#so here this is gn

[katsumiiii]

hobie x gn! reader

hobie is definitely an adamant tease. i also see him as like crazy perceptive ??? not only because he’s a spider person but also because he’s just an observer at heart, so whatever he does to you he knows what effect it has, mentally or physically.

whenever he wants to kiss you he always guides you by your chin. one, because he knows you love the hand placement, and two, because it’s easier to bring your plump lips to his own, and he can’t help but get eager at times.

hobie and you strolled down the chaotic streets of London, his lanky arm strung around the curve of your waist as you attempted to make your way to his apartment (attempted is the key word here, hobie lived about 5 minutes away from the pub y’all were visiting, but the walk was now reaching 10 minutes seeing as hobie couldn’t keep his hands off of you, not that you were in any rush).

“come on love, jus’ one lil kiss and I’ll leave you be, yeah?” hobie gently pleaded, peering down at you through his thickened lashes.

you set the palms of your hands against his chest, appreciating the slight flex of his pecs, and pushed him away from your figure, continuing to trot down the sidewalk, “no bee, we’ve been walking forever and my feet are tired. I’ll give you a kiss when we get home.” you dramatically gestured towards your aching feet, sighing at hobie’s raised eyebrow.

“well we can’t ‘ave that can we?” he inched his fingers down towards your thighs.

“nope, so if we can pick up the—” you squealed, latching on to hobie’s bicep and he held you close to his chest, his fingers curling around the crease underneath your knees, “hobie! what the hell!?”

“wha’? you said you was havin’ trouble, jus’ tryna be a good mate.” hobie tilted his head towards your pursed lips, chuckling at your pouting expression, “‘lowe it, ‘m not puttin’ you down.”

you sighed, peering back at hobie, “you just want to give me a kiss, huh?” you teased, placing a hand towards the crook of hobie’s neck.

“and what of it?” he adjusted you so he could bring the tip of his thumb and pointer finger to your chin, grasping it softly and guiding it towards his own. you indulge him, softly kissing the plush of his lips, humming in satisfaction.

“mhm, feeling cheeky today aren’t we bee?”

“been hangin’ ‘round me too much love, startin’ to sound like me.”

[spiteful-lvsts]

< Imagine... >

>> Being a stay at home spouse for your darling husband. Sure it’s not the life you imagined, but you’re happy nonetheless. Besides, it’s quite nice to see him light up whenever you visit their work for lunch.

Still, it’s hard not to worry when your lover comes home, all exhausted and worried. Even if some of it bleeds away from your soothing touches. This just won’t do at all!

So it’s not a big stretch to say that you two arrange a more... different kind of relaxation together.

Nowadays, when your husband comes home, he doesn’t have to think about work at all. It’s become routine now, cooking his favorites. Soft touches exchanged at the table as you fed him bites of each other’s meals.

It’s all so, wonderfully domestic. Until the curtains are drawn, and you both retire to your shared bedroom. Eager for what was next.

Here, your beloved doesn’t have to think! All he needs to worry about is feeling good, and making you feel good. Babbling out the cutest pleas and whines of; “Mnh- please- harder!” and “Closecloseclose- love ple~ase!” As you rutted into him like a wild animal, fat cock carving him open until he fit you perfectly.

Orgasm after orgasm is wrung out of him, until he’s sobbing. And he’ll take more, even as his legs feel like nothing, even when he feels like he’s going to pass out. Because he’s just your darling pet! Your favorite, dumb slut. Made just to be yours, and you for him.

-

<< { ♡ } >> ayato, pantalone, neuvillette, lucifer, diavolo, jing yuan, welt yang, gepard

[kissatoru]

ughh i wanna put a bratty sub in his place so bad!! :((

i wanna make him think he’s got the upper hand until the last minute, to watch the look on his face when he realises that he’s been playing right into your hand the entire time; that every moment leading up to this was just a carefully calculated step in your plan. i want to see how he struggles to fight back once he does, how hard he tries to prove himself, not realising that if he was really the one in control, he wouldn’t need to prove it, would he? he’d just do it. yet here he is, scrambling for his place back in the driver’s seat that he was never truly in.

your giggles would interrupt him amidst his little speech, cutting off the empty bluffs and dirty promises that he could never even dream of keeping anyway; the way you’d chuckle behind a coy hand like you’ve got some little inside joke with yourself? it would make that fragile ego of his fucking quiver; make him feel confused and embarrassed and he would try to twist the situation back in his favour, of course he would, to try pretend he’s in on the inside joke... but the truth is he feels helpless. for the first time ever, it feels like he’s the one in the dark; he’s the clueless and defenseless one, the one who’s been caught in a trap he never saw coming.

but then again, how could he when you play the part of prey so well? when your innocent performance is so convincing — with your big glossy eyes and shyly averted gazes, your voice so sweet and unsuspecting, stumbling over filthy words like you’ve never even thought them before? what reason would someone like him have to fear a precious thing like you? he’s all chiselled muscle and tenacity, with the eyes of a wolf; you’re small compared to him, cute and soft and easy to overpower — and yet he still ends up beneath you because your presence alone harbours more power than he does in all those muscles he’s so proud of, and his resolve is weak as long as you know where he’s most sensitive and what words make him blush, and with enough patience and punishments, those wolf’s eyes will melt into a puppy’s every time.

and getting a man like him to submit — or better yet break — is no easy feat. he thought himself a dom before he met you and god, if there isn’t anything more rewarding, more wonderful than that; teaching him to bend to your will and seeing his inevitable downfall each and every time. no matter how many times or how far he goes to defy and provoke you, you both know that he will always return to his rightful place: beneath you and completely at your mercy.

EREN JAEGER, TOJI FUSHIGURO, TOUYA TODOROKI, MUZAN KIBUTSUJI, SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

[gazspookiebear]

Ugh I'm so sleepy. Eepy man. Enjoy this shit I cooked up in ten minutes.

You wake up, only to find yourself just as tired as you were a few hours ago. Your eyelids are heavy, and you're fighting back sleep with every blink. Exhaustion wracking your body with every movement.

You feel Simon groan and sit up next to you.

"Mmm... five more minutes?" You mumble sleepily, shivering at the sudden lack of warmth.

"'M sorry love, we've gotta get up"

"Please? I'm so tired..." You whine quietly

"Negative," he says, chuckling at your miserable pout.

"Please, Si?" You say it so sweetly. The nickname you rarely used. His weakness.

A moment passes before you finally hear a response.

"Fine."

You grin, knowing that you've won. He lays back down and wraps his arm around you, pulling your back to his chest. You close your eyes and sleep quickly overtakes you.

Of course, it was never just 'five more minutes'. Simon called your work shortly after and informed them that you wouldn't be coming in today. However that works.

[crawley-fell]

Something's wrong.

[emmyrosee]

“Stop tossing and turning, it’s four in the morning.”

Bakugou was blunt. Though unsurprising to those who knew him, it always would come as a surprise when he’d be so quick when it came to you.

Never in a malicious way; always just sharp.

But tonight, it hurt different. You didn’t snap back, or try to press a threat to sleep on the couch, instead, his bluntness only tacked on to the pounding in your head, using it as ammunition against you, and he didn’t even know it.

“Sorry,” you mumble, bottom lip wobbling.

He groans at the idea that he hurt your feelings, he’s not used to you not snapping back, and turns on his back- he never could sleep on his back, and it warmed your heart to know he was sacrificing a few more hours of much deserved sleep to comfort you.

“Talk,” he demands softly, opening an arm for you to curl into. When you do slip into his side, immediately tears swell your waterline and sting in a command to be released down your scorched, frustrated cheeks.

“I’m just… I’m so exhausted, Katsuki,” you whimper. You’re waiting for him to take it literally, but he doesn’t, and he stays silent in case you wish to keep going. “I put so much effort into everything I do, and it gets shit on; i get walked all over every. Damn. Day. I don’t want to try anymore, I don’t care to. Not like anything matters anyway, so why would I bother?”

Once again, he’s silent in case you want to continue. Hell, you’re almost convinced he’s fallen asleep until he lets out a soft sigh.

“You’re doing fine,” he mumbles, his calloused fingertips gently rubbing the tense muscles at the nape of your neck. “You’re doing your best, and even if you don’t see it, you take full pride in the things you do. Because that’s who you are, it’s one of the things that made me fall in love with you. You give, and give, and you don’t ask for anything in return, then you get in a headspace like this and wonder if it’s worth it.

“But baby,” he yawns, “it is worth it. Especially to you. And you’re not going to stop putting your all in the things you do, you know that. But there’s nothing wrong with wanting recognition. You deserve it.”

Tears swell in your waterline and you quickly bury your face into his side, tears soaking his shirt. “I’m always proud of you. You’re selfless, and as much as I adore that part of you, I wish you weren’t. Because it keeps both of us up at four in the morning and makes my shirt wet with tears.”

With a choked laugh, you shove him softly as he gives you a chuckle, but his words only have you crying more; he’s a man of few words but behind the blunt ones, the loving ones he picks are genuine, and you wouldn’t trade him, or the reassurances he gives you, for the world.

“I want to be better, Katsuki,” you wail. “I don’t want to be so tired anymore.”

“You’re already the best that you can be,” he assures, kissing you’re head.

“And that’s plenty. I promise you.”

[lovesickeros]

☆ glimpse of divinity

{☆} characters lyney, neuvillette [ separate ] {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.8k

× neuvillette

The first time he sees you strolling the streets of Fontaine with a glint of wonder in your eyes, he thinks he must have finally lost it. He has to rub his eyes and check a few dozen times before he's certain that you are, in fact, real and not some figment of his imagination conjured by a lack of sleep and overdose on caffeine.

..Though now that he gets a better look, it's not quite the same. Like a smudged painting, he thinks. Still, the uncanny resemblance to the visage of the Divine One has him lingering around the area just to stare a little longer, a deep, devoted sense of affection bristling beneath his skin.

And then you turn sharply on your heel, staring directly back at him, and he feels a sudden wave of embarrassment and something akin to shame.

Archons, he'd just made a fool of himself, hadn't he?

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat and hiding his embarrassment behind his hand. Though it does not seem to deter you, the soft tap of your shoes growing closer until you were peering up at him with wide eyes.

"..Hello." He offers awkwardly, a little too stiff and a little too formal, but you don't seem to mind in the slightest. He knows that your appearance, your vague similarities to the Divine One are mere coincidence, but it does not stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile up at him. "I– apologize for being so uncouth and staring, it's just.."

His voice trails off into a breathy exhale, his hand twitching on his cane as if he wanted to reach out and touch you..but he restrains himself in time. He could not make a bigger fool of himself – he would never hear the end of it from lady Furina.

"You remind me of someone."

He decides, readjusting his hands on his cane as he bows his head for a moment is a show of genuineness, though it must look awkward with how stiff his body feels.

Yet he cannot help but want to get closer anyway, to hear the silky lilt of your voice grace his pointed ears. This is as close as he will ever get to the Divine..he is a weak man, he finds, as he offers a hand to you.

"I understand if this is a bit..forward, but would you mind joining me for tea?"

× lyney

He is a master magician – his entire work is built on keen misdirection and sleight of hand, but even he stumbles for a minute thinking he'd seen an illusion in your warm smile and striking features. Almost an exact copy of the Divine One, yet not quite..

Still, it's enough to pique his interest – enough, too, to give him the confidence to slip into your conversation with ease, all smiles and the slip of a card between his fingers.

"Hello, stranger – I don't think I've seen you in Fontaine before," He laughs, his hand reaching around to rest gently on your opposite shoulder, his voice a ghost of a whisper in your ear. "Say, could I interest you in a bit of magic?"

He perks up at the way you seem to light up like fireworks at his offer, a spark almost like recognition in your eyes he brushes aside – he's quite well known, after all.

"Good! Now, if I may just borrow your attention for a minute.." He grins, stepping around you and turning sharply to face you, his hand outstretched with a deck of cards in his hands, face down. "Let's start simple, shall we? I shan't overwhelm my audience – pick a card."

He holds the cards out again, his features twisted in something like awe, though he hides it well.

His heart flutters at the briefest of glances of your hand against his as you pluck a card from his hand, and he quickly retracts it, reshuffling the deck with a broad grin and a wink.

"Do your best to remember it! If you could return it to the deck.." The card is placed back in it's place amongst the rest, and the magic begins!

"Now then, let's see..hm," He hums for a long moment, the silence filled by the constant shuffle of cards until he suddenly plucks one from the deck, flipping it around for you to see. "Is this your card?"

He frowns when you shake your head, almost pouting, before he lights up again and steps forward.

"Ah! How foolish of me, I missed it..it's riiight here, see." He winks, reaching behind your ear..and pulls free a card from seemingly thin air. He flips it around for you to see again, and when you tell him it is, in fact, your card, he flips it around again.

And before you can see it, he's holding a rainbow rose between his fingers, his hand outstretched as he bows.

His eyes glint with a sort of wonder as he looks at your features, his smile widening a fraction.

"Well, dear stranger? Did you enjoy the show?"

[icaruien]

"satoru."

your voice was a low timbre, a steady thing, and satoru felt like crying right then and there. he didn't, of course. he couldn't. he was still the strongest, even when he was with you. you didn't need a broken man craving validation and attention, you needed a good toy to fuck and break for the night and leave in the morning. that was okay. he could be that for you. he could be anything for you.

satoru looked at you past half-lidded eyes, a cheeky grin on his lips. "mm, right here," he said. "you're so boring, you're making me zone out."

you rolled your eyes, but it was clear that you didn't buy it. a knot formed between your brows, the beginnings of a question coiling on the tip of your lips, but you said nothing. he didn't expect you to. the both of you didn't come to each other to talk, after all. you were there to fuck and get fucked.

(still, satoru thought selfishly. it would have been nice if you asked.)

he arched his back when your hand wrapped around him, callouses built from years worth of wielding weapons digging into the tender skin of his cock. he whimpered. you smiled.

"still boring?"

satoru's grin didn't falter, even when he could feel the light in his eyes dim a little bit. "dunno. why don't you convince me a little mo— oh, fuck. yeah, just like that."

you didn't talk, and you didn't tell him sweet things, but the way you twisted your wrist and kissed his mouth told him enough. neither of you were very good at talking, but that didn't stop you from knowing precisely what he needed anyway.

you weren't kind to him when you dragged out his orgasms, cutting them off right as he's about to topple off the edge, forcing him to cum over and over again when his lungs were on fire and his legs were shaking on either side of you. but your unkindness was the only act of kindness he would allow himself to have.

you were the only person he would allow himself to have.

and this wasn't love, this wasn't a date, this wasn't anything at all. he was a fool for thinking that this could be more, an idiot for imagining a night when you would finally stay, a moron for hoping that one day you would look at him the same way—

"tell me." his voice was broken, ragged and ruined by his own heavy breaths. you looked at him, eyes wide and curious, hands sweeping his bangs back. "tell me i'm yours."

"you're mine," you answered easily. you had stopped hesitating a long time ago, and satoru was so selfishly grateful for it. good, it meant he could pretend a little longer.

"i'm your satoru," he said, an insistence, an offering.

you smiled. it wasn't an acceptance.

"that's right, my satoru."

but it wasn't rejection either.

—so maybe, being a fool wasn't such a bad thing if he could have this makeshift home with you just for a little while longer.

[periipheral]

alvvays on repeat

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

hi dove!!! i love your new event, the vibe is so fun and relaxing (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ could i request floyd with no.8? for backups maybe leona with no.9 or jamil with no.2? thanks!! as always don't overwork yourself ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

side note: pls no angst the pain from last time is still here(⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

Fairytale Scene; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, some really soft Leona

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; Had to use your first backup, as Floyd got snatched up, but I hope you enjoy this fluffy scene and soft lion! [Damn, those eels go fast]

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

An old vinyl was playing slowly on the record player, a slow jazz ensemble letting out low notes. It was pleasant, the calm music mixing with the gentle crashing of the waves coming onto shore, and the filtered sunlight coming through the linen curtains and warming up your skin. There was no rushing, no tasks that needed to be urgently done, and no one to boss you around. You could definitely get used to this. 

“You’re looking right at home there,” a soft chuckle broke you from your relaxed spell. Leona was standing in front of you, giving you a curious look. “Like a house cat sunbathing.”

You rolled your eyes, “Fitting coming from you.” You stretched out, and rolled off of the chaise you were lounging on. 

Leona sighed in mock annoyance, but he could get used to seeing you without the weight of all your responsibilities resting on your shoulders. You looked — and by all the lounging you had been doing since you had both arrived — and felt lighter as well. And in the golden sunlight? Leona swore that you were glowing.

You lazily walked over to him, placing your arms around his neck. “Is something bothering you?”

Bothering me? “No, nothing at the moment,” he said quietly. What was there to be bothered by? The two of you were together, and there was no one around to annoy the both of you. “And you?”

You hummed along to the song playing, “Nope!~” You let out a breathy chuckle and started to gently sway back and forth to the music. “Would you care to join me for this dance… your majesty?~” 

Leona groaned at the nickname; you only brought it out when you were feeling teasing. He didn’t mind though, since it didn’t hold the weight it did at the palace, or the mocking tone that others sometimes used. You just were being a teasing menace and a cute one at that.

Letting out a showy sigh he adjusted your hands so that he was holding one and the other was placed on his waist. “I suppose I can spare one for you,” he said lowly, voice barely above a grumble. 

The two of you swayed gently together to the soft music, gentle swaying, and long, slow, looping circles around the room. You were still humming the non-existent lyrics to the song, and Leona hummed softly from time to time as well, adding to the melody. Never did he think that he would end up in such a scene; dancing with someone he loved so dearly in something that he could only explain as a fairytale scene. It was soft, domestic, tender, and filled with such innocent love. All things that Leona had convinced himself that he didn’t want. But then you came into his life. You threw a wrench into his life, but what a lovely wrench it turned out to be.

The song came to an end far too soon, and the two of you came to a slow standstill, still in each other’s loose embrace. Neither of you made a move to let go, instead you both just stood there, hand in hand, your hand on his waist, and his on yours.

“You make for a good dance partner,” you chuckle.

Leona raised a brow, “And are you surprised by that?”

You bring his hand to your lips, placing a kiss on the inside of his wrist while looking at him through your lashes. “No, it’s just endearing is all.”

Leona had received kisses from you before, both soft and passionate, but this one actually made his heart flutter. He didn’t know how to feel about it, but he did know that the way you looked at him just then… he wanted you to look at him with such adoration again and again and again. It was addictive.

He brought your hand to his lips, and returned the kiss, letting it linger so he could feel your steady pulse. Perhaps the two of you should come out here more often if this was what happened… Leona could spend the rest of his life with you in this picturesque moment.

~~~~~~~

Tags: @eynnwwyjth, @inkybloom-luv, @leonistic, @savanaclaw1996, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

[libraryraccoon]

I was wondering how a Dazai!Reader from BSD (preferably 15 year old Dazai) would interact with the HH crew

Btw, I love your stuff sm, have a lovely day if you see this!

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Info : I haven't watched BSD for a long time, so it's probably wrong/inaccurate, sorry. Reader have 15 years old.

Message fom Raccoon : What ? Dad!Lucifer ? Dad!Alastor ? Okay, take that Dad!Husk !

TW : Suicide (mentionned); SH (mentionned)

General Headcanon

Finally.

After all this years of trying, after all this attempts, you were finally dead !

And what do we do when we have achieved such a feat ? We drink until the morning !

As you drank, you recounted your feat of finally dying to the bartender, some sort of cat-bird demon.

He gave you a judgmental look when you told him you were 15 and died of suicide.

But you were used to it, people often judge you while you were alive and was trying every second to die.

After a few hours, you were drunk and followed the bartender back to his place, a small apartment in a quiet corner of Hell.

You shouldn't follow someone to their home, you know that, but for your defense, you were drunk and he was a cat. And you have a weakness for cats.

Two things making it impossible to refuse his invitation.

And, if anything ever went wrong, you always had your gun with you, which had appeared at the same time as you in Hell.

The bartender's name was Husk and he kind of adopted you ? You weren't even sure if one sinner could adopt another sinner.

Life was calm with Husk, and you somehow helped him with his work.

By that I mean you were stopping the powers of other demons with your power, so you used it to kick out all the assholes who attacked him from the bar.

You and Husk had this dynamic of "Father who will kill for his child & Child who will sacrifice themselves for their father."

And then, one day you had to move to the Hazbin Hotel because Husk find a work there.

Alastor was surprised to see that Husk now had a kid–he didn't think it was possible for an alcoholic like him to have a child.

And he learned that Husk had cut down on his drinking, so he could be a better father.

*very kindly and not at all suspiciously notes this fact in the back of his mind.*

The hotel was quite shocked to know that you were a child from a fucking mafia and that you had died of suicide at 15 years old. If Husk hadn't informed them about that, they never would have suspected it.

Your humor worries them more than anything else.

Charlie is worry every time you make jokes about suicide while your dad rolls his eyes at it.

Husk was used to your jokes after a few months of living together.

The hotel wasn't.

Charlie is like your older sister, optimistic and a little naive at times.

She always tries to make you see the bright side of things and to make you forget this idea of double death.

Spoiler : it doesn't work.

Lucifer sees you like one of his children.

He spoils you like he spoiled Charlie when she was just a child.

Husk often makes side eyes at him, accusing him of trying to steal his child.

And that was true.

Lucifer, Charlie, Husk and Angel Dust are the ones who are the most concerned about your mental health.

Alastor wanted to make you sign a contract "I become powerful and Alastor releases my father from his contract in exchange of stopping trying to kill myself."

You didn't sign it.

Alastor tried to use you to spy on Vox and the Vees because he was bored and wanted some entertainment.

It worked.

Alastor do radio shows with you sometimes, you two are called "The RadioDuo".

His audience LOVES you.

You gained Alastor some listeners btw.

You help Niffty with her work at the Hotel.

Even if Charlie said you didn't have to do it, you do it anyway.

Vaggie take all your guns because you apparently “didn’t need” them.

You managed to recover them with a little manipulation.

Angel Dust could see himself in you.

You reminded him of his little human self, Anthony, broken by the world and wanting to end it. A family running the Mafia and forcing him to join it.

You're a bit like him, but compared to him, who fought to survive, had a reason to survive, you had nothing, no reason to fight, and you gave up.

When Angel Dust isn't working, he usually stays with you and Husk.

He doesn't want to abandon you, leave you alone in such a rotten world. He wants you to be protected and to be the child you never could be.

He will never let anyone touch you, never.

Husk and Angel Dust are usually the ones who bandage you after SH, Angel Dust doesn't say anything as he does it, because he understands. Husk doesn't speak as well, but you can see that by doing so he's blaming himself, making you instantly regret it.

Don't try to kill yourself in front of them, please. They're already worried enough, don't add more.

Hotel Hazbin was, in a way, your family.

And you would kill everyone in this room before killing yourself before anything happened to them.

[selineram3421]

*is sleepy but wants fluff* Fuck it.

Soft Kisses

Alastor X Chubby Reader

Warnings? ⚠

⚠ small one shot, cuddles, kisses, fluff ⚠

Today was tiring.

Swamped with work like preparing for tomorrow's art activities, cleaning up the studio, putting away art tools, and having to help make dinner after.

Alastor had noticed and tried to get you to rest but you didn't want to leave all the work to him.

You almost fell asleep while cooking!

Good thing that you were able to catch yourself and finish up what you were making.

Then when everything was done, and Niffty taking care of the dishes. Alastor swept you up, carrying you over to your hotel room.

"Alastor! Put me down, I'm too heavy!", you panicked.

"Nonsense love! You're not heavy at all. Though you do need rest!", he smiled and pecked you on the cheek.

Once inside your room, he placed you down on the bed and laid you on your back.

"Now, don't lift a finger dear.", he said and started to take off your right shoe.

"Honey, really. I can get myself settled in.", you sighed and reached to take off your other shoe, but your hand was quickly snatched up and kissed.

You blushed.

"I told you not to lift a finger.", the deer demon grinned handsomely and kissed the inside of your wrist.

Then he helped you change into something comfortable before getting you under the covers. In seconds you felt yourself start to get sleepier.

"Take a nap darling. You've been up and down all day.", Alastor whispers before kissing your forehead.

As he turns to leave, you take hold of his hand. Looking back, he can see you're fighting sleep just to keep him there.

"Stay? I want to be next to you.", you ask.

"Of course love.", he says, taking off his coat and shoes before going under the covers to join you.

You sigh in content once you wrap your arms around each other, nuzzling your head against his chest as you get comfortable. He hums and rubs your back, kissing the top of your head as you do so.

Feeling a familiar claw finger lift your head up by your chin, you feel a soft kiss. You kiss back, but it's small repeated ones.

"Sleep well."

Is the last thing you hear before you let sleep take you.

*slow, slow blink* I'm tired and want cuddles. But I don't have my body pillow, so this is the best I'm going to get.

~Seline, the person.

Taglist@

@c4rved-pumpk1n @scary-noodlesblog @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @lbcreations-blog @ducky-died-inside @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @line-viper @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @willowshadenox @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙️

[abyssruler]

alhaitham x reader

cyno has been watching alhaitham closely ever since he arrived in port ormos. the guy is tricky, sneaking through alleyways and other parts to evade his sharp eyes because he knows cyno is keeping a close eye on him. most days, he doesn’t find anything suspicious, or at least, anything suspicious with actual evidence to back it up. after a month of being clear, he decides to ease up a little, just to lessen his load and because he doesn’t want to give alhaitam the privilege of having his whole attention. he might just go mad like kaveh.

and then one innocuous, sunny day, cyno spots alhaitham leaving a store and carrying something in his arms while not so discreetly trying to pass it off as inconspicuous. unfortunately for him, cyno will mark even a single sneeze from him as suspicious and possibly another plot to a greater scheme. so he follows him as quietly as he can, remaining unseen by staying in the shadows and lurking beneath large roots. it comes as a surprise when he finds that alhaitham isn’t deliberately ignoring his attempt to follow him, he’s utterly oblivious to it.

what could possibly be on his mind for him to lose track of his surroundings?

the answer comes in the form of a merchant from liyue standing beneath a stall of wares that look far too enthralling for any passerby to not take notice.

cyno hides behind a large tree as he watches alhaitham come up to you. he thought he was only there to take stock of your wares, but his suspicion turns into befuddlement when alhaitham stops next to you, and you, in turn, stop in the middle of talking to a customer to move your gaze to the man next to you and—

he has to take a while to process the sight of you opening your arms up with a teasing grin. and alhaitham putting aside the suspicious object he has in his arms to—cyno could almost feel his eyes pop out of their sockets—step into your hug.

the object he deemed suspicious earlier is picked up by your deft hands. the paper wrapped around it is ripped away, leaving a small array of flowers in a pot—and cyno really should have checked what store alhaitham went out of instead of immediately tailing him. you say something to him with a grin as you hold the pot between your hands. the man himself remains as stone-faced as ever, but there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that cyno squints just to catch sight of.

and then he sees you lean up on your toes (because alhaitham is ridiculously, annoyingly tall. it’s the only trait he has in spades against cyno) and place a chaste kiss to alhaitham’s cheek.

oh.

oh.

he thinks his brain just about stops working.

alhaitham reaches up to cradle your face with one hand—aaaand that’s cyno’s cue to leave. immediately.

he starts walking away, steps hurried like a pack of tigers are at his back. as he ruminates on the interaction he just saw, the only thing he can think of is how insane you must be to willingly put up with alhaitham.

[ghost-ruin-zone]

i had a vision

[chrisbangs]

231111

[teddybeartoji]

彡 A MASSIVE PILE OF GUILT

☆. contains: tooru oikawa x gn!reader; this is called angst i think (with comfort), reader plays volleyball and oikawa comforts them after they lost a match, reader talks badly about themselves:( i'm sorry, they swear they're just really really good friends but they're also just fucking stupid wc: 4k

in the blink of an eye the loud screams and cheers transform into a disgusting mix of muffled noises in your ears. the lights are too bright and you feel like you're stuck to the ground; stuck under hundreds pairs of eyes. you can't move, you can't breathe. your arm stings, a painfully clear reminder of your fuckup.

you should've had it, you saw it coming, you had a plan and yet - here you are, watching the colorfol ball hit the wall of the big arena with a quiet thud!. your eye twitches, locked onto the missed oppurtunity in a form a sphere sit metres away from you and your teammates.

because of you.

like a statue; turned into stone, you stand in your awkward position, unable to comprehend that it's over. that it's really over. it feels like everybody is looking at you, cursing you in their own heads. is this what drowning feels like? even if you could open your mouth to try and save yourself with a big breath of air, the stifling stench of losing would surely just make you choke harder.

a palm slaps onto your shoulder and you don't have to look at the person to know who it is – a dejected captain trying to pick up their loved teammates. you can't look at them; how could you? they're trying to cheer you up while you're the sole reason you lost in the first place. they give you a squeeze, a silent plea for you to snap out of it and you comply, not wanting to humiliate them any more.

you did well!

an arm around your shoulder, you're being dragged away from the court and you taste blood – the result of biting into the soft skin of your inner cheek in order to surpress a cry. the lights are too bright and you just want out.

after the handshakes and the formalities are done, your coach gives you all a pep talk. not that it helps but what else is there to say right now. you eat in almost complete silence; the only sounds in your ears being the chewing and the crying.

you've yet to do that. your lip wobbles and your eyes are red but so far, no tears. but you know you will – it'll be the only thing you'll be doing after you've locked yourself away into your room.

good game!

you feel sick. the food in your mouth is starting to taste like vomit and the water isn't helping either. still, you refuse to stop. refuse to raise your eyes from your table to ask whether you can leave. you will sit there as long as the others do and you won't complain. you will eat the food just like the others do and you won't complain. you don't get to do that.

the hugs feel just as suffocating as the eyes. you've never felt this bad in your whole entire life. you feel bad for thinking that the hugs feel suffocating – they're literally trying to comfort you and you're blatantly refusing it. stupid. stupid. stupid.

everyone has their own things they do after a loss. some like to be alone, some like to go for a run, some like to beat the fuck out of a punch bag and some like to do watch a comedy film with their teammates. it's silly; none of them laugh during it anyway. but it helps. you know it does because you've done it with them – not this time though. and they don't pressure you; they're not stupid, they understand how it feels. you need a moment and they will give it to you.

your captain does sit you down for a second before letting you go though, calmly telling you how it wasn't your fault and how you'll get it next time. and it sucks. it sucks that you don't hear it... it sucks that nothing will make this feeling go away. you know it and your captain knows it.

their warm hand resting on your back does soothe the shivers that have been tormenting you ever since you lost the ball. and for the first time since that moment, you crane your neck, raising your heavy head to meet their eyes and now you do feel like crying. the sadness is there, but so is the same warmth, the same adoration one has for their loved ones. nobody is upset with you, nobody blames you. their hand rises from your back and goes up to ruffle your hair as you let your head fall against their chest. "you're okay."

they hold you close as your tears soak their shirt. you hear a loud sigh and you know they're holding back theirs. the shivers are back and you hiccup out a broken i'm sorry, which makes the captain pull away immediately and grab your shoulders.

"don't. it wasn't your fault. it wasn't. you can cry as much as you want but that? you're not allowed to do that." there's a certain determination in their glassy eyes and you have no other choice but to weakly nod your head before letting it fall again.

"by the way, i saw you not eat properly, so i'm keeping an extra eye on you tomorrow morning, okay?" they poke your cheek and you're thankful. "i'm gonna watch the movie with the others but i'm keeping my phone close by, so if you want company at any time, just let me know."

you raise your head back up, desperate to show your appreciation for them and nod again, cracking the world's smallest and saddest smile and they ruffle your hair again before standing up. "you're okay."

they close the door behind them and you take a minute to compose yourself. you can't seem to stop your hands from shaking though and it makes you angry. your now empty room is too quiet and your own reflection in the window is taunting you with an ugly expression. is that really how you look like right now?

you don't wanna know and you don't want to keep looking at it either. so you grab your hoodie and your wallet and make your way to the lobby of the hotel. maybe the reflection in the vending machine won't be so mean.

and it isn't. it's not mean at all. it's the exact opposite actually. from the fact that it's staring at you with rather soft eyes to the fact that it's not your own reflection.

"good game, right?" you scare yourself with your own voice – already so harsh and raspy. it comes out mean and you wince. you tear your eyes from his, focusing on the sweet drink that's locked behind the glass instead.

oikawa is never this quiet and it makes you want to hit him. make a joke. just do it. just do it already. but he doesn't. his steps are quiet as he goes to lean on the vending machine. he's nothing if not observant; he sees your shaky hands pressing the buttons with so much effort; how the lips that are usually pulled into a beautiful grin he loves so much are now wobbling, ready to spill all of your sorrows. your clenched jaw as you try to avoid his gaze for whatever reason.

please, look at me.

the vending machine dings as the mechanics push your drink to you. his eyes are unforgiving and you know he means well. you know he's not gonna make fun of you, he's not gonna tease you – not now. but you still feel ashamed, whether he says the joke or not; the joke has already been made and it's right here, standing in front of a stupid pink vending machine.

your head shakes on it's own, casting shame on yourself on it's own. the drink falls with a loud thud! but before you can kneel down to get it, a hand on your wrist stops you.

his hand is so warm and it's unusual, considering he tends to be cold almost always. he doesn't push you and let's you take a deep breath before you raise your eyes to his.

if his heart wasn't shattered before, it sure is now. your eyes are red and glassy, but mostly tired, so tired. there's no glint in them, dull and sad. his hand slips from your wrist to your palm, intertwining his fingers with yours. "you did well."

your head falls back as you choke out a broken laugh. "oh, fuck off. i don't wanna fucking hear that. it makes me sick." staring at the ceiling, you shake your head again as if to rid of the words from your mind.

oikawa feels useless. he's been in your situation and yet, he can't think of anything good to say. he remembers how much he hated whenever people said that to him after their loss to karosuno. he tries to swallow the lump in his throat; everything he comes up with just makes him feel even more sick. he wants to cry because he doesn't know how to comfort you. how to make it all better.

"do you want me to stay with you?"

that's the best he can come up with. maybe just his presence will be enough when his words clearly aren't. but when you shake your head again, his heart sinks.

"that's alright. let's uh– ... tomorrow, yeah?" bringing your eyes down from the ceiling, you try to give him a reassuring smile that says i'm fine but it obviously doesn't work. you see the hurt in his eyes and you just feel bad. you feel bad for everything. you're upsetting people even off the court. you just can't help it can you?

"i'm good. i just need to be alone right now." you try again, squeezing his hand. his mouth opens but another voice cuts him off.

"oikawa!"

from around the corners emerges an angry looking iwaizumi. "here you fucking are. coach said it's bed time—"

when his eyes travel from his troublesome best friend over to yours, he swallows his words in an instant. you see the remorse wash over his face and you kind of want to laugh. it's all too funny in a fucked up way. "sorry for interrupting. hey, that was a really goo—"

good game!

he stops himself. fuck. what do you say in this situation?

"good game, i know. maybe next time it'll be a great one, hm?" the bitterness just oozes out of you without your consent, making iwaizumi wince. you feel bad.

pulling your hand from oikawa's, you kneel down to finally grab your nearly forgotten drink. "it's okay, really. i know what you mean."

another weak smile. a pathetic one. "see you at breakfast, yeah?"

oikawa shoving iwaizumi is the last thing you see as you're making your way back to your room. your hands still haven't stopped shaking and opening the door is so fucking hard. the key card slips from between your fingers—

breathe... in...

and out...

you kneel down and pick it up in slow motion as you're tunnel visioning on just getting inside the room. you hear the click! and you burst in, slamming the door shut. the ugly reflection is back and it's laughing at you and you can't do it anymore. your knees buckle from under you, hitting the soft carpeted floor as you weep. hunched over, you just look like a big pile of guilt.

clutching at your heart through your shirt, you cry and you cry, taking in raggedy breaths just to let out pathetic little sounds. everything hurts – your knees, your arms, your head, your eyes, your fingers, your legs, your inner cheek. you pretty much crawl to the bathroom, grabbing a handful of tissues before plopping right back down onto the floor. your nose hurts, too.

for almost an hour – you don't move from your spot, rooted and rotting into the carpet. it's pathetic. you think about how the others are watching the movie, shedding tears quietly but together, nonetheless. sick of your own actions, you push yourself up and change your clothes. you even manage to drink some water and wash your face in this half-alive state of being. a+ for effort, huh?

you bury yourself under the blanket, wishing the bed would swallow you whole instead. the tears have returned and you feel the pillow getting wetter and wetter by the second. you don't have it in you to grab another tissue though, letting the feeling of the soaked material remind you of your fuckup.

a floor and a few rooms away, oikawa can't stop pacing around. "but they said they didn't want me to go with them...."

"have you ever considered that people lie, idiot?" a tired iwaizumi replies from underneath his blanket on the bed. "especially in a situation like this. it's not like you were any better, you know."

oikawa just glares at him, although it's very hard for iwaizumi to take him seriously when he's wearing his matching plaid pj set. "but what if they get upset that i didn't listen to them?"

"but don't you wanna go and comfort them?" iwaizumi questions harshly. "don't you wanna be there for them? is your fear of overstepping more important than their well-being right now?"

oikawa thinks of your tired, sad eyes and his fingers twitch. "no."

"obviously, dick. go on, then. you have to be back for breakfast though or i'll punch you." iwaizumi states before turning away from his friend and disappearing completely under the blanket.

"you're so mean, iwa... can you not threathen to punch me every two seconds? i'm trying to be so good." oikawa mutters with a pout, grabbing his phone and his hoodie, ready to be your knight in shining armor. knight in plaid pyjamas more like.

"just go already." his friend grumbles and oikawa gifts him a small bye-bye as he's already halfway out the door. the next thing he knows, he's sprinting through the hallways, thanking himself in his head for making you tell him your room number the second he saw you this morning. he doesn't even take the elevator, instead taking triple steps up the stairs. he's also thanking himself for becoming an athlete.

knock! knock! knock!

dismissing that as just a noise from the room next door, you continue your sniffling but when the knocks repeat in a faster manner, you figure one of your teammates had forgotten their key card. so, ever so slowly you push yourself from the comfort of your bed and head over to the door while trying to wipe the tears from your eyes as to look at least a little bit more composed. you're even ready to crack a joke about them losing the card, desperate to disctract the person behind the door from yourself.

but it's not any of your teammates, nor is it your manager of your coach.

it's your oikawa instead – eyes wide open and slightly panting. "you said you don't want me here but i– fuck, how many steps can be between one floor..." he clutches his hand over his chest, the stupid comment slipping out all on its own.

for a millisecond, for a fraction of time, the corners of your lips turn upward but they fall just as fast back down, leaving you both just standing there, staring at each other.

your eyes look way worse now; way more red, way more tired, way more sad, way more dull than a mere hour ago. he should've come here sooner and he imagines iwaizumi slapping the back of his head for his mistake.

"you said you wanna be alone but i don't care."

his blunt statement catches you a little off-guard, your eyebrows furrowing but oikawa just takes it as a green light. if you didn't want him there, surely you'd tell him that right away but you've been standing here with him for a almost half a minute and nothing.

he takes a step, closing the distance between the two of you. he pushes his glasses up on his nose and fiddles with his own fingers and it's weird again. he's nervous. but this isn't about him – it's about you. whatever he's feeling right now is nothing compared to what you're feeling and he just wants to be here for you.

for a second time today, he watches your bottom lip wobble and your chest rise as you take short sharp breaths. and for a second time today, a pair of eyes feel actually comforting. he's not trying to burn you, he's not trying to take back time and alter your actions. he's merely observing instead of dissecting. he's ready to catch you when you fall.

and you do. it's hard not to when he's standing in front of you and looking at you so fondly. your head falls against his strong chest, hands tucked between your bodies as his firmly wrap around you. he takes another step inside and closes the door behind him with his foot.

he listens to you cry into him, he feels your tears on his shirt and through it, on his skin. your hands grasp onto the material, bunching it up in your fists and he just holds you tighter against him.

"you're gonna win next time, i promise" he murmurs.

but when you just sob out a but i wanted to win this time, his heart aches so bad he thinks he's going to die.

oikawa curses at himself for walking right into that one and this time he swears he feels iwaizumi slap the back of his head for real. but he has no time to pity his poor choice of words when he feels your hands clutching at him just where his heart is.

he whispers a quiet i know and you sniffle again. he starts drawing soothing circles onto your back with his palm and he feels so warm. releasing his shirt from your hold, you snake your hands around his body instead, burrowing your face even more into his chest and you faintly hear him coo. it's the first time ever that he's done it in a genuine way and it's the first time you haven't felt the need to punch him for it.

his hand rests on the back of your head, keeping you in your place as he gently sways the both of you from side to side. "i got you."

after some time, he feels you going slack against him and decides to guide you to the bed. he climbs in with you and safely tucks you into the crook of his neck and lets you cry some more as he whispers it's okay against your temple. he just hopes that he's actually helping, that his words actually have an effect. god, he hopes he's making it at least a bit better for you.

he is. he's doing more than he could ever imagine. the thick goo of guilt and shame seems to be draining out of you when you feel his lips brush against your skin. he just might be washing the it off of you with his quiet praise. his words don't sound condescending nor do they sound fake. he means it when he says that you really did do well.

the tears have dried by now and oikawa can feel your eyelashes fluttering against his neck. the long tiring day is finally catching up to you as your breathing slows. he rests his head on top of yours and presses your body indifinitely closer to his. the tips of his fingers dance across your skin, drawing little circles and hearts as he soaks in the sight of you relaxing against him under the moonlight.

"did..."

your meek voice makes him crane his neck back so he can look at you better, ready to hear out whatever complaint you have, ready to comply to whatever request you have.

"did iwaizumi send you?"

...

"WHAT?" it comes out way louder and in a way higher pitch than he'd intended it to. he immediately clears his throat but his eyebrows are still furrowed. "i wanted to come here, why would you say that..."

he still can't see your face clearly from this angle but the way your body moves, is telling him that this isn't you crying anymore. this is you laughing.

"are you– are you fucking laughing at me right now?" he questions, trying to pry you from his neck to confirm his suspicion. and he's fucking right. when you finally unlatch yourself from his body and roll onto your back, you have the tiniest, smallest smile on your lips and oikawa's mouth falls slack. "i wanted to come! i– i'm a good friend!"

it shouldn't be this funny. it really shouldn't because he is a good friend, isn't he? he's here now, holding you, comforting you; he came to you and you're now making fun of him. but you can't help it, the thought of iwaizumi "lecturing" him is silly in this moment. not that you doubt that he came here only because of that, of course. but knowing him, you just think he probably needed a push to actually do it.

oikawa holds himself up above you, observing the small freckles that adorn your face. your eyes are still red and still tired but... the small little glint is back. the same one that's always there when you make fun of him. or when you laugh.

"i literally ran here and this is how you treat me?"

"you're telling me it took you an hour to run up the stairs? i thought you were a volleyball player, shouldn't your stamina be better–" you poke at his chest (right where his heart is) and he lets out a very loud and a very dramatic gasp. "or did your boyfriend have to convince you to come over and console me?"

oikawa's lips tilt into a smirk, happy to hear you barking at him at last. "first of all, don't ever call him my boyfriend ever again–" he situates himself next to you, so his both hands are free. you should've seen this coming, too. "and second of all, you really oughta treat me better."

before you can taunt him with a good old "or what?", his hands are tickling your sides, fingers dancing along your skin as laughter bubbles up from your throat. you try to fight him off, hands clutching onto his in order to stop his torment but to no avail.

"i am... trying... to be.... a good... friend... and this is... what i get... huh..." he rasps as he continues soaking in the sound of your laughter.

"you're.... always... in it for something... that's not... a... real friend... tooru..." you breathe back with a grin and he stops. he doesn't take his hands off of you though, just resting them on your waist.

"you're spending way too much time with iwaizumi, you're both just so mean to me." he's pouting. oikawa is sitting back on his legs and he's actually pouting.

"am i gonna have to console you now?"

"yes." he deadpans.

...

you push yourself up onto your elbow and lean up to boop his nose. "you're stupid."

"no, you're stupid." he grins back.

he has his ways of getting you out of a slump, he always has. him sitting here on your tiny little bed, pouting and laughing is only merely of them. you couldn't wish for a better friend. his hands feel so warm on you and you're so grateful. sitting up, you slap your hands on his shoulders (which of course, makes him wince in a very over the top way). "thanks for coming, tooru."

he rolls his eyes. "pffft."

...

pfft?

"excuse me?" you glare at him and he decides that you and iwaizumi can never hang out ever again.

"i– i meant– yeah, of course. anything for you." he stutters out as you keep glaring at him. he then leans in closer, so much so that your noses are almost touching. "i'm really proud of you, you know."

heat crawls up from your neck and you feel the tips of your ears warm up, overwhelmed by the sudden genuine praise. but you can't let him have the upper hand. not now, not ever. he'll never let you live it down.

"your breath stinks, you know."

his eyes close with another incredibly dramatic sigh as he rests his forehead against yours but while doing so, he takes notice of your hot skin and the way you giggle, and translates it into your language –

thank you.