#whatever i know you’re all tired of me so ill just go make a cup of tea and cry that’s a plannnnnn

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Self-Indulgent HCs

pairing(s): Frank Castle x fem!Reader, Matt Murdock x fem!Reader, Michael Kinsella x fem!Reader

summary: How each of the boys would care for you when you were sick, headcanons bc i am tired

warnings: non-graphic, general descriptions of sickness (just cold/fever, not covid)

a/n: this month was already rough on my allergies but i came down with quite possibly the worst cold I’ve ever had. (It’s literally so bad i had to use PTO instead of WFH days? I am literally dying.) I wrote this when I was feverish and couldn’t sleep to make myself feel better. I hope someone out there likes it 😭

Frank

I think Frank would worry a lot when his partner was sick.

He’s lost so many people and he doesn’t have a huge circle so i think it takes him by surprise a little.

But he’d do his best to hide his worries by going about his day and comforting you.

He’d get fresh produce from the store and make you delicious soup, pick up tissues and medicine for you, threaten anyone who tried to make you go into work

“Your boss still pullin’ that shit? Gimme the phone, let me talk to ‘em”

He loves being your big spoon anyways but he would not let you go if you looked or sounded ill. You’d be nestled carefully against his chest while he stroked your back until you fell asleep.

He’d keep you entertained by reading to you or watching whatever TV your fever-ridden mind is craving.

Above all, he wouldn’t leave your side until you were feeling better.

The smile on his face the next time you take him out would be brilliant. He’s just so happy that you’re here with him and feeling better.

Matt

Personally, i hate the idea of getting people sick more than actually being sick sometimes but i think this would especially be the case with Matt

His senses are so delicate, I wouldn’t want to fuck with him by being gross and loud or by getting him sick.

But there is no way this man isn’t the biggest self-sacrificing-mother-hen when someone he loves is sick.

He’d sense your illness before you would, and encourage you to take it easy and sleep a bit extra that week (above all, he’s a hypocrite.)

Of course, he’s a bit embarrassed of everything he can do, or maybe you don’t know the extent of what he is capable of, so he plays it off as “you’ve been working so hard lately, sweetheart, you need to take it easy.”

A day or two before the bug hits you like a truck, he’d come over with a bag from the pharmacy that’s just chock-full of DayQuil and Tea and cough drops and like a single bandaid

He poorly plays it off as “uh, your first aid kit was low, remember?”

Once you’re well and truly sick, he’d be stubborn as a mule if you tried to keep him away. You lock him out of your apartment? You wake up from a nap wrapped in a Devil-shaped blanket to find that someone picked your window lock.

At that point, you just cave and let him stay because you are so cold and he’s so so warm.

Mikey

Not afraid of using his puppy dog eyes to get you to stay home or in bed.

Also not afraid of crying wolf and pretending that he’s not feeling well to make you take a break

“Sorry, pet, my head is hammerin’. Think we could lay down fer a bit?”

Combined WITH the puppy eyes? You don’t stand a chance.

Though you usually take care of the housework while he’s dealing with his family’s business, he wouldn’t let you lift a finger until your temperature was normal and your voice came back.

It’s as if you’re the only person that exists to him, he’s running around trying to anticipate your every need.

It’s been a while since he’s dealt with the real world so he might ask Birdy for advice on how to care for a sick person.

Lots of home remedies (idk just vibes.)

He would have you lean against him in a scalding shower to clear your sinuses or draw you a nice bath.

Keep cool water and a cloth by the bed to bring your fever down.

Hand you cup after cup of tea until you have to threaten to tie him to the bed.

“Just lay with me, please”

“Of course, pet. Anything fer ya.”

[xoxovalrea]

Love Galore - ft fem reader + nanami kento 

A/n: I literally still cant get over the fact that he died😞 anyways put on All the time 🕊️

                          🎀Minors DNI🎀

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You’re the best friend of gojo and you dont really mind going to parties with him but a pool party hell to the no. You for one can’t swim for shit and gojo too damn goofy, “ pleaseeeee ya gotta come ” gojo basically whines while almost crushing you “ get ya big ass off me ” you push him away looking at the swim wear section of a store in the mall. “ Look it’ll be fineee its not like your ex is gonna be there ” he looks at you like a kid in a candy store “ fine gojo ill go dont be a pain in the ass tho and for fucks sake help me ” he smiles and laughs showing you this cute blue flower halter top bikini.

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You’re at the party and of course gojo is no where to be found and you’re sitting at the island sipping a cup of pink whiskey that gojo gave you scrolling through your phone and you notice someone coming in the house. “ Hey why aren’t you outside ” the blonde man says “oh im sorry if you didn’t want people inside ill go out” you chuckle a bit and get up. “ oh no no I didn’t mean it like that its just you came in with gojo and I figured you were his girlfriend or whatever ” you hear him chuckle and you get a little offended “oh what no he’s too much of a hoe to be dating we are just really close friends” you laugh a bit and he sits next to you “oh im Kento Nanami by the way and nice bathing suit” you smile and say “thanks I love it its just not my color ” he looks at you puzzled “ of course it is i dont meant to be pushy but you look beautiful ” you smile and give him a thank you. As time passes you get to know him more and the alcohol hits yalls system he gets a bit bolder just simply touching your knee and complimenting alot. He gets up to give everyone their goodbyes leaving you him and gojo. “ Tired ” gojo says laying on your thighs and instantly falling asleep. Nanami comes back face tinted with a little pink “ if you and gojo want to stay over y’all can ” he chuckles a bit licking his lips “ sure Nanami ” you say running your hands through gojo’s hair. “ toru get up lets go to bed ” you say lifting him up like a big baby Nanami smiles leading you to the guest bedroom. You tuck gojo in and close the door, and walk back into the living room where Nanami is pouring two glasses of wine. The conversation gets deeper and so does the alcohol so Nanami leans in and kisses you. 

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Nanami breaks the kiss and takes your bathing suit top off and looks at your tits in awe as he sucks your nipple earning a low whimper. He massages the other breast as low whimpers escape your lips Nanami lets go now focusing on your other nipple his hand trailing down your body. Reaching between your thighs he then pulls away with a smile and kisses down your body leaving small hickeys as he goes. He stops and spreads your legs seeing the wet spot on your swimsuit bottoms “ fuck your basically dripping f’me ” he smirks pulling the bottoms down and off your legs. He slides his middle finger back and fourth between your lips and groans biting and kissing your thighs. “ Nanami please eat me out ” you say running your fingers through his hair he listens and licks a stripe from your hole to your clit before sucking it you throw your head back and grip his hair pushing him more into you. He slides a finger into you making you arch your back even more and he groans into your clit making you melt into him as he slides another finger in and you accidentally let out a loud moan clasping your hands on your face and you hear nanami laugh as he starts increasing his pace. You feel a knot in your stomach and your tighten around his fingers muffled nanami says “ let it out baby cum f’me ” after a few more thrusts and moans you shake and cum on nanami’s fingers. He pulls them out and licks them he gets up and takes his shorts off and sits back “ baby get on your knees and suck this dick ” you follow his orders and get on the floor and lick a stripe along his dick and slowly take his tip in your mouth you go down about mid way and gag a bit and he groans and throws his head back you feel his hand tangle in your hair forcing you up and down while you gag. “ Fuck me honey you’re gonna make me cum- fuck ” he lifts your head up and wipes the drool and pre-cum off of your chin and slides his thumb between your lips. He lifts you up and puts you on the couch on your back “ you ready ” he says through shaky breaths “ yes kento ” you look up at him through teary lashes. He blushes and slides his tip in letting out a loud groan sliding in more hearing a moan slip past your lips he lets you adjust and you tap him giving him the okay and he starts off slow and gets faster within seconds. Hitting your cervix with each thrust and he’s only halfway in. “ Fuck kento baby im gona cum fuck ” you say gripping to his back for dear life through groans and fuck’s he says “ yea honey cum f’me ” his words bringing you to your orgasm. He keeps pounding you until you feel his dick twitch he holds your hand tightly as he slams all his length into you making you scream and shake he rubs your clit harder making you tighten around him “ fuck can I cum inside please can I ” he looks at you pounding harder and you nod yes but he doesn’t take that for an answer so you utter out “ yes please nanami cum in me ” he groans loudly bottoming out as you shake and cum in his arms. Nanami pulls out getting up to run a bath and he cleans both of you up and lets you wear his shirt and you fall asleep cuddled with him.

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A/n: I woulda made this more kinky but the word limit😞🙏 anyways luv ya byeeee💗💗 (dw gojo slept thru it☺️🕊️)

[plush-rabbit]

Stiff Hands

Request: Idk if youve seen Twilight, more specifically the tent scene in Eclipse.  So ill explain the scene,

Bella,Edward,Jacob are all ontop of a snowy,cold ass mountain in a tent. Bella being human is freezing her ass off, cant cuddle her bf Eds bc hes cold af, so she has to cuddle up to Jacob, whos very warm and isnt cold at all. Eddie boy is not happy and they bicker while Bella dozes off happy she isnt going to die from the cold.

Now , imagine that but with Shigaraki, Dabi and reader & Dabi havin a thing for reader too but reader is with Shigaraki

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: I was super excited to do this one because despite all the flaws with Twilight, damn is it addictive

-

The cold nips between the broken cracks of the long abandoned home, graffiti strewn in paint against the walls, cracks and splintered furniture pushed against the entryways. What once must have been a quaint home, is nothing more than a squatter’s den, trash thrown around, cigarette butts and broken glass swept against the wall because you’d be damned if you slept on glass. 

At the moment, it’s the best that you and the other two could have found on such short notice for a vicious cold front that would sweep the area. You lay the blanket over the floor, pulling on the corners of the blanket, trying to cover as much space as the three of you would need.

“There’s a bed, ya know.” Dabi kicks at the side of your foot and you stick your tongue out at him.

“I found needles and we’re in the middle of the woods-” you look up at him, clasping your hands together- “I’m not risking whatever disease or fluid is on that bed.” Standing, you bring your clasped hands to the front of your mouth, blowing hot air against them. “I’ll risk the floor. So, do you mind starting a fire?”

You watch as he walks just behind you, his hands hovering over the broken end table, and blue ignites the table, a roar of fire that consumes the legs and holds steady. You murmur a thank you, letting your hands thaw, feeling the warmth touch at the tip of your nose, and spread towards your cheeks and down your neck and over the shells of your ears. 

“We’ll have to put the fire out when we go to bed,” Tomura says walking back into the old living room, carrying broken pieces of furniture and tossing them near the wall. “I’d bet his fire would cremate you before it could even reach your lungs.”

“Don’t be such a downer, Tomura,” you chastise, but still, you move your hands a bit closer to you.

“Yeah, Tomura,” Dabi says in the same sickly sweet tone that you used, “don’t be such a downer.” 

“No teasing,” you say hurriedly, not wanting an argument against your partner and a man with a very effective quirk. “I don’t think I’ll have the brainpower to handle the both of you.”

Dabi shuts his mouth, and looks away. Tomura frowns and walks towards you; his partially gloved hands scratch against your cheeks. “I’m sorry that you’re stuck here,” he apologizes. “I would’ve sent you with Compress if I had known how cold it would have gotten.”

“Please, then you’d be here alone with Dabi and the both of you would’ve done something mean to each other, or you’d be stuck with Twice who, sweet as he is, would have instigated a fight if he could.” Your hands follow suit, cupping his cheeks and smiling softly. “I’m glad that I’m here with you.”

“If you’re going to fuck, you’re using the bed,” Dabi interrupts, effectively putting the conversation to a close.

“Dabi, I would rather die than let any part of me touch that bed.” You place the pillows against the edge of the blanket, laying down and spreading the other blankets over you, resting and curling into a fetal position, feeling exhaustion weigh heavy over your bones. You close your eyes, clutching the blankets into fistfuls. “Make sure one of you puts out the fire before falling asleep.”

“You’re not even going to help?” You hear Dabi ask.

“Too tired and too cold,” you reply with your eyes closed. 

“Must be nice fucking the boss, huh?” You lift your head to give him a pointed look. “Just saying.” He rolls his eyes at the look, kicking a piece of broken furniture away from the fire. “It’d be nice to get special treatment.”

“Call me pretty and I’ll convince Tomura to give you bigger rations.” You give him a crooked smiling, only breaking when the wind howls outside. 

“That’s all it takes?” Dabi asks, walking over to you, and standing on what would be his side.

“What can I say,” you retort, “I’m easy.”

He crouches to a bend, his smile easy and soft, and in a voice that holds zero sarcasm, he tells you in a raspy voice, “I think you’re very pretty.”

The lack of playfulness has heat burn from your chest, upwards, and you turn, your smile too wide and words too rushed. “Tomura, Dabi needs bigger rations next time.” You give a shaky laugh that is easily disguised by the shivering. 

“I didn’t agree to that,” your partner tells you, his hands over the fire, ending each finger down, and regaining a bit of warmth back.

You turn back to Dabi, giving him an apologetic smile. “Guess I got a free compliment from you, huh.”

“If you wanted me to call you pretty, all you had to do was ask nicely.” He stands up and walks over to the fire. You follow him, watching his back, eyes focused on a patch of burnt skin, and you swallow dryly, turning around and getting back into a comfortable position that doesn’t quite feel the same that it once did moments before.

-

The cold burrows its way into your bones, you can feel it in your body, embedded into you, and it wakes you from your slumber. Without Dabi beside you, you’re sure that you would have frozen, have your blood become solid in you. The cold chills you from the inside of your body and out. Nails scrape down from the blanket to Dabi, careful to not touch any skin because you can feel just how cold your hands are, stiff and frozen. You clutch onto him, and he grunts, moving closer to you. Behind you, your partner pushes himself against your back, and you can feel how cold he is, even though he doesn’t shiver, the tip of his nose has goosebumps breaking along your skin.

“Are you okay, Tomura?” You ask, eyes shut tight and teeth chattering.

“Better than you are,” he replies. “You’re freezing.” His breath is warm along the back of your neck. “This cold isn’t that harsh for me.”

“Lucky you,” you whine, letting out a shaky breath that you shiver violently. 

“Can we all shut up,” Dabi breathes out and it’s warm, and you’re desperate. You twist your hands into his shirt, and bury yourself under his chin.  It's too intimate, but when his body heat starts to spread to you, and the shivering isn't as violent, you can't bring yourself to care.

“I think we should have risked the forest fire.” You can’t even attempt a laugh for your own quip, your smile cracks along your lips and your skin feels dry at the corners of your mouth. You remind yourself to make sure that Tomura at least moisturizes once a day. 

"Watch your hands," he seethes out. 

You feel the warmth on your waist, hands nestled under the layers of clothes that you wear, slide across your stomach and peel themselves away from you, the warmth that’s left behind a ghost, a reminder of the bitter cold that has seeped into your bones and chaps your lips. 

“‘M cold,” your mumble, close to tears, pulling him closer to you. His hands are rough and scratch at your skin when they return to hold your waist. You release a shaky breath against his neck, letting out a low whine when his nails scratch against the soft swell of your stomach. 

“They’re cold,” Dabi counters, fingertips stretching to your spine, fire igniting against you, making your stomach tighten and twist. “Say the word, and they can freeze to death.” His voice is low, and he smooths his hand over your back, feeling your plush skin cushion under his hands. “Your call, boss,” he hisses out.

It’s silent, and you can feel the tension in the air, but at the moment, you can’t think about anything else but the cold. “No fighting,” you mumble, already close to tears. “Tomura,” you call to him, your voice a high whine. Your hands search for his, and when he intertwines his hands with yours, you pull them to you, his second knuckle ghosting over your lips where you give him a gentle kiss. “You okay?” You ask, intaking a sharp breath when Dabi slides his hands up your back, reaching between your shoulder blades. “Fuck, Dabi,” you let out a breathless laugh, “give me a warning before, will ya?”

“Still cold?” He mutters beside you, taking your attention away from your partner. 

“Obviously,” the other answers for you, pressing his lips against the back of your neck. He mumbles an apology when you flinch away.

“My hands feel stiff,” you answer, trying to tighten your hands around your partner but you’re only able to give him a soft squeeze. “Feels like they’re gonna fall off.” Your breath trembles as you exhale, and you feel the cold hold onto your chest.

Heat ghosts across your body, down your back, across your waist, wrapped around your elbows and pulled down to your wrists until it envelops itself around your hands and you feel yourself begin to thaw. It replaces what was once there, and there's a complaint that falls onto deaf ears when your hands are lifted and breathed into life again. For the first moment in the night, you believe that you are going to make it through the night without the loss of anything dear to you. 

“Does that help?” Dabi asks in a quiet voice, and you nod, tears springing in the corners of your eyes. You can tighten the grip of your hands, and you give him a tight squeeze- as much as you could manage at least. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out, using every bit of energy to give your gratitude. 

“Anytime,” he says after a pause. 

-

You’re finally asleep, face turned to him, and hands still holding onto his. Whenever the wind whistles, you let out a shiver, body inching closer to his, seeking him out and as you do so, so does Tomura. His arms are wrapped around you, holding on tightly. The both of you are asleep in your partner’s sleep, and with you in his arms, Dabi can picture for a second that it’s just the two of you- it’s Touya and you. It’s Dabi and you. It's you and him. There’s no else that you would hold so close, so dearly, so sweetly. You cling to him because you want to, and he can play pretend for a moment that this is the routine, that you love him so, and that you want him. He can play pretend that it was him who swept you off your feet and made you fall first. 

He has many regrets in his life. His existence, his actions, his words. Himself. He regrets not taking your offer for a team-up. You went with Shigaraki instead. You bonded with him, and when you both returned from the short mission, you seemed closer. You’d sneak into his bedroom and his to yours, and he’d press his ear against the door, not caring that his shadow would peek under the doorframe. All he cared for was listening to you, and he heard you laugh, he heard the two of you kiss, the hushed voices and in the morning he would watch as you two sat together, talking as if you hadn’t spoken throughout the night.

His chest would tighten, and Dabi still doesn’t know why he acted so cold; why he refused to go on a mission with you. If he had, maybe he could have replaced Shigaraki in your life. You would hold him, you would kiss him sweetly as if no one was watching. You’d massage his hands and let him rest his head on your chest and sleep. You’d care for him.

Your forehead is warm against his lips, and he stays there for a moment too long, letting his eyes close for the night. For this night, he can fall asleep with you, and he can think about how nice you smell, and how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and foreign, and all too tempting to never lift his hands away from yours. He commits the feeling of your hands to his memory. 

-

In the morning, the cold front has moved, a chill still in the air but not enough for you to cling to him like last night.

He steps out, hands tucked into his pockets, his jacket smelling like the hints of your body cream, and he nestles his nose into the scent.

“Hey there, stranger,” you say standing beside him. He gives you hum, looking out into the forest, trying to focus on anything but you. “Well, I just wanted to say thank you for last night.” He glances towards you and you’re already looking at him. “If you ever need anything, just ask.” You smile, and you turn to go back inside, you hesitate, your smile faltering. You turn to him, your hand holding onto his bicep and squeezing it as you reach up to peck at his cheek. When you pull away, your smile has returned. “Thanks again, Dabi.”

It’s stupid. It’s a peck. And yet, it gives him hope that maybe you like him the way that he likes you. 

“How are your hands?” He blurts out, not wanting you to leave him.

You smile and lift your hands, making a grabbing motion in the air to show off how relaxed your fingers are once again. “Better,” you say with a smile. “Thanks again Dabi. If you ever need anything let me know, okay?” You lift your hand and wave in goodbye, and you turn the corner without looking back at him.

He follows you without thinking, slinking around the corners of the house until he finds you in a room with sunlight peeking through a broken ceiling. You stand with your partner in the room, and Dabi listens.

Dabi stands by the wall, his head turned and ears trying to strain to hear your partner talk. “I uh-” Shigaraki clears his throat- “I don’t like being apart from you.” You hum and Dabi can picture the shit-eating grin that’s plastered on your face. “I was thinking, when we get the chance-'' he curses and Dabi takes a peek and sees you cupping Shigaraki’s face, your thumb rubbing arches over his cheek. 

“Take your time,” you coo, your attention solely on him. Dabi doubts either of you have noticed him by now. “I’m still here.”

His heart beats in his chest, and bile rises to burn his throat. Shigaraki continues, taking a small step closer to you. “I want you to be here forever.” He sounds serious about it, looking at you, and Dabi’s stomach does flips, intestines twisting upon themselves into a knot, making every part of him want to retch out his insides. “I don’t want you to leave me.”

You haven’t taken your eyes off of him. Your hand lowers down to cup his neck and Shigaraki covers your hand with his, lifting his pinky upwards. You don’t even flinch when he does so. “I don’t think I want to leave you anytime soon,” you trail off, clearing your throat; he’s never heard you speak so softly. “Are you going to leave me?”

“Never,” he answers quickly.

He wonders how many times he must have told you that, how much you know that he would never leave you, because at his earnest answer, you don’t even look taken aback- you look like you’ve accepted it for the thousandth time. You smile, and it’s wide and stretches upwards and gives you wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. “Okay, then.” You twist your hand under his, careful and practiced in avoiding his whole touch, holding it loosely in yours and you bring the knuckle of his index to your lips. “You and me then.” Shigaraki doesn’t dare look elsewhere. “Till death do us part,” you say with your lips still against his knuckle, “in your half-assed proposal.”

“Shut up.” Dabi can’t even recognize the voice who says that. It’s soft and playful, and it isn’t the calloused voice of a villain. It’s the voice of someone who can look behind them, and know that someone will follow and care.

Somewhere in him, he can feel whatever was left of himself and a will for a normal life, or a cheap masquerade for it, breaks. Dabi’s stomach twists and there’s a void in him that has always been there, that cements in him and has warmth burn down his face and bile burn his throat.. He stares at the wall in front of him, wood and pink stuffing exposed by the elements, and he can hear you laugh in the other room.

[wantonlywindswept]

Good Dad Paz pt 3

one | two

whew, this one fought me a bit at the end there. definitely doesn’t have anything to do with the fact i haven’t slept yet tho

considering adding ‘vod’ to the list of untranslatable Mando’a, it has a level of camaraderie/brothers-in-arms feel that just brother/sister doesn’t really convey well enough. maybe in the edit, if i ever edit

---

Paz didn't like seeing Din wounded.

It was unnatural, their covert's best Hunter laying so silent and still. Din was quiet, but he was also a man of action: he never seemed to stay in one place long enough to rest, for good or for ill. He was always in motion, coming and going on his bounties, talking quietly with the foundlings, helping out around the covert. 

But Din had barely stirred when Paz pulled him out of the weird creature's cage, limp and insensate from whatever he'd been injected with. Paz did his best to make him comfortable, using his ratty old cloak as a pillow and placing him gently near the fire, but there wasn't much he could do other than wait. 

Wait, and stand guard, as he always had.

"He'll be fine, little one," Paz rumbled, sitting with his back to the wall in view of the entrance, Din laying next to him. The foundling cooed unhappily and tucked his head against his father's neck; as soon as Paz had placed him there, Din had curled around the child, protective even in sleep.

"Patoo."

"I've seen him get through worse than this," Paz replied mildly, "And I'm guessing you have, too."

"...leh."

"That's what I thought."

Most of Paz's supplies were topside with his ship, but he did keep emergency rations on him at all times - even if the emergencies tended to just be 'a foundling is hungry'. He set aside one of the ration bars for Din; for the child, he mixed some of his canteen water and a packet of nutrient paste together in the cup from his field kit, setting it near the edge of the fire to warm. 

He didn't actually know what the kid ate - or even what species he was - but going with something hard to choke on was generally a safe bet with babies.

Din started waking up by the time the broth was finished; Paz tested the temperature with an un-gloved finger before handing it to the little one. He reached over to place his hand flat on Din's chest at the sound of a muffled groan.

"Easy," he said. "You're safe."

"Wha-- Paz?"

"Your child is also safe," he added, as if said foundling wasn't slurping noisily right next to Din's head. 

"Grogu..?"

Aha, finally, a name for the kid. It sounded familiar, so Din had probably said it at some point before, but Din said lots of things that Paz tended to ignore.

Din tilted his helmet toward him.

"Paz?"

Paz frowned.

"Do you have a concussion?"

"...no?"

Reassuring.

Din struggled against the hand on his chest, and Paz reluctantly helped him sit up. He dropped the canteen and a ration bar in Din's lap and shuffled around so they were back-to-back, Din propped against him in a heavy weight that Paz didn't mind bearing. 

"Drink something. And eat, if you can stomach it. You need to replace whatever that thing took out of you."

Mostly blood, from what Paz could tell, but he admittedly didn't look too closely.

Din grunted in assent; Paz heard the cap of his canteen unscrew, and the soft hiss of a helmet seal disengaging. He kept his gaze straight ahead, idly scanning the room. 

"Found your kid topside," he said. "He led me down here to you. Smart little thing."

"He is," Din agreed softly. His voice sounded even worse without the vocoder modulating it, rough and tired and strained: vulnerable, in a way that their armor was designed to conceal. 

Paz stood guard while Din ate, a hand on the assault cannon at his side, his body blocking the view from the entryway. But the sewers stayed calm, just the crackling of the fire and the child's happy coos interrupting the companionable quiet. He waited until he heard Din pull his helmet back on, and the soft sizzle of a wrapper being disposed of in the fire.

Then he waited some more.

"Paz," Din said, eventually, "What are you doing here?"

"Saving your sorry ass, obviously."

Din snorted, uncontrolled and undignified, and thunked his helmet ungently against the back of Paz's. 

"Paz."

Paz sighed, tapping his fingers one-two-three against the barrels of his cannon. 

"The foulding you saved," he said. "The one who was swearing the Creed."

Din hummed in inquiry.

"He is mine."

"Oh," Din breathed. "Oh, Paz, that's wonderful. Congratulations."

Paz grinned widely beneath his helmet, ducking his head a little. The fierce pride he felt whenever he looked at Ragnar, when he remembered that he'd been gifted with a child of his own to cherish - it still surprised him, sometimes, the depth of the emotion. He'd always loved the foundlings in their covert, would have happily died to protect them - but something about having Ragnar as his son made him want to live. 

"I came in second, as usual," he groused good-naturedly. "You'd already gone and found yourself a child first."

"Ah, that's...not quite correct."

Paz blinked. 

"What?"

"I mean I haven't, yet," Din said. "He's not mine, not really. I haven't sworn the words to him."

Paz blinked again.

Then he twisted around to stare incredulously at his utter idiot of a brother.

"You what?"

[pt 4]

[razenoth]

SOLO 1: SCARS.

tw :: discussion of harm to a child.

“One of the earliest memories I have is of my mom, like most kids.”

It’s an unfamiliar topic of conversation to him—his mother, his childhood, what memories he does or doesn’t have. Asten has never even considered talking about his childhood with anyone, and if not for this impromptu “mental health examination”, he sure as hell would have never chosen a Shinra doctor to be the first he opened up to.

The room is cold, and combined with his nerves, he’s unable to keep himself from shifting around in the stupidly comfortable desk chair. It’s almost like one of those therapy appointments he’s seen in the movies. He has to suppress a laugh at the irony.

On the other side of the desk, Asten can feel himself being watched even though he refuses to look at the man in front of him. He feels like some kind of zoo animal, and he hates it - but the other man makes a soft “mm?” sound, a signal for him to speak again, and Asten shoves down the urge to stab him with one of the many pens in the cup he is so 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 interested in staring at.

“...She was cutting the backs of my shoulder blades open, and my screaming didn’t really seem to do much to get her to stop. All she would tell me is shut up—until she got tired of it, and gave me a cloth to bite down on.”

Asten tries to count the pens. He wonders, briefly, why anyone would need 23 of the same brand of writing utensil. It’s not like they run out very quick, right? Unless they’re really shitty pens.

This isn’t helping. He starts tracing little shapes on the surface of the desk with his nail. The bright red of his nail polish is a nice contrast against the grey.

“I remember she was mumbling, really softly, while she was doing it. I could only hear after the cloth was in my mouth… but even then, it was kind of hard. It took a while to realize she was repeating the same things, over and over. Something about not wanting me to be a monster. Something about wings. A wing.”

As he speaks, he realizes he never really knew much about his mother. She was protective, overly so, and she was a really great teacher… but isn’t that just standard mom stuff? He never knew her to have a personality of her own. There was nothing but quiet, unstable, protective Mom. Even her relationship with Dad seemed kind of strained, but maybe that was because of whatever was going on with her psychologically.

The only thing Dad ever said about Mom was that she was mentally ill. That she started breaking down after she got pregnant with Asten.

So maybe it was his fault, then.

“She was really sweet, afterward, she took care of me really well. It was like she went back to her old self after snapping for a while—really quiet, gentle. She only snapped like that a couple times after, and then she’d really baby me for a while. Almost like she was apologizing, without saying sorry.

…I forgave her. I mean, she’s my mom. I had to.”

Asten braves a glance upward, but actually 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 himself being stared at makes him angry. The reality of the situation comes rushing in, a dull nagging in his chest—and suddenly, the loudest sound in the room is his heel practically drilling the floor.

It feels dehumanizing. The staring, the obvious taking of notes, the sterile, freezing office. Everyone around here is so set on asking questions, never answering them. Nobody bothered to explain Nibelheim, or why Zack deserted just like the others right after.

He was always met with 'we can't tell you right now.'

'We don't know all the details ourselves.'

Liars.

The doctor opens his mouth to speak, but Asten can’t tolerate whatever question he’s about to be asked. He quickly rises from the chair, listening to wheels against tile as it rolls backward from the force.

“We’re not finished,” the doctor responds, gesturing for Asten to sit, “There’s more that we need to talk about. It’s important that we understand how you’re doing. You don’t seem to be much better than when—”

“Stop.” Asten hisses, shaking his head. He won’t listen, he won’t deal with it. Won’t talk about it. Not about his mother, about Genesis, about Zack, Sephiroth, Angeal, everyone who died. Everything he never got answers for.

“I’m done. I have shit to do.”

It’s the safest response. Nothing good would come from attacking him, or threatening him—just more paperwork and disciplinary measures he doesn’t want to deal with right now.

Turning and walking out is all he can do. The plants in the dorm need tending.

[astaroth1357]

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer 

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty… 

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression*  “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan 

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was  literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too… 

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit?? 

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat… 

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus 

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub 

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup…. 

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…) 

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor 

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

[the-apprentice-lia]

Hey! I saw that you do headcanons as well? Sorry if I’m asking in the right place but I loved your post on Asra’s hurt!! Could you possibly do the “mc getting slapped by the m6” ask please? My angsty little heart needs foodddd

hiii!! i’m so glad you liked my post:)) don’t worry, i’ll do my best to not cry when i’m writing this although it probably won’t work

i just wanna say that under no circumstances is it okay to hurt your partner!! please don’t take this post the wrong way:)

the main 6 slapping mc

asra

• it probably started because of how much he keeps from you. you know it’s just because he doesn’t want to see you hurt or unhappy because of how much of your life you’ve lost to your premature death, but it’s still so infuriating. you’re not a child, and you tell him as much.

• as much as you love each other, arguments can get messy. you know so much about each other that it’s difficult not to go for the soft parts in an argument, and you just snap.

• they’re probably running his hands through his hair, tears of frustration and pent up feelings slipping down his cheeks and catching the light of the many candles around the shop, making them glister strangely beneath the low light.

• “asra, you’re being ridiculous. how in the arcana am i supposed to know about who i was if you won’t fucking tell me?” you shout at them, crystals and glass bottles clinking together on the shelves.

• asra breaks, finally raising his voice as well, telling you that you’re acting like a child. you feel a twisted feeling of satisfaction at his loss of control. at least they’re actually treating you like a person— but you’re still so frustrated.’why can’t he just see that you’re not a china doll, easily broken and delicately made?

•you’re screaming now, tears blurring your vision. all you see is red. “if i’m acting like such a child then why did you even bother bringing me back? you should have just fucking left me to rot beneath the lazaret if you won’t so much as—” you’re cut off with a sharp crack.

• asra’s stronger than they look, and he wasn’t thinking as he lashed out in anger and pain, so you probably stumble back into the shelves behind you, or onto the counter of the shop.

• you touch your hand to your hot cheek with a dull feeling of surprise. it’s as if everything is through a haze, your gaze flickering up to meet asra’s horrified one as you take a step back, a dry sob heaving through your chest as your knees give out and you sink to the floor.

• “mc, i’m so sorry, i can’t— i don’t— please. i’m so sorry,” he stumbles over his words as he crouches before you, giving you enough space that you could easily leave. you don’t, and he breathes out slowly as they reach towards you and gently, heartbreakingly softly, cups your face to turn it towards him. he inhales sharply as he takes in your bruised cheekbone, red already beginning to spread outwards in the shape of his hand, and he flinches to see that he’s hurt you, his beloved apprentice.

• he opens his arms slowly, hesitantly, and you sink into them, burying your face in his scarves and then drawing back slightly with a faint hiss as your cheek touches the fabric, and he lets out a sob as well, burying his face in your sweet-smelling hair. murmurs “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” into you over and over again, rocking you back and forth on the floor of the shop.

• he’ll hurt for weeks after, even after the bruise fades, he’ll simply refuse to touch you for days after the incident. whispers “but what if i hurt you,” his voice breaking at the mere thought of it, and you cradle him to you, stroking his cheek as he shakes.

nadia

• the argument was probably about her refusing to ask for help. she’s been alone for so long that the refusal simply comes naturally. she has to prove that she can be successful alone, that she can make something of herself without anyone.

• at first, you tell her gently that she can trust you, that you’re always here for her, and that she doesn’t have to do this alone— but she doesn’t want to hear it, telling you insistently that she doesn’t need any help.

• “your dark circles would say otherwise, nadi! you can’t keep going on like this!” you tell her, your voice strained as you lay a hand on her arm. you just want to help her, but she won’t listen to you. “i can do it myself,” she tells you coldly, pulling away from you and turning back to her work. “i don’t need your help. i never have.”

• you feel the hurt blossom in your chest, but you try to push it down as you close her books, smudging the ink on a document by mistake. “nadi, please.” you tell her, but she doesn’t even seem to hear you as she opens her books and sets her jaw, looking at the ruined document. you bite your lip in dismay and go to apologise, but she cuts in before you get the chance. “you ruin everything. you’re such a nuisance, can you not find anything better to do with your time than to bother me? i am the countess of vesuvia, and i don’t need your help.” she’s shouting by the end of her outburst, and you recoil, hurt now showing across your face— but it’s quickly replaced by anger.

• you laugh disbelievingly, your voice spiteful and pained as you speak. “you don’t need my help? well that’s certainly a different tune than the one you were singing when you came to me in the middle of the night, asking for my help. and even then i gave it unbegrudgingly. you’re so stubborn, nadia! you’re so ridiculously naïve that you can’t even see that not everybody’s against you. so your sisters acted like every older sibling the world over, and excluded you from a few games. you carry grudges as if the world’s out to get you and nobody seeks to help you. you’re such a child! why—” your screaming cuts off at the sharp crack.

• you cry out at the sudden flare of pain. nadia’s also a lot stronger than she looks— i mean, she’s a master sword-fighter. and so, you stumble backwards into the marble table opposite her desk, turning away from her to catch your breath, your figure shaking with quiet sobs. everything seems to fall away, and you hold your arms around yourself in a poor attempt to keep your paroxysms of sobs quiet.

• nadia is completely silent. the jarring force snapped her out of whatever tired grumpiness she had been wallowing in, and now she’s just looking at her hands, a look of absolute horror twisting her features as she takes in the hand, resting palm-down on her knees, that she used to— to— she can’t even think about it. she has betrayed your trust, used your relationship, built on a foundation of love and mutual respect, to hurt you. it’s as if she’s seeing the world through a haze of disbelief. she’s taken advantage of your love for her, she’s physically violated you, and the thought of that leaves her physically ill. hot tears drop steadily into her lap, as she turns her hands over, and her eyes widen even more, if possible, with horror. blood glisters thickly on her index finger, coating the closest section to her palm where a golden ring sits. the countess of vesuvia never takes her rings off during the day, and she’s snapped out of her daze by the quiet hiss that comes from where you stand.

•when the first tears stream down your face, you hiss at the sharp pain, touching your fingers gently to your face and wincing as they come into contact with… is that a wound? you stare at them as they come away a deep, garnetine red. your hair is sticking to the blood running down your face from the wound. you sob dryly as the pain sets in, and by the gods it stings. it seems that even the air twists into your opened skin, burning sharply. you’re so lost in the mist of disbelief you barely notice when nadia comes up behind you.

• “my love?” her voice comes, softly, and you stiffen as she lays a hand on your upper arm. she withdraws it quickly as her voice breaks. “please, mc. say anything. look at me, i beg of you.” you don’t say anything for a minute before you inhale softly and turn to her.

• something in nadia breaks. she lifts shaking fingers up to her mouth as your eyes meet hers, and she takes in what she’s done to you. she’s sliced your upper-cheek open from just short of the bridge of your nose to almost the edge of your face. and the cut is deep. bruising spreads around it, in the shape of her hand, and she lets out a sob before dropping to her knees, taking your hand in hers. “by the arcana, mc, i am so, so sorry— i don’t know— i can’t— please, my love, i am so sorry,” she presses her forehead to your hand before you start to cry, sinking to your knees as well and burying your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking. you hiss softly as you draw your hand away and it comes away a glistening, wine-dark red.

• you flinch away from her as she comes to envelop you in a hug. “don’t. please,” you say softly, pulling yourself away from her. you leave bloodstains on the floor. her eyes hold inexplicable sorrow and remorse in them, as she nods haltingly, her heart breaking as she realises— you’re… afraid of her. later, she’ll bury her head into her pillow and sob her heart out but for now, she needs you to know to not be afraid of her. she loves you, you know that— and you need to know she’ll never violate the trust you put in her again.

• “mc… please. i’m so, so inexplicably sorry for what i’ve done to you. i promise it will never happen again.” her voice is soft, and she speaks to you as if you’re a wounded deer she’s found in the palace gardens, her voice breaking as she lets you see that she’s approaching you, her arms in front of her as she holds them out softly when she’s quite close to you.

• you look at her, meet her eyes with yours, and slowly settle into her embrace as she lets out a quiet sob of relief, burying her head in your hair. you pull away with a quiet gasp of pain when her hair meets your wound, and she cups your face (your good side) softly, stroking your cheek with her thumb as you close your eyes and she moves closer to you, giving you the time to pull away before her lips meet your forehead and she kisses you there gently before pressing one just above your cut and pulling you back to her, minding your cheek. you cry softly into her chest, and she does so into your hair. the two of you stay there until the blood starts to dry on your cheek and she stands, helping you up.

• “i’m taking you to the infirmary, dearest one.” “but… nadia.” you gesture to the state you’re in with a raised eyebrow. blood stains your collar and had dripped down your cheek in steady rivulets— and now your entire cheek is coated in blood. the cut itself is deep and thorough, splitting the skin so that the flesh beneath is easily visible, and the black, blue, and red flesh around your cut in the shape of nadia’s hand is enough that there is no room to doubt how your injury happened. “i’m your partner. there’s nobody else that would have done this— your entire court will know.” you look at her gently. “i can hide this.”

• and yet again, nadia’s heart is absolutely crushed. broken. shattered. “my heart, you should not have to hide what i have done. we’re going to the infirmary.”

• the entire way there, nadia weathers the stares and whispers with, for once, a bent head. you tighten your fingers around her hand— you know how important the favour of the court is. when you finally arrive, and you have to explain, haltingly, how you were injured, nadia gets a few looks of unbridled disgust as your injuries are treated. you squeeze her hand every now and again, and she looks at you gratefully. her eyes darken as you bite your lip roughly when the antiseptic meets it, your eyes watering as she strokes your hand, never taking her eyes away from you.

• afterwards, will absolutely doubt herself as a leader and a partner. no matter if you forgive her, no matter that the bruise fades and the wound heals, she’ll still always linger on your scar when she’s kissing your face, she’ll still murmur “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, darling,” into your hair for months after.

• if anyone is so much as even vaguely disdainful towards you with respects to your scar, you’ll literally have to talk her down from having them thrown out/arrested. you forgive her, and she loves you with all of her— but when dark feelings surface now there’s absolutely nothing you can do that will even get a shadow of a rise out of her. is just calm and collected. never so much as raises her voice at you.

• will 100% look at you as you sleep and hate herself for harming you in any way.

hope you enjoyed the angst fest!! these were so long— but i’ll do the next four periodically:)

[charnelhouse]

Can I trouble you for a few sentences on Din getting the kids ready for trick or treating? 🙇‍♀️

I miss him. 🥺

A/N: Din Djarin x F! Reader. Here's a quick thing. Fluff. Tired Din. Same universe as the rest.

“I can help,” you protest, rising from the bed. You almost immediately get dizzy, collapsing back into the sheets.

“No,” Din grunts as he leans over you - fluffing your pillow and pressing his palm to your brow. You’re still burning with fever. Your skin is clammy and you look awful. Din would never say that out loud - never admit that you look like shit. But - quite frankly - you look like shit.

“They need their costumes,” you slur as you wrap your fingers around Din’s wrist. He frowns - cupping your cheek gently.

“I know,” he reassures you. “I’ll get them dressed and take them. Cara can help me.”

You sniff as you release him. “This sucks.”

“I’ll bring them in when they’re dressed.”

You don’t respond. You’ve already passed out.

***

It’s a nightmare. The twins keep smacking each other with plastic swords. Z’s face paint is running due to the heat circulating in the house. Grogu has tripped over his Jawa robes several times in the last hour..

“Okay!” Din yells as four tiny faces snap to attention. “Go show your mother your outfits.”

They immediately race to your room - shoving at each other in their rush to get there first.

“Move,” Z growls as she trips Theo who proceeds to burst into tears.

Din sighs - lifting the sobbing toddler into his arms and following the others.

“Mama!” Lux sings as she attempts to scamper onto the bed in her Jedi robes. You sit up as best you can, your lips curling into a tired smile.

“No - no,” you object. “I’m sick - you don’t want to get my germs. Just come over to the side so I can see.”

Din lowers Theo to the floor and the four of them show off their costumes. Well - Grogu continues to eat whatever candied fruit he’d pilfered from the kitchen. The twins are Jedis. Grogu is a Jawa and Z is -

“I can’t believe you let her be a Sith Lord,” Din remarks slyly.

“If the shoe fits,” you tease as Z bares her teeth. “You look badass.”

Din snorts. “Language.”

“Whatever. I’m ill.”

***

He bribes Cara with alcohol in order to help him take the kids trick r treating. The streets are packed. Orange lanterns bob and drift above them. There are squash-like vegetables carved and alight. There’s music swelling out of windows as kids scream and laugh. It’s nice. Din wishes you were with him.

“Are you going to actually let them eat all that candy?” Cara asks as she takes another not so subtle sip from her flask.

“They can have one,” he says. “They’ll never sleep.”

He was already thick with bone-weary exhaustion. Trying to catch the toddlers and shove them into their costumes had taken all of his energy. His back ached and he wanted to be back in bed with you. You’d been so apologetic - gripping his face and promising him you’d take care of him later. It was made all the more sexy when you then proceeded to sneeze wetly onto his helmet.

“Don’t be silly,” he said. “You’re sick. You literally did all the work making their costumes. I can do this for you.”

“They’re terrors,” you whined. “Absolute shit heads. They’re gonna be impossible to keep track of.”

“I track people for a living.”

“Get Cara.”

“Fine.”

“They may or may not have already eaten a bag,” Cara says guiltily.

Din exhales. He counts to five. There had already been three meltdowns and Zara kept racing ahead of them. He’d have to deal with them shrieking their heads off back at the house. They’d pass out by dawn if he was lucky.

“It’s fine,” he replies between clenched teeth. “It’s absolutely - fine.”

[elysianslove]

ay yo? lmao haiiiii any chance we can get some haikyuu boys and nicknames they'd call their s/o? a lil deprived of kageyama, so if possible can you pls include him?? i hope you're doing well :)

omg wait i remember seeing this in my inbox and planning on answering it but i ,,, i forgot :( im sorry :( but here it is lovely <3 

HAIKYUU BOYS AND NICKNAMES 

ANGEL ! — 

akaashi; out of all his nicknames for you, this is his favorite!! he just thinks it’s very fitting for you, because you’re nothing short of ethereal for him. loves to say it when he’s first greeting you or as he kisses you gn or!!! when he says thank you :) 

osamu; it slips sometimes with him!! not his go-to but it’s very familiar on his tongue when it comes to you, and that’s very endearing :,) just slips casually when he’s asking you a question like, “angel, do we need milk?”  

daichi; omg he usually adds to it and it ends up being some cheesy stuff like “angel-face” and it makes you all flustered because wtf man :( and he always says it while laughing teasingly too ugh :( 

suna; suna has the cheesiest nicknames for you and you cannot convince me otherwise, and you can never tell if it’s genuine or ironic but,,, it doesn’t matter. he sounds so sweet calling you “angel” so whatever :) 

aran; this man. this man. he says it cause he knows it has you weak. he says it so lovingly, so sweetly, so casually, so suave and relaxed and his voice is so smooth and deep. who wouldn’t be swooning over him??? 

aone; AONE AONE PLS AONE PLEASE. he’d just think it’s such a sweet and kind and soft nickname and he likes the way it sounds when it’s whispered and he thinks nothing is more perfect than nicknaming you angel and he says it all the time like “ok, angel,” and “see you tomorrow, angel,” and, “love you, angel,” and it’s so quiet but so sweet hwbwjsjd 

oikawa; he’s about to be in 90% of these cause he’ll be calling you anything but your name. is it because he wants to be annoying and to get on your nerves? or is it because he genuinely means it? the world will never know. you’re not even sure he himself does. 

DOLL ! — 

matsukawa; are you kidding me this is his. it’s HIS. he sounds so hot saying it and he looks so hot saying it and he’s so charming and it’s so like easy on his tongue. and he has a slight drawl to it too and he always says it with this aura of relaxation and ease it’s so hot. he just. he loves it. he loves you. you love it. the world is a better place. 

atsumu; he thinks he’s way cooler than he is when he says it. you suppose he is pretty hot when he calls you doll but you’re not gonna tell him that!!! it’s not his go-to but you can catch it slipping off his tongue every once in a while. 

kuroo; yesyesyes he loves it. only ever says it when he’s so up close and personal with you like cups your cheeks and hovers his lips against yours like, “heya, doll,” and he’s just so handsome. ugh. 

kageyama; at the start of your relationship, kageyama called you by your name and nothing else!! but then he had like this talk w someone and they asked him what he calls you and he realized like,,, am i supposed to be doing it differently??? spent so long just searching up “cute nicknames for my s/o” and then he found “doll” and was like ok. i’ll try. and he tried!! and it stuck!! plus timeskip kags calling you doll??? that’s so hot bye

oikawa; this might be the only sincere nickname he has for you cause everything else is either to provoke you or to be cringy and annoying. and i’m sure you prefer doll over sweet cheeks and pumpkin pie and cinnamon whatever like you hungry tōru?? anyways he loves loves loves calling you doll cause he thinks it’s such a ? smooth and serene nickname? and his voice always gets deeper and quiet when he says it so!!!! 

SUNSHINE ! — 

hinata; please he is all the sunshine, but he always claims that you’re the true sun in his life. idk hinata would be so lame yet so cute like that :( and he always says it with such a big grin he’s so cute pls :( 

tendō; he’s so cute he’s so cute he’s so cute !!!!! your contact name is “my sunshine” definitely definitely definitely. he is literally in love with you and wants the whole world to know it. he loves screaming it out for everyone to hear but also absolutely adores like hugging you from behind and whispering in your ear as he kisses your cheek, “hey, sunshine.” :(((((

kenma; kenma doesn’t wanna think too hard on the whole nicknames thing but he also does kind of sort of really wants to call you something special and the first thing that pops in his head is sunshine. first time he used it you were Shocked but he was acting nonchalant about it (read: freaking out on the inside) and you were like “ok guess im sunshine now.” and you are his sunshine to this day. 

BABY/BABE ! — 

atsumu; it’s easy and it’s endearing!! he personally loves being called babe but he loves hugging you close to him after a long day and just sighing, “hey, baby,” like. he loves it okay. he thinks it’s perfect cause it fits and cause it’s like kinda traditional yk!! 

bokuto; he loves calling you baby cause he just cannot fathom that you’re his like he loves to always say it!!! and he loves how casual it is too like he can just call you that?? that’s so cool?? 

iwaizumi; again with the traditional but endearing and fitting. he doesn’t have to think too hard on it, but also it still means something and is more than just your name or a shorter version of it. also he sounds so hot calling you baby or babe idk i just know it. 

hanamaki; king of “babe! babe :( babeeee! babee. babe come on! babe! baby :(” you’re 99% sure he’s just provoking you at this point. like say babe one more time. but he actually loves resorting to baby, especially when you’re upset and he wants to be as endearing and kind as he can to you. 

daichi; very traditional too tbh. honestly when you two first started dating it was all he could think of saying without feeling awkward or feeling like he was trying too hard. later on when he started to feel more comfortable and more secure he got more creative. 

nishinoya; he has been waiting for this moment his whole life. the moment he can actually call someone his baby or babe. it’s his favorite and possibly only nickname (aside calling you pretty or gorgeous or handsome) and it will always be. 

MY LOVE ! —

akaashi; definitely definitely definitely calls you “my love” like i am 100% sure of this. akaashi is just so. he’s just so romantic but it’s also so unintentional? he says it because it feels natural and it feels right like you are his love after all, aren’t you? 

sakusa; he’s not one for elaborate nicknames honestly, and he feels like “my love” is the right balance of sweet, kind, fitting, and subtle and serene. it’s not doing too much but it’s also doing more than enough yk? also people that look like they would wear a trench coat/blazer and a turtleneck beneath also look like they would use the term “my love” hence sakusa and akaashi. 

tendō; i am telling you guys he is a simp. the loveliest simp ever. he says it so sweetly too like it genuinely makes your tummy twist and heart backflip when you hear him say it cause you can hear how genuine he is in his words oh my god. 

kita; he just !!! he is just husband material okay!!! he is so endearing and he says it in the softest most genuine voice ever and it’s literally his go to because yes you are his love you’re his entire world!!! he loves you!! he wants you to know it every time he calls out to you!! 

BUNNY/PUPPY ! —

bokuto; ARE YOU KIDDING ME. HE LOVES IT. he. loves it. he just finds it so cute and like. he loves the way he associates it with you now. prefers puppy over bunny but like. he loves both. he adores both. 

matsukawa; calls you bunny all the time. not more than doll, but it’s definitely so common. he won’t use it around others not because it’s embarrassing but more because he kinda wants it to be just a thing between the two of you, honestly. 

kenma; IT SLIPPED ONCE AND HE WAS LIKE. A DEER CAUGHT IN THE HEADLIGHTS. he calls you bunny!! sometimes, not always. when he wants something from you mostly. “pass me the water.” “no.” “bunny please :(” it works like magic every time. 

oikawa; oh my god can you imagine??? he loves it so much because one, he thinks it’s such a cute nickname props to whoever decided let’s use pets as literal pet names, but also two, he thinks nothing describes you or fits you better. you are just his bunny :( his puppy :( he loves you :( 

kageyama; timeskip kageyama calls you puppy. i have nothing more to say.

hinata; timeskip hinata calls you puppy. again, i shall say no more. 

suna; hello !!! he loves to call you bunny and/or puppy. the feel of satisfaction he gets when he calls you that like ,,, he feels like you’re properly his yk? yk.

KITTEN ! — 

kuroo; this one is for him and only him. 

LOVELY ! — (maybe sweetheart too) 

osamu; is there anything more beautiful than a tired osamu snuggling up to yoi and with a deep gravely voice saying, “missed you, lovely,” ? no there is not. it’s his favorite nickname for you, and he uses it all the time!! kisses your forehead as he leaves and tells you, “have a good day, lovely,” and comes back home and says, “hiya, lovely,” and tilts his head when you wanna talk to him about something like, “what’s up lovely?” cause you are his lovely, you’re his loveliest. 

sugawara; i have no other explanation other than i can picture it perfectly. he thinks it’s the best choice of a pet name he’s ever chosen and thought of. and he loves the smile on your face whenever he says it, he thinks it’s the sweetest thing ever <3 

BAE ! —

hanamaki; is it a joke? is it not? both. 

okay im sure i missed so many boys but i can’t think of any rn bc it’s like. hella late :( but i wanted to put something out for you guys!! point is, if i didnt mention a boy and you want to know, send me an ask!! and if i didn’t mention a nickname and you want to know that too? send me an ask well!! ill be happy to answer it <3 

love u all mwah <3 

[beels-burger-babe]

A Little Voice Told Me - Pt. 3

Poly! MC Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don't measure up? Part 1: HERE, Part 2: HERE Previously on A Little Voice Told Me...

The brothers had thought of a number of ways you could've reacted to them confronting you. Lucifer thought that perhaps you would snap at them and distance yourself further. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo expected a few small tears followed by a cuddle session. Satan imagined a slightly more dramatic telling, like something from one of his novels, that ended him being your hero and massacring all those who dared speak ill about you. Beel thought perhaps you could talk over a bunch of comfort foods that allowed you to remain calm and feel safe. Belphie had hoped that perhaps you hadn't believed what you overheard, and the two of you could laugh at how idiotic even the idea of them not loving you was. But you, breaking down into tears, sobbing the words "I'm sorry" over and over again? None of them had expected, nor were prepared, for that. Any anger or tension that the boys previously had was instantly replaced with worry about your well-being.

Asmodeus was the first to reach you. He quickly pulled you against him and held you as tightly as he could. "Easy now, dear. It's okay," he glanced up to look at his brother anxiously standing around the two of you, itching to comfort you but unsure as to what they should do. You trembled in Asmo's arms and fisted his shirt in your hands, no doubt wrinkling the expensive fabric. "They were right, were-weren't they?" you pulled away just enough to look up at Asmo. The poor man nearly choked on the remorse that filled him at the sight of your tear-filled eyes pooling with sadness, despair, and, most disturbingly, acceptance. "Y-You guys are breaking up with me? You-You finally realized you could d-do better than a-a-a-" you tried to continue but became too overwhelmed with emotion as you began sobbing once more. Satan rushed forward and placed a hand on your shoulder. "MC, hold on. We're not breaking up with you." You hiccupped as the others began to crowd around you. "B-But Asmo said you guys wanted to talk and I-I thought that maybe th-those other demons were right and y-you guys didn't want me anymore." With those words alone, you had shattered the hearts of every person in that room. In seconds, you found yourself in the middle of a group hug.

No one said anything. They simply wrapped you up in their arms and supported you as wept. Although they had been seconds away from tearing into each other moments before, none of that mattered if you were hurt. You would forever be their first priority. "Beloved, we love you exactly the way you are," Lucifer whispered softly as one of his hands caressed your back. "Whatever those simpletons said, they're wrong. They don't know you; just like they don't know us." Belphie was running a hand through their hair, hoping that his influence would help calm you a little. "If we could, you know that we would tear apart every person who ever spoke badly against you," he could feel his anger towards the idiots that caused this build-up again inside him. Satan nudged Belphegor's side and gently shook his head. The youngest demon sighed and rested his head on top of yours. "Even we aren't strong enough to control city gossip. We can't change what they think, necessarily, but we can make sure that you know that it's not true." You trembled in their arms as your cries slowly dwindled down to the occasional sniffle. "Th-They said that you guys were only dating me o-out of pity and that I was nothing compared to you, a-and how I was jus-just a nuisance," you whimpered as you recalled the hurtful words. "A-And I know that's not true. It was so stupid because I know you g-guys love me. B-But it made me r-realize just how insignificant I am compared to a-all of you. I d-don't understand wh-why all of you would settle for a human who won't live nearly as long as you, and w-who can't even use magic." Mammon frowned deeply as he squeezed one of your shoulders. "Treasure, look at me," you shakily did as told. Mammon was staring down at you with a desperate, anxious expression. His eyes found yours and your breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze. "Those assholes don't know what they're talkin' about. You're not insignificant. Even here in the Devildom, surrounded by all these different beings, you are so much higher above them. You're the brightest jewel among us MC. You're the only person to have ever formed pacts with all seven of the Lords of the Devildom. You're the ambassador of the human world. You have brought this family closer together in just over a year than anyone has managed in the centuries that we've been alive." Your lip quivered as Levi rubbed your arm. "He's right. I'm the literal embodiment of envy. I can tell you right now that all those people are just saying those things because they're jealous. They're nothing but low-level slimes. But you? You're the big boss that could have them destroyed with a snap of your fingers." Beel looked down at you guiltily as he patted your back. "I shouldn't have left you alone like I did. Even more so, I should've paid closer attention to what was happening around us. I'm sorry you ever had to go through this MC." You released Asmodeus to hug Beelzebub as you snuggled close to him. "It's not your fault, Beel. They were really careful about it when you were around. You couldn't have known," the redhead didn't say anything, he just bent down to envelop you in his arms. The eight of you stood there in the dining room, nestled closely with one other, taking silent comfort in one another without a single care for the world around you. "I think perhaps we should move this to the living room," Asmodeus offered as the boys began to release you from their hug. "Beel can make some snacks, Levi can find us a good movie to watch, Belphie can go gather a bunch of blankets and pillows and the rest of us will stay with you to make sure you don't get too lonely," he cupped your face. "I think a nice lazy day in would be good for everyone. Does that sound good, Beautiful?" I chuckled tearfully and leaned into Asmo's touch. "That sounds perfect. You guys are so nice to me. I don't deserve-" You never got to finish your sentence as Asmodeus captured your lips with his own. With that one kiss, you could feel your worries and doubts melt away as you could feel every ounce of affection,

desire,

and love that Asmodeus felt for you pour into your very being. "That's where you're wrong, dear," he purred softly against your lips. "It is us who don't deserve you," he gave you a gentle kiss on the forehead before taking your hand into your own and leading you to the living room. He looked over his shoulder and smirked at his brothers. "Go gather the things. We'll just keep the couch warm while you're at it," you could hear the wink in his tone. "Oi! I want a kiss too!" "Y-Yeah, Asmo! You can't hog MC! That's not fair!" You giggled at Mammon and Levi's protest as you snuggled up to Asmodeus. You were so silly to think for even a second that these demons who follow you around like love-sick puppies would ever tire of you for a second. You were their everything, and they were yours, and nothing anyone said would ever change that.

***And scene! That was a wild ride, but I hope you all enjoyed it! Thank you for supporting me with this mini-series and thanks once again to @ang3lsblues for the request that inspired it all!***

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Time For Bed (Lucifer x GN!Reader) FLUFF

Random Lucifer fluff! I write about going to sleep way too much considering I barely get any sleep myself. Holy shit I think I'm projecting onto the characters. WHOOPS!

Anywhooooo

Word Count : 1.7K

Warnings : Nothing. Just fluff and soft tired Lucifer

How long had you been laying in bed waiting for him to come up to see you? A few minutes? Hours? You turned to look at the clock on the nightstand, rolling your eyes as another minute ticked by. “Dammit, Lucifer…” You groaned, kicking the blankets off as you got out of the bed. He was probably still working on some shit that Lord Diavolo had made him do, or he was passed out at his desk. Either way, he was overworking himself and you hated that he did it so often. There wasn’t a moment that the two of you could be alone, whether he was working in his office or dealing with his brothers, there was never a time where you could actually be together.

“Lucifer…” You mumbled his name as you tapped your knuckles against the wooden door of his office, letting your head rest against it as you waited for him to respond. You weren’t even tired when you had gone up to the room, but just waiting for him made you sleepy, and the thought of how much work he had to do made you exhausted. You could only imagine how he felt having to actually do it, and he deserved a break, or at least a comfortable bed to actually fall asleep in. “Come up to bed, please.” Your hand slid down the door and landed on the doorknob, still waiting for him to answer, or literally say anything or even mumble… just a noise.

“Work… have to work…” He grumbled from behind the door and you could hear the lack of emotion in his voice. The man was beyond tired, beyond exhausted, and he was still pushing himself to keep going. It wasn’t okay, and if you weren’t terrified of the repercussions, you’d have a word with Diavolo about making Lucifer do his work for him. “Go to bed, dear… I’ll be up soon…” Which you knew was bullshit. It was already two in the morning, and he woke up early too, the least he could do is try to get a little bit of sleep and rest his head on an actual pillow instead of a stack of papers.

You sighed loudly outside the door, mentally telling yourself that you wouldn’t leave without him. He wouldn’t leave the office though, not with you standing outside of the door, so you quickly pushed it open, crossing your arms as you finally took in the sight of him. His hair was disheveled and his eyelids were heavy. You could only imagine how many cups of coffee he had drank to stay up this late, and even though you knew nothing could actually happen to him, you still didn’t want him to get ill. “You can’t keep staying up like this. It’s not good for you.” You shut the door behind you before going over to his desk, shaking your head when you saw the full cup of black coffee right next to him. “You need sleep, Lucifer.”

He hummed quietly, but never dropped the pen from his fingers, scribbling across the papers in front of him and you weren’t even sure if he was actually writing legibly or if he was just making little squiggle lines at this point. Nothing made what he was doing worth it, and you weren’t just going to leave the office, not without him. You walked around the desk, grabbing his arm and giving it a light tug to try to get his attention. “Hmph… You don’t need to watch me. I’ll be up when I can.” He pulled his arm away, rolling his shoulders before going back to working on the paper in front of him.

“I’ll just stay here until you’re done, then.” You huffed loudly as you walked back around to one of the arm chairs across from his desk, flopping down in it and crossing your arms across your chest. Were you tired? Yes, but if he wasn’t going to get to bed, you weren’t either. It didn’t make any sense in the long run, and by the end of all of this, you’d both be exhausted because he was too prideful to say that you were right and actually leave, and you were too persistent to just give it up and let it go.

He finally looked up from his desk, tsking his tongue and staring at you as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re being ridiculous. What is both of us losing sleep going to do?” You weren’t actually sure what the answer to that question is because honestly, you both were just going to be extra tired by morning, and you knew that he already knew that, so there was no point in you saying it. So you shrugged, giving him a little smirk as if you knew something that he didn’t about your miraculous plan to pull an all-nighter with him, but he wasn’t a fool, and he wasn’t going to fall for whatever it was that you were doing. “Is there an actual reason that you need me right now?”

There were a lot of reasons you felt like you needed him right now, some of them didn’t actually include using the bed for its intended purpose, but you still needed him in the bed to do what you were thinking. The other reason was… well… you missed him. You missed being able to curl up into his chest and cocoon he and yourself in his blankets as you both dozed off. It seemed like it had been forever since you had done something like that with him, just having an intimate moment together in private, in silence. You were able to just enjoy… him… and being with him. It might not have been a lot to him, but it meant a lot to you. “I can’t sleep…” It wasn’t lying, because in a sense, you did find it harder to fall asleep without him in the bed with you, but it was also partially because you stayed up waiting for him every night even though he told you to get some sleep before he came up because it would be a while.

He let out a small chuckle, pushing his chair away from the desk as he got up, shaking his head. “You made this whole thing about me when it was you who couldn’t sleep. I think I have something for that…” Your eyes narrowed as you watched him walk to the bookshelf that lined the wall. What was he going to do? Was there a spell that would knock you out, or did he have a secret bottle of Z-Quil hidden in the pages of one of his books? That wasn’t the main thing though, what you couldn’t stop thinking about was how absolutely clueless he was, or at least, pretended to be. How could he not piece everything that you had said together? Maybe his brain was fried from working so much that he was unable to pick up the hints that you were dropping.

With a loud sigh, you got up from your own seat and walked over to him, grabbing his hand as he reached for a book. “I can’t sleep because you’re not there…” You didn’t actually want to put it so bluntly, it was kind of embarrassing to admit things like that, especially to him. You watched his face, waiting for his reaction, and as you watched him you could have sworn that you saw his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. His hand dropped as he turned to look at you completely, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the usual smile you’d receive for something like this, usually he’d be smug and smirk at you while giving a witty, subtle remark about how he knows just the way to help get you to sleep. This time was different though, and it was most likely due to him being so tired.

“What kind of demon would I be to deny my darling a good night's sleep?” The question kind of threw you off because in terms of demons… he’d be a pretty good one to make you not have a good night’s sleep, but you knew what he meant and you didn’t want to ruin the moment by being a smartass. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you lightly to bring you closer to him as he leaned in to rest his forehead against your own. “Let’s get some sleep. I guess we both need it.” You hummed quietly in response, and once his hands were dropped you reached out to grab one of his to lead him out of the office. If you turned your back on him and started walking by yourself, he’d probably go back to his desk and continue working, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

Both of your movements were slow, your feet practically dragged across the floor as you walked up the stairs to his room. The fact that neither of you fell or tripped up the stairs or ran into anything is shocking considering both of you could barely keep your eyes open. By the time you were in the room all you wanted to do was fall into the bed with him, cover up, and pass out. “Are you gonna-” You hadn’t had time to finish your question, which probably didn’t matter at the moment, but you knew it would be uncomfortable for him to fall asleep in what he was wearing, but apparently he didn’t care, or he was just too tired to care right then.

He fell face first onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. It didn’t take long for the soft sound of snoring to fill the room, and the sound of it made you smile to yourself. He was finally getting some decent sleep, and if anyone deserved it, it was him. You climbed into the bed next to him, pulling the covers up around you as your eyes started to fully close. You’d both get a good night’s sleep together, and that’s all you really wanted.

[nightfall-kachiniko]

can i make a request with aot girls + hange with a s/o who accidentally forgot about their anniversary?

LMAO YES-

AOT girls (+ Hanji) with a s/o who accidentally forgot about their anniversary

Paring: mikasa x reader, annie x reader, pieck x reader, hanji x reader

“Y/n?” She said as you were making breakfast for you two. “Yes love?” You responded back to her, flipping the eggs. “A-are uhm… are you.. mad… at me?” She questioned hesitantly. You chuckled a bit, “Honey what are you talking about? Of course I’m not mad at you why would I be!” You reassure her smiling back at your wife. “Then uh- why haven’t we talked about.. you know our plans yet..?” Mikasa asked you. “Plans?” You stopped moving around the bacon, thinking. “Wait we had plans?” You looked at her over your shoulder confused.

“Y/n.. are you serious?” Your wife looked side to side, and after realizing with a while of you staring that you had not a clue what she was talking about she finally spoke up, “Our anniversary dinner? Where would you like to go tonight?” She explained. “OUR ANNIVERSARY-?!” Almost flipping the pan over on yourself you exclaimed, “ITS TODAY?!” you looked over at her as she gave a small chuckle and crossed her arms. “Yes love, our third anniversary together, As I’m married together,” she giggled at your surprise.

“WAIT WHAT HOLD- HUH- STOP DROP ROLL- WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS TODAY-“ A blush rose upon your face in embarrassment. “Yes love,” Mikasa jokingly rolled her eyes at you coming over to you and kissing you, cupping your cheeks in her hands while staring at your shocked and nervous face. “I SWEAR TO THE WALLS ITS NEXT WEEK-“.

“That’s funny because the walls are no longer standing,” Mikasa remarked, teasing you.

“AHSTUDB TODAYS THE 8TH THOUGH WHAT DO YOU MEAN-“

“Today’s the 15th babe,” she kissed your forehead, ruffling your hair. “Oh- my- god-“

Sunlight shined in your face. Opening your eyes, you flipped over to your other side with a groan, sleepy and still tired. “You should start getting up babe, it’s almost twelve,” You heard your wife’s voice call out to you. “Mghh…. No…” you whined, “just a few more minutes,” the blonde sat at the vanity in front of the bed, she wore a lovely black dress that was a little bit longer than her knees.

Annie swiped on some lipgloss, smacking her lips together. “What are you getting dressed up for?” You asked her. Annie swung around in her chair and gave you a ‘wtf!?’ Look. “What the hell you mean ‘what am I getting ready for?’,” She mocked.

“Well you look really fancy and nice but why are you getting all dressed up? Especially at this day and hour..” you tucked the thick covers near your face, providing you with warmth. “Y/n are you fuckin’ serious,”

“Well yeah I mean I don’t get why you’re so dressed up you only do that on important days-“

“yeah like important days, LIKE OUR ANNIVERSARY!” she shouted and threw a plush bear at you, “Did you seriously forget!?”

“OWW WHAT THE- wait- ANNIVERSARY?!” You jolted up, eyes widened looking at the blonde. “yeah the fukin’ anniversary we have every year since we’ve been married!?” Annie said crossing her arms. “How the hell could you forget!” She scolded.

“NO IT’S THE 6TH TODAY OUR ANNIVERSARY’S THE 11TH’S!”

“DUMBASS IT IS THE 11TH-“ You both just stared at each other. “Oh my Gooddddd” Annie facepalmed. “Whatever I get to decide where we are eating now since you forgot,”

“BABY IM SO SORRY I THOUGHT IT WAS THE 6TH! I LOVE YOU!” You yelled at her as she slammed the door.

Pieck had been going all week. First with the many hours of training, next planning her little cousins birthday party, then having paperwork to sign and do as a person of the nine, and then babysit Friday, and even many more responsibilities she had to do. It was already Wednesday and she was burnt out so you decided this morning to make Pieck some breakfast in bed.

All week she had worked so hard and she deserves a little break, at least for today. ‘Hmm.. I’ll make Pieck an omelet wrap and pancakes, ’ you thought.

Grabbing all the ingredients, you started first making the egg, and adding in the cheese, ham, and cut up greens to the egg mixture. You cooked the omelet just the way she likes it and wrapped it up in a tortilla wrap.

You got started on the pancakes, adding in berries of sorts and flipping them to a golden brown. The day was calm and settling, so peaceful. You poured her a cup of iced coffee from the carton and then placed it on the tray along with the omelet wrap and pancakes.

(BRO I CANT EVEN WRITE COOKING- I SUCK THAT BAD AT IT 😭😭🔫)

You carried it upstairs and placed a little knock on the door before coming in. Your wife still laid asleep in bed, sleeping with her hair all messed up in her face, and her hands to her side. She truly looked like an angel.

“Peck~” you softly called out her name, placing the tray on the bed. “Love~”

Pieck moaned, exhaustingly. You softly pet the hair out of her face before waking her up with kisses. “Wake up dear,” you giggled as she tried moving her head away from your kissing parade. Your wife finally opened her eyes and stared at you. “Good morning baby~” you smiled at her, kissing her on the forehead. “Mmm… good morning..”

“Here you go love,” you handed her the tray full of food as she sat up. She smiled and giggled a bit wiping her eyes, adjusting to the light.

“That’s a sweet anniversary gift ,” she smiled before kissing your cheek. You smiled back at her only to just realize what she said, “wait, anniversary?”

She looked at you as she was placing a bit of the pancakes in her mouth, “huh? Yeah dear our anniversary, you remembered.. right?.. that’s why you made me breakfast?” She looked a bit confused. A blush or embarrassment rose up on your face, “WAIT ITS OUR ANNIVERSARY?!” You were shocked, looking at Pieck like you’d just seen a ghost. “Uh, yeah love hehe,” she chuckled, “you forgot?”

“NO NO I DIDNT FORGET I UHM- I-“

“It’s okay love,” Pieck giggled at your sight, “I almost forgot it myself! This weeks been way to busy,” she sighed. “PIECK BABY I AM SO SORRY I SWEAR TO YOU ILL MAKE IT UP TO YOU I PROMISE-“

“Love it’s okay!” Your wife laughed, “gosh I’m just happy we made it to three years,” she said jokingly. “I’m sorry really,” your eyes turned sad, “I thought today was the ninth I didn’t know it was the thirteenth,”

“It’s alright love, you can make it up to me by helping me finish this breakfast though!”

“HELLLOOOO MY (princess/prince/Royal)!” Your partner barged into your shared room, swinging open the curtains and blinds, making light come in through. “Ugh…. Hanji..” you groaned, “get the light out of my face…” you whined. “NO WAY!” She said, rummaging through your both’s closet. They then pulled out a lovely black dress. It had a glimmered diamond belt across the waist and a diamond rose at the belt.

(If you’re a male or don’t wear this type stuff, hanji pulled out a brown blazer that matches with their own, and an elegant watch with a chain necklace to go with it, along with the black pants and a black turtle neck to go under)

“Hanji… what are you doing..” you said, irradiated by all the noise. “Wake up! We are going to have the time of our lives out in town today!” She said, “Cant we do that tommorow…” you whined.

“UH- OH HELL NO- ITS OUR ANNIVERSARY AND WE’RE GOING IN TOWN!”

“Wait what-“ you said.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Hanji questioned. You sat up straight in bed, “IT’S TODAY!?” you grabbed your phone scrambled to see the date, “May 24th” it read. “HUH!?”

“Y/N YOU FORGOT!?”

“I THOUGHT- I-“ you stood there in silence, questioning your existence (LMAO ME)

Your partner laughed at you, “HAHAHAHAH Y/N YOUR FACE, OH MY WALLS THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER- HOW DID YOU FORGET AHHAHAHA,” The maniac laughed.

“But I-“

“HAHAHAHA ITS ALRIGHT BUBBABES WE’E JUST PARTYING TODAY,”

They cupped your cheeks that were bright red from embarrassment, looking you in the eye and smirking with a wink,

“But we’ll do more than party tonight,”

[duskholland]

The Box || Tom Holland

summary ↠ you feel a mysterious object in tom’s pocket... word count ↠ 4.2k. warnings ↠ mildly suggestive, but this is just some very easy domestic fluff :’) a/n ↠ this is a rewrite of a fic I wrote back in 2018! I sat down just to edit it, but I ended up adding 2.5k and changing most of it. lmao. it’s very cute though. very gentle. I was in a proper state after watching cherry, and working on this soothed my soul <3 hope you like it!

if you want to read the original version of this fic, you can find the link for it here <3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wake up to an empty bed and immediately get the suspicion that something is amiss. The sheets are pulled down, the duvet crumpled, and the mattress cool. As you draw your tired fingers over the space beside you, a soft pout finds your lips.

Tom’s away so often that he rarely skips out on the opportunity to cuddle you in the morning, and if he does, he’s always attentive in the way he pulls the duvet to your chin and tucks you in. He knows you hate to be cold, so he’d never usually jump out of bed so recklessly, leaving behind his uncovered side and your leg sticking out the duvet.

Perplexed, you yawn as you sit up. A quick glance at your phone confirms that it’s still early, and you find your confusion about your boyfriend’s disappearance quickly turning into concern. With a furrow to your brow, you slowly get out of bed, groaning softly as your tired limbs stretch and click. There’s an ache between your legs that makes you bite your lip, memories of the night before flittering through your mind like polaroids. You see flashes of a rose-tinted Tom, kissing up your thighs, panting into your shoulder, moaning sweet words of praise against your lips. He’d made you dinner, then laid you down, and you’d felt like the only person in the world as he’d cupped your cheeks and shown how much he loved you.

After pulling on a pair of leggings and a jumper, you find your curious feet taking you off in the direction of the living room. You hear Tom before you see him—the sounds of socks dragging over plush carpet filling the air. He’s pacing, half-naked, thick arms crossed over his bare chest as a few fingers stroke his chin. He’s in a thick pair of fuzzy purple socks, and rounding off the ensemble are some simple grey sweats.

When your boyfriend reaches the other side of the living room, he pivots and starts to walk back towards you, gaze vacant and fixed on the floor. There’s a tenseness to his jaw that you haven’t seen in a while, the valley between his brows pronounced and deep. Stress is obvious in every single part of his person, and it makes you so concerned that you decide to shatter his reverie.

With a gentle clear of your throat, you step forwards.

“Tom?” you say, voice soft. Your eyes widen as he startles, head snapping up, loose brown curls springing through the air. “Baby, are you okay?”

He blinks at you for a few moments, seeming to shake off the daydream as his lips pull into an instinctive smile. When he meets your eyes, the nerves on Tom’s face start to melt. He gives you a tight nod as he walks towards you, folding into your outstretched arms and immediately burying his face in the crook of your neck.  

“I’m fine,” he vibrates, voice dark and husky like it always is in the morning. “Are you?”

You cup the back of his head with your palm, dragging your fingers through his curls in a way that soothes him. He’s so warm, his arms strong as they wind around your waist and hold you in a tight hug. Your heart beats a little faster at his question. He’s always been so attentive, even in times like these where it’s clear that he’s significantly worse off than you.

“I’m okay,” you respond. You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he releases a quiet sound of approval, snuggling closer. “You weren’t there when I woke up.” You pause for a few moments, hesitating. “Is something wrong? Is this about last night?”

You know that Tom loves you. He shows you every single day that he adores you. He leaves your special mug out by the kettle, brings home your favourite snacks from the shops, does your dreaded household tasks unprompted. He looks after you when you’re ill, has all the names of your extended family memorised, and always does his best to coax a smile onto your face. His love for you is as obvious as the stars that twinkle in the sky.

Yet, he left you alone, and he’s stressed, and even as you’re voicing your concerns, you can feel him tug himself free from your embrace. It’s hard not to focus on the loosening of his arms and think about his odd behaviour from the last few days. Tom’s been on his phone more, acting scatter-brained and nervous. You don’t doubt his love, but with his life as hectic as it is, you worry about him.

“Last night?” Tom says. He pulls back, warm hands falling to your waist as he peers at you, shaking his head. “Darling.” He frowns. “Last night was amazing.” His lips pull into a slight smirk as he squeezes your hips, eyes glinting a shade darker. “I had fun. Didn’t you?”

You press a light kiss to his cheek, shifting both of your hands to cup his face. His skin is so soft beneath your fingertips. “I had a nice time,” you agree, pushing back the memories before you can get too lost in them. “You’ve been stressed recently,” you observe, treading gently. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

Tom closes his eyes, inhaling a quick breath. “Yeah... I know. I… Yeah. I’m fine.”

You play with a few strands of his hair, trying not to frown too much. “Are you sure?”

He pries open an eye, the honeyed hues of brown bringing you a sense of comfort. “I’m a little stressed at the moment. I have to do something today, and I… I’ve been thinking about it a lot, love… A lot.” He breaks into a breathless chuckle, swallowing nervously. “It’ll be fine. I know it will, but I… I can’t stop thinking about it.” Tom’s gaze shadows a little, and he swallows. “You do… You do love me, don’t you?”

“You have to know how much of a silly question that is.”

Tom bites at his lip as he sheepishly averts his gaze. “Yeah…” He’s sly as he gently pushes forwards to kiss your cheek. “‘Know you really loved me last night,” he rasps into your ear.

You roll your eyes, but you’re glad to see there’s some colour coming back to his cheeks. “What are you doing that’s got you so nervous?”

“Oh… Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Tom looks a little perkier now as he glances at you. “Nothing,” he repeats. “Well, a secret,” he clarifies. “I can’t tell you yet.”

Immediately you pout. “But why?” you whine, pulling your hands away from his face. “You can’t say all that and then not tell me what you’re doing.”

“Yes, I can.” He grins as he steps back, only leaving you once he’s kissed your lips. He hesitates for a moment before adding, “I love you. So much, darling.”

“I know,” you respond, tilting your head to the side as you look at him curiously. “I love you too.”

“Good. Good…” Tom steps back, briefly glancing behind you to the living room wall. His eyes widen as he looks at the clock. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I need to go.”

Tom runs away before you have a chance to catch him, stumbling back into the bedroom as he mutters something about finding some clothes. You decide to leave him to it, a yawn reminding you of how early it still is. You wonder for a moment why he hadn’t mentioned he had an early call time last night, but he’s been so all over the place recently that it doesn’t surprise you.

As you wait for Tom to re-emerge, you walk over into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle. You can hear him whistling to himself through all the open doors, and the melody mixes with the sound of your teaspoon bumping against the ceramic of your mug. It’s your favourite one—Tom had brought it back from Paris for you.

You’ve just settled at the kitchen table when Tom bursts back into the room, properly clothed and considerably more at ease. His hair is a little wild, but he’s in a pair of jeans and a lilac hoodie, and he wears his smile with confidence.

“Did I tell you that you look gorgeous this morning, darling?” Tom murmurs. He springs across to you, grabbing his keys from the bowl on the counter as he goes. When he reaches you, he tightly cups your cheeks and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Because you are, y’know? The most beautiful woman in the world.”

You chuckle as you sit back in your chair, cheeks aching from your dopey smile. “Thank you,” you respond. “You’re looking very handsome yourself.”

Tom pulls on his jacket and then reaches down, stealing your mug of tea and taking a long sip before you have time to warn him about how hot it still is. You watch as he splutters, cheeks burning red as he releases a yelp of pain.

“Fucking hell!” he yells, cursing a little more as he puts the mug back down. Tom sticks out his tongue, tenderly reaching up to poke at the tip as he winces. “Ow,” he whines, the word garbled around his open mouth. “It hurts.”

He looks very sweet standing there, and for a moment, you wonder how it’s possible to love someone so much. Your affections smother your chest, and you almost choke up as you’re briefly overcome with a sensation of utter adoration. It’s so intense that it almost hurts, but it aches in the most wonderful way.

You stand quickly and press a soft kiss to the tip of Tom’s tongue. He smiles and retracts it, chasing after your lips until he’s able to kiss you.

“It’s Harrison’s birthday party tonight,” Tom says as he steps back, shoving his phone into his pocket. “I’ll be back from set at 9, then we can go. Is that still okay?”

You nod. “Yeah,” you reply. “Have a good day doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

He smirks elusively, then presses a final peck to your cheek before turning towards the porch. “Bye!” Tom pauses in the doorway to look back and send you a few air kisses, and you pucker your lips and send a couple back. The front door closes with a gentle click, and your smile lingers on.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You think about Tom’s behaviour all day, flipping between confusion and adoration as easily as the wind changes its mind. When 5pm rolls around, you find your way back home, and you spend a few hours milling around before you get ready for the event.

With your dress on and your bag slung over your shoulder, you wait in the porch for Tom to pull up, scrolling through your phone with a crease between your brows. Time is ticking, and with every second your boyfriend fails to show, the nearer you get to being late for the party.

When there’s a bright burst of light and the crunching of gravel, you glance up to see Tom’s headlights douse the driveway to your house. You’re surprised when he clambers from the car instead of jauntily honking the horn as he’s taken such an irritating liking to doing. You watch him mess around with his jeans before hurrying along the front path, pushing open the front door a moment later and startling when he sees you waiting.

“Oh!” he exclaims wide-eyed. His hand drifts down to rest over the left pocket of his jeans. “You’re here?”

You pull a face. “Yes? Hello to you too.”

Tom grunts as he moves forward to kiss you hastily, jumping back when you try to pull at his waist and bring him nearer. As you’re left baffled by his behaviour again, he seems to swallow down a lump in his throat.

“Hi,” he corrects, smiling nervously. “I, uh… I’m going to go and change.”

You wince. “We don’t have time,” you point out, reaching out to gently tug on his sleeve. You turn around, reaching back to pluck one of Tom’s stylish jackets from a peg. You offer it to him with a smile. “Try this,” you suggest. “We really need to go, though, Tom. Haz won’t let us live it down if we’re late to another one of his parties.”

Tom hesitates. You watch as he digs his hand into his left pocket, clucking his tongue. “I… Yeah. Okay. You’re right.” His eyes flutter back to the main body of your house, but his reluctance fades when you nod and peck him on the cheek. He easily pulls off his hoodie before replacing it with the jacket, the red of the smart coat complementing his black t-shirt.

“C’mon,” you urge. “Do you want me to drive?”

He begrudgingly follows you out of the house, locking up behind you both before slipping into the passenger seat. As you navigate the roads, Tom keeps you company, nurturing a constant dialogue as he chats to you. He avoids all of your questions about his day and his mysterious engagement, redirecting everything you say into a comment about you and your activities. It’s cute how much he cares, but you get a distinct feeling that he’s trying to distract you.

Harrison’s birthday party is being held in a bar in central London, and you find him easily amongst the throes of people. Tom’s holding onto your hand, standing back, quieter, as you pass over your gift to his best friend with a smile on your face.

“Happy birthday, Haz!” you exclaim, beaming at the man. Harrison kisses your cheek as he grins, cheeks flushed from the booze and warm atmosphere. When Tom is noticeably quiet beside you, you squeeze his hand and glance back at him, raising a brow.

“Oh,” Tom mutters, blinking a few times. “Sorry,” he adds. “Happy birthday, Harrison.”

Harrison rolls his eyes. “‘S alright, mate. You already passed on your congratulations earlier. Thanks, though.”

Your friend is pulled away by his sister a few moments later, leaving you with a confused furrow to your brow. You turn around to look at Tom, tilting your head to the side.

“Wait, when did you see Harrison?” you ask. “Weren’t you at work today?”

Tom reels you in by the hands, knocking his lips up against yours and disrupting your words. “Doesn’t matter,” he soothes, rolling his fingers gently across the sides of your face. “Let’s just have a good party, yeah?”

You melt into him with ease. “Okay,” you agree. His lips are warm and seductive as he kisses you again, deeper, harder, stronger.

Something is in the air. As a pair, you make a few rounds of the party, but somehow, you always end up huddled in a back corner together. As the alcohol flows and your friends around you get less and less observant, it happens more often. It isn’t long until Tom’s tugging you down onto a secluded armchair in the corner of the artsy bar. Your lips find home in his, slotting together as they always do.

As you shift in his lap, part of you feels guilty for blowing off Harrison’s birthday, but another part—a darker, hungrier part—demands you stay exactly where you are. You’re awfully comfortable with Tom’s hands on your hips and your legs spread over his thighs, content with the shadowy lighting leaving you secluded from the rest of them.

“Oh god,” Tom moans, speaking against your lips as he kisses you between laboured breaths. “Fuckin’ perfect woman, eh?”

You suck on his lower lip, smirking as you feel him whine. He discreetly grinds up into you, and you bite back a whimper. “Tom,” you whisper. You move your mouth to his ear, stroking your fingers through his curls as you brush your lips over his tender skin. “We shouldn’t do this here. We can’t go home just yet.”

He groans, head dropping down to your collarbones. When you expect him to agree and help you up, Tom instead seems to decide that his time would be better spent marking up your neck. Your pulse roars through your ears as he takes time licking and sucking and biting your skin, stretching from the base of your neck all the way up, up, up, soft lips suckling below your ear. By the time he reaches your face, you’re squirming, heat pounding in your body as desire replaces any wish to stay at the party.

“We should just go home,” Tom pants, lips red and inflamed. Your fingers drag over them until he uses his tongue to lick over the pad of your thumb. “I can’t take being here.” His voice drops down to a low grumble as he shifts in the chair, “‘m so hard, sweetheart.”

Wanting to feel for yourself, you shuffle up his lap, eyebrows furrowing together when instead of feeling his hardness, your knee knocks against something firm lodged where his pocket is. Confusion replaces lust as you tilt your head to the side. “Wait, what’s that?” you muse, unable to believe that his arousal has manifested itself in his jean pocket. Intrigued, you poke the object, pressing harder as your brows furrow.

Tom’s eyes widen. “O-Oh, no, that’s something else.” His hands go down to your waist as he tries to gently push you off his lap. “Just ignore it.”

But your curiosity has been piqued, and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached up and dug your fingers into his tight jean pocket. It’s dim and dark in your secluded corner, and you find yourself squinting as you bring the small object closer. Too focused on your task to hear Tom’s noises of panic, you pull it up into the air. As the first dredges of realisation wash over you, you’ve got it half-open, and it’s too late to stop yourself.

There is a glistening engagement ring embedded inside the silky black box, glinting magnificently.

Your jaw drops.

A few moments pass in silence, the air between you being filled by the songs coming from the bar. Your thumb wanders absently over the edge of the jewel as you peer at it, heart throbbing in the back of your throat. Guilt twists into you, mixing with your excitement and your shock, and you look up at Tom, tears pooling in your eyes.

He’s looking at you, nerves written all over his face. His teeth are bared, and his eyes are wide with shock, every inch of him seized up and tense. When Tom sees your tearful expression, he blinks a few times, clearing his throat as he tenderly reaches up to cup your face in a hand.

“Darling…” he starts, voice softer than before. He drums his index finger over your temple as he manages a tense smile. “What’s going on up here?”

You open and shut your mouth a few times before finally finding the words.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, voice thick. “I…” You take a breath, looking away. Your mind starts to spin, suddenly kicking back to life as you recover yourself. “Wait… Why have you got this in your pocket? Did… Oh. Did you get this today?”

Everything makes sense. His nerves all week, his pacing this morning. The fact he’d left suspiciously early and met up with Harrison without you. Tom’s conflict when you’d pushed him out the door instead of letting him enter your house and stash the little black box before leaving for the party.

“Yeah,” he admits, running a hand through his hair. His chest is rising and falling quickly, his jaw still tense. “What do you think? Do… Do you like it?”

You nod wordlessly before looking up at him, lower lip wobbling. “I ruined it,” you lament. You fall forward, groaning as you rest your forehead on Tom’s shoulder. He chuckles, dusting the top of your head with light kisses as he hums.

“You didn’t,” he assures you. “I’m just a twat and didn’t hide it properly.” He falls silent for a few moments, warm hands wandering your back. “Y/N, darling… You… You would want to get married though, yeah?” His voice is light and high-pitched and full of so much uncertainty it makes you bolt upright.

“Tom,” you say, voice soft. You balance the box between you and reach up to take his face in your hands, admiring his handsome features with your fingers. “I would love to marry you,” you whisper. You feel yourself well with emotions again, but you let them build. You don’t mind if he sees you vulnerable.  

Tom releases a deep breath, his own face twitching as relief ripples across his eyes in the form of light tears. He leans closer and kisses you very gently, his mouth soft and tender as if he’s savouring it. When Tom pulls away, he keeps his forehead pressed to yours, the tip of his nose cool against yours.

“I love you so much,” he says slowly. “Every day, I wake up beside you, and I wonder what I did right to deserve being loved by someone as wonderful as you. I hate being away from you, and I think about you all the time.” Tom cracks a soft smile, his voice quivering. With trembling fingers, he reaches between you both and picks the box from between you both.

You gasp softly as he pulls back, squeezing your hip softly before holding the box out in front of you. The diamonds sparkle, blurred by your tears.

“Y/N… I didn’t plan to do this tonight, and I know this is sudden, and I know you deserve a proposal a thousand times more romantic than… than at Harrison’s fucking party, but I can’t wait another moment.” He swallows as he pulls the ring from the bed of silk. Tom’s gaze is unwavering as he looks back to you, speaking passionately. “There’s nothing else I want in life apart from you. I promise that I will love you for the rest of my life, darling, if only you’ll let me. So…” Tom’s lips pull into a small smile. “Would you do me the honour of marrying me?”

The world stops, and everything fades until it’s just you and Tom and the ring held between you. Without hesitation, you nod your head, two stray tears dripping down your face.

“Tom… You could ask me to marry you anywhere, and I’d say the same thing.” Your heart pounds in your ears. “Yes. I would love to be your wife.”

Tom releases a strangled sound of relief, and you both look down as he hurries to push the ring down your finger. It’s cool against your skin, but before looking at it, you find yourself leaning in to kiss him. Both of you are smiling, and you think he’s crying too. His hand shakes as he holds yours, and when you pull away to admire the ring, Tom loops both arms around your waist.

“It’s so pretty,” you muse. You roll your thumb across the glittering gem. You feel so warm inside your chest. “Did you pick this out yourself?”

Tom makes a noise of disagreement. He cuddles in closer, burying his face in your neck and leaving a few soft kisses to your skin.

“Haz helped, and so did mum. Thought she’d have better ideas than him.” Tom pauses, and you feel him smirk against your neck. “I was right.”

Your heart softens a little at the revelation. “Do you think he’ll be upset that we’ve upstaged him at his party?”

Tom peels back from your neck, pressing his lips to your jaw as he chuckles. “Let’s...maybe not mention it tonight.”

You run your hand through his hair, eyes catching on the way the diamond cascades with shards of light. “Okay,” you agree. You lean closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Are you sure you’re not mad I ruined this?”

Tom shakes his head. “Absolutely not, love. If anything, this just makes it more special.” He shoots you a toothy grin. “Don’t know what I’ll do with all the stuff I bought to use in the proposal, though.”

You smirk softly. “Well, who says you can’t do two proposals?” you say, intending for it to be a tease, only to widen your eyes when Tom’s entire face lights up. “Wait— babe, I was kidding, you don’t need to do another—”

“Shhh.” Tom cuts you off with a kiss. “Pretend that this conversation never happened.”  

“What, even the proposal—”

“No.” He’s grinning, eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re marrying me.”

Your lips twitch as you give him a slight nod. “Yeah. And you’re marrying me.” Tom kisses you again, and you fall back into his lap with ease. For a few moments, you make out with him, the temperature in your body rising until you remember what started off the conversation, an eternity ago. “Can we go home now, Tom?”

He’s a little slow to respond as he chases your lips, but the smile you share feels like dawn breaking for the first time.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’ll take you home, fiancé.”

And you like the sound of that. You really like the sound of that.

“Okay, fiancé.”

Judging by the unstoppable grin that finds Tom’s face as he hears you speak, you have a feeling that he likes the sound of it too.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

:’))) im going to be rewriting/reworking a few of my older fics! if there are any in particular you’d like to see refreshed, lmk? 

lmk what you thiiiiink !!! <3<3<3<3

masterlist + taglist through the link in my bio wahey :D

[drabbles-mc]

Sick Day

Nestor Oceteva x F!Reader

Request by @nessamc​: I saw a picture of Coco wrapped in a blanket and immediately thought of a request idea for Nestor instead of Coco. Can I get a fic where Nestor is sick and is being a big baby about it, so reader has to take care of him?

Warnings: Nestor being a big baby

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: It’s one of my personal fave HCs about Nestor that he’s a total baby when he’s sick. Totally one of those guys who swears he isn’t sick until he’s lowkey dying and then proceeds to be a baby about it. Love that for him.

General Mayans Taglist: @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @kelpies-shed @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @garbinge @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @holl2712 @lakamaa12 @masterlistforimagines @kkim120 @toni9 @shadow-of-wonder @crowfootwrites @redpoodlern @punkgoddess-98 @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @mrsstevenbuchananstark​ @lovebishoplosamiguelgalindo​ @amorestevens​ @angelreyesisdaddy04​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @bellisperennis0​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @thanossexual​ @xeniarocks​ @choochoo284​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ (If you want to be added just let me know!)

For a few days, you’d noticed that it seemed like Nestor was starting to come down with something. You’d tried to tell him that he should get a little extra rest, take some vitamins, and just overall keep an eye on himself so it wouldn’t get worse. He waved you off, assuring you that it was nothing, that he never got sick, that if it was anything it was just allergies. You knew that he was a man too stubborn to win that kind of argument against, so you let him do as he pleased. He’d make his own bed, and he’d have to lay in it.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping on your coffee as you scrolled on your phone. You’d gotten out of bed before Nestor, which was incredibly unusual. You figured it meant that all his denial was finally catching up to him, and that whatever was ailing him started to really wear him down. The house was almost silent, so when you heard the shuffling of fabric and the scuffling of feet, you smiled as you kept your attention on the little screen in your hands.

Nestor cleared his throat as he walked into the kitchen, and you knew that he was passively trying to get your attention. Determined not to feed into it, you spoke to him without turning to look at him, “Coffee’s already made if you want some.”

You could hear him sniffling as he paced throughout the kitchen. When you heard the sound of him opening the cupboard, you chanced a look back over your shoulder to see what kind of shape he was in. Immediately you found yourself pressing your lips together in a lame attempt not to smile. Nestor’s hair was down, a big curly mess the way it always got first thing in the morning. You could only see the ends, though, because he had a blanket draped over the top of his head and wrapped around his shoulders like an ill-fitting robe, or the most ridiculous superhero cape you’d ever seen.

“Nes?” you sat there, waiting for him to turn and look at you. When he did, you could see it immediately on his face how he must’ve been feeling, “Oh, baby,” you stood up and walked over to him, gently cupping his face in your hands, “You need to go back to bed.”

“I’m good,” he sounded congested beyond belief—he didn’t even sound like your boyfriend anymore.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “No you’re not,” you pressed your hand to his forehead and shook your head, “Go back and lay down. I’ll pull some stuff together for you.”

“It’s fine,” he sniffled, “Once I have some coffee and shower I’ll be—”

You gave him a light push back towards the hall that lead to the bedroom, “Go back to bed. I’ll make you some tea, pull together some stuff that’ll help make it so you can breathe like a normal human again. You’ll be cured in no time.”

“I’m not that sick.”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded, “Sure you’re not. Now go lay down.”

You couldn’t quite make out the words he was grumbling as he walked away, but surely enough you could hear the receding sounds of his shuffling along the floor. Once you were fairly certain that he was back in bed, you began to grab everything you’d need for his tea.

When it was done, you stood in the bedroom doorway for a moment, his mug of tea cupped carefully in your hands. Nestor was completely wrapped up in the blanket on the bed, looking as small as you’d ever seen him. His head was rested on the pillow, comforter pulled up to his chin. His eyes were shut, breathing steady, but you could still tell that he wasn’t completely asleep. You leaned against the doorway and looked at him, and despite the fact that you hated seeing him sick, there was something wholesome about the sight of him bundled up in bed the way that he was.

Finally crossing the threshold, you made your way over to him. You set the mug on the bedside table before getting situated on the mattress next to him. Leaning back against the headboard, you stretched your legs out in front of you. Even in his sick, exhausted daze, Nestor realized what you were doing and immediately scooted himself over so that he could rest his head in your lap, draping one arm across your thighs. You let out a quiet chuckle as you carefully, lovingly, toyed with his hair. He let out a quiet grumble of contentment as you did, practically melting into your lap.

He let out a deep sigh that turned into him trying to hold back a cough. A small smile crossed your face as you gave his shoulder a gentle shake, “Sit up, Nes. The tea will help with that.”

He groaned but slowly he propped himself up, leaning back against the headboard the same way that you were. He pulled his legs up so that he was sitting cross-legged, blanket still somehow wrapped around his shoulders and draped over him. You smiled as you handed him the mug, watching as he carefully cupped it in his hands. He soaked up the warmth through the ceramic for a few moments before lifting it to his lips and taking a careful sip. His facial features quickly relaxed—clearly he was expecting the tea to taste disgusting since it was supposed to be helpful.

“Not too bad, right?” you asked quietly as you reached over and rested your hand on his knee.

He nodded, taking another sip, “It’s good.”

“Good,” you smiled as you pulled your phone out, “there’s more in the kitchen so I can get you more when you’re done.”

“I can get my own—”

“You need to rest. Let me take care of you for a couple days, will you?”

He let out a mumble of sorts but didn’t argue with you anymore. You chuckled quietly, loving the tired, grumpy man sitting beside you on the bed. Sitting back and letting himself be taken care of wasn’t something that he’d ever been good at, and now he wasn’t being given another option.

As the morning went by, Nestor had another cup of the tea you’d made, before promptly falling back to sleep. You soothingly pushed the hair back out of his face as he laid sprawled out on his stomach on the bed. Even though he filled the room with congested snores, you still adored everything about him.

When Nestor woke up again, he had no idea how long he’d been asleep for. His eyes weren’t completely open yet as he felt around the bed for you. When he realized that you weren’t there, he opened his eyes the rest of the way. Slowly pushing himself up, he took a breath and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He felt a little less exhausted thanks to the nap, but he still felt sick. He knew he wasn’t going to get better in the span of one morning but he still hoped.

Sniffling, he caught the faint scent of something. He assumed that to someone who wasn’t losing the ability to breathe through their nose, it probably smelled great. Whatever it was, was just enticing enough to get him to force himself out of bed, adorning his blanket cape once more. He knew that you were just going to tell him to get back to bed, but he wanted to see what you were up to without having to shout to you from the other end of the house.

You heard him as soon as he stepped out of the bedroom. Not even needing to turn around and face him, you spoke to him as he walked into the kitchen, “It’ll be ready in about ten minutes.”

“What’s it?” he asked as he loomed closer to you and the stove.

You chuckled, glancing over at him for a moment, “Family recipe. Surefire way to get you breathing like a functional human again,” you turned and looked over at him, unable to fight the urge to tenderly cup the side of his face in your palm, “You should be laying down.”

“I’ll lay on the couch,” he started shuffling towards the living room.

You smiled, shaking your head because you knew that was the best you were going to get from him for the time being. He was always clingier and needier than he let on, but when he wasn’t feeling well it intensified tenfold.

When you were done cooking and were bringing over bowls for each of you, Nestor was on the couch, half-dazed as he tried to focus on what he was watching on TV. Setting the bowls on the coffee table in front of you, you sat down and nudged Nestor to let him know that it was time to eat. You were surprised that he hadn’t fallen back to sleep yet, but you assumed that he would as soon as he was done eating.

He curled up with his bowl of soup, and you knew that realistically the last thing he wanted to be doing was eating, but he did it without a fight. The lack of argument was mostly due to the fact that he didn’t have the energy to try and win one against you, but he wasn’t ever going to cop to that.

Both of your bowls were empty, discarded back onto the coffee table. Nestor sat with his head resting against the back of the couch. His eyes were shut as he looked up at the ceiling. You were leaning back against the arm of the couch, legs bent in front of you as you half paid attention to the show that was on. Looking over to Nestor, you saw that he was on the brink of falling back to sleep again. That was fine, but you also knew that if he fell asleep like that, the pain in his neck when he woke up would be atrocious.

Gently nudging him with your foot, you got him to look at you. Offering him a soft smile, you motioned for him to come and lay with you, “C’mere.”

He shook his head as he shifted on the couch, “I don’t wanna get you sick.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head, “I’ll be fine. If I’m not sick now, I’ll be alright. Come lay with me,” you stretched out your legs and positioned yourself so that he could come and lay with you.

He hesitated for a moment, but the thought of being curled up with you while he felt the way he did was too tempting to turn down. With a light sigh, he shimmied his way down to your end of the couch. He positioned himself between your legs and laid his head against your chest. You adjusted the blanket so that it was comfortably draped over the both of you. His eyes drifted shut immediately as he mumbled out a semi-coherent, “I love you.”

Smiling, you pressed a kiss to the edge of his forehead, “I love you too.”

[dontworrysunflower]

You Make It Better | h.s.

warnings: DEPRESSION, i apologize if i do not portray it correctly, i wrote what i could figure out from the internet. if this triggers you PLEASE DO NOT READ OR READ WITH CAUTION, nudity (? idk they shower together), very cheesy sorry

a/n: this is something i wish i had rn because even thought i’m not diagnosed and definitely think am depressed so ig that is where this came from. please, if you ever need someone to talk to, my messages are always open and i have no life so i’ll answer as soon as i can, asks (anonymous too) are always open. also i’m bad at endings so excuse that. (and writing his accent but we’ll ignore that)

word count: 2.9k

feedbacks/reblogs appreciated

masterlist

It was a late Saturday morning when you realized it was going to be a really hard day with your depression. You had woken up earlier than Harry, which was very rare. His arm was tucked between your neck and the pillow, hand laying softly on your arm, your head just below the right swallow tattoo on his chest, the inked butterfly on his stomach stretching with every even breath he took in his sleep.

It wasn’t much longer until he eventually woke up, his fingers suddenly grazing your arm as he fully opened his eyes to look at you. He lets out a guttural groan, stretching his legs under the blanket.

“G’mornin’ lovie,” he said groggily, voice rough as he bends down to press a light kiss to your hair. You don’t move, only your nail lightly scratching his side. His face scrunches up in confusion, and you knew if you were to look up at him you would burst out in tears just from how cute he is. “(y/n)?” He asked, moving down on the bed to be face to face with you. “You okay, baby?” His nose nudged yours, but again, you don’t react. You don’t even look him in the eyes.

All you do is shrug to his question, a little hum falling past your lips.

Then it struck him, and you see the exact moment when it does. But his face doesn’t change to a sympathetic look, he doesn’t frown at you with a sorry look.

Instead, he gives you a small and sleepy smile and pushes a strand of your hair away from your face. He scoots closer to you, moving you to sit on his lap, his boxers laying low on his hips, his inked fern leaves peeking through.

“Another one of those days?” He asked quietly as he moved to put his head right next to yours, his eyes looking up at you.

“Yeah.” You mumble, reaching over to grab the pendant of his necklace, rubbing the green cross with your soft finger.

“How bad?”

You continue to drag your finger over his cross pendant, eyes fixated his chest hairs. You sigh heavily before parting to answer. “Nine.”

“Hmm.” He kissed your forehead. “What made it a little betta’?”

You finally looked up at him, his emerald eyes still had a glassy look, still not fully awake. You’re hesitate to speak, your mouth opening and closing, thinking whether or not you should say what’s on your mind.

Very early in your relationship, you told Harry that it was hard for you to open up to people. You told him your illness made you feel like a burden towards everyone you know, you told him that there may be days where you wouldn’t want to see him because you’d feel like you're getting in the way.

But unlike the other people you’ve been with, he understood and was patient with you. And even though there were days that got really bad, he stayed by your side.

“You can talk to me, baby.” Harry took your hand that was holding his pendant, his finger grazing the skin of your thumb.

Your lips slightly quirk up, but not enough to really show that you were happy. But he could see it.

“You make it better.” You maneuver your hand that was in his to now hold his hand, bringing it closer to your chest and play with his ringless fingers.

When he doesn’t say anything, you look up at him worriedly, scared you’ve said the wrong thing.

But when you do, his face was the definition of happy. He was smiling so wide, his dimples were showing. There was a light hue on his cheeks, bringing his face to life.

You wish you could be that happy right now.

He brought you closer to his chest and pressed his lips to your matted hair. “Wanna just stay in bed all day?” You nod against his chest. “Whatever you want, love.” His arms tightened around you, bringing you impossibly closer, giving you a silent message of I’m here for you.

“Do you want something to eat? Some tea, maybe?” He asked sweetly as he started to pull away, his feet hitting the wooden flooring on your shared bedroom.

You looked up at him, hesitating to answer, but his fingers scratch your scalp in encouragement, his green eyes looking down at you sweetly. “Could-” you hesitate. “Could I just have some tea, please? Peppermint, if we have any.”

He nodded, bending down to press to place a kiss to your nose. “Anything to eat?”

You shake your head and bring the duvet to your face.

Before he can get too far, you grab his hand, getting his attention as he starts to walk away. “What’s up, baby?”

“Can I have a kiss?” you asked shyly, afraid he’ll reject you.

Instead of answering, he just leans down to peck your lips, but you hold his jaw and keep his close.

You give him one last peck before you pull away slightly, lips bruised to a pink color, faces still close.

You peck him one last time then back away, bringing the duvet to your chin.

“Don’t be too long.” You mumble.

He chuckled and kissed your head before walking out of the room.

•••

He comes back a couple minutes later, two mugs in his hands, a banana in between his lips.

You sit up against the headboard, the duvet just under your stomach that’s covered in one of Harry's old striped shirts.

“Thank you.” You mumble as you take the pastel orange mug from Harry’s hand.

You both sit quiet as you sip at your hot beverage, Harry offering you a bite of his banana after a while, but you decline.

Harry takes your empty cup and leaves it on his side table, the banana peel hanging from the rim of his mug.

“Do you wanna do anything?” He asked beside you, taking your hand in his.

“Ca-” You hesitate, scared he’ll say no or you feel like you're being selfish for what you're about to ask. “Can we just cuddle?” You asked with a pout, looking down at your lap.

He lets out a little giggle, getting under the white duvet. “I’d never say no to your cuddles.”

He pulls you close to his chest, the hair on his legs tickling your silky ones. His tattooed arm comes to lay over your stomach.

After a while, your eyes begin to sting, your sight becoming blurry, tears falling down your cheeks.

Harry seems to feel your salty tears fall on his chest. He plays with the ends of your hair and then rubs your arm. “Let it out, baby.”

Your shoulders shake as you sob, uncontrollable tears falling down your cheeks.

Harry held you tighter as you hiccuped, breath evening, eyes shutting as you fall asleep.

•••

When you woke up, the room was drastically darker. Harry’s side lamp was the only source of light.

Harry’s torso was against the headboard, one hand tangled in your hair, the other holding up a book as his eyes scan every word on the page.

When you shuffle under his touch, he closes his book and lays it by his side. “Hi.” He leans down to kiss your head, his hand now by your waist, playing with the hem of your (his) shirt you’re wearing that has risen up.

“What were you reading?” you asked meekly after you yawn, moving your arm across his fern tattoos.

“Love is a mixtape.”

“You love that book.” Your head moves up and down with his chest as he laughs. “Can you read some to me?”

“Sure, baby.”

•••

He had read a chapter or two when you realized, a small gasp leaving your lips. “Weren’t you supposed to go to the studio today?” You held up your weight against your arm, your hand digging into the mattress under you.

Your face scrunched up in guilt, your mind racing with the thought of getting in the way of Harry’s music, never wanting to be the reason he stopped working.

He just hums and and folders the corner of the page he was on before closing the book and leaving it on his side table. “I called Jeff when I was making the tea that I wasn’t going to make it today.”

“But why? You were excited to-”

“No one that matters, baby. There was no way I would’ve left you here by yourself.”

“I would’ve been fi-”

“No, you wouldn’t have and you know it.” His voice changed completely, more firm and stern than how he was talking earlier today. “Baby,” he started, he shifted in his spot on the mattress, turning completely towards you, taking your hands in his. You’ve always loved when you held hands. Loved to feel the comparison in size from your to his and your thumb always grazed his cross tattoo. You always get butterflies when he touches you, and that hasn’t changed since the beginning of your relationship that felt like so long ago.

“It’s okay to not be okay. I know it’s a struggle and everyday I wish I could take this pain from you, but I can’t. The best I can do is be there for you and hold you. And you may feel like you don’t deserve it, but you do. You deserve happiness and more. You may feel like every little thing you do bothers me and others but you don’t. I love you with my entire being, (y/n), and I’m surprised you haven’t gotten tired of me.”

You scoff through foggy eyes, but his dimples and freckles are still prominent in your vision.

“In the rare times that we’re not together and I’m with other people, the first thing people ask me is how you’re doing. Shit, I even get asked about you in interviews and fans I meet on the street ask about you.”

You’re full on sobbing now, his pretty words too much to handle, an overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude and happiness filling your chest.

“You’re not a burden, baby.” He said softly as he pulled you into his lap, his rough fingertips sipping the salty tears from under your eyes. “Say it, please.”

You take in a shaky breath, but an even, firm breath comes out, the ache in your chest a lot lighter, less painful. You lick your chapped lips before speaking, “I’m not a burden.”

His lips press to your temple, the warm skin. You both cry, holding each other tighter than what you thought was possible. You nuzzle your face into his neck, breathing his warmth and scent.

He sighs and gingerly kisses your forehead, his finger twirling the ends of your hair.

“Wanna go take a shower?” Harry asked, your legs tangled with his under the comforter. “We can watch a movie or something after, yeah?” He pushed back the stray hairs that had fallen out of your ponytail, the tie loosening its grip on your hair as you moved around the bed throughout the day.

“Yeah.” you mumble, eyes droopy again, energy slowly fading as the sun faded from the sky.

“C’mon, baby.” He wiggles away from you, standing on the side of the bed, his hand out for you to grab.

You move the duvet off you, goosebumps forming on your exposed legs and arms because you were only wearing one of Harry’s old shirts.

He takes your hand as you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, your feet softly landing on the wooden flooring of your bedroom.

Harry raises your intertwined hands and tenderly pressed his lips to the back of your hand, his dimples smile forming when he sees a blush form on your cheeks. “C’mon, love.” He leads you towards the bathroom, quickly turning on the light.

You walk behind him as he makes his way further in, opening the glass door of the shower to turn on the water, letting it get warm before he turns around to you.

He lifts his own shirt up, exposing his tattooed chest. “You too, love.” He chuckled at you as you just stood there in front of him.

He drops his shirt before tugging at the hem of yours, his eyes looking into yours for approval. You give him a small nod before he brings it up your torso.

He helps you undress the rest of the way, which was quick because you only had your underwear left.

You stayed close as Harry quickly undressed. The butterfly on his stomach expanded as he took in a deep breath, his hand reaching towards you again to lead you to the spraying shower.

The foggy glass door springs open and Harry steps aside for you. “Ladies first.”

Harry’s hand leaves yours to lay it on your back as you step into the steaming shower.

•••

Harry just finished washing your hair, his fingers raking through your wet strands, his chin resting on top of your head. Your hands mindlessly run up and down his back, your cheek against the swallow tattoo on his chest.

His thumb rubs against the side of your face, catching your attention. You look up to his green eyes looking down at you already, his dimples lightly denting his cheeks. “You’re pretty.” He spoke softly, his eyes shifting around your face.

You sheepishly look down at his chest, lightly tracing the butterfly tattoo on his stomach.

He chuckles at your shyness and kisses your forehead. Even though you can’t see it, he looks at you like you hung the moon, he looks at you like a goddess even though you have demons on your shoulders. “Which one’s your favorite?” He whispered in your ear before pressing his lips to it.

You hummed as you leaned back, Harry’s hands on your hips still keeping you close. Your eyes scanned his body, your mind at battle.

You suddenly lift yourself up on your toes, holding on to his shoulders for leverage as you look at the tattoos that cross over, inching close to his back muscles.

“The little guitar doodle, thing.” You said before you unknowingly let out a little giggle, you finger lightly grazing the darkened skin.

“There’s that laugh.” He spoke softly, a small grin widening on his face. His emerald eyes shining in adoration. “I missed it.” His fingers curl the ends of your hair. Your hands move to his face, delicately holding his gorgeous face against yours.

“I love you. Thank you.” You said quietly, tears fogging your sight.

He shakes his head without hesitation, wet curls falling between you. “Nothing to thank me for.” He lifted his head to press a hard kiss on your nose, making a small giggle leave your lips. “There’s that beautiful sound again.” He roughly kissed under your eye, your giggles getting louder. He pecks the corner of your lips before migrating slightly to nip at your pink lips.

Your shoulders relax as you sigh into the kiss, your fingers lightly grazing the skin on Harry's shoulder, his around your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

The warm water cascades behind you, flowing through your hair and falling down to your feet.

He slowly pulls away, so slow that it seemed like he didn’t really want to pull away. Wet strands of his hair fall into his face, your fingers quickly leaving his shoulder to rake them back. “Wanna finish up and get to bed?” He asked quietly, his chipped fingernails faintly grazing the skin of your hip.

You nod, backing up as Harry moved closer to turn off the water behind you. The steamy glass door opens with a pop, Harry’s feet stepping onto the white floor mat to grab towels hanging on the wall. He quickly wraps one around his waist, droplets of water descending down his inked frame, some falling down from his hair onto his shoulder.

You slowly step out of the shower beside Harry, grabbing the towel from his hands and unfolding it to dry your hair and body before wrapping it around yourself.

“Do you want one of my shirts, love?” He asked as he walked out to the bathroom (still completely wet with a water trail behind him) to his dresser, looking through his casual wardrobe.

“If it’s okay with you.” You stayed in the bathroom, watching him move around the bedroom.

“Of course, lovie. That’s why I offered.” He comes in front of you to hand you some clothes, just a pair of his boxers and his old ‘Hot n Hard’ shirt. “Always want you in my clothes. He pecks your nose and pulls away, a small dimple piercing his cheek as he smirked. “Also like you with no clothes.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and pushed at his shoulder, shaking your head at him.

By the time you slid on the shirt he gave you, he was leaning against the doorframe, pink boxers hanging loosely under the fern tattoos. “Can I help with your skincare?” He asked shyly, his cheeks turning the same color as his boxers.

You don’t hesitate to nod, stepping farther into the bathroom to let him in.

He pats the counter, his other hand going to your back. “Sit for me, baby.”

You jumped onto the counter, silently watching him as he gathered your different products, you had too many to count (and didn’t need).

You sat quietly as you watched his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out of his lips. His rough fingers gingerly patting stuff on your face, laughing at your whines when he was dragging down your face instead of smoothing up. “It’ll give me wrinkles!” You groaned.

So now he’ll do the same with his skin.

What? He doesn’t want wrinkles either.

•••

yay!!!

@chillingonlife @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @letsgoparty-ah-ah-ah-yeah @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack (i know some of you probably only meant the instagram things but i hope this is okay)

(lmk if you want to be added/taken off taglist)

[forsworned]

me again! (when ain’t it me?) how about modern au! sanemi working with his crush on a project in college? you’re free to make it however u want? like he could be at her house or jus … idk at a library date ION KNOW U CHOOSE??? once again a pic as compensation:

my homescreen:D

a/n: WHEN U FINALLY REQUEST SOMETHING NORMAL THIS ONE IS JUST FOR U MAAM SO I HOPE U LIKE IT I PUT MY HEART SOUL AND ARTHRITIS INTO THIS SO PLS ENJOY ALSO THANK U FOR THAT THIRST TRAP VIEWERS ENJOY IT WHILE U CAN

word count 1.2k

warnings: none

Sanemi wasn't one for projects especially when it came to the ones where he had to work with others. He absolutely loathed being social outside of his tight knit group because who needed more friends when he had all the ones he already needed. Currently, he was in the reserved room that he booked at your college's library waiting for you to arrive. You were already 10 minutes late and Sanemi had still had not heard from you.

He audibly sighed as he checked his phone to look at the time. His message notification lit up to see your name.

"Tch. You're late, [name]." He muttered to himself as he leaned his chin on his palm unlocking his phone to see what you had to say.

hey i know im late but ill b in there 2 minutes!! sorry!!!

He rolled his eyes as he set his phone and closed his eyes trying to ignore the impending headache while he rubbed his temples. Suddenly, he hears a rapping at the door and he opens his eyes to see you waving through the window with a bagged croissant in your mouth and what looked like two cups of coffee and possibly more snacks.

He let out another sigh as he gets up to open the door for you.

"Hey, I'm sorry--"

"Save it. Just sit down so we can start." He deadpanned at you. You frowned as you slipped through the door and placed all your purchases down in between you and took a seat opposite from him.

"So grumpy." You mused as you opened the plastic with your teeth.

"This is why you were late?" He stood over you with the same glare that was always on his face. You almost found it cute if it hadn't been directed at you.

"What's wrong with getting snacks and coffee? We're going to be here for some time." You retorted crossing your arms.

"Whatever. Let's just start." His cheeks were practically puffed in annoyance at your tardiness and you had to stifle a laugh. He looked cute when he was frustrated.

He opened his notebook to look over at his history note's and was already barking commands at what you were going to do. Only a small sigh escaped your lips as you went along with what he was saying to avoid further conflict. You liked it much better when his mouth was shut. He looked much prettier that way. You watched as he reached for the untouched cup of coffee that was still in its holder.

"So, you did want coffee." You teased, scribbling into your notebook. He gave you an irritated look that you could only tell by looking into your peripheral.

"Can't a man enjoy his coffee in peace." He grumbled back as he took a sip.

"Not when you complain about it being the reason why I'm late, no."

"You're annoying."

"So are you."

He dropped his writing hand for a moment to look at you. "Look, I just wanna get this done and be on my way. There's no need for this unnecessary back and forth."

"There's also no need for your unnecessary brashness, but here we are." You smiled at him as you twirling your pen in your hand.

Not that he would ever admit it, but Sanemi thought you were as infuriating as you were cute. He would definitely find himself staring at you as you would apply chapstick or lip gloss during class when he really should be paying attention to the ongoing history lectures. How you would make little sighs as you got tired during class. And how he would catch you almost passing out which was super endearing because he'd imagine you slumping your weight onto his shoulder.

He doesn't seem to realize how long he's been staring at you or the fact that his cheeks are now a rosy pink.

"Hey, are you running a fever?" You reached out to feel his forehead, but he smacked it away.

"N-no, I'm fine. Do your work." He muttered as he buried his head into his laptop whilst avoiding all eye contact.

And you did just that, except you'd glance at him every other moment only to see him in his same position. You felt a little disappointed. Not that you didn't mind when he was quiet, but you enjoyed the banter you two had from time to time. It would usually be during class discussions or when you were about to start class, and every now and then when you'd catch him with his friend group. All of them very warm and welcoming, a striking contrast to the grumpy and mean Sanemi.

"Hey," You poked his head with the top of your pen but he didn't budge. You leaned a little closer and poked his head some more until his hand clamped over your own halting your ministrations.

"Cut it," He lifted his head to face you with an angry expression but he was met with your visage a tad too close to his own. "out..."

The familiar rush of heat meeting the apple of cheeks and the loud pumping of his heart that throbbed into his eardrums was almost distracting enough. But your stupid, cute face was the cause for all his distress in the first place. He didn't know whether to kiss you or grumble his usually banter at you, so instead he did the next best thing his brain could comprehend. Sit there in silence while he ogled you with wide purple hues, making you extremely uncomfortable.

You couldn't help but notice how pretty Sanemi was upclose or how his warm breath was fanning against your face. Your eyes moved to his lips and how they were slightly parted much like your own. You hadn't notice how you tilted your head to meet your lips with his until his deep voice rattled you.

"What do you think you're doing?" Was the question he posed, but it didn't exactly shake you out of your trance.

"Looking at your lips." You replied nonchalantly. Your eyes fluttered to his own and then back down to his mouth.

"Why."

"Because I want to kiss you."

He gulped dryily as his scrunched in confusion. He really couldn't decipher if he was dreaming or not.

"Then do it already." He grumbled back in what seemed like annoyance but Sanemi could no longer keep up his facade. Your lips finally reached his and he felt a rush of relief consume him. The softness of your mouth was like petals on a rose and smell of your hair engulfing his senses. Honey? No, almond ,maybe? What did that matter now that he was kissing you?

His body sitting up right holding your face to keep your lips latched onto his. He was melting into you not wanting the moment to end, but you pulled away too soon. A sly smirk on your face as you peered down at him, but he didn't bother with whatever smart-ass thing that was going to come out of your mouth.

"Yes, I like you, so you can save your breath. I don't wanna hear it." He said coolly. His hands now in your hair, gently urging you back to his lips. All thoughts of the project were tossed out the window and you didn't mind the slightest.