#<- whether that means sitting him down to lay out how you've been feeling. whether that means breaking up with him. etc etc.

[tea-and-secrets]

boyfriend and i have been dating for eight years. he is autistic and i have bpd. he doesn't love me. he never says he loves me unless i say it first, never initiates physical touch or any type of conversation, never asks me out on dates or buys or makes me gifts. I do all of these things for him. i feel like he's only still with me because he's worried i'll kill myself if he leaves, but no matter how much i reassure him that i want him to be happy and if there's *anything* he wants to talk about to not hesitate to ask he won't break up with me. he'll go weeks without remembering to talk to me but he just wont break up with me. every time i leave his house i drive home sobbing. i don't know what to do.

.

[coffeetintedlipstick]

ultraviolence - tommy miller

summary: you've been secretly sleeping with tommy (your stepfather's brother) for a while and he gets mad at you when you accidentally slip up in front of joel and risk him finding out about your secret

CONTAINS: SMUTTT, tommy is angry and lowkey mean, PinV, oral, fingering, clothed sex, manhandling, angry/rough sex, face slapping, age difference, size difference, crying/dacryphilia, verbal humiliation, degrading kink, praise kink, teasing, terms: "atta girl", "little girl"

full ver on ao3!! this is just the smut part <3

“It was just a slip up, Tommy, I-” You suddenly get cut off by his hand firmly grabbing your jaw, causing you to gasp as he turns your head up to look him in the eyes. You’ve never made Tommy mad like this before and it’s incredibly intimidating.

“If I get in trouble because of your fucking attitude, I swear to god,” He threatens, his voice degrading. His tone makes the gears in your head turn and you don’t know whether you should feel scared or turned on. You clench your thighs together, your bottom lip quivering.

“I’m gonna make sure you promise me you’re not gonna tell your daddy about this, alright?” He says. The sudden implications of his words make you nervous yet eager as you watch one of his hands reach down to undo his belt. Your mouth waters but you stay quiet, already unsure of how badly he’s going to rough you up and not wanting to increase your chances of him leaving marks you won’t be able to hide. You panic a little more when you remember you don’t have any condoms in your room, but your brain dismisses the thought when Tommy sits next to you on your bed. He pushes down his boxers, his already stiff cock springing free from his pants. You get on all fours next to him, dipping your head down as he grabs a fistful of your hair. You try to start slow and lick the tip of his cock experimentally before he clenches your hair in his fist just tight enough to hurt.

“Ah, ah,” He scolds you like he would scold a dog for misbehaving. “You don’t get to take your time with this today. I’m not going easy on you.”

You take a second to process it before giving him a shy nod. You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and he pushes your head down mercilessly. You moan around his girth, tears stinging at your eyes as he lets you come back up. You try and take all of his length again, relaxing your throat now and bobbing your head up and down, eager to please him.

“Atta girl,” He praises, holding onto your hair and guiding your movements. “Tastes good, doesn’t it?” He grins at you devilishly, taking pride in your desperate attempts to impress him. You can only let out muffled whimpers around his cock, a few small tears trickling down your face. He uses his free hand to reach under you, sliding his fingers under your shorts and teasing at your wet folds.

“You’re soaked already,” He says with a chuckle, slipping two fingers into you and pumping them in and out of you painfully slowly. “You’re so fucking small, y’know that? You feel tight even just around my fingers, sweetheart,” He pulls your hair back, yanking your mouth off of his dick abruptly. You try to catch your breath, panting softly and trying to recover from how roughly he had fucked your mouth. He stands up from the bed, grabbing you by your waist and pushing you down onto your back. His hands run over your shoulders and chest, groping at you through the shirt you took from him. He finds it endearing that you wear his clothes and wonders if it’s something you get off on.

“It’s been a while since I gave you a proper fuck, huh?” He says, grabbing your thighs and pulling you forward slightly so you’re pressed up against his hips, laying down displayed in front of him. “My poor little girl.” He teases with a soft laugh, bringing his hand down to your throat.

“Gonna give it to you rougher than you’ve ever had it,” He almost warns you, leaning down to make eye contact with you. “Think you can handle that?” You immediately nod, not entirely out of honesty. It’s rather just your very strong desire to please Tommy. What he says goes, no questions asked. Tommy puts two fingers in you again, curling them inside you and making you squirm. He’s torturing you by making you wait.

“Tommy, please…” You whimper.

“Please what?”

“I need it,”

“Use your words,” He clearly finds your agony entertaining because he starts moving his fingers more slowly and his grip around your throat tightens.

“Need your cock, Tommy,” You whine, gripping onto the sheets of your bed, wrinkling them under your grasp. Tommy decides that you’ve said enough and drags his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them up to his mouth and licking off the slick coating his digits. Your face grows even more red at the sight of it. He rubs the tip of his cock against your wet folds a few times before starting to slide himself into you, holding onto your hips tightly to keep you in place while he presses inch by agonizing inch into you. Even after taking it almost a dozen times, his girth still surprises you. He lets out a low, guttural groan as he manages to fit the whole thing inside of you, amused by how you clench around him in an attempt to cope with his almost intolerable size. Without any warning, he pulls out of you almost completely just to immediately slam back into you, his movements already harsh and aggressive. You let out a loud moan, causing his hand to tighten around your throat even more as he starts ruthlessly fucking you.

“Be fucking quiet,” he says in a low voice through heavy breaths. “You’re gonna get us caught.” You’re supposed to feel scared, but Tommy notices your walls tighten around him at his suggestion. He scoffs, letting go of your throat just for you to be met with a slap against the side of your face. You wince as you let out a surprised whimper, the stinging sensation lingering on your cheek. He’s never done that to you before but it’s making you start to see stars.

“Promise me you’re not gonna tell your daddy about this,” His tone is demanding, his movements getting even rougher. “Swear to me that you’re gonna keep your pretty little mouth shut.” You have to suppress a loud moan, giving him a desperate nod.

“I-I promise, Tommy,” You manage to say through small sobs. “I’ll be good, I swear.”

“And you’re gonna keep letting me fuck this pretty little cunt and not speak a word of it to anyone, right?” He growls. “Say: yes, Tommy.” He orders you.

“Y-yes, Tommy,” You whimper, your voice shaky as you pant harder. Tommy notices you getting louder and puts his palm over your mouth, holding it there insistently to cover your noises.

“I’m gonna cum in you and you’re gonna be a good little girl and keep your mouth sealed, okay?” His question is entirely rhetorical. It’s absolutely a demand rather than something he’s actually asking you. He slams his hips against you faster, his girth invading your small entrance every time he thrusts forward. You can feel him approaching his climax in the way he grips you and the noises emitting from him. His voice gets more primal, entirely motivated by pure lust and hunger.

“I’m so lucky,” Tommy pins you down to the mattress with a strong enough force to leave bruises. “Getting to fuck my brother’s cute little stepdaughter in his house while he’s in the other room, completely fuckin’ clueless.” He huffs out a small laugh. If his hand over your mouth wasn’t stopping you from making any noise, you’d probably be screaming in ecstasy. He lets out a few overstimulated gasps before he squeezes his eyes shut and you feel him finally shooting his load into you. You cum at the exact same time, and his hand slips off your mouth just in time for you to moan his name as you coat his dick with your cum. He presses into you deeply a few more times before collapsing onto your bed beside you, his arm wrapped around you.

“Fuck, Tommy…” You whisper under your breath, your voice raspy from how heavily you were breathing and how much you’re still sweating. He wearily pulls you closer, pressing you against his chest and pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. He lets out a small hum, holding you tight.

“You’re so good for me,” He murmurs warmly, his exhaustion obvious in his voice. “Love you so much."

[aurumalatus]

two.

a short series in which you share a multitude of kisses with childhood friends to lovers!kinich over your lifetime.

your bedroom feels overwhelmingly hot.

the a/c is on, you know because your curtains are billowing from the cool air pooling from the vent underneath them. summers are always this warm, when the humidity grows high and sweat sticks to your skin in layers.

kinich is laying on your bed, fanning himself with a stray magazine he had plucked from your nightstand. on days like these, it's too hot for you to even make the walk to the park down the street, or to the skatepark. you'd be drowning in sweat before you made it there, you're sure.

"so you've never kissed anyone?"

you don't even really remember how the conversation started. all you know is that the two of you had been talking about things you'd never done before, and you'd arrived at this. the girls in the locker room had been discussing it—their first kiss—including who it was with and what it was like.

the mere thought makes you gnaw at your lip, tension filling the room.

"...have you?" you reply, glancing over to your best friend. he doesn't seem nearly as bothered by the subject matter as you are.

"nope. i don't really care though," he sighs, which is so typical of him, you think. unlike you, kinich cares very little what the other kids in your grade think of him.

but you care, and you're starting to worry that you're falling behind in that...developmental area. you've managed to deflect any questions about the topic from the other girls in your class, but you fear that you won't be able to keep it up for long.

kinich sits up, shuffling forward on your bed to stare at where you sit on the ground. his gaze is inquisitive, and you suddenly feel very vulnerable.

"but let me guess," he starts, tossing his makeshift fan aside, "you care."

as always, he has you all figured out. after a moment of hesitation, you nod.

"i do. i know it's lame, but i feel like the other girls will think i'm..."

"a prude?"

you sigh. "something like that."

another moment passes before kinich is crawling off the bed, sitting cross-legged before you. his proximity makes the heat worse, but you don't hate it.

"alright," he shrugs, scooting closer. "then i'll kiss you, and you can tell everyone it was me."

you flinch in alarm, head knocking against the drawer of your wooden dresser. kinich's eyes widen, hands already outstretched toward you, but you interrupt him with your own spluttering.

"wh-what?! what are you talking about? you can't just do that!"

he tilts his head. "why not? is it because you're embarrassed for it to be me?"

"no!" you defend instantly. you'd never be embarrassed to be around kinich. "but...don't you want it to be with a girl you actually like?"

"i do like you."

you shake your head. you know what he means, but you were implying a different kind of like. still, the thought of sharing your first kiss with kinich isn't...awful. it's a bit comforting to share it with someone you trust, even moreso when you know that he hasn't done it before either.

finally, after thinking on it a bit more, you nod firmly.

"okay."

kinich raises a brow. "okay?"

and then he's leaning in, and you don't know whether to close your eyes or leave them open. you're trying to remember every teen romance movie you've ever watched after your mother went to bed, but your memory fails you. but he's already so close, and you rush forward a little too fast and—

your lips bump together clumsily, and you wince at the feeling. it's weird, certainly, and you're honestly not sure if you're doing it right at all. you can feel kinich's lashes brushing against your skin, and the feeling makes you shiver.

it's chaste, so brief that it's over before it even really registers in your mind that it happened. your mind is racing by the time kinich pulls away, and you find yourself meeting his eyes far too quickly.

his gaze is warm. "that okay?"

you nod, wondering what the blooming feeling in your chest could mean.

"yeah," you reply, swallowing thickly. "it was okay."

[bl00d-on-y0ur-h4nds]

𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of murder, toxic relationship, slight gore, some suggestiveness

HAVING A SERIAL KILLER FOR A BOYFRIEND IS ALREADY UNCONVENTIONAL, no matter how much Toby's eyes soften when he lays them on you or how he turns gentle when his hands touch your skin, the fact that they're used to tear away the life of someone else only moments before never leaves your mind. It often leaves you wondering how someone so brutal can be so soft with you, like an attack dog turning into a puppy once it's in the presence of it's master.

TOBY IS NOT EASY TO DEAL WITH, even if he is significantly different with you, that doesn't mean he changes completely. His mind is as cruel as a bear trap and his tongue is as sharp as a dagger, leading to him often speaking before thinking and hurting your feelings, even though you're the only thing that he can love in this rotten world. Even before he turned into the monster he is now, his mean words and vulgarities always got him into trouble no matter how much his mother washed his mouth with soap.

BUT LIKE A DOG he licks your wounds after he bites, eyes pleadingly staring at you and the same mouth used to spout the chaos in his mind being used to pour out the most desperate apologies. It's easy to assume it's a manipulation tactic, it wouldn't be far above him to use it if it meant getting what he wants (which is only you), But the cold calculation leaves his honey eyes the moment he realizes he messed up, instead welling them with passionate yearning for your attention and forgiveness.

AND HOW HE CRAVES YOUR ATTENTION, his body melting underneath you when you sit on his lap and pepper his face in kisses, a stupid smile on his face with your red lipstick marks all over it. Toby has always been beaten, rejected, outcasted; even when he tried to assimilate into society and survive long enough for those he used to love. It's not like being a killer made him all the more likable anyway, and true crime podcasts don't really count as positive attention. So when he finally receives that sweet affection, he can't help but cave under you and beg for more.

MAYBE YOU'RE THE CLOSEST THING HE HAS TO REDEMPTION, after all, you see him with eyes full of love and wanting, not interested in anyone else that isn't him; while others kick him to the curb like a mangy stray. Often times speaking to him like he's your best friend and you're boyfriend, giving him a taste of what a normal life could have been. Toby doesn't know what you see in him, or why you even gave him a chance after all of his cruelty, he wouldn't blame you for seeing him as a monstrous creature from the woods than a real person.

BUT IF HE'S A BETTER MAN IN YOUR EYES THAN HIS, despite everything he's done, then who is he to change your mind? You've had front row seats to his true nature, he's shown it to you through his bloodstained hands smearing crimson on your cheeks when he cradles them, he's shown it to you in the cruel jeers to those who hurt you and how he brings down his axe on them, tearing them limb from limb and turning them into human pudding, whether it's in front of you or not. He doesn't bother to hide his worst because you've seen his worst and choose him anyway, and something about that makes his heart flutter in way it's never had before.

YET HE'S ALSO SHOWN YOU HIS TRUE NATURE through soft kisses in the morning and picking you up bridal style to not dirty your shoes in a puddle (even though you can just walk around it). How he sometimes makes a joke without it involving dark humor, or how he tries to make food for you even if always ends up either undercooked or burnt, resorting to buying you takeout instead (don't ask where he got the money, just enjoy his gift). Not to mention how he comforts you, it feels so strange to have such a horrible man hold you in his arms and try his best to stop your tears, especially when he's caused you so many...

EVEN THROUGH HIS INTENSITY you still feel his love, especially through his eyes. Despite being a warm shade of brown, they feel like it pierces through your flesh and into your heart, stopping you like a deer in the headlights. They're trained on you like a cat chasing a mouse, even if it's admiring your face or chasing you through the forest during one of your escape attempts, it's like he doesn't have anything better to look at and if he does, it's only a task he has to do before returning his gaze to you. Even with his goggles on he still looks unnerving, just gazing at you from behind them.

AND WHAT HE DOESN'T SHOW WITH HIS EYES, he shows with his hands. They're always on you, resting on your hips, hugging you close to him from behind, cuddling you into him on his bed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, even hanging a finger on your back pocket. He doesn't care if they smear blood on you, if anything it makes you all the more beautiful in his eyes, tainted with him, dirtying you up so now you're all his...yeah he's got a bit of a corruption kink. But the point is that his hands are never far from you, he's the type to make you sit on his lap even though there's a seat right next to him, why do you want that uncomfortable chair when you have him? :D

LIKE YOU SEE HIS TRUE NATURE, HE MAKES YOU EXPOSE YOURS. Whether it be through his word making your face heat up or his hands making you feel things you've never felt before, stripping you of everything until you're bare to his eyes, he'll make you just as vulnerable to him as he is to you. In a way it's how he communicates his love to you, showing you the effect you have on him, and reveling in seeing him have the same on you.

THE FUNNIEST PART ABOUT THIS is that Toby is one hell of a liar, twisting the truth for his sick games and to reach his end goal, he loves causing a ruckus in the minds of those around him; and yet he crumbles with you. Something about you hits a soft spot that exposes the scared little boy desperate for love hidden underneath the broken man only focused on surviving another day. Is it the innocence in your eyes when you look up at him? The softness of your kisses against his calloused hands? Or your own wise words shooting painfully through his heart? He doesn't know, but he loves it.

TOBY DIDN'T BELIEVE IN SOULMATES before meeting you, in fact he thought love was a justification for the shit people do and don't want to admit, that true love only exists in fairy tales. But now he's attached to the hip to you, going after you like some lovesick dog, and having the both of you in a relationship where your minds work in tandem, only meant for each other.

BECAUSE HE MIGHT NOT BE CERTAIN ABOUT WHERE HE'S GOING AFTER HE DIES, but he sure as hell knows the lengths he's willing to go in order to make sure he's right next to you when he does.

[snapnov4]

i was made for lovin' you, baby!

synopsis: jjk men falling in love with you

wc: 1.7k

a/n: vela returns from a victorious (not intended) year long hiatus and very solemnly offers you the headcanons she's been desperately cooking up for way too long, enjoy <3 don't forget to reblog!

✰ kento doesn't even realize he's in love with you until he's making the two of you dinner. you're sprawled out on his couch, talking about your recent mission. the two of you aren't even dating. you just end up together at the end of every day. it all feels so intimate. as he listens to you talk, he notices he’s picking out the parts you don't like, setting them to the side. he remembers when he was a kid, and his mother told him food was a labor of love. he recalls that bakery he used to frequent when he was still working a regular job, how the smell of the bread and sweets was comforting, and how the girl who worked at the counter always had a fresh loaf for him. as he's sitting across from you at his dinner table that’s only big enough for two, he feels like his world is shifting on his axis a bit.

kento’s always enjoyed listening to you talk; much to gojo’s dismay, you're the only person nanami could listen to for hours. you're talking so vibrantly, moving your hands to illustrate actions, and he feels terrible about the fact that he can't hear anything you're saying. instead, he's thinking of the lunches you bring for him, the way your pinky touches his ever so slightly, like some silly school kids. he thinks of how you rest your head on his shoulder when you're stuck on a long commute from a mission; he thinks of your shoes by his at the door, a spare coat on his rack, an extra cursed tool in his closet. he thinks of your easy smiles and lively laughs. he thinks of how you easily fall against him no matter how you feel, whether it be a fit of uncontrollable laughter or a collapse after a long day. you're not dating; no one even thinks you're dating, but nanami’s heart practically swells when you seek him out through the day, placing a hand over his paperwork and telling him to take a break. he thinks of how you always kiss him on the cheek when you leave and always remember to text him that you've gotten home safely. if you're not so tired that you're sprawled on his couch with a blanket he's saved for you. he thinks about how, if he stayed working that awful job, he'd never have this, never have you, in your own unique way. he wasn't sure why he kept being a sorcerer; he just presumed that he’d work until he died. however, sitting across from you, talking animatedly about some shenanigan yuuji has wrapped you into, he feels content. it's almost like this could mean something; maybe his life is truly just a cycle, all leading to an uneventful death, but with you by his side, he thinks, it feels worth it.

✰ toji is not in love with you, or at least that's what he says. however, he realizes he may be that fond of you on a quiet evening. toji never expected to find himself so soft and domestic. he'd liked you because of your take-no-shit attitude; when he met you in some dark bar some months ago, watching you turn down every suitor who came your way, he accepted the challenge. he'd find you at least once a week, always in the same spot, and he's the only guy you let buy you drinks, the only one allowed to sling an arm around your shoulders. you made him wait for it. but now, months later, you let him wrap his arms around you without a word, and you're so quiet and calm, completely and utterly relaxed, and it's so good. toji’s hands are far from clean, he's far from the kind of upstanding guy he thinks you truly deserve, but you lay in his arms so easily, as if you couldn't care less what he's done. you drag your finger across his scars. you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth without recoiling at the feeling of scar tissue. you're almost too good to be true. he thinks of all the times you've patched him up, brows knitted in careful concentration, telling him, “this might sting,” even though he'd walked in practically unaffected by the injury in the first place. the way you forced him to tell you what he did for a living, and even though he didn't spare the gritty details, you still seemed not to care, as long as he was coming back safe. he's come to expect you to be standing at the door, sitting at the table, or lying on the couch when he gets home. right now, you're lying in his arms, completely unaware of just how much he loves you and loves this. your hand is in his, silently twiddling with his fingers as your eyes focus on whatever movie or tv show you've taken an interest in now. he decides he’ll leave it all behind for you. all of it. when he finishes this next job, he’ll buy a ring. then he’ll get a regular job, and finally, he’ll be happy.

✰ satoru realizes he's in love with you on a seemingly ordinary day. he's finished work for the day, or rather, for the last two days. he hasn't slept in three, and his head is starting to kill him, even with his reversed cursed technique. right now, he only wants to get home, eat something sweet, and collapse in bed. when he walks into his usually quiet and organized apartment, he realizes quite a few things. there's a bag of that mochi from that place in sendai that he loves, and a note beside it reads, “the kids and i picked these up for you!” he recognizes your handwriting, messily scrawled as if you were in a hurry. next, he notices that every blanket (except for his, he silently hopes) is spread across the floor in the living room, nestled in what seems like the coziest pile ever is you and the kids. megumi is on your left, and tsumiki is on your right. the three of you are sleeping so soundly that he almost wants to kill every higher-up for pulling him away from you, from this, from his family. as he looks at you nestled between megumi and tsumiki, he realizes that's exactly where he wants you to be.

the three of you have been knocked out for a while; your limbs tangled and blankets moved. after showering quickly, he finds out that his blanket was not exempt from the fort, but he doesn't even mind as he makes his way back to the living room, scooting in next to a sleeping megumi, and he watches for a bit. studies the way your chest rises and falls, the way you so easily let the kids relax against you, the way your mouth hangs open so hilariously that he wishes he'd snapped a photo while he was still up. he feels his heart swell immensely when he finally does lay down, and megumi nestles his face into his shoulder, and you feeling the sudden movement, throw your arm across him. satoru never thought he could feel this soft. the privilege of meaning something to you, to these kids, is better than any sorcerer grade, any title, anything. when he settles down, his arm so long he can reach all the way over the three of you. he recognizes the sock you're wearing. it's black and probably way too expensive; if he squints a bit, he can almost see the custom embroidered “GS” on every piece of clothing he owns (clan habits die hard). he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face. of course, you love him; you're wearing one of his socks.

✰ suguru isn't the kind of guy to be surprised by his own feelings. at least before you, he wasn't. however, he finds you surprise him every day; every little habit of yours implants itself in his brain. he could spend hours just watching you do the most mundane tasks, but when he truly realizes he's in love with you, it’s early one morning. he's sitting on his bed, watching you get ready at the vanity he bought just for you, half of it your makeup and the other half various products he puts in his hair. he feels infatuated with you. your entire routine is done with so much care and attention that he can't help it. he's been watching you get ready every morning for the better part of two months. but what really gets him is the way you've changed your routine to involve him. a small kiss to his lips every morning, setting your alarm earlier so you really can stay in bed for “five more minutes,” drinking your coffee at home because he makes it the best. always asking him, which shirt looks better? what color should I wear? rattling off all your daily tasks, turning to see suguru holding your keys, or your wallet, or your umbrella right as you begin to ask where it is. and most recently, indulging him by picking a vanity, after you complained about being tired of doing your makeup standing up in his bathroom and how the drawer you've been keeping your products in was starting to overflow. geto’s obsessed with watching you do your makeup, sitting behind you on the bed, quietly admiring the way your hand moves in practiced steady strokes. he loves the way you silently curse if you mess up your wing, he loves the way you still suck your cheeks in to do your blush, he loves the way you sit in front of the mirror silently debating on wearing your hair up or down or maybe a mix of both. he loves how you apply lip gloss, the last step of your routine. always the last step, because the goodbye kiss at the front door leaves more of it on him than on you. he watches with a soft smile and sticky lips as you reapply your gloss in the mirror in the entryway, smiling when you catch his eye in the mirror. laughs at the way you roll your eyes but don't stop him from pulling you back in the doorway, kissing you again because he “already misses you,” so finally, you add reapplying your lip gloss in the car to your morning routine, while suguru adds loving you to his, but that was already there, wasn't it?

[tojivu]

Megumi and reader after a two week separation because of megumis mission. He admits that he almost died to reader and talks about what happens after.

empty spaces ⋆ megumi fushiguro

an. argh sorry i got carried away LOL

cw. sfw, gn!reader, comfort + fluff

playing. bills by enhypen.

the bed's been useless these past few days.

it's as if the weeks have been drawn out, the universe adding new hours to each of the days so they're longer than they should be — that's what it's been feeling like.

you refuse to sleep in the master bedroom. the pillows next to your head smell too much like your boyfriend; hints of mint shampoo linger and enter your nose as you try to sleep, but ultimately fail to do so.

megumi's been gone for a bit now, and you haven't gotten much news, either. yaga's always talking about classified information and how 'the public shouldn't be concerned with jujutsu affairs' — anxiety pits in your stomach because why couldn't he just tell you whether your boyfriend was dead?

you try to distance yourself from places in the house that remind you of him, incase he's really gone this time; you believe it'll make things easier for you, but it feels as if someone's cutting away at the vessels closest to your heart whenever you imagine it — imagine megumi's body laying lifeless as they transport it back to tokyo.

megumi's never been gone for more than 3 days, especially on a mission. he's usually quick with it, coming home with a cut or two on the arms or face; it'll heal just fine, because he always asks you to take care of his wounds.

you usually sit on his lap as you bandage him up. he winces at the sting of the antiseptic, his fingers gripping harshly at your waist and then you'll tell him to sit still — he never listens, gets all grumbly with furrowed eyebrows — until you clean him up and put on the last bandaid, kiss him over the piece of clear film (and maybe an extra on the lips, if they aren't bleeding too); it's only then he finally shuts up.

you wonder how long you'll have to sit together on the kitchen island this time, if he comes home, that is — you don't think you'll mind the back and arm strain this time. you just want to see him.

"relax," gojo reassures over the phone. "he'll be back soon."

those words mean nothing to you. he's been gone for 14 days now, and he hasn't called — his location hasn't updated, either, you think he must've broken it during the fight or something.

a few sentences are exchanged between satoru and you, before your finger taps the red button at the bottom of your screen; unsatisfied doesn't, couldn't, describe your current thoughts — you were enraged that that was the only piece of information that was provided.

it takes a few hours for you to calm your thoughts. they make your head spin and heart sink, jump around like marbles on clean linoleum and deafen the shows you play on television.

you're watching megumi's favourite drama, which happens to be your favourite drama, too — he was the one who introduced it to you. you're seven episodes in when you hear the front door creak open; so loud that it reminds you to get the hinges replaced.

megumi was supposed to call the guy. it's clear you might have to ring him up yourself, now.

you wonder if it could be nobara. she didn't tag along with yuji or megumi, and you've been ignoring her calls for the past week or so — she must be here to give you a good lecture.

you hear faint groans and bags dropping to the floor, close to the entryway. you aren't greeted by a loud "[name]" as you usually would by nobara. a shiver travels down your spine, hairs on the back of your neck beginning to stand.

you throw the woven blanket off of your body and to the side of the couch — the socks on your feet lubricate your steps and you almost trip with how fast you make your way to the door.

"[name]," his voice calls, rasp voice barely reaching your ears. "i'm home."

megumi's lip is bloody, bandages wrapped over his right eye and around his head — his left arm and leg had some cuts, as well; but those seem to have scabbed already.

you want to call his name, but nothing comes out of your mouth; only a small whimper before your lover is wrapping his arms around your torso. "sorry i was gone for so long."

the pit in your stomach is gone now, almost instantaneously — instead, you begin to sob into megumi's jacket.

megumi feels the guilt but the comfort of having you in his hold overpowers it. if it didn't, he was sure he would be tearing up, too; he never liked seeing you cry.

"megs," you sniffle. "i thought you were—"

"i almost did," megumi cuts you off. he didn't want you to say those words, though he knows being a sorcerer had his fate sealed — but it didn't mean he wanted you to know that. "but i'm alright, see?"

megumi smiles down at you, as if it didn't hurt to move the muscles in his face: they stung like small needles, but he sees the relief wash over your face like a splash of cold water — so he thinks he can put up the act for a bit longer.

"you're all bloody," you mutter. "can i clean that for you?"

you point at his lip and he nods, wincing at your finger that tries to inspect the cut a little closer — it's a familiar feeling: your delicate fingers treating him like glass.

megumi's standing in front of you, and you're sitting on the kitchen island so you can actually reach his face. he lets you do your thing and he's fighting every urge to kiss your lips; he knows the cut will only get worse.

"i don't want you to go missing on me like that," you say. "never again."

"i won't," he assures, fingers toying with the hem of your shirt as you continue cleaning his cuts. "can't die yet."

"ever," you correct. "don't plan on dying, ever."

"i'm not immortal, [name]."

"that's not my problem to fix."

he smiles at your attitude — megumi might really have to figure out a way to become immortal now — freeze the cells that are dying in his body before his bones get too tired to move, stop the pigment in his hair from fading.

"okay." he breathes, hands finding their way around your waist — he taps your legs to open wider to let him fit between. " but you'll have to be immortal too, then."

"why?" you question. "i don't go around killing myself to chase curses."

"when you die, i'll be lonely," megumi explains. "need you to fill the empty space on the bed."

you laugh, trying to think of a witty comeback — you were still upset at your boyfriend for going MIA — but the look he's giving you makes it difficult not to give in.

"is that the only reason you're dating me?"

"maybe," he lies. "i didn't buy such a big bed for nothing. can't let it go to waste."

you gasp, too dramatic to be real — you put the gauze down and give him a stern look, and he lets a giggle slip through his lips before you get to nag him again.

"i'm just kidding, baby," megumi begins to kiss your frown away, pressing his blood stained lips to yours. "i love you for far more than that."

and it's just like that that you melt at megumi fushiguro's words — his red lips and blushed face making your heart skip more beats than humanly possible.

"whatever." you continue to feign anger, yet your arms are still wrapped around his neck. he knows your attitude will last for at least a week.

his lips hurt, and he thinks your hard work has gone to waste with the way he's peppering kisses all over your face.

your hands find his jaw and you lead him into an actual kiss, and you realise he tastes like antiseptic — a little blood in the mix, too — but you can't really complain.

"i'm serious."

you wonder if it's megumi who fills the void you have, or whether it's you who fills his. whether that be in the form of empty beds or an empty house, you know for certain that everything feels off without him — missing like a centre puzzle piece.

"i know," you run your fingers through his rough and matted hair. "i love you too, megs."

"think you'll have to wash my hair for me, too."

you shake your head. "probably has lice."

"we'll have lice together, then." your boyfriend shrugs his shoulders.

"that's so gross, megs," your face sours. "you're such a romantic."

200124 — WHY IS THIS SO LONG DAMN

[red-dead-n-dandy]

fluffy cuddle headcanons for bill williamson (+ anyone else you feel like writing!) and a gender neutral s/o? im in the mood for cutesy cowboy content 👉👈

Absolutely! Always! I try to write gender-neutral as much as I can so everyone can enjoy :) And mee too!! I need a cuddle, where's my cowboy at?!

Mind on You

Pairing: RDR2 Men x Reader

Game: Red Dead Redemption 2

Warnings: some of the men's headcannons got slightly angsty/emotional - it's not too ba,d but i always warn just in case! (Bill, Kieran and Sean)

{ How each of the men love to cuddle/hold you }

I would love to hear your thoughts and feedback in the comments or tags, thank you and enjoy! <3

ARTHUR MORGAN:

Lover of the slow morning cuddles

He's always on the go, so the mornings that he can relax with you are his favourites.

"Slow down, ain't got nowhere to be this mornin'." as you try to get up and get dressed.

It's a feeble attempt.

You barely manage to sit up before his arm snakes around your waist.

Chuckling as you're pulled back into the warmth of his chest.

"Now," he murmurs in his deep morning voice "you ain't going nowhere."

Slowly starts kissing your neck if you try to protest.

BILL WILLIAMSON:

Behind all the bluster, he's a big softie.

He seeks you out when he's had a tough day, the kind of day when the whole camp just views him as the camp fool.

It stings deeper than he's willing to admit

But you know

The soft "Come here, darling" just melts him.

Surrendering into your arms, hair on his body standing upright as you run your hands over his shoulders to ease away at the knots of stress.

Though he's embarrassed, he looks up at you - into your soothing eyes and he knows...everything's gonna be alright.

CHARLES SMITH:

Charles is quite a private man, so although he loves your affection; he wouldn't necessarily go for full-blown PDA and cuddles in front of the gang.

That's your time, together.

To him, it's sacred.

If you come and quietly ask him to cuddle, he'll take your hand and lead you away from everyone else.

Happiest with you in between his legs, your back against his chest

Whether you're reading, drawing, sharpening knives etc - he likes to wrap his arms around you and gently rest his chin on your shoulder to watch what you're up to

Has been known to fall asleep like this, but will deny it

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

Dutch loves nothing more than pulling you into his lap in the evenings when sitting around the campfire.

Does this in a low-key possessive way

He gets even more of a kick out of it when he knows you're busy.

I mean, who's gonna deny him?

Not you, that's for sure!

"Come, sit for a while. You've been so busy today"

Encourages you to cuddle in closer as the warmth of the fire envelops you both.

HOSEA MATTHEWS

BIG fan of having a cuddle while reading

Whether it's you laying in his lap or the other way around

Will read passages aloud to you if you ask him to

Help him up, his back will thank you!

Enjoys being quiet and with nature, points out different birds and animals etc

Will also randomly launch into stories, some true...some less so! but you love them either way.

"Did I ever tell you about the time..."

JAVIER ESCUELLA

Another member of the cuddly gang!

Loves affection, but can become nervous when he falls for someone

Talk to him about music or his (emotional support) guitar and he'll relax.

Better yet, ask him to teach you how to play!

Awkward reaching of hands to help you get the chords

"It might be easier if I move closer?" you oh-so-innocently ask.

God, he smells good!

He is a nervous wreck inside, but the proximity is oddly addictive.

Oh, stay a little longer! He'll teach you song after song if you're willing!

JOHN MARSTON

He's not massively cuddly, but god does he need some love!

He'll never ask for a cuddle, but you'll see the signs.

"what you doin'?" he asks defensively as you move yourself onto his lap.

Soon relaxes into it, but claims it's you "being all clingy and stuff"

Gets more affectionate when he's drunk

Secretly loves it when you trace your fingertips over his scars.

He hates them, but the way you coo over them - that feels nice.

JOSIAH TRELAWNEY

If you can hold him down for 5 goddamn minutes, then sure, he'll cuddle you!

I swear this man just disappears?!

The best time to cuddle him is honestly while he sleeps!

Move into his arms and he'll subconsciously wrap you up, his moustache tickling your head.

If you're lucky, he'll stir in the night and give you a couple of small kisses.

Also a big fan of cuddles in a shared bath?

KIERAN DUFFY

Please...can someone show this man an ounce of love?

He works so hard, so it's nice to have some affection at the end of the day, a shoulder massage that turns into a sleepy cuddle - yes, please!

Another one for bath cuddles!

Is just constantly serving, it feels like he's never off the clock, but for you? he doesn't mind!

Do you need him to wash your hair, and your body? Your clothes?

He can feel at a loss if he just exists with nothing to do

So hold him, sing to him, serve him for a change!

LENNY SUMMERS

Like Hosea, Lenny enjoys reading with you in his lap and loves to absent-mindedly run his hands through your hair.

He loves to make up poems for you and will recite them as you cuddle.

Is so eager to tell you about all the different flowers! His mum taught him and it makes him feel so close to her. knows which ones are rare, their different uses etc

Actually has a collection of dried flowers in a journal but thinks the other men would tease him for it, so only you and the women know..shhh!

Loves to loud watch with you as well, he's such a little dreamer! *cough* dreamBOAT *cough*

MICAH BELL

Not a cuddler.

expect to be teased and tormented relentlessly if you dare to ask

If you stick to your guns...like you are GETTING this cuddle, he'll be handsy

And it's just not that kind of cuddle, you know?

Not that he particularly cares

It's not a satisfying cuddle by any means

like this man is ticking a box at the very least, and getting something out of it if he can.

Honestly, I think you'd be better asking literally anyone else!

"Don't you dare ask another man, c'mere!" he'll say coldly.

SEAN MACGUIRE

He's always happy, always bubbly! If you were to try and cuddle him before he was tortured by the bounty hunters, it would be a case of "catch me if ya can!"

but things have changed, Sean has changed. The rest of the group hasn't noticed much of a change, he's careful to make sure they don't. The fear of not being good enough, or strong enough consumes him.

So long as he's good ol' Sean-y boy, everything will be fine!

But he has become more vulnerable with you, wants you cose, needs you close

You are his little ray of sunshine and he can't lose you now!

Whispering praises and promises like it's his last night on earth...because although the gang doesn't seem to recognise it...it very almost was.

[fortunekookie07]

Dance with Me - Caleb

Finally the day had arrived. You walked to the den and found Caleb sitting at the table working quietly. His back is bent over his current project. You never really understood his fascination with putting together these models when he flew the real thing. But it made him happy to assemble the tiny versions.

Sometimes, you loved to sit and watch him work. The concentrated look on his face was so cute. His eyes would be narrowed, and his brow would be furrowed as he carefully put the small pieces together.

You call his name softly and wait until he turns around before presenting him with the box you were holding.

Placing the small box in Caleb's hand with a grin, you sit next to him. "Didn't we agree, no gifts this year?" He asks, setting down the wrench. The pieces of his model are scattered across the table.

You kiss his cheek. "This is one gift you don't want to miss." He eyes you and then the box before grasping the ribbon and tugging. The simple bow knot comes undone. Pulling the lid up, he stares down at a black and white picture.

Confusion furrows his brows as he picks it up and stares at the image. Slowly, a smile stretches across his face. "You mean?" He asks, looking at you with pure joy. "Mhh hmmm." You nod vigorously.

He pulls you up with him and starts dancing around the kitchen and into the living room. You laugh as he spins you around in a crazy rhythm.

"Caleb, what are you doing?" He brings you in close, and you can hear the thumping of his heart. "Dance with me!" He can't contain his enthusiasm. Finally, you collapse on the couch, but it seems he still has energy to spend.

"I'm going to be a farher!" He shouts and then runs to the door and throws it open before shouting the same sentence from the open door.

You shake your head at your childish husband. Eventually, he comes back to where you're seated and sits down before laying his head in your lap. Turning to face your still flat stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist. "How far along are you?" He mumbles into your stomach. Whether he is asking you or the growing baby, you're not sure.

"Almost ten weeks." You brush your fingers through his hair. You can feel his smile against your stomach. Is this why you've been weird with food lately." You know it's a rhetorical question.

Having grown up together your whole life, Caleb is more than familiar with your eating habits. "Yeah, Tara went with me to the doctor for a checkup last week. She was almost as excited as you were. Don't worry, you are the first to find out."

Caleb gets up and then pulls you up and into his arms. "Ca-Caleb! Where are we going!" You laugh as he waltzes over to the bedroom and throws the door open with his evol.

"There's still time! We might be able to make them twins!" You laugh at this man, with his vast understanding of sciences, saying something so absurd. But he won't hear of it and so you end up spending the rest of the day in your bedroom. He hardly let you up to eat or use the bathroom.

You stroke his bare back, listening to him snore softly as you lay tucked into his arms.

The path to your current relationship had been incredibly difficult. With all the secrets he'd tried to keep from you on his desperate and somewhat deranged path to keeping you safe. Then there was the aftermath when those secrets had come to life.

His mental health had hit an all-time low, and he'd come close to calling these life quits. It was honestly a miracle that you'd made it to today.

"This life isn't easy, but I hope you'll help me take care of your daddy." You say softly stroking your stomach.

Being with Caleb wasn't easy. Despite having known him your whole life, he felt like a stranger when he came back. A strange pretending to be the protector you'd always known.

When everything came to light and all his secrets, pain, and suffering were laid bare, it had been brutal.

Caleb was willing to end it all. If he couldn't have you, he didn't want anything anymore.

You still remembered the desperate look on his face that day. The raw fear in his eyes as he thought you were going to walk away from him. You hadn't been sure of what you wanted until that point.

But when you sank to your knees in front of him and hugged him, all had seemed right, like you just knew it was all going to be ok. You knew you didn't want to lose your best friend, and you found the strength and courage in your heart to save him.

Caleb had stood trial, and people were ready to throw the book at him. It was only when evidence came to light that he hadn't been acting of his own free will that changed everything.

He'd gone from the monster seeking to destroy the city to a victim. Forced to act against his will and better nature. The looks of pity they gave him had been almost as bad as their anger.

He still suffered from that time. His nightmares were terrible. Sometimes, he would cry in his sleep. Only holding onto him and assuring him he was not alone helped.

So, to say it had been a difficult year was an understatement. It has taken months to get Caleb reinstated in the DAA. His friends and fellow pilots had welcomed him back with open arms. Ready to have him at their side once more. Some friends really would stand with you through hell and high water.

Picking up pieces of a broken life was worth it in the end. When you got the news, the first person you wanted to tell was Caleb. You'd even sworn Tara to secrecy until you could break the news

Unconsciously, Caleb holds you closer, and you drift off to sleep.

****************************************************

Here we go with story 2!

Caleb was difficult for me to write, in that I struggle with adding depth to this story for him. I knew I wanted to have a theme for all five guys and I started with a thought, making very sure no story is the same and I believe I have succeeded, a you'll find out in thevdays to come.

I know Caleb was introduced near the beginning of MCs story, but his character is still very unknown to me. Hence my great struggle with keeping to what I do know.

So please don't come for me! I did put my best effort into this.

[middlingmay]

sup hope you've had a fabulous day

humbly requesting more cleganmarge thoughts if you've got them :) not picky about content, I just think there is a profound lack of buck-has-two-hands content so if you've got thoughts or ideas that you're excited about and been wanting someone to ask about, lay them on me :)

My day has just begun and I'm taking a very demanding doggy out for a walk in the rain. Can only go up from here!

Ahh Buck has two hands, what a wonderful thought, thank you for sharing. We do tend to put the onus on Bucky and Marge when it comes to getting all three of them together, and leading the intimacy in their relationship. And whilst I love Gale-is-just-happy-to-be-there thoughts, there is something about Gale taking charge (similar to @avonne-writes CleganMarge thoughts and Gale being a big ol' go-getter once he knows what he wants).

So, thoughts about Buck and his two hands:

John might be the most tactile of all of them, but Gale is very much an acts-of-service man, imo. And he uses his hands to this end for both Marge and John, but in different ways.

For Marge, he likes to tie the laces on her heels (if they have any) letting her hold on to his shoulder for balance as he kneels down before her. He likes to hold her hair up as she puts on her necklace so it won't snag. He likes to smooth out wrinkles in her skirts or pants or coats because he knows it'd bother her if anyone saw them. He holds things for her and passes her things and even flicks the pages in her cookbooks if her hands are too messy from cooking to do it herself.

For John, he likes to hold a little tighter, whether it's his arm or his waist or the back of his neck. Because he knows it helps Bucky feel more grounded and centred. He likes to pour him a drink but never too much, and he likes to pick and put the needle on John's favourite records as he either sits and listens to them in the evening or decides to take Marge a whirl around the living room floor. He likes to fight to keep him down when he has a nightmare, and has to fight to hold him afterwards, too, because he'll never let John live another day without knowing Gale is right there with him.

Now, let's rack up that rating a little bit shall we:

Let's say Gale and John had something during the war. I don't usually HC that they did, but it works here - because it means Gale is the only one who knows what John and Marge like. So he's the only one, when they all start a sexual relationship together, who knows how to make it good for everyone.

And it's his mission to make sure everyone has a good time, and he approaches it with the same dedication, the same wild heart and reckless passion as he ever did flying a plane.

John is his co-pilot again and so is Marge, and he guides them through, instructs them on what to do, where to touch, how much pressure to use, when to go fast or slow, what the other likes to hear. Sometimes he doesn't touch at all, and just sits in an armchair in the room that's become his and his alone, and conveys his orders in that low drawling voice of his, making sure his wife and their fella make each other feel good.

There's more than a little ego about it, too. Because he made that happen - he told them how to do it all.

So maybe that armchair becomes a thing. And whenever Marge or John walks into the room and sees him sitting in it, eventually it's like a Pavlovian response and it doesn't take long for them to usher the missing partner into the room after that.

Thanks for the ask and happy weekend! 😊

[pluto-supremacy]

Viktor Headcanons: dating a ftm!disabled!reader

➼ This is a very self-indulgent set of headcanons as a disabled trans man, but hey I hope you enjoy!

➼ Reader doesn't have a specific disability, I'm trying to be as general and inclusive as possible so a wide range of disabled persons can relate

➼ No beta we die like Silco

➼ Warnings: mentions of gender dysphoria

GIF does not belong to me! All credits to the owner

Mobility aids out the wazoo laying around you guy's room. Canes? Check. Walkers? Yep. Wheelchairs? You bet. Crutches? I could go on here people

He learns everything he can about your disabilities. I mean everything. Mans is staying up til the wee hours of the morning reading up on how to help you, general limitations from the disability, etc.

Will remind (and force) you to take breaks

"My love, you've been on your feet far too long. Sit down, I'll go get you a glass of water"

You're gonna have to do the same for him too, Viktor doesn't know how to take his own advice

The shower of course has a shower chair (if you need one) with everything within reach

Viktor keeps a section of clothes set aside for your bad dysphoria days. Whether that means baggier clothes, long sleeves, backup binders, his clothes that he always catches you stealing. Anything to try and make you feel more comfortable in your own skin

If you bind, he reminds you to take binding breaks. He'll make sure you can run off to your shared room to take that breather and not have to worry about people staring at you

Keeps easy food to make when you both don't have the energy to make anything

Your guy's bed? The comfiest ever. Lots of pillows, blankets, anything to help your joints and help you feel comfortable

Heat intolerant? Ac is cranked with fans. Cold intolerant? Well now it's the opposite

Uses his experience with hextech to invent new devices for you to help

"I know you said that you were struggling with your heart rate, so I made you a monitor. Small enough to wear under your shirt and it logs everything for a week so we can write it down. It also tells you what you were doing when it spikes or drops. Need some help putting it on?"

He's the first one to advocate for you, and the loudest. A building isn't ADA accessible? Oh, he's on it. Someone is being ableist? He has a sharp tongue and if all else fails, he has a cane too

You're both always there for the other's doctor's appointments. Viktor will drop his work to come with you (which is saying something since he'll deny food, water, and rest to continue his work)

He has a little trans pin on all of his clothes, it's one of his little ways to show you he loves you

If you ever get gender-affirming surgery, he's now doing his absolute best to take care of you while you're recovering. No heavy lifting, helping you get dressed, setting alarms to give you your prescriptions, fluffing up pillows (since you will be on bed rest for a while, doctor's orders), anything and everything he can do to make the healing process quicker and easier for you

"Y/N, if you try to get up one more time I will have to tie you to the damn bed. The doctor said no strenuous activity and to rest for a few days minimum. Rest, please"

Will loudly and aggressively correct people when they misgender you on purpose (he's nicer about it when it's a pure accident)

Can, will, and has yelled at your doctors before. Whether it was an appointment for your disabilities and they refused to take you seriously or if a doctor is 'not convinced' you're trans. Needless to say you never had to see those asshole doctors again

Helps you decorate your mobility aids, whether that be stickers, covers, or making add-ons for them (like a secure bag holder on your wheelchair, for example)

While Viktor isn't really one for shopping, he will happily take you to different shops to try and find you clothes that make you feel comfortable in your own skin. And of course afterwards you guys go out for a little treat, like ice cream or coffee

[delopsia]

You know something is wrong when you wake to the sound of him in the bathroom at half past six. A full hour after he's supposed to be out the door and off to work.

The front door is ajar, and his boots lay scattered about the floor as if he's kicked them off in his rush back into the house. His phone still sits on the table, and his truck rumbles outside, the engine warm and ready to take on the day. But the cowboy who drives it isn't there.

You know that for certain because you can see his sock-covered foot through the crack in the bathroom door. He's curled himself around the toilet, sweaty cheek resting on his forearm, half-lidded eyes gazing into the water, unsure of whether his stomach is done churning or not.

"Rhett?" Your voice is nothing but a whisper, too loud in this quiet little room. And you'd worry that he didn't hear you if not for the hesitant lift of his gaze. Distant and unfocused, like he's left a portion of himself elsewhere.

It's a wonder that he's managed to dress himself, and even then, he's only been able to do so much. Has squeezed into those too-tight Wranglers but forgot to pick out a buckle to snap onto his belt, and you're fairly certain the t-shirt clinging to him is the same one he wore to bed.

"'m okay," he croaks, tone so gravelly that you hardly believe it's coming from him at all. But his stomach seems to have a different opinion, because he's lurching toward the toilet in a matter of moments.

The only thing you can do is gather his hair into your hands and hold it back. His skin burns with an invisible wildfire, damp with a thin sheen of sweat, and he feels even warmer when you flatten the back of your palm against his forehead.

And yet, your big, dumb cowboy is reaching for his hat that, at some point or another, wound up in the bathtub and tries to place it on his head. It should be muscle memory, and yet, he places it too far forward, entirely covering his eyes.

Pinching the brim, you tilt it back, peering into those barely-there blues, "You're sick, cowboy."

"No 'm not," there's the tiniest shred of insistence in his tone, the most he can manage. God, how did he even get out to his truck like this?

Your head shakes, "you can't go to work like this."

And despite his slow tipping forward, unable to stop himself from collapsing into your arms, he still seems to think that he's fine. He can still make it to work. This will wear off come sunrise.

But the sun is already peeking over the horizon, painting the sky with hues of yellow, orange, and gold. Far too bright for your gloomy cowboy to look at, covering his eyes when it peeks through the blinds. Still insists that he'll grab his truck keys and head out in a few minutes and doesn't believe that he's already got it running until after you return with them in your hand.

"Whaddaya mean?" He's gotten himself to his feet, but he's long since slouched against the wall. Doesn't seem to have realized that he's doing it, either. "I didn't...I..."

It's the tripping over his own feet that finally draws him back to bed. Snuggling beneath the covers, small trash can next to the bedside table, just in case. His nose wrinkles when you feed him some medicine, damn near turns green when you ask if he wants any crackers or tea.

This is the first time you've seen him genuinely sick; in the past, it's only ever been allergies and the slightest bit of food sickness, but somehow, you already know exactly how he's going to act.

Clingy.

He insists on snuggling on top of you, and when his belly grows too uncomfortable for that position, he's on his side, wedged into the gap below your chin. Sleep comes to him in bits and pieces, cut short by nausea and the scratchiness in the back of his throat.

Come noon, his stomach grumbles for something that he's not entirely sure he can keep down. But you wander into the kitchen to make him a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and soon, that scent draws him out. Still looks a little uneasy, as he rests on the couch, quietly watching you work. Eating isn't exactly the most pleasant experience; his body screams at him to eat, but his stomach isn't so keen on the whole idea.

He lays on the couch with his head in your lap until the nausea subsides, then meekly meets your eye and asks if that offer to make tea still stands.

It does.

And as soon as he's had his fill, you're guiding him into the bath before drowsiness can take hold of him. You're initially trying to stay outside the tub, but one way or another, you wind up in there with him, washing the soap from his hair and massaging those bulky shoulders. He does his best to return the favor, running the cloth over your skin, but he's moving so slowly that he might as well not be doing anything at all.

He frowns when he catches himself leaning in for a kiss. Finds this whole 'spreading germs' thing to be cruel and unusual punishment. Brightens when you fold and kiss him anyway. He was certainly contagious yesterday, and with the way you were all over him, there's no way you haven't caught what he's got.

Watching movies on the couch ends in sleeping against one another, and moving yourselves to bed leaves you wide awake and watching videos on your phones.

Come morning, you wake to the damning sensation of a stuffy nose and a churning stomach. Rhett finds you sometime after you've stumbled into the bathroom, kissing your cheek as he tells you that he's already called off work.

Reheating soup comes in the form of leaning against each other in front of the stove, waiting for it to boil. You finish those movies and fall asleep amidst the next one. Washing each other in the shower, swaying back and forth, uncoordinated and clumsy, like it's your first day on Earth.

You know he's feeling better when he tugs you out the front door for a sunset drive under the guise of getting snacks and clearing your heads. Come morning, you'll feel his stubble scratch your cheek as he leaves a kiss there with a whispered, "I love you."

Rhett doesn't get sick very often, but oh, when he does...

[leahrintarou]

☠︎︎ DAY TWENTY-SIX: OVERSTIMULATION FT. ATSUMU

☠︎︎ WARNINGS: fwb relationship, best friends, no penetration, female stimulation, teasing, fem reader

☠︎︎ WORD COUNT: 1.3k

y/n's eye's darted up from the screen of her laptop and to the entrance of her bedroom's door after hearing it swing open with such force. "we lost" she heard the blonde announce before closing the door behind himself. "and you're smiling about it?" y/n questioned, still a bit pissed about his sudden barge into her home. "it was a fun game, i don't mind losing, after all, i got to play with some people i knew from high school"

y/n only sighed, before feeling the slight and sudden pressure on the area of her bed that atsumu decided to lay back on. "i could've introduced you but, you never come to my games to watch me play anyways" he frowned, eye's slightly glaring at y/n's uninterested expression. "you want me to watch you lose?" she looked up from her laptop to meet atsumu's gaze, smiling when the evidence of his pissed off state became visible on his features.

"i always come to your stupid student occasions. every one that you've taken for each semester too. despite them being so boring-"

he let out an unexpected whine when y/n's hand collided with his shoulder, leaving a stinging pain behind. "you always tell me how each of your games go, anyway. so, just fill me in on the shit ton of girls that flirted with you or vice-versa" atsumu groaned at her words before sitting up to remove her laptop from it's place on her thighs. "you know i'm not like that anymore, n/n"

"oh, really? i thought you were" atsumu couldn't tell whether she was using sarcasm or not but knowing y/n well enough, it was probably the first option. "you act like you wouldn't fall for me if i actually tried to date you"

"i wouldn't, you're basically a manwhore" she reached for her laptop, pulling it back into her lap so she could focus her attention back onto it. "aw, call me that again" he laughed when y/n' attempted to throw a pillow directly toward his face. "shut up, tsumu"

she calmed down, eventually, finally being able to voice a question. "so..are you going to tell me why you just bursted into my room without calling me?" she questioned. "well, you did give me a key to your apartment which means you're comfortable enough with me catching you doing basically anything. and i also just came here to see you"

y/n glared at his own calmly natured gaze, struggling to look away from him. with the sound of a notification from her phone, she was thankful that it finally snapped her out of her daze. atsumu would always have that affect on her, whether it was intentional or not. everything he did, basically mezmorized her which is why most of the time, she words slick insult or comments just to avoid him from becoming too relaxed.

"well, you saw me. what do you want to do?" she asked. "I'm not sure yet" atsumu was trapped in thought and his sudden silence made y/n look up to admire his features. he felt her gaze but decided to ignore it. that was until, it shifted onto his lips and his lips only. thoughts raced through y/n's head when she saw him smile, immediately forcing herself to look away and back to her laptop. "i feel you staring, pretty"

"fuck off, I just spaced out"

"really? what were you thinking about?"

she didn't reply and only kept her focus onto the screen of her laptop, contemplating whether or not she should insert some earbuds too. just so she could ignore the rising tension that was only being built up more and more in the atmosphere of her room, once again, atsumu removed her laptop from her lap, replacing it with his head, resting it there while his hand caressed the side of her thigh.

"tsumu, i have to finish my assignment. its due in a few hours" she explained reaching for it. he lifted his head before grabbing y/n's wrist. "then why've you been staring at the blank screen for so long?. clearly you're thinking about anything but that assignment." atsumu eventually sat up properly, before leaning closer to y/n, just barely grazing his lips over hers. he immediately pulled away when he felt her attempt to pull him in closer. "i guess it's too bad that i'm a manwhore, though"

"atsumu" y/n groaned, finally having enough of his teasing. "aw, dropped the nickname, already?" he frowned and just before y/n could speak, he properly leaned in, this time fully pressing his lips against her own. his lips moved as if he didn't have a care in the world and in this moment it felt as if he really didn't. "do you want more, n/n?" he smirked against her after inhaling a sharp breath when she purposely bit his lip.

"don't get all cocky, tsumu"

but despite wanting to keep her pride, the heat that rose between her thighs had other plans to which she couldn't help but follow. atsumu moved next to y/n, resting his back on the headboard before urging her to sit between his legs, her back resting against his chest. atsumu placed small kisses and actions of affection onto her shoulders, the lack of attention where she needed it the most almost making her want to groan from frustration. his hands made its way under the layered hems of her pants and underwear, erupting a satisfied sigh from y/n.

"i think im allowed to be cocky since you get so excited over my slightest touch"

before y/n could speak, the pads of atsumu's digits pressed directly against her bud, making her hold back her word's to avoid it coming out as a pleasured moan. atsumu kept an unsteady and patterned pace just to tease y/n enough so she'd voice her frustration of impatience. he smiled when a whimper left her lips after he purposely slowed his movement. "what's wrong, n/n?"

"you're teasing"

"i know" he smiled, suddenly building up a speed that immediately caught y/n off guard. small moans erupted from her throat when she felt like holding back was just going to make the situation more frustrating. atsumu smiled at her uncontrolled actions, her hips jerked up against his hand, her chest heavied repeatedly, and her legs so desperately wanted to wrap around his wrist. and with another lasting fast pace of atsumu's fingers against y/n's bud, her head leaning back onto his shoulder as her unexpected and fastly arriving peak was finally drawn out of her.

she tried to steady her breathing but quickly failed when atsumu only continued.

"again" he mumbled against her ear. y/n wasn't even sure if she could manage to build up the now overwhelming pleasure in such a small amount of time but the way atsumu's words sounding so confident, she had a little hope. she reached for his wrist to slightly slow his movements so she'd be able to relax against his touch for at least a second. y/n felt relief when atsumu complied but, not without a bit of reluctance. "tsumu"

he hummed at her words, when her hand's rested on his thighs to somehow ground herself to reality. his touches were overwhelmingly pleasure filled. his free hand griped her waist to cease her jerking movements as a continuous stream of moans were laced into her warning's over her second orgasm's arrival. her words only sent excitement through the entirety of atsumu's body, and a smile formed on his lips when her grip on his thighs tightened, her legs closely and suddenly encasing his wrist.

"am i still a manwhore, n/n?" atsumu asked, the pacing of his fingers still continuing at a normal pace. he awaited for y/n's answer to decide whether or not if he should draw yet another orgasm from her already sensitive figure.

"yes...tsumu, wait-"

[mistymisfit]

So long, Marianne I

Summary: Reader is a spy working undercover in Gotham when she meets Jason Todd, who despite her better judgement she forms a very close friendship with. This story follows their escape from Arkham asylum, their fall out and the times they run into each other as they get older.

Relationship: AK!Jason x Meta!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence (I'm serious, tho- in canon it's also pretty violent), angst, hurt/no comfort (for now), this series is just my excuse to write angst lol.

A/N: *CIPA means Congenital insensitivity to pain and anhydrosis aka people who are unable to feel pain. see the end for more notes :)

Word Count: 4,2K

Read on AO3

Part 2- Masterlist

He repeats his question one more time before kicking your stomach again, "Who are you?". He's been asking the same thing for the past... month? Time gets blurry when you're kidnapped. Fuck, undercover work sucked no matter who you did it for. Whether it was your actual boss or the big bad bat himself, they should all make it up for making you endure this--make it up by dying, you thought. God, whose stupid idea was it again? Letting yourself be kidnapped by the Joker so they could track his lair and see if he had any connections to your current case, ah yes... your boss. Not even Batman would ask you to do that, at least the man had some moral code he hung onto, maybe a little too tight. You've earned an early retirement after this assignment, almost two years living in Gotham, out of everywhere. But what neither you or your boss expected was that he'd know your "secret identity" was fake, that he would torture and kill the agents who worked with you and pretended to be your family--or that they'd sell you out. You whisper, they were not even words just an unintelligible sound. He lowers down, putting his ear close to your mouth to be able to listen better and asks you to repeat yourself. You bite him, as hard as you can and draw blood, lots of it which you spit out with a smirk.

"Fuck you" You taunt and he just laughs, holding his wounded ear. The laughing is excessive, it reverberates around the entire room and you brace for the next impact. But it never comes.

"I think it's time you met a friend we have in common" His smile makes dread set in on you, who? By his standards it could be anyone, from someone you actually knew to someone you've never met but was there to pick up on his dirty work as he went to do other things. He pushes you with his feet until you lay on your stomach and begins to cover your hands, you count the layers. First some kind of cloth, then plastic wrap, then aluminum foil, then a bag to hold it all together. Right, you let everyone believe your healing abilities could only work with your hands.

He drags you up, grabbing one of your arms as he walked you to a different room. The side of his head still bled, and you watched the blood fall down and how it got no reaction from him. He must be used to pain or there must be something wrong with his pain nerves. Maybe not enough to be CIPA* because you have seen him wince and experience pain before. Your feet fail you, you can barely take steps due to how weak you are. Every bite of food you've been forced to take ended up being spat or thrown up moments later. You can feel how chapped your lips are, how tangled your hair is, how deep the bags under your eyes must be, the way your arms hurt from being tied behind your back for too long, how much you must look like shit. He opens a door to a mostly dark room, you can only make out a figure sitting on a chair under the singular light in the entire room. He--yeah, it's a guy definitely, you think--he's got his head low, his posture isn't close to being okay and upon further inspection you realize he's tied to the chair. He's pushing to walk in his direction, and you recognize that hair, even though less dirty, and that side profile way less hurt. You knew that person, you knew him maybe a little too much for your mission.

Jason Todd was once your friend, possibly the only friend your age you've ever had. You met him when he was Robin, being instructed that working with Batman may end up being beneficial at the end of the line you were told not to antagonize him. Even helped him every once in a while to get at least his respect. The first time you ever talked to Jason-- or rather Robin at the time, was when he sprained an ankle one night. You were there, trying to gain info on an illegal arms shipment that was arriving that night "We just have to know who bought it" they told you. You weren't there to stop them, you barely were allowed to actually stop bad things from happening and sometimes you envied that in them. They were their own person, they could have lives, make their own decisions, have agency of their own. Instead you, poor you, you had nothing but your work, no family you knew of, no goals of your own, nowhere to go if you wanted to quit. You healed him, at least that you could do. Maybe word would get out of a new vigilante with "unspecified healing abilities", they didn't have to know you actually manipulated time and just turned time back to a moment they weren't hurt. And from that moment on, unknown to you, he had a crush on you.

He started following you around. It's not stalking he'd justify it, he was just investigating. Making sure whose side you were on because after all you were on the harbor the day he stopped some local gangs from getting their hands on bigger guns. But he found no more than your cover story, neither he or Batman could leave a secret identity be secret. He believed your cover story, no one had any reason to question it. You were just Marianne, a simple girl. A simple girl with superpowers who healed his ankle. Later, when you became closer, sitting next to each other on the rooftop of a building looking down on the city lights, and the traffic that still moved late at night, you explained to him that your powers came from a freak accident in a lab when you were a kid. That much was true, most of the things you told him were true. At the time you felt he was someone who understood you, and he felt the same. And that's how the both of you started developing feelings for each other. It was more than just a crush and the need to have the other closer kept getting stronger. You kept reminding yourself that you couldn't, that you were being so unfair to him, keeping him in the dark about who you really were, if he knew the truth he would never have trusted you. So when you were told he died, how Batman was so sure of it, you regretted everything. You were so decided on telling him the night he disappeared, why didn't you do it before? You've been living with that ever since, the regret, the guilt. And it only got worse when you found out he was dead, knowing he died not knowing your real name, he died believing your lies.

"No," you try to stop, not to get closer to his corpse. "what kind of trick is this?"

"Ah, come on- he's still your friend, isn't he?" You struggle, not letting him move you and putting your entire body weight into it, every strain of energy you had in trying to stop it. How sick is he? He kept his body all this time. Tears fell on your face just thinking about it. How much he suffered, how violent his last moments were, how he didn't get justice or a proper burial.

"You can't even respect the dead," You cry "I'm gonna rip your heart out of your chest with my bare hands, do you hear me? I'll make your death so violent even Batman will feel sick"

Your threats started falling out of your mouth faster than the logic in your brain could work, you shouldn't be saying those things. You couldn't be making empty promises like that, you knew you couldn't kill him. You would never be allowed to do it. He laughed, and laughed and pushed you to fall on your back right at the feet of your dead friend. You looked up, just a peak to see his face one last time but he didn't look decomposed, in fact he even had fresh blood on his face. You also saw his chest moving up and down very slowly, was he sleeping?

"Ah, how sweet of you" The man awes, pretending to be flustered by her death threats "but I didn't kill him"

He steps closer and slaps Jason's face, yelling "Wakey, wakey! You have a visit!"

You watch in shock at how he his eyes open so fast, how his head shoot up and the fear in his expression starts to settle in. He wore an orange jumpsuit, as if he was just an inmate more, his cheeks were stained with tears, there was dry blood on one of his nostrils and his lower lip had a cut. Not to mention the "J" scar on his face too.

"What did you do to him?" You ask, sitting up from where you were.

"We were just having fun together, right Jason?" He grabs his head from behind him to make him shake it, saying yes. "and you and I can have just as much fun, soon as you start telling the truth"

"Ma-Marianne?" His voice is rough and low, it was the first time you heard him scared.

"Yes," You crawl closer to him, and look up at him before resting your forehead in one of his legs to hide your face as you started to weep inconsolably "I'm so sorry, they said you were dead, that-"

There is a deadly silence filling the room , where you can only hear your ugly sobs. Jason doesn't respond and you didn't expect him to, but at least they let you cry in peace. Taking in the fact that he'd been alive all this time, thinking about what he's been put through as you mourned like an idiot when you should've kept looking for him. How you abandoned him, how everyone abandoned him. And that made you feel even worse than your initial thought of Joker not letting him rest after he died, because in that case there was nothing you could've done but now... You felt his leg move lightly and you looked up, maybe you were making him uncomfortable and this was his way of saying it. He mouthed a little "I love you" when he knew your captor wouldn't see it. Just then as you gave him a small nod and mouthed "I love you too" you saw he was crying too. Soon his tears fell on you, and he moved his shoulder and turned his head to wipe them off as he sniffed.

"Aww, isn't it romantic, Mr J?" Harley's voice sounds from behind you but you couldn't bring yourself to look away from him. You were getting out there tonight, fuck your cover, fuck your job, he was the only thing that mattered right now.

"Young love," He sighs, dreamy, as if he knew what he was talking about. Like he knew what love felt like at all in any way, shape or form. "We'll have a little menage a trois, It'll be fun dont cha' think?"

And soon enough you felt Harley's arms holding you down as he put a rag over your face and proceeded to throw water. Jason screamed, asking them to stop, that you had nothing to do with them. You coughed when they stopped, at least maybe your face was clean and free of the blood you bit from him earlier. You could handle getting waterboarded, you've been trained to endure all sorts of torture methods. What you couldn't handle was hearing and seeing him like that.

"Now, your little girlfriend hasn't been entirely honest with you"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've already told you who I am" You insist, this time actually desperate.

"Ah- and who are these two then? Liars?" He shows him, not you, a picture of your fake parents dead. Then he shows it to you, of course Jason thought they were your parents, you gave him no reason to believe otherwise. "Cause you see, I thought you were just another annoying kid, getting in the way of my game with the bat- but you're much more than, you're too good"

Silence, you were trained better than this. They put the cloth on your face again, trying once more to get the truth out of you.

"Hey, maybe he knows" He switches up quickly, and takes a piece of broken wood to hold it over Jason "Come on tell me, who's her? And why is your old man protecting her?"

"Her name's Marianne, and he's protecting her because she's my friend"

"Ah-" He imitates a buzzer noise, like he was in some game show "Wrong answer" He hit him.

"Stop it!" You yell, as he repeatedly hit him. You struggle trying to break free from the woman holding you. Until you managed to hit her with my head somehow. You feel the pain in your scalp from her teeth hitting you too.

"This is useless mista' J," Harley spoke, doubt filled her voice. Maybe you were telling the truth, maybe you were just who you said you were and he was too lost to see it. "the girl's been saying the same for months, and her parents weren't even that convincing when they said they weren't her folks"

You watch them leave, him being visibly angry at her for questioning him. Only for him to come back moments later, almost bolting to Jason saying "I have a show to run outside, could you two behave and wait for me here?" Like you had much of a choice, then he said "And hold this for me, boy" before stabbing him. Of course he couldn't stop by without leaving him with an open wound of any sort. You rushed to him before the door was even closed, you removed the knife from the wound with your mouth, your hands still tied behind your back and wrapped up in multiple different layers in a failed attempt to stop you from using your power. Your eyes lit up as you healed him, his pained grunts eventually coming to a stop.

"I bet I look like shit right now" You joke, resting your cheek on his thigh once more. T rying to hide the fact that, despite the situation you were in, you were still a bit embarrassed that he saw you like that.

"You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen in my life" He confesses, not a single strain of joke or sarcasm in his statement and it makes you blush before you move to the back of his chair to untie him.

"You only say that because you want me to free you" You say before grabbing the rope with your teeth, taking longer to undo the knots than it would with your hands on your back and not being able to see what you were doing. If only they didn't think your powers worked from your hands.

"His ear, you did it?" He asked, getting a muffled sound of confirmation from you. "That's my girl"

The scoff in which he said it made you blush again, your cheeks were heating up tonight. He knew if anyone was ever getting him out it would be you, not Batman. His mentor probably started to look for a replacement as soon as he went off the grid. He knew you would never betray him, that's the only thing the Joker couldn't torture or manipulate out of him, the one thing he could hold on to. His kidnapper was wrong, he was never Batman's or his. He's always been yours, probably since you healed his ankle. The ropes around his arms loosen until he's free again, his muscles were sore but soon the adrenaline would kick in and rid him from all pain. He frees his legs in a hurry as you stand up in front of him, he stands up too again. The stretch felt good, moving on his own felt good, and seeing you again felt even better. You turned around, it was his turn to get rid of the ropes now. He grabbed the knife that you couldn't use and cut through your bindings. Still he couldn't help but think about the worried look on your face, what are you thinking about? How to get out? Him? Whatever it was, he took a moment and the second you turned to face him again he wrapped you in a hug. Feeling your warm body against him for the time in so long, you return the affection hugging him just as tightly. He feels relieved, finally a gentle hand lays on him, a hand that he knew could never hurt him.

"Jay, I-" You hesitate, hiding your face in his chest while trying to hide and get the courage to tell him at the same time "I have to tell you something"

"Can it wait until we get out?" You shake your head no, he had to know so you could break out from there. I mean, it was kinda hard to break out of Arkham without help.

"No, uhm, we need to call for help" You start "There's a chip on me, I need you to cut me and take it out"

"What? Help from who?"

"My agency" You admit in a whisper, and just as fast as you got him back you feel how you're loosing him a second time. He lets go of you, and you can feel the distance he's putting between you two more than any torture Joker put you through.

"Where is it?" He asks, his tone cold and detached. You try to hide how hurt you were, you should've expected it he had every reason to be mad.

"Here" You lift your shirt up and point to the place where the tracker was, on your lower stomach right above your hips, on your left side.

He nods, and you lay down on the floor so he can get to work. He touches you, only to get a feel of where it was and you try not to think that this will probably be the last time you feel him so close as you put your arm over your mouth to stop any noise that may come out of you. He cuts your skin, and you bite your arm and hope it's quick. With the end of the knife he swiftly pulls it out in between all the blood coming out of you. You tell him to step on it so it gets destroyed and sends the message, as you heal yourself. He wasn't even watching you, his eyes were fixed on the door processing yet another betrayal.

"Jay, I wanted to tell you-" You try to explain but he cut you off shooting a serious glare at you.

"I don't care," He was cold, his voice severe and it even scared you "get me the fuck out of here and we'll talk"

You nodded on the verge of tears, then deciding that holding on to the hope than when you two were somewhere safer he'd be open to have a conversation was your safer bet to maintain some sanity. Maybe then he'd listen to your apologies. At this point you weren't hoping for absolution but a truce would suffice. Why did you have to go and fuck it up? Why did you have to go and fall for him? You knew who you were, a spy trained for most of the life you remembered who worked undercover in Gotham, you knew you were not supposed to have any ties or emotional connections. You cursed at whoever gave you feelings and made you human, instead of whoever turned you into a machine.

"We should get moving, get to the extraction point"

He just nodded, it was short and formal, so unlike what you were used from him. He followed behind you as you carefully opened the door. There were no guards outside, so you moved. Soon an alarm started to blare through the rotten and worn down asylum wing, that's why the hallway was so empty. Two inmates run past both of you, pushing you to a wall in the process. You reach to grab Jason's wrist to make sure he's behind you but stop halfway through. Probably being touched by you was the last thing he wanted. So you just walk, decidedly pushing through this situation you were in. Armed with nothing but your fists you take out a man twice your size, you easily dodge his punches and swiftly move around him to hit him in key points that he leaves open. Jason watches, and realizes as you jump to the man's shoulders and snap his neck that you had been holding back all this time. He understands you have been capable of using lethal force but chose not to, though he doesn't know the reason for that. Was it because of Batman? Was it because you were ordered not to? He pushes down the thought, as he should be more focused on the guy he was fighting instead of you. You keep moving, going up to were a helicopter would be waiting for you. What you didn't expect was the Joker's backup plan, Death-stroke, pointing a gun right at your head. Shit, you didn't even tell him about your powers yet, he was going to be even more pissed if you didn't find another way out of this soon.

"Out of my way kid" He tells you "I'm only getting paid for not letting him leave alive, but I don't mind wasting a bullet"

"Oh, fuck off" you sigh tired, you just wanted to get out of there. You were exhausted, you wanted a shower and to sleep on a real bed and if it wasn't too much to ask maybe see the light of the sun. So you froze him, time stopped for the man in front of you. "move, it won't last long"

Jason wants to ask, he's itching to know. How did you do it? How did healing people translate into what you just did? He had so many questions for you, about you. Every time a new question came into his head he felt even more offended, he thought he knew you so well and turns out you'd made him out to be an idiot. He feels like an idiot and for that he's even angrier at you for lying, for keeping things from him when he had been so vulnerable to you. That you knew everything about him yet he knew barely anything about you and even what he knew he doubted it was even real at all. But out sheer stubbornness he wasn't going to ask, he'd rather take the curiosity to his grave.

The loud noise of a helicopter becomes more clear as you head up, and then you recognize the all black uniform and standard weapon of your agency. Confusion painted your face, why would they send backup instead of it just being an extraction team. Usually they didn't have a care in the word if you got out in time or not, even going as far as leaving you behind once. They weren't usually this helpful, or willing to use resources on a simple rescue mission. The help didn't last long since you heard the gun shot coming from where you came from. Shit, it wore off you better leave quickly. You tell him to run, to keep up the pace and he does, promising himself this was the last time he would trust you. It was all fine and well, you could see the escape route clearly you almost made it when you heard it. Jason held the bleeding wound from the bullet, stumbling until you helped him. You stole a gun from a passing agent, they wouldn't notice since it was just their back-up, and shot at the mercenary. Your aim was just a little off, since you were also holding a person with your other arm but you managed to hit his arm. The bullet just grazed him, your friend didn't have the same luck. You shot again, just to create some cover so you could move. It worked, you made it to the helicopter before he passed out from the blood loss. Sadly you couldn't heal him since the bullet was still there, so in tears as you took off you managed to stop his bleeding until you got help.

Of course your supervisor wasn't happy about you escaping earlier than expected or that you bought him along. But after some promises and insisting, they agreed not to let him die and took him to the closest headquarters. You knew the conditions they put on you were harsh but you thought nothing was worth more than his life, so you agreed. Even if it mean never seeing him again, why did it matter anyways? It's not like he wanted much to do with you after today.

A/N: Like I said on the notes on ao3, I'm sensitive and this is my first time posting what I write in a LONG time so have patience with me lol.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

Some head canons

Teen hanma

also can see him being the type of guy who picks video games over studies

He watched tv once (horror movie)

with kisaki and it ended up with kisaki wacking him in the nuts

He has a thing for saying "fuck it" alot after risking something stupid

Hanma has a thing for clinging up your window and knocking on it at 4am

timeskip hanma

Hanma has a whole collection of watchsHe probably kisses his s/forehead while softly speaking to them about the, plans for the day every morning

homeless hanma befriended a lot of street cats and when he finds money he buys the cats food instead of buying himself food

Hi Kat, thanks for another ask (I'm absolutely lovin' this)!

C/W ::: Mmm, nothing really. More sweet Shuji.

︽ I can definitely feel the whole play before studying. If he studies that night at all. Shuji isn't stupid. He's not necessarily book smart, either. But he figures he's made it this far. What more does the world want from him?

︽ I feel like Kisaki gets really impatient with Hanma (especially) sometimes and feels like there's no other option but to whack him on the balls. But to be fair, Kisaki feels like that about a lot of people.

︽ He DOES say fuck it. I think before doing stupid shit, too. Sometimes, that's the last little push he needs from himself to get the (crazy) job done.

︽ Hanma totally goes to your window at 4am. On nights when he just can't stop thinking about you and how nice you keep being to him. You're one of the first people that doesn't treat him like an absolute asshole (that he secretly feels like??? Is that so much of a stretch?)

︽ He is so vain sometimes! But he would argue there's "nothing wrong with taking pride in your outer appearance." Whether it be with clothing, jewelry, watches, hair ... the man probably has a regular place he gets his brows done, gets facials, and has regular full-body massages. I just see him as someone who likes to be papmered. So what if he has to do it for himself. He's earned it (lowkey not really, though, but he has that mentality that he "deserves it").

︽ When you and Hanma spend the night together, it's usually at his place. He likes the added security of his boys being nearby if anything happens. He can send you off with them or have them stay with you there (he might not even have to wake you up if there's anything eventful happening in the middle of the night), and he won't need to worry about you getting hurt over some stupid shit he started with Toman or Black Dragon. But he totally wakes you up with sweet, soft, minty kisses all over your face in the morning because he's already been up for 2 hours, drinking his coffee and catching up on shit. He brings you a French pressed coffee (a latte, with your favorite flavor or syrup. I think he drinks it black usually, but you've gotten him to sway/experiment with his tastes a little here and there.) And he'll sit down on the bed next to where you're laying and discuss what each of you will be doing that day and how you're coming back to his place again tonight - because he said so.

︽ HANMA. IS. A. CAT. PERSON. I'll say it again. HANMA. IS. A. CAT. PERSON. His landlord/lease doesn't allow pets, so he has to do without. But! But! But! There's a dumpster out back that the complex throws their trash away in, and it's become home to about 15 strays. He saves his table scraps for the "little beggars" when he has something tasty to eat (and by save his table scraps, I mean he saves his food for them to nibble on). He only recently told you about how he helps these kitties out. You think it's the sweetest thing for such a tough guy like him to do, and you know better than to make a big deal about it because he'd get embarrassed and then he and the cats would suffer. And there's enough suffering in the world. You also slip about 6,000 ¥ into his wallet and coats once every couple of weeks or so when he's not looking so you can help feed him AND the cats. You're a big softy for general wellbeing. He's always so surprised to find the money, "Oh what? Look what I found, hana! Shit, I'm lucky. The happy look on his face is so worth it for you because you know deep in your heart of hearts that he's thinking first of the cats and then he'll get whatever he can with anything left over.

Taglist ::: @sjsjkkalatjejejskal @arlerts-angel @viburnt @darkstarlight82 @kazutora-kurokawa

I love your HC's, Kat! (And welcome! We're always happy to have more of us join the ranks! ONE OF US, ONE OF US! ;))

[thisisawonderfulusername]

a hike with your angel

aziraphale x reader

requested by: anonymous

summary: aziraphale takes you on a hike to tell you something special

warnings: just fluff

a/n: i've had this done for a while and just... didn't post it for some reason. hopefully it's good :)

when aziraphale invited you to go out, you were excited. while it was normal for the two of you to go out, it just never ceased to bring happiness to you. whether it was sitting silently in his shop listening to music, or going out for a meal, you loved it.

it was a passing suggestion in the quiet of the shop as you read a book.

"do you enjoy hikes, y/n?"

you looked up to him, "if there's something to look forward to at the end, yes."

he nodded to himself, and that was the end of that conversation.

maggie had suggested to him the idea of a nice picnic when he approached her with the question of how to confess his feelings, and he decided that she knew what she was talking about.

after a few days of planning, he showed up at the door of your quaint home. you were confused to see him, as you usually met him at his shop midday. "angel, what are you doing here?"

you had adopted the nickname for him when you heard crowley speak it, not knowing the meaning behind it until they told you later of their identities.

"well, i thought that we could go on a hike," he tells you, "i found a nice trail just outside of town, and crowley was kind enough to lend me his car."

you glanced out onto the street and saw that the car was indeed there. "well, that sounds like a lovely idea."

-

about a half hour later, you're going down a trail in the park, weaving through trees and listening to the sounds of the birds chirping and a creek flowing to the side.

"it's beautiful out here" you hum, admiring the greenery and wildlife.

"it truly is," aziraphale smiles, thinking of what lies ahead.

when you get to a clearing, you notice a blanket laying on the ground amongst the grass and flowers, a basket resting on top.

"ah, here we are," you're surprised when aziraphale walks toward it.

"did you set this up?" you question, a small grin spreading across your face.

he looks back at you as he opens the basket, "why of course" he smiles," you said you enjoy hikes if there's something to look forward to."

you admire the set up. it's like something you'd see in a movie. a red gingham blanket, a wicker basket- and he pulls out a bouquet of flowers.

"these are for you." he holds it out to you and you swear your heart is beating out of your chest as you take them.

"they're beautiful," you whisper softly as you admire it. all of your favorite flowers are presented in a magnificent arrangement.

nervously, he folds his hands together. "i actually have to tell you something-" he clears his throat, "something important."

you gently place the flowers down, "what is it?"

"well, you see…" he tries to remember the speech he prepared, the one he recited in his head the whole hike here like a mantra. apparently, he didn't recite it quite enough, because it just wasn't there anymore. "i… well, we've been friends for quite some time and…"

as he struggles for words, you hope that what he's trying to say is what you've been wanting to say for a long time.

instead of allowing him to continue the struggle. of formulating words, you gently cradle his face in your hands and kiss him.

every single feeling you've had for this angel is poured out through one action, and your heart is racing. what if you read into this wrong?

when you pull away, you look into his eyes, looking for any indication of what his reaction to what you just did was.

they were wide and for a moment you worried you had sent him into shock. until he finally spoke.

"i suppose that's a good way to say it."

you chuckle, "oh thank god that's what you were getting at. i was worried for a moment."

he smiles, "yes. i like you, y/n."

is your heart soaring? it certainly feels like it right now. "good. that would have been embarrassing if you didn't."

laughing lightly, he gently cradles your face in his hands to place another gentle kiss to your lips.

taglists

good omens: @chewbrry @cool-iguana aziraphale: none yet

[aquaticflames]

WIP Game

Rules: You will be given a word. Share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

the ever-talented @shootingstarpilot me with the word MYTH (great word, and GREAT excerpts wahhh) and gotten me to crack this bad boy back open (it has been... altogether far too long. so thank you!!). Longer snippets cause I was feeling generous.

M

"Master Kenobi!” She exclaims, hugging him right around the middle with a content smile on her face. She pulls back and allows him to place his hands at her shoulders, steadying them both. “It's been way too long." "It's been barely a month, Snips.” Skywalker points out, waving incredulously. “You've gone longer not seeing your own agemates.” “Yeah, but it's Master Kenobi.” She retorts, shooting her General a stinky look. Cody still finds their relationship perplexing; the give there is just as good as the take, somehow. “Oh and I'm yesterday’s news now apparently…” “Ahsoka,” Kenobi says, smiling down at her too. “It is good to see you. Have you been treated well? Anakin being fair?” “Hello? What about me?!” Cody watches Ahsoka’s grin turn conspiratorial. “He'll do I guess. How have the 212th been doing?” “HELLO?”

Y

“You have tea?” Obi-Wan asks, pleasantly surprised. “I thought you were at least thirty-percent bloof-caf volume by now.” “I have tea because certain junior medics are sneaking it in my stash as a fruitless effort to have me switch.” “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, dear Helix.” “Nice try Sir, sit your butt down. Caf or tea, Commander?” “...Tea.” Helix whips around to gape at Cody. “No. Blasphemy.” “'Don’t knock it ‘til you try it', Helix.” “You’ve changed Cody. You’re being infected.” The door hisses open and a concerned-looking Polymer pokes his head in. They all turn. “Who’s infected?” Obi-Wan smiles. “Hopefully not me, as this meeting will establish.” “Macabre. Force you’re both terrible. Ugh.” Helix scowls at nothing, then grabs the kettle as it roils and dumps out four mugfuls of water. “Can’t believe I’m outnumbered.” “That’s because Polymer and Cody here have good taste.” “Infectious.”

T

They’d said he was scheduled for a scan tomorrow, for the staging. But what should he do with the remainder of today, now that everything has changed, and – looking out over medbay, feeling out across the ship, as he always can – simultaneously nothing is different at all? On the galaxy turns, but, somehow, here, nothing can be as it was any longer. “Obi-Wan?” It startles him, then makes him feel bad, realising he’d forgotten Cody was there. He feels acutely ill, wondering whether this means Cody is seeing him differently, with revised opinions and fresh doubts. He feels none of that from the man he’s come to call a friend, knows Cody is better than some shallow revision of opinion such as those, but the worry, it flays him open.

H

Here it is, presented to him quietly, and without fuss. This is not the way things usually go for him in this medbay – there is none of the panic, the urgency that comes with landing himself in here. There are no medics running around, no beeping machines or wheeling-carts ready to rescue him. He is lucid. His medics are calm, if a little apprehensive. And the path before them, while unclear, is something rote. He is not the first being in the galaxy that has been told such things, and he certainly shan’t be the last. Why does it feel like the galaxy is collapsing down to this one, single room, then? He comes back into himself, seeing the room around himself again, when Cody’s chair creaks. It comes a moment before the man himself lays a firm hand on his back, just over his nearest shoulder-blade. It is quiet for a moment, as this whole process has been. He wonders why no-one is screaming and shouting about this. These medics will have to learn medicine they’ve not been trained for. Will have more on their plate. His capabilities as a General are about to be called into question, surely. It is too quiet in this room for the way his mind is raring and racing.

No-pressure tags for @anaclastic-azurite, @shortcuts-make-long-delays, @smoosey, @codythecheshirecat, @foreverchangingfandomsao3 with the word FURL !