#And for anon your request will be worked on!! Just probably not today so apologies

[starrfallj]

Lyriccle patting a small potbelly.. I dunno 🥹

(Character by Daniel Henderson on YT)

[headkiss]

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

༄

Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

-

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

-

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

-

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

-

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

-

+1

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

[jasmineoolongtea]

Okay I have a weird request but since you're so good at writing I'm gonna shoot my shot lol. No pressure though! How about a huge misunderstanding between reader and jjk men (and boys), where one is somehow convinced the other is cheating (tho they're not and are totally loyal!) and it causes a big argument with one of them walking out and saying "I'm done." But then when they realise there was no cheating going on it's soft and sweet and full of apology? You can add whoever you'd like, though would love to see Gojo, Geto and Nanami!

a/n: hii anon thank you for your compliments <333 honestly when i saw the words 'weird request' i was thinking in a completely different direction from this but this request is totally normal so do not worry about it at all !!! also so sorry this took a while to get out back to you anon i had to study for and take my driver's licence test ;-; hope i can do your request justice and hope you enjoy it !!!

if anyone had asked gojo satoru what he thought of his relationship, his answer would undoubtedly be that it was rock solid, that nothing could ever phase the two of you, not even the end of the world, and he would probably take off with a skip in his step as he makes his way to go shower you in affection.

so then, if that was true, why was there a pang of an ugly and uncomfortable feeling making its way up his throat at the sight of someone else's jacket wrapped around your figure.

"i'm home, toru!" you cheerily announce, as usual, exhaustion from the day melting off your body as you shed your belongings at the entryway to your apartment. it's been a long day and there's nothing more that you would like to do than to slink back into bed and into your lover's forever warm embrace.

however, unlike usual, satoru does not greet you with a bright grin to sweep you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. instead, he stands motionless in the hallway, his face a mixture of emotions. he doesn't meet your eyes, choosing to glare at the new unfamiliar article of clothing with a sense of contempt.

eerily, satoru is silent. you can't help but attempt to shake off the feeling that something's wrong.

"what's that?" he asks, monotone, his voice is devoid of its typical energy and affection like you're nothing more than a stranger, or perhaps something even worse.

"oh, this?" you look down at yourself and suddenly remember that you were still wearing your co-worker's jacket. "ah right, i forgot a co-worker gave this to me earlier when i was complaining that the ac was too cold." you remark, brushing past him as you move to hang up the jacket on the apartment's coat rack.

you hum absent-mindedly to yourself as you do, thinking to yourself that satoru just probably had a rough day, no thanks to the higher-ups of course, and that was the reason for his strange demeanour today. your back is facing towards him as you pipe up, "remind me tomorrow to return this to him when i head for work."

'him', a bitter taste fills his mouth. there's a heaviness at the bottom of his gut, one that threatens to pull him down with it the more he thinks about it. he soon realises what this feeling is; it's jealousy, an emotion that he thought he was better than, that is gnawing its way into his mind and his vision becomes clouded. he grits his teeth, his jaw tense up.

"right, of course, you're in such a hurry to see him again." he scoffs off-handily to himself. there's a bitter edge to his words and this doesn't go by unnoticed by you.

you turn to face him fully, your lips drawn into a tight line. there's a hidden insinuation lying behind his words, one that you don't necessarily appreciate. "what are you trying to imply here, satoru?"

he decides it would be better to spit it out than to let it fester there on the tip of his tongue. "are you seeing someone else?"

your jaw drops at his accusation. "are you serious? is this really how you see me satoru?" you question, your beautiful face twisting into an expression of deep pain.

a wave of regret instantly washes over him.

satoru doesn't respond and you take his silence as his answer. your throat suddenly feels tight as you choke out, "look, if you're really going to be like this. i-i don't think i can do this anymore." you turn away from him, making your way towards the entrance as you hurriedly scoop up your belongs in a half hazard manner.

you're unsure on whether or not it's sadness or anger that's tugging at your heart right now but what you do know is that there's a sense of betrayal that lingers in the air.

"wait." he pleads, the previous stupid jealousy he might have felt before is long gone by now and all he's left with is the burning pain of regret. if there was an option to undo everything he just said he would take it in a heartbeat.

he reaches out to you and makes a desperate last attempt to stop you from leaving by holding onto your wrist. "please, wait can we talk this out?"

his much larger hand engulfs your wrist and you can't deny how pained his voice sounds and how it tugs at your heart, begging you to stay, but then you remember how fresh the pain was of being accused by someone you thought would be able to trust you wholeheartedly and so, you shrug him off.

"i'm done. goodbye, satoru." you walk out as the door slams closed behind you, leaving him alone to stew in regret.

it's been 10 hours since you left, rightfully so with how he was behaving like an insecure ass to you, and it's been 4 hours of failed attempts to sleep off the ache he feels growing in his chest. he doesn't know why he had acted like that, accusing you of such things completely unwarranted and maybe if he was going to be more purposefully obtuse, he might blame it on the green-eyed monster but even he knows that it would just be a poor deflection of blame.

exhausted from hours of self-inflicted insomnia, he rolls out of bed and stares at the mess of white sheets left in your wake. satoru always slept better when he was with you and now he's just gone and ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

would it be so terrible if he put aside his pride to go begging for your forgiveness for his stupidness? he sure as hell doesn't deserve it right now but he knows that he'll hate himself forever if he never tries. and so, that's how satoru finds himself at your doorstep, soaking wet from the rain and knocking on your door.

against all odds, you answer, though obviously just barely having escaped the clutches of sleep as you rub your eyes tiredly. you're greeted with the sight of him standing at your door and all the conflicting feelings that you tried to bury away previously come crawling back up.

"...what are you doing here, satoru? it's like 2am." you're completely drained and not in the mood for a screaming match if that is what he's here for.

he looks haggard in all senses of the word. his hair is tousled in a sweaty mess from tossing and turning around a bed that feels way too empty with wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead. his clothes are dishevelled in a way which tells you he just threw on the first thing he found in his haste to make it to your apartment and the skin under his eyes is hollowed out as he stares at you with red-rimmed eyes.

gojo satoru looks defeated, to say the least.

"i'm sorry, for everything," he starts off, his chest heaves up and down with shaky breaths. you're not sure if it's him shivering from the rain or just his nerves. "truly deeply sorry." his voice is totally devoid of malice and instead it's more like the satoru you know and love but with a new found rawness and vulnerability to it.

you're not sure what to say, avoiding his gaze as best as you can as you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie, the one that you stole from him ages ago. he notices that and there's a flutter of hope in his heart, but he pushes on with his apology, choosing to not let himself get carried away with that.

"i'm stupid, okay? i'm a monumental idiot." you laugh slightly at that. he takes that as a good sign and that ball of hope within him grows a little stronger. satoru takes a deep sigh, as if to steady himself before continuing.

"i don't know why i said that and you don't deserve any of those thoughts or accusations okay? hell, i'm pretty sure i don't deserve you with how i've been acting today. you don't need to forgive me or anything but i just want you to know i'm sorry."

"satoru-"

"-and i know that and if you want to punch me or kick me to the curb that's also completely fine. i won't blame you i pro-" he's suddenly cut off by the tug of his t-shirt and the feeling of soft, warm lips, your lips, against his as he falls into an awe-struck silence. your lips part from his and he already feels that he's gone on for too long without them.

you smile at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly and he can feel all of the regret that was eating him alive before melting away, like fallen snow when the spring sun makes its glorious return back to earth. "yes, i forgive you, you massive fool. you're definitely an idiot but you're my idiot."

he takes your hands in his and brings them up to his lips, whispering into them,

"that's right, i'm yours."

you know the phrase 'seeing is believing'? yeah, geto suguru thinks that's probably one of the dumbest phrases he's ever had the pleasure, or displeasure in this case, of hearing. there's a lot of things that you can't see but you can still believe in; an example would be gravity. you don't need to see it to know that it exists and believe in it so why is visual confirmation the default that people go to?

that is until he saw you in the arms of someone else and maybe, in that moment, he realised that the phrase might have more merit to it than he had originally placed on it.

honestly, you were already having an awful day. you had just barely the train to your work by the millisecond so you were left waiting around for 5 minutes before the next train came and much to your chagrin, you were left standing for the entirety of the 20-minute journey and had officially arrived at your workplace late.

to pile on to that, you remembered that you had very conveniently forgotten all of the things you needed to bring in for that very specific day and had to do the whole journey again to avoid incurring the wrath of your boss.

and the cherry on top? it was running into that co-worker that you hated with all your guts and getting their coffee spilt on your very nice white shirt, whether intentionally or unintentionally you'll deal with that issue later.

however, this left you with an embarrassing large stain right front and centre for the rest of the day until the universe decided to grant you a small mercy by having your other co-worker offer you a spare change of clothes which you gratefully accepted. as you did, you could feel the pointed stares of the other members of your workplace burning angry holes through your back which only left you with an unsettling feeling in your gut. albeit, you brushed it off quickly as you couldn't really linger on the issue.

it was always like this when you two interacted in both a friendly and professional capacity. the occasion or even context of the interaction didn't matter to the rest of them when all they saw was the office crush acting nice with you and you reciprocating this niceness to an extent that made them seethe with jealousy over the fact that it wasn't them.

maybe they should learn that they could get his respect by treating him as a person rather than an object to fawn over but again, that was a conversation for another day and they should have known that you only had eyes for one man, in the form of your boyfriend suguru, anyways.

suguru wasn't someone who was super public about his affection for you with grand displays of PDA, but what mattered to you and him was that he showed in ways that were important to both of you and that was enough.

that was why he found himself standing at the door of your workplace, a small bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand, waiting to surprise you and pick you up the moment you were done with your shift. he leans against the cool surface of the cement wall behind him and imagines the delighted look on your face when you see him there. his lips curve into a slight smile at that mental image.

he glances at the watch on his wrist, a present from you from a previous anniversary and one he treasured deeply as evidenced by the fact that there was barely a scratch on its glass shell, and silently counts down the minutes in his head. while lost in his own thoughts, he fails to notice a group of employees passing by him though he does manage to pick up bits and pieces of their fleeting conversation.

"can you believe them? throwing themself all over him like that?" one voice chides.

"i know right? it's like they have no shame at all." another adds bitterly.

"you know, it makes me think that there's something going on between them." and that earns them a chorus of agreement from their little group.

suguru pays them little mind though, believing it to be just simple office gossip that he could care less about unless it was coming from you, then he would be hooked on every single detail you fed him like his life depended on it. he hears footsteps from around the corner and notes an all-too-familiar giggle as the people emerge. it's you and he walks forward a bit more to see if he can spot you.

however, he's greeted with an awful sight. the source of your melodic laughter appears to be the man standing next to you and before you two part, he leans down to give you a hug, one that you seemingly receive with open arms. there's a sinking sensation at the bottom of his stomach when he watches the both of you linger for a second.

when you part, not before thanking your co-worker again for his kindness, you turn around and notice suguru standing a few metres in front of you. "sugu? what are you doing here?" you ask, pleasantly surprised by his sudden appearance and you light up with happiness at the sight of him. you stop in your tracks when you realise he hasn't made a single move to greet you.

the smile on your face drops slightly as your eyebrows furrow in concern for his strange stillness. you take a step closer towards him but he remains still as a statue. there's the sound of crumpled paper as his grip tightens around the bouquet that he's still holding.

you're both silent for a second before he speaks up.

"are you cheating on me?" though his question is straightforward, his tone is unsure.

he doesn't want to believe that you could be doing that but he can't help but draw his own conclusions about what he just saw, especially in light of the comments he overheard which now suddenly make sense if he looks at them from this newfound angle.

a look of betrayal flickers through your eyes at his words. there's an undeniable bitter aftertaste in his mouth that he can't swallow down.

"is that you really think this is?" there's a pained edge to your voice and you can feel an uncomfortable tightness around your throat as you try to fight back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"suguru, i would never do that! we're just co-workers, don't you believe me?" he doesn't look at you, choosing to actively avoid your gaze instead and you can feel yourself faltering as the grim reality of the situation dawns on you with solemn resignation.

"you know, suguru, i've had a really awful day today and this is not helping at all. i'm done with this. goodbye, suguru." and before he can say anything, you brush past him as you make your way to god knows where. as you walk off, he finally realises that the sinking feeling in his stomach is regret.

after you dissapear into the twisting streets, suguru is overwhelmed with this awful feeling of regret as he realises how rash he was in jumping to a conclusion that had no basis aside from some stupid off-handed comments he overheard and a hug that could very well just be only friendly and nothing more. all he can think about is apologising to you and hopefully finding a way back into your good graces again.

unfortunately for him, you've turned off your phone so he can't even call you to find out where you are but even if it was on, he doubts that you would even pick up and that is definitely deserved on his behalf. he stops and thinks to himself for a moment and decides to take a chance on the first place he can come up with.

thankfully, his gut is right and he finds you sitting on a grassy hill, your grassy hill with him, absent-mindedly plucking up strands of grass before discarding them. there's the sound of grass crunching underneath shoe soles as suguru takes his place next to you.

"what are you doing here, suguru?" you're not looking at him and he can feel a pang of pain in his chest.

"had a feeling you would be here."

you scoff half-heartedly. a shaky breath escapes your lips as you turn to him, your eyes are slightly red-rimmed and there's an unmistakable shimmery glean to your cheeks from your tears. another tug of his heart. "what do you want? because it seemed like you were pretty much done with me at that point."

"i want to apologise." there's a look of surprise on your face as you turn to him and he continues, his voice raw and vulnerable as he continues, "i want to say sorry for taking and not even listening to the most important side of the story, you. so please, and spare no details, tell me what happened today."

you pause for a second as if to consider his words and examine his sincerity, and then you nod and he can feel a sigh of relief leave him. as you relay to him the true details of your day, you notice how his expression becomes more and more apologetic as the facts of the story finally come to light.

he leans against your shoulders and envelops you in his arms. you reciprocate his touch, snaking your own arms around his waist and he sinks his head into the crook of your neck.

"i can't stress how sorry i am." his voice is muffled against your collarbone as you rest your chin upon his head. his hand finds yours and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"you know you have a lot to make up for right?" he looks up at you, violet eyes gazing into your own, and hums in agreement as he places a soft kiss against your hand.

"anything for you, angel."

nanami kento was a man who believed that it was his duty to silently bear all of the things that came his way, no matter the cost, and this made him someone that many people could always rely on which has earned him a similar reputation in many facets of his life. unfortunately, this benefit did not extend to his relationship.

you knew all this when you got into a relationship with him including his workaholic tendencies and so you were never too disappointed when a dinner for two would turn into a dinner for one.

even if they became more frequent, you would always be able to go to sleep with the knowledge that you would wake up next to a head of blonde hair and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist as the steady beat of your two hearts in sync filled the relative silence of your shared bedroom.

until, one day, you began to wake up cold and alone, lost within the expanses of the sheets without his arms there to tether you to a world with him by your side. the only shreds of evidence that he was actually there and not just a figment of your touch-starved imagination was the slight indent of the mattress left in his wake and a messily scribbled note which read 'woke up early for work, breakfast is in the fridge.' which felt just as cold and devoid of affection as the room you currently were in.

phone calls became less frequent as well and seeing kento in the flesh was more like trying to find a four-leafed clover in a field full of clovers. explanations were short and choppy and to you, they felt like simply a courtesy on his part rather than genuine truths.

with his presence fading even more and more from the apartment and your life, you couldn't help but start to wonder if there was more behind these excuses and perhaps, he had decided to move on from you and onto someone else. these worries even followed you from your waking hours into your dreams and so you made your mind up to stay up and wait for his return to finally confront him about his behaviour.

now sitting there at your kitchen table, fingers absent-mindedly drumming against the wood surface as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock and await his arrival. tick tock, tick tock. the sound of the clock echoes off the walls of the apartment.

there's an uncomfortable ball of anxiety gnawing at the insides of your stomach. if the truth didn't kill you, the waiting was definitely going to be the one to put the final nail in your coffin at this point.

much to your relief, or worst fears, there's a jangle of keys coming from outside the door and it soon cracks open to reveal a very tired and worn down kento as he makes his way into the apartment and begins to unload his belongings in the entryway. he's halfway through with removing his suit jacket when he finally notices you sitting there, stone-faced aside from your lips which you nervously bite at, and a worried sigh escapes him.

he makes his way towards you and takes a seat opposite from you. under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, you're able to get a much better look at him and while his hair is perfectly styled back as usual, there's an air of exhaustion radiating from him as you take note of the darkness of his eyebags and the seemingly permanent grimace that he sports, a far cry from the looks of domestic bliss that you would always be greeted with previously.

"what are you doing up so late, my love? you should be asleep by now or else you'll be tired tomorrow for work." his voice is full of concern for your well-being when it should be the least of his worries at this point with how burnt out he was. you're pretty sure that his cheekbones are more pronounced from the lack of full meals rather than simply his genetics.

a pang of guilt hits you in your gut, of course, he's still so fixated on you taking care of yourself when he clearly is the one who needs the advice even more, but you know that this needs to come out sooner or later. you steel yourself with a shaky breath.

"where have you been?" you ask, uncharacteristically cold. he can tell that there's something off with you but he chooses not to comment or push on it.

"i've been at work, trying to finish something for the higher-ups before tomorrow." his tone is straightforward and blunt and you can't tell if he's giving you a rehearsed answer or a truthful one.

you look down at your hands. "is that really all it is?"

"what do you mean?" his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you're not sure if this is genuine confusion or if he's just playing you for a fool.

you sigh, exhausted. you can feel the corners of your eyes start to burn with tears but you attempt to blink them away to the best of your ability. "i can't take these late nights and weak excuses anymore, kento. if there's someone else, i would rather you just say it."

he doesn't say anything and you grit your teeth as you solemnly accept that as his answer. you quickly stand up from your seat but before you can go anywhere, you're stopped in your tracks by the feeling of his calloused hands on your forearm.

"wait, please, dear-" he pleads softly.

"i'm done, kento." you cut him off before he can say anything else but he strides over to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

"love, please." he implores, his brown eyes full of sincerity as he tries his best to convince you to hear him out. "please, stay and let me explain, just for a minute and that's all." you don't pull away from his touch and he offers you a grateful smile.

"the late nights and overtime are to save some time off for a vacation. a vacation with you." before you could even open your mouth to speak, he silently stops you with a gentle caress to the cheek and manages to render you both speechless and breathless in a single move. "i know you're worried about me overworking myself so i wanted to surprise you and finally make my promises to you come true."

you're instantly hit with a sense of regret as you realise that your overthinking and fear might have cost you something so precious and at the thought of potentially having lost him, you can't help but throw yourself into his open embrace and bury your face into the rumpled fabric of his button up.

a soothing hand finds its way to your back as he attempts to comfort you. he's so good to you and sometimes you wonder if you really deserve it. "i'm sorry, ken. i shouldn't be jumping to conclusions and accusing you of such things." you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. "you've been nothing but kind and loving to me and all i can say is that i'm sorry."

"it's alright, my dear. i should be sorry as well. i shouldn't have been so guarded when you're asking even if it's for a surprise." he adds himself and then there's the fleeting warmth of his lips against your forehead before his arms tighten their grip around you as if to reassure you that he wasn't going anywhere.

"so you're not mad at me, kento?" you ask gingerly, glancing at his face to find a fond expression looking back down at you, not a single bit of anger or annoyance to be detected on any of his features.

"you, dear? i could never be angry at you."

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

HIIII OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING. Its so comforting but also quite accurate to the character’s personality.

I wondered if u could make a part 2 of Drunk, with Adrian and the reader.

Be free with your imagination i am sure it will turn out great!

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi anon, sorry it took me so long to answer but I had no ideas what to write for this request. 😳

My writing has changed a little since I wrote part 1 of this. Hopefully, it'll be still up to standard.

Days after the incident, Adrian was still haunted by the things he had said and might have said while inebriated. It seemed rather silly, considering you haven't mentioned anything about that night, kind as you were. However, the son of Dracula was shaken after exposing himself to you, in more ways than one.

At the memory of him practically showing his naked chest in your face whilst rambling drunkenly about his loneliness, he could feel his face warming up. He undoubtedly has that unflattering shade of pink on his right now. Adrian lifted his chin from his steepled fingers, pressing his forehead against them instead. Instead of moping behind the wooden table, he should be making dinner as he watched bits of dust dancing in the last rays of evening sun streaming through the Tudor windows.

At this moment, you're probably getting both their beds ready for the night. Pulling back the bedspread and making a fire in the fireplace. You made a habit of slipping a stem of lavender from the garden and putting it under the pillows. He can hear you fussing about it, even though you're one floor higher. The dhampir's senses were finely attuned to your every breath and every movement. It came to the point where it was torturous. He wasn't just trying to dull away the pain of his past, but these pressing feelings as well.

Damn him, again and again, he's becoming attached to people only to be left every time. No doubt you will leave too, once you're able to. He'll be nothing but a fond memory...

"How's the dinner? I hope there'll be someplace left on the stove for teap-"

He's dragged away from his gloomy thoughts by the sudden sound of your voice nearing the door. You stopped mid-sentenced when you saw him sitting at the kitchen table, instead of working at the stove. He felt an immediate pang of guilt.

"Apologies I've seem to be a bit addle-brained today."

Adrian offered an apology as he started pulling the cutlery from its hooks. Hopefully with his back turned and his hands occupied, you won't notice his rather obvious fluster.

"Ah, it's alright," you waved him off in a placating manner as you rounded the table towards him. "Head still spinning from the vine, I see." you teased him as he made a fire in the stove, almost making him set his brows on fire.

As you walked past him, you gently put your hand on his back to make him step away. A whisper of a touch, yet he was tingling all over, his heart beating irregularly.

He clutched the edges of the stove, ignoring the rising heat. It can't go on like this. He has to do something.

You prepared the dinner in relative silence. You chopped mushrooms as he prepared pastry into small pans. Soon, bulky savory tarts were pulled out of the stove. He watched you wolf down four tarts in the row, while his plate was left neglected, safe for the few pokings with the fork.

"Adrian?"

His head snapped to you at the sound of your voice. He noticed you were looking at him in concern.

"What is it? You've been spaced out for days now." It was your turn to study your plate as you mumbled, "Is it...about the kiss?"

He was definitely blushing now. Adrian took a generous gulp of water from his chalice as he contemplated his answer.

"Yes and no."

You looked at him in confusion and he sighed in resignation.

"I'm sorry...my friend. The thing is..." He caressed the grooves in the ground glass. Would she even understand? What kiss meant to him?

"There have been several attempts in my life. There have been people who stayed in this castle pretending to be my friend and then turning on me as soon as I became vulnerable."

Adrian closed his eyes momentarily, chasing away the tainted memory of their hands coiling around him like vines of a poisonous plant. The pleasure, and the pain. So, so much pain... He opened his eyes and there were your eyes, filled with some much tenderness he had to suppress the urge to look away again.

"But last night, you didn't... and you could, easily so."

"I'd never-"

"I know, I know," he gently cut you off by putting his hand over yours. Your palm was much warmer than his, dainty fingers covered completely by his long ones.

"Believe it or not, but you singlehandedly restored a great deal of my hope in humanity. What once had been destroyed..."

He hasn't allowed his mind to wander to dark places, not this time.

"I don't mean to bring up such depressing subjects. But when one leads a life such as mine, you tend to... figure some things out."

"Things?" You carefully prompted, pity overrun by curiosity at last.

Adrian smiled in a self-deprecating fashion. "Well, for example, I have now discovered that in this entire world, I only have one close friend. You are my only solace, the only person that I can talk to regularly."

There was Trevor and Sypha, of course, but they found solace in one another, something deeper than friendship. Adrian understood now, what those feelings meant. His next words were full of emotion.

"I don't know what tomorrow will bring. I don't know if more demons will come and I'll be forced to fight them off. I don't know if the world will end tomorrow... and that used to not bother me. I used to not mind the idea of death. To slip into the quiet sleep..."

He trailed off, and you squeezed his fingers in encouragement. He squeezed yours right back, so you know he's not spiraling again.

"However, whatever courage I have towards that cause always sours at the thought of what comes after. What does come after do you think?"

You looked over his shoulder in contemplation, you traveled places far away from here, no doubt. Thankful you're entertaining his silly musings, Adrian patiently awaits your response.

"I'd like to think it's a place where I meet all my loved ones once more." You gave him a warm smile.

He chuckles at that. "Interesting response."

"What about you? What do you think?"

Adrian shook his head, golden locks tumbling over his shoulders, "As I said, the fear of not knowing that is the only thing that kept me alive for quite some time. But now, now that I've spent some time with you, it allowed me to clear my mind of that sort of dangerous thought. I think I may have an answer, maybe not a very good one but..."

He gingerly trails his hand from yours to the curve of your elbow and you let him. He leans closer, tone bordering on a soft whisper as he looks into your eyes.

"It doesn't matter what comes next, that shouldn't dictate our actions while we are still here. If you want something, chase it." He puts the other hand on your cheek, making his intentions clear with his actions and his words. Carefully, so you can pull away at any time.

Please don't.

"You have allowed me, to come to this mindset," he sighs. "The thought that what I want is worthwhile to pursue. So I will pursue that which I want. I will pursue... you."

It is evident that his words left you speechless. You stare at him with your mouth slightly parted. Adrian lets out a small breathless chuckle.

Is it really that shocking? After our lips have already become acquainted?

"I know...I know that I'm... half human, half vampire, so at the very least I know it can work, but it's up to you, really." His thumb caressed your cheekbone, "I will continue to pursue you for as long as you allow me."

He can see your eyes glistening with emotion, and he hoped his words touched the part of your soul he wanted them to. However you still haven't said a word and Adrian needs you to voice your desires, or lack thereof, directly.

"I bid you command me now. My devotion is solely placed at your feet. I truly cherish you. Every step you take and breath you breathe."

You close your eyes and choke back a sob as he places one small kiss on your forehead.

With a voice clogged up with emotion, you finally release him from his torment.

"I... would love... nothing more... than to be pursued by you." You say as you give him a watery smile.

He lets out a relieved sigh as he presses his forehead to yours.

"Then pursue you I shall."

It takes only a moment for the atmosphere to change around you. With hunger, you never saw in his eyes, he whispers to you hoarsely.

"Come here, you..."

The kiss is devoid of any sweetness the first one had. This one is full of fire and blood and passion that takes your breath away. You don't have time to react as he pulls you to his lap. His kiss goes down your throat and settles in your belly like a fine liquor.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hey! Can I request another Price x daughter!reader? Something fluff. Thank you, I love your stories so much.

English is not my first language, so sorry haha

Ducky Socks

PAIRING: John Price x Daughter!Reader

SYNOPSIS: It's your father's birthday, and what better way to celebrate than to go on a hike before giving him the gift he told you not to buy?

WORDCOUNT: 1.5k

WARNINGS: None, just fluff!

A/N: Don't apologize, Anon, your English is perfect! Enjoy!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When the trees peeled back overhead, you would get glimpses of a pure blue sky, fluffy white clouds seemingly picturesque. Smiling, you look back down to the trail as sweat passes like a tear-drop over your temple; delicate puffs of air escaping your mouth. 

“You alright?” Your father's gruff voice echoes in your ear, briefly shattering the atmosphere of bird calls and the crunch of branches underfoot. “We can take a break if you need it.”

Turning to your right you scoff and roll your eyes. Brown brows raise in amusement, John’s bearded face peeling up in a small teasing smile.

“No,” your tone is breathless, but stubbornness infects your bones. “What makes you think that?” 

“Well, Sweetheart, you’re just about runnin’ me off the trail.” You blink and look down again, seeing that your legs had gone so shaky that they’d forced you over into your father’s path, nearly bumping into him with every other step. 

Heat rises to your cheeks before you complain, “It’s not like everyone can go fifteen miles without getting tired!” 

John snorts at the exaggeration, shaking his head before one of his hands hits your shoulder, steering you off to the side where two large boulders look like they’d make good seats. 

“Easy, then.” You huff and let off breathy chuckles, hopping up on one while your father leans on the other. He slings the backpack off his shoulders and sets it on the ground as you take large breaths, skin all clammy and lungs burning. Your body aches, but it's a good kind of pain. 

It’s your father’s birthday today, and for the first time in two years, he’s home for it. John hums as he digs down into his pack, peeling out a canteen of water for you. “Here,” he utters, tossing it lightly to you as your hands snatch to catch it. “Go on.”

You make a face. “If this is the one you bring on deployment, I think I’d rather find a stream.”

John’s eyes crease, crossing his arms and looking at you with an amused exasperation that had become natural with you. The man’s shoulders are loose, and not an ounce of sweat was on him.

“And why’s that?” 

“Someone’s probably fucking pissed in it.” A bark of a laugh shatters the air and you smile widely as your father’s top bends with hitches in his lungs. Like the picture of a dad, his hand comes up to itch at his beard, rubbing over his chin. 

“What in the hell are you on about? Nobody’s bloody pissed in it, Sweetheart.”

“I’ve heard stories,” you grumble with a smirk, untwisting the canteen and flipping the lid off as you look inside teasingly before you brave a small sniff. 

“Just fuckin’ drink the thing, you little brat.” John rolls his eyes, smiling as he elbows your knee. “There’s nothing in it ‘cept water. Hand it here when you’re done, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” chuckling, you place the lip to your mouth and tilt it back, enjoying the cool liquid as it sets in your stomach. After a few sips, you wipe your face with your jacket sleeve and breathe in the scents of the dirt. 

As you hand the canteen back, your father hums as thanks and takes his own swig. He glances over when you ask easily, “Is hiking really all you want to do for your birthday?” Your voice dips, “C’mon, you only turn ninety once, Old Man.”

John gives a fake glare and licks the water droplets from his lips, grunting in exaggerated annoyance before he twists the lid of his canteen back on; grabbing the backpack to stuff it inside. 

“You’re a damn horror.” You laugh. “And for your information, Love, yes, I only want to be out ‘ere with my little girl. It’s quiet—need to do this more often.” Itching at your cheek, you coo aloud and hear John grunt, “Least it was quiet.” 

“Rude,” jumping off the rock, you steady your feet; feeling much better after your drink and small break. “How much farther to the top?” 

Your father pushes off and swings his pack over one shoulder, palm connecting with the top of your head as he ruffles your hair before you can shove him off of you—bringing you into the clutch of his side. Gigging, you pointlessly shove at him before you give up and walk beside him. 

John smiles wide and glances down at you fondly.

“Not long. We’ll get there.” He leans down close, muttering into your scalp. “And I’m not bloody old.” 

Laughing, the two of you continue on your hike, a hidden object in the small rucksack over your back.

—

“Finally!” You call out, shoving past a bush out to the top of the large hill that sits at the end of the trail, hands eager. Staring out over the lush and expansive landscape, you let out a deep breath before wiping your hands on your pants. 

Looking behind you, your father grunts as he comes into view, itching at his head. When he stares off into the late afternoon sun, he smiles slowly and easily; content in every way possible. 

“Well, would you look at that?” He comes over and chuckles, happiness in the lines on his face, and clasps your shoulder. “Brilliant, eh?” 

You beam, staring into his eyes as your own glint playfully. John’s brows furrow in slight confusion. 

Grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt, you drag him with you to a small bench on a plot of packed dirt, giddiness shoving in your smile as you tell him to sit down.

“Hurry up!” 

“What’s she done now?” John mutters with a grunt before a thought lights in his mind like a trail of crumbs. Blue eyes flare. “Sweetheart…” he draws, “I swear if you’ve got something in that pack of yours—”

“Shh!” You hiss, sitting down beside him and slipping your bag open. Your father deadpans at you with an unimpressed look. 

Admittingly, he had told you not to get him anything for his birthday, but when you’d seen this…well…you’d just bought it because it felt right. Plus you were obviously going to buy your father a gift, even if he hated that sort of thing. 

He deserved it. 

“Christ,” John grumbles, itching at the base of his neck as you peel out a wrapped little box; shoving it into his lap as he startles to grab it quickly before it falls to the floor. 

“Open it!” Excitement bleeds into your voice as your father sighs long, even as his heart fills with warmth. 

“How much did it cost?” He tries to say, but your face changes instantaneously to a raised-brow annoyance. John splays his hands, sitting up straighter, “Alright, alright, I’m opening it, then.” 

Pulling at the wrappings, your father peels the top off of the tiny box when the paper is far enough displaced, but he stalls when he sees the fabric under all of the material. Blinking, he stares for a moment before his hand delves inside to grasp and pull out the item.

You stifle your giggles with the back of your hand, eyes crinkled with humor. 

“What’s…?” John tilts his head before he realizes. 

He was holding a large pair of teal-colored socks, but that wasn’t what really got to him. Stationary in all of their glory was the imprint of many, many rubber duckies, each one wearing a fishing hat atop its head like a trophy. 

John’s own body fights with him as small snorts exit his lips, having to catch them as you had with the top of his wrist before his shoulders start shaking. As a tiny breeze goes by atop the hill, the both of you laugh with burning faces; the sounds echoing with a promise of nostalgia in the future. 

After a moment, John takes a deep breath and forces out, “Bloody hell, girl. Where did you buy these things?”

“I never tell,” you level, giggles still entering the sky as your father wraps a hand around your shoulder and brings you into a tight side hug. 

“Y’know, these aren't half bad, now, yeah?” Chapped lips press to the top of your head as you hug him back the best you’re able, heart wrapped in a blanket. “I’ll have to show the boys. They’ll get a right kick out of ‘em.” 

“You like them, then?” You ask, leaning into him and watching him run a finger over the fabric. 

“Like them? They’re brilliant, Sweetheart.” He squeezes you, “Thank you.”

“Well,” you sigh, “then I guess it was worth the hike up here.” Looking out over the land, John hums and rubs your arm. Happy. “Happy birthday, dad.”

“Wouldn’t be half as good without you, Love. Thanks for coming out with me.” You breathe softly and elbow his side as he chuckles. 

“You’re getting sappy with your old age.” Again a swift groan and a tight squeezing of his arm.

“I’m not bloody old!”

“Tell that to the sound your knees make when you try to get off the couch.”

“Fuckin’ hell!”

Let's just say that when Price showed back up at work, ducky socks worn with authoritative pride, Johnny made a personal request for you to find some with bar soaps on them.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[itsphoenix0724]

could i please request a part two to the az x reader, but now she confronts rhysand?

Hold Me Gently (Azriel x Reader)~ Bonus Chapter!

Warnings: mentions of negative self-talk, depression

Word Count: 1k

Hold Me Gently

A/N: Hi Anon! Thank you for requesting, I appreciate the visit to my inbox! I wasn't ever really planning on writing a part 2, so I called this a bonus chapter because it's not essential to the main story. I hope you enjoy it, and feel free to come again <3 as always constructive criticism is welcome! I wrote this very quickly so it's not edited I apologize!

The River House lawn shook when your feet finally touched the perfectly manicured yard. You had waited until Azriel was finally asleep in your bed before you had come, he might try to stop you, but you’d given yourself a pretty damn good headstart. Your power throws open the doors with a blast of unrestrained energy, and it’s Feyre who sees you first as she runs down the stairs. 

“What’s wrong?” Your High Lady asks concern filling her eyes as she attempts to cup your jaw. You hold her at arm's length. This isn’t a battle she’s a part of. 

“Ask your mate,” you growl back, venom filling every inch of your veins as you tear past her heading right for Rhys’s office. If he wasn’t there you’d bring the entire house down around you to find him. Feyre looks after you in shock, probably mentally reaching out to Az to ask what was wrong. Or maybe she warned Rhys your fury was coming fast because he’s sitting at his desk like the picture of ease. 

“What can I do for you?” Rhys purrs from behind his desk, he’s put on his High Lord mask today. If this was how he wanted to play so be it. 

“Do you enjoy hurting your family?” That clearly wasn’t the question Rhys thought you were going to ask as his eyebrows raised in shock. “Or are you just that intentionally blind that you refuse to see what you’re doing to Azriel?” A dark glint lights in Rhy’s eyes as he leans forward, the picture of a calm perfect predator. 

“And what, pray tell, am I doing to Azriel?” He sends a wave of night-kissed power your way, trying to bank the rising flames in your chest. The authority almost makes you want to cave, but you hold strong. 

“So I suppose we’re going with intentionally blind then?” The flames rise higher, the ash threatening to drown your lungs. “You know that his work is harming his health, and yet you continue to use your brother as a weapon anyway.” Red clouds your vision at the lack of reaction from Rhysand, you might get violent quickly if it continues on like this. Feyre bursts through the door a minute later, coming to rest on the arm of Rhys’s chair. 

“Azriel doesn’t know you’re here.” She says it matter of factly and you nod. “We make decisions in this court together, that rage should be equally targeted at me,” Feyre says with finality but that doesn’t make it true. 

“Feyre, with all due respect. You are not equals in this.” both of them blink back in surprise and Rhys looks ready to rage war. Good, now he finally knows how you feel. “It’s nothing against you, but you are still a new member of this court. Rhys has known Azriel for 500 years, and you have been here for five, it is not the same. There are still things you don’t know about this family. You didn’t grow up with Az, you don’t know him like he does. You are my High Lady, and I will always love you, but you have no ground in this.” Feyre settles, opens her mouth to say something, and then closes it again before nodding at you to continue, moving to sit in the armchair beside the bookcase. You settle your hands on the desk looking at Rhys like you want to sever his head from his body as you address him again. “You continue to treat Azriel like something to be used, you know how he feels after every mission, and yet you order him to continue anyway. You know that it makes him feel worthless, and I’m here to say that enough is enough. You don’t get to turn a blind eye anymore because if it doesn’t directly affect you or Feyre you choose to ignore it.” 

“Azriel swore an oath to this court. He knew what the position entailed.” Rhysand states calmly, rising to meet your eyes. 

“He made that oath 300 years ago when he was barely a young adult. Things do change over long periods of time whether or not you want them to.” You scoff, raising your eyebrow and leaning closer into his space. Even as you see the temper rising in his eyes you won’t stop until Rhys sees what he’s been doing to his brother even if you say something that might get you exiled from this court. “What? Going to send me on a week-long hike now because I’m telling the truth?” The dig is obvious and dark power starts to pulse in a way that makes your knees want to buckle. You refuse to sit, this is your mate you’re defending. 

“As his High Lord, he does this court a great service. If he has an issue he can come to me himself.” Rhys snarls out. Feyre looks like she’s readying herself to jump in between the two of you if need be. 

“As his brother, you should care more about Az than any service he does for this court. If you want someone tortured, get off your ass and do it yourself instead.” You challenge and Rhys is rearing up to say something again before you hold a hand out. “Look what you’re doing to him if you don’t believe me.” Rhys grabs your hand and you show him Azriel after his latest mission, pouring every ounce of self-hatred you felt from Az into the memory. Rhysand yanks his hand away and finally sits back down when Azriel himself finally throws open the doors to the office. 

“I came as soon as you called,” He looks at Feyre who nods back at him. Rhys just stares at his brother, and Azriel’s eyes dart back to you as you give him a sheepish wave. You only feel remorse for the dark circles under his eyes, and for having his sleep interrupted. “What’s going on?” Rhys clears his throat, rubbing his hands together before speaking again. 

“It’s come to my attention that I’ve been neglecting your mental health, and for that, I’m so sorry.” Rhys nods at Azriel, silver rimming his violet eyes. “Take some time off, and we can reevaluate when you get back.” Azriel widens his eyes, a look of understanding passing between the both of them. You turn to leave when Rhys calls your name, “Thank you for telling me.” You nod and take your mate home so he can finally get some well-deserved rest.

[chrisevansonly]

Uhhh hiii!!!🥺

Can we get some fluff protective bf Chris when you (the reader) hurts yourself after Chris scared you? (Nothing big just like a scratch or sprain?)🥺🥺🥺

Just A Bruise

pairing: chris evans x female reader

summary: prank wars are usually fun and games until someone ends up with a little bump…

warnings: none really, minor injury, very sweet chris

a/n: hi lovely anon, thank you for requesting!! i’m getting back into my inbox finally, i know i’ve been slacking with that recently, so I apologize! i’m going to try and work through that, and I might do a harry blurb to this too cause i found this request v sweet<3

Anyone that knew Chris knew he was an avid prankster from videos with his brother, to his friends and other family members, so naturally you were more than aware that he would more than likely get you in on his antics. You were quite a calm person, usually sticking to yourself and your work most days, Chris always loving that softness you added to your shared home, but deep down he loved how easy it was to scare the absolute shit out of you.

There were few times where you weren’t having it, whether it be after a bad day or if you were under stress with a deadline for work, but today probably topped the times he probably should not have scared you.

He was lucky you were as forgiving as you were.

After finishing up some much needed files before you took 3 weeks vacation to travel some of Europe with Chris and his family. In retrospect you should have realized your missing boyfriend was up to something when the house was too quiet, because although there was always a certain sombreness to the house, Chris still managed to fill it with noise.

“Chris?”

Huffing softly you walked down the stairs and moved towards the living room, he was still nowhere to be found, up until you turned past the couch and he jumped out from behind it yelling

“Boo!”

He laughed as you screamed, a hand coming up to your chest but that soon stopped after you tripped backwards on the corner of the love seat and landed straight on your hip, hitting the corner of the coffee table

“ow ow ow”

You lay flat on the floor a mixture of laughing and crying because honestly you were in some pain

“Fuck..honey-y/n you okay?”

“I hate you.”

He knew you were joking but he couldn’t help but kneel next to you, his hands holding your face gently as he wiped some of the tears away

“I’m so sorry baby, really are you okay?”

Blinking up at him you nodded

“My hip hurts, but i’m fine”

Chris helped you up his features full of regret as he watched you wince, his hand moving to check your hip noting the deep black and purple bruise that was beginning to form

“Here, sit on the couch i’ll get you some ice”

“Chris i’m-”

“Please..”

You could see how bad he felt, and despite it being an accident you did as he told, settling yourself down onto the couch waiting for him to bring you some ice. Moments later he’d brought over some water, an ice pack and a few snacks for you

“Here…got some snacks, water and some ice for your hip”

You smiled patting the spot next to you

“Thank you my love, it was an accident you know, I forgive you”

“I still hurt you”

Letting out a quiet laugh you leaned over to press a kiss to his cheeks

“Chris baby, I love you, it was an accident, maybe let’s take a break from the pranks…at least until my hip isn’t falling off?”

That got a laugh out of Chris which made you feel a bit better knowing he really did feel bad for hurting you

“I love you too, I can do that..no more pranks”

Did you really think he’d be able to hold off on the no pranking rule until your hip felt better? No, but you had some of your own tricks up your sleeve, and maybe the hurt hip would come in handy more than you thought it would.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Helloooo I just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! I always look forward to your posts, they just make my day! When I‘m feeling down they cheer me up and when I‘m in high spirits they make me even happier. So keep up the good work :3

Btw I‘d also like to request the Lookism boys reacting to them accidentically hurting their S/O (especially Jake and Goo, I just love them) 🥹

If you don‘t want to it’s fine! I also just wanted to tell you I really appreciate your writing🫶🏻 Thx!

~Your fan

Hi Anon! SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY. I know it's been a while. Thank you so much for your kind words omg 🥹 your words are also a wonderful pickmeup for me too. I will work harder to keep making the most of this fixation with these silly boys 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ And don't worry, as long as I keep putting out bullshit for Lookism, there will always be some Jake and Goo cos they are my faaaaaves.

Accidentally hurting S/O: Goo, Jake, Gun, Samuel, Vin

Neither of you ever go full force in your spars together. The intent was to improve, not maim.

However, seeing a gap in your defensive stance, their right fist jabs out. Quick as lightning, hitting you in the ribcage.

Which you usually would be able to tank, except.

Fucking liver shot.

All your focus and drive is knocked out with that one hit. You're breathless, trying desperately to stay standing-

Goo x Reader

"Princess?"

Goo raises his eyebrows, a smirk gracing his features. It's not the first time you've manipulated him and then punched him as soon as he was within reach. No chance is he falling for it again.

At the sound of your whimpers, and pathetic sight of you head down, clutching your side, Goo finally backs down.

Surely he didn't hit you that hard, right? He thought you were much sturdier than that especially with all the trash talk coming out of your mouth.

"Cupcake, you ok?" The mirth isn't entirely gone from his voice, but he tilts your face up towards him and gasps at the tears in your eyes.

"My little baby! Did I hurt you?" his fingers come up to wipe the tears from your cheeks, "I didn't know you were so weak. Such a delicate little flower, my buttercup. I didn't even try, and you couldn't withstand that? My sweet darling."

Your tears dry quickly when you hear his words. More gloating than concern. "You asshole, that was a cheap shot."

"If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen, sweetheart."

"Asshole," you repeat as he cackles like a hyena.

"C'mon," Goo gives you a loud obnoxious smooch on the forehead for your troubles, "Let your Goo bear look after you today."

Jake Kim x Reader

Jake realised the impact before you did. Already too late for his fist to change course and resulting in your face crumpling up in pain.

"Shit!" his hands come up, gingerly assessing the area and eyes frantically searching yours, "Y/N, are you ok?"

"No," you squeak out and Jake has never felt such panic before. Is that his life flashing before his eyes?

And then when your eyes well up with tears, lip starting to quiver, Jake feels his soul departing his body.

Shitshitshit-

The apologies tumble out.

Of course, you can't blame him. Accidents are a natural byproduct of sparring. Jake suffered a sprained ankle not too long ago, and you still can't bend your left middle finger fully.

You regain your breath as his hands rove all over to check for any other injuries. Needing to touch you and feel that you're still fine.

"Jake?" You interrupt his worried movements.

"Hmm?"

Probably an inopportune moment, yet even through the pain, it warms your heart seeing how much Jake cares about you. "Love you."

Oh. Jake wasn't expecting that. That's what you give him after a liver shot? You really are too adorable for words.

With a soft smile, he tells you he loves you too.

Gun Park x Reader

Clearly unimpressed, Gun watches you.

With anyone else, he would have called them pathetic, worthless and a waste of his time.

But with you, it's not time wasted. He would rather be with you, than not at all. Which he finds difficult to admit. That fact at complete odds with his drive and his self. A personal weakness he is willing to overlook.

From the offset, Gun could see there was zero possibility of you becoming his masterpiece. Simply put, you didn't have the body nor talent nor skill. When you first asked him to start sparring with you though, he acquiesced. Frankly, has he ever even said no to you.

You chance a peek at your boyfriend. Already you are expecting a look of disappointment, instead you see his retreating back, leaving you alone.

Tears spring to your eyes and you drop your head in shame. Damn, this hurts. You're no match for Gun, no match for most people really. Still, you've been trying to improve.

As you wallow, a blanket is wrapped around your shoulders. In the blink of an eye, Gun hoists you into an effortless bridal carry, calling you an idiot.

You know his words have no bite, his actions speak far louder.

Arms wrapping around his neck, the pain subsides as you nuzzle him.

Samuel Seo x Reader

Samuel feels it in his superiority complex first, always bubbling away and too deeply ingrained for anything else.

Incapacitating an opponent, dominating them, proving that he is better.

Followed quickly by fuck. This isn't an opponent. Not really. It's you.

"Y/N?" he holds you by the shoulders and you lean into it, your legs too weak to hold you up.

Samuel's eyes cloud with worry when you let out a feeble groan.

"Come on," he picks you up, maneuvering you into a fireman's lift with grace and you with anything but. Ass in the air, hair flopping down, still feeling waves of pain.

Samuel faintly recalls his packed calendar for the rest of his day. Meetings upon meetings. Calls and face-to-faces with vendors and investors and corporate fucks who can barely form a thought between them without a brainstorming meeting and a presentation.

"Ughhh Sammy I feel like shit," you gurgle from behind him, and that is all it takes for him to wipe his schedule clean.

None of it matters.

He'll be spending the rest of the day with you instead.

Vin Jin x Reader

Vin nudges you with his foot, "Get up."

In the end, your legs had crumpled beneath you until you're flat on the floor, hands clutched to your throbbing side.

At your lack of response, Vin tries again. "Get up you pussy."

Vin is Vin. An asshole to the end.

"Go away," your voice is weak, barely reaching his ears.

He squats down and squints through his shades, trying to get a closer look at what the hell is wrong with you. He barely even touched you.

"Yeesh, are you really this weak? You're no fun."

You can't bring yourself to say anything to that, just throwing a glare at him. So venomous that you hope it penetrates those stupid sunglasses and into his soul.

"Whatever, if this is what we're doing now." As if he wasn't the cause of your predicament, Vin lets out a melodramatic sigh and lies down beside you.

"You're such a loser," he says, even as he shuffles close, carefully positioning your head on his shoulder and pulling your body to his.

[actiniumwrites]

NOTHING LEFT TO SAY

synopsis: after an argument with albedo in his lab, you storm off while albedo is left with regret over the words he said to you. wanting nothing more than to take back what he said, albedo sets out to apologize to you. unfortunately, it seems as though everything is getting in the way of him doing so

or, in other words, the three times albedo tried to apologize to you, and the one time he actually did

based on this request!

characters: albedo x gn!reader

wc: 4.7k

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, arguments, a tiny bit of swearing, descriptions of injuries and blood (not caused during the argument), established relationships, albedo is probably a bit ooc at times

notes: to the anon that sent this request to me, i am so sorry it took me around 5 months to actually write this request! i never meant for it to take this long, but i swore i would write it and i made sure i did. honestly i just wanted to make sure it was out before the year was over because i really liked the idea and didn’t want you to have to wait any longer. i hope you enjoy this <3

“I need another beaker,” Albedo said in his ever so monotonous voice.

Your eyes glanced hurriedly around the lab, “Albedo? We’re out of beakers. You used all of them.”

An annoyed sigh left Albedo’s lips for what had felt like the millionth time that afternoon. Coincidentally, it was also the first time he had looked at you all afternoon. You weren’t sure what was bothering him, but it was clear it was not something he wanted to talk about. Unless, of course, it was just one of those days where everything seems to piss him off. It could’ve been either of the two, and it was impossible to know which.

Albedo’s eyes left yours as he turned to look through his cabinets. A slight slamming sounded out after he shut each one with a little more pressure than usual. Frustration was running through his veins. It was just as you said, there really were no beakers left.

“Albedo? Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, “You know if you ever want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

Albedo sighed again, “No, I’m fine. Let’s just continue working.”

“No, Albedo, I —” the crashing of glass rung out through the air, cutting you off from speaking. In your attempt at finding out what was wrong, your hands had begun moving with your words and soon enough they knocked a beaker full of chemicals onto the floor. Silence was what remained.

It had been nearly a full minute before either of you spoke again. You were too shocked and Albedo was far too calm looking for you to tell what he had been thinking. Soon enough, you realized that the chemicals that were now puddling on the floor were ones imported from Natlan. It had taken him an entire six months to obtain them.

“Get out.” Albedo said calmly.

“Wait, Albedo- I’m sorry! I know those took you forever to get, but I’ll fix it. I swear. Archons, I’m so sorry!”

Albedo’s icy blue eyes finally met yours for the second time that afternoon, “What don’t you understand? I said get out. I don’t need someone like you hanging around me if all you’re going to do is ruin my experiments.”

“Someone like…me? Albedo, I’m your lover. I’m not just— just some random person or your assistant or your intern or whatever! You don’t get to treat me like that,” you angrily spoke, “If you want me gone, then fine. I’m leaving. Don’t bother trying to find me — If you even care, that is.”

Those were the last words you had said to him before you stormed off. Albedo didn’t feel human emotions like every one else, but he was sure what he was feeling right about now was regret. He didn’t mean what he said to you. Dammit, he loved you — Albedo was sure of that. Now all he had done was ruin that too.

Apology Attempt #1: One Day After The Argument

Albedo sighed as he fiddled with the pen in his hand. Staring down at his papers for hours hadn’t been what he intended to do today, but he just couldn’t focus. It was cold in his lab, just as it always was. But today was different. The air felt different. Albedo was used to the cold, but not in the way it was when you were gone.

It was hard for him to admit it, but Albedo just isn’t the same when you’re not around. The way you encourage him makes him feel all warm inside — a feeling he doesn’t quite understand, but welcomes regardless. He feels more like himself, more at home.

So why did he have to go and ruin it?

Albedo’s eyes shut tightly and he let his head slump dramatically against his desk, disrupting the papers among the top of it. Normally, he’d get upset at such disorganized actions, but today he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was able to get any work done anyway.

“Albedo!” a high pitched voice run out in his lab following the sound of the door opening. Albedo begrudgingly spun his chair and opened his eyes, a fake smile on his face.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke softly. Although he didn’t have the energy to deal with her today, the alchemist couldn’t possibly push her away.

“Oh…where’s Y/n?”

Albedo fought the urge to wince at your name, forgetting that Klee was unaware of his regrettable argument with you, “They aren’t here right now, Klee. Is there something you needed them for?”

“No, but you’re always with Y/n. It’s weird that they aren’t here.” Albedo’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the little elf’s words. Was he really around you that much?

“It’s complicated right now, Klee. You see, I said something I never should have said and I hurt their feelings. I’m just trying to figure out a way to fix it and then they’ll be back, okay?”

“Oh! Oh! I know! You should get them flowers! Y/n loves flowers!” Klee said as she jumped up and down excitedly. A small smile cracked onto Albedo’s face at her excitement.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try. Thank you, Klee.”

Klee was gone soon after with Jean pulling her away. Albedo had taken that as his chance to go out to pick some flowers for you up on Starsnatch cliff. The wind had blown them around, but the Cecilia’s he had picked were as beautiful as ever. They were your favorite flowers, one of his favorite facts about you — mostly because they were his favorite flowers too, something you had bonded over when the two of you had first met. Albedo smiled to himself when he remembered the bouqet he had gotten for you on your first date and the way you smiled when you saw them in his hand. The painting he had done of you later that night still remained in his lab up on Dragonspine. It was a moment he never wanted to forget.

Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t much of a flowers guy, but he would make an exception for you. Only now, he hoped the flowers would hold the same amount of love in them even when they were followed by an apology.

When he had returned to Mondstadt’s gates, flowers in hand and apology replaying throughout his head, Albedo set out to find you.

Luckily for him, it hadn’t taken long at all. As soon as he had walked toward Good Hunter, he had spotted you sitting at a table. Sitting around you were some of your guys’ coworkers and friends, Eula and Amber. There was plenty of food at the table, Amber was talking excitedly while Eula had an unusually bright smile on her face, and your eyes were creased as boisterous laughter fell from your lips.

The fondness in the alchemist’s eyes seemed to slip away as they made their way back to the neatly tied bouquet of Cecilia’s in his hand. Albedo looked to you again before looking back to his flowers. His hands clenched around them tightly as his mind fought back and forth.

Dammit, he thought. Truthfully, Albedo wasn’t sure what your reaction to seeing him would be and there was no way he was going to ruin your outing.

Albedo’s eyes were glued to the floor as he dreadfully turned and walked away from you, flowers still in hand and hung loosely by his side. At any moment, he felt they would slip and fall from his grip.

And by the time he got back to the Knights’ headquarters, the sunset faded into darkness and the clouds had moved in to cover the night’s moon. As he walked in, he was immediately met with the sight of Klee waiting in the corridor with her backpack all packed up for the day.

“Albedo!” She cheered when she saw him.

“Hi, Klee,” he spoke tiredly, “Is Jean about to take you home?”

“Yep!” Klee said happily before her eyes wandered to the flowers in his hands, “Are those for, Y/n?”

Albedo looked to the flowers in his hands before kneeling down in front of Klee, “They were, but uh — Y/n couldn’t take them today.”

“Awww, so Klee’s idea didn’t work?” Klee frowned.

Albedo sighed as he thought of what to say to cheer her up. The small fake smile he had shown to her earlier returned to his face once more, “No, but that’s okay. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I gave them to you.”

“Really? Thank you, brother!” Klee jumped as she hugged him. Albedo laughed softly as he returned the hug. At least he was able to make someone happy today.

Apology Attempt #2: Three Days After The Argument

Day after day, everything was beginning to feel the same. An endless blur of work and experiments. Albedo just wanted you back and it had only been three days. It wasn’t that you were ignoring him, really. It just seemed like the circumstances never seemed to line up for the two of you. The fact that you guys didn’t live together certainly didn’t help.

Albedo glanced at his clock again for the first time in hours. It was nearly five in the afternoon now and Albedo had been so concentrated on finishing his experiment papers that he hadn’t even realized how late it had gotten.

Staring down at his papers, Albedo studied their contents. He wasn’t usually one to look at his work and think, “Good enough,” but tonight it would just have to do. The words on them looked rushed, scribbles almost. The lines between words seemed to blur together like watercolor, rendering them barely legible. But even so, Albedo grouped them together carefully into their assigned folder and set them aside for tomorrow.

The bag the young alchemist usually carried to work was hung by his side once again as he exited the door to his office. Turning behind him, he locked it haphazardly. To be honest, he wasn’t sure he completely locked it, but he wasn’t in the mood to care either. It was incredibly unlikely anyone would try to break into a Knight’s office anyway.

Albedo tried to tune out those in the corridor around him on his way out, but it was just no use. Why was it so busy tonight anyway? He certainly did not know and it wasn’t like he cared either. It didn’t look important so he had no use to bother with it. Keeping his eyes turned to the floor, Albedo carefully pushed around a few people before he got to the door. But before he could even reach for the door handle, a hand was placed on his shoulder followed by the sound of his name.

“Albedo?” the familiar voice of the librarian spoke, “I thought that was you. How come you’re leaving so early? I was hoping to catch you a little later if I’m being honest. Didn’t expect you to be on your way out so soon.”

Albedo huffed before turning around, “Hello, Lisa. I’ve been working all day and I’ve got some other stuff to do anyway. You know, preparing for a Dragonspine experiment that’s coming up in a week. I’m still missing some materials for it.” His excuse was as good as any other, and it wasn’t like Lisa would question him on it seeing as it lined up with all of his other work. And if she had noticed, she certainly didn’t say anything. He could only assume Klee had babbled about his current predicament to her and Jean. Hell, all of the Knights probably knew about it by now.

Yet, the smile Lisa had greeted him with still remained as bright as ever, “Oh, it’s no worry, sweetheart. But I did have to ask, have you completed the paperwork for that last Dragonspine expedition Jean asked you to do? You know, the one with the Liyue detectives? I know it’s a lot of work, especially since it deals with foreign affairs, but Jean really needs it done by next week and you know how stressed she gets…”

Lisa seemed to trail on forever sometimes, it was one of Albedo’s least favorite things about her. Admittedly, he had stopped listening to her about half way through her little rant. Of course he knew about the papers, they had been sitting on the edge of his desk for about a week collecting dust. And how could he forget about them when they stuck out so abnormally, they were clear as day not part of his experiment. But even still, they would have to wait. It wasn’t that important, especially seeing as the investigation led to absolutely nothing and he had far more important things to worry about right now.

Albedo continued to absent-mindedly nod along as the librarian spoke. Sometimes he would chime in with an mhm or a really? Not that Lisa seemed to care he wasn’t really paying attention. A glimpse of a certain uniform seemed to catch his eye though, and as quickly as he had become bored, he had snapped out of it.

Once he registered it was you, Albedo instantly began nodding faster. Dammit, why couldn’t Lisa just stop talking right now? Couldn’t she see he had places to be?

Albedo’s eyes continued to glance back and forth between Lisa’s face and the back of your head, following your movements whenever he could so he wouldn’t lose you in the crowd of Knights. He had to fix this, he had to.

“Anyway, Albedo,” Albedo’s eyes snapped back onto Lisa’s at the mention of his name, “Just make sure you get that file to Jean. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Uh, yes, of course,” he hurriedly said, “See you tomorrow.”

As Lisa walked away with her goodbyes, Albedo felt his legs move on their own. A string of sorry ‘s and excuse me ‘s fell from his lips as he pushed his way through the corridor and around all of the people. His eyes were locked on you — until they weren’t. Panic set into his bones as he hurriedly glanced around only to not be able to find you.

If only Lisa had just finished talking sooner — no, if only she didn’t talk to him at all. Maybe he could’ve gotten to you, said he was sorry and restored your relationship. Maybe he could’ve held you in his arms tonight like he always does. Maybe he could’ve said he loved you as you fell asleep. And maybe, he could’ve kissed good morning you when you woke up tomorrow. Maybe he could’ve had you back.

Now you were gone and he had to wait even longer. Albedo bit his lip in frustration, hands forming into fists at his sides. A gentle sigh escaped him as he pushed the doors open to the Knight’s headquarters and slipped out silently.

If only he had noticed you standing by the door on his way out.

Apology Attempt #3: Five Days After The Argument

It was March Fourteenth now. The sky was dark and a little overcast, but not enough to cover the stars or the moon. Loud chatter and excited laughter could be heard from outside of Angel’s Share. Albedo stood silently outside of the door, dusting his outfit off. A little gift bag with a few colorful balloons printed on the side of it sat gently in his right hand. It was Jean’s birthday and everyone had been invited to celebrate at Diluc’s bar.

Hesitantly lifting his hand up to the handle, Albedo opened the door. A small smile made its way to his face as he gave a small wave to everyone inside. It would seem he was the last one to arrive.

Before his eyes even had the chance to look for you, Sucrose and Kaeya were in front of him. “Albedo, welcome!” Sucrose had warmly greet him. Kaeya smiled and took the small bag from him and placed it on a table where all the other gifts were. Soon enough, even Timaeus had joined them and walked the group over to the bar where Diluc had been bar tending

“Albedo, good to see you,” Diluc spoke. Albedo nodded and returned his welcoming words. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Water is fine. Thank you.”

The atmosphere was nice, Albedo noted. It was warm and no one was being overly talkative with him. The food was good and his water was a little too cold for his liking, but he hadn’t minded too much. A breath of air silently left his lips as he fiddled with the cup in his hands. Truthfully, Albedo had no intention of actually showing up tonight. A birthday party wasn’t really his scene, but if there was even the slightest chance he could finally see and talk to you again, he’d take it.

“Looking for Y/n?” Diluc’s voice rung out, interrupting Albedo’s thoughts.

“Oh, uh — yeah. How did you know?”

Diluc smiled knowingly, “You just look a little lost. Everyone knows how much you love them, so it’s a little odd to see you without them. They’re talking to Rosaria over there.”

Albedo’s eyes followed the direction Diluc pointed in, only to see you looking right back at him. You gave him a small, yet, sad smile before averting your eyes and turning back to talk to Rosaria again. Albedo knew it was impolite, but perhaps now was a good time to pull you away. Besides, Rosaria wouldn’t care if he interrupted — at least, he hoped she wouldn’t.

But before Albedo could even get up to talk to you, a small hand had wrapped itself around his own. His eyes snapped down to find Klee smiling at him. “Brother! It’s time to cut the cake and give Master Jean her presents. C’mon, c’mon!”

Klee continued to tug at his hand until he got up. Setting his glass down at the bar, Diluc gave him a pitiful look. At least he was saved from the rest of that conversation, Albedo thought. It was getting far too personal for his liking. Seriously, did everyone in Mondstadt know about your argument?

On his way over to the table, Albedo felt someone watching him. When he glanced up, he found your eyes on him again. Although, this time, an amused smile was on your face as you watched Klee drag him to the table. It was rather comedic, he could at least admit that. If anything, he was just glad to not see you look so saddened by the sight of him — even if he was a little embarrassed.

As soon as the “Happy Birthday” song had been sung, everyone cheered around the table. One by one, Jean opened each and every gift with a smile and a thank you following suite. It was a comfortable little gathering, seriously, it was. But, Albedo couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. His eyes wandered around to everyone at the table. Everyone was radiating with happiness and cheer — even Rosaria, who always looked like she was on the verge of murdering someone.

It didn’t feel right.

The alchemist stared down at his feet. He couldn’t help but think he didn’t deserve to be having a good time right now, not when he was aching over the words he had said to you a few days ago. Until he could apologize to you and make things right again, how was he supposed to live with himself? And even if could find the time to apologize to you tonight, he knew he couldn’t do it anyway.

Although he nearly took his chances earlier, Albedo knew it would bring down the mood of the party — regardless of whether everyone would witness it or not. For the most part, you had looked happy tonight and Albedo didn’t want to ruin that, nor did he want to spoil Jean’s birthday.

Albedo breathed deeply in and out quietly to himself. Normally, in times like these, you would be walking right up to him, realizing he was feeling out of place again and offering to leave with him. It was one of the things he loved most about you; the way you always cared so much for him and still loved him regardless of his struggles with his social life…it never left his gratitude. Albedo stepped back from the group who was still cheering and eagerly watching Jean open her gifts from everyone. She had already opened his gift, so it would make it a lot easier to just slip out unnoticed.

Quietly, he headed toward the door without a word. Not even Klee — who always had a knack for finding him — had noticed his absence. Albedo grabbed his coat and slipped it on quickly before heading toward the door. And for the final time that night, Albedo’s eyes met with yours.

The look in each of your eyes was the same — longing, sad, and yet so full of love. This time it would seem as though it wasn’t the Gods who had gotten in the way of his apology, but rather Albedo himself. His eyes hesistantly, and rather shamefully, pulled themselves away from your own. And with that, he opened the door and left without a word.

Apology Attempt #4: Six Days After The Argument

The day after Jean’s party, Albedo felt even more miserable — if that was even possible. He never slept much anyway, but last night was horrible. Running on practically nothing, he felt awful. Not to mention, all of his social battery had ran out from the party. And all he could think about now was how much he regretted going.

Albedo didn’t mind the cold, but last night his house was unbearably frosty, making his night even worse. Not being able to handle being at home anymore, Albedo made his way to his lab at the Knight’s of Favonius at an ungodly hour. The sun hadn’t even risen and there wasn’t a single person outside except for him by the time he had arrived.

Hours had passed until more people started filing in. Noelle was among the first to arrive, cleaning up and preparing everything for the day. When she had found Albedo, her eyes went wide and she flooded him with questions to make sure he was alright. The young maid had even pointed out the dark circles under his eyes, something Albedo hadn’t even known was possible for him.

Soon, everyone had arrived and the building became a lot louder. Albedo had groaned as his head fell to his arms on his desk. Couldn’t it just be a little more quiet around here? Albedo hadn’t even drank any alcohol last night, yet it practically felt like he had a hangover with the headache he had.

The sound of the door opening and then shutting quickly alerted Albedo as his head shot up to see who walked in. He knew it wasn’t Klee because she always had the ever so annoying habit of slamming the door open. It certainly wasn’t Sucrose because she had been assisting Timaeus today. The flash of a white lab coat and clipboard in hand allowed the air in the back of Albedo’s throat to get stuck.

Shit, he didn’t know you were coming back today.

You hadn’t spoken a word to him as you walked passed. You didn’t even look at him. Though, it wasn’t like Albedo was expecting you to. You had every right to still be mad at him and knew that well enough. Today would be the day he would apologize. he swore it to himself. There was no way he would let a full week pass before he got the chance to apologize to you. Celestia would not get in his way today.

Though it seemed as though it would have to wait. It was too early and Albedo hadn’t even thought of what to say. He’d had his original apology of course, but now it had been days and that surely wouldn’t be enough to explain why he couldn’t utter an I’m sorry to you. He needed something better, something more heartfelt. Albedo had been miserable without you over the past few days and he hadn’t even known he had the capability of feeling that way for someone else until now.

Crash!

Fear washed over Albedo’s body once he heard the sound. He had been so lost in thought that he’d barely noticed it at first. But with only a tiny hallway separating the labs between you, it was inevitable that he’d have heard it eventually. Rushing out of his seat, Albedo had hurried down the hall where he heard you hiss to yourself.

In the room, he’d found glass shattered all over the floor and chemicals pooling together. It had almost looked like the scene at which your argument happened. Albedo’s eyes widened once he saw your hand, which was cut and completely covered in blood. His legs carried him over to you in an instant before he knelt down in front of you.

Albedo’s hands gently cupped themselves around yours. Your blood had even began to drip along his own hands. You knew Albedo had been rather particular about that, always blabbering about the lack of sanitation of it. Yet, it didn’t seemed like he cared much as he continued to hold them. His eyes darted around your lab, urgently looking for a sink and some medical supplies. When he spotted it, he gently placed one arm around yours while the other remained under your cut hand while carefully walking you over to it.

The medical supplies were out in an instant as Albedo began to work on your hand while you sat on the counter. The cut wasn’t too bad, if anything, it was the chemicals that had gotten into it that made it worse. No words were exchanged between the two of you during the time. You were sure it would have been painfully awkward if it wasn’t for the fact that Albedo had been incredibly concentrated on fixing your hand up.

The ticking of the clock wasn’t helping. It was quite literally the only sound in the lab — save for your occasional hisses and winces from the pain. And, soon enough, an entire hour had passed before Albedo had finished cleaning and bandaging your hand. You studied the bright white bandages that adorned your dominant hand as Albedo began cleaning up the various bandages and other supplies.

As soon as he had put the medical kit away, you had hopped off of the counter and stood right in front of him. Albedo hadn’t moved and instead was gazing into your eyes. Throughout all the time you had known him, you had never seen so much emotion mixed deep within them.

Say something.

Anything.

Please.

Albedo’s mouth opened and shut again and again. No words could make their way out, it seemed. Eventually, he just shut it for good and sighed to himself. One step forward and then another and then another. A sad and tired smile graced Albedo’s face as he collapsed against you, pulling you into a warm embrace. As if on instinct, your arms locked around his abdomen and your head rest against his chest.

“I have so much to say. But let me just start with saying, I am so sorry”

“Shhh,” you cooed. An entire week without each other. Miserable as he was, you were unfathomably worse. You could talk for hours later if you wanted, days even. You didn’t care about his formal apology right now, because all you wanted right now, was to be with him. It was clear he wanted the same.

There was nothing stuck between the two of you now. Albedo wasn’t much for believing in the idea of Gods, but he was glad they hadn’t gotten in the way once more. And as he held you tightly in your lab, he knew everything would be alright.

[watchernotculture]

heey, how are you? I'm happy about the event!! I'd like to request Chuuya x f!reader (or gn reader) with the prompts 10 and 5 take care of yourself and thank you in advance <3

10 ( “i..i promise there is nothing in the candy.”) + 5 (“you're my only reason im doing this”)

hi anon! doing well, i am too, im really exciting to being doing one of these and each request makes me really happy! hopefully i didnt make him too OOC, i tried my best with chuuya

-WC 770 // valentines event open!! tws: kidnapping, drugging

Slow days always seem to bother you but it was somewhat interesting today. You didn't want to push your luck with whatever and whoever, so you just choose to relax. The Port Mafia didn't take Valentine's seriously so you continued working as usual. You took your time doing paperwork, occasionally looking back at the clock. Thinking of things to do when you go home, probably treat yourself while binge watching another boring show for fun. Could go out on your own and do your ownself café date while just walking around and buying whatever catches your tastes. While in your mind-strucken daydreams a knock sounded from your door, pounding a little harder when you didn't respond the first time.

Finally snapping back, you called in whoever was knocking at your door. The door opened delicately and your higher up, Chuuya was walking into your room. You straighten up and recollect yourself in respect. Giving a smile you greet him, while nervously waiting to see what he's here for. His eyes quickly landed on you and started walking towards your desk. He was clear on what he wanted, asking you out for the evening, you squeezed your hand as you accepted his invitation. "Be there at 5 pm."

Slow days always seem to bother you, but, at least you have something to look forward to. It was still nerve-wracking since it was Chuuya of all people. Gently tapping your desk while looking at the clock. You're on friendly terms with Chuuya, talking for long periods if youre allowed. He's considerate towards you and seemingly kinder. He is always just.. there when you're around. You let these thoughts go easily, you should be getting ready after all. Putting the paperwork you've done to the side, you get up and get ready to leave, the nervousness still not leaving you. 

You tried to look your best, shaking off some self doubt, he's gonna be fine with how you look. deciding to leave just a bit early just in case of setbacks. Finally you reach the restaurant Chuuya told you about. nodding at the waiters politely when you found out Chuuya was already there. Walking towards him, his head perked up to see you, giving a gentle but anxious smile at him. He greeted you back just as politely, the date going well and you started to notice he stared for too long. The questions always led back to you. Was anyone bothering you? Has anyone hurt you? He must've also caught on about his odd questioning and cut back on it. Something was clearly off which made you start thinking back but you tried not to worry too badly. The date came to a close, but before you could get up Chuuya gently grabbed your hand. Gifting you some chocolates, they were open slightly. "My apologies, I didn't want you to struggle with opening them."

You continued onwards, the chocolates were fancy but looked normal. You started to chew and noticed the taste but you blamed it on the unfamiliar brand. However you couldn't help but ask what was in them despite your third consumption.

"I..I promise there's nothing in the candy." You froze, there was something in the candy and you could already feel the lag in your movements. Starting to panic, you tried to get up but Chuuya was already helping you up. Started shushing you while your consciousness was rapidly dwindling. 

You woke up drowsy, seeing double while moving slowly, everything was delayed. The nausea was overwhelming so you continued to try to stay still while everything swirled around you. Calming down, you noted your surroundings, you were on a bed, everything around you looked nice and expensive. "It's a precaution but I'm still sorry it had to happen this way." 

You tried to lift up your head gently to look up at the voice that spoke up. You didn't want to yell incase of feeling worse, your glare held anger and confusion. It bothered Chuuya, but he brushed it off as shock. "Look I know this is bad but-"

You didn't let him continue as you started shooting questions at him while also not letting him continue. Obviously this pissed him off a little, "you're my only reason im doing this!, I hate seeing you getting hurt so now you belong here."

His tone was firm yet he held back from yelling, it still got you to quiet down. The hatred in your eyes was still sharp, you did start calming down then the realization dawned on you. There's a good chance you weren't gonna leave this place.

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

"Open your mouth for me baby"

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave?"

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing: Chuuya X Fem!Reader

Request: "hi! congrats on 500 🥰 for the prompts maybe chuuya + 1&5" ◜By lovely anon!◞

Genre: Smut

Format: Fic

Warnings: Explicit smut, Rough sex, Creampie, Mean Dom!Chuuya, Sub!Reader, Degrading, Oral (M receiving), Vaginal sex, Doggy style, Dirty talk, MDNI

Word Count: 1.6K

A/n: I'm sorry if this sucks, I just wanted a get it over with.

Having gotten no type of attention for the past few days, you are exhausted.

No matter if it's on weekdays or the weekend, Chuuya is always busy with work. He gets one call from his boss and he runs to the port mafia like a poppy, leaving you all alone in bed in the middle of the night.

From the beginning of this not so stablished relationship, you knew that it was going to be like this. Chuuya's loyalty to the port mafia has no boundaries, in fact it's one of the reasons you fell for him in the first place; but now that you need him to be by your side and he's not, you're frustrated.

Today was finally his day off which you made him take. You were so excited for today, or else you wouldn't spend 2 hours in the shower, shaving and using all kinds of shampoos and lotions. You even put scented candles in the bedroom and decorated the bed with rose petals fighting the urge to start the date night from there, but you should have probably knew that things were not going to go as planned.

Now Chuuya is sitting in his office, attending an "emergency meeting" through his laptop, and you are on the couch wearing his favorite dress, drinking his favorite wine all by yourself. You want to cry so bad, but you also don't want to make him feel bad. He isn't doing this on purpose. Port Mafia isn't just his job, it is his one and only family. You don't want him to think he has to choose between the two of you; but you aren't really against letting him know how upset you are.

Suddenly an idea pops into your head. An idea that is risky, dangerous and everything; but is also too tempting to resist.

Chuuya is in the middle of the online meeting when he feels your presence. He raises his head and looks at you, but instead of a happy expression, he faces a big frown on your face. He has an idea of what's going on- you had talked about this matter before after all-, but you look way more upset than you used to be before. He would tell you to wait for him a little more if people couldn't see him through his laptop; but you aren't looking for an apology or anything, since you go down on the floor and start crawling under the table.

Now Chuuya is shocked, and when he feels your hand on his crotch, he sees right through your plan, but he can't really stop you, not even with his hand.

"ACKKK!"

Mori looks at his red face with a bit of concern and asks him what's wrong; but what can he say? His wife is trying to give him a blowjob and bites his hand when he attempts to stop her?

Down there, you are satisfied. happy. Delighted, if you may say.

You smirk as you unravel his length from his pants, smitten by how it's reacting to your small touches. Before wrapping your lips around it, you wonder if Chuuya is liking this or the other way around; but his body is kind of giving away the answer.

The red-haired man's jaw clenches as your tongue rolls around his tip. He has always been fond of the heads you've been giving him here and there, but he's not sure how to feel about them now. Though this makes no change to your attitude; you're still as greedy and professional ever, gagging on his length as you bob your head up and down, desperate for fresh air but the urge to teach him a lesson is strong; to the point that you would even give up on breathing.

Chuuya bangs his head against the desk as he finally comes, sinking his teeth in his bottom lip to prevent his groan from breaking out. You're still greedy and don't want to let go, keeping his still erected cock in your mouth; but you know if you don't ban yourself from one last lick, You'll make him whine and he will kick your ass afterwards. Moments pass and he still refuses to raise his head. It's like he finds the hard substance under his forehead comfortable, or that he doesn't want other mafia members to see him all red and vulnerable.

Whatever the reason was, you didn't have to wait long to find out.

"Chuuya-kun?"

Of course the mafia members were watching him.

"Pardon me boss, but I need to go"

That was the last thing he said before closing his laptop, and before you jumped up and ran out of the room, almost like a bullet firing from a gun.

You were fast for your own kind.

If only Chuuya was one of your kind.

It's a matter of time before he grabs your arm, humping you on his shoulder to carry you to the bedroom. Obviously he can hear you laughing, shaking, screaming, whining and even begging at some point; but he's just not interested. He doesn't even care when you gasp as he slams you against the bed and hovers over you.

A few shouts and scolding is what you're expecting to hear; but no, the silence doesn't get interrupted by anything, not even the sound of your breathing. It's just Chuuyas gaze piercing through your soul with his lips sealed, and you staring back with fear. What is going on in that little head of his?

Is he angry? Yes.

Is he planning on revenge? Probably.

Are you fucked? Oh boy, totally.

Will apologizing make everything right?

…No, but it won't hurt to try.

"Eh... Sorry?"

"No"

No. You can't just get away with that.

"You know... I worked my ass off all the week just to be able to spend today with you. I get that something came up and I had to work again, but it's not like I asked for it! Yet you don't give a shit and keep putting me under pressure"

A petite hint of guilt roses in your chest and makes you rethink the whole situation again, realizing he might have a point; but it's useless now, he doesn't wanna hear your apology. He seems to be interested in gaining another thing from you, and from the way his eyes have darkened with lust, you have a clue of what his demand might be.

Chuuya smirks, the kind he wears on his face whenever he's going to put a show on at work and kick all his enemies' asses and of course, whenever he's going to ruin you. The kind that would send shivers down your spin and make your heart race with excitement, realizing you're gonna get it good.

Maybe he's not that mad after all.

Boy you're wrong.

His cold fingers making contact with your lips gives you goosebumps, but they aren't as cold as his stare. That's on another level.

"Open your mouth for me baby"

All the confidence and the urge to get revenge drifts away from your mind and as you obediently open your mouth for him to coat his thumb with your saliva, you realize that you've started a fight that you will never win, because the grip Chuuya has over you is insane; just one signal from him is enough to have you crawling back to him like a lost puppy, desperate to be with his master.

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave, doll?"

You aren't in a comfortable position to think, even if you have a hint of the answer.

Not when Chuuya's tongue brushes against your ear like this, as if his hand roaming around your inner thighs isn't enough.

"Remember y/n, you asked for this"

"Chuuya- can't- I'm- I'm sorry!"

That was the last drops of your energy, which you foolishly wasted over pleading and begging, like it's going to have any influence on him.

Chuuya's cock relentlessly shoves in and out of your abused cunt, his hips slamming against yours as he takes you from behind. How many times have you come? You've lost counting after the fifth one, and from the looks of it, Chuuya's not planning on taking a break yet.

"What's wrong sweetheart? You were so impatient earlier that you couldn't even wait till my meeting was over. You just had to barge in and try to embarrass me in front of everyone. Regretting it already? But we've just started!"

He isn't exactly expecting an answer, but he does gets a loud moan as a response instead which he finds pleasant, although that's mostly the work of his dick.

Still, he won't miss the chance to tease you.

"I'm talking to you, slut" A harsh slap lands on your ass, making you moan louder "Did I fuck you too dumb to even answer to a simple question? Well, my bad"

Chuuya's good at multitasking, so he somehow finds the perfect rhythm for his thrust while rubbing your clit with his digits, as if his lengthy member exploring through your folds aren't already enough. Your body feels numb and you can't really think about anything- as you should be after three orgasms and two squirts; the only thing you sense is how your body is still greedy for more of him, with the way his cock inside you feels just right.

Chuuya does one last thrust and releases inside you with a soft groan, not high pitched but loud enough for you to hear, since he knows it drives you crazy; but the second he pulls out of you, you collapse onto the bed, trying to catch your breath. He smiles at the sight of his cum dripping out of your pussy, and lightly pushes it inside you, where it should be. He almost feels bad when you squirm at the feeling of his fingers on your entrance again.

"Well darling, I hope you've learned your lesson"

Yeah, you definitely did this time.

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

[dinaaaaee]

I don’t know if your doing requests. If you are can you please do reader x lucifer angst with no comfort wanting a break from him because he stood them up again and they are at their limit, with the prompt ‘don’t give me space, thats the last thing i need from you, we can work this out together’ thank youuu 🙏🏾

Space.

★ Heya anon! Yes I am doing requests now, thank you for requesting. ♡ I really enjoyed writing this and hope you enjoy reading aswell!

★ Lucifer x gender neutral MC. Angst with no comfort.

★ Synopsis: Mc gets stood up, not for the first time and decides enough is enough.

★ Warnings: Mention of reader drinking alcohol. Mention of food. Use of petnames.

⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

17:00 pm - Entering the restaurant you could feel the warmth and delectable aromas welcome you, making you feel even more giddy knowing that you'll be spending some well deserved quality time with your busy lover. Grinning stupidly to yourself - You can't wait.

17:30pm - Hm. Waiting, for your lover you took your time to distract your self through skimming the black and gold menu. 'Ooo they have chocolate fondues?'

18:30pm - An hour has already passed and he is still not here. Sighing, taking your phone off the table, that you've been eyeing anxiously, in your hands and shooting a quick message: 'Luci, are you here yet?

Maybe he got caught up? Yeah, that must be it... he is coming now. Probably.

...

Suddenly, It no longer feels warm. He's not coming.

19:00pm - The chimes of the grandfather clock could be heard. The couple next to your table, laughter made you sick. You scoff, downing another glass of red. At least they're having fun. Like you should be.

19:10pm - Yeah, that's it. Stupidly waiting another ten minutes, having faith he would come. He didn't. Five missed calls, ten messages. Nothing. Nada. No reponse.

Couldn't he atleast have decency to message you? or did that affect his pride aswell?

You know he was a busy man, you understood this, even when you first got into a relationship with him. You couldn't help it, it was your third anniversary together. But then again, this is now a common occurrence isn't it? You come back home irritated, heartbroken, he tells you that he can't ignore his work and brushes you off, just like the workaholic he is.

More weary then angry, you step out of the dim lighted restaurant back home. You know what you have to do.

_____

Knock.

"Come in." The robust voice spoke.

Lucifer was sitting in his reddish velvet chair in front of you. In a dark spaced room with only the fireplace for lighting. White papers were crumpled all over the place. The smell of books, his perfume, and smoke were apparent. These smells had always soothed you, but now it was suffocating.

"What is it?" Mistaking you for one of his brothers.

"Lucifer."

Head shooting up quickly, at the lifeless of tone. "Hello, dearest." A fond but concerned smile adoring his handsome features. "You look astonishing, is there a special occasion?"

"Yeah, just our third anniversary dinner, that's all. No big deal." You wave him off, face betraying the causality of your tone.

Eyes widening at the realization. He's been so fixated with his paperwork as of late, everyday being the same: he missed today.

"Love, I-"

"Save it."

Knowing what he'll say. He would never apologize. His pride wouldn't let him.

"Imagine repeatedly getting stood up. Even so, getting stood up for your third year anniversary. I don't know why I've been taking it since you first stood me up..." Trailing off you add "Been so understanding and what have I got in return? You know what? I'm done."

"You don't mean that."

"I do, I really do. Lucifer, tell me honestly, was we real or for show?"

"Mc, now your over reacting." He says sternly. What do you mean for show? Do you really think he would do that to you?

Maybe you were over reacting, but enough is enough.

"Mc, I cannot stop my work, just for a date. My work is quite important, it affects the future of the crown, I am Diavolos right hand man afterall." He gets up from his seat.

"Righttt 'just for a date', because spending time let alone your third anniversary with your lover is just a date. Like you haven't been working under Diavolo for multiple of centuries, but a few hours would affect the crown?" You laugh in disbelief.

Did he really call your third anniversary just a date?

"I think we need a break, we need space." You say in a firm tone.

He goes silent.

A few minutes has passed and you both are just staring at each other. Its clear he wasn't going to say anything, so as just you was about to walk out of his study: "Don't..."

"What?"

"Don’t give me space... that's the last thing I need from you." He pleads. "We can figure this out together; I'll speak with Diavolo, Just-"

"No. You should have thought of speaking with him before I reached my limit, not when I am about to leave."

"Goodbye, Lucifer." Walking out of his study, not sparing a glance.

⊱⋆⊰━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[lightlycareless]

Hii! I just wanted to let you know that I'm a big fan of your work!

I started of with discovering your "First it Hurts" fic on ao3, then being updated to your every post cus I look forward to every fic or hc's you make!

Also, I loved the valentines special post 💗💗 BUT IM SO CURIOUS ABOUT NAOYA'S LETTER AHH, anyways I just wanted to let yknow that I love your fics and the way you write Naoya! I hope you continue writing fics about him since there's a scarcity on Naoya fics HAHAHA, but I dont mean to pressure you! Please take your time, and I'm eagerly waiting for your new fics!

Hello!!

Awww thank you so so so much!! I'm so happy you're liking it so far!!!!! 🥺❤️ akajghajkghasgjas as well as my oneshot :>

Also, I'd like to apologize for the delay; I'm slowly working my way through requests, the main fic, and the weird schedule for my job 💀 I greatly appreciate your support and patience 🥺❤️ Also, I'll be writing Naoya fics for like, ever. I'M LOOKING FORWARD TO SEE HIM ANIMATED OMG ALL THE INSPIRATION.... gotta keep this small part of the fandom alive!!!!

Now... to the letter.... I feel like it would've gone something like this:

warnings: naoya is a prick, no surprise. but... he has feelings, just that he doesn't know what to do with them. this is the oneshot anon is referring to.

Happy reading!

Y/N.

I didn’t think letters were still written in these times, outside of elderly people and the socially inept, but I suppose that for certain occasions they are still necessary.

By the time you get this you’ll probably already have an idea of where I’m going with it, yet I’ll still write it down.

I cannot deny that you came onto my life in the most unexpected way, not necessarily the best either.

I didn’t like your siblings, and I still don’t. I think of them to be nothing but highly annoying, arrogant, especially your sister who seems to parade herself around Gojo and the privilege she had of knowing him.

Your brother is somewhat… calmer in that aspect, he tends to keep to himself, and I respect that. Everyone should be like that, you know?

But I’m not here to talk about them, of course, I’m here to talk about you.

When I heard that you were going to enroll, I wasn’t thrilled, I genuinely thought great, another nuisance was to grace the school grounds—I already had this preconceived idea of you and was more than ready on keeping it… until I finally I saw you.

I’m sure you’ve heard this a thousand times already, someone like you must’ve undoubtedly… but you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen in my life. Your beauty is so mesmerizing, I couldn’t believe it was real—anyone thinking otherwise is either blind, stupid, or lying. Or maybe all at the same time.

I didn’t accept those feelings at first, tried my hardest to ignore them and go back to disliking you, find a reason to hate you and move on.

But I couldn’t, and when I heard your laughter, saw your smile, or the cute way your eyes twinkled whenever you were excited about something, I knew it was impossible for me to disregard it any further.

My feelings for you had only grown more and more as time passed, and now, I find it physically impossible to contain them, but still hard to express them to you in person.

So, I resorted to this letter, which I hope will be able to accurately convey what I feel for you, if only for a fraction, until then.

What I mean to say is… If you let me, Y/N, I can show you how special you are to me.

I can give you all that you want in the world—it doesn’t matter what, whether it being money, or the stars themselves—I will not spare any expense to give you what you deserve, and I shall assess that every day of my life until my death, starting with the gifts I’ve sent you today, alongside those waiting in your dorm.

I shall call you mine. No other man will be able to lay a hand on you, and I won’t allow any other woman to do the same to me either. My eyes will solely keep to you, and you alone; I expect you to do the same.

And in turn… I don’t ask much, except that you see me the same cheerful, adorable way you see others when happy, the one that has me completely enthralled, unable to keep it off my mind for more than one second, and… accept me into your heart.

If you so decide it appropriate to get to know each other better, you know where to find me. I shall await your response.

Naoya.

As you can see, Naoya isn’t overtly romantic or good with words (I mean, the slander at the beginning lol) but he tries, as genuinely as possible—his honesty is a virtue to appreciate lol. Also, he was TREMBLING while writing this, if not crying hahaha he really almost died when he wrote you were the prettiest girl in the whole while world.

He’ll become more comfortable with it, of course, he’s a man that can’t hold himself when it comes to talking. But it’s nice to see him all shy for once 😊

Akgjakogja I’m so happy you all liked this little oneshot—I know it was quite the bomb to drop on valentine’s day, but I swear, it’s a happy ending story :>

If there’s more you want to know about that oneshot/au just let me know, I’ll be more than happy to indulge!!

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!!

[suashii]

— 𝒸𝑜𝓏𝓎 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈 ౨ৎ

🦚 anon request: "making the house as cozy as possible before they come home" with matsukawa. you can request for my event here!

matsukawa issei x reader. 0.8k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ shirless mattsun. . . heh :3

Today has not been your day. Not by a long shot.

First, coffee splashed on your shirt before you even made it in the door to work—an accident that the owner of the unlidded beverage apologized profusely for. You think you could have brushed that off if it wasn’t followed so closely by an impromptu meeting that dragged on for an unreasonable amount of time. It left you racing to finish all the other tasks you were meant to complete today, tasks that should have been a breeze if your time had been budgeted accordingly—which it had been before that stupid meeting. 

By the time you’re finally able to clock out, the weight of eight stressful hours is heavy on your shoulders and makes your walk to the train feel twice as long as it really is. You find being squished between countless other bodies in the passenger car more unpleasant than you usually would but the upside is that you’re almost home—away from all of the bothersome inconveniences of the day, free to do as you please.

As you unlock the front door, thoughts of collapsing on your bed until you’re either too exhausted to stay awake any longer or your stomach growls in a noisy request for food are the only ones that swirl through your head. You’re quick to kick off your shoes and hastily hang up your bag when you cross the threshold into your apartment.

Your plan to make a beeline to your bed is put on hold after taking only a few steps in the direction of your room. You were so preoccupied with shedding the worst parts of your day at the door that you hadn’t taken notice of the oddities in the apartment—the scent of vanilla that only ever permeates the room when you take the time to light a candle, the unusual darkness you avoid coming home to by opening the curtains before you leave.

Your eyebrows pull together in a confused frown as you slowly approach the living room. The space that’s typically untouched when you return from work is anything but that. There are blankets messily strewn over the cushions of the couch and, despite the room being empty, the tv shines brightly in the otherwise dark area—one of many streaming service home tabs displayed on the large screen.

Before you can question any of the scene, a voice speaks up from beside you.

“Damn, you beat me out here.” You don’t have to look to tell that it’s Matsukawa—who else would it be? Still, you turn to face him anyway and are met with his large figure. There’s a goofy yet endearing smile on his face like he’s been caught in the act. The rest of his appearance contrasts that of his face—curls damp enough that water continues to bead at the ends, sweatpants low enough that you’re allowed a peek of his v-line. He must have just gotten out of the shower.

“You set all this up?” It’s a silly question that you already know the answer to but you can’t help but gesture to the cozy environment he created.

“Surprised?” he asks, and the smile tugging at his lips turns from goofy to proud.

“A little,” you admit with a nod, but you smile too. He did all of this for you. “I honestly thought you’d be asleep when I strolled in.”

Mattsun huffs out a laugh through his nose before putting his hands—still warm from the shower—on your shoulders and leading you to the couch. He sits you down and takes his place next to you, adjusting the fluffy blankets as he speaks. “How could I sleep knowing you had such a shitty day?”

You didn’t expect that your complaining to Issei throughout the day would lead to such a sweet gesture. It almost makes you feel guilty. “It wasn’t that bad…”

“That’s not the impression all of your texts gave.”

If you went through your message log right now, you’d probably find that the man was right.

“Fine, it was pretty bad,” you concede. But you don’t want to dwell on the negatives, not when Mattsun went out of his way to make sure you came home to something that was sure to cheer you up. You lay your head on his shoulder with a content sigh. “It’s better now, though.”

He’s warm, like a human heater—all the comfort you need bundled up in one person. Your person.

“Good.” Issei gives you a squeeze that you’re sure is meant to be a hug and leans down to place a sloppy kiss on your forehead. “Movie pick is up to you. And I can cook you something if you’re hungry.”

While the offer itself is kind, you can’t help but pull away and level the man with a questioning look. You and he both know that his skills in the kitchen are less than average. 

Without you even uttering a word, Issei chuckles in understanding. “Takeout?”

You nod. “Takeout.”

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[final-fantasy-imagines]

Hi!! I hope you doing well :), May I make a request for Reno x Reader? I wanted see what it be like for Reno and reader meeting on Valentine’s Day! Like he’s kinda mad he doesn’t have a date and she’s just hanging out trying to find something to do, and then they run into each other and just hang out with each other! By the end of the day they say they wanna hang out again and their like “I’m in love” behind close doors 😖 I’m so sorry that was a lot but I thought it would be cute ☺️

Hey there! <3 I'm doing pretty good, thank you. And thank you for your request, too! I know this doesn't match your idea perfectly but I hope you like it nevertheless. Happy Valentine's Day, dear anon! :)

Pairing: Reno x gn!reader

Unexpectedly – Reno x gn!reader

The sun has already started to set when Reno leaves the Shinra Building. The streets of Midgar are crowded, even more so than usual, and everywhere he looks, he sees couples - couples that are chattering about who knows what, couples with happy faces, with flowers and little gifts, couples who are shamelessly making out in a dimly lit corner, thinking that no one will notice them when everyone who's passing by can, in fact, see them.

Reno wants to roll his eyes and tell them that they should just get a room but at the last second, he stops himself. It's not their fault he's angry and upset and annoyed for reasons he doesn't even know. So instead of snapping at some random strangers, he stares down at the road and tells himself to calm down. It's Valentine's Day - of course there will be couples everywhere, and of course, they will kiss and giggle and enjoy their time together. He has no right to take his anger out on them, no matter how much he wants to.

As he continues to aimlessly wander around the city, Reno wonders if there's something more frustrating than working on Valentine's Day. And then he remembers that he doesn't have a date this year, and he figures that yes, that's a lot worse than work. It's not that he's usually bothered by being single - actually, it can be quite nice, especially with a crazy schedule like his - but on some days, he thinks it just would be great to have someone to come home to after a long shift. Someone who just gets it. 

And today is one of these days.

Maybe that's why the couples annoy him so much. Because he secretly envies them, although he'd rather bite his tongue off than actually admit that. He's a Turk, damit, and he doesn't need anyone else to be happy. He's perfectly capable of being alone.

Except that he doesn't want to be alone. Not today, at least.

He curses under his breath and kicks an innocent pebble out of his way. He hates feeling like this. It makes him look weak, pathetic even - and Reno might be a lot of things but weak and pathetic certainly aren't one of them.

And then, someone bumps into him.

*

You're not paying much attention to your surroundings as you rush through the familiar streets of Sector 8, and so it’s probably completely your fault that you just crashed into another person. A young man, with red hair and stunning turquoise eyes, who stares at you like he’s about to stab you, to be more precise. 

“Whoops,” you say quickly, taking a step back and holding your hands up, although you’re well aware that a simple gesture like that isn’t enough to shield you from the annoyance in his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

He opens his mouth, probably to snap at you but then he just sighs and, a lot calmer than you expected, says, “It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

That should be it, right? What’s more to say then “I’m sorry” when you bump into someone? 

You have absolutely no reason to stay here any longer, and yet, you don’t move. (You’re glad no one asks you for a reason because you honestly couldn’t tell them. It just feels wrong to just turn around and leave.)

“Sorry,” you say again. 

“I already told you that you don’t have to apologize.”

“Right.”

The situation is more than awkward, you’re painfully aware of that. Still, you don’t leave. 

“I should be the one to apologize,” the man suddenly says, and an almost sheepish grin flashes over his face when you dart a glance at him, surprised, “I scared you, no? You looked at me like you were afraid I was going to murder you or something.”

“Well, to my defense, you had a very murderous expression in your eyes,” you reply, only half-joking. What on earth is going on here? Just a minute ago, his anger has been almost palpable, and now he’s trying to quip? 

“Rough day at work.” He shrugs. 

“Ah. And instead of taking that out on your significant other, you picked a random stranger. I have to say, on a day like this, that’s kinda smart.”

It’s supposed to be a harmless joke but the way his eyes darken at your words makes it very clear that he’s not too amused about your comment. “It might actually surprise you – and I honestly don’t even know why I should tell you this – but I don’t have a significant other.” 

Oops. Sounds like you struck a nerve there. 

“Oh. Yeah, that’s actually really hard to believe,” you say with a nervous laugh, trying to save what still can be saved. “I mean, you seem like an amazing person and everything.”

“So, after almost knocking me down, now you trying to flirt with me, sweetheart?”

“Huh?” You’re going to get whiplash from the changes in his behavior, you’re sure. “Definitely not. I don’t even know your name.”

“Reno,” he says and winks at you. “The name’s Reno.” When you don’t reply (you’re still way too confused and taken aback by his suddenly so gleeful and flirty demeanor), he adds, “How about you, sweetheart?”

“If you call me sweetheart one more time I will rip your vocal cords out.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind, and the words are already out before you can stop them, but Reno just laughs, clearly not impressed by your violent threat. “You know what, I’d love to see you try,” he replies, voice low and smooth like honey, “sweetheart.”

You’re going to punch him if he continues to talk to you like that, you swear. But at the same time, you think that it would be a shame to harm a pretty face like his.

Wait. Did you just think of him as pretty? 

But then again, who could blame you? He really is handsome (and you’re sure he knows it), although you’d rather bite your tongue off than actually admit that. And a part of you really wants to swipe that smug grin off his face. 

“I hate you,” is all you eventually manage to get out, and Reno’s grin widens. “You know you don’t. Why else would you still be here with me, hm?”

“Out of pity, of course,” you say, quick like a shot. “It’s Valentine’s Day and you poor thing don’t have a date.”

Reno laughs. “Okay, you got me there. Point for you.”

You can’t help but join in his laughter. It’s contagious – and, although it’s probably really stupid to think that – a part of you is proud for making him laugh. Especially since he has been in such a bad mood when you bumped into him. It’s a good thing that you managed to cheer him up, right?

“Come on,” he then says, offering you his arm like the gentleman he most certainly isn’t, “let me buy you a drink. As an apology for scaring you earlier, I mean. We can’t stay out here the whole night, can we?”

“Oh, we could. But a drink doesn’t sound too bad either.” You put a finger to your chin, acting like you have to think about his offer (a fruitless attempt to make him nervous) but you can’t keep up the façade for too long. So, with a wink, you link arms with him. “Okay. Lead the way, pretty boy.”

“Woah, slow down,” Reno jokes, “we don’t know each other well enough for that kind of nickname yet.”

The two of you burst into laughter again, and Reno starts to think that this could be the beginning of something truly wonderful. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, please consider liking, reblogging and/or leaving feedback. I'd really appreciate the support. <3

Taglist: @sixdaysofsilverashes @thevoidwriting @theimaginaryheir @strawberrymoonsx

[sneezyminniejo]

can i request a han jisung snz fic where he’s allergic to something like minhos cats or pollen (whichever you prefer) and minho takes care of him. maybe kink if your comfortable with that. if not it’s all good.

If you are still viewing my blog, I greatly apologize for the wait anon. I feel bad, but life is life. Anyway, here it is

I Forgot

“Mmnnhhh” Minho groaned as he was jostled awake. He glanced at his phone for a moment and saw that it was three in the morning. He huffed in annoyance before rolling over and closing his eyes again. As he rolled over, his arm naturally fell to the space next to him. He opened his eyes again when his arm hit empty mattress instead of his boyfriend. Minho opened his eyes just long enough to see that the younger man had gone to the bathroom before going back to sleep.

The following morning, Minho was the first one awake. It wasn’t terribly unusual, but what was unusual was the soft snoring emanating from the other side of the bed. Minho frowned as he felt his boyfriend’s forehead. It wasn’t warm, but clearly Jisung had come down with a cold. Minho got out of bed and began to get ready for the day.

While Minho made breakfast, he made sure to make it relatively simple. Just some toast and some fruit. He also made tea with some honey in it as he assumed that Jisung’s throat was probably going to be sore. He moved everything to the small table in their apartment and went to their room to tell the younger man that breakfast was ready.

Minho frowned when he realized that Jisung was still asleep. The younger man was definitely sick if he slept through breakfast being made, even if it was rather simple. He sat on the bed next to Jisung and once again felt his forehead. When he once again didn’t feel any warmth, he began to shake the younger man awake.

“Sungie, it’s time to wake up,” Minho gently said. Jisung groaned as he stretched and rubbed his face with the blanket. “Morning hyu-hihngxt, heh-heh-ngxtshhh.” Jisung sniffled as he sat up. 

“Would you like some medicine?” Minho asked. Dori hopped onto the bed and meowed softly. The two men chuckled as they gave her the pets she was demanding. Soonie and Doongie both joined when they realized they were being left out.

“I’m good hyung. It’s not thah-that bad. I’m just a bih-bit sniffly. Hh-ngxt, heh-ngxtshhh-nxgt.” Jisung rubbed his nose and reached for the tissues from the box that is kept on Minho’s nightstand.

“If you’re sure Sung. Breakfast is ready.” Jisung blew his nose and blearily followed the older man to the kitchenette of the apartment.

Jisung sat down at the table and looked confused at the very simple spread that was on the table. “Hyung, I thought you were going to make waffles today.” He sniffled as he grabbed a banana.

“I thought you'd prefer something simple and less heavy this morning.” The older man replied before setting the two mugs on the table and serving himself some food. Jisung pouted in response. “I was really looking forward to the waffles hyung. You’ve also been wa-anting to try out -hnxgtshhh, hhhngxtshhh, your new waffle maker.” Jisung grabbed a napkin and blew his nose.

Minho looked at the younger as if to get a proper read on him. After a moment of looking into his pouting eyes, the older man huffed. “Alright Sungie, I’ll make the waffles.” Minho went to work at making the waffle batter and poured the both of them some tea.

“Thanks for the tea hyung.” Jisung said as he began to sip the tea. “So, I was thinking after breakfast, we could go to the movies. That new action movie just came out, and I thought we could watch it.”

Minho stared at Jisung for a moment. “Let's see how we're feeling after everything is cleaned up. Besides, the first showing won't be until eleven or something, so we have time.” Minho agrees, even though he thinks it would be wiser to stay in.

Breakfast went mostly without incident. There had been one moment where Jisung had a mini sneezing fit with a mouth full of waffle. Minho almost wanted to put the younger on bed rest right then and there, but aside from the sneezing, Jisung didn't seem that sick.

Eventually, the time to leave for the movie rolled around, and Jisung was already wearing a light jacket before Minho could remember to ask the younger how he's feeling. Almost immediately after leaving the apartment, Jisung pitched forward in a small volley of sneezes.

“-steshhh, hih-stieshhhiewww. Sorry.” Jisung apologized as he accidentally bumped into Minho during the fit. “You’re fine Ji. Are you sure you’re up for a movie today?”

“Yeah, hyung. I’m actually really excited for this movie.” Jisung started skipping in excitement. Minho couldn’t help but laugh at that. It also relieved his worries a little because Jisung wouldn’t act like that if he were truly under the weather.

The movie ran for two and a half hours.  During the movie, Jisung was a little bit sniffly and sneezed twice. Minho was still concerned that the younger was coming down with a cold, so he decided to dote on the younger.

“Hyung, while I appreciate you making lunch, and the fact that we’re cuddling right now, but why did you make jook?”

“I made it because I wanted to do something easy. Thought we could just take a lazy day.” Minho lied, but he also enjoyed not doing anything for the day.

“Hyung, easy would’ve be-heh-stieshhh, heh-stieshhh. Been eating the kimchi in the fridge with rice in the rice maker.” Jisung grabbed a tissue and blew his nose. Minho didn’tt know what to say to Jisung’s logic, so he just shrugged in response.

The duo remained cuddled on the couch for a while. Soonie had curled up on Minho’s lap and Doongie was curled up in a cat tree. Dori had curled up in Jisung’s lap. It was perfect until Dori stood up to stretch and brushed her tail just under Jisung’s nose.

The ensuing fit of sneezes lasted eight and a half minutes. Leaving Jisung somewhat breathless in the aftermath. Minho had brought over the box of tissues and all he could do was watch as the younger seemingly went through half of said box.

“I forgot.” Minho whispered. “I can’t believe I forgot. I’m an idiot.” He said a little bit louder. Jisung looked at the older man with a confused expression as he continued to clean up the mess. “Hyung, I highly doubt you’re an idiot. What did you forget?”

“Okay. You’re either going to think this is hilarious or you’re going to hate me.” Minho paused. “But, I forgot that you’re allergic to cats. The entirety of today, I thought you were sick until just now.”

Jisung laughed loudly at this confession. “Hyung, that’s amazing. It explains so much of your weird behavior today. Including making jook for lunch. I was so confused by that. But, yeah. I forgot to bring my antihistamines with me before staying the night. So it’s my own fault I’m like this right now.”

It was Minho’s turn to laugh as he stood up and briefly disappeared to the bathroom. He came back with a box of antihistamines. “Now that I’ve remembered that you’re allergic to cats, I can remember that you’ve stashed some meds here just in case.”

Jisung accepted the medication and cuddled back up with Minho. “I’m totally okay with a lazy afternoon though.” Minho smiled and the duo silently went back to watching tv.