#i think even though this did wrap stuff up for a finale
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Is It Love?
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.ᐟ.ᐟ pairing – brother best friend riki! x fem! reader
.ᐟ.ᐟ synopsis – y/n had started her first year in uni and spent a lot of her time burying her head in books not caring much about having her first kiss till her friends teased her for being "boring." Riki catches her crying in her room and decides to change what her friends think. But can they keep denying the tension between them?
.ᐟ.ᐟ wordcount – 1k >
.ᐟ.ᐟ warnings – fluff, teeny tiny suggestive, (let me know if I missed anything)
NOW PLAYING; Is It Love? Sik-K (PROD. GXXD) (FT. MOON) ▶︎•၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|။•
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Dragging your weight into the house, you heard the muffled screams of Jake and Riki gaming in the living room. Letting out a sigh you try to pass by them without saying a word, which was unusual of you. Normally, you would scold them for being loud or join them for a round to kill time.
"LESS GAURR" Jake jumped victoriously after beating Riki in a match despite losing all the other ones. "I just went easy on you," Riki retorted with a scoff but he couldn't hide his smile at how cute his hyung was being, turning his head, he noticed you with your shoulder all slumped up and your head held down as you took off your shoes. Puzzled, he decided to stay quiet for now.
"Since I won FAIR AND SQUARE" Jake empathizes, interrupting his train of thought, "I'll go buy snacks from the mart to celebrate, you down?"
"I'll just stay here, can't be caught lacking again," he jokes playfully but Jake just gave him a stare and shrugged his shoulders, "fine but I'm not getting you snacks," he told him in a playful tone as he grabbed his jacket to head out.
Noticing the commotion died down a bit downstairs after a bit you sighed. Sitting at your bed curled up in defeat, everyone in class was gossiping about who already had their first kiss or even first time, meanwhile you had neither and got laughed at for saying you just never had the time to think of that stuff.
"Of course, our y/n is too busy making out with her books instead." Though you know they were only joking, it didn't make it sting less that people always thought of you as some sort of a buzz kill.
Without realizing tears were streaming down your face. Today just wasn't your day, having woken up in a cranky mood, not doing as well as you thought on your test, and your friends teasing you. Too wrapped up in your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door that brings you back to reality.
"W-what is it" you tried to sound firm and unbothered but your voice betrayed you. "Are you okay, squirt?" Hearing Riki's lighthearted voice at the end of the door made your face turn pink.
Quietly opening the door for him after wiping your tears. Your red nose and eyes gave you away. "Oh did the sun rise and flowers finally bloom?" He joked as you opened the door. Glaring at him, "Nishimura I'm not in the mood, what do you want?"
Not caring, he invited himself in your room, going straight to your bed to lay his upper body, prompting his arms behind his head, he eyes you. "Why were you crying?" His eyes staring into your soul, turning to gaze at the floor you respond, "none of your business" you quietly went to sit at the bed's edge.
"Did anyone bother you?" He suddenly got up from his position to look at you properly, "No." He wasn't buying your facade.
"Look at me, y/n." His strict yet caring tone made it impossible for you to ignore him further.
Looking up at him like he requested, he saw tears slowly falling down your rosy cheeks. His mind and heart racing, he knew you didn't like crying in front of people. Opening his arms, you looked at him feeling vulnerable but thankful he isn't teasing you right now like he usually does. Wrapping your arms around his slim waist, your face hidden in his chest.
His heart running a mile as he thought he would die seeing you like this. Carefully using his right hand to pat your head, he softly asks, "do you wanna talk about it?" His warm breath hitting your ears.
"I woke up late, didn't do well on my quiz, and my friends laughed at me for not having my first kiss yet," you said through tears, your voice slightly muffled by his hoodie, "what was last part?" He heard you clearly but wanted you to face him and say it. Looking up at him with your lashes wet and lips red from biting them. If his heart didn't explode later, it surely did now. "I got teased for not having my first kiss and got called a buzz kill for it." Your wobbly tone making his heart ache.
His hands carefully move to cradle your face, squishing your cheeks slightly making your lips form into a cute pout. "You're not a buzz kill, they are just bitter they aren't cute nerds," slapping his chest slightly, "I'm being serious!" "Who said I wasn't?" He look down at you with a smirk, not missing the way your gaze wavered. "I mean it's not my fault I don't know how to kiss-" the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.
"I can teach you," Riki interrupts, trying to sound nonchalant but his ears reddened betraying his display of confidence. "Stop messing around Nishimura" you pointed at him with your eyebrows scrunched up in disbelief. "I'm not messing around," slowly taking your hand from his face and holding it, he leans a little closer to test the waters, he looked straight into your eyes with your noses soon touching.
You closed your eyes, heart almost bursting. Unknowingly, your hand that held Riki's was digging at his skin, leaving marks. "I need a verbal answer, angel" the nickname rolling off his tongue like honey making you dizzy. "Ok," you replied looking at him with your big eyes and long lashes.
Smiling at you softly, "just follow my lead." He whispers softly before breaking that sacred wall between you two that he built in hopes he can bury his true feelings.
He started off slow and gentle, making sure you were comfortable, pulling away from the kiss to catch your breath, he looked at you with eyes that held so much love you couldn't help but take initiative this time, kissing him just how he showed you. Your hands eventually tug on his hair making him gasp, you took this opportunity to use your tongue, catching him off guard but he held your waist tighter, pulling your body impossibly closer.
The kiss filled with passion and years of unspoken feelings between you both, after a while, he breaks the kiss. His lips gently caressing your jawline before looking at you with sincerity, "I love you, y/n and I don't want to share you with anyone so don't go showing off your new skills to anyone else."
Looking at him in disbelief, you buried your face in his neck, embarrassed before responding, "I love you too, dummy." Smiling ear to ear at your answer, he rocked your body side to side, "your brother is going to shoot me for this," he joked, making you giggle.
Nishimura realized that he could no longer deny that this was his favorite sound and he wouldn't trade the world for you.
No longer deciding to bury your feelings for one another, you both stayed contently in each other's arm for a little longer.
So, is it love?
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tags; @imaluvsj7
© heeikeuu | likes and reblogs are appreciated ♡
#enha#enhypen fanfiction#ni ki x reader#nishimura riki#ni ki#riki nishimura x reader#enha x reader#riki x reader#riki x y/n#niki x y/n#enha imagines#enhypen#enha fluff#riki fluff
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man we get another whole season of these guys being put in situations and i can't wait
#i think even though this did wrap stuff up for a finale#it also set up some good situations for the next season#can't WAIT to see henren with a baby <3#madney WEDDING#bathena post cruise bliss!#911#911 spoilers#in the tags but still#atlas.txt
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caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.
caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.
when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.
he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.
caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.
"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."
"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"
he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.
when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.
two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.
but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.
"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.
"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.
he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.
it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.
he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.
all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.
caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.
he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.
even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.
when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).
but he stays. because it's you.
you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.
he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.
caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.
you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.
how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.
you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.
whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.
he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.
the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.
he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.
"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."
caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?
slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.
you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.
caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.
wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???
i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.
also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.
#love and deepspace#lads#lnds#lads caleb#lnds caleb#caleb lads#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x reader#lnds x reader#caleb x reader#caleb x mc#lads caleb x reader#lnds caleb x reader#caleb has taken over my brain like he's rotting it
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bf!rafe making it up to his stubborn girlfriend a/n a lil smthin based on this post eheh!!
A weary sigh escaped your throat, as you boredly scrolled through tiktok, with your boyfriend mere inches away, too busy conversing with Topper on the phone to direct his attention to you.
You knew how important business was for Rafe, but sometimes it got out of hand, with him forgetting himself on the phone, taking one call after another, completely abandoning you on his bed (like you’re one of his night stands; in your words).
Your lips tugged into a smile when you stumbled upon a funny video, chuckling as you sent it to Rafe, though you could’ve easily moved across the bed and shoved it in his face. That wasn’t a choice right now, as you were mad at him, too upset to humor him with silly cats whom you referred to as ‘us’ when you sent it to him.
The ping ringed through Rafe’s ear, earning a puzzled look out of the latter when he checked the notification, and noticed it was a video from you. He turned in your direction, eyebrows quirking with confusion, almost as if he was seeking an explanation for his silent question.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled around in bed, until you were no longer facing your boyfriend, giving him your back instead. You got back to scrolling through tiktok, hoping Rafe would get the hint and finally call it off for the night.
And he did, coming up with a random excuse to get rid of Topper, not giving him a chance to question Rafe before the boy already hung up, immediately checking the video you sent. You suppressed the smile forming on your lips as the sound of his giggles erupted through your ears, spiraling a fit of excitement through your chest.
“What is this?!” He asked, leaning against the bed frame, lips pursing into a pout when he didn't receive a response in return. “Hello? Baby?” Rafe paused for a moment, gaze fully fixed on you, in hopes of earning your attention. He scoffed, finally understanding what you were doing. “Are you ignoring me?”
His attention shifted back to the screen when his phone pinged with another notification from you, your said message causing him to grin from ear to ear.
‘shut up.’ and another, ‘dont speak 2 me.’
“Are you mad at me?” He cooed, tossing his phone to the side, before he eventually joined your side, nuzzling around to get comfortable now that your back pressed firmly over his chest. “C’mon, speak to me, why are you giving me the silent treatment?”
You remained silent, choking back a giggle when his face found the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses to your skin as his breath fanned over the flesh, the sensation like feather to your skin.
“Is this about Topper?” He questioned between kisses, voice slightly muffled. Rafe then wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing you closer to his chest, even more close than earlier, if that was even possible. “I’m sorry, you know I get busy sometimes, I don't mean to purposely ignore you.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Rafe perked up when you spoke, smiling as he took in the side of your face, your frown instantly replaced with a sheepish smile. “Might as well jus’ break up with me, since you’re so busy n’ all that stuff.”
“All that stuff?” He repeated, fully straightening in his position. He poked your cheek with his finger, giggling when you smacked his hand, feigning oblivion to your amused expression despite how annoyed you seemed. “Didn’t you just compare us to cats? You do that with everyone you break up with?”
“Hmm,” you hummed, giving in when Rafe tugged your chin, forcing your face in his direction. You pretended to think, grabbing his hand and kissing it, the gesture slightly catching Rafe off guard, well aware of how stubborn you are when you're upset. “Only with the handsome ones.”
“You think I’m handsome?” He muttered, voice dropping barely above a whisper. He leaned down, brushing his thumb over your lip. He pecked your forehead, the press of his plush lips tickling your flesh. “I’m sorry, I love you.”
“It’s okay,” you reassured, levelling yourself with Rafe as you straightened up, now face to face with him. “I jus’ missed you s’all, you know I require a lot of attention.”
“And I’m willing to give it to you,” he mumbled, “Missed,” a kiss, “my pretty,” and another, “girl.” You giggled, throwing your head back in an attempt to playfully dodge his kisses, merely for Rafe to chase after your lips, now fully pinning you to the bed. “Let’s watch more cat videos,” he said, grabbing your phone from the night stand. “Stop sulking with me, yeah?”
You rolled your eyes, maintaining a blank expression as Rafe set your phone in front of your face, waiting for face ID to work. “You’re so annoying.”
“And you love me,” he replied, face twisting into a frown as his fingers hovered over the screen. “Where the fuck is tiktok?”
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#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron drabble#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#drew starkey#outer banks
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think about things — fushiguro toji.
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“I don’t want to mess this up, babe.” he finally admitted, the words coming out in a low, almost reluctant rumble. “I don’t want to mess him up. I don’t want to be like my father, babe. I wanna be a good father to him. I want to love him so much and I just….” Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you. “You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: intense fluff, romance, mild-angst, pet names (baby, babe, treasure etc), love, humor, light-hearted, parenthood, married life, healthy relationship, newborn baby, being in love, slice of life, domestic life, family, anxiety, emotional trauma, emotional suffering, self-doubt, encouragement, depictions of anxiety, depiction of healthy relationship, depiction of married life, depiction of parenthood, depiction of self-doubt, depiction of emotional trauma, mention of familial issues, mention of childhood trauma, mention of emotional suffering, mention of breast-feeding, husband! toji, mamaguro! reader, baby! megumi, normalize having a proud house-husband and father at home, ladies, gents and non-binary friends!;
WORD COUNT: 7k words
NOTE: after writing so much sad stuff, i knew i had to write something really cute and something relatively happy, for the most part. i asked my beta reader what they wanted to see from me - toji or gojo and they said toji. and well, here we are. the song this is based off from is called think about things by daði freyr.
also what megumi accidentally said was ゴミ which expresses waste/garbage, encompassing things made by human acts. precious little megumi intended to say ごま which is sesame. megumi is still only a few months old!!! he's still learning how to speak!!! in any case, i hope you enjoyed this. i love you all!!! see you in the next one <3
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FUSHIGURO TOJI THINKS HE’S NEVER BELIEVED IN WONDER. From the moment he was born, such a thing did not exist. Not even his mother believed it. Not even when he was born. But he thinks that after her sufferings, he wouldn't doubt it that he too inherited such grief and pain too.
Even having grown up in a sorcerer clan, where he saw things that could make anyone go in awe — nothing about it had made him feel like there was anything worth the thought. Nothing about being a Zenin was worth wondering or for that matter, worth remembering.
But everything after that, especially when you came into his life, did he think they were possible. That wonders did exist in this life and he could have it. He was worth having. He was worth giving such wonders to.
And everything about wonder, he had learned from you. Every sense of the word, the texture, the taste, the feeling. Everything started when he met you. Every good thing sprung into life, like spring, when he met you.
Fushiguro Toji believed that each person has only truly had three special wonders in their lives, nothing more and nothing less. It was almost something out of a genie’s lamp. Three wishes, three gifts, three wonders.
And Toji likes to think that he’s used up all his three wonders. But he was alright with that. He liked to think that he was content with having used it up. Because everything about his life now consisted of those three wonders.
The first was when he first saw you, and then smiled at him so warmly. The second was when you agreed to marry him and spend the rest of your life with him. And the third? Oh, nothing could ever beat the third. That day when you made him a father, the day when your precious son Megumi was born into this world.
Toji couldn’t help but stay there for a moment, his large frame silhouetted against the soft light spilling in from the hallway. He didn’t dare move too quickly or too loudly, worried that even the smallest disturbance might wake his precious son Megumi. And yet, despite the quiet, his mind was anything but still.
He had fought the worst of the worst in life, faced death more times than he could count, and lived a life dictated by survival. But none of that had prepared him for this: the weight of fatherhood.
Not the kind of weight that came from responsibility or the logistical burdens of raising a child. No, this was heavier. This was the realization that he was holding the entirety of someone else’s future in his calloused, scarred hands.
When Fushiguro Megumi had first been placed in his arms at the hospital, Toji had frozen. The baby was impossibly small, a bundle wrapped in a soft blanket that felt foreign against his skin.
Toji had stared down at the little face, this precious little face and saw that little face be endlessly red and then pale. He saw that face turn red again as the features scrunched up and echo into those heart-wrenching fits of crying.
For a split second, all he could admit to was his heart racing so fast against his chest. He was nothing but panicked. Toji never thought he would ever end up finding himself terrified of something.
He was terrified that he couldn’t stop his baby from crying. He was terrified of how small he was, and how big his hands could be to hold something as precious as this little boy. Just as fast, Toji had ended up thinking about all the things he didn’t know: how to soothe him, how to feed him, how to even hold him properly.
He didn’t know how to. How does a father look tenderly at his baby son and tell him it’s going to be alright? How does a father let his voice be the calmest and quietest comfort in the world? How does a father have soft kind hands with such scarred, brutish hands?
Toji couldn’t help it but he stood there, holding the most precious wonder in life and had just as quickly thought of all the ways he might fail — panicked and afraid, wondering if there was ever going to be a chance that he’ll end up doing well. That he’d end up doing right by this precious wonder, this precious treasure.
But now, almost eight months later, Fushiguro Toji stood here watching his son sleep, something shifted.
His little Megumi’s tiny fingers twitched again, his expression relaxing into something peaceful. He was so precious in this way, Toji thinks. The world stops and becomes a bright wonder for his son.
Toji’s lips quivered into a crooked smile, a tender warmth spreading through his chest that he hadn’t known ever existed before he’d had his little boy, his precious treasure. He crouched down, resting his forearms on the edge of the crib, and let his voice drop to a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.
“You’re so small still, hm?” he said softly, almost as if confessing to the baby. “Smaller than I thought. And yet you are growing so much. Even bigger than back at the hospital, when you were born. But... I guess it’s cos you’re a big boy already, aren’t you? Our Megumi’s already growing, huh? Doin’ everything you could to be stronger.”
For a moment, he couldn’t help but hesitate as his fingers brushed against Megumi’s back. His little son moved slightly, against the touch. He must know his father was here. But Toji felt weary about waking his little son up.
He was up for a while, and only just fell asleep a while ago. But Megumi went back soundly to sleep. And Toji felt some relief. His precious boy is going to get some rest tonight.
“Hey ‘gumi. I’m gonna be here, okay? Not like my father.” His voice felt thicker at those words, despite the fact that Every step of the way. I don’t know if I’m good at this... but I’ll try, kid. I’ll always try.”
The words came out unpolished, unpracticed, but there was a rawness in them that surprised even him. Toji never thought of himself as the sentimental type, but Megumi had a way of drawing things out of him that he didn’t even know were there.
Maybe it was the way your little son had come to look like you, or maybe it was the undeniable fact that your precious treasure named Fushiguro Megumi was part of him—a part he didn’t know he could love so much.
As he continued to watch, Megumi stirred again, this time letting out a tiny sound that made Toji’s chest ache. He reached out hesitantly, his hand hovering over the crib for a moment before finally brushing against the baby’s blanket-covered chest. It was a small, tentative gesture, but it felt monumental.
“I don’t know what you’ll think about the world, or me one day, you know?” Toji murmured, his voice almost a whisper now. “But I want to know. Someday, when you’re big enough to talk, I’ll listen. To every little thing. And until then... I’ll keep trying to figure this out.”
The baby’s breathing deepened, a soft sigh escaping him, and Toji let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He straightened, glancing down at Megumi. The truth was, Toji had never expected to live a life where someone else depended on him.
He’d grown up in a world where strength was currency, where attachments were liabilities, and where survival meant keeping your guard up at all costs. That was how it was when you were born a Zenin. No ifs, no buts.
He had lived in the shadows of loss and anger for so long that the idea of something so beautiful and uncorrupted and pure, something as delicate and innocent as his precious treasure Megumi—felt almost impossible to comprehend. And for that pure existence to be born from him, because of him.
Toji couldn’t help but feel like it wasn’t real. That something with such a cursed existence as him could ever have something like happiness. And yet, here he was. His precious son, born out of love between you and him. And he could see him.
Even now as he’s standing outside that room, chest tight with a strange combination of fear and determination — he convinces himself that his son was here, his precious son was here, because he loved him. Because he loved you. And he deserves this. This was the life he deserves. He always will.
For a moment, he closes his eyes and takes a breath. Before long, he whispers a good-night to his little one and flees to the living room, just near his son’s room. If Megumi gets hungry, he’ll bring him some of your milk stock from the fridge. There was no reason to wake you. You still had work later.
He goes to the couch and closes his eyes again. He had to go and get some rest here. If he comes back to bed, he might be too loud when he gets back in. And he’d want to be there quickly if Megumi needed anything. That’s what he was here for, as your loving house-husband. But he finds that he can’t sleep.
Even now, he still can’t help but feel restless. What if he gets too much sleep and he doesn’t wake up? He had to make you and Megumi breakfast in the morning too. He opened his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling before a soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.
“Toji? Baby?”
It was you, standing a few steps away, wrapped in the oversized robe you always wore around the house. Your hair was slightly mussed, your face soft with the haze of sleep, but your eyes were sharp, focused. You must have noticed the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched and unclenched as though he was wrestling with himself.
“Is everything okay?” you asked, voice gentle but edged with concern.
Toji turned to look at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a small, almost sheepish shrug, he nodded. “Yeah. He’s asleep.”
You stepped closer, your hand finding its way to his arm. Your touch was grounding, and Toji found himself leaning into it without realizing. “You’re sure? You look... tense.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Tense, huh? Guess that’s not wrong.” He glanced back at the door, his voice dropping to something softer, more vulnerable. “I was just... thinking.”
“About?”
“About him.” His blue–green eyes met yours briefly before flickering away, as though the weight of his thoughts was too much to share directly. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, you know? I look at him, and... he’s so small. So... breakable. And I—”
He stopped, biting back the words, his brows furrowing. You squeezed his arm gently, waiting for him to find the rest of his sentence. You knew that your husband has had a lot of concern about being a father.
He’s told you some of what he’d experienced as a child, and sometimes about his father. But not everything. So, this was the first time you’ve heard things from him personally, this loud and this vulnerable. Your face contorts at his pain.
“I don’t want to mess this up, babe.” he finally admitted, the words coming out in a low, almost reluctant rumble. “I don’t want to mess him up. I don’t want to be like my father, babe. I wanna be a good father to him. I want to love him so much and I just….”
Your heart ached at the rawness in his voice, at the vulnerability he rarely let show. You stepped closer, wrapping your arms around his middle and pressing your cheek against his chest. For a moment, he stiffened. He always did, as though he wasn’t quite used to comfort—but then he relaxed, his arms circling around you.
“You won’t mess him up, baby.” you said softly. “You love him. You won’t end up like your father. You love Megumi, he is our treasure. That’s why you love him. That’s what matters most. And you’re trying. That’s more than enough.”
He let out another shaky breath, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “Trying doesn’t feel like enough,” he muttered. “Not for him. He deserves... more.”
“He deserves you, baby.” you corrected, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “The you who’s here, who’s holding him, who’s promising to be there. That’s all he needs. That’s all we both need.”
For a long moment, Fushiguro Toji just stared at you, his blue-green eyes searching your own bright orbs as though trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. Finally, he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible dip of his head. His face looked a little bit more relaxed, with your reassurance.
“Yeah…..” he said quietly. “Okay.”
You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. “Come on. Let’s get some rest. You’ll need your energy when he wakes up in the middle of the night.”
“Babe, I should stay here—”
“No, no. You have super hearing, baby. You can get up when he wakes up. Come on, stop being a helicopter parent already and let our son sleep.”
Toji groaned softly at your words, but there was a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he let you guide him down the hall. For now, he would take things one moment at a time. One step at a time.
Because for all the uncertainty, for all the fears that lingered in the back of his mind, one thing was clear: he had a family now. A real one. And for them, Fushiguro Toji would do anything.
══════════════════
YOUR MATERNAL LEAVE IS FINALLY OVER. So in a way, the house was quieter now. Quieter than Fushiguro Toji had expected it to be with a growing baby around, though the stillness wasn’t something he disliked.
And with how you’d gone back to work today, leaving him to take care of Megumi for the first time on his own. So Fushiguro Toji was certain, he was going to have all hands on deck.
He’d joked about it before you left, tossing off some comments about how hard it could be. But now, standing in the living room with his tiny son in his arms, he was realizing it was more daunting than he let on.
He’d had you around the house for a long while and he had gotten used to it. He had become a rusty house–husband and more so, an already rusty father.
Fushiguro Megumi couldn’t help but fuss a little, with his little face scrunching up in that telltale way that meant a cry wasn’t far behind.
Toji sighed a little, looking softly at his precious boy as he shifted him gently, cradling him against his chest and bouncing on his heels like he’d seen you do a hundred times before.
“Hey, ‘gumi. Easy, okay?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I gotcha. No need to get all worked up.”
Megumi quieted, though his tiny fists still curled and uncurled against Toji’s shirt. Toji looked down at him, his expression softening. Tired as he was, he was always content when he looked at his son. Everything pays off.
It wasn’t often he let himself feel this—this quiet kind of contentment. But when he was holding Megumi, feeling his warmth and hearing his little breaths, it was impossible not to. Everything Toji does, everything you both do; it’s all for Megumi.
“Toji?” You’d asked that morning, lingering by the door as you prepared to leave. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Me?” he’d scoffed, smirking. “I’ve handled worse than a baby, you know. I’d be fine with our son, babe. Trust me.”
But now, hours later, Toji found himself pacing the living room, humming softly under his breath to keep Megumi calm. A melody came to him,something his mother used to sing. It was very rare for his mother to hold him for that long, that he’d remember. But she’d held him enough to hum melodies to him. Those were Toji’s first memories.
They weren’t overcomplicated tunes, if one was to hear it. If anything, they were the kind you don’t think about too hard—something simple, warm, and steady. But sometimes, he’d remember the lyrics. And Toji would find that those words would stir something in his little son, as much as they do for him, remembering his own mother.
Toji didn’t know if his voice was good enough to be heard, or to be enjoyed in a song. But Megumi seems to not mind his voice. If anything, little Megumi seems to be fond of his voice. And Toji relished that thought. He might not be the best in the world in singing, but he’s glad that at the very least, it comforts his son.
“When we are together….” he sang quietly, his deep voice surprisingly tender. “There isn’t anywhere that I would rather be.”
Megumi stirred, his dark blue–green orbs tiredly blinking up at his father, and Toji couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight. He kept rocking his little boy gently, the words of the song coming easier now, as though they belonged to this moment.
“Three birds of a feather…..” he continued, his lips quivering in a half-smile, memories of his mother flooding his mind. “I just hope you enjoy our company.”
His little son couldn’t help but gurgle softly at his words, and Toji took that as a good sign, his confidence growing. He walked to the large window overlooking the bright flourishing garden he had planted and let the beckoning sunlight spill over them both.
“It’s been some time and though hard to define, as if the stars have started to align…” He continued to sing softly. Toji looked down at Megumi again, his expression uncharacteristically gentle. “We are bound together, now and forever. And I will never let you go.”
His little baby boy cooed, his little hand reaching up to grasp at the fabric of Toji’s tight shirt. Toji stilled, staring at the tiny fingers that clung to him as though Megumi understood every word he’d just sung. He couldn’t help but snicker.
“Yeah, you and me, kid.” he murmured. “And mama, too. Never forget your precious mama, hm? We’re always going to be three birds of a feather, okay?”
The quiet stretched on as Toji carried Megumi back to the couch, easing down into the cushions while keeping the baby close. He thought about you, about how hard it must have been for you to leave this morning, even though you tried to hide it. He thought about how much you trusted him to take care of Megumi, how much faith you had in him to do right by your son.
And as the baby drifted off to sleep in his arms, Fushiguro Toji felt it again—that strange, overwhelming sense of belonging. It wasn’t something he’d sought out, and it sure as hell wasn’t something he thought he deserved. But as he sat there, holding Megumi, he realized that this was it. This was everything.
When you returned home later that day from work, you were tired. But you couldn’t stop smiling. As you got closer inside you found them both on the couch. Your husband Toji was leaning back, his head tilted to the side, dozing lightly. Your treasure, little Megumi, was nestled against his father’s chest, his little hand still clutching at Toji’s shirt.
You stood there for a moment, your heart swelling at the sight, and whispered. “Three birds of a feather, all three of us. Just like you said, huh, baby?”
And though Toji didn’t stir, a faint smile tugged at his lips, as if he’d heard you all the same. You stepped closer, the quiet creak of the floorboards barely stirring the peaceful scene in front of you. Toji’s chest rose and fell steadily, his broad arms wrapped protectively around Megumi.
Your heart swelled as you watched them, a moment of stillness in your otherwise chaotic world. It wasn’t a sight you’d ever imagined when you first met Toji, but now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Careful not to wake either of them, you crouched by the couch and reached out, gently brushing your fingers through Megumi’s soft hair. His tiny face was relaxed, his mouth slightly open in the kind of sleep only babies seemed to achieve. Your gaze shifted to Toji, his sharp features softened by the faint glow of the setting sun spilling through the window.
“Toji, baby.” you whispered, keeping your voice low. “I’m home.”
His bright blue–green eyes cracked open, the colors of his irises catching the light. He blinked slowly, as if pulling himself out of a dream, and then his gaze landed on you. He processed the world and it stopped when he looked at you. Like when he met you. A small, lazy smile crept onto your husband’s beautiful lips.
“Hey, babe.” he murmured, his voice rough from sleep. “You’re back. Welcome home.”
You nodded, your fingers still brushing over Megumi’s hair. “How was it? Your first day as the primary stay at home parent for the first time?”
Toji huffed a quiet laugh, shifting slightly without jostling Megumi. “Didn’t burn the place down, did I?”
You grinned, leaning your chin on the edge of the couch. “I don’t see any scorch marks at all, baby. I’d say that’s a win.”
He snorted softly, but there was a flicker of something deeper in his expression—something vulnerable. “He’s… a lot quieter than I thought he’d be. I’d always thought that young kids would be like that but….Megumi spent most of the day just watching me like I was some kind of puzzle he was trying to figure out.”
“That’s Megumi for you, you know?” you said, your smile softening. “He’s always been observant. Like someone else I know.”
Toji raised a brow, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he looked down at the baby in his arms, his hand shifting to rest against Megumi’s back. For a moment, he was silent, and then he spoke, his voice quieter this time.
“He’s a good kid, our little ‘gumi.” he said, almost to himself. “He doesn’t even cry much. Just stares at me like he’s waiting for me to say something smart.”
You laughed softly, careful not to wake the baby. “And did you?”
“Course not, babe.” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “But I… I talked to him. Sang, too.”
Your eyes widened slightly. You slowly smiled. You loved your husband’s voice too. And you were certain that your love for his voice was transported to your son too. “You sang to him, baby?”
Toji rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it, babe. He seemed to like it, that’s all.”
Your heart melted at the thought of Toji singing to Megumi, his deep voice wrapping around words meant only for his son. You reached out, your hand covering his where it rested on Megumi’s back.
“You’re doing great, baby.” you said softly. “You know that, right? I’m so proud of you.”
He glanced at you, his expression guarded for a moment before it softened. “I’m just… figuring it out as I go. Don’t wanna mess this up.”
“You won’t, baby. I’m certain about your success.” you assured him. “Not with how much you care about him.”
Toji didn’t respond right away, but his grip on Megumi tightened slightly, as if to anchor himself. After a moment, he nodded, his gaze dropping back to the sleeping baby. He lets out a relieved sigh before letting a small smile echo on his lips.
“Yeah, I guess so.” he murmured. “We’re figuring it out. The three of us.”
“Three birds of a feather, you told me before.” you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could think about it. “We’ll figure it all out.”
Toji’s lips echoed into a bigger smile, and he glanced at you, his green eyes warm. “Yeah. That sounds about right.”
As the sun dipped lower, casting a golden glow over the room, you stayed there by the couch, your hand resting over his. It wasn’t perfect, and it wouldn’t always be easy.
But as you looked at the two of them, your husband and your son, you felt the stars aligning. You were bound together, now and forever. And none of you would ever let go.
══════════════════
TODAY WAS A DAY OFF. So Toji had let you doze off for a little while longer. He thought that with how you were trying to still settle with balancing life as a new mother and also a career woman, it takes a toll on you.
And more than anything, you deserve a chance to have some chance to just relax. So, you hadn’t noticed how long you had actually slept until you saw the clock by your bedside table. 10:30 am. You sat up immediately.
The moment you stepped out of your room, you tried to be as quiet as possible. A smile echoes across your lips as you find yourself stopping and listening for a moment. You could hear Toji’s deep voice coming from the living room.
It had that playful lilt he used only with Megumi—low and teasing, with just a hint of childish mockery. You smiled to yourself as you moved toward the source of the commotion.
In the living room, you found the two of them on the floor. Your two boys had a little bubble of their own. And you suspect that they've had that bubble since before dawn. Megumi gets angsty and wakes up at that time, wanting some milk.
Your husband Toji was sitting cross-legged, Megumi perched in front of him on a soft play mat. Your son’s little face was scrunched up in what could only be described as a glare, his tiny fists clenched at his sides. Your husband Toji, still rather oblivious to the budding storm brewing in his child, was grinning like an idiot.
“Megumi, hey..... kid….what’s that look for?” Toji was saying, leaning down so their faces were at the same level. “What’s with that intense focus, huh? You pooping or what? You gotta let papa know, so he can prepare. Your poop goes nuclear, you know that? Papa smells it on his hands even after he washes, hm?”
Megumi let out a frustrated sound, his little glare intensifying, which only made Toji laugh harder. “Yeah, you’re definitely working on something, aren’t you? What’s it gonna be, huh? A big one?”
“Gomi!” Megumi suddenly blurted, his little voice sharp and determined as he glared daggers at his father.
Fushiguro Toji couldn’t help but freeze up. He found himself blinking in surprise. For a moment, the world stood still as he tried to process what his little son just said, as perhaps — his very first word.
“What?” he asked, tilting his head like he’d misheard. “Did you just call me gomi?”
You couldn’t hold back your laugh anymore, clutching the wall for support as you doubled over. The absurdity of the situation, paired with Toji’s stunned expression, was too much.Your son was always so full of surprises.
“Oh my god, baby…..he called you trash!” you managed between laughs.
Toji turned his wide-eyed gaze to you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to figure out how to defend himself. “Hey, wait a minute! I don’t think he meant—”
“Gomi!” Megumi said again, louder this time, pointing a tiny finger at his father. His glare hadn’t wavered in the slightest, his baby cheeks puffed out in sheer indignation.
“I swear to the heavens above…” Toji said, now more flustered than you’d ever seen him. “I’m not gomi! What the hell, kid?!”
Still laughing, you finally found your balance from the laughing fits. You walked over and lowered yourself as you scooped Megumi into your arms, kissing his head as his tiny arms flailed indignantly. Your husband’s frown was evident frustration.
“I don’t think our son’s not calling you trash, baby.” you said, wiping a tear from your eye. “He’s trying to say goma. Sesame. He’s been seeing it in TV commercials when I feed him some milk these past few nights. He might have caught up with it and babbled it and…it just didn’t end up as translated.”
Toji stared at you, then at Megumi, who was now nestled against your chest, still glaring at him like he’d committed the ultimate betrayal. “Sesame?” Toji repeated, frowning. “Why the hell is he glaring at me, then?”
“Maybe because you keep asking him if he’s pooping, baby.” you said with a grin, bouncing Megumi lightly to calm him down. “Honestly, baby, would you want someone to do that to you?”
Toji groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Great. First real word he says to me, and it’s calling me gomi, babe. Kid’s already taking after you.”
You snorted, pressing another kiss to Megumi’s cheek. “Don’t blame me because he’s got taste, baby. Our son takes after his mother well!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Toji grumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He reached out and ruffled Megumi’s hair, despite the baby’s continued glare. “Fine, kid. I’ll let it lose this time okay? You win this time, hm? But papa is not a gomi, got it?”
Megumi didn’t respond, but the glare softened just enough for Toji to let out a relieved sigh. “That’s what I thought. Just like your mama.” he muttered, before looking back at you. “Are you laughing at me the whole time?”
“Absolutely, baby.” you said with a grin. “And I’ll be telling this story forever.”
Toji groaned again, but you caught the corner of his mouth twitching upward, unable to hide his fondness as he watched Megumi settle back into your arms. Even when his son thought he was trash, Toji couldn’t help but adore him.
As the laughter subsided and your little Megumi relaxed in your arms, you couldn’t help but keep grinning at the ridiculous scene you’d just walked in on. It was like your husband found himself in outer space. And he was still debating whether aliens were real.
Fushiguro Toji sat back on his hands, still looking flabbergasted as his blue-green eyes darted between you and Megumi. HIs eyes narrowed for a moment and then a short breath releases from his lips. He shook his head, muttering under his breath.
“Unbelievable.” he grumbled, though there was a clear hint of amusement now in his tone. “First words. Gomi. What are the odds?”
You chuckled, bouncing Megumi lightly on your hip. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. He’s been trying to say goma all week, and you just happened to push his buttons at the wrong time.”
“Pushed his buttons?” Toji said, straightening up. “All I did was ask if he was pooping! That’s fair game when someone’s giving you that face!”
You couldn’t help but laugh again, glancing down at Megumi, who was still sporting a little frown but had mostly calmed down. “Maybe he’s tired of you questioning his dignity, baby.” you teased. “He’s got standards, you know.”
“Standards?” Toji repeated, narrowing his eyes at his son. “This coming from a kid who tried to eat his own foot this morning?”
“Gomi!” Megumi declared again, his little finger pointing accusingly at Toji, as if to double down on his stance.
You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling as you tried to hold Megumi steady. “Oh my god, Toji, baby. It's rough! you’ve been officially labeled. There’s no coming back from this now!”
Toji let out a long, exaggerated sigh, dragging a hand down his face before flopping dramatically onto his back. “This kid’s out to get me. This is just....ugh.” he mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. “First it’s gomi, next thing I know, he’ll be telling his teachers I’m a garbage dad.”
“You’ll survive, baby.” you said with a grin, moving to sit beside him on the mat. Megumi squirmed in your arms, reaching out toward Toji with his chubby little hands. “See? He doesn’t mean it. He loves you, trash talk and all.”
Toji sat up just enough to take Megumi from you, holding the baby in front of him at arm’s length as if inspecting him for further insults. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Megumi.” he said, narrowing his blue-green eyes towards his little boy.
Megumi stared back at him, his lips twitching as if he was trying to form another word. For a moment, both you and Toji held your breath, waiting to see what would come out next.
“Gooooo-ma.” Megumi finally said, his voice softer this time, and he clapped his little hands together as if proud of himself. "Go-ma!"
Toji blinked, his expression shifting from stunned to triumphant. “There it is! Goma! That’s what you meant, huh? Not gomi. Goma! Great job, ‘gumi!”
“Good job, my little treasure!” you cheered, clapping along with Megumi.
Toji puffed out his chest, grinning at you like he’d just won a major battle. “See? I told you the kid doesn’t think I’m trash.”
“Oh, don’t act like you weren’t sweating there for a second, baby.” you teased, nudging him playfully.
“Whatever.” he said, pulling Megumi closer and nuzzling his cheek, much to the baby’s delight. “This little guy knows his old man’s the best out there, hm? Don’t you, kid?”
Megumi giggled, reaching up to grab a handful of Toji’s hair. Your rather contently resigned husband snickered, taking a deep sigh and letting his son do as he wished.
You let out a small laugh, your heart warm. Life was great like this. And you were truly grateful, as much as you know Toji was, that this was your life day to day.
“Yeah, yeah, baby.” you said with a fond smile, watching them. “For now, at least. Just wait until he starts picking up on all your bad habits.”
Toji shot you a playful glare, but there was nothing but warmth in his eyes as he cradled Megumi against his chest. “Bad habits, huh? I’ll teach him the important stuff. Like how to dodge a jab and—”
“And maybe not how to taunt people until they call you garbage.” you cut in, smirking at your husband.
Toji groaned, but the sound was filled with affection. “Fine, fine. You win this one. But just wait. Next word he says is gonna be dad. Calling it now, babe. Third time’s the charm!”
“Whatever you say, gomi–kun.” you teased, unable to resist one last jab.
He shot you a look, but the soft laugh he let out was enough to tell you he didn’t mind. In fact, you could tell he was enjoying every bit of this—your teasing, Megumi’s growing personality, the quiet chaos of your little family.
And as you watched him hold Megumi, the baby now giggling uncontrollably as Fushiguro Toji playfully poked his chubby cheeks, you knew there was no place any of you both would rather be.
Especially your beloved husband. Even if Megumi decided to call him gomi again tomorrow. That all didn't matter. As long as you were together, happy and content.
══════════════════
epilogue
The next morning, after breakfast and while you were doing the laundry, the air was thick with anticipation. The kind of anticipation that only a determined father can have when his child is on the verge of accomplishing a great feat—like calling him "oto-san" or "dad".
Toji, sitting on the floor cross-legged like he was preparing for a life-altering event, had a ridiculous amount of hope in his eyes. Megumi was seated in front of him on the playmat, his big bright blue–green eyes wide and serious, as if he understood the gravity of the moment.
“Oto-san.” Toji said, his voice impossibly soft, practically dripping with encouragement. “Say it with me, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it, little man.”
Megumi, who was sitting cross-legged just like his dad (it was adorable how he tried to copy every little thing Toji did), looked up at him, his tiny face scrunched up as he processed the words. He was staring at Toji like he was decoding some ancient language, his eyes darting from Toji's mouth to his eyes, clearly focused.
Toji waited, leaning in a little closer as though the two of them were sharing a secret. “Oto-san. Come on. Say it.” Toji repeated slowly for his little son. “O-to-san.”
Megumi blinked once, twice, and you could practically hear the little gears turning in his mind, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was exaggerated. “Gomi!”
You couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing. The way your Toji looked completely deflated at the sound of the word—again—was too much. He had been trying so hard to do what he could since this morning and so far, Megumi hasn't been cooperating.
He slumped back onto his hands, shaking his head in mock exasperation, though you could see the smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts to act annoyed.
"Not again, kid!" Toji groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “I’m not gomi! I’m Oto-san! You’re really gonna call me trash again, huh?”
Megumi, blissfully unaware of the comedic frustration he was causing, grinned up at Toji. His tiny face lit up like a lightbulb, pleased with the attention, clearly proud of himself for having mastered the art of taunting his father in a single syllable.
“I swear, kid…..” Toji muttered, but his voice was full of affection. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
You leaned against the doorframe, watching the whole thing unfold, utterly charmed by the two of them. Toji, the intimidating figure who was capable of single-handedly taking down enemies twice his size, now reduced to a pile of goo over his son’s simple interactions.
And Fushiguro Megumi, with his wide, innocent eyes, staring at his dad like he was the most important person in the world.
“Let’s try again, okay?” Toji said, his tone shifting back to encouragement. “Come on, Megumi. O-to-san. You can do it.”
Megumi was still focused on Toji, his big eyes narrowed in thought, like he was really going to work for this one. And for a moment, Toji’s gaze softened, watching his son struggle so seriously with something as simple as a word. There was no trace of impatience on his face now, only patience and quiet joy at being in this moment with his son, who was so determined.
“O-to-san” Toji repeated slowly, the words rolling off his tongue like they were sacred, full of meaning. “O-to-san.”
Megumi blinked again and then, just as you thought the whole thing was going to repeat itself with another triumphant “Gomi” — your little treasure of a son did something that was rather unexpected, even for his own father.
He looked down at his little hands for a moment, and then, in a burst of focus, he looked back up at Toji. This time, his little mouth formed the word slowly, with effort. “O...to...san.”
Toji froze. His entire body stilled, as if the universe itself had shifted. He blinked, then blinked again, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Did... did you just say—” His voice was breathless, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Did you just say... Oto-san?”
Megumi’s face lit up with an innocent pride, a mischievous little grin spreading across his face as though he knew he’d just done something monumental. He reached up, patting Toji’s cheek, as if confirming what had just happened.
Toji, his heart swelling with emotions you didn’t even know he was capable of, immediately scooped Megumi into his arms. The baby squealed, giggling in surprise as he was lifted up, and Toji held him close, pressing his cheek against his son’s own chubby ones.
“You did it, kid. You really said it. O-to-san.” He repeated it like he was relishing every syllable. “Dad. Oto–san.” he whispered, almost in awe. “You said it.”
You couldn’t contain the warm laugh that bubbled up from your chest, a soft, happy sound that filled the room as you walked over to them. You bent down, brushing a hand through Megumi’s soft hair as he clung to his dad, who was still holding him in a vice grip, clearly elated.
“Oh my god, Toji, baby.” you said, grinning from ear to ear. “You did it. You’re officially Oto-san.”
Toji looked up at you, a grin breaking across his face, his eyes shining with joy. “You hear that? Oto-san! He said it!” His voice was practically vibrating with excitement.
You leaned in to kiss Megumi’s cheek, and he responded by beaming up at you, his tiny arms reaching toward both of you as if he was basking in the love that was flooding the room. "He’s got his first word," you said softly, holding him gently. “Oto-san.”
Toji’s expression softened, his hands tightening around his son as if he were trying to hold onto this moment forever. “Man, I never thought I’d get to hear that. First ‘gomi’ and then ‘Oto-san’... I’m already getting my father of the year award.”
“Definitely, baby.” you teased, sitting down beside them. “First he calls you trash, now he’s calling you dad. You’re on a roll!”
Toji grinned widely, holding Megumi up like he’d just won a trophy. “Yeah, well, I’m Oto-san now. All the ‘gomi’ in the world can’t take that away from me.”
Megumi, as if he understood the gravity of the moment, raised his hands in a victorious gesture, causing both of you to laugh. Toji’s joy was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell that, for him, this moment, this small, perfect moment—was everything to your husband.
As you all sat together, with Megumi snuggled between you and Toji, you couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Toji might have started this whole "Oto-san" lesson with a bit of desperation, but now, he was on top of the world.
The way Megumi had slowly figured out the word, and the way Toji had been so patient—there was a deep love in the room. It wasn’t just about the word itself; it was about the bond they were building.
“I think he’s got it, baby.” you said, watching as Toji continued to whisper the word to Megumi. “Oto-san... your first real word. He’ll be saying it a lot from now on.”
Toji, still holding Megumi close, sighed happily, a sense of peace settling over him. “Yeah.” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “Oto-san. I’m good with that.”
And in that moment, with the three of you together in the warmth of your home, everything felt right.
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji zenin x reader#toji zenin x you#zenin toji x reader#toji fushiguro#toji zenin#fushiguro toji#jujutsu toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#jjk toji#zenin toji#mamaguro#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi
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KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE PRIZE
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DARK CONTENT inho x reader
warnings — noncon, cockwarming, guns, squid game stuff
i’m begging you. if you don’t fuck with noncon and you hate it so much, then don’t fucking read this. 18+
a whole waterfall coming down your face, lip quivering, biting back your sobs. he said he’d make it even worse if you made a sound. so you decide to replace the sobs that you couldn’t let out with heavy breaths. you were about to start hyperventilating. legs tied to his, he was balls deep in you, forcing you to cockwarm him with your arms tied behind your back. god, you felt like you were gonna puke. you feel his cold gloves slide under your tracksuit jacket and onto your bare stomach, making you shiver.
“what’s got you so tense? are the games getting boring?”
you shake your head no, and he shifts under you. you know he did it on purpose, it wasn’t done to get comfortable, it was done to fuck with you. feeling his dick move in you and feeling yourself clench around him. you hated it. he laughs lightly before moving his head into your shoulder to get a better view of the games. he squeezed your arm with one of his hands, the other still wrapped around your stomach. you had to watch all these people die, you put your head down. this was sick. he was sick. he lets go of your arm and grabs your chin, lifting it to make you keep watching.
“keep your eyes up. this is nice of me, no? i could pick up this gun right now and shoot you just like them. it won’t hurt me. i still got what i want.”
he moves his hand from your chin and taps the gun on his table. you hadn’t even noticed it until he said something. he picks it up for a second, wiggling it at you tauntingly before putting it back down. he runs his hands through your hair and wraps his arms all around you, pulling your back right into his chest. you don’t know how, but somehow that made his dick go even deeper, and you quickly try to lift yourself up off of him, despite your legs being tied down to his own. he quickly grips your hips and pulls you back down before slapping you on the inside of your thigh, hard, causing you to flinch up and bounce on his dick, immediately you pause and suck the air through your teeth, more tears dribbling down, all while hearing a low dark laugh from behind you. an evil man you thought was your friend. a man you thought you could trust.
“yknow,”
he grabs a glass of whine from his table and presses it to his lips.
“you’d think you’d be happy.”
he moves the glass to sit on your thigh, a quiet way of telling you to stay still. wouldn’t wanna spill it on his nice suit after all.
“i mean, instead of running the risk of getting shot, now you just have to stay here and run the risk of not pleasing me.”
you swallow hard, your chest rising up and down quickly still as you try to keep your head up to watch these sick games, the whole time you’re looking for gihun and your group, hoping they’re okay. he moves the glass off your thigh and blindly presses the glass to your lips. you move your head away and the wine spills on you, painting the once green jacket completely red. it was the only safety net that you had that he allowed you to keep. that stupid jacket covered in blood and now wine. it was gross, but at least you weren’t completely bare. it didn’t stop him from touching you though, clearly, but it gave you some sort of comfort. he sighs before putting the glass back on the table and you tense more as he rubs his hands up your arms, scared of what was to come next.
“so? what’s going on in that head of yours?”
you take a deep breath before finally speaking to him.
“you’re a liar.”
he simply laughs and he moves once again, making you squeeze your eyes shut and you bite your lip.
“i want to go.”
“you’d rather play the games?”
you slowly nod your head and he hums before you hear something on his table move and something pressed against your back. you try to twist yourself to look behind at him, but he simply grips your arm, sending a threat your way to turn back around towards the tv and you obey.
“let’s play a game then.”
you hear the sound of a gun cocking and he presses it back to you and that’s when you knew what was pressing against your back, causing you to whimper.
“what? i thought you wanted to play.”
“i—”
he moves the gun away from your back and up to your neck and you choke on your words. you feel his hand shift before you hear the loud bang of the gun, causing you to scream, thinking that the bullet went through your head as you sob out, choking on your own tears. coughing everywhere and your chest heaving. he wraps his arm around your neck and pulls you into his back again cutting off some of your air flow and rests his other arm with the gun onto your exposed lap. you felt his cock twitch in you, but any other sensations were dulled out from the fear you were in. it had all felt almost numb.
“you still wanna play the games?”
he positioned the gun under your chin, lifting it up and you let out a choked up ‘no’. he decides to remove it and you finally stop holding your breath. he moves it in front of your face and waves it slightly before placing it back on the table beside him, but it didn’t comfort you in the slightest. your chest was stil heaving and the beads of sweat dripping down your forehead didn’t slow down in the slightest. you hear him sigh behind you before sitting up straighter and doing the slightest movements and the slowest thrusts in you. you immediately start moving your wrists in the restraints, straining to free them, throwing your head down and trying to squirm away and free your legs from his. he just holds the sides of your arms tightly, definitely bruising them under his gloved hands and he continues to grind under you, a small laugh coming from him as he feels you clench around him and he moves his gloved hand from your arm to the inside of your thigh, squeezing it before he sticks a gloved finger in you, lying right next to his dick, stretching you even more and finally a loud sob finds its way out of your throat and escapes your lips. he removes his finger and rubs a few circles on your clit, living for the feeling of you clenching around him before he moves his finger up the inside of your thigh, covering it in your slick. he wraps his arms around you again, pressing you against his chest as you continue to sniffle and let out small cries. he simply runs his hand through your hair and moves a hand to grope your boobs under your tracksuit. feeling that you’re so tense, he runs his hands up your sides and your waist, as if that was going to make you relax at all.
“i told you earlier that being here was better because all you had to do was run the risk of not pleasing me.”
he suddenly grips his fingers as tight as possible into your hips.
“so i’d suggest you start moving instead of trying to be so still unless you want me to pull the trigger next time i pick the gun back up.”
#squid game x reader#inho x reader#youngil x reader#player 001 x reader#tw noncon#tw dark content#tw dark fic#squid game oneshot#squid game drabble#dark squid game#yandere squid game x reader#yandere squid game#yandere inho x reader#yandere youngil x reader#yandere inho#yandere youngil
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heart | bucky barnes
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bucky barnes x reader — ★ — wc 1k
summary: bucky asks you why you love him
tw: hurt/comfort, tears, angst to fluff, bucky is so precious and needs to be protected at all costs 🥹
The rain poured violently outside, hitting the ground in torrents. But the doors muffled it to barely audible thumps. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The repetitive sound ran through your mind like some kind of mantra, too tired to think of much else. Paired with the feeling of Bucky’s hair on your fingertips, it was almost meditative.
You sat curled up on the couch with his head in your lap. You had wanted to get started on your next read, The Hobbit — but Bucky insisted on annotating it before you did, claiming it would help you understand it better. So you let yourself relax while he did.
You’re broken out of your reverie by the soft sound of your name, and look down to see Bucky gazing up at you.
“Yeah?”
“Can we… talk for a bit?”
You think he looks a little nervous, though you’re not sure why. It makes you nervous. “Sure, what’s up?”
He marks the book before closing it, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His tongue juts into the side of his mouth, eyebrows bunching up as he turns to face you.
Bucky doesn’t say anything for a bit. He just stares down at the couch. It’s like you can hear him playing with different responses on the tip of his tongue, frown widening by the second.
You’re restless, almost dying to ask him what had happened. But you hold back for his sake.
Finally, he sighs and meets your gaze for a split second before diverting it again. “Why do you…” He clears his throat. “Why do you do this?”
You blink. “Do what?”
“Why do you —“ he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. He looks perplexed. “You know, be with me and stuff. Why do you love me?”
There’s a sensation in your heart, a tad bit worse than sinking. It’s like drowning.
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
You stay quiet, taking a moment to collect your thoughts. Bucky seems to take it as his sign to continue.
“I’ve done so many awful things, doll, and you know it. I — I’ve hurt people, fuck, I even murdered them. I’m a murderer. And I —“
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“You always say that.” It felt like someone was stabbing you in the heart, right through the little atrium where your heart begins to beat. “You always say it. But it’s not true, it’s not. It’s my fucking fault. I killed those people.”
“Bucky,” you know you sound worried, and that it might freak him out. But you can’t bring yourself to care right now, seeing his head hung between his hands like that. Though it was months ago, he looks as tortured as he did on the day you first met. On the day he had just been saved from Hydra — and it scared you.
He doesn’t respond.
“Buck,” you try again, softer, hesitantly reaching out to rub his arm. He lets you. “I mean it, you know? I mean it when I say it’s not your fault. You were brainwashed. You wouldn’t have done… any of it, if it were up to you.”
“But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? It wasn’t up to me. Brainwashed or not, I still did it.”
There’s nothing but biting anguish in his voice; self deprecation at the tip of it.
“You didn’t choose to.”
He takes a shuddering inhale, and that’s when you know he’s holding back tears. It wasn’t visible to you. But it’s audible now. “Hey. Hey, babe.”
You scoot closer towards him, hand on his arm drifting round to his back.
You give the nape of his neck a gentle squeeze, and it seems to be all the reassurance he needs to let go. A strangled sob escapes him.
“Okay. It’s okay, Buck. You can let go, yeah? Just let go,” you say, trying to ignore the dull ache in your heart as you wrap your arm around him.
Bucky starts to cry, softly at first. Then he starts to shake, pent up sobs coming out like a storm after rain. It’s heartbreaking. He instinctively curls into you, and you hold him.
“You didn’t choose to do it. Any of it,” you murmur again. He pushes his face into your chest, tears and snot and self-hatred and all. You take it as a sign that you’re getting through to him. “You were forced, my love. You didn’t want to do those things —“ you rub his back, hoping it conveys all the love that you need it to, “— so it’s not your fault. It never has been, and it never will be.”
Perhaps you sound a little choked up. Maybe Bucky notices, and that’s why he wraps his arms around you. Or maybe it’s because he loves you, and love is sometimes worth fighting your demons for.
You don’t say anything for a while more; you know he doesn’t need you to. What he needs is for you to hold him in your arms, let him feel safe as he cries. You do exactly that. You’ll do anything for him.
“I love you,” you murmur again after a bit, when his tears have slowed and sniffles are softer. You realised you never really answered his question in the first place.
“I love you because you’re you, Bucky,” you start. “You’re soft, and sweet, and —“ you’re tearing up now, but you can’t help it. You hug him tighter. “— and you make my coffee just the way I like it. You kiss me and it makes me feel like the most precious thing in the world. You hold me when I cry, and buy me flowers like I’m worth it.”
“You are worth it,” he croaks quietly, voice muffled in your chest.
“I know I am. I know, because you showed me,” you warble, burying your face in his hair. “And I need you to believe the same. You are worth it. You can hate yourself every second of every day, and I will still love you. I’ll always love you.”
Bucky tilts his head upwards slightly to press a wet kiss to your collarbone. His lips graze the skin above your heart. “You really believe what you’re saying, huh?”
“I do,” you whisper, no hesitation. “I love you.”
You feel his hand in your hair, another soft kiss to your heart. “I love you.”
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x you#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bucky x y/n#bucky x female yn#bucky x female reader#bucky fic#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes fandom#the winter solider x reader#the winter soldier x you#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#winter soldier x y/n#the winter soldier fanfiction#the winter soldier#winter soldier
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RAHH YOUR BACKKK
perchance, could you do arcane women reacting to reader in the aftermath of a really toxic relationship like how they would comfort them and stuff?
Arcane women comforting you after a toxic relationship. | Sevika, Vi, Jinx x Gn!Reader
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You can't just say perchance!/J
But on a serious note, thanks for the interesting request, I had alot of fun writing this!<3
Content: Angst, past toxic relationships, fluff, can be read as either platonic or romantic? Idk, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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》SEVIKA
She hated your ex and never bothered to hide it either. Her passive-aggressive remarks and cold glares got the point across every time, but she never tried to talk you out of your relationship. It wasn't entirely her business anyway, and you'd learn eventually on your own. Trying to intervene would only make things worse unless they were hurting you, to which she'd bury them alive for it.
Either way, it came to no surprise to her when you appeared at her door late into a random night, crying and sobbing incoherently at what had happened. You finally found the strength to break it off with your ex, but that didn't stop the heartbreak from lingering in your heart so horribly. Yes, they were terrible to you, and it was for the best you left, but the self-doubt and conflicting emotions in you were driving you to the point of insanity.
Thankfully, Sevika was quick to get you into her humble home wordlessly, slightly unsure of how to comfort you. But she didn't play her long awaited "I told you so" card. Instead, she got you some tissues, a nice cold drink of your choice, and your favorite food before simply sitting down next to you in silence. She figured that listening to your rant would be better than to say anything, and so she did just that, for how long you needed it.
Deep down, she was brewing with anger, though, yet kept it calm for you. She wanted you to feel comfortable here and even goes as far as to let you cuddle up to her at the end of your vent session. In her mind, many different ways of dealing with your ex's existence came to mind, yet they stilled at the softest "thank you" given by you.
Her heart skipped an embarrassed beat as she waved your gratefulness off with a stubborn shake of her head, claiming it was nothing to worry about.
Your ex, on the other hand, definitely had something to worry about, though, once she gets her hands on them.
》VI
Vi has been itching to fight your ex from day one, yet refrained at your pleas to not hurt them. She always told you that you deserved better. That you deserved someone who actually loved and cared about you, but you couldn't see her way no matter how many times you two talk about it. It's like you couldn't see past the love you had for your ex until the glasses finally did break.
The pink haired woman intervened during a heavy argument between you and your ex, which eventually led you to finally just break it off with them for good. You were so sick of their fighting and finally understood what Vi was seeing from the start... but that didn't stop the guilt and heartbreak from seeping into your heart by the time you made it back to her place.
You felt ashamed for not seeing it sooner, but Vi was quick to wrap you up in warm blankets and reassure you that there was nothing to be embarrassed about. Things like that can happen to anyone, after all. And you learned something from it, so that's a good thing!
She will try and give you a bit of a peptalk that then veers into her, wondering if she should beat your ex up for good measure. Words won't get through to them, but these fists certainly will! Or so she thinks. Thankfully, you eventually fall asleep in her embrace before you can notice her once again reckless scheming.
Vi may let them get away with it for now, but if she ever sees them around, it will be on sight... well, as long as you're not there too. She wants you to feel safe with her and hope's that you do, as she, too, finally falls asleep.
》JINX
I hope your ex is good at dodging bullets because Jinx will shoot them on sight. She has already contemplated this from the start and never thought anything good of them either in all the time you dated them. She'd prank and annoy the hell out of them in the hope of driving them away, especially after you warned her not to hurt them.
But that didn't mean anything to her anymore, after you two finally broke up. Her efforts weren't for nothing after all, and she would've rejoiced at the news if it weren't for your heartbroken expression that greeted her the moment you stepped into her hideout.
Pushing her chaotic and murderous thoughts aside for the moment, she was quick to cuddle you up in her strong arms and let you rant all about your troubles to her. She'll feed you your favorite food and drink whilst you speak, yet doesn't say much herself. She's a good listener when she wants to be and luckily knows when to be serious. At most, she'll join in at the shit talking phase, glad to finally be free to gossip about them in peace with you at last.
Eventually, she'll try and distract you with some new inventions or stories of hers until you fall asleep, at which she takes that as her green light to go on a little hunt. After covering you in all of the blankets she can find and making sure that your resting place is extra comfortable, she casually loads her gun and exits the hide out with a wide grin.
Finally, some revenge for all the tears you've shed.
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#arcane#arcane women#arcane x genderneutral reader#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane sevika#arcane sevika x reader#sevika#sevika x reader#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi#vi x reader#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane headcanon
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🍰 Stalker eren! And his pretty best friend 🍰
Dark content!- stalking, very perverted Ren, reader being recorded without knowing
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Eren loved you truly more than you could ever imagine. He always had feelings for you. How could he not? You were the cutest ditzy person he had ever met. But that was the kind of thing he needed to keep him grounded. Someone so bubbly that brought joy to his very angry life.
He hadn't meant to start being obsessed with you honestly! He didn't even know how it happened, he just found himself constantly staring at you whenever you two hung out. And staring turned to touching. Touching turned to constantly watching all of your social media. That was the least concerning thing though.
Unbeknownst to you your "best friend" just so happened to love breaking into your room. He always tried to leave things the way they were, just wanting to be there because it smelled so much of you but he couldn't help himself! His hands always found their way to your drawer or dirty clothes. Taking the first pair of underwear he could find. He would bring them to his face as he took in the smell. He was practically rock hard just off of that alone. His long hair fell over his face as he peeled his sweatpants down as well as his boxers freeing his heavy dick. A hiss left his lips as he wrapped the underwear around his tip, collecting all the precum that already started to leak.
The only thing that filled the room was the sound of his grunts and the whispers of your name. Your underwear practically soaked with how much his dick was leaking. His mind painted a picture of you, pretending it was your pretty hand wrapped around his dick instead of his own. A pathetic almost whimper fell from him at the thought. His hips bucked into his hand harshly, eyes rolling back as he finally came. It wasn't the first time he done this, definitely wouldn't be the last either.
You had noticed some of your stuff missing and confined in him that you were a little scared. And what did Ren do? Well get you a gift of course! He wanted his best friend to always be happy. The cutest white bunny plushie was what he got you. Ren couldn't help himself though. He hadn't told you but the plushie had his favorite way to stalk you yet. A little camera inside. Whenever he came over he placed it right so it'd face your bed. Catching every single moment you spent on there. When you'd sleep, when you'd wake up, and more importantly whenever you'd fuck yourself dumb.
Eren was just getting home from doing yet another tattoo when he decided to check the cameras and to his surprise he had perfect timing. He watched as you pushed back on to the pink dildo you had "jokingly" bought when you two hung out last time and went into Spencer's. Tears falling down your cheeks as you felt an ache of need. It wasn't the same as if someone else was fucking you. No one's hands touching you or whispering dirty words in your ear, giving you praises for how you were riding the you. Eren could think of many at that moment. He was mesmerized by what he was seeing.
The way your hands ran up your body as if you were trying to mimic what you wanted someone to do to you. Groping your chest, slapping your ass, wrapping your hand around your throat, he wanted to do all of the shit you were doing to yourself. Watching your ass bounce, seeing you grip on to your sheets for support, the way you threw your head back whenever you felt the toy graze that one spot that no man ever seemed to hit. Maybe eren would have to change some shit around next time he slept over...
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@merakidoll for you girly!
This was way different than what I planned. Should this be a series?
Part 2!
#spotify#fanfic#x character#x reader#x black reader#x black plus size reader#eren smut#eren jaeger smut#eren x reader#aot eren#aot fanfiction#aot x chubby reader#aot x reader#aot x black reader#eren x black reader#x black male reader#x male reader#x bottom male reader#smut
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every sort of day
ghoap x gn!reader fluff
when you woke that morning, the bed was empty and the flat quiet. you felt the sheets but they were cold and you huffed feeling a little frustrated that you’d woken up late even if you knew you’d needed the sleep.
pouting regardless, you got up and headed into the kitchen, shuffling along the wood floors in your thick, warm socks. your eyes went to the fridge first like every morning and you grinned when you saw the letter magnets rearranged into a message, i luv u. looking slightly lower you barked out a surprised laugh at the continued message using numbers for any missing original magnets, 4nd ur ar5e.
you shook your head and finally opened your coffee maker, feeling your chest warm when you saw a pod already inside and your mug set just to the side of it. your favourite brand of almond milk had been replenished in the fridge without you realising and you savoured the hot drink once it was made with a satisfied hum.
you’d missed johnny and simon before they’d left to work on base that morning, but they’d made sure to leave their mark behind for you to find.
you settled on the sofa in your boyfriends’ t-shirt and boxers, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. you sent a text to the pair of them, a simple love heart to let them know you’d woken up, and then turned on the tv. you’d been sick the past few days though you could tell you were on the up now, your head not feeling so fuzzy and your throat not scratching as bad. your boyfriends must have agreed given they’d set up the stuff for a coffee; simon was a staunch believer of tea only when ill and he made you stick to it too when he was around.
halfway through your trash tv show you napped for an hour or two, only waking when your stomach grumbled and complained at being empty for too long. wrapped up tight in your blanket, you yawned and headed to the kitchen to grab the soup johnny had made. you spotted it on the top shelf in the fridge and heated it up in the microwave under the brief instructions taped to the side of the tupperware. you were thankful it didn’t need too long, eager to get back to the sofa and the latest season of love island. while you waited for it to heat up you made yourself a tea and sent a photo to simon, smiling when he sent back a simple, good lass 🖤.
you sighed at the smell when the microwave dinged. spicy veg, your favourite and easy to keep down with the gippy tummy you’d had the last few days.
once you sat back down with both items, you hunched over like a shrimp to keep from spilling it, your blanket hung over your shoulders like a shroud.
you messaged simon worriedly when you’d heard nothing from johnny by mid afternoon. you knew they were meant to be in training, finishing off any vague handwavey paperwork they did and catching up with their captain after the last week off on break with you. but still. you worried.
johnny was chatty, even when he was in a meeting or on a helo, he always managed to send you a little something to keep your nerves settled.
your phone pinged and you opened the video simon sent quick sharp.
it showed johnny running laps on his own on a big field, a group of younger recruits cheering him on from the side, slightly out of frame and sat on the grass next to the track. your boyfriend’s face was beet red and his wheezing breaths could be heard even several feet away.
“talked a big game about my training program for the new recruits, said i was losing my touch,” simon’s voice came out of your speakers. he was clearly amused even if you couldn’t see him. he raised his voice for johnny. “‘ow you feeling now, sergeant?"
“cannae feel ma legs, lt.” johnny slowed down on his lap until he was just walking, coming to a stop opposite simon, though still a ways away on the track. “pain in ma lungs is—“ he hacked a rough cough before leaning over his knees.
“still think i’ve gone soft?” simon asked as the video zoomed in comically and unflattering on johnny panting and suffering.
“ah think yer a petty bastard,” johnny grumbled, keeping his voice loud enough to be heard by his lt. cheeky. “ah think ah might’ve pulled somethin’ permanently.” he stood back up and tried to stretch his back with a wince.
“cheer up,” simon said unsympathetically. “and say ‘ello to sunny, they were worried f’ya,” simon said softer.
johnny perked up at the mention of your nickname and you grinned at his wobbly smile on the screen, his chest still rising and falling with his quick, deep breaths. “missin’ ya, sunshine.”
the video flicked around and you were being shown simon’s work mask and his deep dark eyes hidden in the shadows of it. “be ‘ome soon,” he promised.
the video cut off as you heard simon yell at johnny to keep running and you relaxed back with a laugh; johnny would be thoroughly knackered by time he got in so you were guaranteed a puppy pile the second he stepped through the door. you turned back to the tv and settled in for another possible nap, eager for the day to go by so you could see your partners once more.
——
you blearily rubbed at your eyes as you heard the door open and peeked over the side of the sofa to see your boys shuffling in. slowly and clumsily, you made your way over with the blanket still tangled around you.
you let one arm escape the warm cocoon to help simon with his coat, tugging at the sleeve as he shrugged it off. you weren’t much help but he liked that you tried even when you weren’t feeling 100%.
johnny leant in to kiss your forehead and you sniffled with a smile as you looked up at him. simon’s hand was warm where it gently squeezed the back of your neck before trailing down to the small of your back over the blanket.
“kept warm?” he asked before heading to the kitchen and leaving you to be wrapped up in johnny’s arms. once he had a good hold around you he led you behind simon faithfully. your small steps tied in the burrito blanket hindered his longer strides so he swayed side to side on each foot to slow down and stop you from tripping in his eagerness.
“yeah, i’ve been wrapped up all day, hardly moved,” you said.
“lucky for some,” johnny groaned into your neck. “si ran me bloody ragged.”
you laughed and reached and hand up to pet sympathetically at his hair. your laugh soon turned to a racking cough and you ducked your head into your elbow and away from johnny.
he rocked you gently on the spot as he leant against the kitchen top opposite where simon was lining up three cups of tea.
once the kettle popped, johnny led you forward and squished you between his front and simon’s back as the larger man poured the boiling water into the cups.
you let your free arm curl around simon’s stomach, pawing gently like a cat at his bulk beneath the thick hoody until his own hand raised to hold it. he ran his thumb over your knuckles before lifting your hand to kiss the back of it, lingering.
“and did ya eat today?” he asked.
you nodded and hummed the assentive.
“our lovely bonnie, knows how t’ take care ah’themselves when we can’t,” johnny hummed, pleased and proud, into your hair.
“missed you both today,” you admitted.
you felt johnny grin against your skin and simon squeezed your hand tighter.
“ye’d a’been asleep all day, sunny,” he joked.
you pouted. it was true but that wasn’t the reaction you wanted.
johnny tugged you back a few steps and simon let your hand slip from his; the scot guided you out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom, and when you checked over both of your shoulders for simon he chuckled fondly.
simon had all three mugs in his hands and was close behind as johnny gently shoved you back onto the bed, your knees sinking into the plush duvet and mattress as you climbed to the centre.
you got yourself snuggled against the pillows with johnny to your right and then helped simon with the mugs on your left before he too collapsed against your side, shoulder to hip.
“put some honey in yours,” simon murmured softly as you blew on the hot tea. you smiled gratefully and leant in to kiss his cheek. “think we should order in, can’t be arsed t’cook.”
“aye, that’s fine w’me,” johnny agreed as he turned on the tv opposite your bed. he flickered through your watchlist before landing on young frankenstein and pressing play.
you pulled the blanket up high and held on to johnny’s hand, keeping your tea up high to inhale the steam while simon petted at your thigh under the covers. you didn’t know when you’d nodded off, but simon must have taken your mug before it could spill and johnny must have laid you lower on the bed to get you comfy. you woke to the sound of football playing on the tv and you groaned and curled further into simon’s side. he’d always managed to stay still better than johnny could, even if he was just as invested in the game. you felt johnny’s hand rub up and down your side, before gripping the fat of your hip in excitement and patting it softly but rapidly when a goal was scored.
“easy, johnny,” simon reminded him and johnny leant over to kiss your brow with a wet smooch.
“sorry, sunny,” he whispered. “go back to sleep. i’ll be quiet.”
you snorted softly, knowing he’d do his best but would be unable to keep the promise. you managed to fall asleep again regardless with a small smile, cuddled close between the two of them; simon’s arm around you both and his aftershave gently breaking through your stuffed nose.
being ill would be so much worse if you didn’t have these two lugs keeping you comfortable and cared for.
#hope you like it anon!!#just a small one bc i’m trying not to wear myself out before i finish my butch series#got the ghost smut planned out but not written yet#simon ghost riley x reader#ghoap x reader#simon riley x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader x simon riley#ghost x reader x soap#ghost x reader#soap x reader
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White Fireproof - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)
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pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: unprotected sexual activities
Wrap it before you tap it.
wordcount: +2k
a/n: White fireproof tribute (the 2019 one, the one that actually had aura)
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT
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I’m not one to get distracted easily.
Really, I’m not.
But there’s something about the way Lewis moves when he’s in his element that just…scrambles my brain.
And right then, standing in front of me, adjusting the collar of this brand-new, snow-white fireproofs like he’s trying on his newest Dior collection instead of his race driver uniform.
“Do you think this watch pops enough against the white?” he asks, flicking his wrist in my direction.
I hum in response, my eyes glued to the line of his shoulders, the fit of the material across his chest, and the way it clings to his hips like it’s got a personal vendetta against me.
I mean I’ve seen him in fireproofs a hundred times, but this shade of white? This specific white? Sinful.
Lewis keeps talking, oblivious to my descent into thirsty nostalgia. “I think it’ll works for the shots. Clean, sleek. What do you think, babe?”
“Mmhm,” I mutter, my mind decidedly not in the present.
Here’s the thing: Lewis like this, all crisp and sharp, unlocked a memory I had neatly tucked away.
Abu Dhabi, 2019. Last race of the season.
Last time he wore a fireproof this white at a race. And the first of many times we did something reckless—but oh-so worth it.
Lewis, bless his heart, keeps chatting. Rambling on about how the watch’s black dial contrasts with the white fabric, and I’m sitting here pretending to listen while my brain serves up a reel of that night.
“And then they said we might try another angle where the light hits the watch just right—”
Oh, I’ll tell you about angles, sir.
Like the one I had to work at to get around the time frame on that fireproof while making good on a promise that was half a joke, half a long-standing fantasy.
He finally looks at me, his brows pulling together slightly. “You good? You’re quiet.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I wave a hand, crossing my legs to try and focus. “Just thinking about…stuff.”
Smooth, Y/n. Really smooth.
I didn’t think I’d actually do it.
A tipsy promise made over tequila shots months ago doesn’t usually hold much weight. But then again, I’m not dating just anyone.
I’m dating Lewis Hamilton, one of the most competitive guys I’ve met, fresh off winning the last race of the season and securing a Grand Chelem after achieving his 6th championship two races back.
And who am I to back out now, when he’s standing in front of me, soaked in champagne, grinning like he’s on top of the world?
He barely gets two steps into the driver’s room before I’m on him. I press him against the door, his laugh vibrating against my lips as I kiss him like we’ve got all the time in the world, even though we don’t.
“Someone’s happy” he teases between kisses, his hands settling on my hips.
“You’ve got no idea,” I murmur, nipping at his bottom lip before pulling back slightly. His gaze, dark and shining, flicking between my eyes and my lips.
I let my fingers toy with the zipper of his race suit, tugging it down just enough to reveal the long sleeve underneath. “Remember the bet?” I ask, my voice low, playful.
He blinks, clearly taking a second to process, and then his brows shoot up. “You’re serious?”
“Very serious.” I grin, dragging the zipper down the rest of the way. “We got fifteen minutes, champ.”
He swallows hard, the heat in his eyes unmistakable now. “Yes ma’am” he mutters, no resisting as I guide him toward the small sofa tucked in the corner of the room, giving him a gentle push.
He obeys, leaning back slightly, his legs spread just enough to make my mouth water.
I settle between his knees, my hands gliding over the champagne-soaked fireproofs. The fabric clings to his skin, warm and damp beneath my fingers, exuding that sharp, fizzy scent of victory—sweet and metallic, a heady mix of adrenaline and success.
His gaze doesn’t waver, intense and unblinking, like he’s trying to commit every second of this to memory.
I can hear the quickening rhythm of his breath, and the barely-there hitch that makes me shiver. His chest rises and falls beneath my hands, steady but heavy, the pulse in his neck beating fast enough for me to notice, almost in sync with my own racing heartbeat.
“You with me?” I ask, smirking as I press a kiss to his hand that is hovering mine. His silence is answer enough.
His breath hitches audibly as my fingers hook into the waistband of his fireproofs, the sound low and raspy like it’s caught in his throat.
The soft rustle of fabric against his skin fills the air as I tug them down, revealing smooth, sweat-slicked skin that glistens faintly under the dim lights. The faintest trace of cologne—woody, clean—lingers where his body heat mingles with the champagne.
It’s intoxicating, almost dizzying, and I can’t help but lean in, my nose brushing just above his waistband to drink it in.
The bulge in his briefs is impossible to ignore, and I let my fingers trail over it lightly, earning a soft groan from him.
“You know” I say, leaning in close, my lips brushing against the fabric “if you walk into that debrief with this situation still going on, it might be a little awkward.”
He chuckles, though it’s strained. “Help me then.”
“Maybe I should” I reply, pulling his briefs down just enough to free him.
He’s already hard, the tip glistening with precum.
I start slow, my tongue flicking out to taste him, and the salty but fruity tang spurring me. I drag my tongue along the length of him, spreading the slickness as I go.
His breath is uneven, and I can feel his restraint slipping.
When I finally take him into my mouth, I go as far as my throat allows, the coolness of my lips contrasting with his heat. I pull back with a soft pop, flicking my eyes up to meet his.
His gaze is locked on me, intense and unwavering.
I wrap both hands around his length, stroking him slowly, deliberately, while maintaining eye contact. His lips part slightly, and when I hear the first low moan escape, I can’t help but grin.
“Enjoying yourself?” I tease, my voice raspy.
His only response is a shaky exhale, and I take that as my cue to dive back in, my mouth working with my hands. His hips twitch slightly, his self-control barely there anymore.
The sounds he makes—soft groans, sharp inhales, and the occasional whispered curse—are like music.
His thighs tense under my palms, firm and unyielding, as if bracing for what’s next. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the heady mix of sweat and lingering champagne heightening every inhale I take.
His body is alive beneath me, each twitch, each gasp, syncing with my rhythm of hands and mouth.
When I glance up again, his head is tipped back, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s completely lost in the moment, lost in me.
I pull back, letting him slip from my mouth as I sit back on my heels and his eyes snap open, dark and desperate, as if I’ve just yanked him back to earth.
“Problem?” I ask innocently, tilting my head, pretending like I’m done.
His jaw clenches. “Babe” he murmurs, his voice a low growl, his eyes narrowing in that way that makes my stomach flip.
I raise a brow, waiting. He knows what I want. He exhales heavily, his hand reaching out to rest on the back of my head.
With the gentlest pressure, he guides me back down. “Don’t stop,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over my jaw.
I smirk before taking him in again, my lips wrapping around him, picking up right where I left off.
His hands stay on me, not pushing, just there, grounding himself. I can feel his thighs tense beneath my palms, his body teetering on the edge.
And then—footsteps. A knock on the door.
“Oi, hurry up, you two!” Angela’s voice cuts through from the other side. “Five minutes left”
Lewis freezes, his entire body going rigid. His eyes shoot to the door and I freeze right with him, unmoved, my tongue teasing him lightly just to test his resolve.
Angela’s steps fade down the hall, and I finally lift my head just enough to whisper, “She’s gone.”
His shoulders sag, and he lets out a breathy laugh. “You’re gonna kill me” he mutters.
“Not before I finish what I started.”
Without missing a beat, I shift my focus, letting my hand drift lower to gently cup his balls. I massage them with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch, all while my mouth works him steadily.
His hips twitch, and I know I’ve got him.
“Shit,” he breathes, his head falling back.
It doesn’t take long before his hands move again, this time pulling gently at my head, trying to stop me. “Babe,” he rasps, his voice strained. “I’m gonna—”
I hum in response, doubling down, taking him deeper. His grip tightens, his hips jerking slightly as he tries to warn me again, but I’m not stopping.
Not this time.
His body tenses, and then I feel it—hot and thick, spilling down my throat.
I swallow every drop, my eyes locked on his, watching as his features twist in pure bliss. His mouth falls open, and the quietest, most wrecked groan escapes him as he collapses back against the sofa. Spent.
I give him a few more gentle strokes, making sure I’ve got everything, before finally pulling back, letting my lips trail one last time over the sensitive tip.
His hands fall to his sides, useless, as he tries to catch his breath.
I rise slowly, crawling up his body until I’m face to face with him. His eyes are half-lidded, heavy with satisfaction, but they don’t leave mine.
I press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips, like I hadn’t just sucked him dry moments before.
“Thanks for the trophy,” I whisper against his mouth, grinning.
I’m still half-lost in my own mind when Lewis’s voice breaks through the haze. “Love, you good?”
I blink, snapping back to the present. He’s standing in front of me, white fireproofs hugging every muscle, his brow slightly raised, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, waving a hand dismissively, even as my cheeks burn. He doesn’t need to know how far down memory lane I just went. “Just... admiring the view.”
His smirk deepens. “Uh-huh.” He steps closer, leaning in slightly. “You’ve been staring at me like that since I put this on. Something on your mind?”
Oh, you sweet, oblivious man.
I clear my throat, standing up from the couch and brushing past him to inspect his fireproofs more closely. “All I’ll say it’s,” I start, my fingers tracing the fabric near his shoulder, “It’s not as good as the 2019 one.”
He scoffs, crossing his arms. “I thought you liked the all-white look.”
“I did,” I admit, turning to face him fully, my hands on my hips. “But these little dot patterns?” I point at the subtle textured details near his ribs. “They’re throwing me off”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Of course.”
“Hey,” I retort, poking him lightly in the chest, “I’m only pointing out the obvious. The 2019 ones were iconic. These? Meh.” I scrunch my nose for dramatic effect.
“Meh?” he repeats, incredulous. “Okay, little miss fashionista”
I grin. “And yet, here you are, still putting up with me.”
He leans in closer, his voice dropping to that soft, teasing tone that always gets me. “You’ve got strong opinions for someone who couldn’t keep her hands off me in the old ones.”
Touché.
“Fair point” I concede, stepping back just enough to keep things playful. “But let’s not forget who really benefited from that moment in history.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts the sleeves of his fireproofs. “You know,” he murmurs, his eyes meeting mine, “I don’t remember much from that race. But those ten minutes? Burned into my memory forever.”
I bite my lip, warmth blooming in my chest. “Good” I reply, my voice softening. “I like knowing I leave an impression.”
He reaches for my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. “You always do.”
The knock on the door snaps us both out of the moment. “Lewis, waiting for you!”
Lewis sighs, giving my hand a quick squeeze before letting go. “ I’ll be right back”
As he heads for the door, I can’t resist one last parting shot. “Tell the photographers to focus on your face” I call out. “It’s the real moneymaker.”
With one final smirk, he disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with my thoughts—and the satisfaction of knowing I’ll never look at white fireproofs the same way again.
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#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton smut#lewis hamilton#lh#lh44#lewis#lewis x reader#lewis imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton imagine#lh44 x reader#lh44 imagine#lewis hamilton x you
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Friendly Neighbourhood
Jason Todd x Reader
wc: 3.5 K summary: Befriending his neighbour gets out of hand. warnings: fluff, no y/n used, injuries from Gotham activities a/n: got this idea while doing my groceries. also decided to change up my theme a bit! enjoy! divider: @kodaswrld
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You barely manage to lift out the two heavy grocery bags out of the back of your car, setting them down at your feet. With a heavy sigh, you fish out your keys and struggle to pick the bags up again, cursing under your breath.
»Need help with that?« You jump up at the deep voice behind you, looking to your right before you spot a similar man, close to your age.
»Uh...«
Jason can see the way your wheels are turning in your head, trying to figure out who he is while also thinking over his suggestion. Finally, he decides to help you out. »Jason… Todd. I live next door to you, if you noticed.«
He shrugs and fidgets with his hands inside his jacket pockets, already regretting it. But luckily, you simply light up and nod, glancing down at your bags again.
»Oh, right! No, I know, just needed a moment. Also, I‘d greatly appreciate your help.« Finally a normal person. No, finally a person that isn‘t actively trying to make your life worse. Without another word, the taller man picks the bags up and gets going to the front door of the apartment complex. You unlock the door and let him walk in first, taking notice of his broad back, still mesmerised, even when he‘s wearing a dark leather jacket. At the front of your door, you catch your breath after walking up four stories worth of stairs, needing a moment to compose yourself fully. Jason, however, doesn‘t seem to too exhausted and simply waits for you to open the door.
»Should I put them inside or just leave it here?« He feels rather awkward in this situation but refuses to show it or let himself cringe at his words, wanting to come off as friendly and nice.
»You can put it here, it‘s fine. Thanks, again.« Jason smiles lightly in return and steps back to his apartment door the opposite of yours, stepping in after unlocking it.
Inside, you stash away your groceries and take a small break, eventually slapping yourself for being so awkward with him. How did you not recognise him earlier, by your car? He is your neighbour! As a form of an apology, you settle into your kitchen and start making some baked goods, focusing on making the best cookies and bread you can muster.
After some hours, perfecting your cookies with sprinkles, and carefully wrapping the fresh loaf of bread into a pretty paper, his gift is ready. You put the sweet cookies into a tupperware, wrapping a light lace around it with a bow. Finally satisfied, you take your last wits and step out into the hallway, ringing his doorbell. To say that you‘re nervous puts it pretty well, your palms sweating lightly as you hold the baked good in yours arms. Jason answers his door, not having expected to see you again so soon again. Immediately, he straightens his posture and clears his throat, hoping he doesn‘t look like a mess right now.
»Hey, I just wanted to drop by some sweets after you helped me earlier… thanks again.«
You smile sweetly at him and hold out the loaf of bread with the box of cookies, overwhelming him. Although he doesn‘t see, surprised or shocked, he feels like his legs might give out under him.
»Oh— thanks. You didn‘t need to do all that, though.«
Jason takes the small box and craddles the lkoaf of bread into his arms, noticing how warm it is. You simply smile back, standing there for a moment longer before you awkardly say goodbye. From that moment on, Jason made sure to see you more often during the week and hopefully help you more with mundane stuff like getting your groceries into your apartment.
◐
In general, you didn‘t see Jason often. There were a few occasions you can remember seeing him, and it was extremly underwhelming. Once, you entered the basement with the on laundry day at the same time as him and he left immediately after you entered. You didn‘t think much of it, glad about the fact that you didn‘t have to worry about someone seeing your underwear. Another time was when you parked your car near the building and saw him getting off his bike before walking into the apartment complex before you. Thinking of it, that was approximately a week ago, if not less. Wait, he rides a bike? Maybe you should definitely try to see him more during the day, maybe he isn‘t that bad of a neighbour.
Even though you normally went into the laundry room in the mornnig to avoid people, you just couldn‘t bring it over yourself to get up a few minutes earlier than normally for that. But considering that it‘s rather late in the night, there‘s probably no one in there. Picking out the dirty clothes that need a wash, you walk downstairs into the shared basement and open the heavy door with your back, since your hands are busy with the heavy basket. Walking in, you didn‘t expect to see the same person you were thinking about earlier in the day. With an awkward smile, you pick a free mashine machine and mind your own business. Jason seems to be almost finished with his laundry, throwing in the last piece urgently. He nodded back at your smile, turning his broad back to you as he messes with the settings of the machine.
In the meantime, you throw in your clothes into the free machine, being composed, although you hope that he doesn‘t notice the light tremors in your hands. Why are you so nervous? It‘s not like you two talked more than three words together. Before you could overthink the situation, he leaves the room with a final glance over his shoulder until the room falls into yet another silence. The sounds of his washine machine going off is the only thing that keeps your mind in this reality. Finishing up your task, you can‘t help but be curious. With careful steps, you peer a little into the machine that washes his clothes, only noticing some flashes of red in between the black clothes. Without trying to be creepy, you casually make your way back into your apartment, forgetting about the previous interaction.
◐
Another week, another grocery haul. Exiting out of your car, you manage to put the two heavy bags onto the concrete before you fish out for your keys. This will probably take two trips, silently wishing that you magically grew a pair of biceps like your friendly neighbour has. Sadly, it doesn‘t happen, even after staring at the two grocery bags. With a final sigh, you pick up one of them and don‘t notice the man beside you until you lift your head up. From the surprise, you jump up and let go of your bag, a small gasp leaving you.
»Oh— so sorry, didn‘t mean it! You need help with that?« The black haired man seems just as surprised as you, seemingly guilty for scaring you.
But once again, your brain needs a second to catch up on the situation. Luckily, you nod and smile, rather amused. Either amused at the scare or his guilty expression.
»I was actually waiting for you to appear, so yes. Thanks.«
With a faint smile, Jason picks both bags into his hands and lets you lead the way to your apartment, as if he didn‘t know better. On the way up, he does his best to cover up the light sweat as he carries those groceries for you.
»Jeez, what do you have in there? A ton of bricks for a house?« He blurts out, his voice lightly out of breath. You can‘t help but chuckle at his comment, although you start to feel bad for him. »Stuff someone needs to survive during a week.«
You shrug in response and unlocks your door, not as exhausted as him. He sets the bags down by the door of your apartment, before he slips back into his own home, giving you a smile and a polite goodbye. After sorting through your ingredients, you can‘t help but think about the interaction for the rest of the day, hoping this will happen more often… without the scare.
Unlike last week, you simply bring him an easy recipe for cookies that he gladly takes and studies for the rest of the evening.
◐
Would it be weird for a neighbour to bring over cookies randomly? It was out of your recipe anyways, so you must like it, right? Judging from the last two times, it should be socially accepted to gift your neighbour something to show gratefulness.
Finally, Jason knocks at your door and tries not to fidget with the plastic bag in his hands, filled with cookies that he couldn‘t finish up. Unfortunately for him, the he made too many sweets, but now he has a good excuse to see you. The door opens after a few moments, revealing you in a fuzzy robe, draping over your body like a comfy blanket. Jason almost chokes on his spit and looks down, feeling like he just disturbed your privacy. You on the other hand, chuckle softly before greeting him.
»Good evening. Sorry about my outfit, got comfy.« You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms, ignoring the embarassment. At the same time, Jason composes himself and holds out the bag of cookies and your tupperware from the earlier cookies.
»It‘s fine, I tried your recipe and made too much. Hope you like them.« You take the gift with a grateful smile and look back up at him. You nod, trying to say something to keep the short interaction going.
»Thanks. So, you also like baking? I was hoping I didn‘t make you confused with it.«
Jason shakes his head with a faint smile, fidgeting with his hands briefly, before stuffing them into his pockets. »No, I like baking. Used to make cupcakes when I was younger, it‘s the time that keeps getting lesser these days.«
You get the struggle of having not enough time for yourself. Now that you think of it, you realise that he probably sacrficised time for these cookies. You smile back at him, keeping the cookies in your hands.
◐
It was like any other night shift for you, returning back inside your apartment complex early in the morning, with an aching body. The keys jingle in your hands as you go up the last few stairs into your story. As another yawn escapes you, you don‘t notice the other person in the hallway at the door opposite of yours.
Jason pauses and glances to his side of the sound of footsteps, staying frozen on his spot for another moment. Finally, your eyes focus on him and you give him a brief nod. He nods back, albeit slightly confused.
»Nightshift?« Judging by your rather formal clothes that remind him of work uniform, that‘s the only conclusion he comes up with. You nod in response, standing by your door. His leather jacket is in his arm, seemingly hiding something underneath it, or maybe your brain just makes things look weird after staying up for so long.
»You too?« Jason nods after a brief pause, glancing back down at his hand with his house key.
»Yeah… gonna rest up now.«
After saying goodbye, you return to your flat and pass out on your bed in a matter of seconds.
Moments like these happened more often where you both came back home at the same time or did your laundry in each other‘s company. Your conversations consisted of some small talk, sharing recipes together, and Jason made sure to bring your groceries up every week. It was fun and refreshing to have a helpful and nice neighbour like that. Especially if he has a few extra muscles that seem totally unecessary on him. Either way, you admire his workout routine, whatever it is, that he does.
Another night shift, another exhausted mind and insane craving for your bed. What you didn‘t expect to see was a vigilante by your door. Well, opposite of your door.
You both pause, a light gasp of shock escaping you as you stand there, frozen. Red Hood doesn‘t move as well, staring back at you silently until he finally clears his throat.
»Uh… do you know where Jason Todd is?«
His voice is rough and more raspy due to the modulator of the helmet, making you tense further. You process his words and shake you head quickly, glancing at Jason‘s door briefly.
»What? I- no, I didn‘t see him lately at all. Don‘t know where he went last month.«
A silence follows in the corridor, hoping that he believes you. Unexpectetly, he nods and makes his way past you, although with some distance.
»Good night, miss.« He mumbles, although the voice changer makes it sounds rather sinister. It seems like he doesn‘t notice, leaving you be and walks down the stairs in a hurry. You release a heavy sigh and watch his back until you hurry inside your apartment and lock your door, just in case.
You manage to fall asleep after pacing in your room, overthinking the situation. Is Jason in danger? Should you check up on him now? Considering that it‘s past four in the morning, that‘s a bad idea. Exhaling, you take a shower and eventually fall asleep afterwards.
You don‘t see Jason the next day in the laundry room, making you even more concerned. Luckily, you catch him next week as you walk out of your place to leave for the store.
»Jason! I need to talk to you for a moment.« You urge him lightly, stepping closer to him in the hallway. He stops and stares down at you, already tense. He doesn‘t know what to expect, ready to pull you inside his apartment and blackmailing you, so you won‘t reveal his identity to someone else… or worse, the media. But to his surprise, you feel concerned and look concerned.
»Listen, I get it if it‘s uncomfortable for you, but are you in danger? Because...« you hesitate, trying not to scare him, »Because I saw Red Hood at your door a week ago and he— he asked for you. Obviously I lied and told him you were gone since last month, but… do you need help?«
He listens to your small rant, seeing the worry on your face as clear as day. After thinking and contemplating in his mind, he pretends to be two people.
»I… you know, no one can know about this, but… he‘s actually a nice guy, just seems intimidating. He checks up on me a few times a year, but trust me, he isn‘t bad.«
He explains calmly, hoping to reassure you. The elder lady that lives above you comes down the stairs, seemingly noisy about the whispering in the stairwell. Jason notices and gently guides you inside, hand on your shoulder. Finally, inside and without any prying eyes, he goes on.
»Did he scare you?« This time, he seems worried as his eyes meet yours again. You shake your head, then nod, wanting to be honest.
»A bit… his voice just scared me.« He nods in understanding and lets go of your shoulder, glancing around his flat briefly.
»Want tea? It‘s the least I can do.«
That‘s how you settle onto his couch and drink tea together, taking your mind off the worrying topic with more mundane things.
◐
After getting to know more about Jason and why he knows Red Hoood, you feel calmer but also slightly more alert. Whenever you walk back home, you make sure to watch the rooftops, wanting to catch a glimpse of Red Hood, in case he patrols or goes to visit Jason again. Sadly, you don‘t see him, and find yourself wishing that he would appear someday again. Preferably at Jason‘s door, so you can escape into your apartment in case of an emergency.
Luckily, you catch him as you come back home after another long nightshift. You narrow your eyes at him, stopping in front of him as you take him in. The red guy seemingly stares back at you, exhaling lightly.
»Not scared this time, miss?« He sees you shake your head before untensing. He hums lightly under his breath, leaning up against the wall by Jason‘s door.
»Nightshift? Jason told me about your hard work.« He tries his best to pretend being another person as he stays casually leaned against the wall, arms crossed. You seemingly perk up shortly as he mentions your neighbour, eventually composing yourself afterwards.
»Did he? Well...you better take good care of him, I need him to carry my groceries.« Little did you know that Jason feels way more confident under his helmet, taking a few steps closer.
»Yeah? Such a big girl and you still need help with such things?«
You watch as he steps closer to you, but you don‘t get easily swoon over with his confident cockiness.
»Well, some girls like getting help with that. You should know that yourself, aren‘t you a vigilante?«
Jason explained the duties of Red Hood to you on the same evening when you had tea together. Now you‘re using his words against him, in a way he didn‘t expect. Red Hood pauses and blinks, coming off as stunned with his blank helmet. Finally, he steps back, raising his hands up in the air.
»Don‘t need to get cheeky there. Just wanted to tease ya.« He tries to save it, but once again, it falls on deaf ears as you walk past him to your door.
»Just do your job.« Is the last thing you say before you walk into your place, leaving him specheless in the hallway. Seems like you actually buy his act of being two seperate people. With a final nod, he enters his own apartment and wonders how long he can keep the act going.
◐
You visit Jason the day after, sitting on his couch as you talk his ears off about anything.
»Yeah— and then he stepped closer and just straight up insulted me. He thinks I‘m weak!« You complain to him as he prepares two cups of tea in his kitchen, smiling to himself as you talk.
»I‘m sure he didn‘t mean it like that.« He shrugs as he carefully walks over and hands you the sweet tea you seem to love.
»Still… he‘s a bit weird.« You mumble against the rim of the mug, making Jason grin more amused to himself. He leans further back against the couch, warming his hands up against his own cup of tea. A comfortable silence stretches between you as you simply sit beside each other, occaisonally sipping on your hot tea.
You sit up straighter, focusing on the flash of bright red underneath a pile of clothes at the armchair. Without trying to assume much, you glance subtly at Jason before you speak up.
»Is that his helmet?« He perks up beside you and looks up to where your eyes are focused on. Instead of immediately agreeing and covering it up, he watches you and stays calm, trying to predict how you‘ll react.
»Huh… yeah.«
You quirk an eyebrow at his response, finally looking back at him beside you. Your eyes narrow and you lean back into the couch, trying to say something to find out more.
»And.. he just left? Without his mask?«
»Mhmm.« Jason hums back in agreement, although he doesn‘t seem too convinced of himself. In reality, he feels extremly bad for lying right into your face the entire time. So, he stopped trying. It feels like you won‘t react too dramatic anyway, he hacked your phone and find out that you didn‘t tell anyone about any of this in the first place. In short, he thinks you are trustworthy, after doing his usual researching. Besides, it‘s hard to get rid of you anyway, considering you live right next door to him.
»Right...« You sigh out, finally putting two and two together, but won‘t voice it yet, being too nervous. Until he finally speaks up, leaning up this time.
»You know, I‘m surprised you believed me for this long.«
The tension finally snapped, making you relax but also grow excited.
»I knew you were the same guy all along! You both speak the same way.« You exclaim with a relieved smile, making him tilt his head in light disagreement.
»If you only saw me talking to muggers...« Jason mutters before he takes a sip of his tea.
It feels refreshing to trust someone with his identity outside of the whole vigilante and work area. Especially with someone so pretty.
←MASTERLIST
#dc comics#x reader#fanfic#batfam#batfamily#jason todd#drabble#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x reader#jason todd drabble#jason todd fluff#jason todd fanfic#fluff drabble#one shot#fluff#masterlist
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ENHYPEN WHEN YOU... put lipgloss on them!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/dc682e927eea8dbd5e2e013a2eb5e52c/ba35efc4f5d7eb88-a8/s540x810/9a17131bde8c0ad1bd6d5b71d382f23cd8893c10.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d29fd92cc439c8cc679f27c1058dbcbc/ba35efc4f5d7eb88-5f/s540x810/c02b2117d53d4b6febef14f2a120932d4a878a10.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b524c5e4bf6c6e2c16f120cf9e506242/ba35efc4f5d7eb88-7b/s540x810/4a7ed7af556fa071602fa3d2258b2ecfe81e1010.jpg)
pairing: enha x fmr genre: fluff warnings: kissing, pet names
LEE HEESEUNG
heeseung is chilling on the couch when you approach him. he doesn’t even glance at you when you sit next to him. only when you start applying the lipgloss does he finally give you his attention.
"what are you doing"
"putting lipgloss on you, duh."
"why?"
"cause i wanna."
he doesn't say another word, letting you put it on. once you're finished, you admire you work. "now you look so pretty!" he mock pouts at you, "aren't i already pretty?"
"the prettiest, but now you're even prettier."
he leans in to kiss you but you pull away, "you're gonna smudge it!"
"don't care."
PARK JONGSEONG
you and jay are getting ready to go out. you've just finished applying your lipgloss when you decide he's gonna wear it too. you turn to face him, and without warning, start putting the lipgloss on him.
he backs away immediately, "i'm not wearing that."
you begin to whine, pouting as he shakes his head. "whine all you want, i'm not wearing it."
you decide to come up with another plan. you apply extra lipgloss on your own lips while he's checking himself out in the mirror. when he turns, you kiss him. he jerks in surprise but welcomes it nonetheless.
when you pull away, he's smiling, as are you because he now has a somewhat even layer of lipgloss on his lips. when his friends ask him later on why he's wearing lipgloss, the only thing he can do is find your eyes and glare as you giggle.
SIM JAEYUN
jaeyun is wrapped around your pretty little finger, you knew it the second you met, as did he. this means he lets you do whatever you want. when you approach him with the lipgloss, he doesn't even hesitate, puckering his lips to let you apply it.
when you're done, you take a selfie together, wasting no time in posting it online.
as he looks at it, he smiles.
"i look pretty," he says.
"you do, always."
"not as pretty as you though!"
"if you say so yunnie."
PARK SUNGHOON
sunghoon is napping on the couch when you decide to play the joke on him.
without moving too much, you quietly apply the lipgloss, trying not to add too much pressure. miraculously, 5 minutes later, he awakens.
"hey baby," you say, trying not to laugh.
he hums in acknowledgement, sitting up to stretch. you pull out your phone, starting video recording. "my baby just woke up, look how pretty he looks," you say to the camera as you pan it to sunghoon.
he tries to hide his face but you don't let him. you softly grab his jaw, turning his face so he's facing the camera. he looks at himself in the camera lens before his face contorts into one of confusion.
"why do my lips look like that?"
you burst into laughter as you hold up the lipgloss for him to see. he curses before violently wiping his lips with the back of his hand. "you're so annoying," he says with a slight whine in his voice.
"but you look so cute! it really makes your lips pop!"
"delete that video!"
"no!"
KIM SUNOO
when you tell sunoo that you got each other matching lipglosses, he's ecstatic. you agree to apply it on each other. he does you first, applying it gently and carefully.
you do the same to him, and you're in awe once you're finished.
"it compliments you so well sun!"
"yours is perfect too. how did you know which ones to get?"
"well i think about your lips all the time. how perfect they are. soft, pretty color, perfect size, so kissable. that's how i knew."
sunos begins to blush. he hits your shoulder lightly, "you can't say stuff like that! you know how i get!"
"i know, i just love teasing you!"
YANG JUNGWON
jungwon is another man totally whipped for you, with no shame.
you're getting ready to go to a party and you've just finished your makeup. jungwon comes up from behind you, admiring you in the mirror. "you somehow get more and more beautiful everyday."
you smile widely, "and you somehow get more and more handsome everyday."
your eyes move between him and the lipgloss, a beautiful shade of pink that would compliment his lips so well.
"i can see the gears turning in your head, go ahead, put it on me."
you squeal in delight as you immediately start applying the lipgloss. jungwon keeps still, puckering when you tell him to. when you're done, you show him in the mirror. "look how good it looks!"
he smacks his lips a couple times, "it does look good. you always know how to make me look even better."
NISHIMURA RIKI
you and riki constantly bicker. not in a serious way but in a cute couples way.
when you tell him you wanna put lipgloss on him, he immediately tells you no. "but riki!" "no!"
you beg him to do it for you. he still denies you, claiming nothing will make him do it, not even your infamous puppy eyes.
you do the only thing you can think of. when he's sleeping, you carefully apply the lipgloss and proceed to take pictures and send them to the group chat.
y/n: look at the pretty princess 🎀
the replies are immediate, the boys responding to your message with crying and laughing emojis.
when riki wakes up an hour later and checks his phone, he rushes outside to find you sitting there like you've done nothing wrong. "you are so done for," he says and before you know it, he's in front of you, tickling you to death.
he refuses to let up, even as you say you're sorry, your sides hurting.
"say you're sorry!'
"i'm sorry ki, i'm sorry!"
AEWON 2024
#aewon#aewon works ☆#k-labels#enhypen#enha#enhypen social media au#enha fluff#enhypen au#enhypen x female reader#enhypen x y/n#enhypen x you#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fic#enhypen fake texts#enhypen ff#enhypen imagines#enhypen scenarios#jungwon#heeseung#jay#jake#sunghoon#sunoo#niki#ni ki enhypen
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thank u for ur brilliant writing 🫰 can u do one where reader has a stomach and is self conscious about it and avoids when he tries to wrap his arms around her stomach or similar stuff like that?
when you’re insecure about the size of your stomach
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/797cc6678666aeef33d32ff1a1a5ce71/aa385e2492f50076-37/s540x810/133818f9ca09100c1db08e3ae984892589bebb73.jpg)
You were curled up on the couch, half-focused on the show playing on the screen but mostly lost in thought. It was a cozy evening, the kind you both loved, just the quiet murmur of voices on the TV and the warmth of being together at home.
Suddenly, you felt the cushion dip beside you and you turned just in time to see Sylus settling in. He slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer in one smooth, effortless motion.
Before you could stop yourself, your hand flew to his, instinctively pushing his arm away. He let go, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at you in surprise.
There was a moment of silence, and the air felt suddenly heavy, caught somewhere between confusion and embarrassment. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you tried to stammer out an explanation. “I-I didn’t mean to—sorry, I just… I wasn’t expecting…”
He didn’t say a word at first, just looking at you with that steady gaze of his. Then, a small smirk crept onto his lips as he leaned back, folding his arms over his chest.
“You’re adorable, you know that?” he said, the gentle tease in his voice softening his words.
You blinked, feeling even more flustered. “What do you mean?”
He raised an eyebrow, giving you a look that told you he knew exactly what was going through your mind. “Come on, kitten. You think I haven’t noticed how you shy away when I go for your waist? Or the way you tense up when I hold you close?”
You felt a lump in your throat as his words sank in. He knew. He knew and for a second, you wanted to just melt into the couch cushions, to hide from the way he looked at you—so understanding, so calm. You took a shaky breath, glancing down. “I… I just… I feel like my stomach’s too… big.”
The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. You barely dared to look up at him but when you did, there was a warmth in his eyes that wrapped around you as surely as any embrace.
Sylus chuckled softly, reaching out again but this time his touch was gentle, his fingers just barely grazing your side. “Sweetie” he murmured, his voice dropping to that tone he only used when he really wanted you to listen. “I don’t care if you’ve got a flat stomach or if you’re the size of a hippo. It’s all just more to love.”
You felt a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “A hippo?”
He shrugged, that teasing smirk lighting up his face. “What? Hippos are pretty cute, if you ask me.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Besides, I like having a little more of you to hold onto.”
Your cheeks went hot, and you let out a small laugh, finally relaxing as his arms found their way back around your waist. This time, you didn’t push him away. Instead, you let yourself sink into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Thank you” you murmured, your voice quiet but sincere.
He squeezed you a little tighter, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. “Anytime, kitten” he whispered, a soft chuckle following. “Though I’ll admit, it’s kind of fun seeing you all flustered. You’re so cute when you try to act tough.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are, all cuddled up with me” he teased, pulling you even closer.
You both settled into the quiet again, but this time it was warm and comfortable, filled with the unspoken promise that no matter what, he would love you exactly as you were—no matter what you saw in the mirror.
#love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x you
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Happy 6k!!!! That’s so exciting and you deserve it :)
Can I request Bucky & touch starved?
.⋆。Small Adjustments。⋆.
Bucky Barnes x plus size reader
To Bucky, touch brought with it pain and suffering but maybe it can be different with you
Warnings: touch starved!Bucky, fluff, mutual pining, mention of torture, bit of hurt/comfort WC: 1.3k
6k Follower Celebration Bingo
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
It was an unspoken agreement amongst the Avengers that under no circumstances was Bucky to be touched. There were one too many instances of him lashing out at even the smallest of touches and after Peter’s arm was almost broken when he grabbed Bucky’s shoulder to steady himself after tripping, the rule was firmly set in place.
Touch had always been the harbinger of pain to Bucky. He had experienced and survived thousands of experiments; he knew the difference between acids just based on how much they burned him when they made contact with his skin. He knew what it was like to be ripped apart from the inside out as he was stitched back together while fully conscious. Bucky’s nerves were permanently scarred with each and every moment of pain, ensuring that he would never forget what he had gone through. Needless to say, he appreciated the physical distance the Avengers afforded him, even if it did make his chest ache sometimes.
He saw the friendly touches between them all— a hug after a hard mission, a clap on the back during training, even the occasional platonic cuddling during movie nights and he couldn’t help but be envious, especially when it came to you.
You were, by far, the most affectionate person he had ever met. You didn’t hesitate to wrap yourself around anyone who needed a hug, your hand was quite frequently clamped with someone else’s (Natasha’s or Wanda’s more often than not). You weren’t selfish with your touch and though it could be deadly thanks to your training, Bucky knew that you would never hurt the people you cared about.
“Barnes~ where are you!” Bucky’s lips curled into a gentle smile as your voice floated through the hallway, immediately brightening up the entire building.
“I’m in the kitchen, doll!” He shouted back before your footsteps quickened and you burst into the room. Your eyes, although still bleary with sleep even though it was 2 in the afternoon, positively sparkled as soon as you spotted the ex-assassin. Bucky raised an eyebrow at you, and you flustered slightly, looking down at what you were wearing.
“I thought I lost that shirt.”
“Yeah well don’t leave your stuff out if you don’t want someone to steal it.” You shrugged as you skipped over to the pot of fresh coffee still sitting in the machine.
“I seem to remember putting that shirt away, in my closet, in my locked bedroom.” Bucky took a sip of his own coffee.
“I don’t know what to tell you, I think old age is finally getting to you.” You tried to hide your warming cheeks behind your mug but he could see right through you.
“Whatever you say doll.” A comfortable silence settled over the both of you for a moment before you cleared your throat.
“So… we have the place to ourselves today,” Bucky knew what was coming, “wanna binge-watch Supernatural with me?” You looked up at him with such a hopeful expression on your face, it made his heart skip a beat.
“I don’t know, I was planning on going for a long run today.” His voice tilted up but in your post-sleep haze, you couldn’t pick up on the shift in his tone. Immediately, your eyes dropped and your bottom lip poked out. Bucky’s stomach flipped and suddenly all he wanted to do was to scoop you up into his arms and kiss away your pout. Instead, he blurted out quickly, “Hey, hey. I was just teasing. Of course I’ll watch with you. Gotta see what Sean and Dan get up to.”
You sniffed. “It’s Sam and Dean and you know it. Don’t pretend you’re not as obsessed as I am.” The band around his heart loosened.
“Yeah sure. You want Chinese or Thai?” He fished his phone out from his pocket.
“Like you even have to ask.” You retorted.
——————
You felt like you were sitting next to a feral cat as the food coma finally set in. Empty boxes of food were scattered around the coffee table in front of you while yet another episode started up but it wasn’t as if you were paying any sort of attention to the screen in front of you.
Somehow, during your feast of questionable takeout, Bucky had migrated from where he had been perched on the other side of the couch to sitting beside you, the thick muscle of his thigh almost touching your knee where you were curled up. His blue eyes stayed glued to the TV while he sighed heavily and leaned back into the couch cushions.
You held your breath as his shoulders dropped, leaving barely an inch of space between you. This was the closest Bucky had ever gotten to you and you would be damned if you fucked this up. Of course you knew about his aversion to touch, you had even witnessed his violent response to it first hand but Jesus did you want to feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his body as he hugged you.
Bucky was undoubtedly your best friend out of all the Avengers yet he was the only one to have never felt your embrace.
Your body trembled as you tried to keep yourself still. You didn’t want to accidentally brush against him and send him scrambling off but you also didn’t want to move away and give him the impression that you didn’t want him near you. And selfishly, you did want him beside you if only to fuel your hopeless crush on the man.
There was a gunshot on the screen, startling you. You jumped and suddenly, you were half on top of Bucky.
Your palm spread across the expanse of his stomach, letting you feel the hardness of his abs and the warmth that radiated off of him. The tip of your nose brushed against his as your eyes locked. You both stayed there for a second before the reality of the situation hit you squarely in the chest.
“Oh god Bucky I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You threw yourself back against the arm of the couch as panic bubbled up in your gut. Bucky remained frozen where he sat, both his hands slightly raised as he looked down at his lap. “Bucky I-“ Your voice was thick with tears.
You shook your head as you pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes, desperately trying to keep them away. How stupid were you? You knew you should’ve just given him some more space, paid attention to the TV so you would know if something would startle you. Do literally anything else besides jumping on the man with severe trauma. You messed everything up.
“Doll,” Bucky cooed as his hand gently wrapped around your wrists, slowly pulling them down so he could look at you, “I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?” He chuckled softly, now bringing your hands into his lap so he could hold them.
“How could I ever be mad at you? I know it was an accident but more than that, I know you would never want to hurt me. I’m safe with you.” You could feel the slight tremble in his hands like he was struggling to keep touching you but Bucky refused to let go, he even shuffled closer to you. You nodded but stayed quiet. He finally smiled. “Besides, I think it’s time I got one of those famous Y/N hugs. Not now of course, I’m way too fucked up for that, but soon.”
“Don’t be mean to yourself Barnes,” you scolded, “lots of people hurt you. You get to be patient with healing. We just make small adjustments, build up to it y’a know.”
“Yeah, small adjustments.” His right hand slid into your left, your fingers intertwining as you both melted back into the couch, your eyes drifting back to your show that neither of you would be paying any attention to. After a few minutes, Bucky’s thumb began to rub against the skin of your knuckles, a delicate back and forth that both sent a flurry of butterflies into flight in your stomach and ignited your cheeks with a blazing heat.
Small adjustments indeed.
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e71bb2ec32a9b854539b8eb81eaa9512/0e237e2fa1f95b55-a0/s540x810/449948b6d2fb4a3d61161867f1c2b097ccd8e6ad.jpg)
I know a 3 for 3 for Laura is great but I think a Dorym silken squall wedding one-shot would eat so incredibly hard
Also, tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of starting Critical Role. This show literally changed my life. I’m so grateful that I get to watch these friends play this game every week, even if I have to wake up at 4 am for it (yes I’m coming out as European I literally willingly wake up every friday at 4 am to watch the new episodes live even though I have Beacon). But anyway enough sappy stuff. This piece (which is my greatest piece ever, let’s be honest) includes a lot of cute details which I will highlight under the cut!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5cf48b982ec9f37808327efaf2570b74/0e237e2fa1f95b55-2d/s540x810/7a4c2287ecb778bc7c96e41d223486670947ebb0.jpg)
First, these are Dorian and Orym’s full outfits that I had pre-drawn so it would make the process much easier. I did swap out some little things.
Now for the final piece:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e1aeeefbeed88a0f832d5285f1791aff/0e237e2fa1f95b55-63/s540x810/0b0b94fe4774c6d1ad14bd843725666dd870af13.jpg)
- Dorian’s wedding ring includes an emerald (obv bc Orym’s color is green. And it has leaves wrapped around to symbolize Orym’s ties to nature. I did use a lovely reference for this ring from pinterest. Even though Orym’s wedding ring doesn’t show here, I would like to think it has a blue sapphire surrounded by swirly wind designs to symbolize Dorian’s air genasi heritage.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7a85e6e17e00c561a7ac100af8e8deee/0e237e2fa1f95b55-3a/s540x810/0dde29254d078733e082998d5f22b0fe10c8431f.jpg)
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- The embroidery on Dorian’s vest references the day and night cycle, with the sun being highest and the moon being lower. (Also I fucking ate these pearls, they’re stunning)
- Even though Orym’s beautiful tattoo is covered, I still referenced it by ‘carving’ it into his shoulder pauldron. Big moon, little moon.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/462f4ab5beb4e6855e6b6952a984179a/0e237e2fa1f95b55-1c/s540x810/47814efd7701b6dd13faeb7b03d755d836950ad6.jpg)
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- Two clothing details on Orym: another Will reference, Orym wears Will’s sash.
- The silken squall wings which are a reference to Dorian’s first outfit.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/e3e3b25a0dc4aa682889c6b415eefdbf/0e237e2fa1f95b55-ea/s540x810/499473e970a12d51dedce6125f94102149b19d76.jpg)
- And finally, Dorian wears a bunch of flowers in his hair. They’re all white with the exception of a single blue flower. This is in reference to the blue flower Orym druid crafted into Dorian’s hair in one of the very first episodes of the campaign to help Dorian’s performance check. It’s one of their very first cutesy moments, so I thought it was a lovely little detail to include.
#hey guys this took me exactly 22 hours#but dare I say it#i fucking ate this up#please dorym wedding one shot I’m begging on my knees#like I love imodna but I just think they would have a small intimate wedding#and like the dorym wedding would be an entire political event which would have so many one shot possibilities#critical role#bells hells#my art#fanart#dorian storm#orym of the air ashari#dorym#cr3#critical role fanart
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