#maybe its just too late. i should maybe go to sleep. i probably will

[alpinelogy]

.

[toastsnaffler]

iwtv is rly getting to me 😭 I feel sooo bad for claudia no one tell me anything bc idk the book lore + I dont want spoilers but istg she's gonna kill herself in that theatre fire...

[arolesbianism]

Y'know there already is such a nonexistent market for oni art in general so the fact that I wanna draw more au art is killing me. Like I draw for fun and don't need notes to be happy with a piece but also I need ppl to view my art and be curious and ask questions because while I may not desperately need approval I do desperately need excuses to gush abt the things I like

[misctf]

A Surprise Gift

“Are you fucking for real dude?” Jim slammed the door to their apartment and stumbled toward the couch, “I was this close.” He sat down and stared daggers at his roommate.

“She wasn’t interested bro.” Eric replied, “You were acting like a fucking creep.” Jim muttered a few curse words under his breath, “Sober up.” He tossed him a water bottle.

“Fucking cock blocker.” Jim whined before chugging the water, “She would’ve been lucky to...”

“You say that about everyone. Its gross man.” Eric sighed, “Look, I’m going to bed. You should too. And clean up the kitchen tomorrow. I’m tired of all the dishes in the sink.” Jim shot him another dirty look and stumbled to his bed.

“Fucking asshole.” Eric mumbled, hoping to forget this stupid night out. 

_______

The next morning, Eric stumbled out of his room in just a pair of gray boxers. It was Sunday and he had a few things he needed to get done- mainly study for an upcoming exam and exercise. And of course, Jim was up playing videogames.

“Did you start on the dishes?” Jim glared at Eric, and before they could continue bickering, someone knocked on their door.

Jim mumbled something about it being too early, as Eric walked over and opened the door. Sitting in front of the door was a white box, addressed to Jim.

“Hey Jim, you got something.” Eric said, placing the box on the counter, “Any idea what it might be?”

Jim smirked, “Probably from one of my admirers.” He chucked, walking over and tearing open the box, “See dude, this is what happens when you... what the fuck?”

Eric couldn’t help but laugh at the contents of the box. Whoever left it had a sense of humor. There were several dick shaped lollipops, all of various sizes and colors. Jim looked mortified as he inspected them.

“Was this you dude?”

“Wasn’t me.” Eric replied, walking over and inspecting the contents, “Maybe someone’s trying to tell you something. You gonna try one?”

“No fucking way man.” Jim grimaced in disgust, “This mouth doesn’t suck dick. I’m throwing this shit out.”

Eric chuckled, “I’m not that insecure about my sexuality.” He said with a grin, plopping one of the lollipops in his mouth, “Besides, don’t you like doing it with guys too?”

Jim smirked, “I get sucked or I fuck. Not the other way around. I’m not some hole.”

Eric wanted to call Jim an asshole, but was at a loss for words. The flavor of the lollipop was intense, coating his mouth with an intoxicating sweetness. He began sucking vigorously on the lollipop, earning him a look from Jim.

“Yo dude, you enjoying that?” Jim chuckled.

Eric’s eyes widened, “Damn,” He chucked in embarrassment, “It’s pretty good.” He looked at the time though and sighed, “Shit I need to get ready. Finish those dishes, okay?”

But the rest of the day just didn’t feel right to Eric. Likely from the booze he told himself. His workout was shitty and even studying felt useless. Material he mastered was almost as confusing as when he first started. Feeling defeated, he headed back to his apartment.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Jim asked, his eyes never leaving the TV.

“Not much, just feeling off.” Eric replied, absent mindedly grabbing another lollipop and sucking on it, “Just gonna get ready for bed and start fresh tomorrow.” He stumbled to his room, collapsing onto his bed and drifting to sleep.

_______

The next morning brought no relief. In fact, Eric felt worse. As he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, he noticed things were off. Maybe it was the lighter color of his hair, or the fact that his triceps and biceps looked less swole. Same with his pecs and legs for that matter. He poked at his pec and grimaced. It felt less firm, almost as if the muscle behind them was breaking down.

“I just need to work out.” He mumbled.

He threw on a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt, noticing that they seemed baggy on him compared to their usual tight fit. He probably fucked them up in the laundry. But he was running late- he didn’t have time to worry.

“See yA lAter!” He called out to Jim- his voice cracking, which caused him to turn red with embarrassment.

Jim raised an eyebrow and watched as Eric grabbed another lollipop, “Hey dude, maybe...” But before he could say anything, Eric was gone.

_______

Eric sighed as he returned to the apartment later that day, feeling defeated. He couldn’t focus on the review session his professor was leading. Every time he looked up, he couldn’t help but stare at some of the men in his class. More specifically their muscular arms, sexy smiles, and facial hair. While Eric never seemed to notice those things before, it was all he could focus on during class.

“Hey mAn.” Why the fuck did his voice keep cracking?

Jim looked over at Eric, “Woah dude, you don’t look so good.” He walked over to his roommate. Eric blushed when he noticed Jim wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

He must’ve just worked out. Eric could smell his musk and couldn’t help but notice how big his arms appeared. The heat from his body was radiating, and without thinking, Eric placed a hand on his roommate’s large pec. It felt so good- so firm in his grasp.

“Woah dude, what the fuck?” Eric’s hand shot to his side. He looked down, deep in thought and trying to make sense of his actions.

Before Jim could speak again, Eric grabbed another lollipop and fled to his room, slamming the door and collapsing onto bed, tears stinging at his eyes.

_______

The following morning, Eric awoke and daintily hopped out of bed and sauntered to the bathroom. He found himself needing to pull up his boxers to prevent them from sliding off his skinny waste. When Eric rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stared in the mirror, he jumped.

“Wh-what the fuck?” He whispered, his voice more high pitched and feminine, “Where’d my pit hair go?” He mumbled raising an arm above his head, “Fuck what happened to my muscles?” Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. 

His hard earned muscles- tokens of his masculinity- all seemed to have shrunk down to nothing. His abs that he worked so hard on were gone, replaced by a thin layer of fat. He spent years working to get his body to peak athletic performance. Even a few days of underperformance at the gym shouldn’t have reversed his hard earned gains. He needed to get help... Jim could help him, right? Jim always looked good. So muscular and manly. Eric shook his head and took a few deep breaths.

“I kinda look like the guys Jim brings home” He whispered, a strange pride rising from within him, “I-I need to talk to Jim”, He left to find Jim. But as he did, he noticed the dishes still piled in the sink, “Hmm I should take care of those for Jim. He works so hard.” He thought, deviating from his path and grabbing another lollipop. If he was going to do the dishes, he might as well treat himself.

And when he finally finished, he treated himself to another lollipop. Barely remembering why he wanted to talk, he went to knock on Jim’s door. But the sound coming from the other side stopped him- the unmistakable sound of some porn video. And he could hear his roommate moaning.

With each masculine moan, Eric’s mind was melting. Why was some porno making Jim moan like that? Especially when he could make Jim moan like that? The thought of pleasing Jim... it was intoxicating. And as these thoughts violated his mind, he reached down and massaged his ass. He imagined Jim- his sweaty body, his big muscles, his huge dick- grabbing and slapping his ass And as he teased his asshole, Eric’s eyes began to widen- what the fuck was he thinking?  

He scurried back to his room, forgetting that he had an exam today. Instead, he sat there, sucking on another lollipop, and trying to make sense of what was happening to him. All the while, unaware that his ass was starting to fatten up as his dick shrank.  

_______

Eric stumbled out of his room a few hours later, hungering for another lollipop. His ass was massive now- nearly spilling out of his tight boxers. At least they weren’t loose anymore. But his gait had shifted too. He would never be able to walk again without showing off his ass with his sexy saunter. No one would ignore it- especially not Jim.

“Dude...” Jim said, looking up from his videogame, “Fuck...”

Eric’s face turned red, “Dude, I don’t...” He tried to find another lollipop but they were gone, “Bro! What happened to all the...?”

“You ate them all.” Jim said, walking over to Eric, “Shit, what happened to you dude?”

But Eric was near tears, “I need those lollipops, please.” He whined, “They’re so good.” And without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around Jim’s muscular torso and sobbed into his pecs.

Jim smirked. Since when was Eric so short? And damn, when did his ass get so fuckable? The jock cupped Eric’s chin and stared deeply into his eyes.

“Eric, I don’t know what happened to you.” He said with a grin, “But if you wanna suck cock so bad, why settle for those stupid lollipops?”

Eric looked up at him with wide eyes, unable to reply. Jim slowly pushed Eric to his knees, never breaking eye contact. And Eric, despite the voice in the back of his head screaming for him to stop, pulled down Jim’s shorts. His roommate’s monster of a cock slapped him in the face.

“Go on.” Jim encouraged, “I think you owe me for all the times you cock blocked me. Right roomie?”  

And with that, Eric wrapped his lips around Jim’s thick cock. The sensation was even more intoxicating than the lollipops. It filled his mouth- the saltiness dancing across his taste buds, while the smell of Jim’s manly musk invaded his nostrils. Eric’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as Jim thrust his cock deeper and deeper into his formerly straight roommate’s throat. And with each thrust, Eric’s hair became lighter and lighter- until settling on platinum blond. At the same time, Eric’s mind was breaking down. His interest in sports disintegrated- he would email his coaches that he was quitting the team. His desire to succeed in school was replaced by a need to suck and get fucked- he would drop out of school tomorrow. Any decency or respect he commanded was drowned in a sea of lust- a need for cock. Any cock, anywhere. Eric’s eyes became vacant and glazed over as the remainder of his intelligence, kindness, and ambition disappeared into the void. And when Jim caught the dull, submissive, slutty look in his roommate’s eyes, he came.

_______

It had been a few weeks since then and Eric continued to serve his sexy roommate. Jim would go to practice and classes, while Eric would take care of things around the apartment. And when Jim would return, Eric was happy to provide him with either his mouth or ass. Sure, it was a surprise to when he came out as gay. And an even bigger surprise when he dropped out of college. But Eric hadn’t a care in the world. Just a hole- as Jim called him.

As he spent another day cleaning up after Jim, he heard a knock at the door.

“OMG is Scott here already?” Eric sang. Jim was nice enough to let the other members of the team use Eric when they needed. But Eric was disappointed to find just a letter addressed to him, “Hmm okay then.” He whined, opening it.

His vacant eyes read through the letter. Something about an apology. That those lollipops were meant to teach Jim a lesson for using others as nothing more than holes. That this wasn’t what they wanted. That there could be a way to reverse this. Eric giggled- a voice screaming from within his mind to reverse it. To call the number left on the letter and return him to his prior self. But Eric shrugged and tore the letter- the voice in the back of his head now sobbing.

“Reverse this?” He giggled, “Not a chance.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Haruta seeking revenge on Nanami's heavy pregnant wife

Pairing: husband!Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: When Haruta hears about Nanami's wife, he is more than delighted to search and kill her. He didn't think about (y/n)'s very own abilities and her furious husband though.

Warnings: injury, language, pregnancy, really angry hot Nanami, not 100% proofread as I have to get going now and won't be able to publish this today otherwise

Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut @arehzhera @mynahx3 @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @wifenanami @arehzhera @mysuperrainbow @nanami-s-sunshine @nervoussongcherryblossom

You.

His heart almost beats out of his chest just thinking about the things these creatures are able to do. You live here, at Shibuya. When Nanami received the call about what is going on here, he instructed you to stay home with all doors closed. After all, you are heavy pregnant with his child. Despite being a great jujutsu sorcerer, you shouldn’t be on the streets right now. No harm should ever come to you.

But right now, you aren’t replying to any messages your husband sends you, not a single sign of life.

He yanks the blonde-haired man up by his ponytails, on the brick of losing his temper completely. Not only did this thing kill countless of his comrades on its way, but maybe him and his comrades did something to you. Why would you not reply to his countless messages? If they hurt a single hair on your precious body…

Nanami slams him into a nearby building with full force. Despite the abilities of that man, he won’t be able to survive that.

“Did you receive any sign from (y/n)?”, Nanami questions towards the two girls, kneeling in front of Nitta to inspect her wounds.

They might look bad, but she’ll survive if she sees Shoko within the next hours.

“No. No sign at all”, Nitta mumbles.

Everyone knows about the value you hold for Kento Nanami. No wonder, after all you are his precious wife, the only human being on this earth who is able to make his features soften and steal a smile from him. Yes, you are truly special to him. And the fact that you are not replying…Nobara swallows, the look on his face sending shivers down her spine. You should have been evacuated, out of Shibuya, maybe staying at Jujutsu High as long as the fight goes on. But it was already too late, it would be way too dangerous to leave now.

“What is going on?”, he mutters to himself.

“I’m sure your wife is fine. She’s tough, someone like that loser wouldn’t be able to bring her down.”

His eyes dart towards Nobara. Yes, she’s right. You have to home. Maybe you just fell asleep. The pregnancy made you tired all the time. Probably you’re laying on the couch, the chaos around you completely unnoticed. Yes, that’s how it must be.

“I am sure he wasn’t alone. Maybe someone found one of his accomplices. It’s best we bring them down before they cause more trouble. ”

Nanami strictly forbid you to go out on the streets. And that’s what you do, laying on the couch with the blanket your precious husband wrapped you in pulled up to the nose. You just woke up from a heavy sleep, lifting yourself up just a bit to look out of the window.

“What is going on down there?” you mutter to yourself.

Please, let Kento be alright. He promised to return to you, that nothing major will happen. Oh, how much you wished you could help. Your hands caress your swollen belly softly. Fighting is no option at the moment, though. All you can do is say here in safety until they successfully exorcised all courses around Shibuya. You sign to yourself, lids already hanging so low that you are on the brick of passing out again. After this nap, you’ll definitely call him.

“Still no sign…”, Nanami mumbles, the only response being your angelic voice which directs him to your mailbox.

“Maybe she’s just sleeping, after all (y/n) is pregnant, right? Would you like to call someone to look after her? Your shared apartment is only two blocks away, right?”, Nitta suggests.

“I can look after her!” Nobara interjects immediately.

“No, that wouldn’t be wise. We still have to look after the other assistance directors. There’s no way he worked alone. When the area is safe, I will go and look after her myself”, Nanami responses before putting his phone back.

You always sleep around this time. Surely everything is alright. After all, no one knows where he lives…right?

Haruta smiles to himself, body not moving an inch before the steps of his three opponents are gone.

“Your pregnant wife, huh? So killing her counts as a double kill, how exciting!”

-at your apartment-

Your eyes snap open immediately. The energy around you completely changed. What you feel here…Your whole body is tense, hands clenched into fists. That’s cursed energy, without any doubt.

As fast as possible you lift yourself off the couch, grabbing your throwing knives placed underneath the couch. When Kento got the call, you knew this has to be something big, that you might not be safe at Shibuya anymore.

“I know how much I’m asking from you, but please stay here and lock the door. At this point it would be even more dangerous to leave. Promise that you’ll be careful, sweetheart.”

Your husband wrapped his arms tightly around you, careful not to squeeze your sensitive belly in the process.

“I know my limits, Kento. I would never risk the life of our child for a fight. As much as I’d love to help you out, I will stay here until you tell me it’s over”, you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before he left your apartment with one last loving look back.

Kento. You should give him a call, at least message him about what you feel. As fast as possible you type his number, eyes darted towards the entrance. There isn’t much time left, whatever is on its way here will soon arrive.

“(y/n), I was dead worried about you. Are you alright?”

“Someone’s here. Someone with heavy cursed energy, Kento. I will do what I can, but-“

“Did you really think a locked door would be enough to keep your enemies out of here? Oh, look at you, congrats for putting a baby inside you! That was that blonde-haired man, wasn’t it? Y’know, I’m here because of him, so better be thankful. Come on, don’t look at me like that, let me give you a hug.”

Instinctively, you let your phone fall to the ground, your throwing knives leaving your fingertips at horrendous speed. As fast as possible you seek shelter behind your couch, escaping his blade just in time before he’s able to pierce through your shoulder.

Normally, you would have been able to dodge his attack easily, but with that heavy belly of yours, every sudden movement feels like a burden. You depend on your husband’s help, that’s for sure. The man with the blonde ponytail and ruptured face might not be an impossible strong opponent, but you are restricted. And one single hit might not only mean that he hurts you, but also your unborn baby…

You furrow your brows, eyes busy analysing his moves.

“You know who’s responsible for how wrecked up my face looks? Your husband! He even pulled my hair”, the man in front of you cries out, sword just about to hit you when you escape his force just in time.

“I get it, you have a really kickable face after all”, you press out, grabbing your katana under the kitchen table to dodge his attack.

You huff heavily, lungs feeling as if they’ll burst every minute while you taste blood on your tongue. Fuck, this is more strenuous than expected. Your baby kicks you uncomfortably in your guts, making you see stars for a second. A second in which he is able to place another hit, a second in which he is able to brush over your forehead with enough force to make your skin burst.

All you see is red, blood taking your sight almost completely. With a swift motion you try to wipe it away, try to get a hold of yourself. But before you are even able to breathe again, he forces his blade against yours.

“He’s already on his way, I would shit my pants if I was you”, you hiss through gritted teeth, jumping onto the table in order to have the higher ground.

You feel so damn tired. The heavy weight on your belly, the fact that you have to pee again and that you haven’t trained in ages. You aren’t dumb, you are very aware of the fact that you are fucked right now. But you know Kento heard you, that he is already on his way. You just have to fight back a little while longer…

“Oh, don’t worry about me”, he casually replies.

You stare at his empty hands, eyes wide open in horror. Where the hell did his sword go? Did he lose it while the both of you were fighting? No, you didn’t hit him so hard, this can’t be. But where-

A toe-curling scream escapes your lips when a scorching pain runs through your left thigh. You don’t dare to look don’t, this just has to be his blade.

“How?” you breathe out.

Calm your breathing, calm your pounding heart. You have to keep going, you have to-

Suddenly your shoulder bursts open, blood spilling over your husband’s shirt. You can’t breathe, whole body on fire. His sword, it’s still stuck in your shoulder. Just when it’s about to move out again, you grab the blade with your naked hands to stop it from piercing through you again, your sharp and fast breaths hanging in the air.

“Come on, why stop now when it’s getting funny? I was aiming for your fat belly next”, the guy in front of you complains with a pout.

Blood rushes through your ears, glossy eyes fixated on him in front of you.

“But fine, if you want it that way, I will use my own hands.”

Fuck, what are you supposed to do? If you let go of the sword that cuts through your palms, he will stab your unborn child. But if you lay here and do nothing, he will punch your belly with full force. You have to make a decision, you have to save your unborn child, the child you and Kento awaited for years now. The look on his face when he found out, the tears of joy that pooled his eyes…

You can’t die here. And so does your child.

With the last force you have left in your body, you kick his chest while still holding onto his sword tightly. Fuck, every movement hurts like hell, your blood spilled on the carpet you bought a few weeks ago. You can’t do this any longer, you need to get out of here, you-

“You have some nerves.”

His sheer presence is enough to make the man in front of you stop in his tracks.

“Kento…”, you mumble, wave of relief washing over you.

He’s here, your knight in shining armour, your loving husband. You did it. You held on just long enough.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson by now. Didn’t I teach you what you get for the things you do?”

His whole body is tense, the muscles underneath his shirt to tight that they might burst every minute. Kento grabs the neck of the man who attacked you earlier with full force, dragging him across the room.

“Give up and die already”, Kento hisses.

Tears start to pool this man’s eyes, staring at your husband with wide eyes while he throws him through the bursting window, down onto the streets of Shibuya, over 10 floors.

Without hesitation he hurries to your side, hand gently cupping your cheek. The threatful man from only seconds ago is gone in the wind. What is left is your loving husband who caresses your belly softly, lines of worry decorating his face while scanning over your bloody body.

“Don’t worry, this is nothing Shoko can’t fix. The…the baby is fine…”, you huff out.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. I thought he was dead already, never did I imagine that…”

“Don’t think about it too much, Kento. This is in no way your fault. The most important thing is that the baby is fine. That’s all that matters.”

“But you matter too, (y/n). You are the love of my life. When you called me and I heard his voice, a part of me died. That he was able to injure you, that he put his hands on your delicate skin…I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I love you so much…”

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you and lifts your trembling figure off the ground.

“I love you too. But you have to admit I did pretty well”, you mutter against his chest.

“You definitely did. You are my wife, after all”, Kento replies with a small smile, carrying you to Shoko.

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | 3 AM

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱

Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career. 

There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.

“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.” 

San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes. 

“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!” 

“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you. 

“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.” 

With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff. 

You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.

“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this. 

But he can’t sleep here. 

“San. San, are you awake?” 

“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!” 

San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to. 

“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.” 

You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.

It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.

San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.” 

He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing. 

“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…” 

“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it. 

“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”

“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!” 

This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.

Like when you need to kick him out of your bed. 

He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy. 

So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.

His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober. 

And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you. 

If you reach that point. 

“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks.  “I like kissing you.” 

You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.” 

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same. 

“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.” 

“Then what time is it?”

Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him. 

“It’s time for you to go to bed.” 

“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again. 

“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on. 

But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.

“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!” 

San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?” 

Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since. 

Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though. 

“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “

The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom. 

“Noona.” 

You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again. 

“She’s in early today, right?” 

The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.

“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.” 

He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?

Yeah, that’s probably it. 

“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.

“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?” 

And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance. 

“Okay.”

San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.

“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly. 

“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.

“Right, none of that.”

“Just cuddles?” 

As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding. 

“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.” 

Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t. 

You’re feeling suddenly inspired. 

(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[inosukijiro]

𝗚𝗜𝗬𝗨𝗨 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗖��𝗢𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗧

𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu decides its time to tell you how he feels.

━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. this is part two. or not, it really doesn’t matter if you read the first part. loved this idea bc i love crochet. currently making a giyuu amigurumi doll atm, so yay me ig

━ 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. im so sorry for being gone for almost two months. i was burnt out. but i have lots of prompts / plot ideas written down and just have to finish them. also also!! season 4 was crazy, i loved every minute of it but that ending – im so not ready for the final arc. anyways, thank you for the support as usual, luv u besties

━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. fluff. use of swear words (not a lot, but they are there). giyuu-centric. modern reader in kny. mentions of crochet and amigurumi. gender-neutral reader. also very poor dialogue probably, i avoid talking irl so yk. 1.9k words.

first part (optional); giyuu has a crush

Giyuu is about to have a stroke. He’s alone in his room late at night. He should be sleeping, but he can't imagine doing so. The moon light is coming through his window and all he can do is stare at the crochet hook in his hand as his fingers remain still. He is hunched, hovering over a ball of yarn in his lap. He can't shake the feeling of inadequacy that heavily weighed on him because he really has no idea what he’s doing.

You had this habit of making him gifts. Cute little amigurumi things and it had become a habit of his waiting when you’ll show up with one just for him. They’re almost always an animal or some sea creature, maybe even a small plant that he has sitting on display in his room somewhere. They are always so adorable and tiny, always fitting in the palm of his hand. It's almost like clockwork at this point, and Giyuu is always so flattered to receive them.

He remembers the little tiny baby sea turtle you have made for him. Its flippers rested against the palms of his cupped hands; its eyes and lids sewed on so perfectly along with the rest of it. It’s so intricate, he almost thought it was real. He remembers bringing it up to his face, staring at it in its tiny face, because for some reason this time he really didn’t know how to act.

He remembers you giggling, quickly explaining that you really didn’t know what to make him this time – lies, you have so many patterns. You just care too much about his opinion and his likes. Honestly, you could make him anything you wanted and he would be happy.

❛ And then I thought, ‘well you are the Water Pillar after all’. And I thought the sea turtle was kinda cute too, so I wanted to make it for you. Now you have a little friend to keep you company on your mission! ❜

Now here he was, with little idea of what he was doing. A frustrated sigh left his lips. He began working the yarn along with the hook – all his movement completely hesitant and fumbling. It would be a lie to say that he had never been skillful with his hands; he is a swordsman after all. However, it was clear that he wasn’t as skillful as you regarding this, and it makes sense. He had never picked up any knitting or crochet hooks until tonight at this ungodly hour.

Sure, he could have just crafted a wooden figurine. It is something he vaguely knows how to do, and seems like a more appealing thought now, plus, he knows that you would love it either way. But all he wanted to do was something special. He wanted to convey his feelings to you through what you love doing the most and give you something that he knows you would like. And for about a moment he wonders if this is a good idea. Then decides that he doesn’t care anymore. This is going to make or break him. He procrastinated this long enough.

Though hours passed and Giyuu is shocked to consider it done. He hoped it was. He glances over at his window and the sun is barely over the horizon. And as much as Giyuu loves you, he can't do this again. No, that is also a lie. He would if you asked. But he couldn’t help but feel disgruntled. He didn’t even know what he made. It is some type of plushie. It has a big body with some stubby legs. Its arms are almost the length of it too, if not longer, making them seem like large floppy paws. Its head; he is unsure if it's too big as it’s the same size as the body, but it’s a bit too late now to do anything about it. He made small ears on the top, and added some type of embroidery to make the eyes – as no buttons seemed to look right to him. There was no nose or mouth either, because Giyuu couldn’t figure out how to add them without making it look worse than it already does.

He frowned at the finished product, before hanging his head. It was done, yes. But to him, he knows that he could have done a much better job. And the pang of disappointment didn’t help. Because surely you deserve something better than this crude attempt at a gift.

However, for some reason Giyuu was oddly excited. Maybe it was the ice cold water he almost drowned himself awake to. But he really didn’t pay it any mind. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Maybe he just wanted to get it over with. He was afraid, so very afraid because this was the first time he was outwardly seeking your validation. But he was also anticipating the interaction. Because you were so nice. And he shouldn’t be afraid.

So here he was now, standing in front of you. And suddenly, he can't remember why he was so afraid in the first place. You looked so delightfully happy just like he had hoped. He watched as you took the plush from his hand, your fingers just barely brushing against his. And he felt his palms get clammy again. You were so delicate with it, and honestly, if you had asked Giyuu, perhaps you were a bit too delicate. He didn’t think that it deserved such care. He watched as you brushed your thumb over the soft yarn. Your eyes staring intently at it, and Giyuu couldn’t place the look you were giving.

“Giyuu, it’s adorable!” Your eyes sparked just a little bit when you looked back up at him. The plush is pressed against your chest right now. So softly, almost protectively and Giyuu actually can't believe it. Truly, he is in disbelief. You actually liked it? You really must’ve, because you’re going on about the plush; gushing over it and completely unfazed by any of its imperfections. You asked how he made it and when he had the time. It was nice, until you asked him why. And he got all nervous again.

Well… He responds. “You make me such nice things all the time. And I wanted to make you something as well. To show my appreciation.”

Oh! You are a little taken aback by that as a light blush starts to burn on your cheeks. You were definitely feeling the appreciation. You just never really anticipated Giyuu to make you something. Not because you thought he was incapable, or anything like that. You just… liked making things, and if that happened to be for Giyuu more than others you weren’t going to deny it. It made you happy to do so. And you never really expected anything in return. But for him to make you something, the gesture kind of made you feel special. It was so sweet!

“Of course, I’m glad you like it. You… mean a lot to me you know. Um…” He stops because he's a bit flush. He wants to confess so badly and he doesn’t understand; why is it so hard. Just say it. It's like you are waiting for him to – and you are – but you are so completely and utterly patient with him that sometimes he wished you weren’t. “Ngh, don’t look at me like that.”

You giggle softly. You can’t help it. Why is he so cute? “I’m sorry,” You say sincerely, still hugging the plush to your chest. “Please continue.”

His heart is beating out of his rib cage. He feels like he is going to die. He has never expressed his feelings so openly before and as much as he wants to say that he is uncomfortable, he's only half way there and he only needs to get the words out. He's been afraid of rejection for so long that, even deep down knowing the possibility of you loving him exists, he can’t help but worry about it. The words are on his tongue and at some point, he has to come out and say it.

“I… I love you.” Finally. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you. You don’t have to say or do anything, I just… I just wanted you to know.”

“You love me?” You had a big, stupid smile on your face, which made the question you had asked seem hopeful to him. If you had been home, you might have thought he was pulling a joke on you, not that he would know to assume that. And you, yourself are having a good time telling the small voice in the back of your head to fuck off because – yes, Giyuu Tomioka just confessed his love for you and you were not going to let the universe take it back.

He nodded, silent. The smallest, timid, smile pulled at his lips as he waited for you to continue. “Giyuu, I love you too. Actually, I..” you stopped before you started tripping over your words and let out a deep breath. Your grasp on the plush tightened, clutching it closer to your body in an attempt to ground yourself. “I… may have been in love with you for a while, too.”

He stares at you for a moment, another dumb look on his face. It's like the gears are turning in his mind. That yes, just like you had, are realizing this is all actually happening. And if he promptly pulls you into the softest, brain melting kiss you've ever had – that's between the two of you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᘡ ۫ 𖨂 𓈒 🦑 ۟ ៹ 𓂂

Of course, now it’s later and Giyuu is watching you show off the plush to the rest of the Hashira. You had grabbed his hand in a rush, so excited and happy. He let you tug him along, squeezing his hand so tight; never minding the clamminess. He watched as you shoved the crochet piece in Rengokus face, telling him with pride that Giyuu was the one that made it for you. ‘I see that,’ he says and lets out one of those joyous laughs, almost amused.

You tug him along, going from Hashira to Hashira. Giyuu vividly remembers you shouting at Shinazugawa from across the training grounds about ‘Look at what Giyuu made me! Suck it you fuck face’ before running off and taking him with you again. He remembers in the background the Wind Pillar shouting, something about how it was ‘Ugly as fuck’ and a few other things but Giyuu ignored it.

Others recognized the effort Giyuu put into it, much like Rengoku. He gets a ‘That's kinda flashy’ from Tengen, and surprisingly Shinobu didn’t really poke at him too much, but maybe that was because you were there. Mitsuri squeals about it. She thinks it’s the cutest thing she's ever seen, and Giyuu makes sure not to look at Obanai at all. Otherwise, the man might force Giyuu to teach him. Or force himself in between you and him to teach him, and Giyuu doesn’t know if he can handle that.

The afternoon passed by after that and you both ended up back at his estate, just like always. This time, you were much closer to him than usual, not that Giyuu minded. He watched from over your shoulder as you continued your own little crochet project. He had half a mind to join you, but instead opted to enjoy just being with you; resting his head near yours and wrapping his arms around your waist. Though, somewhere close by the little turtle and the plush were laying together where you had placed them. It was almost like they were watching you, like they were proud of him.

Thank you once again for reading!! ໒꒰ྀི ˃ ∩∩ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

[catcze]

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol

By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.

It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.

Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.

What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.

I miss you. I really, really miss you.

Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.

"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"

"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.

As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.

"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"

"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."

And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.

But he can't and it's killing him.

"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.

"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."

You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"

"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.

But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.

"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."

He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.

"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."

"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."

Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.

That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.

[noellefan101]

Too Scared to Let Go(To Lose You)

Characters; Lynette, Navia, Xiao, Scaramouche, Lyney, Kaeya, La Signora x gn Reader

Summary; they wont let go of you, no matter what. They can't protect you from harm when they aren't there, so they hold you close to ensure you're there. they've already lost so much.

Warnings; angst, maybe a little bit yandere,

Notes; i did the obvious like xiao, scara, signora and stuff but if i make a part two ill maybe put someone like barbara or nilou in, but that would just be them having intrusive thoughts... probably. will add diluc and venti there as well dont worry, love you

Lynette

She always thinks that you're going to die at some point, get kidnapped or just straight up leave, these thoughts come up once every week or so. But when your out and about or just working late, her thoughts run faster than ever. Of course she has lyney and the rest of the house, but she's just gotten so used to being with both lyney and you now that it doesnt quite feel the same. So her solution is often to hug you as tight as she can when sleeping, hoping you wont disappear in the morning.

And of course you try and help her as much as you possibly can, reassuring her that you wont leave and that youll find a way to get back to her no matter what happens when out and about, but that sometimes just doesnt cut it.

She doesnt cry often, but when she does its a lot, tears streaming down her face for an hour or two, and even longer if you, Lyney and Freminet aren't there with her.

Navia

She cant let go of you in the morning, it was always like that, but it had gotten so much worse after the loss of her two beloved bodyguards. She often mumbles in her sleep about you and how she wants you to stay. Something along the lines of:

“no… no, don’t go, stay… please!! Just stay with me!”

“please stay… stay with me… where did you go… no, come back, please…”’

“[name]… please stay with me… please… just stay…”

You have to wake her up when it seems like she’s panicking and try your best to comfort her, but sometimes she just doesn’t get any sleep because she wants to make sure you don’t disappear while she is asleep. She is of course the same shining Navia when around other people like the Traveler and Paimon, but everyone can see that she doesn’t want to let go of you at all, fearing you’ll vanish if you leave her line of sight for even just a second, its like you’re glued to her.

If people ever see you, they know for a fact that Navia is also there, no matter what. Oh, you want to go over and wish your friend a happy birthday, well she can carry a gift for them with her so you don’t have to. You wanted to cook something but is missing one singular ingredient, you can you go get it together, don’t worry she isn’t putting back anything for it (she totally is, and has multiple offers and such she should be taking a look at rn).

Xiao

He says he shouldn’t be near you all the time, but doesn’t let go when you make him give in to his desires. He’ll hurt you, and you know that, so why are you still here with him. Wait, no, he isn’t trying to make you go away, please don’t, ever. He just cares about you enough to not want you getting hurt because of his karmic debt, he loves you too much to let that happen. But the thought of you leaving him fills his mind more than the karmic debt at times, he dreads it, the fact that you’ll leave eventually, he doesn’t care if its by choice or fate, just don’t. please, please, please don’t leave, just stay with him, please.

He doesn’t want to let go, but feels he needs to, you tell him its fine yet he feels like it isn’t. it feels like he’s hurting you every second of being with you, yet he doesn’t try to let go, he doesn’t even give the thought a chance. you say you’re fine, yet he feels like you’re not. He

feels like hes hurting you, he’s hurting more because of it. But then why does it hurt more without you, why, oh why. What have you done to him, just what did you do that made him so addicted to you. Swear you’ll never leave him ever, and he will do the same, as long as you’re here with him he swears he wont hurt you, he’ll break the karma in half for you, he’ll do anything. Just don’t leave him, please don’t.

Scaramouche

Everyone would say he’s too cocky, confident, and mean. But that’s all because he doesn’t let them see the vulnerable side of him, the leftovers of Kunikusuhi, the side he only shows to you. He shows you they way he cries at the mere thought you could leave him one day, he sobs in your chest as you comfort him and let him focus and anything but the nightmares haunting his being. He wont ever be like that with anyone that isn’t you, he doesn’t give a shit about them they can do whatever, but you have to stay.

He doesn’t care about all the others as long as you don’t leave him too, he doesn’t care about anything other than you. So please, please don’t leave him, ever, he would watch the world burn over and over again as long as he has you.

If you ever told anyone that the 6th harbinger, scaramouche, cries at night just because you left to go get a glass of water, they would call you crazy, say he’s never cried in his life that you must have seen things. But you know its true, and he does too, even if he doesn’t like to admit it. He knows you wont go, you always say you wont, but he just cant let himself to believe you, not when he’s been lied to so many times. He worries too much about you and he knows that, but how could he not, he loves you, and will never let you leave him because you love him too, right?

Lyney

Although he may be the confident, charming and romantic magician Lyney everyday in public, when he finally lets go of the role at home he’s nowhere near that. He cries just because he wanted to see you and he finally did, he worries about not being able to save you someday. He’s a worrywart to say the least

If you were gone for too long, whether on a mission from father or anything else really, he would not be calm at all until you come back. he would only be rather calm after he got a letter from you or in one of his shows where he put too many layers of masks on to hide it. he wants to think that your ok, just as Lynette say you are, you're strong. but he still cant help but worry,and he ends up panicked and stressed, without sleep, too tired to think sbout anything else other than you. dont leave him, he wouldnt survive without you.

That's why you cant leave him. hell lose his mind, and destroy everything around him in the process. he cant let you leave, so please, please don't. his heart is already fragile, it beats only for you now, so don't leave. don't leave. don't... please... please don't, he cant handle that. so, please, don't leave him, ever. stay right here with him, forever.

Kaeya

He doesnt remember his birth parents, he hates them but a little bit, but mostly because they left him, he cant handle thinking about them. and it only made his pain worse when he lost the people he called his family once again, so he cant afford to lose anything else, not when he feels completely at home once again. you are his home now, his family, and his joy. so don't leave or he might lose his mind and start ruining himself from the inside and out.

He loves you, a lot, you're his reason to continue in life. so if he ever sees you leave he would cry, even if all you are doing is leaving his office after giving him his lunch, he would shed a tear at the sight. his heart is fragile ok? He can't bear to lose his life once again, not after his parents left, not after his adoptive family left too.

Don't go, stay, stay right here with him and everything will be fine. i will all be fine, you trust him after all, and he won't let anyone touch you, let alone hurt you. you're safe here with him, don't worry about them, worry about him. you've got him wrapped around your finger without even knowing, you could want a certain sweet from Inazuma and he'll get it as fast as possible. you can get anything you want, ok? The only condition is that you stay right here with him, and only him.

La Signora

She swore she wasn’t going to fall for anyone after her first lover died, so why did she fall for you, how did she fall for you. Honestly you don’t know and she doesn’t either, she doesn’t know how you were able to melt her ice cold heart back to normal, even if only around you and you only, if anyone else is around it freezes back quicker than lightning can strike. She thought she wasn’t able to love again after he died, but you proved her wrong, so you can’t leave too. She cant deal with the death of her lover once again, so don’t leave her, ever.

You hug her in the night as she cries a little, mad at you for leaving her in her dream, but still not mad at you, as her anger is mostly to the world for doing this to her. But don’t worry, she’ll fall asleep eventually as she always does, she does need her beauty sleep after all. But that doesn’t mean she’ll wake up and easily let go again or just get out of bed, she’s stubborn and want you all for herself a little longer. She makes you talk a little as you carefully brush her hair like she taught you to do, and she relaxes a bit when you tell her you love her while kissing her head.

As long as you promise you wont leave her, and keep that promise, she’ll love you forever, she cant bare to see you go out the door even if its just for groceries, someone else can do that don’t worry. Just come and relax with her in a bath, she can wash your hair and you can wash hers. She’ll take care of you like you take care of her, just don’t leave, please. If you ever left her alone for too long she would freak out, she does everything with you, baths, shopping, paperwork even, so she cant bear to be left alone for longer than 30 minutes or she’ll panic. So don’t leave her please, please, please don’t, she’ll even beg for you to not leave her, just stay here with her.

Thank u for reading this, i know this took a long time and I havent posted things these few like weeks I think but I may have writers block(idk why I say it like that) and this was made over like a few months actually heh, luv ya

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[simplyreveries]

I don't know if someone has already requested this, but can I request the first years with GN!Reader who always falls asleep in weird places like on a tree branch, in the closet, under the table, or in the middle of the field, etc.? So the boys have to carry them back to Ramshackle Dorm.

ace trappola

at first, he was confused and even shocked at your strange ability to feel comfortable enough to sleep practically anywhere but of course it turns into him snickering and laughing whenever he catches you. he'd nudge deuce and tell him you're doing it again. he seriously could've died laughing and had to hold it in when he saw riddles frustrated and confused expression when you were passed out asleep underneath a table after an unbirthday party.

it comes to a point where he doesn't seem fazed or concerned if you're missing from class or something- he'd probably shake his head playfully and think you're just off sleeping somewhere unusual. he'd go off to find you most of the time. doesn't know how to wake you up, he's a, (loving) ass but he likes to stack random things on you either until you wake up or it falls. he's gotten in trouble multiple times for which in class. he'll call you a "sleepyhead" and sometimes tries to fool you and tell you you've slept through the whole day-!

much to his surprise,,, during an instance where you're just too hazy and too tired to be fully there. he groans and resorts to helping you back to ramshackle having you lazily use him as some support when walking back together. he'd tease and tell you you're lazy- but ace has never left your side when it's getting late, and he needs to wake you up or help you get back to ramshackle with the help of deuce.

deuce spade

ok not going to lie he's a little concerned. he's literally wondering how you manage to remain perfectly fine and unharmed when you somehow fall asleep int he most inconvenient and even dangerous spots. he's usually nervous and has a look of worriedness for you. deuce literally never felt more confused and SCARED when you fell asleep once inside the alchemy room... it's just waiting for disaster with mishaps in there.

deuce felt unsure if he should wake you up half of the time and when he does try it's too light of shaking or too quiet of talking to do anything. around that time ace or grim try suggesting splashing water on your face. he'd immediately figure out how to wake you up as soon as they mention that.

the time when he visited ramshackle and found you curled up in front of the steps asleep (doesnt matter how many times he's used to this he still is freaked out a bit akjshjhksk) he'll probably end up asking the ghosts for help in getting you back inside... it's almost dark too! he worries at the thought if he hadn't come over. doesn't really scold you but nervously does try to remind you to be more careful-! the last thing he wants is for you to end up getting hurt yourself because of this unique quirk of yours.

jack howl

the first time he witnessed this was an... experience, he was in the middle of track, and you were just sprawled out laying in the grass in a sunny spot. at first, he thought you were resting maybe... not actually fully asleep. he kinda just stares and tries to figure out in his head only for grim to tell him "...ya this is normal for them".

jack gets concerned like deuce and genuinely doesn't know what to do. he wants to help you but not abruptly wake you up. so, in other times where he finds you doing it again and again- he gets kind of used to it by now and doesn't seem to question it. he silently does make sure you're fine. like that one time you were peacefully asleep on a bleacher, and he quickly had to catch and stop you before you quite literally ROLLED off. you have this poor guy sweating.

though, in another time when its getting late and knows you should be back at ramshackle, he huffs and prompts to bringing you back there himself - a little annoyed by grim's snicker and climbing onto his shoulder but he does seem to make sure to look out for you. jack just prays you don't wake up, so you won't have something to tease him about later on...

epel felmier

epel silently stared for a few seconds in shock, letting himself slip cursing slightly in confusion. he regains his composure and doesn't bother waking you up if you seem- alright? he seemed to tell ace and deuce about it and they were already used to this, ace only laughed.

he panicked slightly as he found you sleeping on the floor in pomefiore once- vil would not be impressed or happy to see that and give you and probably him some small lecture. or when he found you sleeping on the steps inside the school?? does your back not feel pain?? those are times he'd actually try to wake you up, even if it took him a few attempts.

he does take it upon himself to help you get back to ramshackle, when you're not too far from it yet still managed to fall asleep right by the gate. he found grim complaining and trying to wake you up, with no luck with his paws. like ace would, grim would have you lean on him groggy and tried and he'd help bring you to ramshackle, sighing but he started to even laugh at the whole ridiculousness of it all when he's telling you to be more careful outside.

sebek zigvolt

initially, he didn't even notice you fall asleep as he loudly going on about something. he was a little shocked at first but quickly didn't hesitate to wake you up, claiming with his booming voice that it was improper at school and dangerous...! "and i thought silvers sleeping habits were terrible...!"

he is a knight (in training) and is keen with good senses and quick reactions- so like with jack, if you're literally about to fall or roll in your sleep when your off asleep in some crazy spot he'll swiftly move and stop you. grumbling how unusual it is. and he would never admit it, but you did once startle him when he found you sleeping in a tucked area, he literally reached for his magic pen. would die if you found out and deny it profusely.

it doesn't matter with all the scolding... sebek does help you. and like all the other times wouldn't dare to admit it and his slight soft spot for you. after a few failed attempts at waking, you he'd make sure you get to ramshackle himself, which is no sweat for someone like him. he couldn't believe you were sleeping outside for so long it was starting to rain!

[macsimagines]

Izana, Kisaki + Mikey finding their girlfriend sleeping in one of their shirts, like willingly? 🧡

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR, NEGLECT, MENTION OF KIDNAPPING

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa

It started off with him kind of... not letting you leave his place. You came over for a late night booty call, and instead of demanding you get out of his face he wouldn't let you go that night.

Come the next morning and you wake up before him and you decide to dip before he can wake up and tell you to fuck off. Izana has never been overtly affectionate with you and you don't want to push him too far afterall.

But then you get a call later that day and he sounds...off.

"Hello-," "Just where the fuck are you, Y/N?" "O-oh? I woke up and left?" You tell him and you're so caught off guard by the slight annoyance in his voice what could you have done wrong?

"Why?"

And that throws you completely off. "Wasn't I supposed to?"

He doesn't answer. Just hangs up and you're left wondering what the hell happened, but you just shrug it off as maybe him not liking that one of his possessions left without permission...

The next time you two hookup, its the same thing. He's not trying to let you leave, and so you sleep over naked and just plan on wearing the same clothes you came in tomorrow. Except...

"I want you here when I get back, Y/N." He tells you before he leaves the next morning. And for whatever reason that look in his eyes means not to test him so you just sit around and wait for him all day.

But your clothes are kind of uncomfortable and its getting so laaaate. Izana wouldn't mind you borrowing one of his shirts right?

He really doesn't come back until 1am, and he's very happy you listened like a good girl, and even happier to see you dressed in one of his shirts while you sleep.

Izana thinks that he probably won't have to get your clothes from your old place. You could just use his. Ya. That'll be fine. Its his gift to you, for finally moving in with him where you belong.

Yandere!Kisaki Tetta

You're a true fucking brat. No really, you've somehow become the single biggest pain in the ass he's ever had to deal with. You throw out everything he buys you, you scream and demand your freedom at every turn, you're constantly trying to escape him...

But he loves you, really and truly adores you, and you're not going anywhere now that he's got you locked in his penthouse. He won't make the same mistake, he's going to keep this one alive. You'll just have to learn to love him.

Oh but your latest tantrum has him rethinking it all. You set fire to the apartment, burning all the clothes he bought you in the bathtub and almost getting the cops called.

But he was smart, smoothed over the situation and had you sedated before you could throw an even bigger fit. Honestly, some small part of him doesn't think you're worth the trouble but he comes home the next day and those thoughts are all dashed.

You're laying in one of his silk shirts, bundled into the sheets so sweetly he thinks he can feel his heart actually ache at the sight of you.

You're so precious, and perfect to him. "That was expensive," he'll try to say dismissively, he doesn't want you to think he's forgiven you for your little fit just yet, "I burned all the other ugly stuff you got me. At least your clothes are comfortable." "..."

He won't say anything after that, but he does make a mental note that perhaps the Gucci and the Balenciaga are probably not to your tastes. He should just get you things in the same style as him. Couples matching outfits could be nice.

Yandere!Manjiro Sano

Douchebag does not let you wear clothes he does not approve of. You belong to him and every aspect of your life belongs to him too, even what you wear.

And sometimes it's fine. Sometimes he's not around and you don't have to wear the skimpy dresses and designer shoes that hurt, sometimes you get to be comfortable and just chill out in your pajamas.

But you got too comfortable. He'd been gone for weeks again, because Micky comes and goes as he pleases, so you thought your usual fits would be fine.

Then he returns and for some reason he's pissed. It could be because the cops are on his ass, something didn't go his way or maybe his underlings were pissing him off, but for whatever reason for his rage he's decided he's going to take it out on you.

"What, Y/N? All the money I spend on nice clothes not good enough? You don't like the pretty thing I buy you?" "M-Mikey please-," "Too fuckin' good for the shit I give you?"

You're stripped bare and naked. For days. If you won't wear what he so graciously and lovingly gives you then you don't get to wear anything. And you're just shivering cold for a week straight trying to curl in yourself for any kind of warmth and comfort.

But after seven days of this hell you can't take it anymore. He doesn't even let you have sheets or blankets in your room anymore how the hell are you supposed to survive.

Thankfully, you find one of his discarded sweaters near the bed you two share and through it on without a second thought. You're nauseated because it still smells like him, but you can't bring yourself to take it off and be cold again.

You just snuggle into the fabric and finally find enough warmth and comfort to sleep that night. When Mikey comes home and sees you he realizes he's no longer angry. In fact, he's more than pleased.

"You just wanted to wear my clothes this whole time? That's fine. We'll share a wardrobe."

[leonw4nter]

maybe like a lil drabble (or whatever you’d like to do) where instead of hunnigan working with leon, it’s the reader. and they be all flirty and cute and kinda like 👉👈

tbh it can work for anything post-re2r, even if its still before re4r. you can do how he acts around you in different eras (if you want to at all, or just choose an era)

sooo whatever you have most inspo with! thank youu

RE4R!Leon x FOSAgent!F!Reader drabble

After Ashley and Luis had gone to sleep in the small ramshackle shed Leon had managed to locate for the night, he sat by the entrance of their temporary shelter and turned on his comms, waiting for his radio to pick up a stable wavelength to relay information back to HQ. The dingy little thing still wouldn’t pick up a frequency, which the blond didn’t wonder about since he’s been thrown around one too many times, the walkie-talkie probably also got a small beating along with the impact his body took. After giving a small pat to the black box in his hands, he finally managed to hear the static of his handler’s voice.

“Condor One to Roost, baby Eagle is currently taking shelter in this… dilapidated hut,” he sternly reports. “Along with Sera. Luis Sera.”

A moment of silence fills the air, accompanying the gentle pitter patter of the rain on the thickening mud before you respond to his reports.

“Hmm… aerial imaging tells me you’re near a lake, am I right? Can hear the rain from here,” you say.

“Yeah. We’re not too far from a lake,” he responds. “Guess we got eyes in the sky too, huh.”

He hears a faint little breath coming from you, probably a soft scoff. He smiles to himself, the first time in a long time before he brings his wrist near to his face.

“What time is it back home?” he asks.

“1300.”

“You should probably get some rest, baby. Don’t worry about me, I’m making sure we all get out of here in one piece.”

“I want to but I can’t bring myself to,” he hears you softly respond. “I can’t risk losing you, you know. I gotta keep guard on comms 24/7 even though I know you’re great at your job.”

Leon’s heart squeezes a little bit; he knows how important rest is to someone, which is ironic considering how he hasn’t had proper rest in over 96 hours and is desperately craving a good, lengthy sleep though he doesn’t mind if it means keeping Ashley and the flirty Spaniard safe and sound. He won’t mind, most of all, if it meant keeping in touch with you.

“And besides, I have reports to send to Graham– location updates, aerial view images, all that jazz. I have many things to work on,” you say before he hears you yawn quietly. “It’s not like I can just stop doing these because I’m tired; at the end of the day, the president is a father who wants to know how his daughter is doing all the way on the other side of the world. He’s worried sick.”

“And at the end of the day, I’m just your boyfriend who wants to make sure my girlfriend is still taking care of herself despite all her workload,” Leon responds. “I know baby, I know but still take some time to rest– even for a little bit.”

A soft sigh can be heard from your end.

“Fine. But aren’t you supposed to be resting too? Don’t see any threats within a 3-mile radius, you’re good.”

“Nah. Gotta keep watch, can’t be too vigilant. You’ll be the one resting for both of us tonight,” he says.

“Leon.”

“I’ll get rest later, honey. I promise,” Leon pleads.

Another sigh. Gosh, Leon hates how you’ve been sighing a lot more lately, which meant that a lot was weighing on your mind.

“Promise me that. Or I’ll personally fly there to beat your ass.”

“I’d rather you beat something else of mine instead,” Leon jokes.

“I’ll remind you, agent Kennedy, that we’re still on government-operated frequencies so I highly recommend communicating in a professional manner.”

“Ma’am yes ma’am agent Kestrel, the absolute love of my life.”

“I’m going to go on the break you’ve been forcing me to have instead.”

Leon chuckles to himself, a small puff of air leaving his cracked and pale lips.

“Okay, okay. Good night, baby. I’ll talk to you 4 hours from now.”

“Good night, hon. I… I miss you and… please stay safe,” you sincerely whisper to him, unable to switch off the frequency connecting you to him.

“Me too. I miss you. I love you,” he says before turning the radio off and placing it back in one of the many fancy pockets he had.

He props one leg up while he sits, resting his forearm on his knee as he looks out into the dark and foggy scenery. The rain would be nice if he was back home with his girlfriend, cuddling and joking in the bed of their shared apartment instead of this miserable hellhole infested with mutants and murder-crazed cult fanatics. As much as he wanted to bring along a locket or a small picture of you he couldn’t, out of making sure that there would be no traces of foreigners that the crazy locals could use to somehow involve all of America into this. A faint creak of the rickety wooden floorboards has the hairs on the back of his head standing, his hands flying to the sleek silver pistol on his holster to point it at the source of the noise, only for the source of the noise to be the nosy Spaniard who was unfortunately very much wide awake and conscious throughout the conversation he had.

“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” was all the man said after raising his arms up as the agent pointed his gun at him.

Leon put his gun back down, the usual smoulder and frown taking its place back into his haggard features as he sat back down and stared out into nothingness again.

“Didn’t peg you as the type to call a lady ‘baby’ or ‘honey’,” he teases. He walks up to Leon, taking a spot beside him and placing a cigarette to his lips before lighting the end of it with his lighter.

“‘You should probably get some rest, baby’,” Luis repeats with a sly smirk as he shoots Leon a curious look.

Leon simply gives him a death glare, squinting his eyes before turning his attention back to somewhere that isn’t irritating or getting on his last nerve.

“That’s not what it was.” It was what it was.

“Mhm, Sancho.”

“You be thankful she hasn’t ratted your ass out to the president yet,” he hisses.

“Good point there,” Luis sneers. “No… no anything then?”, to which Leon responds with silence.

“Then… perhaps she’d like to go out for a jive, a little dance of bachata with me,” the Spaniard presses with a shit-eating grin. “Since you two don’t seem to be anything.”

“Back off from my girlfriend,” Leon blurted as he froze the man in front of him with his steel blue gaze.

Luis puts out his cigarette, chucking it somewhere and gets up as he walks back to where he ‘slept’ moments ago.

“Okay, sancho. I can clearly see that you’re hers,” he comments. “I guess only you have the pass to call her ‘the absolute love of your life’. Buenas noches, amigo.”

With a wink, he lays back down on the floor and turns to his side to fall asleep.

NOTES - It feels great to finally get back to posting again!!! It's been quite some time and since I'm finally finished with the third quarter and my tests, I'll be more active with posting fics :)) Requests have been marinating in my inbox and I know ppl have been waiting for quite some time so here's the request, more otw!!!! I'm also eepy rn so I'm going to go to bed after I post this <3 Neways, thanks for reading my works and I <3333 UUUU!!!!!! HAVE A GREAT DAY WHEREVER YOU ARE <3

[the-karma-cafe]

Thursdays | Arthur Morgan

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which the boys are curious where arthur runs off to every thursday night (ITS FOR SEX)

song is Moonshadow by Cat Stevens ! spoiler they be fucking :/ i be making them fuck for real (oh no aaaa no arthur dont have sex with me no aaa that would be terrible i would hate that)

Javier’s eyes track Arthur as he slinks away from the campfire, tuning out Sean’s boisterous storytelling. He knows the gunslinger is readying his horse to leave. He also knows he’ll be gone for a couple of hours, returning around one or two in the morning to slump into his bed after everyone has gone to sleep.

How does Javier know?

Surprisingly, Arthur is a creature of strict routine, and he does this song and dance every Thursday night—without fail. 

Javier furrows his brow, unable to quash his curiosity this time. What on Earth could he be going off to do so regularly? He never came back with meat, so he wasn’t hunting. He couldn’t be off robbing, because when he got back, he didn’t drop anything off at the contribution box. Oh, Javier, maybe he was planning to do so later on? Ah, ah, ah! What do we know about Arthur? Ever the routine-man, he donates to the camp box the second he enters camp, no matter what he just got back from. It’s always the first thing he does. Can’t be shoppin’, ‘cause it’s too late for that. Can’t be killin’, ‘cause he comes back clean. 

A cuff round his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. “Javier! Didja hear me?” Sean said, drink emboldening his speech (not that the Irishman needed much encouragement). 

Javier ignored him, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Arthur was on his horse, trotting away from camp, everyone else none-the-wiser.

“Hullloooo??” Sean needled, pushing his side into Javier’s. 

Javier looked over to Lenny and Charles sitting across the campfire from them, and felt a spark of inspiration ignite within him. He leaned forward, beckoning them closer with his hand. They looked confused, but crossed the clearing anyway, kneeling in front of his and Sean’s log. 

“What is it?” Lenny prompted, his voice hushed. He could always trust Lenny to be discreet.

“Yeah!” Sean added, much louder. ...He could’ve guessed. 

He lowered his voice, smirking conspiratorially. “Where’d Arthur go?”

Sean and Lenny frowned, caught off-guard by the question, but Charles inclined his head in understanding. “I didn’t think anyone else noticed.”

“Noticed what??” Sean whined, leaning in closer to Charles. “Don’t be keepin’ secrets, now!”

Charles rolled his eyes, waving his hand to shush Sean. He nodded his head to Javier. “Arthur’s been leaving every Thursday night.”

Sean scrunched his nose. “So what? Art’ur leaves all the time!” Lenny nodded along.

Javier shook his head. “But Thursdays are different. He leaves around 10PM, comes back around 1AM. Why the same amount of time?”

Sean was quiet for a moment (if one could believe it), before jumping up from the log, his beer bottle sloshing in his hand. “Let’s go find out!!” he whispered loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

Javier couldn’t help but mirror his expression. He was hoping he wasn’t the only one this curious about it. He felt a thrum of excitement run through him. He pushed up from the log, Lenny readying to follow him.

“Guys,” Charles interrupted, stopping their walk to the horses. “Arthur’s entitled to his privacy. We should let him have this—whatever it is.” 

He should’ve expected this from ever-noble Charles. Sean began to argue, but Javier cut him off, knowing he wouldn’t win against Charles. “It’s probably nothing.” he retorted, trying not to feel guilty under the other man’s pointed stare. He turned away, making for the horses anyway. “I’m going. You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t miss this fer the world!” Sean laughed, immediately tagging along. Javier fought the triumphant grin pulling at his lips. He heard Lenny awkwardly shuffle behind them, some whispered apology to Charles.

He mounted his horse, waiting impatiently for Sean to struggle onto his own. His eyes searched the growth around the camp, hoping to find an indication of where Arthur ran off to. He could track, but Charles was the expert. It would make things much easier to have him with them…

The man in question’s voice came behind him. “I’m only tagging along to make sure you don’t ruin whatever Arthur has going on.” He turned to see Charles mounting Taima, disapproval marring his proud features. 

Javier grinned in spite of it. “Excellent! Vámonos!” he cheered, leading the search brigade with Charles by his side, the other man’s trained eye focused on the ground. Lenny followed behind them with Sean drunkenly pulling up the rear. Charles looked as though he wanted to stop him from coming, but seemed to decide against it, knowing the stubborn man wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

Charles followed Arthur’s trail down the left path from camp, past the trees, past the tracks, until they arrived in Valentine. Javier felt giddy. 

Charles stopped them in front of the saloon, hopping off his horse to hitch her, the rest of them quickly following suit.

“The saloon?” Sean whispered, creeping up the steps to peer through the building’s windows. Lenny followed behind him, and the two poked their noses over the ledge of the window, trying to sneak a glance within. Charles walked over to join them, and would have looked less suspicious if not for the two idiots in front of him crouched like children. 

Javier approached the window opposite them, casually leaning to the side of it to look in. Not that his subtlety helped him, as again, he was across from three grown men cartoonishly trying to peek inside as well. 

He spied a couple of men that looked like Arthur before finally seeing actual Arthur at the bar. He wasn’t hunched over it, like some of the other patrons were, and instead was looking around at the other people in the saloon, as if searching for someone. What could that be about? He wondered.

Before he could think on it further, Sean strolled into the saloon, Lenny in tow. Charles shared a knowing glance with him before following them in. 

Sean beelined for Arthur, and soon they all surrounded him, clapping him on the back.

“You’d go to the saloon without inviting yer favorite drinking buddy?” Sean accused, roughly pushing at the man’s shoulder. 

“My favorite drinking buddy, huh?” Arthur echoed, his voice not reflecting what Javier knew to be embarrassment on his face. Arthur slumped over the bar, tugging the front of his hat further over his face. 

Sean gasped. “Drinkin’ with me’s a treat! Ye should be so lucky!”

Javier nudged him from his other side. “We were wondering where you headed off to all the time. Had we known it was just the saloon we would not have bothered!” he laughed, waving the bartender over. He would buy him a drink to apologize.

“You too, Charles?” Arthur asked, sounding betrayed. 

Charles sighed, apologizing. “I was trying to get them to leave you alone, Arthur.” Javier couldn’t help but think the man didn’t put up too much of a fight. 

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat. “‘F that’s all, you can all head on back to camp, I’ll be back soon.”

Sean scoffed. “Why d’you want to be rid of us so-”

A guitar strum floated over from the back of the saloon, and he trailed off. Arthur buried his head in his arms, the tips of his ears red. Javier cocked a brow, looking over.

“Miss me, y’all?” a pretty woman at the back of the room called out, guitar in hand. A couple of cheers and whoops came from the crowd, the saloon filled with noise.

The boys grinned knowingly. 

“Not. A goddamn. Word.” Arthur groaned, his voice muffled by his arms. 

Sean barked a laugh, clapping the man on the back. “Ohoho, ye rascal, we shoulda known ye’d try ta keep this beauty ta yerself!” He wolf-whistled towards the performer.

Javier grinned toothily, leaning in to tease Arthur. “You could have told us you were only leaving to see about a girl, Arthur.”

Arthur pushed up from his slump, nursing his whiskey miserably. “Like you would’ve let me hear the end of it.” He grumbled. Javier pushed his extra drink over to the man, giggling like a teenager. Arthur the Stoic, red-faced and shy about a singer. He never thought he’d see the day!

The woman, having finished her introductions while they teased Arthur, began to sing. Javier watched Arthur turn himself slightly to watch her.

Yes, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Arthur couldn’t help the dreamy smile that twisted his mouth, watching her. She looked so content, fully in her element up there on Valentine’s tiny lifted stage. The piano man to her right had abandoned his duties to drink at the nearest table.

And if I ever lose my hands

Lose my plow, lose my land

Oh, if I ever lose my hands

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to work no more

Her southern accent colored the lyrics, guiding the notes up and down as she pleased. The patrons knew this song, and sang along with her every now and then, but none followed the exact way she sang it, allowing him to easily follow her voice amidst the noise.

And if I ever lose my eyes

If my colors all run dry

Yes, if I ever lose my eyes

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to cry no more

Sean stumbled into the fray, caught in some dance with a couple of other patrons, breaking his trance. Arthur dragged a hand over his face, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt. 

Yes, I’m bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Most nights, he would allow himself to indulge in the fantasy. Convince himself she was singin’ for him, that when they locked eyes across the saloon, she had the same look in hers as he did. 

And if I ever lose my legs

I won't moan, and I won't beg

Oh, if I ever lose my legs

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to walk no more

He downed his drink and reached for Javier’s—anything to give him an excuse for the way he was lookin’ at her. Having them with him just dragged him back to reality: he was just another face in the crowd to her, and even if he did catch her eye, she would just think him old and sour-faced, and leave it at that. 

And if I ever lose my mouth

All my teeth, north and south

Yes, if I ever lose my mouth

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to talk no more

He took another deep drink, feeling that familiar haze begin to set in on the edge of his vision. 

Did it take long to find me?

I asked the faithful light

Oh, did it take long to find me?

And are you gonna stay the night?

This would be the last time he let himself come here on a Thursday night. He was just torturin’ himself, thinkin’ of things that would never be. Head in the clouds, like Micah would say. Christ, he was glad they didn’t think to bring him along.

I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

The drink crept into his heart. If this was his last night here, with her, he might as well fool himself one last time, the drink said. What’s the harm? One last time can’t hurt. It wheedled, and he knew he’d be miserable come morning.

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

He leaned to his right, seeking Javier’s weight to nudge him for another drink (least he could do for ruinin’ his fun), but felt only air. He frowned, glancing around for the others. Sean had dragged Lenny into his drunken dance, Javier was speaking with some well-endowed woman in the corner (who seemed very pleased to have his attention), and Charles… his frown deepened, squinting at the blurry crowd. He couldn’t see Charles. Knowing the women of Valentine, he was likely cornered somewhere, politely refusing their services (although for a man like Charles, perhaps it was free).

Arthur grunted, turning back to his empty glass. Figures that his friends would quickly find company at a place he frequented, and he was left miserable and alone. He plucked his hat off his head, raking his other hand through his hair. He was sure he looked a mess—no wonder he was by himself. 

“Hey, cowboy.” a voice came from his right, startling him from his wallowing. He turned, and felt his heart jump to see his singer leaning against the bar next to him. 

Her eyes were bright, her face flushed. She seemed out of breath from her performance, but pleased, satisfied with how she had done. 

He gaped like a fish. Say somethin’, goddammit!  

She smiled, shifting her eyes to his glass. She pointed at it lazily. “Be a doll and get me what you’re havin’?”

He nodded dumbly, gesturing wordlessly at the bartender. Seconds later, a replica of his drink sat in front of her. She thanked him and brought the glass to her lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, eyes trained on the way her lips parted, the amber liquid gliding into her mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

She set the glass back down, giving him a teasing smile. “You mute?”

He shook his head—then inwardly smacked himself for yet another wordless response. “No.” Christ, you can do better than that.

She giggled, and he thought he might die. “What a scintillating conversationalist you are, Mister…” she trailed off, tilting her head. 

“Morgan.” he provided. His mind caught up to the conversation fast enough to ask for her name in turn (he deserved a pat on the back for being so quick-witted). She gave it, and he almost sighed aloud. She had a name she introduced herself with to the crowds, but he suspected it was a stage name, and he had been correct. Her real name was a privilege to finally learn. 

He repeated it back to her, experimentally rolling it on his tongue. She grinned. “Sounds nice when you say it, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Arthur,” he corrected. “‘S just Arthur. For you.” He coughed, turning to order another drink, just to have something, anything , to distract him from the weight of her gaze on him. “I mean, if you want. Morgan’s fine too.”

“Arthur,” she purred. He felt faint. “I like that more.” His next drink arrived and he immediately buried his face in it, unable to meet her eyes. Christ, he was like a teenager. He inwardly scolded himself.

She carried on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I see you here a lot, Arthur.” she gestured over her shoulder to the crowd. “First time I seen you bring friends, though.”

So she had seen him in the crowd all those times? He squashed the thought before it ruined him. He laughed, shaking his head. “Bastards invited themselves.” He chanced a glance at her, her attention on the crowd instead of him. He eyed her drink, already half-empty in her hand, before looking up, up, to the curve of her chest, the proud slope of her neck, the strands of hair falling loose from her updo, her lips, her nose, her eyes… he forced himself to look at the crowd instead. “Don’t you have some adorin’ fans to go talk to?”

She turned her head to look at him, but he kept his eyes focused ahead. “I thought I was already doin’ that.” she sidled closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his arm. Warmth radiated off of her. “Unless you’re not one of my adoring fans.”

Arthur felt heat creep up his neck and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she echoed, amusement coloring her voice. “I don’t think you’ve missed a single one of my performances, Arthur Morgan.” he felt a shiver run up his spine. “If anyone’s a fan, it’s you.”

He pulled the lip of his hat down over his eyes. “Maybe.” Guilty as charged.

She laughed, and rounded to his front. She flicked up the front of his hat, and his eyes met hers. He stilled, entranced. There seemed to be a glow about her, some hazy halo enveloping her body. How much had he had?  

“You won’t admit it?” What had they been talking about again? He tried not to focus on their difference in height, how easy it would be to scoop her up, his hands so large on her hips… 

“Well?” He flexed his hands, trying to reign himself in. Her face was expectant: eyebrows raised, pretty lips pursed. 

He shook his head. Couldn’t this woman see he couldn’t think straight? 

Apparently that counted as an answer and she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “You embarrassed?”

Yes. Why did she think he was, again? He sighed. “I’m sorry, miss,” he tried her name again, wanting to say it over and over. “I believe I am too drunk for this conversation.”

She grinned in understanding. “Why don’t we talk someplace quieter, make things easier on your poor head, hm?” 

Someplace quieter? His mind echoed, while his body nodded dumbly, stumbling behind her. She took his hand in her own, leading him up the stairs. His eyes were trained intently on their hands, her hand small, warm, in his, her fingertips roughened from guitar strings. 

What was she doin’, touchin’ a man like him? He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, as much as he knew he should. It felt nice, to indulge. The hazy shroud around his vision encroached further inwards, tunneling his view.  

“Here,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear. She pushed open a door, leading him inside and shutting it behind them. It was suddenly much quieter. He breathed a sigh of relief, some tension leaving his set shoulders.

“Nicer up here, isn’t it?” she prompted, releasing his hand. He ached at the loss. He dragged his gaze up to watch her dance over to the… bed. He gulped, valiantly fighting off the thoughts that sprang up at the sight of her. 

“Mhm.” He didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood awkwardly where she had left him, staring dumbly at her. What the hell was she thinkin’, bringin’ a man like him up here, alone with her? She could get herself hurt, or worse. He frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I shouldn’ be up here with you.” He shook his head, forcing himself to look at the ground. “Ain’t right. You shouldn’ trust me.” his words slurred, but he hoped she was taking him seriously despite it. 

“Why not?”

He groaned. God, her voice. He buried his head in his hands. “I ain’t. A nice man, miss,” he spoke her name again, and god, hoped she couldn’t hear how he loved to say it.

He felt her hand on his arm. When had she gotten up? She was so warm. He lowered his hands, chancing a look into her eyes, hoping he was strong enough to resist their pull. 

Christ, of course he couldn’t. She looked up at him through her lashes, stepping closer, their bodies almost touching. He breathed in, unable to bring himself to look away this time. She smelled like the alcohol everything smelled like in the saloon, but a sweet undertone ran beneath it. He was reminded of the saccharine scent of canned peaches. 

Her hand smoothed down his arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together. Her other reached up, up, and palmed his cheek, her touch gentle like she was approaching some wild horse. He leaned into it before he could stop himself, his stubble scratching against her skin. 

“How ‘bout,” she started, her voice soft and quiet, “I decide that for myself?”

His eyelids felt heavy, and he felt himself forgetting what she was even responding to. His free hand began to move of its own accord, bumping into her thigh, smoothing up to her hip. He looked down. Just like he had imagined… 

She moved, and his gaze shifted to her face, slowly nearing his. His breath hitched. This was some sweet dream. He would awaken in his tent, frustrated and wanting, would take himself in his hand and relieve himself to the sight of her like this in his mind’s eye. He would wait until next Thursday and slink back to the bar, eager for more. Her lips touched his and he sighed into her mouth, whiskey on his breath. He would stay asleep forever, if he could, lips pushing against hers, nipping at her soft skin, tonguing past it. 

She parted from him, gently, as if to not scare him off. He breathed heavily, eyes lidded, vision tunneled onto her mouth. She started to speak, but he cut her off, pushing hungrily into her, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. He had waited so long, so long. He would take it, even if it wasn’t real. 

She gasped into his mouth and he almost moaned at the sensation. God, what a privilege to finally have her all to himself. To have her in front of him, touching him, kissing him, instead of with her crowd, Arthur by himself at the other end.

Her knees buckled, falling back onto the bed. He huffed, breaking from her. He thrust his hands beneath her thighs, hearing her squeak in surprise. “Easy, girl.” he muttered under his breath, picking her up and tossing her into the pillows at the head of the bed, following soon after. 

He climbed onto the bed above her, and stilled, looking down at her. Her hair had spilled out of its updo, hair piece having been discarded… at some point, perhaps before they had even entered the room? His memory felt hazy. She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parted, chest heaving. His eyes softened. “Yer beautiful, miss,” he whispered her name. 

Her cheeks flushed prettily. “Thank you, Arthur.” she breathed. She tilted her head up slightly, her eyes slipping down to his lips. 

He reached out, taking a piece of her hair between his fingers, twisting it around. It was soft. Of course it was. It was devastating how perfect she was. “I liked your song, earlier.” he mumbled, focused on her hair. 

“I… I’m glad.” she whispered, her hand winding up his arm, to his neck, to his head, to take off his hat. She placed it down somewhere, and her hand soon wound its way into his hair, her short nails scraping at the back of his head. His eyes slipped closed, humming at the sensation. “I was hoping you would be here, tonight.”

He blinked open his eyes just enough to see her face. “What?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

She averted her gaze, blush deepening. “Been lookin’ forward to seein’ you at my performances.”

He scoffed. Now he knew this was a dream. “Uh huh.” He leaned in, burying his nose in her neck. “You don’t gotta lie t’me.” He turned, placing open-mouthed kisses along any skin he could find. Her breath hitched in his ear. 

“I-I’m not.” she insisted. He hummed, laving across a section of skin before taking it between his teeth, sucking slightly. She held her breath for a second, forcing out her next words. “I been… been dreadin’ the day you stop showin’ up,” she breathed out, “and I’d have missed my chance.” 

He parted from her, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. They were lidded, but earnest. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I counted at least ten other men better-lookin’ and closer in age t’you. Yer tellin’ me not one o’ them caught yer eye?” 

“‘S that really so hard to believe?” she palmed his cheek again, stroking it with her thumb. 

“Yes.” he laughed dryly, but leaned into her hand all the same. 

She brought up her other hand, cupping his face. “Look how sweet you are, baby.” she cooed, bringing his face closer to nuzzle her nose against his. “What a cutie-pie!” she teased.

His eyes softened, tracing the features of her face. He wished he could pause time, sketch her in his journal. He’d just have to memorize how she looked, and try his best to replicate it later. Once he woke up, of course. From this dream.

She connected their lips and he groaned, not expecting the sudden contact again. Her hands moved from his face to wrap around his neck and scratch at his shoulders. It felt like she was sucking him in, how truly he could not pull away. 

He rubbed his hand up her thigh, pushing up her long skirt. Her skin was smooth under his rough hand, moving up to grab at the soft flesh of her ass, squeezing and pulling her up towards him. She arched slightly, and he grabbed his other hand behind her waist to pull her closer, closer still. 

Her breasts brushed against his chest, her nipples stiffening through the thin fabric. He nudged her head to the side with his nose, moving to kiss down her neck. She sighed in his ear, her hands busying themselves with his arms and shoulders. Drink made him sloppy in his movements, his tongue wetting her neck and chest as he made his way down to her breasts. He didn’t bother to tug the fabric down, instead mouthing over her nipple through the fabric, flattening and swirling his tongue into the mound. 

She whimpered, her hand moving up to tug at the hair on the back of his head, her other moving down to tug her shirt down under her tits. He parted from her while she did so, unable to help the smirk twisting his mouth at her desperation. 

“You like that, doll?” he muttered, taking in the sight of her bare breasts, her shirt bunched up underneath them. 

She stuttered out a response, arching up towards his mouth. Seeing her like this sent a surge of confidence through him. She was his. No one else downstairs got to see her like this. Just him. Only him. He brushed his lips against her nipple, watching her try to push into his mouth. 

He smiled against her, and she whined, tugging his hair. “Don’t tease me, Arthur.” she breathed. Fuck. He took it into his mouth, his hand encircling the other, twisting and toying with it. He would give her anything she wanted if it meant she would say his name like that again. 

He dragged his mouth down, not missing the soft moan she gave at the loss, cool air ghosting over her wet nipple. He kissed down her stomach, moving his hands down underneath her thighs, pushing them up, up. 

He bunched her skirt around her, and pulled back. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He looked up at her. 

Her face was reddened with embarrassment, her hands covering her cheeks. 

“Care to explain this?” he teased, running his hands down her thighs, closer, closer. 

She bit her lip. “I…” she looked away. 

He tilted his head, indicating he was waiting. 

“I… did say I was hopin’ to see you tonight, didn’t I?” she laughed breathily. 

His chest rumbled in approval, looking down at her exposed cunt, already wet without him touching it. “All this…” he drawled, glancing up at her, “for me?” 

She nodded, hiding slightly behind her hands. 

“Too kind to me, sweetheart,” he lowered himself, breathing her in. He kissed her thigh, feeling her twitch. “You shouldn’t have…” his breath ghosted between her legs, and she shuddered, anticipation building. He placed a few more open-mouthed kisses inside her thighs, feeling her arch into him, growing desperate. He took pity. 

Gripping her soft thighs in his hands, he licked one long stripe up her slit, gathering her wetness onto his tongue. She gasped, tightening her legs. He forced them open, holding them up. “Be good, princess, or I won’t be good to you.” he admonished, kissing her thigh. 

She shuddered. “Shit, yes, sorry yes, please, I’ll be good, please,” she breathed, trying to wiggle closer to his mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praised, flattening his tongue against her clit, lapping at it softly. She cursed, her hands fisting the bedding. He laved up her slit, once, twice, three times, before closing his lips around her bud, lightly sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, Arthur,” she gasped, and he groaned against her, working his tongue inside of her, circling the entrance before pushing in, lapping up at her walls. He smoothed his hand up her thigh, reaching her clit with the rough pad of his thumb. He pressed gentle circles into it, his tongue spreading into her. She hissed, bucking into his ministrations. 

He pulled away, sliding his thumb down from her clit to her entrance, gently working his way inside. 

“Arthur…” she whined. 

“Yeah?” He teased, mimicking her tone, pushing his thick thumb further inside of her. 

She moaned, pushing herself onto him. “Arthur, please, I need more,” she breathed, meeting his gaze. “I need you .” 

He felt himself throb against his already-strained pants. He cursed under his breath, moving to unbuckle his pants. In his tunnel vision, he didn’t see her move from her position on the bed. 

Her hand came to rest over where his struggled with the buckle. “Let me, baby.” she cooed, moving his hands away. He blinked, letting her move him, watching her smaller hands undo his belt, working his pants down, taking him… oh. She took him out, palming his length. Shit, it looked bigger in her hand. Or maybe he hadn’t been this worked up in awhile. She ghosted her hand up and down, barely fluttering her thumb over the tip. His breath hitched, trying not to buck up into her hand, and failing, miserably. 

She grinned, looking up at him through her lashes. He reached out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “Hey, girl.” he breathed shakily, her hand jerking up suddenly. 

She giggled. “Hey, yourself, handsome.” 

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed to be on the other end. He looked away, only for a moment, before feeling a warm wetness engulf him. He gasped, whipping back to look down at her, half of his length having disappeared into her mouth. “Shit, darlin’,” he cursed, his accent dragging at the words. He bucked up into her lips, smoothing his thumb across her cheek. 

She hummed, the sound sending vibrations into him. “God, sweetheart, you’re bein’ so fuckin’ good to me right now,” he hissed, his hand reaching underneath to cup her jaw, squeezing it and guiding himself further in. 

She opened her mouth wider to take him. “Christ, you’re perfect,” he groaned, feeling her tongue slide up, her hand taking what her mouth couldn’t. 

She pulled off of him, kissing his tip, pumping her hand over the slick she had left. His breath shuddered. She smiled up at him. “You want more?” 

“God, yes.” he pushed her back onto the bed, muscling her onto her stomach, ass in the air. She squeaked in surprise, and he palmed her ass, squeezing it open to get a better look. God, she was practically dripping for him. He bit his lip, groaning. He rubbed himself up her slit, gathering the wetness there, rubbing it onto himself. “All this for me, darlin’?” he whispered, squeezing her hip. 

She wiggled herself back, trying to take him in. “Fuck, Arthur, it is, please, just fuck me already,” she whined, his tip sliding just past where she wanted him. 

“If the lady insists,” he teased, aligning himself with her, before softly, gently, pushing into her. 

She turned her face into the mattress, moaning, grabbing at the covers. “ Jesus, Arthur.” she groaned, her words muffled. 

He pressed in further. Halfway. “Can’t hear you, doll.” It was taking everything in him to go so slowly. 

She turned her head to the side, pushing back to take more of him in. He hissed, his hands twitching on her ass, squeezing her. 

He let out a breath, finally fully seated. He didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t. He gyrated against her, desperate for some kind of friction. A whine built in his throat. “Can-” 

Before he could ask, she forcefully pushed back into him, and he cursed, abandoning all hesitation and fucking into her. She cried out his name, arching against him. She was so tight and hot around him, her ass bouncing back against him with every thrust. It was all he could do to keep himself standing, his vision focused solely on where their bodies met. 

“Ar-thur,” she gasped, her breath shuddering, “God, God, you’re so big Arthur, Jesus Christ,” she moaned, her words starting to devolve into sounds with no meaning. 

He kept himself rooted deep within her, barely pulling out before slamming back in again, and again, and again. Her hands grasped for purchase anywhere, everywhere, on the bed, moaning noises that almost sounded like his name, pushing back into him with every thrust. 

Shit. Shit. He screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer. 

“Miss,” he breathed her name. “I, shit, I-” he grabbed her thighs, his fingers bruising in their pressure, forcing her back into him. 

She whined at the pressure, growing limper. 

“Fuck! Fuck,” he yanked himself from her, grabbing at himself and finishing on her back. 

She had collapsed into the bed, giving a small satisfied moan. He breathed heavily, immediately grabbing a towel from the closet and cleaning her off. “S-Sorry, Miss.” he caught his breath, “Should’ve grabbed the towel before doin’ that on you.” He discarded the towel, placing a small kiss on her back, then immediately wondering if that was too much.

“What?” she said, muffled a bit by the covers. She turned, pushing herself up to sit and look at him. She frowned, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, cowboy.” Her frown twisted to a smile, “I oughta be thankin’ you for such a nice time.” she teased, pinching his cheek.

He suddenly grew bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’ know about all that, but I definitely am thankin’ you.” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, her lips slightly swollen… he had so many things to remember for his journal. “Best dream I’ve had in awhile,” he mumbled, moving to get under the covers. 

She joined him. “Dream?” she laughed, “You still drunk enough to think you’re dreamin’?”

He shrugged, opening his arms. She shifted into them, laying her head on his chest. “Could be stone cold sober and still think this was a dream.” He pecked her head. “I’ll miss you in the mornin’, girl.” 

She snorted, but snuggled into him anyway.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Arthur groaned, the light only hitting his closed eyes, but giving him a headache all the same. His back didn’t hold the ache it usually did, though, laying on this terrible cot. It was the small victories, he guessed.

He thought back to his dream last night, and sighed wistfully. What he would give to have that right now, his cock painfully hard this morning. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. 

A hand reached across his stomach, ghosting against his length. He jumped, looking over to his side. “Well, good morning to you, too.” she yawned, lightly playing with him, a teasing look in her eye. 

He blinked. He squinted.

He rubbed his eyes again.

“Holy shit.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Bonus

The woman placed the guitar against the wall, happily engaged in conversation with some of the patrons closest to her stage. “Excuse me,” Charles butted in, stealing her attention from them. 

She turned to him, confused, but polite. “Yes, sir?”

He smiled kindly. “I’m sorry, Miss, but could you do me a favor?”

“Depends on the favor, don’t it?” she laughed.

He nodded in understanding, and pointed to Arthur, hunched over the bar. “Do you see that miserable man over there?” She looked, and stiffened in recognition. “He has been coming to this saloon every Thursday night, just for you.” he turned to her. 

A blush painted her cheeks. “You’re kiddin’.” she laced her fingers together nervously. “He’s never said anything to me.”

Charles shook his head. “My friend—he is shy with women.” he leaned in conspiratorially, “Especially women he likes.” The woman’s blush deepened, her gaze darting over to Arthur. He straightened up. “All I ask is that you talk to him. I’m afraid my friends and I have ruined his Thursday, and I’m sure that would cheer him up.”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing. He could tell why Arthur was so taken with her. “He sounds sweet,” she spoke softly. “I would love to.” 

He thanked her, watching her make true on her word and walk over to Arthur. Charles noted his reddened ears and fumbling fingers and smiled. Hopefully, this would make up for it.

[churipu]

Hellooo! I saw ur reqs wer open and I wanted to know if its oknif ok if u can write abt the jjk men being their for their gf's performance/exhibit for school or work when their family or friends can't make it?

(I love how how the way you write them as well! I found u through the nanami oneshot and I've just been on ur masterlist reading through all of ur fics and drabbles, esp now with me going through the same thing as above 💛)

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓 .ᐟ

❪ jjk men showing up in your art exhibition when nobody did ❫

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuuji x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. none :)

note. hi nonnie :( thank you so much for the love, i'm so sorry for the delay, i'm so sorry that happened to you. i'm 100% sure whatever you were presenting to everyone was awesome! i love you <33

𝜗𝜚 . GOJO SATORU

gojo has received your heads up regarding an art exhibit a week prior. he'd notice the way you've been very very excited about having your art work presented for people to see. and he's happy to see you happy.

he made it extra clear he wanted nothing with the jujutsu world the day your exhibit was held — all he wanted was a nice and peaceful day to spend with his partner. gojo woke up extra early to send you off, helping you get ready.

the way your smile lit up his morning, he couldn't even get back to sleep right after, seeing how happy you are with today. gojo can't even wait for the time to struck twelve for the exhibition opening, and so he got there an hour early.

he was silent with his movements, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his grasp as he paced around the crowded area — blue eyes averting everywhere to look for you. with his height, finding you wasn't too hard for him.

pushing through oceans of humans, he stood right in front of you. the solemn look on your face doesn't go unnoticed, "hi, baby."

you look up to see him and crack a smile, "you came."

gojo grins down at you, "of course i did, can't miss my girl's exhibition, can i?" his large hand covered the top of your head, "why the frown? are you not happy to see me?"

chuckling, you shake your head, "no. my parents couldn't make it, they were too busy with work."

and you were so excited to show them your art work too. gojo didn't forget the way you rambled on about how your parents were going to love it — especially when it was dedicated to them. and they butchered it up by choosing work over you.

this time, gojo frowns along with you, "they didn't show up?"

with a shake of your head, gojo pulls you into his embrace, "i'm sorry that happened, show me everything? i arrived here an hour ago to see you, you know?"

"one hour? so early and for what?"

"to see you, silly. i couldn't wait to see all your works," he pressed his lips onto your forehead, "and this is for my beautiful girl."

he handed you the bouquet and laced his fingers with yours, "let's get some food after this? it's a date."

"it's a date!" you smiled, no longer feeling upset.

𝜗𝜚 . NANAMI KENTO

people always tell you to never get excited over small things, but you couldn't help it — the slightest things made you really happy, but at the same time, the slightest things made you sad as well.

i'm sorry, can't come to the exhibit. something came up, i'll try to swing by next time y/n! maybe next year? sorry :(

you read the text over and over again. this should be fine, (friend) was probably just busy with their day so they couldn't drop by — no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that it was fine. you didn't feel like it. they promised.

"i'm sorry i'm late, y/n."

turning around to look at the source of the voice, there stood your boyfriend. sweat dribbling down the side of his face, hair disheveled with shallow and rapid breaths. he looked like he just ran a marathon.

"kento? i thought you couldn't make it—"

nanami shook his head, "i made time for you, i will always make time for you," he gave you a small smile.

"you're not late, just in time actually," you switched your phone off, shoving it inside the back pocket of your jeans, "thank you for coming for me."

he wiped his sweat, standing up straight, stepping towards you, "where are your friends? they should be here now, are they not?"

the corner of your lips tugged downwards. it was embarrassing as it is, and now you had to tell him that they weren't coming. it's like a slap to the face, "um . . . they aren't coming. something came up, and i guess they couldn't come."

nanami's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he said nothing. his hand reached out for yours, giving it a slight squeeze, "spend the rest of your day with me?"

you blinked, "how about work?"

"don't worry about my work, you come first, understood?" he brushed his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

𝜗𝜚 . ITADORI YUUJI

maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics made you a better person. maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics pushed you to do better — like a cry for attention. but for some apparent reason, they never seemed to be satisfied with what you're doing.

"art brings you no good, what are you going to be? an artist? do you know how much they earn a year?"

don't be an artist this. don't be an artist that. it was pretty expected that your invitation for them was discarded with no thoughts behind. hell, they didn't even spare it a glance.

and yet, the little girl in you still hoped that they'd show up — even just for a while.

they didn't, it should be obvious. you saw it coming, but it still hurts anyways. however, itadori yuuji showed up; and he was like a ball of sunshine, so you couldn't help but to be happy as well. especially with how packed his schedule is, he still made the time to stop by.

"baby!"

"yuuji!"

he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug, carrying you around with ease, "sorry i came a little late, kugisaki needed me to bring her shopping bags back to the cab. where are your parents? they should be here, right?"

right. they should have.

"no, they didn't come," you murmured into the crook of his neck before pulling your head back with a sad smile plastered to your face, "but i'm okay, you're here now!"

yuuji puckered his lips out slightly, "i'm going to pester gojo-sensei to let me off for the rest of the day, i need to be here with you."

you shake your head, "you can't, what if you have a mission?"

"fushiguro can take over, pretty. don't worry about my missions," yuuji replied, nuzzling his nose to the side of your face, "plus, how can i leave you alone here, huh?"

"you're the sweetest, yuuji. but what if it's an important mission?" you pinched his cheeks gently, pulling them.

"fushiguro can take over, he's strong. and there's kugisaki, and the second year students. they'll manage," he retorted, pecking your cheek before letting you down.

"you're too nice, yuuji."

"i love you. and show me your works, i can't wait to see them, you know? kugisaki wanted pictures!"

© churipu 2024 , do not copy or repost anywhere

[shuenkio]

𝐈'𝐦 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐭? | Ksn.

Paring: Sunoo x M!reader | Genre: Smut! Very.

Synopsis: Not only is he upset that you spend less time with him, but the fact he saw a random guy said hi to you and you flash a smile so bright. That's when his inner beast came out.

Cw: jealousy, cumming, cursing (any other else was explicit so bad, read at your own risk)

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st language

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

𝐀𝐍: writing a bias who look like an angel was... Something. Anyway writing smut is still limited because I'm still trying, some awkward part might happen and yeah, I might cringe in the future seeing this. Enjoy reading. ( Request From anon)

A group project from your professor made you start to spend less time with your lovely boyfriend, Sunoo. Every weekend after your class, you'd often come home at 7 p.m., which is unusual.

Sunoo finds it weird that you're coming home late these past few weeks, till he thought you'd cheated on him. However, who knows, when you went to sleep, he always checked your phone and your account in every corner to make sure you weren't doing anything out of his sight, and it's true you did not have anybody else other than him and a group chat of friends.

After that, he started to realize that you probably keep a distance from him by spending more time with your friends, almost prioritizing them over him. Which made him upset for some reason but was soon replaced by madness mixed with jealousy. You've never smiled at anyone or anybody approaching you, but for today, when coming home after finishing groceries with him, during the time he's paying, he saw a guy coming at you and said, 'hello' Not only that, he thought you'd be creeped out by a stranger's face; instead, a bright smile appeared on your face.

That's irritated him so much; when he saw that, you were changed now. At home. While he was unloading the foods into the fridge, Sunoo saw you lying on the bed as you were making a phone call with one of your friends.

He decided that he'd have to finish all the action you have been taking, throwing him into the edge, which he can't back down now; if he couldn't bang tf out of you tonight, he'd be dead.

"M/n!" The door is opened by a strong pair of arms as he knocks softly on it twice, but you can't seem to pay any attention to him or notice him behind you with your back facing him. The ignorance not only boils him more, but the heat in his body continues to grow like a chemical burn.

You should at least turn your back or respond to him; there's no way you couldn't hear, yet nothing comes out of your mouth. It's all busy chitchatting with your close buddy about nonsense things and group projects. The temperature has reached its limit. The innocent boyfriend, who was like an angel, gentle and bubbly to you, turns 360° at the spot.

His jaw tightened as his gaze was painted black. Without any warning, he closed the door slowly, locked it as he took off his shirt, left him with his sleeveless top on, and made his way behind you.

"Yeah, lol, bye, see you tomorrow." gasps escape as you feel an arm placed underneath your shorts. When you turn around, you see Sunoo completely turned on, and he looks just like he just came out of hell.

"S-sunoo! What are you doing?" Nervously asking, you were about to turn around, but his strong strength left you unmoved.

"You were such a bad boy for these past few weeks, m/n; you left me alone and spent time with your friends instead of me. A lot, no too much. Have you forgotten you have your boyfriend here, desperate for your love?" He explains with a stern tone that all he said was true; nevertheless, you try to deny the fact that you have to complete the group project.

But all the things you've said now are useless; he knows everything, and if you keep denying, there's no reason why you could be able to walk tomorrow, maybe or maybe not.

"Go on, what do you have next? Not only that, the guy I saw earlier at the store looks like a creep, but you still flash your only smile for me to him? M/n, what's this all about?" Get a hold of his control, and while his finger lingers on the entrance of your ass, circle around and attempt to slide in, but he gives you time to explain that the lie would only push more in.

"I—he that guy—he was a friend of mine; we go to the same college." sweating soaks your forehead as you try your best to make your statement. Later, you find yourself crying out in pleasure as you feel a finger slide inside of you.

"Oh really? Hm... I think I've never seen him before. If he were your friend, why have you never told me about him? Most of your friends with whom you interact are all in your contact list, but not him? I know if you did, you'd think I'd be jealous, but unfortunately, I am jealous, by my own sight!!! For now, let's see who's belong to who shall we m/n?"

The innocent is gone, the lamp in your heart making you speechless with no more words coming out to argue with the matter of fact. Ripped off your short away, as he smirked in Maniac, he had never been like this; he used to be a sugar pie gummy bear, but now? A total psycho who's probably fucking the hell out of you tonight.

"Foreplay is dumb; why not get into it, hm? I look like a beautiful cloud, baby boy, but a clout can also be a dangerous cloud when it's raining." Before you can react, a cock spring frees out of his pant, the leaking pre-cum making your dick twitch. Never in your relationship have you seen each other's private parts, but look! It's paler than your thigh. The size might be normal, but what happens if he knows how to...?

"I'm going in, boy. I'll take care of you after these hours." The dark, low chuckle gives you goosebumps, and soon enough, Sunoo slides his cock in, raw! Losing control of himself once he was inside of you. His eyes painted in wide white, listening to your whimpering sound, even turned him on to the edge.

All he wanted right now was to claim you as his. Thrusting in, wasting no more time, with both of your hands locked by him on your back in one hand, he never worked out nor did he have an abs, but he's strong, strong, tbh. The wet liquid of his pre-cum gives him smooth access to push in even deeper. The first time with you was worth it, and he knows you're low-key loving it.

"Shit, why does it feel so good?" Everyone would be moaning, whimpering, or cursing out of pleasure, yet for Sunoo, he's crying out of pleasure. Tears streaming down on his pretty face, with your countless can't-take-it huffs only to make him fasten his pace, Sunoo's balls continue to slap against your balls, mixed with the wet sound you'd often hear in a beat of music. It's so hot and aroused that your body is twirling under his touch, adjusted, and squeezing in his cock, begging for more.

"Sun—Nghuu... I feel strange, faster!!" Wiping his satisfied tears away, he then responded back with both of his hands locking, wrapped around your hip before going all in, one thrust in a first attempt, making his cock disappear suddenly.

Your jaw almost cracks when his tip reaches the most sensitive spot ever in your body, the prostate. Saliva is leaking out of your lips like hunger, as is a massive load of cum shooting out on the bed sheet. When he saw that you were cumming, a weird feeling approached him, like a string intertwined in one, a wave of jolt hitting the shaft of his before he exploded inside of your ass.

It was messy, but it just hit the spot of pleasure. The odor of stain cum began to fill the room, and both of you then collapsed on the bed while still connected with each other.

"It feels good, right, m/n?" Nod to the question as a warm smile appeared on his face. Patting your head out of cuteness.

"Good boy, we're only here once; nobody else interrupts us. You got it? Now let's restore your energy; your trembling is too much." And that is how you know: you will never leave him alone again, ever. All innocent guys are wild, and you can't change that.

"Goodnight 내사랑" 

Ps: Some requests I might write and some I might decline just because. sometimes I feel horrible when I won't be able to do it, 🥹 surwy to some anon had asked me ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ Please mind my English! ><

🗣️All crd pics & dividers to the owner.

[aliorsboxostuff]

Can I request grey house x male reader fluff or smut is fine , if that's not too much

Yessss honestly i was in the mood to write some fluff but if this turns out slightly bitter sweet erm,,,, i can only apologize hgdhdghjfjgh i can only write House so much before he goes out of character HAHAHA 

Within his arms.

Tags: Greg House x M!reader, Greg House, male!Reader, doctor!reader, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, fluff, slight OOC on House's side whoops, Cuddling, Bantering, just pure cuteness and maybe bittersweet at the end.

The tests are done, and the results are on House’s desk. Surely he wouldn't mind you taking a short nap before checking in with the patient, right?

—

It was midnight, precisely 15 minutes past 12 AM. 

For the past 3 days, the current patient House’s team is diagnosing has been going from stable to unstable in a matter of hours. With each problem they solved, another pop-up, and with the week ending it seems like you'd have to cancel your weekend plans if the patient's condition keeps deteriorating. 

You’ve just finished the last batch of blood tests, eyes grimy as you try to blink away the claws of sleep. There were a couple of times where you had to violently jerk yourself away, and then hold the urge to stick a needle of adrenaline into yourself just to keep testing stuff.

Somewhere in your head, about a couple of hours ago, Cameron came by to tell you that House might still be in his office until late. She was the only other doctor who knew of your little crush on the diagnostician, and pity you for it. You don't blame her. After knowing what the girl went through with him, you can't help but be sympathetic, though, despite her blatant warning, your heart can't seem to stop doing flips whenever House is around. 

A machine beeps. You grumble, standing from where you sat to retrieve the result.

“I should check in on House…” You mumble, betting on him still being around. 

Stumbling through the halls, you finally made it to your Boss’ office, and while it’s disappointing, you're not surprised he’s no longer present. The man must've gone home ages ago, he probably was packing up when Cameron informed you of his overtime possibility. You sigh, dropping the results of the blood tests on his desk before your eyes glance at the couch, enticing you with its soft cushions. 

The tests are done, and the results are on House’s desk. Surely he wouldn't mind you taking a short nap before checking in with the patient, right?

You check the perimeters, around the office and into the hall. House is nowhere to be seen. The night shift nurses as milling about, busy with their patients to monitor. Finally, you nudge the door to close softly, the glass making a short clink, before you drape your aching body onto the sofa. After hours of testing and sitting hunched on the stool, the sofa comforts your back. Groaning as you stretch your arms above your head, fringe dropping slightly as your head leans back.

You sigh, relieved, a mixture of boredom and sleepyness a toxic concoction luring you to close your heavy eyes. You drape your arms around yourself, your lab coat long forgotten somewhere in the office. Bringing your legs to your chest, you lean slightly to your left, resting your cheek on the headrest, eyes fluttering close. Surely House, if he was still even here, wouldn't mind, right? 

If he did he would've shouted at me by now, that was the last thought you had before darkness slowly engulfed your vision, even the insistent tapping of a familiar cane didn't wake you.

—

“–ow are they so comfortable together? That couch is way too small,” 

“And House is all long limbs and- Honestly its impressive,” 

“Can't you two just hurry up and grab my phone? I can take a picture of them!” 

Soft light slowly penetrates your grogginess, eyes blinking open, trying to adjust to your slow-awakening nerves. You yawn, sighing at the feeling of being well-rested, it felt comfy and warm, something soft draped over your body, and someone’s long arms wrapped around you. Leaning back slightly to try and greedily soak up what is left of the person's warmth, a small smile makes it way to your lips when-

Wait. Someone? 

“Are you three going to keep gawking or should I test how hard I can throw my cane?” House’s voice snaps at your senses, vibrating through you as your ears are pressed beneath his collarbone. You hear the man behind you groan, knowing House he probably gave the team the worst eye roll known to mankind. 

“I thought I asked for the test results last night? I don't see them on my desk,” His tone drops lower. Instead of seeing, you hear a quick sequence of shuffling and shoes shuffling on carpeted floors, knowing it must be your other co-workers hurrying out of the office. 

You gulp, finally finding your voice after you're sure it won't crack. “The results are already on your desk, know…”

House nods above you. His chin rests atop your head. “I’ve read through them.” 

He pauses. “You got the PTT wrong.”

“No? I’m sure it didn't…” Your voice fades.

You feel House shift. He moves your legs to drape over the couch’s armrest, alleviating more of his limped leg. “No, but I just bought us another half an hour, so unless you want to go back to acting professional, I suggest you-”

“No,” You croak out. “No it’s…. Fine. Thanks,” 

You feel House sighs. Either way, you decide to push your luck as you lean deeper into the doctor's neck, sighing, and pull at the blanket further. Something deep in you worries, a ball of anxiety growing steadily. You don't know if House knows of your little infatuation, if he resents it or lets it fester to consume you whole. He and his puzzles are too advanced for you to understand, though eventually, it boils down to his entertainment. Is he letting you do this to see how far you’ll go? 

Suddenly, you feel House’s hand rest on your shoulder, one finger tapping gently. “You lucky I was also staying late last night,”

You hum, relief settles in. Despite the outcome of this predicament, sleeping in House’s embrace while the man himself seems content enough to let you off the hook, you cherish this and compile it into your memory. 

Requests are open! Reblogs appreciated <3