#most (all) of the time is actually making things so difficult sobs ..

[bunveh]

Me successfully creating THE kaveh profile hehe

[bella-rose29]

Breathe

Elrond x gn!reader (Rings of Power)

not me coming out of my cave to post an Elrond fic then leave again 👀

also not me not writing anything for over a month (probably, I haven't counted) and then coming out with a near 5k fic oops

the original title for this was 'is he dead or not??? who knows' but I think this one is good too

Word count: 4.9k

Warnings: I think I killed someone writing this/made them need a lobotomy so consider that a warning to anyone who's gonna read (sorry), mentions of death, war, wounds, a child crying, the photo I'm gonna use is a warning in and of itself, I think that's it?

I feel I should add that this fic is actually happy (eventually) 😂 I reread the warnings and thought 'oh oops'

tagging @oblivious-idiot and @uku-lelevillain but if anyone else wants to be tagged in future Elrond works then let me know!

You could not breathe. 

It would eat you alive, all this waiting, chewing on your insides until it worked its way outward and left you but a shell of the person you used to be, and you wouldn’t have any way of stopping it. Your lungs felt tight as you cradled the head of a sobbing child, his mother dead after birthing him and his father out in the fray with the rest of the soldiers of Middle-Earth. He was young, had barely seen his homeland, let alone the world, and he had never seen war before. You were not so lucky as he - war had been your upbringing. You could fight as well as any other of the elven soldiers, but somebody was needed to look after those who could not, and so you had volunteered along with a small band of others: retired fighters and those looking to start out and join the ranks but were not quite good enough yet. You had trained them over the last few days that you had all spent in the safe hold, taking them through the basics of how to grip a sword and the best way to gut an Orc should they break through and make it to the doors of the underground cavern serving as your shelter. 

The child in your lap had stopped sobbing, his cries turned to sniffles, and you carefully lifted his body to nestle into your side. He was too young for war, you thought again, taking in the small points of his ears and the lack of angles on his face. You attempted a smile, hoping it would comfort him a little as you pushed a strand of his hair behind an ear, and whispered to him. “All will be well. They will return to us victorious, and we shall have no need of too many more tears.”

“But how do you know?” Children were inquisitive, which most of the time you adored, but when you are attempting to raise the spirits of a boy who does not know if he will ever see his father again, the questions become rather irritating. 

“Because I have seen many things, and because our armies are strong. They will defeat the darkness and bring light to our lands once more.” It was the best you could do when you did not truly know the answer. You had learned the art of rhetoric years ago, when Elrond Peredhel had first come to Lindon and had quickly discovered that for the elves to see past his half-elven status he would need to become invaluable, or risk being an outcast in the race he had chosen to be counted among. You had been the first to greet him, intrigued by this visitor from the Havens of Sirion when you had been born in Lindon and raised there, and he had been grateful for your tour and kindness. He had spent many an hour sat with you, commenting on his meetings and the politics of Lindon, and how he carefully navigated clashing personalities and difficult conversations, and so you had learned. 

You used it now, that knowledge that Elrond had provided in all those hours, to comfort this child. He had since taken to playing with a stick on the floor next to him, leaning further away from your side to entertain himself as he drew patterns in the dirt, and it gave your lungs the much needed space to breathe a little more. 

It had been hours and hours since the army had left, heading out onto the battlefield to meet Sauron’s forces, and you were getting impatient. Elrond had gone with them, determined to provide what help he could no matter your protests to him entering the fray. You had trained him up, knowing that he could hold his own but wanting to be sure that he would be alright, and when you had suggested that you go with him while tightening the straps of his armour he had placed his hands over yours (his hands were too soft - far too soft for someone about to go into battle), gently coaxing them from where they had fretted with the leather and returning them to your side with a sad smile. “You must stay here, melethel, and protect those who cannot fight.” The term of endearment never failed to heat your cheeks, or send a warmth up your neck and through your chest. “For my peace of mind, please stay here.” He had let go of your hands at that point, moving them up to rest on your shoulders as he looked into your eyes. A lock of hair had fallen over his face, and before you could think you were pushing it back into place, wondering if you had imagined him leaning into your touch that lingered a moment too long for two elves who were only friends and nothing more, his eyes fluttering closed for the barest fraction of a second before he was looking at you again, or if it had truly happened. What you were certain was real was the soft kiss he placed on your forehead, lips brushing the skin with such care and tenderness while his hands on your arms squeezed like you would disappear that it made your eyes sting with tears you refused to shed. Elrond would not see you cry, not now, not when there was a chance it could be the last-

No. You would not think that way. He would come back alive, and if he was hurt then you would stay by his side until he was healed, and then you would continue your lives as you had before - content and in friendship. 

It wasn’t how you wanted things to be with Elrond, which was why you could not breathe. What if he was one of the fallen, and you never saw him smile again, or gaze in wonder at the golden leaves of Lindon or cast a wry glance your way in a council session when somebody said something he thought was silly and knew you would be thinking it too, your eyes already seeking him out? What if you never heard him sing again, or write poems about trivial matters that seemed so important to him? What if you never got to challenge him to a duel again, laughing when your swords clashed and rang out in the clearing you always fled to, and calling him a cheat for tickling you after you pinned him to the floor?

And what if you never told him how you truly felt? That from the moment he had seen you try not to show your tears after climbing too high in a tree and falling, grazing your knee and cutting your calf, and had rushed to your aid because that was what Elrond did, you had loved him. He had been so calm, so gentle that night, the lights of others long gone out as they dwelt in near darkness while your lanterns stayed lit as you gritted your teeth and washed the cut of dirt and bark. You had barely heard him come in, his knock as quiet as your tears, but when his hands wrapped around your own and took the cloth from you, dipping it again in the bowl of water to your side, you barely startled. He had not been in Lindon long and yet already you knew him and his movements as though they were your own, and you trusted him enough to see you so vulnerable, and from the way he had looked at you that night he knew it. Your love for him was strong and true and the greatest thing you had ever felt, and for years you had passed it off as a friendship so powerful that the bond between you was unbreakable. You had friendships like that with others, so it would not have been out of the ordinary to have one more person whom you would love unconditionally until your light died, but when he had been kneeling by your side and cleaning the gash on your calf with a tenderness you had only read about, you had known it was different. 

The child beside you now dropped his stick, the movement bringing you out of your thoughts as he scrambled instead to his feet and started to push through the gathered people to make for the doorway. 

The doorway which was now opening, a messenger stepping through. You stood up, air catching in your throat and making you nearly choke on spit as you struggled to breathe again. Your hand flew to your opposite wrist, under the fabric of your sleeve and touching the chain that rested around the base of your hand - a gift from Elrond in the early hours of the morning before he had left for battle and after he had kissed you on the forehead. “To remember me by,” he had said, a sadness settling over his features that you hated. He unclasped it, gesturing for you to hold out your wrist, and when you complied he had linked the chains so carefully, fingers brushing the underside of your forearm so lightly it sent chills darting over your skin like minnows in a stream. His hold had lingered, and your breath had been held while time seemed to stretch on more than usual for your kind. 

Elrond had that effect on you, it would appear. Making you breathless was a skill of his you weren’t sure he knew he possessed, and at this current moment you wished it was a skill he had never mastered. Your throat felt tight while the messenger caught his breath, tired from sprinting from the battlefield. The fight was over for now, the question was simply who had won.

“Sauron’s forces have been pushed back, and the majority slaughtered. We have won this battle!” the elf cried, and the first wave of relief washed over you and the crowd. The second would come when you knew who was alive out of those that had been sent away that morning, and who would not return this night. 

The thundering of footsteps could just be heard over the cheers of the people gathered in the safe hold, and the first of the elven soldiers appeared in the chamber, tiredness being replaced by joy at seeing their loved ones again and embracing them with a fierceness that even Sauron could not comprehend. There were too many similar soldiers, their armour all the same and their faces all dirtied, and it was a long few minutes before you caught sight of the elf you were searching for. You were sure your face was blank and cold, and your eyebrows furrowed as you attempted to see past the hordes in front of you, but the moment a head of unruly curled hair glinted under the torchlight, clearly moving from soldier to soldier and asking if they were alright, you knew it was Elrond. He seemed to sense your gaze on him, turning his head to look over his shoulder and seek you out, finding you within seconds. He is alive. Elrond is alive. It was a mantra, playing over and over in your head as your feet numbly moved you forward while he did the same, pushing through people to reach you, and before you could truly register it you were in his arms, the coldness of your previous gaze melting and turning into warmth as you looked at him, tracing the small cuts on his face and wrapping your other arm around his waist. He was dirty, and bloodied, and shaking from the cold or from the fight or from something else entirely that you could not name, but he was alive. You squeezed his waist, pulling him closer to you, but didn’t miss the slight wince on his face as you did so. “Elrond, are you hurt?”

“I am fine, melethel. Just a scratch.”

“Do not lie to me, Elrond. Come, let’s get you cleaned up and out of your armour; it must be heavy on your shoulders.” He did not reply, only giving a tired smile in its place, and let you take him by the hand to the room you had commandeered for you both when you had arrived. There were two raised cots, not that Elrond had slept much, as he had been needed in meetings to discuss battle strategies and had, in his usual fashion, not stopped working until he was content that his plan would work. You closed the door behind you and pointed to one of the cots, not looking at him as you told him to sit. He did so in a daze, fingers picking at the leather straps that you had done up for him that morning. It was long past nightfall now, and Elrond likely had not rested since he woke up. You gathered your medicines and poured a dish of water, moving to sit on the stool that Elrond had pulled up for you and putting your supplies on the side table to help him with his armour. You worked in silence, removing piece after piece of metal until it sat on the floor in a neat pile and you had better access to his wound. Cautiously you pressed your fingers to the edge of the cut, trying to gauge how bad it was and immediately regretting it when he hissed in pain and tried to move away. You snatched your hand back, eyes snapping to his face to see it scrunched up in pain. “Elrond,” you spoke, voice quiet in the near-empty room as you placed your hand on his fist. “Elrond. It is alright. Here, help me get this off of you so I can clean it.” He softened, features settling back into a face you knew better than the wrinkled nose and squeezed-shut eyes, and smiled a little as you started tugging at his undershirts.

“You know, if you wanted me to take my clothes off you could have said it earlier.” Had you been standing you were sure your knees would have given way and caused you to hold on to something for support. He must be delirious from the wound, or the amount of time spent on his feet fighting. Elrond never said things like that: not to you, not to anyone. You forced a glare onto your face in lieu of a response, hoping he hadn’t noticed how much he had affected you with one simple sentence, and started to gently pull the fabric up. 

“Stop jesting, Elrond. I need to clean your wound. Unless you would prefer I left you here to get an infection and suffer?”

“You rather enjoy leaving me to suffer, melethel. You do it whenever we fight.”

“I always help you up off the floor after I wipe it with your backside,” you indignantly replied. You were glad he was talking - the silence had been strange. Normally you would not mind sitting in silence with Elrond, but that was when you were safe in Lindon, books in your hands and paper rustling as the pages turned, not when he had just fought a bloody battle and could have died. 

“I recall that last time we fought it was I who helped you off of the floor,” he mused, and you swatted at his arm. 

“Shush. I let you win that one. Now stop talking and help me; your limbs are gangly.” He let out a noise of disbelief at that but lifted his arms anyway, wincing when the shirt went over his head and pulled at the skin of his side. An Orc had found a gap in his armour, pushing its blade through and marking the side of his body with blood. You held your breath at the size of it, and when Elrond asked you how bad it was you answered with your eyes still on his side. “It is… it is nothing I cannot fix.” He seemed content enough with your response, nodding and leaning back on his hands to allow you more room to work. He grunted in pain when you raised the cloth to his skin and started cleaning away the blood and sweat that had stuck there, but otherwise was silent while you worked. 

Time is a strange thing for elves: your lives are so much longer than those other races of Middle-Earth and so often you do not perceive it in the same way - twenty years for some may be the blink of an eye to an elf. You could not have been cleaning and stitching his wound (he had cried out more when the needle had pierced his flesh) for more than an hour or so, and yet it had felt like an eternity. When you were finally done, his wound covered in an elvish salve to stop infection and the spread of whatever evil was in Orcish weaponry and stitched up with a fine thread that would dissolve harmlessly into his skin over time, you brought out another cloth and poured fresh water to clean his face. He was caked in dirt and blood and grime, sticking to his fair skin from all of the sweat he had created in exertion, and if you did not know Elrond like the back of your own hand then you would not have recognised him at all. 

“Let me,” he said, pushing up off of the cot and moving to where you stood by the basin. His hands covered yours, gently attempting to pull the cloth from your grasp and do the rest himself, but your grip was strong. 

“No. I have been sat around doing nothing all day and I might just explode if I do not finish looking after you.” He smiled, the barest of things as the corner of his mouth pulled upwards a little, and his eyes softened. How he could be soft after everything he had seen today amazed you. It had taken you years to stop guarding yourself after you first fought in a battle, not letting anybody see any vulnerability in case they took advantage and thought you weak. It was part of the reason you stayed behind: you had not wanted to find out what would happen if you fought again, not when Elrond had come into your life and, piece by piece, dismantled your high walls. 

“Alright, melethel. Alright.” He had always insisted on calling you that, saying that it didn’t matter that the pair of you were not courting, and who were you to refuse him when he spoke so sweetly? He settled back against the counter, letting his feet drift apart a little so you had room to stand between his legs. He closed his eyes, trusting you to take care of him, and for the first time since he had returned he looked at peace. He seemed unsure where to place his hands, hovering for a moment between your waist and the wood of the cabinet top he perched on before deciding on the latter. You worked away the dirt, revealing more clean skin with every swipe of your cloth, until eventually you were looking at the face of your friend as you remembered it. His hair still needed a wash, as did the rest of him, but Elrond was here, in front of you and more like himself than he had been since he had left in the morning. 

“I think you had more soil on your face than the grounds of Middle-Earth,” you joked, rinsing out the cloth again before bringing it up to his face to wipe the remainder of the grime away. He opened his eyes, a childish grin appearing on his face at your words. 

“Then you have done a fantastic job in removing it all.” He paused, then narrowed his eyes at you in playful suspicion. “At least I assume you have removed it all, and haven’t just smeared it all around my face?” He poked a dirty finger into your cheek, making you laugh and jerk backward to stop him spreading muck everywhere. Elrond stopped moving abruptly, catching your hand and studying a finger. “You’re bleeding.” He blinked at the dried blood on your pointer finger. “Or is that mine?”

“Oh. I had not even realised. I must have stabbed myself with the needle earlier. Really, it is nothing, Elrond.” He didn’t let go however, still looking concerned that you had hurt yourself while tending to him. 

“But if you are hurt-”

“Which one of us was brutally stabbed by an Orc blade? And nearly died?”

“I did not nearly die, melethel, you are being dramatic.”

“As are you, Elrond. I barely even noticed the prick of the needle.” He had brought your hand close to his face, and somehow your body had gone with it. The hand that held the cloth was bracing your weight next to Elrond’s hand, your fingers just touching, and your face was so close to his that you could feel the soft brush of air that he let out every time he breathed. It was so typical of Elrond to be more concerned for others when he himself was the one that needed to be worried over, and it only made you love him more. 

“If you say so,” he hummed, shifting his hold on your hand so that he could bring his lips to the tip of your finger where you had stuck yourself with the needle, pressing the smallest kiss to it. Your breath caught again, and he noticed the hitch. “Melethel? What is it, did I hurt you?” His eyes widened and he rushed to rectify the mistake he thought he had made. “I am so so sorry, I did not mean-”

“You did not hurt me, Elrond, for goodness’ sake!” You cut him off, exasperated and feeling very warm. 

“Then why-” he broke off, eyes searching your face and studying the most likely very visible flush to your features. “Oh,” he said, softer than a leaf of one of the trees of Lindon falling to the earth. You swore his pupils dilated a little, and he tilted his head back ever so slightly as realisation dawned on him. “Oh.” He let go of your hand, fingers slowly moving to your jaw to turn your face back towards his after you had looked to the side in an attempt to hide from the intensity of his gaze. 

“Elrond, what- what?” Your hand he had been holding was now on his shoulder, keeping you upright along with the arm he had somehow snaked around your waist, pulling you even closer to him. 

“Are you- do you…” he fumbled over his words, something he very rarely did, and through the haze of wondering how you had ended up in this situation, his fingers cupping your jaw while his other hand rested on your lower back and he stared into your eyes, flicking between them both to see if he could read you, you felt a swell of pride that you of all people had made Herald Elrond of Lindon speechless.

“Do I what?” you asked, as gently as you could. The hand you had rested on his shoulder was now toying with a strand of hair that curled under his ear against his neck, your other braced on his chest (which you were just now remembering was unclothed), and a small smile was on your face. You knew that he knew the truth now - how could he not? But he wanted to hear it, as did you, because the fear that he might be wrong was lingering and if he was wrong, he might hurt you, which was the last thing Elrond ever wanted to do.

“Do you feel it?” he whispered, eyes similar to that of a wolf cub you had once seen, wide and innocent, but entirely Elrond in the blown out pupils and spark of knowing that he carried. His nose was brushing yours, breath fanning over your face, and now it was your turn to tilt your head back to meet him. “Do you feel that whenever we are apart… your heart aches for the space where I should be stood? That whenever we are together I am complete because you are there and you are so bright and wonderful that you take my breath away more often than I would care to admit - do you feel that too?”

“How could I not, Elrond? How could I not feel that?” You felt the tension dissipate from his shoulders, his body sagging forwards into yours just a little, the action causing his face to come even closer to yours, angled slightly upwards from where he was an inch lower than you sat on the cabinet. 

You couldn’t breathe again, but this time it was because Elrond had pressed his lips to yours so cautiously that you thought you might melt into him. His fingers on your jaw were warm, not urging you one way or the other but just anchoring you, as he always had done from the moment you had met, letting you decide what happened next. You broke off first, resting your forehead against his and catching your breath, and he swallowed thickly, moving to place tiny kisses against your jawline and cheek, pausing only to murmur your name into your skin. Your hand buried itself in his hair, fingers tangling in the curls and knocking out the dust and dirt that had stuck there. It had long since dried of sweat, but the strands were greasy and needed washing, and that thought combined with the memory that he had a wound in his side were enough to make you pull back even further. “You should have a bath,” you said when he looked up at you with adoring but concerned eyes. He paused for a moment, frozen in place while he contemplated what you had said, and then he chuckled, the sound low in his throat. 

“Are you saying I smell, melethel?”

“Yes. Come, I’ll get a bath ready for you.”

“And if I would rather stay here?” His fingers had started lightly stroking your jaw, and with the way he was looking at you it was becoming harder and harder to leave his embrace. You managed to wrinkle your nose and step back, a strength you hadn’t known you possessed taking over and making you move. 

“I’m not kissing you again until you have bathed, Elrond.” He sighed dramatically, retracting his arms and standing up, wincing slightly and favouring his non-injured side while you started transporting water from over the fire.

“Truly? You really would leave me here?”

“If it gets you over here faster, then I shall get in with you.” You had never seen the elf move so quickly before, pulling off his boots and drawing out towels for when the bath was finished with. He hesitated with his trousers, then decided to keep them on, glancing at you to see what you were doing. You were already watching him, making a decision of your own before starting to pull at the strings holding your robes together.

“You don’t have to-”

“Oh I’m keeping my underclothes on, but I shall likely sink right to the bottom if I keep these thick robes on.” He looked relieved, and you stifled a laugh as you headed for the dresser where your clothes were kept, pulling out a pair of fresh trousers. “Here, get changed first if you’re keeping trousers on; you’ll dirty the water immediately.”

He complied, heading behind the partition in the corner of the room and re-emerging a few moments later to find you already in the bath, eyes closed in contentment at the feel of the warm water on your skin. Elrond lifted your head, pushing you forward gently so that he could clamber in behind you and settle back against the tub. You heard him grunt when his wound his the water, and turned to see his face scrunched in pain. “Are you alright?”

“I am alright. Just don’t lean on my side.” He helped you turn in the tub so that you were sideways against him, his wound kept out of the danger of being pressed down upon. 

You stayed in the bath until it got cold and your fingers wrinkled, having washed the dirt off of each other with one of the towels Elrond had brought over, and then when you got out you dried each other off and redressed in fresh clothes, hanging up the wet fabric and making for the bed, curling up next to each other, your head on his chest. Sleep came easily to you, Elrond’s body creating a warmth under you that made up for the dying fire in the cold room, and at some point your breathing matched his. 

For now, you could be content in peace. Another battle would come, the war not yet won, and Sauron’s armies would be at your doors again soon. But not yet. They would need time to gather strength again, to marshal and be ready, and so you had time too before Elrond had to leave again, and time to breathe before you would be sat waiting, and waiting, and take in air before it was stolen from you when he kissed you goodbye. 

[katiascraft]

"Tender is the night for a broken heart" | CL16

Parings: Charles Leclerc x Reader.

Summary: You been feeling very sad lately. Your emotional stress is taking you places you didn’t want to be back in ever again. And Charles knows it - just wanna make sure you know you are loved despite it all.

Now playing: "Space song" by Super Pipo.

Word count: +2k

Warnings: INSINUATION OF SUICIDE - if you are sensitive to these kind of topics please don’t read it. ANGST WITH HAPPY ENDING. VERY SAD. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. I do what I can. Not proofread.

Author's note: I may or may not written this one about a real situation. PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION. Hope you like it and sorry in advanced if I make you cry. Charles the man that you are in my head 😭. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

The wind was brushing the tears that were dropping from your eyes gently. You were shaking, scared. Nature was the only thing that surrounded you. Tall pines with your favorite gradient of green were all around you. You could hear the bird singing. You thought it was morning because the sun on your face was warm - that made you close your eyes to take it all in. that made you sob even harder. You could hear the water of the river crashing against the stonewall of the cliff you were standing on. when you opened your eyes you could see that you were on the edge of it. You took a gasp of fair freezing in the moment. A feeling so overwhelming took over you starting to sweat. Your hands wrapped your own body around. You hugged yourself there. The pain eating you alive was almost unbearable. The wind intensified, sending shivers down your spine. You closed your eyes again, ready to let go of everything. Of this pain you carried along so many years of your life. This burden you carried everywhere. This ghost living inside you is trapped, washing away your personality. Your soul felt in prison by the canvas it got. Your body felt the most uncomfortable place to exist. Your mind was so twisted sometimes you didn't know what was reality and what was your anxiety inventing fake scenarios which will hunt you all night long. Living with you was so difficult. It felt impossible for you that someone could actually love just by who you were. If you are this dark entity then who could love you? Anyone. Your mind convinced you, you needed to end it all to be finally free. You knew you were meant to fly. You just needed to let go. Relax your body and let it float. Let it fall into the immensity of the universe. Let you find a better place to live in. have your happy ending. You finally opened your eyes again out of breath trembling. You were ready. This was it for you. It was time. It was finally time. You even smiled.

But when you were about to let go you started hearing that voice. The same voice you heard every morning and you didn't know why it would choose to stick around your misery.

“y/n! y/n stop!” his voice almost broke your ears of how loud he screamed. You stopped freezing at your feet. Your heart started pounding like crazy. Adrenaline takes over your body turning your face red. Tears started to come out again even more violently. “y/n please don't do it!” his voice was torn in desperation. He was crying as violently as you, you could feel it. You could feel him grabbing your arms. You saw the watered disappear. Now you could only see the stone of the mountain you were standing on. You screamed at the top of your lungs and then everything was black.

“No!” you woke up sweating cold. You were a sea of tears shaking. Charles was already awake. He was trying to wake you up for a couple of minutes and now is really worried about you. You couldn't stop crying stunned by the nightmare you've just had.

“y/n. It's okay, love. I am here. You are ok” he said gently so wouldn't scare you. He grabbed you in his arms carefully. You looked so fragile he was scared he could break you. His heart ached seeing you like this.

These past few weeks were really hard on your end. You started feeling like your old self, self doubting about everything and anything. Insecure you weren't enough anymore for him or your job or your friend or even your family. You started feeling like a burden again lost in your own pain and struggle. Life was always a little harder for you. You've been out of really toxic relationships during your teenagehood that broke you down so bad you had to rebuild yourself all over again as if you weren't ever born. All this trauma you carried made everyday harder to live for you. You developed social issues not knowing how to interact or make friends as the aftermath. You also couldn't trust people or ask for help. Yeah, you were depressed for a couple of years. Thankfully you met Charles at your best self you liked to think. You were starting to feel happier. You liked who you were becoming. It wasn't that hard anymore to talk to people or open up with them.

When you met, you never thought Charles would even like you to be fair. He was the most gorgeous guy you have ever met. Real life prince charming you used to tell your friends. You were only an average girl, a troubled and messed up one, you thought you had no chance with him. But at the end of the road trip with friends he kissed you and you felt so overwhelmed with joy you couldn't believe it was actually your life, the one you were living. It felt strange and at the same time amazing. It was so easy with Charles to open up to him and tell him your story. He never judged you nor ran away from you scared. He didn't see you as a monster. As a broken record never able to be fixed. He fell in love with you because to him you were the sweetest person with the biggest heart he has ever talked to. You were so honest and real to everyone about everything he fell for it. He fell for your loud and weird laugh. So Precious and contagious. With your beautiful sparkly eyes always so honest and crystal clear. You were so you, so real. He felt you were so brave to be so you. In his world it was uncommon for your kind of people. He knew since the first night he met you at Lando´s birthday 5 years ago that you were the one. He didn't know you but he already knew. Destiny told him.

He knew your struggles, of course he did. He always listened to you. Felt so heartbroken every time. If he could, he would literally murder every single monster - because the one who hurt you didn't deserve to be called even humans - that did all of that to you. To him you were so pure, maybe too good for this cruel world. He tried to protect you from it all the best he could. But there was one thing he couldn't protect you against and that was your mind. He knew that your mind was the one who could move earth and seas just to hurt you in the worst way possible.

Heknew something was off with you when you started retreating. You stopped going to friends´ dinners. You didn't assist in the races you were supposed to. You stopped getting out of home more and more. You barely went out to the garden. Most of the time you were in your studio working non stop to preoccupy your mind and not think. He knew you were struggling when I stopped doing your hair the way you loved to do it. Stopped wearing your fancy outfits just to drive him crazy and urging you to take them all off when you two got home. You stopped eating the meals you were supposed to. He knew you avoid seeking help when you feel this down. He knew it was really hard for you so he let you be and wait for you to take your time until you're ready to address your feelings.

Tonight you were asleep when he got home from Max´s. You didn't want to go either and Max was your best friend. Charles was really concerned about you. He hated seeing you like this when you don't deserve to feel this. He would burn the world alive just for you to be happy if needed. You were sleeping peacefully so he decided to take a shower and join you. He laid next to you on his side to look at your face so peacefully relaxed. So angelical. He always felt so lucky to have you around in his life. Even without noticing you were the light of his life. You made him so incredibly happy, heard, understood, supported, embraced. You were his angel. Always reaching for him to give him a hand with anything he needed. So patient and understanding. You were his favorite place and he wished he could make you feel the same. Because he loved you with every fiber on his body and the only wish he had was for you to be happy.

After about 20 minutes of sleeping or so he woke up to you sobbing uncontrollably next to him. You were asleep. He guessed you were either having a nightmare or sleep paralysis. He settled on the bed so he could try to wake you up. His heart was racing in anxiety full of worry. He tried to wake you up for a couple of long minutes until you finally did and he clothed you in his arms. He rocked you gently trying to comfort you in some way.

“I'm sorry baby you feel this way” he whispered with a knot on his throat. You were shaking still but your crying ceased little by little. He kissed your temple lovingly and carefully. You just stayed like that until you could calm down.

When you did you felt drained. Your heart aches as your face from your salty tears and tries to wipe them everytime. Charles cupped your cheeks making you look at him. You felt so guilty and embarrassed to make him go through this. He didn't deserve to be with a broken soul. He deserved better. Someone that could make him happy as he deserved. You looked at him, his eyes glassy with tears.

“Listen to me y/n, i know you may or may not believe me. But listen to me okay?” you swallowed hard, ready to hate yourself for being a burden to him. “I love you. I know you feel like you don't deserve me like you are not enough for me. But let me tell you all of that is not true. I swear I would kill all these people who made you believe all these awful things about you if I could. You don't deserve to feel this pain baby. You are beautiful. You are important to so many people. You make so happy you don't have an idea” his voice cracked making you start crying again and so did he. “You really do y/n, please, believe me. You are an amazing person despite everything that happened to you. You fought so hard to be who you are and I promise it's beautiful to see. And I'm so proud of you baby. Everyone is, I promise. You are really important to me and to everyone that knows you. You are light and I know you don't feel like it. That you feel like a burden but you aren't. And you'll never be for the right people, the ones that see you, the real you. and the real you is so interesting and pretty baby. Yes you are my love” he was crying and smiling. You were sobbing but didn't take your eyes away from him. He was burning your soul with his words. Telling you everything you needed to hear and he didn't even know that. Charlie was so perfect to you even in this shitty as fuck situations with your mental health. You felt so lucky right there in his arms under the sight of his beautiful eyes that looked at you with deep love.

“I love you charlie” you said below whisper and hugged him tightly hiding yourself under his frame. You wanted to hide there forever if possible. He intensified his grip and kissed your head trying to comfort you as much as he could.

“You deserve to be happy y/n, i really mean it. You're the best person i've ever come to know.” he said softly making butterflies fly like crazy on your stomach. The pain you felt was fading away now little by little. You felt so dumb for not talking sooner about your feelings but you forgave yourself. That's what your therapist told you. You need to be more gentle with yourself and give the same understanding perspective as you give to others. Treat yourself as you treat others. Always.

“You make me happy” you said with your face buried in his neck not wanting to get out of there anytime soon. He smiled relieved and pressed gentle kisses on your cheek.

He was the first person who listened to your soul. And you knew right there that with him by your side you could heal and finally be the person you deserve to be and be loved just because.

Charles was the love of your life. And he was yours. There´s nothing to be afraid of.

You will be more than okay.

[joekeeryswife]

plz could you write something about mase looking after you when you’ve had a rough day with the baby!!

stress - m.m

a/n: hello angel! thank you for your request. omg i love it so much, kinda changed it a little if that’s okay! (dad! imagines own my heart!!!!). idk how to feel about this one so lmk what you guys think! anyways, let’s get on with the imagine, enjoy reading 🫶

mason mount taglist: @noturbabe22 @luvvtrent @peterparkerbae

four weeks, it had only been four weeks since you’d had your baby and you were already feeling like you’d failed her.

you knew becoming a mum would be difficult but you didn’t realise just how hard it was going to be. it was like everything you did was wrong.

Mason had gone back to work only a week after Margot was born and that was one of the worst thing to ever happen. you felt like you didn’t have support even though he would get up with her during the night and as soon as he got back from work he would take over looking after her. what was funny was whenever Mason got back from football she was never crying, it was like she could sense he was coming home.

Margot loved Mason. whenever he had her she hardly cried, she’d watch his face with such concentration and coo at him all the time. but when she was with you, she’d scream and cry no matter what you did.

you felt useless.

you felt like the worst mum in the entire world, not understanding what was wrong with her as she cried just hurt your heart. you just wanted to be in the ‘baby bubble’ everyone spoke about.

you wanted to feel like your friends did when they had their kids. they were always smiling, always happy when they were with their babies who hardly cried when they were with them, it was like you were broken.

today was like no other. it started out okay, Margot was actually happy this morning when you woke up, Mason had given her a bath and put her in the cutest outfit but then as soon as he said his goodbyes to the two of you and he drove out of the driveway, all hell broke loose.

she was just sobbing and it hurt you to hear those cries. “oh Margot, what’s the matter my angel. please don’t cry sweetheart. are you hungry? is that what it is?”

you quickly balanced her with one arm as you tried to lift up your pyjama top so you could breastfeed her but every time you tried to get her to latch she would turn her head away and sob louder.

you had realised that Margot would hardly ever latch when you tried to breastfeed her. it was very rare that she would allow you to breast feed her so you had decided to start pumping your milk and give it to her in a bottle instead and most of the time she would drink it from the bottle.

“how about we get you a bottle instead hmm? would that make you feel better?” you knew she wouldn’t reply to you but it was nice to speak to her. you got up from the sofa after fixing your top and warmed up the milk.

her sobs grew louder as you rocked her. waiting for the microwave to ‘ding’ felt like hours. “i know sweet girl, not long now” you poured the milk once it was warm enough into the bottle and went to sit back down on the sofa. you tried a few times before she finally started drinking the milk, her sobs died down but her eyes were still filled with tears and the tear stains on her cheeks broke your heart.

she was hiccuping slightly as she drank her milk but her eyes were fluttering masa img she was trying her best to not fall asleep. “you rest angel, mummy isn’t going anywhere. and i’m sorry i can’t understand you like your dad does, i promise i’m trying my best”

with that, her eyes closed and it was finally silent in the house. you just hoped today would be a lot better than the rest.

-♡-

Mason was back home a little later than expected tonight, he had been asked to stay back to speak to ten Hag which he forgot to tell you about but he knew you had it all okay at home. you always had Margot in a good-ish mood when he would come home and it was always nice to come home to a quiet house after training or a football match. he would hear shouting all day and coming home was just perfect.

you didn’t want Mason to know you were struggling, to you it felt like the worst thing i’m the world. you were meant to be a good mum as soon as you gave birth but you just felt like all you did was struggle. you had no idea what you were doing and you didn’t want Mason to be disappointed in you.

however, tonight Margot would not stop crying. after her bottle this morning she napped for maybe 30 minutes before her sobs started again and that continued for the entire day. you didn’t know what to do and you felt like you had failed as a mother. you had no idea what was wrong with her and you hated that you couldn’t understand what she was crying for. you felt like she hated you.

as Mason entered the house he could hear the wails coming from Margot, he had never ever heard her sound like this before and or worried him. he could hear you, speaking to her softly over her cries, you sounded just as upset as her. “i’m so sorry angel, i don’t understand why you’re crying. i’ve fed you, cuddled you, changed you, i don’t know what else i can do. i’m sorry i’m failing you”

his heart broke. he walked into the living room and saw you holding Margot in your chest with tears streaming down your face. you looked so defeated and he hated it. “hey, what’s going on? are you okay?” he questioned as he slowly walked towards you.

you hadn’t heard the front door close so hearing him made you jump. you didn’t want him ti see you like this so you quickly wiped your eyes and showed him your best convincing smile. “oh yeah i’m fine, she’s just, i don’t know what’s the matter. i think she just might be tired” you lied, of course you weren’t okay.

“do you want me to take her?” he held is arms out so he could take Margo from you so you quickly passed her to him and he gently started rocking her which no i’m surprise stopped her cries. you felt your heart break. was it really that easy?

your eyes filled with tears, jealousy and frustration taking over your body as you saw how easy it was for him to calm her down. “look, go upstairs and have a shower, i’ll take care of Margot and you just have a break okay?we can talk after if you want to” he watched your shoulders drop slightly and your chin quiver as you tried to hold in your tears, something was definitely wrong and he was going to figure out what.

once he heard the bathroom door close he sat down on the sofa with Margot. he watched her huge brown eyes dart across his face. “what’s happened angel? you giving mama a hard time?” she cooed at him, a small smile on her face which looked exactly like yours. “you can’t give mama a hard time honey, mama’s with you all day” she squealed, obviously not understanding him.

“i’m sure you tired, if you’ve been crying like that all day i’m surprised you’re up right now” he decided to grab a bottle and try get her to nap so he could speak to you. he had never seen you like that before.

he warmed up the bottle and went upstairs to her nursery and sat in the rocking chair. he started feeding Margot and immediately her eyes started to close, he honestly wished that he was able to stay off work with you when Margot was first born. he had only gotten a week off work before he had to go back and he felt awful but ten Hag wouldn’t give him anymore time off.

once Margot finished her bottle he turned on the white noise machine and put her down into her crib. he quickly exited her bedroom to leave her to nap and went to your shared bedroom. he wanted to talk to you, you barely speak to each other now and he wanted to spend time with you.

after waiting for a while you finally came out the bathroom in new pyjamas and your hair was wrapped in a towel. your eyes were red, it was obvious you had been crying. “hey” you said, noticing him on the bed. he opened his arms and waited for you to sit on the bed next to him so he could hug you.

you quickly got onto the bed and cuddled into him. “we haven’t cuddled in ages, we haven’t spoke in ages. i want to know what’s bothering you sweetheart. i’ve never seen you look so upset” he kissed your forehead.

“i just, i feel like i’m not a good mum. like everyday all she does as soon as you leave is scream and cry and i’m trying my best to understand what’s wrong with her and i’m struggling. i’m struggling a lot” you felt your eyes well up with new tears. Mason felt his heart break. he was annoyed with himself for not noticing sooner.

“it feels like she hates me. and i just feel stupid because as soon as she’s with you, you calm her down. she even smiles at you. i’m feeling so lonely and i feel like a terrible mum.” your tears started flowing down your cheeks. you were quietly sobbing as Mason pulled you in closer and ran his hand up and down your back.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart, i really am. i’m sorry i haven’t been here to support you, i’m sorry you’ve had to do it all on your own. it’s not fair at all. and i’m sorry you think that you’re a bad mum because you aren’t. you are the most incredible mum” he heard your sniffles, guilt eating him alive.

“if you weren’t a good mum you wouldn’t do half the shit you do now. she doesn’t hate you angel, she loves you. you don’t know what she tells me when i come home” he joked which made you giggle through tears.

“i know it is tough right now, but i promise it’ll get better.” you looked up at him with uncertainty. “it will, stop giving me that look” he gave you a sympathetic smile. he hated that you were feeling this way, he wanted you to enjoy being a mum.

“you stay here for a bit, i need to go do something. don’t come downstairs until i say alright? just watch some tv and i’ll be back” he gave you a few pecks before he left you in the bedroom, confusion filling your body. but nevertheless you grabbed the remote and turned on the tv, trying to finally relax.

-♡-

it had been over an hour since Mason asked you to stay upstairs and all you could hear downstairs was Mason’s footsteps. you had absolutely no idea what he was doing and you were nervous to even go back downstairs.

“y/n sweetheart you can come down now” you heard him shout up to you so you quickly turned off the tv and made your way downstairs. whilst you were upstairs Mason did come to get Margot who had awoken from her nap about thirty minutes into him leaving you upstairs.

you had gone to get her out of her nursery but Mason quickly shooed you away back to the bedroom so he could take care of her. you were grateful he went to help Margot, he knew how stressed you were and he was trying to make you feel better so he took Margot downstairs with him.

you walked down the stairs and into the living room and saw blankets and pillows covering the sofa with your favourite food on the coffee table and your favourite movie ready to play on the tv. Mason was holding a now very aware Margot who actually reached out for you.

“i know it’s not much but i thought maybe we could spend time together for once?” Mason handed Margot over to you and kissed you passionately. “i’d love to” you kissed him one more time before you both made your way to get under the covers on the sofa.

Mason pulled you into his hold and kissed your forehead. “i know this doesn’t make up for what’s been happening these past few weeks but i do want you to know me and Margot appreciate everything you do” you felt a smile form on your face as he spoke, he had a way with words which always made you feel special.

“i have also spoken to ten Hag and told him that i’m gonna take a few weeks time off to look after you both. i don’t want you to feel alone, ever, because i am here for you” you looked up at him, it was the first time he’d seen you smile in ages.

“i know you are, you didn’t need to take a few weeks off. will he not get angry at you?” you kissed his cheek and he shook his head. “i didn’t get to take the time of when she was first born so i i don’t care if he’s mad. i have a family to look after” he lent down to kiss you again.

you didn’t know why you were so anxious to tell Mason how you were feeling, you knew he would help you and you appreciated him. “thank you mase, i love you” he smiled at you “i love you more”.

[kittykattysstuff]

Warning: Incest.

Gojo satoru x fem!reader

“Let’s get married”.

Satoru declared as soon as you both were left alone. And those three words changed your world completely.

Being the sister of ‘The Strongest’ was far more difficult than people would have thought. It was not glamorous, as all your friends used to think. Yes, Satoru-nii was the best big brother you could’ve ever asked for, and you had no complaints whatsoever about him. However, the rest of the Gojo clan wasn’t as perfect as they liked to show to the outside. No. Far from it. In reality, they were a bunch of conceited, hypocrite and misogynistic senile people, whose only concern was to ensure Gojo eventually had an heir to keep the family legacy.

Your brother, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about getting married and giving the Gojo clan the heir they oh so desired. No, he was more concerned with pissing them off and, on the rare occasion he actually bothered to visit the family estate, dote on you.

You see, you were nothing compared to your big brother, who had inherited the most powerful family techniques in centuries. Despite having cursed energy, your abilities were average, nothing special. Therefore, your parents deemed you of no use, and didn’t let you attend Jujutsu High. You were a porcelain doll, collecting dust in the corner and just waiting to be married off to the best suitor your parents could find. To your utmost dismay.

They already had had the perfect heir. You were just an unplanned nuisance. Satoru was the real deal. And you were absolutely fine with that. Really. You saw the pressure your big brother had been subjected to from the moment he was born and opened his eyes.

The expectations the higher ups had on him, the way they wanted him to be a perfect little robot and follow their orders blindly. Satoru’s rebellion, however, was the last thing they expected. And that was your favorite thing about your brother. He never listened to anyone, only ever doing as he pleased. He knew no one would oppose to him. He was the strongest, after all. What could they really do?

As you two grew up, you were always joining Satoru-nii’s mischievous plans of ways to piss your parents off. You were his greatest ally in your household, and he was yours. Satoru-nii was the only thing that made life in the Gojo estate bearable. You were each other’s best friends.

The day he left to attend Jujutsu High, you were a wreck. You remember clinging to him for as long as you could, refusing to leave his arms, and when he got settled into his dorm and it was finally time to say goodbye, you were a sobbing mess. He was just as bad. The last thing he wanted was to leave you behind with your shitty parents, but he had no choice. And, with a heavy heart, tears rolling down his cheeks in a rare moment of vulnerability, he promised he would come back to you and when the day came, you would never be parted again. He pressed a tender, chaste kiss on your forehead to seal his promise. Which leads you to your current predicament.

“I’m sorry, what?”

You asked as you tried in vain to process his words.

“Let’s get married”.

Gojo simply shrugged, a smile on his face as he looked at you through his dark shades.

“How can you say that so nonchalantly? And what are you thinking about? For fuck’s sake, we’re siblings Toru-nii!”

“Oooh, swearing now, are we? You really became a big girl while I was away, huh”. He hummed, shaking his head amusedly.

“Focus, Toru-nii. Where’d you get this crazy idea from?”

You tried to make your big brother come to his senses. You were on the verge of having an aneurysm from the way he seemed so at ease with the whole thing. That wasn’t the worst thing, though. You were more worried with the fact you did not find the idea so bad. What was wrong with you? Maybe all those years living with your family had made you go insane. You shook your head, trying to get rid of such unholy thoughts.

“The higher ups are pressuring me to get married and have an offspring”.

Satoru said seriously, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat on your bed. You followed suit, sensing the shift in the atmosphere as you sat across from him, hugging your pillow close to your chest in an effort to create a wider gap between your bodies.

“They always have, nii-chan”.

You said softly, sympathizing with his displeasure.

“They’ve been trying since you became of age, and you always managed to avoid it in the end”.

Gojo groaned, taking off his sunglasses and rolling his eyes. If the situation wasn’t so serious, you’d be laughing from his childish antics.

“Ugh, I know. But this is not like those stupid dates they used to settle. They actually gave me an ultimatum”.

“Nii-chan-

You tried to placate his anger, before he cut you off.

“I know, right? Like, how dare they threaten the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in recent history?! The audacity of the old farts!”

He started to complain nonstop. This was your time to roll your eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to get out of this situation, Toru-nii. You always do”.

You smiled encouragingly. Your big brother was just blowing it out of proportion, exaggerating and making the details seem worse than they actually were.

“Except that this time I can’t, little sis. They said that if I don’t find a wife in one month, they will find me one themselves”.

Satoru looked you straight in the eyes, and damn, those baby blue eyes of his still made you weak in the knees. Ever since you were kids, he would always talk to you without a blindfold or sunglasses when he wanted you to do something for him. And you caved. Every. Single. Time. Of course, the bastard knew it all too well. Still, you kept your resolve.

“I don’t see what’s the matter. They’ve threatened you many times, and it never worked. Why’s it so different now?”.

“Mom and dad found you a suitor”. He declared, straight to the point.

You gaped at him. How did he know? It was partially true. Although your parents had already decided on the perfect husband for you, it had not been made official yet. And, until the announcement was formally made, you would hold onto every last shred of hope you had.

“It’s not official”. You replied, stubbornly.

“Come on, they already scheduled a date to make the announcement public”.

He said it with such certainty, you knew Satoru couldn’t be lying about this. Fear settled deeply in your heart. They had really scheduled a date? If your nii-chan wasn’t lying to you, and you knew he wasn’t, he never once did, then you were helpless.

“I-I’m sure that if I talk to them…”

“What, they’ll listen to you? They’ve been dictating your whole life since you learned how to walk, sweetheart”.

Unfortunately, Satoru was right. Trying to talk to them would be absolutely useless. You were stupid for even entertaining the idea.

“I know it is not ideal, sweetheart, but this is the best solution for both of us. Do you really want to marry the pervert Zenin Naoya?”.

You grimaced. That was totally repulsive. You could never marry him. The men from the Zenin clan were even worse than your own family.

“But, Toru-nii, this is wrong. We’re siblings!”.

You still tried to reason with him, but the words didn’t seem so firm coming out of your mouth. At this point, you knew you were trying to reason with yourself more than your brother. Oh God, you were just as sick. Picturing yourself getting married to your very own brother shouldn’t feel so good.

“Darling, I thought we had already crossed that line a long time ago”.

Satoru smirked, getting closer to you, your knees touching as he took the pillow from your hands and threw it over his shoulder in the bed. You gasped, eyes huge and mouth open like a fish out of water. You two swore you would never speak of this again.

“Toru-nii!”

You admonished him, refusing to face his bewitching blue orbs, instead focusing on the sage green wall in front of you.

“Oh yeah, I still remember when you came to my room in the middle of the night, wide eyed and with the cutest pout on your pretty little lips, begging me to teach you how to kiss-“

You put both hands on his mouth, silencing him.

“I was just fifteen!”.

“Well, you came to the right person. I’ve always been a great teacher, if you know what I mean”.

Satoru winked.

“Ugh, stop being so cocky”.

A beat of silence passed before Satoru cleared his throat.

“So, what do you say, sweet sis? It’s either you live the rest of your life in a loveless marriage, or you become the wife of your mature, amazing, sexy Toru-nii…”.

“Okay, okay, I get it!”. You stopped him before he got carried away.

“Say, if I agreed to this”. You eyed him carefully.

“Mhmmm”. Gojo encouraged you to continue.

“How would you make it work? I mean, last time I checked, marrying your sibling was illegal”.

Your nii-chan smiled widely, already knowing he had won the discussion.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ve got it all covered!”. He clapped, pleased with himself.

“You arranged it all before knowing whether or not I would agree?”.

“Is that a yes?”.

Satoru leaned even closer, playing with a strand of your hair while watching your face intently all the while. You immediately felt your cheeks grow warm. Being close to Toru-nii always made you nervous. He looked like a predator analyzing its prey, a hungry expression on his handsome face. You gulped.

“Toru-nii, stop teasing me”. You pleaded.

“You need to say the words, sweetheart”.

He whispered, face mere inches from yours. His hand was now caressing your cheek.

“Yes, nii-chan. I will marry you”.

“Good girl. Now, how about we put the lessons I gave you back then to use? I don’t want my future wife to feel neglected”.

Those were the last words he said before he pressed your lips together.

[dollwritesarchive]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 — 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, fiancé!giorno, don!giorno, fingering ( f!receiving ), begging, edging ( him ), virgin!needy!reader, all characters featured are 18+ 

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ I AM REWATCHING GOLDEN WIND SO ITS THE PERFECT TIME TO OBSESS OVER GIORNO AGAIN. posted for my hoe for the holidaze event.  do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

Giorno Giovanna was a difficult man to be betrothed to. 

not because he was calloused or paid no attention to you— it was actually the opposite. your fiancé doted relentlessly on you, always allowing you to sit in his office with him while he worked ( even during meetings in which his men would give you uncertain looks as they reported sensitive information to him ), and he’d always reach for your hand, hold it on your knee and allow his thumb to stroke the delicate skin as he spoke. he also loved to kiss you, and he would do so whenever he had a moment to do so. even if there was an emergency that required his immediate attention within the ranks; on his way out the door, he would always take the time to tilt your chin up so that he could trace your couplet with his own. 

and it was this amount of dizzying affection that made it so impossible to keep yourself from lusting after him. 

but Giorno was, first and foremost, one of the most chivalrous men you’d ever met. even with his Gangster status, he was always trying to do the right thing when it came to his future with you. and, unfortunately, one of his intentions had always been to keep your pure and virtuous until the wedding, so as not to shame your family. 

“I don’t want you to regret it.” he’d whispered to you once in the dark as he held you. you’d begged him to just take you already— traditions be damned. he wasn’t having any of it. “I want you to be ready to give yourself to me, and not just physically.” he’d kissed your temple when you grumbled about being ready, and chuckled softly. “Wait it out. If not for yourself, be good for me. I want to love you for the first time knowing you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

but that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to satisfy your urges any other way he possibly could. 

“Please, don’t stop.” 

you were whimpering, back arching against the door he had you pinned to. Giorno had one hand pressed into the door behind your head to keep you from hitting it when you squirmed, and the other was moving under your skirt. with the long, lithe fingers you’d come to know so damn well, he could make you tremble and beg until you wanted to collapse on the floor in a heap of pathetic sobs. the first two curled inside, the svelte tips massaging a cluster of hypersensitive nerves that had you rolling your head on your shoulders, pressing it back against the back of his hand, and moaning. 

“D—Don Giovanna—“ 

but he frowns, pressing his forehead to yours. “My name,” he murmurs, allowing his lips to dance only inches from yours as he pumps his fingers deeper. you could feel the chill of metal as his rings, scattered on his remaining digits, press against your netherlips— he’d been considerate enough to take the two off of his fingers he intended to use on you, and they lay forgotten on the large, mahogany desk a few feet away. your hands were gripping his shoulders, but they slid over the expanse of his chest as it rises and falls with heavy breathing. you’d already untangled his braid, and his golden tresses hung around his face and shoulders like curtains, billowing as your ragged breath hits the strands. his shirt was also open, and you use the rare opportunity to dig your nails into the pads of muscles in his chest. “Say my name.” they were unyielding, but you already knew that. you could feel just how solid he was underneath his clothes when he pulled you in for a loving kiss or hugged you close at night. 

“Giorno…” you mewl, rocking your hips forward to meet his skillful pumping. “Giorno!” 

he moans, too. and it’s such a beautiful sound. 

pressing his body closer to yours, he nuzzles his face in your neck to kiss and suck all over, finding your sweetest spots in mere seconds, while his pace between your thighs picked up. you could tell he was enjoying it, too, breathing heavily on your skin before latching on to leave his signature in a love bite that would be easily covered by your collar. 

“Please— let me touch you, too…” you were hesitant, because you could feel him grinding a firm lump in his pants against your thigh, trying to relieve the pressure he felt, but you’d never been able to get your hands on it. but, you allow your hands to fall to his belt, the very tips of your fingernails dipping underneath to tease the faint trail of blonde hair that no doubt led to your desire. “Giorno, I want to feel you…” 

“Not yet,” he whispered, and you gripped his belt, frowning. he must’ve felt you inhale, ready to protest, because he pulls away from your neck to smother your mouth in fierce kisses, curling and twisting his fingers against your fluttering walls until you’re whining and pliable. “I’m dying to be inside you…” he moans into your mouth, pressing his body against yours. you could feel the tent jabbing at his zipper and you know it must be just hardly keeping his erection contained. it must be painful. “I want to feel you, too, amorina,” he crooned, breathless, using your very favorite pet name. “I’m starved for you. I’m just barely able to resist the urge to lay you on my desk. If I even feel your soft hands wrap around me, I’ll lose that battle.” 

your eyelids are heavy, flittering slowly, and you roll your hips to meet the palm of his hand. he was drawing you closer and closer to the edge, and you knew he was trying to distract you. “I want you to fuck me, Giorno.” you moaned, and you could feel every muscle he had go taut beneath his skin. the specter of a pinky blush was raising in his cheeks, olive eyes staring into yours. you take this opportunity to hitch one of your legs on to his hip, hooking your ankle against the small of his back to pull him closer. “I don’t want to wait anymore, please… please just give it to me!” 

Giorno’s mouth hung slack, his hips jutting forward as if instinctively trying to give in to your begging, and he presses your buttons from the inside with the pads of his fingers. your belly ties in knots and you swoon. “I can’t,” he whispered, breathless, and you squirm. you’re coming undone even as he refuses to give you what you really want. “I gave you my word when I put this ring on your finger,” his free hand slips from behind your head to reach between you and grasp your hand, pulling it up to his mouth so that he could kiss the jewel in the center, “that I would do… everything… I could to take care of you. Didn’t I?” 

you nod, moaning his name under your breath like a broken mantra. you wanted to argue, and tell him that you would be better taken care of if he would just strip you down and fuck you right here, right now, but you knew that wasn’t the case. because Giorno didn’t just mean physically. when he promised to take care of you, he meant to keep you safe, fed, spoiled. he wanted to keep your reputation as pristine as it was before you were engaged to the Passione Boss. 

“I intend to keep my promise.” he moans, his golden brows furrowed, as if it also pains him to say it. but Giorno’s resolve is strong, and you know that he means it. he kisses the ring again, and this time, your finger, too. 

“Damn you for being so— responsible—“ you whimper. you tried to poke your bottom lip out into a childish pout, but his digits were working too skillfully on your nerves, pulling the orgasm out of you, and you allow your mouth to hang open so you can cry for him freely. 

he chortles a bit, fondly, and kisses you again to muffle your sounds as you get loud. no doubt, his guards with their heads just on the other side of the door was getting an earful. hell, maybe even Mista would be red faced and unable to look you in the eyes when he escorted you to the car that would take you home to wait for your husband-to-be’s return. his hand slows in tandem with your aftershocks once you’ve cum, allowing you to ride his palm at your speed until you’ve come to a shivering, panting stop. “I’ll give you every ounce of pleasure that I can with my fingers until you’re officially my wife. As often as you’d like.” he husks, slowly breaking the heated kiss to pepper your forehead with a litter of slower, softer pecks. “And, when the night finally comes that I can give every part of myself to you, I promise to worship your body with my mouth, my hands, and my cock until you can’t possibly keep your eyes open or your legs from trembling. Amorina, I promise that, as your husband, I’ll not stop until we’re both in tears.” 

reluctantly, you allow your leg to drop to the floor, but you nod, throwing both arms around his neck, and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Giorno Giovanna,” you purr against his lips, turning your head to allow them to fit better against yours. “Is there no way to change your mind once it’s made up?” 

he smiles again, and shakes his head, both hands finding your waist to hold you steady so he can deepen the kiss you initiated. after a moment or two, he pulls back. “Every time I kiss you, another pebble falls from the wall of my resolve. We’d better hold the wedding soon.” there’s a faint knock, three taps. Mista. he called out to Giorno that the car was here, and Giorno sighs, using his clean hand to caress your cheek. he didn’t want to send you away so soon, but you know he didn’t have a choice. 

nibbling on your own lip, you take his wrist and guide it back beneath your skirt, allowing his fingers to rub against your slick one more time, and gather your essence upon them. “Don’t stop thinking of me.” you demand, batting your eyelashes. when you release his wrist, he brings his hand up to his face and inhales deep. you didn’t miss the way he shudders when he catches your scent on his shiny fingers. 

“I would be the world’s biggest fool if I did.” 

[i-yap]

What if you do angst x fluff? where Jason Todd fights with Y/n, had he just fought with Dick or something and he accidentally hurt his girlfriend? 👿 I like this dynamic, but I want it to be a real fight, you know? he enters a PSTD.

Im gonna do headcanons , warning( check the request)

Jason todd x y/n - he hurts her

out of all batboys he is most likely to lash out in aggression, by a landslide actually, especially fresh out the pit jason/ nightmare jason/ jealous jason.

He is also very very hard on himself about it.

Lets be honest here, this dude grew up on the streets , was trained to be a vigilante , got tortured, died, blah blah. He doesn't know how to control or regulate his emotions at all. He was never taught how to and the pit rage still is a part of him. He is really broken and so its very likely he lashes out

He is also very very insecure, he gets all in his head and he just cant control it and pushes people away.

You make him believe he can be better, that he deserves love and that you get what he is going through. Early on in the relationship he would just leave and not come back for weeks out of guilt.

once you convinced him to not leave and explained how much it hurt you, and once he explained how much at risk you could be but you accept the risk- after a very long discussion he learns to stay.

later on in the relationship he does overcome his insecurities and lashes out much less, so for him to actually physically lash out on you could only be one cause.

You betray him. He is either very jealous, maybe you have a childhood guy friend you refuse to leave. or maybe its a very hot coworker you refuse to stay away from in the name of professionalism. Or maybe jason just had an encounter with his past tormentors and they said something that got to him head and then he sees you laughing at the joke of your cute neighbour with the dog that likes you too much.

Now he is yelling and you're aggravating the situation. you had a bad day at work, and though you're usually calm and understanding , since you know what he has gone through, but you were just so annoyed that day or had a bad day yourself.

So when you start yelling back at him, he smashes a vase against the wall away from you. what he did not calculate was how the glass shard could fly and hit/scratch w2 you right in the arm. the second he sees you injured time stops

He crumbles, literally . crawls to you sobbing, hyperventilating - he might have a sezuire. this was his literal worst nightmare, and now its happened. you know he wasn't aiming the vase at you. you could either immediately realize or storm off and lock your bedroom, in the latter case he lies on the ground in front of the door the whole night sobbing out how sorry he is.

But if you comfort him and tell him its okay, he will just hold onto you and cry.

it takes him a while to forgive himself( a long while) so rough sex is gone, play fighting also gone. he goes silent , withdrawn almost depressed. You need to be patient, let him understand he didn't do it on purpose and this changes nothing in your relationship.

overtime things go back to normal, but he refuses to fight with you. He wont do it ever, he will leave , not for weeks but he will never put you to risk again. its like the cycle restarts and it takes him a while for him to trust himself around you when he's mad.

the thing here is, and stop reading the fic if you want to remain delulu (cuz I do too)

jason had a shitty past, he is not gonna be a perfect partner. he is going to be complicated and difficult to be with and you really cant expect anything else. it is very possible he straight up slaps you and then runs away to space for a month and then turns up on your doorsteps sobbing. He will often moan and cry about his past to you, bring it up often, often ruin the mood. He wont let you get a propers night sleep or let you have guy frnds and that an get annoying. ofcourse with love commitment and communication it could hcnage but you do at least for a while have to deal with that. No one expects you to clean up your lovers mess. this is only fiction and should not be romanticized. unless your irl partner died and was tortured for 2 yrs - you shouldn't deal with their shit. you have enough shit of your own to deal with

as a person who was with a guy who is depressed, I can tell you how hard this sort of relationship is. you sacrifice a lot. He developed depression one yr after we started dating, I left him 10 months after that. For 10 months I stayed with a guy who was cheating on me then calling em and crying about how "violated he felt" after consensually getting blojbs from random girls, randomly dissapearing for 4-5 days without a single text, who never wanted to talk anything about me not even for a minute, who couldn't listen to my problems but expected me to stay up 4 hours till like 6am even though I usually sleep at 11pm and then get up at 7am for practice. And I did it all, because he was depressed and I felt guilty about leaving him . But you need to prioritize yourself no matter how hot or broken a dude is. unlike jason, you can not "fix him".

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Spawn (MK 11) with a flighty darling—run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run

🐍ֶָ֢ Spawn isn't surprised that you are absolutely terrified of him. Having a hellspawn stalk your New York apartment and refuse to leave you alone is one hell of a scare. Still, he refuses to acknowledge that he had a part in intertwining both of your fates. It wasn't exactly difficult. You are simply a human—a mortal.

A little magic here and there and stealing your soul from your body and infecting it with a part of him also helped.

🐍ֶָ֢ You were a perfect Earthrealmer. Despite your need to flee every time he materialized out of thin air. He almost never spoke. He was like a ghost. He'd drop off groceries or things that you had been wanting to buy for the longest time. He'd sit on the edge of your couch and watch movies with you. Although he'd mostly just stare at you. It's a bad habit of his, but he just can't stop it. Your aura is so irresistible. Still, you would hide behind your couch, under your bed, or run out of your apartment and not return for hours on end.

So he tried to amend this by being as non-threatening as possible. He'd try to make himself appear smaller. He'd move something gently to notify you right before he would appear. He kept nightmares out of your dreams. The bad energy and entities that were attracted by him were never allowed within your space.

🐍ֶָ֢ You tried using holy objects on him! From every religion, you tried something. Some objects would burn him more than others, but he was used to the suffering at this point. Spawn would pluck the object out of your hand and offer his instead. You'd start fearfully sobbing and praying to a deity, or deities. It was more of an inconvenience if anything. 

He's already pissed off enough gods in his lifetime. He doesn't need one stealing your soul back and keeping you from him.

🐍ֶָ֢ It doesn't help that his K7-Leetha, and by extension his cape, have taken a liking to you. Leetha reaches out to you often, taking a hold of you. He isn't the one doing it. It's the parasite willing his body to hold you. He feels the need to emphasize this since you don't believe him. It's one of the few times he has actually used his words.

He doesn't fear much, but he fears himself. He fears himself hurting the only person he loves.

That's so fucking cheesy, he knows. It's like the plot of some stupid, shitty paranormal romance book, like his ex read.

It terrifies him. His cape will wrap you up and snuggle into you, feeding off of your warmth and energy.

It makes you woozy and panicky, only fueling him.

🐍ֶָ֢ You try to attack him, and he lets you. He can't help but chuckle at your pathetic attempt. You're like a cornered animal attacking the person trying to help you. It didn't work any of the other times, so why would it work now?

He's truly okay with it.

If it makes you feel safe, then he'll take some gunshots, punches, knives, and anything else you throw at him.

🐍ֶָ֢ Spawn tries his best to be vulnerable with you so you aren't as skittish. He speaks a little of his backstory, trying to make his voice less deep and gritty so as not to intimidate you. He asks you to call him any name, any nickname, just not Albert or Spawn. Albert has long since died, and Spawn has been through far too much to be loveable. He's just whatever he is with you. He's okay with that.

🐍ֶָ֢ The most important part is to hide his grizzly murders from you. You know he is a hellspawn and has some horrible shit and some good things sprinkled along in there. Still, his slaughters for you are sacrificial in nature. They feed him and give his obsession life. It makes Leetha even more protective of you. You make Spawn happy. You make his systems all fuzzy and hormone-y. That's how Leetha would describe it.

He keeps this secret like his life depends on it. You're getting more used to him. Why make you scared of him again?

[inkdrinkerworld]

omg please write that !!! ur so talented i know it would be amazing !!

Cw: angst, sibling arguments, being perceived as a bad person, anxiety, overthinking 0.8k

“Dove, you can’t keep letting them get away with that! It’s not fair.” Remus is tugging at his hair, his eyes wide as he tries to get his point across.

You’re not exactly sure how you venting about your day had turned into an argument but it had.

You’re on a video call, eyes tired as you explained to Remus the plights of your last few days.

You’d had the most massive falling out with your siblings because you’d tried standing up for yourself and now no one was speaking to you.

Mostly because you’d just resorted to silence than actually continuing the conversation- be it for fear of them fully disliking you or be it just to keep the peace.

Remus had been there for some of your arguments, he knew that eight times out of ten they took simple instructions or comments the wrong way no matter how clear you’d been.

“Rem, I have to. It’s just easier.”

Remus narrows his eyes at you, taking in your tear puffed cheeks, red eyes and shaking form.

“For who? I don’t mean to be harsh, but it’s clearly not easier for you. You’ve been crying nonstop and you’re not speaking to each other.”

You sigh, hard. Remus isn’t getting it and in your annoyance, you think he’s being thick on purpose.

“Remus, it’s just how it always is. We fight, we don’t speak and then it sorts itself out.”

He rubs his forehead. Remus has had this conversation with you before, and while he’s always been open about his opinions, he’s never been this upset.

Most definitely because you’ve never been this upset by it.

“It doesn’t though, you forgive them without saying anything and bottle it up until the next disagreement.” You’re sure he doesn’t mean to be harsh, but having your behavior pointed out this clearly is jarring in a way that it’s never been before.

Your eyes spring tears at his words. You love and you hate how well Remus is at reading you.

He takes your silence as the floor to continue, “They already think you’re a bad person, what’s standing up for yourself going to do? They’re not going to take the silence as anything but you being ‘difficult’, just like always.”

You choke back a sob, “But I don’t like being the bad guy. Being that is exhausting Remus and having people think that is hurtful and it’s tiring and,” you sniffle a breath in. “I just don’t want to be that anymore. Everyone else gets the benefit of the doubt besides me.”

“Dove,”

You hang up before he can say anything else and flop back onto your bed with a groan.

Your body shakes as you cry, your stuffed animals soaking up all the wet tears.

It feels horrible, having the people that mean the most to you upset with you.

At first you feel okay, ignoring your conversation with Remus in your head.

And then, your brain works up scenarios where tomorrow or tonight when he calls or if you see him- whichever happens first- he’ll say this is it.

It’s not the first nor is it the second time you’ve both had this conversation, and you imagine he’s upset having to say the same thing repeatedly only for you to ignore his words completely.

You know how tiring that is, and that makes your chest burn even more. It feels like a hot knife slicing through cold butter, this shame and this guilt that sits in your chest.

You cry some more when you realize that Remus really could break up with you, if the look of annoyance on his face had been any give away.

You fall asleep some time between crying over the argument with your siblings, the one with Remus and the anxiety-inducing idea that Remus is done with you.

The shrill ring of your phone wakes you up, and you answer without looking at the screen.

“I didn’t mean to imply that you’re a bad person, dovey.” Is the first thing out of his mouth and you feel your eyes burn with unshed tears again. “You’re not a bad person and you could never be.”

“Yeah,” your voice is groggy and hoarse as you speak. Your eyes are heavy as you blink, weighed down by all that crying. “You’re not upset with me? For being a pushover and for hanging up on you?”

Remus sighs and you wish you could see him.

He feels bad for the couple hours of your overthinking. The regret sets in his chest for a bit before it dissipates.

“Dove,” it’s a little reverent the way he says it. “We’re okay, baby. We’re always going to be okay,” you exhale shakily. “You could do horrible crimes and we’d always be okay. Tell your brain to give you a break okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

You sob softly and Remus makes a cooing sound in his throat.

“Will you come see me? Please?”

Remus chuckles his keys jingling in the background. “I’m on my way dovey, wait for me out front? On the swing set?”

“I can stay over right?” Remus laughs fully this time.

“You’re being silly. Dovey, pack two bags yeah? I’ll be ten minutes.”

[annebd]

2024 fic wrapped

i was tagged by the lovely @pitforwets to share some fave fics from 2024! this was especially difficult because i joined f1 fandom in late 2023 and only really started reading fic in earnest in january of this year, which means that this is basically "choose your five fave f1 fics you've ever read." that's hard! with that in mind, this list is nowhere close to exhaustive of the amazing list of fics i've read this year. but in keeping with a list of five, here we go (in no particular order):

icarus by @eirianerisdar. i discovered this fic sometime in the spring. i specifically remember being so engrossed in it that first day that i stayed up until nearly 4 in the morning reading it, and i had to call off work the next day because i was so exhausted (shhhh, don't tell my boss!). it's wing!fic, to reduce it to its absolute most basic form, but it's infinitely more than that. the characterization and worldbuilding are a masterclass. the scene where seb walks through the track picking up feathers lives rent free in my mind. (as does the scene where daniel is a wiggly worm whose newly grown feathers are itchy. if you want a fic to have you giggling and sobbing in equal measure, this is the one)

Hey, Remember That Time by @powerful-owl. i'm not 100% sure, but i'm fairly certain that this is the first of em's fics that i read. and what an amazing introduction! i definitely know that it's the one that made me reach out to say hi on tumblr, and i'm so glad that i did! daniel has amnesia, and max runs an inn- what more could you ask for? one of my favorite parts of this fic is the way em writes charles- he's such a little weirdo, and i adore him beyond measure. also, there's a scene where max describes daniel's own dick to him, and boy howdy. it's a good scene, is what i'm saying.

Breaking Every Rule For You by @magicalrocketships. maxiel exchange dick pics. that's it, that's the post. but to be serious, this fic is 150k words of some of the hottest sex (and preludes to sex) you'll ever read, interspersed with genuinely incredible character growth and exploration. honestly, this fic makes me want to learn to be a better writer. each time a new chapter came out, i would devour it and think "god, i wish i could do that."

there's glitter on the floor after the party by @fiveredlights. there are few things that i'm weaker for than a well written epistolary/social media fic, and there is no one out there who does it quite like five! their writing is amazing, every single time, and the care that goes into crafting these fics is unbelievable. i'm reccing this particular fic because it's the first of their fics i'd ever read, but this is actually a rec for everything they've published, because every single fic is one banger after another. also, after the actual events of this year in real life, i'd much rather sink into the world of this fic and pretend this is how things went down with daniel's career instead.

Get It Right Back by @overtake. have i mentioned that i'm a sucker for a social media fic? because i am. and this fic has the perfect combo of traditional fic structure intertwined with social media elements. it's very newly published and has already worked its way up my faves list. another fantastic example of a fic running me through an entire rainbow of emotion. special shoutout to all the scenes between max, daniel, and max's nephews. the cuteness is too much to bear.

tagging everyone who wants to do their own wrapped list! this was so hard, but what a fun look back at the year. <3

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

Hearts of Justice

Miranda Hilmarson x Secretary!Reader

Hello everyone and happy new year to you all <3 I am back with a new mini-fic.

Decided to make a lil illustration for the fic :3

Reminder that I have a Taglist now so make sure to use it <3

Also big thanks to @weemssapphicfor beta reading this piece <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Kissies, Love confessions

A/N: Y/N is a secretary at the police station where Miranda works. But what happens when y/n has to console Miranda after a rather rough breakup?

Words: 2'100+

AO3 Link

Taglist

-----

You have been working at the station for about two years now. 

When you first started, Miranda Hilmarson had been the only friendly face there. The two of you immediately became best friends, spending your breaks and sometimes even free time together. 

Technically, you weren’t a Constable, like Miranda. No, you worked as the station's secretary. You supposed this might have been the reason why they didn’t necessarily welcome you. 

Of course, you have been the topic of many bets and pranks, especially from your male coworkers. You never understood the allure of such childish things but… when you were with Miranda, childish things seemed to just make sense. Listening to her gush about her favourite show or how passionate she was about her work, despite being picked on herself, was the highlight of your day. You supposed that’s why the two of you got along so well. Miranda and you shared the same struggles. Even though the both of you didn’t necessarily have a good connection to your coworkers, you still made it through the day with the help of each other. 

A few months ago, you noticed how your affection towards the blonde Constable has changed. It has… intensified. And, of course, it had to happen right when that stupid Adrian dumped her. You never understood what she saw in him… he was a liar, a cheat, didn’t treat her right. It made your blood boil. Seeing her be so hopeful when you knew all he would do was make her cry, break her… it made you so unbelievably angry. And when the inevitable happened, and he dropped her, you were there. You caught her in your arms, cradled her gently and whispered apologies and soft affirmations as she sobbed in your arms on the couch of your flat. 

“He didn’t deserve you”, “I am so sorry he did this to you”, “You deserve better, Mir”, “I will not leave your side. I promise”, “Never again will I let anyone hurt you like this”

It took you a good hour to have her relax in your arms. Still, you didn’t move. This is when it hit you. This exact, stupid moment was when it hit you. How much you actually admired her. How much you cared for her… how much you loved her. It hit you like a brick, square in the face, and your heart sank. You were in love with her. You couldn’t tell her… never… you were her best friend after all, and you certainly didn’t want her to think you used her in her most vulnerable state, so… you stayed quiet. 

For days

For weeks 

For months

Half a year has passed since that fateful night, and it simply got more and more difficult to hold back your emotions, your feelings, your affections. So, you started distancing yourself. Small things at first like your lunch break, the hours you worked. 

In the end, you only saw her at the station, walking in and out. You have completely detached yourself from her and it… hurt. But you couldn’t tell her… could you? She wouldn’t understand… 

It took all your strength to deny her once more when she asked you, with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, if you wanted to join her for a beer after work. You hated the defeated look on her face as you declined, coming up with yet another excuse. But this time… something was... different. 

You could swear you saw tears. Miranda was… truly upset. This wasn’t your intention, this wasn’t what you wanted… before you could stop her or say something else, tell her you changed your mind, she walked off. Strong and long legs taking her down the halls and out the door. With a defeated sigh and tears burning in your eyes, you leaned back. That’s it… you’ve done it… Miranda probably hated you now.

“I would go after her if I were you…”

A strong voice spoke from behind, and you jumped, not expecting to be ambushed like that. You quickly turned in your chair to see the small detective standing behind you. A frown laid itself on your face as you looked at her questioningly.

“I- what?”

“Oh, you heard me.”

You looked at the brunette, then turned your face to the exit. Maybe… with a quick move, you stood, making your way out. Robin was right. You couldn’t let this be. You wouldn’t be the reason why Miranda cried. Never. You promised her. 

Panting heavily, you finally caught up with the blonde who sat on a bench outside, frantically smoking a cigarette and wiping tears away. The sight broke your heart.

“Mir…”

You said softly, watching as she jumped and her eyes widened. She turned her head away and quickly wiped away her tears.

“Yeah… yeah?”

You took a deep breath and sat down next to her, just looking at her, unsure about what to do. You took a deep breath and pulled her into a hug. She quickly wrapped her arms around you, hiding her face in your neck. You could physically feel her relax in your arms, and it made your heart constrict.

“I’m sorry… I would love to go have a beer with you tonight.”

You spoke softly, running your fingers through her hair. Gods, you missed being this close to her. 

“Really…?”

The blonde asked quietly. With a deep breath and a nod, you pulled her even closer.

“Yes, really.”

You whispered and let go of her. Miranda let go reluctantly and smiled at you, but the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Wanna… meet at my place?” she asked softly and you nodded. Taking her hands and squeezing them gently. Miranda’s cigarette now on the floor, forgotten by the two of you. Her smile brightened a bit and she nodded.

“Then I’ll have some beers cold and ready when you arrive.”

“That sounds wonderful!”

—

The rest of the day had been strangely uneventful, besides the growing worry and fear of what tonight might bring for you. You almost lost your cool this afternoon, wanting to press sweet kisses to her head and face. But you held yourself back. Miranda wasn’t interested in you like that… 

After work, you quickly rushed home, took a shower and changed into something a bit less formal and more comfortable. You styled your hair and added just a smidge of makeup. Not too much. With one final look in the mirror, you quickly made your way over to Miranda’s place. Standing in front of the door, your nerves started getting the better of you. You can’t do this… this is gonna be too much for you. Before you could decide if you wanted to leave or not, the door in front of you opened. 

“Ah, I thought I had heard something!”

Miranda smiled down at you and stepped aside for you to enter. With a shy smile, you stepped into her flat. It had been weeks since you’d last been here. It smelled like her and you felt slightly dizzy. After taking off your shoes and sitting down on her couch, Miranda quickly followed with two beers, handing you one. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I started to miss your presence.” she said softly and blushed, quickly taking a swig from her beer. You did the same, trying to suppress your blush. She missed you… 

“You’ve been very busy lately… what had you so occupied? Maybe a special someone?”  She asked softly, wiggling with her eyebrows but the way she asked the question… something seemed off.

“Wha- no! Well… not really… not like you think… I’m not…”

A bright blush crept onto your face, and you quickly took another big sip of your beer. Gods, you wouldn’t survive this. Miranda watched you closely, a sad frown on her face.

“Then… why were you avoiding me..?”

The pain you felt in your heart almost made you double over. This is never what you wanted. You never wanted to hurt her. With a sigh, you set the beer down and started fiddling with your fingers.

“It’s not… easy..”

“Tell me! Please! Have… have I done something wrong?”

“No…”

“Have… have I hurt you? Have I been a bad friend? Y/n please! I must know. What have I done to you? Have I said something that upset you or-“

“NO! No… Miranda… no, you could never…”

You sighed. You couldn’t tell her… 

Looking up you saw her face, pain, fear, worry, sadness. You- you just had yelled at her…

“Oh gods, Miranda, I am so sorry I… I didn’t-“

“No it’s.. It’s okay…”

She spoke softly and set her beer down. She was about to get off the couch, but you grabbed her wrist, holding her in place. You had to tell her. You couldn’t see her so upset any more, it was too painful. The blonde’s icy blues looked at you, confusion written on her face as she waited for you to proceed.

“Miranda I- the reason why I was so distant… I don’t know how to tell you.”

You took a deep breath. Miranda had moved your grip, holding your hand now. Her thumb softly rubbing over your knuckles, trying to help you feel calm. It just made you even more nervous. She cared so much. 

“The reason why I was so distant was… I am in love with you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for an answer but when none came you pulled your hand from her grip and covered your face.

“I- I have realised that I felt this way the day that asshole broke up with you… it hit me like a brick and… I didn’t want to tell you. You were so broken… you needed a friend not… that. I-I couldn’t be around you any more because it was just eating me up from the inside every time we spent time together. I had to distance myself because I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable… I didn’t want to- to take advantage of you I- I care too much… Miranda, I love you…”

Silence. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes but if you had looked up you would have seen Miranda's face. A bright blush had covered her face, ears and chest, eyes wide, staring at you with hope, with longing, with unspoken emotions. You loved her. She could be loved, someone, you really loved her. 

“I-I’m sorry… I’ll see myself out, please just forget-“

“No…”

You turned to look at her, taking in her features. She was… smiling. Not in a ‘making fun of you’ type of way, no, a genuine smile. Miranda moved closer, wrapping her arms around you and pulling you close, running her fingers through your hair as she pulled you against her body. Instinctively, your arms wrapped around the strong blonde, falling into her embrace, her scent, her soft breaths against your shoulder, falling into her. 

“Y-you’re not mad? Uncomfortable? Disgusted?”

Miranda pulled away to cup your face, wiping a tear from your cheek as she looked into your eyes.

“I could never. I love you too much.”

She whispered, smiling softly down at you. Your eyes widened. She… loved you?

“Miranda I-“

“Can I kiss you?”

You looked into her eyes, her icy blue orbs reflecting nothing but love, care and hope. You nodded, cupping her cheeks and gently tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Please!”

She leaned in, you felt her warm breath on your skin and then her soft, warm lips against yours. It was a perfect fit. Like the last piece in a puzzle. She completed you and in that moment all of your worries flew out the window. Miranda was gentle and careful. Her lips moved against yours with soft movements, and she made sure to hold you as if you were about to fall apart. She held you, she protected you. 

After a minute or two, she pulled away and smiled softly at you, pressing a gentle peck to your forehead. You smiled and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of her soft, warm lips against your forehead. You belonged here. In her arms, in her embrace. 

“After that night… I started realising how much you actually mean to me. Of course, it took a while for me to realise that what I felt for you was more than friendship. When you started distancing yourself, I was afraid… I thought you noticed. That I- somehow had shown too much, said too much… scared you off…” Miranda admitted and stroked your cheek gently. Keeping eye contact with you. You pressed a quick peck to her lips and the palm of her hand.

“You could never. I love you, Miranda.”

The blonde Constable smiled and pulled you into another embrace, leaning back against the couch and having you snuggle into her arms. Where you belonged.

“I wouldn’t want to be loved by anyone but you.”

-----

Taglist: @erinyaya @phexyce @aemilia19 @weemssapphic @gela123 @winterfireblond @Xxmecverxx @unicorniusfallapatorious @gwenistheloml @yourgaeyisshowing

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[moronkombat]

Hi :) I hope you're doing well. I was hoping if you could write pregnancy and dad headcanons for my hubby, Kenshi. He is ideal father material. I doubt Kenshi could truly settle down with his past coming back to haunt him. My man would stress 24/7.

tw: pregnancy

The pregnancy was unplanned and unexpected

Kenshi was not planning on have children anytime soon with all that is going on in his life

He always practiced safe sex or at least he thought he has but clearly it is not always foolproof

Your symptoms started quickly and you took a test immediately. The test, all the five after that didn't lie. You were pregnant

Telling Kenshi was difficult. Not only because of you nerves but because he is gone frequently. He isn't home when you find out nor is he home for the next couple following weeks

When he returns, Kenshi picks up on your nervousness rather quickly and he begins to pester you to tell him what's bothering you

He thinks you are so nervous because someone has threatened you or found out where you live but then you tell him you are pregnant and Kenshi loses all words

Standing there silently, he cannot move. He cannot speak. He cannot breath. Kenshi can only stand there and feel an emotion he cannot put the name to

It's only when he hears you crying does he act. He takes you into an embrace, cradling the crook of your neck as you cry

He is silent for awhile before he tells you that everything will be alright and that he will take of you and the baby

Kenshi wants to be there every moment of your pregnancy but you both know that is impossible but he still tries

While he may not be able to physically be there, he calls you frequently to check in on you. He will go through a great many burner phones in order to do so

He often worries about if you are on your feet too much, if you're getting enough to eat or if you are feeling sick. Kenshi wants nothing more than to be with you in those moments

To hold your hair back, as you suffer from the dreaded morning sickness or to rub your feet as they grow sore but it is not often he gets those opportunities

When he is home, you are not to lift a finger or be on your feet. He makes sure you are taken care of

He cooks all your meals and takes care of all the housework while he is home with you

Most of the time he cannot be there when you go to the doctor appointments but you often have him listen in over the phone

He is able to make it to one visit to the doctor and its when you find out the sex of the baby

Kenshi is happy with either sex and is mostly just wanting a healthy child and a heathy spouse

Things seem to be well but you enter labor early, about 2 weeks earlier than expected and you're rushed to the hospital

Kenshi is given word of your condition and, despite knowing he shouldn't, rushes to be with you

He doesn't care if someone sees him or if the Yakuza find out. All he cares about is being by your side when your child is born

It's a close call but he makes it and when he holds your baby in his arms, he actually sobs and drops to his knees. He's so happy and so full of love for this small and vulnerable infant

As a Father, he is largely off working and cannot be there often and he hates that

His office is full of pictures of you and your baby

He wants to know how the baby is doing and all the milestones they will go through so he calls and video chats as much as he can

You will put him on the phone with your baby and Kenshi talks to them so sweetly and loving

When Kenshi is home, he is constantly holding your baby. He just can't put them down and so he won't

He reads to them, plays with them and kisses them goodnight. At times he will fall asleep righting up against the crib where your baby is sleeping

Kenshi is a very affectionate father when he can be available but he is often not available for long periods of time

You make a scrapbook about Kenshi that you show and show to your child every day so that they may know him even if they cannot see him

[smallcloudes]

Gravity Falls Agere Headcanons

 Regressor!Dipper Headcanons

Tries to pretend he’s feeling older than he is (It always backfires)

Age range is usually 2-3, tries to play it off like he’s 5-6

Experiences verbal shutdowns, both partial and full blown silence

On multiple occasions he’s come sobbing to Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan and even sometimes+ Mabel because he regressed too deep to read his mystery novels 

he hates most kids books, they’re too simple for him and he finds them really boring 

Takes Grunkle Ford’s sweater everytime he regresses, even when he doesn’t realize he’s regressed he’ll just go and snatch it compulsively

Often tries to pretend he’s not regressed, always fails and is always surprised when others know he’s regressed (despite the fact that wearing Ford’s sweater is the most obvious tell-tale sign)

Has a meltdown whenever someone takes or he misplaces his hat, he only doesn’t when he takes it off himself or gives the other permission

Often sneaks into Ford’s bunker to figure out what Ford is working on (which is much harder when he can’t read), falls asleep halfway through almost every time

One time he drooled on one of the papers and ruined the page of notes then upon discovering this cried so hard he threw up, Ford wasn’t even mad and had copies of that page

Multiple times has run his own “experiments” with a complete disregard for his own safety

He takes off his hat and puts on safety goggles, but the safety goggles are a broken kids toy and he’s still wearing Ford’s sweater which is ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE on his tiny body

He always ends up breaking something or hurting himself (which always results in a lot of tears)

Very sensitive when regressed

Started regressing as a way to cope with his anxiety and paranoia, continued regressing to cope with literally everything that happened to them that summer, good God could you imagine going through that when you were 12???

Tries to be independent

Should not be

Like seriously, this kid cannot take care of himself and should not be trusted alone

Constantly sneaks off to prove he can be independent (he always proves he can’t)

 Will do anything to avoid talking about his regression outside of it

Regressor!Mabel Headcanons

Is not shy AT ALL about her regression

Age range is about 3-5

Never shuts up about being older than Dipper when regressed, he always pretends to not know what she’s talking about (in a multitude of ways)

Just as crafty when regressed as she is when not

Just a bit more clumsy and her crafts turn out a bit messier

She cries when they break

Very energetic

Extremely loud and talkative

No one understands her half the time but everyone always just goes along with it

Will not take no for an answer when she wants to play

Actually very responsible when regressed with full capability to be independent, she just chooses not to be

One time she ate an entire tub of glitter and threw up a literal rainbow of sparkles on Grunkle Stan in the middle of rough housing

One of the few times she actually had a full meltdown over something that wasn’t a craft breaking

Its extremely difficult to actually make her upset (again, besides the crafts thing)

She rarely has tantrums and meltdowns

Stubborn but for the most part a really obedient kid

Started regressing to cope with aging, continued regressing because that fear only strengthened over the summer and also EVERYTHING THEY WENT THROUGH AGAIN OH MY GOD

Thinks Grunkle Stan calls her Pumpkin a lot cause he really likes pumpkins

Everything she gives Stan when regressed has something to do with a pumpkin if not one on it

Stan was actually very indifferent to pumpkins before this started happening

He now actually does really like pumpkins because of Mabel

Considered Waddles her only caregiver before Stan and Ford discovered the twins regress

Still considers him one

Dipper used to be her primary caregiver before he started regressing himself which became an issue of if one regressed the other does too

Actually really does love being a big sister and looking after Dipper for Grunkle Stan and Ford for a little bit, even when she’s already regressed herself

She often overhears them discussing both needing to leave but not knowing what to do with Dipper and offers to take care of him

They never ask her to, she always volunteers

Caregiver!Grunkle Stan Headcanons

Approaches being a caregiver the same way he approaches being a Grunkle and guardian

Has a hard time softening himself when the twins are regressed

Which has caused many a problem where Dipper gets so sensitive when regressed

Tends to get a bit hot headed and gives harsher punishments

Is a lot more lenient

Often joins in on any chaos being created

More often than not it's joining in on Mabel's nonsense but there has been a few times where he joins in on Dippers experiments (The outcome being the same, something broke or someone got hurt and Dipper cried)

Pretends to be jealous of Waddles ‘being a caregiver’

Is genuinely a little confused by and jealous of Waddles ‘being a caregiver’

Tries to fight with Ford a lot less when he knows the twins are regressed

It’s proven to be incredibly difficult for him

There have been a few times when it proved to be too difficult and he consequently had to spend the rest of the day consoling and apologizing to the twins

Gets really into the games the kids make up, especially when he sees an opportunity to include violence

He WON’T go easy on them or let them win, they have to do so fair and square

This has led to more than one Dipper meltdown. His meltdowns change absolutely nothing about Stan’s behavior

The best storyteller ever. He does voices, big crazy hand motions, he puts his own spin on things, you could not ask for someone better

Because of this Dipper has gradually been going to Grunkle Stan a lot more for ‘Dip and Stan time’ as he calls it

Loves doing arts and crafts with the kids, especially if it leads to a new attraction for the shack

More than happy to load the twins up with sugar, conveniently always leaves them in Ford’s care before it really kicks in

Goes a little too far with rough housing often, he has been the cause of a need for many bandaids and many comfort cuddles

He genuinely doesn’t realize he’s going to far, he just gets really into it when he’s playing with Dipper and Mabel

He really does love them so much and wants to go all out for them (Not that he’ll ever say that tho)

More than once he has kicked out a customer for saying something rude or snarky about the twins behavior when they were regressed.

 One time Stan body slammed a man for calling them freaks (after having spotted them with pacifiers through the door from the shop to the house)

Caregiver!Grunkle Ford Headcanons

Is actually the most experienced with age regression out of all of them (from, yk, not being in that dimension for 30yrs)

Everyone thinks he’s the newest one to it out of all of them

He’s actually just that clueless about kids

Is excitedly waiting for the day Dipper actually asks to do an experiment with him

Dipper always does them alone or just observes Ford while he works, which secretly devastates Ford every time

Is a lot more patient and gives very light punishments

Is so much stricter, very worried about health and safety and rule following and will not deviate from the rules he has set in his mind

Comes across colder than he means to sometimes, especially when he’s super focused/distracted

Happily lets Dipper take his sweater

He secretly takes pictures every time and keeps one in his wallet

It legit makes him so so happy

Has a harder time playing with the twins

Is very happy to sit and color, read, or watch TV with them tho

Often pulls out board games and puzzles to do with the twins

He gets more into them than the kids do

“Analyzes” any arts and crafts Dipper and Mabel give him like they’re science journals or a paranormal anomaly before proudly hanging it on a corkboard in his bunker

He’s had to get 2 more corkboards to fit them all because he refuses to throw out a single one

Was genuinely super distraught when Dipper was so scared Ford would be mad at him for drooling on one of his pages of science notes

“He was terrified of me, Stanley, petrified! I don’t want him to be scared of me- He was just a little curious and got carried away, why would I be mad at him for that? Stanley, am I doing something wrong??”

He may or may not of cried a little bit over it

Tends to over explain and complicate answers to questions the kids have

It always leaves them with more questions than answers

He caught a cold once and let the twins take care of him and it was the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed

The soup they made him ended up giving him a stomach virus on top of it

It was definitely something Mabel put in

Often tries to coax the twins to regress so he can take care of them

He missed out on a lot of when they were younger, again, yk, after not being in this dimension for 30+ years. He really wants to make up for what he’s lost

One time, he passed out in the middle of braiding Mabels hair (They were supposed to be doing makeovers)

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

OMG IMAGINE DOINF LIKE A COP AND CRIMINCAL RP WITH GEPARD... like omg bro..but like gepard is kinda subby 😕😕 he would be so flustered

no bc you are so right, poor lil' geppie would be so flustered as he plays the role of a cop interrogating a particularly difficult criminal who keeps teasing and diverting the conversation away from the interrogation. it took quite a bit to convince him to even roleplay this sort of scenario, seeing as how this is essentially what he does on the daily for his actual job. but you plead and beg, trying to convince him that it'd be fun, and he finally relents, but only after you promise him that you'll use the safe word if it gets too intense.

gepard doesn't expect you to suddenly yank away the supposed control that he held in this made-up scenario. suddenly he is the one being interrogated, although not in any way that he expected. you're taunting him left and right as you bend him over the desk being used for your little play, cooing at him for enjoying being violated by some criminal. he's supposed to be exacting justice and yet here he is, getting toyed around with like some kind of whore. the whole time, he's as hard as can be, cute little veins pulsing all over his cock as you fondle and squeeze him all over.

"what's wrong officer? can't you even do your job right?" you curl your index and ring fingers right into his prostate, grinning oh so cruelly as the once stoic and hardened officer sobs and chokes out moans. his cute cock is left pressed against the edge of the desk, thick n gooey cum left to ooze down into a puddle on the floor below. he's so pathetically cute. "man, i wonder what all the other cops would say if they found out you like being violated by criminals. maybe they might even want a turn."

upon seeing him freeze up and whine feebly in protest, you let out an amused laugh—he tightened up significantly around your fingers when you suggested that, how cute—as you raise a hand before bringing it down on his cute ass. gepard shrieks, tongue lolling out like a dog as his balls clench up. he cums just like that, the sticky puddle on the floor gaining more mass. "aww don't worry officer, your secret is safe with me. tell ya what, why don't you let me go and let me do my usual business, but you'll let me violate you when you catch me. sound good?"

"n-no.. this sort of thing..! i won't do—ughk!—you can't..!"

you frown in feigned hurt, though on the inside you're feeling anything but that. gepard is really enjoying this sort of play a bit too much—guess you were really right about him, he really enjoys getting violated.

"oh well, guess we might as well make the most of our time together here then♡"

[homelanderbutbig]

You're Just The Right Size (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2120 words. Hurt/comfort and fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander feels self-conscious about his height, and you make him feel better with expert big boy appreciation.

Homelander has a meeting today with Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought. You personally have never met Mr. Edgar and barely know anything about him, but you have noticed Homelander's anxiety spike whenever they have their little 'discussions'. Somehow, this man not only shows no fear of Homelander, but managed to turn the tables and actually scare the giant supe. On days like these, whatever words he exchanges with Mr. Edgar tend to leave him a bit more gloomy than usual, so you have scheduled in to get off work early to spend more time making him feel better.

When you enter Homelander's penthouse, you call out for him but hear no response. Perplexed, you drop your belongings off at the entrance and start walking inside, expecting to see him moping in the living room. Instead, all you see is his large body huddled into a ball on the couch with his back facing you. You can hear him sniffling and trying to stifle his sobs in your presence; even in times like this he still wants to uphold his bravado and not be completely vulnerable in front of you.

"Oh, honey," you breathe. You've never seen him get this distressed before, and it pains you not knowing how long he has been up here by himself. You climb up onto the oversized couch, nestling yourself into the edge by the armrest. His head is buried in the corner, leaving you enough of a sliver to sit down without being knocked off by his massive back and shoulders.

When you try to console Homelander by placing your hand on his shoulder, you are disheartened when he jerks away from you. Usually he will do anything to get closer to your contact, but right now it appears like he doesn't want anything to do with you. However, you are not going to just leave him alone to collapse further into his sadness. He deserves better.

Again, you put your hand on his shoulder, refusing to back down when he attempts to shake you off. After a while, he huffs in an annoyed acceptance that you aren't going to give up on him, even if it's what he really wanted all along. Gingerly, you begin massaging him as you gauge where he is mentally.

"Mr. Edgar hurt you pretty bad?" you ask, trying to choose your words carefully, as the last thing you want is to trouble him further. When Homelander gives you a tentative nod, you move your hand from his shoulder up to pet the back of his head.

"I'm so sorry sweetie," you try to cheer him up, combing your fingers through his hair. "You know I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this together."

Seeming to appreciate your words, Homelander pushes himself back slightly to angle his head into your lap. You still aren't able to see his face as he has buried it into your chest, but you can feel from the wetness growing on your shirt how much he has been crying.

"Can you tell me what he said?" you inquire. You want him to open up and relieve the heaviness he's carrying in his heart, hoping your soothing can keep him grounded.

"H-he… h-he s-said…" Homelander stutters, tensing as he struggles to let his walls down. There is so much that he wants to tell you, to bare his soul about everything Edgar told him that's left him so insecure. But right now he finds it so difficult to talk, trapped in this mute headspace that's stopping his mouth from forming the sentences that are swirling around in his mind. Instead, he settles on getting out the simplest sentence, and what bothered him the most. "I-I… I-I-I'm a-a-a… m-m-monst-ter…" he manages to whisper before breaking down, the weight of those words hitting him like a freight train.

You are unsure of what you can say in this situation, powerless to stop this colossal mountain of a man from bawling and hyperventilating in your lap. He is desperate for any form of tactile comfort, but he still refuses to touch you with his gigantic, destructive hands. Despite knowing you have no fear of him, he is terrified that he will injure you if he attempts to hold you right now. Instead, he wraps his arms around himself in a pathetic simulation of a hug.

Regardless of your own feelings of helplessness, you decide to hug his head tightly while you let him work through his emotions. You bring your heartbeat closer to his ears while you breathe deeply in and out, doing your best to help him focus on you. Thankfully, after a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing this seems to work as his shaky breaths begin to slow down and match your steady ones.

Once he has calmed down enough, or at least ran out of tears, you give him a light tap on his head to signal him to separate himself from his hiding place and look at you with his red, puffy eyes. As if he is completely in sync with you, he understands what you're after and slowly flips over onto his back and moves further up onto the couch to rest his head on the armrest. This allows you to prop yourself up on Homelander's abs, finally letting you get a clear look at him. He looks like he's been through the wringer, eyes saturated and face physically drained, with his hands clenched tight by his sides. The trauma of his childhood has broken through the armoured exterior he's tried to hard to maintain, and now its fragility is entirely exposed to you.

"You aren't a monster, baby," you reassure him, leaning closer to stroke his cheek. "You might be a little larger than most people, but that just means there's more of you for me to love. There's nothing about you that's scary."

"Can I show you?" you ask, smiling warmly as you sit back upright. Although he is apprehensive at how you could possibly make him feel better about being a giant freak, he cautiously nods. He doesn't want to disappoint you, especially if you already have this speech prepared.

"Well… for starters, you have these lovely big hands," you say, picking up one of Homelander's hands. You take your time to run your hand down his large fingers, each one longer than your entire hand. When you look up at him, he is thoroughly engrossed by your every movement, unable to tear his vision away for a split second.

"They're the perfect size to pick me up with," you continue, gesturing for him to turn his hand over so you can make the same motions along his palm. "They're so warm, soft… and gentle," you note, drawing little hearts along the creases.

"And then you have these big arms," you proceed, brushing your hand up from his wrist to his bicep, which is practically the same circumference as your head. "The right size for me to fit in so snugly," you comment, giving his bicep a firm squeeze. "For the world's best hugs."

"And your big pecs," you detail as you pat Homelander's chest, the length of which is wider across than your shoulders. "They're the best size for me to rest my head on," you remark as you feel along his pecs with your palms, pressing into the soft cushion from his suit's padding. "For first-rate cuddles."

"And your big shoulders," you tell him, moving your hands up to lightly knead his trapezius muscles. His shoulders are twice the length of your own, not even including his eagle pauldrons. "They're the proper size to wrap around when you hold me," you proclaim, lifting your hands up to his neck to caress his jawline with your thumbs.

"And then you have this big head," you say, continuing to raise your hands up from Homelander's jaw to his hair. "It's got a lot of great things about it."

"You have such beautiful hair, which I can't stop combing my fingers through," you explain as you run your nails through his undercut, causing him to whimper. He really can't stop himself from making such happy little noises when you scratch his head like that; you just have this power over him.

"Your big eyes," you add, moving your hands down to his temples. You feel Homelander stiffen slightly as you stop his favourite head scratches, but he quickly softens when you delicately wipe the remaining tears away from his eyes. "That never fail to make me smile, because they always look at me with such love that I can't help but feel happy."

"This big nose", you go on, lowering your hands down to his cheeks. When you rub your nose against his, you can feel him fighting not to use his full strength to push completely into you. "It never forgets to let me know that it appreciates my cooking… or my choice of shampoo", you giggle, kissing the tip of his nose.

"And finally, your big mouth," you state, at last resting your hands back down to Homelander's jaw. "Sometimes it says some really stupid stuff. And sometimes it can be really mean," you reflect, ghosting your fingers over his lip to feel them tremble at your featherlight touches. "But it also tells me how much you love me, and it always makes me feel like I'm the most important person in the world," you reveal, subsequently leaning in for a kiss.

Homelander closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose, letting go of the tension he was reluctantly holding onto as he becomes consumed by your affection. Absentmindedly, his hands shift from his sides up to your back, finally allowing himself to hold onto your tiny body.

It doesn't even register in his mind anymore that your frame is so much smaller than him, or how his lips are twice the size of yours. Right now, all he can observe is how easily you've silenced the negative voices in his head, just by being yourself. Truly, you are the guardian swaddling this lost little boy in your blanket of love, protecting him from the vicious beasts that want nothing more than to wound him more than he already has been.

When you eventually break from your kiss, Homelander's gaze flutters open to reveal how dilated his pupils have become from your heartfelt praises. At long last, his body feels like it's been released from the all of the internal torment he was holding onto from Edgar's words, melted into a malleable dough from your compassion.

"It doesn't matter what everyone else has to say," you declare, still cupping his face. His raw eyes are utterly fixated on you, soaking in every word of your admiration. "They're all wrong. They don't know how special you are."

"You're just the right size. My perfect, big boy," you promise him, giving him a gentle peck on his forehead. You leave one hand on his cheek while you gently stroke the top of his hair with the other. "Who are you, Homelander?"

"I… I-I'm your… b-big boy," he mumbles, desperate to hear more validation. He is doing his best not to blink, refusing to miss even a millisecond of your adoration.

"That's right", you hum, smiling at this sad child masquerading as an intimidating eight foot tall superhuman. "You are my big boy. And I think you deserve to know how good you are, right?"

Swallowing thickly, he nods at your honey-laced request, trying not to seem too enthusiastic. He wonders why he even had doubts that you would make him feel better about himself, you always know precisely what he needs.

"Mmmmph…" he sighs soundly when you resume scratching his scalp, purposefully giving him the most attention in his favourite spots. Chuckling, you feel your body vibrating from the deep purring emanating from Homelander's chest, a telltale sign that he has become putty in your hands. He grips onto you tightly, not enough to hurt you, but just to reassure himself that you aren't going anywhere.

When he's in this vulnerable state, you could ask him to do anything for you and he would do it without any hesitation. He would bring the moon down from space, steal the Eiffel Tower from France, rob the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London, or even wipe any city you desire off the map. And yet, he knows you never would. You aren't placating him for selfish reasons, it's purely because you love him and want him to be happy.

And one day, Homelander wishes he could find a way to show you how much he loves you too.

[mikareo]

⌗ SEASONS OF LOVE ₊ ˖ ་. a 呪術廻戦 miniseries

“ ࣭⸰ ★ HOPELESS ROMANTIC ; geto x fem reader ⠀ ꒰ . . episode two ! ꒱ . . . word count; 1.1k ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ᯇ it's not a hot-girl summer

⊹ ⠀⠀ geto suguru was having such a great day...until you knock on his door at 6:00pm begging for help with your boy troubles.

contains; geto suguru x fem reader, university (year 2) au, fluff, swearing, friends to lovers, love triangle

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀pm or send ask to join/be removed from taglist,, ⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀link to miniseries masterlist

"what the fuck are you doing here?"

geto thinks this is the first time ever, that the two of you have been within six feet of each other without gojo around to make conversation...and it's weird. he didn't even know that you knew where he lived, let alone would come knocking on his door right before he was about to leave to get some korean barbecue chicken. he's barely moved in yet, with the summer coming to a close as campus begins to open up again, and you're surprisingly the first familiar face he's been able to see. yippee, lucky him. man, he really wants some honey garlic chicken, right now.

it's not that he doesn't like you. he thinks you're fine. you're normal. you don't cause any trouble unless you're with gojo, and you might be more similar to geto than one may think— but hanging out with you has never really been a thing. the only notable thing that you do have in common is gojo; and unfortunately, that's the very reason why you're here.

"satoru made a hinge profile." you sigh.

who cares?

"okay? he's satoru, that's not unusual." geto assumes this conversation will be a waste of time, but he wants to hear you out. he's nice like that. "is there a bigger issue?"

the look in your eyes tell him that there is, and within the ten seconds he takes to gaze at them, he finds himself lost. just for a moment, he's standing on a cliffside, gazing out at the open sea, with a sunset of colors painted before him. he's understanding your emotions from a painter's point of view, noticing each blended shade watercolored onto your irises with gentle brush strokes. there's loneliness, hopelessness, helplessness...and most significantly...there's love.

"you're in love with him, aren't you?"

without thinking, he moves aside to give you space to enter his room. he knows that this conversation will be difficult for you and wants to give you the privacy to vent in quiet; after all, it's the least he can do.

"how are you in love with satoru? he's like a walking std." geto thought you were the one girl who wasn't in love with his best friend. it seems he was wrong. "there's a ton of other guys on campus to go out with. why don't you do that thing people talk about online...the...what is it? hot girl summer?"

you groan and hug his pillow to your chest. when did you get on his bed? "i don't want a hot girl summer anymore, geto."

"i want a satoru summer."

that sounds like something out of his nightmares. the thought of gojo invading his every day and shadowing him from the sun is almost nausea inducing— however, geto didn't let you into his safe space to judge you. he let you in so he could listen.

"i'm just so tired of watching every other girl go on dates with him, it's not fair! why does he want them? none of them actually know him. they don't know his favorite stores or how he likes his eggs cooked! they don't see the face he makes when he's actually upset, and they definitely can't tell the difference between his fake upset look and his real upset look! i know him better than anyone— including you— and i don't understand why he doesn't love me like i love him! —and now this new class of freshmen girls get to have him? no! it's like he doesn't even see me as an option, he just looks through me. i don't exist in any romantic category in his brain, it's bullshit."

as your tears soak his favorite throw pillow, geto takes a moment to piece together everything you cried. with the voice cracks and small sobs, it was difficult for him to follow along, but he believes he understands the main point. you love gojo. gojo doesn't love you. simple.

geto would be lying to say that gojo's just a coward and actually does want you back. he knows firsthand that his best friend has never ever mentioned you in any romantic way. to gojo, you're just another best friend that he can rely on when he's being an absolute dick— which is a shitty situation for your sake, but you deal with it anyways just as geto does.

"y'know what i think?" he leans against his bed frame, gently tilting your head up to look at him. "i think that he might not be right for you. i mean, if you feel like he doesn't see you, he's not the one."

you bite your lip, struggling to hold in your tears. "but he is. i know he is. i need to be better for him."

now that's just not right.

"no." his hand is caressing your face. the position is very intimate and if anyone walked in they'd definitely assume you're a couple, but geto isn't aware of that. he just wants to make sure that you're going to be okay. "you shouldn't have to change yourself for satoru of all people—"

"but i do need to!" the volume of your voice surprises him, causing him to jolt back and let go of your cheek. "i just need more experience to be the kind of woman he likes. i need to actually put myself out there, i mean, i never do that. obviously he isn't going to like me if i don't even know how to flirt." you don't know how to flirt?

"you're joking right?"

"why would i be joking?"

"you seriously can't get a guy?"

"...i don't want to answer that."

ohmygod.

"alright," geto clears his throat and sighs the deepest sigh in his entire life, "i'm going to do you a favor and take you on some dates for practice. nothing more than that; just a few dinners, maybe some coffee shops, and if you're lucky i'll even throw in a bookstore or two. nothing romantic, though. i just want to be a good friend."

there's a small smile creeping on your lips. "are you serious?"

it's kind of cute. "dead serious."

and suddenly your arms are around him and geto thinks he might lose consciousness with the lack of oxygen he's getting. you give good hugs.

"thank you! thank you!" you're excited again and he's happy to make you laugh. your crying face was too much for him to handle. you don't deserve to feel sad, you're too sweet for that. "i'm so excited! i can't wait!"

what has he gotten himself into...

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