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writetheidea · 22 hours ago

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In the Quiet of Us

Hello, I had another idea for a fan fiction. This one was more of a spur-of-the-moment idea, but I hope you still find it enjoyable. As always, I have anonymous ask available for those who would like to express their opinion anonymously.

Pairing: Lando Norris x named!female character

Plot: Lando Norris learns to navigate his girlfriend's hesitation with physical affection, patiently helping her open up and show love in her own quiet, touch-starved way.

Tag: fluff.

Word count: 1697

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

The girlfriend has a name as I wasn’t able to write this without a name, I apologize, I made it a shorter name so it can be skimmed over. There is no physical description of them.

Lando Norris had always been an affectionate person, and anyone close to him would tell you the same. Whether it was a warm hug after a tough day or a playful nudge to break the silence, Lando found comfort in touch. Friends and family alike knew he’d be the first to throw an arm around your shoulders, squeeze your hand for reassurance, or wrap you in a bear hug when you needed it most. For Lando, physical closeness wasn’t just a part of life—it was his language, one he was fluent in and spoke without hesitation.

But when it came to Evie, Lando soon realized that physical affection wasn’t something she was used to. She wasn’t cold or distant—quite the opposite, actually—but there was a quietness to her, a shyness that kept her hands tucked in her lap rather than reaching out. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be close to him; he could see the way her eyes softened when he touched her, how her breath would hitch when he leaned in a little too close. But there was always a hesitation, a space she kept between them.

Their first date had been sweet and simple, a quiet dinner followed by a walk in the park. At one point, he’d offered her his arm, hoping she’d take it. But instead, she’d simply smiled and slipped her hands into her pockets. At the end of the night, as they said goodbye, he leaned in for a kiss. She blushed a deep pink, her hands clutching her purse as though it was the only thing keeping her steady. Her hesitation caught him off guard. He’d pulled back, a soft smile on his face to cover the moment’s awkwardness, but she didn’t move away. It was as though she wanted to be closer but didn’t know how to reach for him.

As the weeks passed, Lando began to notice the small ways Evie responded to his touch. She wouldn’t reach for his hand, but she’d linger if he held it. She wouldn’t initiate a hug, but once he pulled her into his arms, she’d hold on tight, pressing her face into his chest like she was grounding herself in his warmth. If he brushed her cheek with his thumb or let his fingers graze hers, her cheeks would flush, her lips parting in a soft, unsure smile. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be close—it was just that she wasn’t sure how to be.

It stung a little at first. Lando had always been so open with his affection, so ready to give, but he quickly realized that Evie just wasn’t used to it. And as he got to know her, he could see how deeply she cared for him in all the ways that didn’t involve touch. She’d make him laugh until his stomach hurt, stay up late just to talk about their days, remember every small detail he shared with her. He saw kindness in her every action, even in her hesitance. And whenever he held her, no matter how shy she seemed, she never pulled away.

She wasn’t rejecting him; she just wasn’t sure how to express her feelings through touch. But that didn’t stop him from being patient, from offering her the space she needed while still trying to show her how much he cared in his own way.

Then, as the months passed, Lando started noticing something else. A pattern, little signs that showed she was trying to be close in her own quiet ways. She’d poke his shoulder after a joke or hold her hand up for a high-five with a shy smile, only to linger a second too long. These gestures became more frequent—small touches, like a light brush of her fingers over his, the faintest hint of a hand on his arm. It dawned on him, in the sweetest way, that this was Evie’s version of physical affection. A high-five, a gentle nudge, an extra glance over her shoulder as he watched her laugh with his family. Each small touch felt like her way of reaching out, even if it didn’t look like much to anyone else.

And Lando loved it. Every high-five, every poke on his shoulder felt like a step forward, like she was learning how to show what she felt in her own way. He noticed that these gestures would come at the sweetest moments—after they’d had a laugh, or when she was watching him with that soft, shy smile of hers, or during the quiet times when they were just being near each other. He realized that Evie wasn’t distant at all. She was just... a little touch-starved, perhaps too used to holding back.

So he decided he’d help make up for all the love she hadn’t had, all the closeness she never felt she could ask for. He started pulling her close more often, wrapping her in warm hugs, brushing kisses over her temple whenever he could. She’d always hesitate at first, that little spark of nervousness in her eyes, but then she’d melt into his arms as if they were the safest place in the world. And every time, he’d whisper soft words of affirmation, making sure she knew how much he loved her, how happy he was just to hold her.

---

One afternoon, while they were sitting together in silence, Lando reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Evie’s ear. She looked at him, her eyes soft and a little uncertain, and he couldn’t help but smile. He liked the way she looked at him, like she was always just on the verge of saying something but couldn’t quite find the words.

“You’re so cute when you blush,” he teased gently, his fingers brushing over her cheek.

Evie turned pink, her gaze dropping to her hands. “I... I’m not good at this, Lando,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Being close... I’m just not sure how to... I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lando’s heart ached at the sadness in her voice. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. “Evie, you don’t have to know how,” he said softly, his voice filled with love. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me love you. Let me hold you.”

She met his gaze, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, and slowly, she leaned into his touch, allowing him to pull her close. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, as if he were the only steady thing in her world.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice so soft, he almost couldn’t hear it. “For being patient with me.”

“You’re worth every second,” Lando murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. He meant it with all of his heart.

---

As time passed, Evie began to open up in small, quiet ways. She started to initiate small gestures, things she’d never done before. She would reach for his hand when they watched a movie, her fingers gently curling around his. She would rest her head on his shoulder, her breath soft against his neck. Each small touch was a quiet declaration of her love, her way of showing him that she was learning how to trust in the closeness they shared.

One morning, as Lando was making breakfast, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind. He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the warmth of her embrace. But then he relaxed, covering her hands with his and smiling as his heart swelled. They stood there for a while, wrapped in each other, and for the first time, Lando felt like they had finally found a rhythm together—one that didn’t need words, one that was just about being there for each other.

Each day brought something new—a gentle touch, a small kiss, a hesitant hug. She would press a kiss to his cheek, rest her head on his chest as they lay together, ask him to hold her on days when she felt vulnerable. Every gesture made his heart swell, and he made sure she knew how much he cherished each one. With every forehead kiss, every squeeze of her hand, he let her know that her love was a gift, never a burden.

---

In the quiet moments that followed, Lando never stopped showing Evie how much he loved her. With every soft kiss on her forehead, every gentle squeeze of her hand, he let her know that her love was a gift, one he treasured deeply. And in return, Evie began to understand that love didn’t need to be loud or perfect—it just needed to be there, in every little gesture, in every quiet moment they shared.

One quiet evening, after a long day, they found themselves on the couch, wrapped up in each other and a warm blanket. The TV played softly in the background, but neither of them paid much attention. Evie was nestled against Lando’s side, her fingers tracing slow patterns over his hand, her head resting against his shoulder. He felt her breath even out, and he looked down to find her gaze soft and peaceful, a contented look he was coming to cherish. It was a peaceful silence, one that spoke volumes.

After a while, Evie lifted her head and looked up at him, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Do you think I’ll ever be as good at this as you are?” she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Lando gave her hand a gentle squeeze, smiling at her with a warmth that held no expectation, only love. “You’re already everything I need, Evie,” he said simply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just as you are.”

She leaned back against him, her fingers curling around his as she closed her eyes, content. And for the first time, they didn’t need words to feel how much they meant to each other. They had found their own way, and it was perfect.

In that silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, they both knew that love could be quiet, soft, and yet, more than enough.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fic #ln4 fanfic #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader

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hvnyrt · 2 days ago

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Voice in the Wind - ALTERNATE ENDING

JASON TODD X READER

I have never really written angst before, and I was really happy with the way my last work came out, but I couldn't help but want the reader and Jason to end up together in the end ;’) So I wrote a quick alternate ending to the same work, a happy ending this time, enjoy!

SUMMARY: Jason has been struggling with the idea of a relationship, fighting inner battles with himself constantly, you convince him to open up.

The rooftop of a Gotham skyscraper was cold beneath Jason Todd’s boots. His breath formed small clouds in the air, the city’s ever-present hum a background noise to his thoughts. He stood facing the edge, arms crossed, eyes scanning the streets below. It was late — or early, depending on how you looked at it — and the city was bathed in a sickly orange glow from the streetlights. Gotham was always awake, like a predator that never rested, and Jason… Jason was just another hunter in its maze of shadows.

He was trying to focus. ‘Focus, Todd,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t be weak. Stay sharp.’ But there was a problem. Your face kept slipping into his mind. No matter how hard he tried to shove it away, there you were again, with that crooked smile and those damn eyes that could cut straight through his walls.

Your voice rang in his ears. He hated your voice because it followed him everywhere, like an earworm he couldn’t get rid of. And your name. He hated your name because it made him feel like he could say it, like he could speak it aloud and claim it, and he didn’t want to claim anything. Not You.

"She’s just a distraction," he muttered under his breath, the words lost in the wind. "Just a damn distraction."

Except you werent. He knew it.

He didn’t know how you had got under his skin, but you had. It had started innocently enough: a few random meetings while he was on patrol, a conversation here and there. But then something shifted. Something he couldn’t control, couldn’t shake. It wasn’t that he wanted to care about you; he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when he knew better, when he was haunted by the ghosts of his past mistakes. People like him didn’t get to have things like that. People like him didn’t get to have… normal.

It was so fucking frustrating.

"Stupid." Jason spat the word out as if it could wash away the thoughts, the feelings he didn’t want to deal with. There was no place for feelings in the world he lived in. It was all blood and violence, adrenaline and fear, and you… you were none of that. You were calm. Grounded. Real. You made him feel like he wasn’t constantly running from something.

Nope. Not happening.

"Jason?"

The voice broke through his internal tirade, familiar and warm, cutting through the cold like a blade. Jason didn’t turn around. Didn’t even flinch. But his heart did a strange little lurch. He hated that it did, but it did.

There you were, standing a few feet away, your arms wrapped around yourself to shield against the Gotham night. You didn’t even seem to notice how out of place you were up here — on this rooftop, so far above the city you loved but could never truly understand. You weren't like him. Never would be.

"You shouldn’t be here," he said, his tone as dismissive as he could manage. "Go home, It’s dangerous up here."

Your eyes flickered with that same mixture of concern and defiance he was growing all too familiar with. "And I’m guessing you’re worried about me?" you said, your voice laced with quiet amusement.

Jason’s lip curled slightly, though it wasn’t a smile. More like a reflex. “I worry about everyone, you're no different.” He said flatly, his back still turned.

But even as he said it, the doubt crept in. You had a way of doing that — making him second-guess every cynical, hardened part of himself that wanted to pretend he didn’t care. But he didn’t let it show. He never did.

"I’m not helpless." you said softly, stepping a little closer, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating off you. "You don’t need to protect me. You don't have to worry me. Just please, tell me what's on your mind. Talk to me. Let me in." You wanted him so bad to just admit that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. You tried too hard to get him to open up to you, to get him to see what your relationship could be. He never listened.

The words hit him harder than they should have. He wanted to argue, to push you away again. You didn’t understand. You didn’t get what the world was really like, what it could do to someone like him. Someone who had already been destroyed once, who didn’t want to give it a second chance.

Instead, he just shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I’m not your protector. Just someone who knows better."

You raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "So you’re telling me I shouldn’t be out here, too, but you’re not protecting me?"

Jason didn’t answer. His gaze drifted away from her, back to the city lights, to the shadows below. But he didn’t walk away. He never did.

"You really think I can’t handle myself?" Your voice was quieter now, and for a moment, it almost sounded like you were teasing. Almost.

Jason let out a breath, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "You think you’re the only one who can handle themselves?" He turned his head just enough to catch her gaze. "This place doesn’t make you stronger. It makes you smarter. And if you’re not smart enough to get the hell out of it, you’ll get crushed. And that’s not something I’m willing to let happen."

The words left his mouth sharper than he’d intended, but he couldn’t stop them now. He never could when it came to you.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at him with those damn eyes that felt like they saw straight through his bullshit. Then, slowly, you took a step closer, not intimidated, but calm.

"Jason, you don’t have to pretend with me. I’m not going anywhere."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, though he’d never admit it. "I’m not pretending," he muttered, too quickly, and too defensively.

The city stretched out beneath them, vast and indifferent, like a black sea dotted with the flickering lights of a thousand lives he would never touch. Jason stood there, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched. You were still beside him, too close for comfort, your presence a constant reminder of everything he couldn’t afford to feel.

Focus, he told himself. Don’t let her in. Don’t let her do this to you.

But it was already too late.

You were right. He was pretending.

Jason’s jaw tightened at the thought, and he could feel the familiar coldness creeping in — the walls he had built so carefully around himself, the ones that were starting to crack and crumble under your quiet, persistent gaze. The feeling of wanting to reach for you, of wanting to say the things that scared him more than anything else in this broken city, gnawed at him like a sickness.

But no. He couldn’t do it. Not to you. Not again.

"You don’t get it," Jason said, his voice rougher than he meant it to be. He didn’t look at you, but he could feel you staring at him, that soft gaze that always seemed to see straight through him. "This isn’t… this isn’t some fairy tale. You can’t just waltz in here and fix me. I’m not… I’m not someone you can save. You don’t know what it’s like, and you never will."

He finally turned to face you, his eyes burning with something he couldn’t even name. "I’m dangerous. And you think you can handle me? You think you can be around me and still come out unscathed? You have no idea what this world does to people like us."

You didn’t back down. Of course you didn’t. You never did. Instead, you stepped closer, her voice low but steady. "I know enough, Jason. I know you’re scared. You don’t have to push me away—"

"Stop," Jason cut you off, his voice sharp, almost desperate. He took a step back, as if your proximity was suffocating him. "Stop pretending like you know me. Like you understand anything about me."

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Jason, I—"

"I’m not the guy you think I am!" He didn’t shout, but his voice trembled with the raw emotion he refused to show. "I’m not the guy you can fix. You think I don’t care about you? That I don’t—" He stopped himself, the words lodged in his throat like broken glass. He could already feel the heat in his chest, the thumping of his heart, the same damn pain that had been there since he came back from the dead.

His fists clenched tighter. "I’m not your fucking hero. I’m a killer. A broken, fucked-up, damaged thing, and you don’t want to get close to that."

The words came out in a rush, desperate, but also… final. His eyes were wild now, the storm inside him too strong to ignore, the war he’d been fighting with himself spilling out in a way he hadn’t intended.

You stood there, silent for a moment, your face unreadable. Then your expression softened, a mixture of hurt and understanding flickering behind your eyes.

"I’m not trying to fix you," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the tension crackling in the air between them. "I’m just trying to be here. I’m trying to be someone you don’t have to push away."

Jason didn’t respond right away. He couldn’t. The words felt too raw, too close to something real. And that scared him more than anything.

"You don’t understand," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You can’t understand. I can’t let you in. Not like this. Not after everything."

He took another step back, further into the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest. Every instinct in him screamed to get away from you, to run, to push you out of his life before you were swallowed up by the darkness he carried with him.

"Jason," your voice was quiet now, soft, like you were trying to reach him through the thick walls he had built. "Please."

But he couldn’t do it. Not for you.

Jason shook his head, more to himself than to you. He turned his back on you, the weight of his decision heavy in the pit of his stomach. His feet moved automatically, the thought of staying with you—of letting you see him, really see him—was too much to bear.

Before he could even reach the edge of the rooftop, he heard your voice again, fragile but clear.

"You don’t have to do this alone."

He froze. For a second, everything inside him wanted to turn around, to reach for you, to tell you how much he wanted to believe that. How much he wanted to let you in. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let anyone in.

Jason's gaze lingered on the skyline, the weight of the city pressing down on him. His fists were still clenched, his jaw set tight, but inside, a storm was brewing, one that was just as chaotic as the one in the streets below. His heart was a mess of confusion and fear, and even though he wanted to push you away — needed to push you away — something about your quiet presence beside him made it feel impossible.

When you spoke again, your voice was gentle, almost like a whisper, yet it cut through the thick air between you with the clarity of truth. "You don't have to do this alone, Jason."

His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, he could barely breathe. He’d heard those words before, but never with the kind of sincerity that made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the universe. That maybe, just maybe, there was someone who saw through his walls, someone who wasn’t afraid of the darkness he carried.

He shook his head, his voice rough, trying to hold onto the hardness that kept him safe. "I told you, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like."

"I don’t need to," you replied softly. "I just need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. Not if you let me stay."

Jason’s heart pounded in his chest, the words stirring something deep inside of him, something that scared him more than anything. He wanted to say something — push you away, explain why this couldn’t happen, why he couldn’t let you in.

But the words stuck in his throat.

You took a step closer, not backing down, but not rushing him either. And for the first time, in the midst of all the noise inside his head, he realized that you weren’t asking him to fix himself. You were just asking him to be real. To stop pretending. To let you in.

Without thinking, without even fully knowing what he was doing, Jason reached out, his hand hovering just inches from yours. The proximity felt like a tug, a pull he couldn’t ignore. You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you stood there, looking at him with those eyes that had always been so damn patient, so damn sure.

And in that moment, something inside Jason broke open — a crack in the walls that had kept him safe for so long. He didn’t need to pretend anymore.

He moved before he could stop himself.

One step, then two, and suddenly, he was close enough to feel your breath against his skin, close enough that he could see the way your lips parted slightly, as though you were holding your own breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

And then, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of you, Jason closed the gap.

His lips brushed against yours in a slow, tentative kiss, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pressed any harder. But you didn’t pull away. Instead, your hand reached up, cupping the side of his face, and you kissed him back, steady and sure.

Jason’s heart skipped a beat, his mind racing, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. The tension that had held him captive for so long unraveled, piece by piece, until all that was left was this — you, here with him, unafraid.

He kissed you deeper this time, a soft but desperate need in the way his mouth met yours. The world felt a little less heavy, like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to carry the weight of it all on his own anymore.

When the kiss finally broke, Jason’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing in the same air, your hearts syncing in a way that made everything else fade into the background. He didn’t say anything at first. He couldn’t. But the words he didn’t have to speak were already there — in the way his hands found your waist, in the way his body relaxed against yours.

“I’m scared,” he whispered, his voice rough with the admission. "Scared I’m not… enough. That I’m too broken for anyone to be here. To be what you need."

You leaned into him, your arms wrapping around him, grounding him with the warmth of your touch. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me, Jason. That’s more than enough.”

His chest tightened at your words, the sincerity of them striking deep. He wasn’t used to hearing that — wasn’t used to anyone seeing him for who he really was, not the mask he wore to survive, not the monster he sometimes thought he was.

But you did.

He let out a breath, the weight of everything in him finally beginning to lift. “I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jason closed his eyes, his heart a little lighter than before. Maybe he didn’t have to have all the answers. Maybe he didn’t have to be the hero, or the villain, or the broken man he always saw in the mirror.

Maybe he just needed to be someone who didn’t have to face the world alone.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jason realized that he wasn’t as lost as he thought. Not anymore.

For the first time in a long time, he was ready to face whatever came next.

And he was ready to face it with you.

#jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fluff #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #batfamily #batboys #jasontodd #jason todd angst #jason todd fic #jason todd fanfic

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more-hysteria-things · 2 days ago

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BEGGING FOR SOME LIKE JACK FLUFF FROM LIKE A ROUGH DAY ON SET AND HIM JUST BEING SWEET TO US!! (my first scenario🥳)

ROUGH DAY

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jack champion x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: it’s one of those days on set, and jack is not having it. even worse that it’s his birthday, the day when it’s supposed to be fun and carefree. then, you come along to truly show how much he means to you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none! just tooth rotting fluff :)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,224

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: FIRST JACK FIC LFG.

also, since this is my other account for non-sturniolo fics i’m still putting the same tag list. if you would like to not get tagged for this blog, just let me know!

shoutout to bbg @venusbabysblog for helping me get started🥹

𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 blessing. it’s a job where you have great opportunities to meet amazing people and be in hit films, but sometimes it’s a struggle. jack opens the door to his trailer with a clenched jaw, shutting the door as he looks around. his eyebrows twitch in confusion, noticing how you’re not in sight.

your boyfriend loves to bring you along to wherever he goes for filming. one reason being that he honestly can’t live without you, but also because you’re his biggest fan and will support him through anything. usually, you’d be watching him act from afar or you’d be waiting in his trailer by watching TV or keeping yourself occupied in general. however, you’re nowhere to be seen.

he’s on a long break until later tonight, which annoys him. he just wants this day to be over. “y/n?” he calls out, peeking his head into the small bedroom. alas, you’re not there.

alarms start to go off in his head, although it’s silly. you can’t really go anywhere, but since you’re not in your usual spot, the caring boyfriend in him makes him worry that something bad has happened. especially since you didn’t text him that you were going somewhere or anything.

then, a giggle is heard along with the opening of his trailer door, and he turns around to face the noise. he takes a small sigh of relief when he sees you beaming from ear to ear holding a present bag.

while in the middle of a scene, jack texted you about the day he’s having—lines he couldn’t nail, and a director who seemed impossible to please. you frown slightly when you see his semi-disgruntled face, shuffling over to him excitedly to wrap your arms around his body in an embrace he desperately needs. he exhales deeply, bends down to nuzzle his face into your neck, and kisses it softly.

“sorry, i was hoping i’d be back before you were, but your mom and i got stuck in traffic,” you say in his chest before pulling away after long seconds. trying to make the atmosphere more positive, you smile and extend your arm with the bag in hand. “happy birthday!”

the smallest smile appears on his face, grabbing your hand to head over to the leather couch to sit down. he places the bag onto the floor, removing the tissue inside of it to reveal his presents. his eyes widen in surprise, seeing more than he thought you’d get him. “you didn’t have to do all of this...” he says, a small blush forming on his cheeks.

he pulls out the first thing that sits on top of the rest, which is a homemade birthday card out of construction paper in his favorite color. he lets out a chuckle as he looks at the front of it, seeing two drawn stick figures that are supposed to be you and him holding hands with the title in big writing: HAPPY BIRTHDAY •ᴗ•

opening the card, there’s a bunch of words scribbled on the right side.

jack,

*queue song* happy birthday to you!

i am so incredibly proud of you watching the way you chase your dreams. here’s to many more birthdays, memories, and quiet moments in between the chaos. no matter how many lights and cameras around, you’ll always just be jack to me. the one who laughs too loud, holds me close, and somehow manages to make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.

i’m so grateful to be apart of your story.

always, y/n ❤︎

p.s. like what your name implies, you are indeed a champion.

his heart jumps with joy, closing the note and leaning in to peck you on the nose. your face turns red as you try not to beam with happiness, tilting your head to the bag. “there’s still a lot more.”

he nods, placing the card aside as he grabs a leather journal, specifically personalized for him. the border of it is embroidered with eye-catching detail, his initials JC in big cursive letters in the middle. you know jack sometimes likes to scribble lines down in between takes in a way to remember, or something to put his ideas in for fun. he flips through the pages rapidly, the gust of air flowing on his face as he smells the paper and leather mixed.

you watch his every move, nibbling on your bottom lip excitedly when he pulls out a small, navy blue box. inside of it is a chained necklace with a small pendant of a waxing crescent. the moon phase the day he was born.

scratching the back of your neck nervously, you speak. “this one’s a little girly…” you trail off. “you don’t have to wear it, you can hang it up or something for decoration. i just thought it was pretty.”

he nudges your arm with his elbow. “stop that. it’s beautiful; i love it.”

jack carefully takes it out of the box, undoing the chain and reaching behind his neck to clip it. the length is perfect, and the accessory oddly suits him. “thank you.” he says softly, running his hand over the moon and reaching into the bag once more.

this time, he pulls out two things. another book along with a film camera on top of it tied in ribbon so both items can stick together. while untying it, he notices the scrapbook underneath.

THE STORY OF US…

he glances at you as he starts to look into it. the pages are filled with film photos, ticket stubs, and little mementos from your favorite times together. you’d written little captions under each, capturing inside jokes and sweet moments. it was something he could flip through on hard days.

however, each left page is blank. “you can add to it whenever you have the time. it takes two people to make a love story, you know.” you explain, feeling somewhat cheesy and cringy at the saying, but you mean it.

last but not least, the last few items are snacks. homemade cookies, energy bars, and even a small container of his favorite food.

he feels overwhelmed by all of the gifts but in a good way. nobody has ever shown him this much adoration before, and it’s obvious how much he means to you. “y/n.” your name rolls perfectly off of his tongue, his eyes not leaving the presents now scattered on the couch cushion. “i love it all so much. genuinely, thank you.”

you place your hands on the sides of his neck so he can look at you, kissing him full of love. he cherishes you, and he couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend. he’s always so grateful that he met you that time in his hometown. you made his 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐘 turn around completely.

“how’d you even do all of this?” he adds, starting to feel dumbfounded about how you did all of this under his nose without him knowing.

“i don’t kiss and tell.” you say with a smirk. “but also with the help of your mom.”

laughing, he grunts as he lays to rest his head on your stomach, your hands finding way into his wavy hair. “i’m so in love with you.” he mumbles, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it.

best. birthday. ever.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns @starz4star

#jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion fanfic #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #scream #scream six #scream 6 #ghostface #{ 𑁍ࠬܓ } : requests!

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lewmagoo · 3 days ago

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I saw you were writing blurbs! I was wondering if you can write one for Bob Floyd from the smut list? Number 4, maybe Bob is injured but desperately needs his partner?

slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

he was fine. really, he was. just a little bruised, and very sore. he and phoenix had a close call during training that day, and it had forced them to eject from a jet that was hurdling at breakneck speed toward the earth. bob felt as if he’d been thrown down multiple flights of stairs. he ached in places he didn’t even know he could ache. but that wasn’t even the worst of it. no, the worst part was the look on your face when you’d come rushing into his room. you looked so frightened, and he hated that he was the cause of that fear and worry.

when you got the call that he’d been injured, your world tilted on its axis. thankfully your boss had allowed you to leave work early so you could be with your husband. you weren’t even aware of his condition. all you knew was that there’d been an accident, and that he was in the med bay, and no other details were able to be provided at that time. you were going in blind, unsure of what you were about to walk in on. would he be unresponsive? barely hanging on to life? these thoughts spiraled in your mind as you rushed down the hall toward the room they’d put him in. the only thing that gave you some sense of ease was the fact that he was in a recovery room, and not a care unit.

when you burst into the room, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. he was obviously shaken, and there were some visible cuts and bruises, but he was in one piece, and he was alive. your knees almost buckled, but you pushed yourself forward until you reached him. “oh, bobby,” you whimpered. his eyes filled with tears, and you were quick to sit beside him and carefully wrap your arms around him, wary of doing anything that might cause him pain. “i was so scared. i didn’t know if you were okay or not.”

“i’m fine, sweetheart. just a little banged up.” he leaned over to kiss your head, despite the pain that flashed through his ribs. “one of the engines malfunctioned. we had to eject,” he explained.

“how’s nat?” you inquired, hoping she was fine.

“she’s okay. kind of beating herself up over it, even though it wasn’t her fault. she got us both safely out of the jet, that’s what matters.”

relief settled in your chest at the confirmation that your husband’s pilot was safe. you made a mental note to thank her for keeping your bobby out of harm’s way. “what are they saying as far as when you can be released?”

“it’s up to me. either i can stay for observation or i can sign some papers and get released tonight. i think i’m gonna do that. i’d rather spend the night in our bed than in this stuffy old hospital,” came his response.

that was how you found yourselves heading home a few hours later, bobby in the passenger seat as you drove. you held his hand the entire ride home, unwilling to let go. no words were spoken into the silence of the car. nothing could come close to expressing the way you felt. how terrified you’d been that you had lost him. thank god you hadn’t, but what if still lingered in your mind.

it lingered in his, too. long after you pulled into the driveway and guided him into the house. long after you helped him get ready for bed. long after you got him settled beneath the covers. he kept replaying the incident in his mind. the terror, the adrenaline, the realization that this moment could be his last.

“i was thinking of you,” he whispered. so quiet you couldn’t hear him.

“what was that?” you softly asked as you slid into bed beside him.

his mouth quivered. “i was thinking of you, when i was hurdling toward the ground. i thought…i thought for sure i was going to die. that i was never going to see your face again. hear your voice.” he squeezed his eyes shut, although his tears began to slide down his cheeks. “i-i’m glad it didn’t end that way. i’m glad i get another chance to tell you how much i love you.”

your own tears had begun to fall, and a soft sob escaped your throat. gingerly, you kissed him. tears mixing. mouths absorbing the sounds of each other’s weeping. although you were both reeling from this experience, there was an underlying tone of desperation. it manifested in you carefully climbing into his lap, straddling his hips. in your hands resting upon the sides of his neck, and his upon your hips. and when you parted, you could see it in his eyes. an unspoken need. something so strong and impassioned he could not voice it with mere words.

“please, honey, i…” he couldn’t speak. could barely breathe. suddenly it felt as if his skin was on fire.

“i know,” you breathed against his mouth. “are…are you sure? i don’t want to hurt you.”

“i’m sure.” trembling voice. barely able to breathe.

once again, you kissed him. you were frantic, yet gentle, as you rid yourself of your pajamas, and guided his soft sweatpants down his legs. lips finding his again, you reached down to wrap your hand around his soft cock, stroking him to full hardness as your other hand came down to prepare yourself to take him. it wasn’t long before you were aligning him with you, and he looked down to watch you sink down onto him. a guttural whimper escaped his throat, and his chest heaved as he let out a sob.

“oh! oh, sweetheart,” he sighed as you sank down fully, body flush with his. he wrapped his arms around your body, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders, holding him close, his head against your chest.

“i’ve got you,” came your whisper of reassurance. you held each other, bodies joined as one. tears streaming down your cheeks. mouths open and hot against each other’s. crying and moaning, breathing words of love and adoration. words of devotion.

“never let me go,” he pleaded. he wished you could hold him forever. that he could stay here in your arms, protected from the rest of the world, basking in the warmth of your love.

“never,” you sighed, hips rolling against his, trying your best not to hurt him. but you weren’t hurting him. far from it. you made him feel more alive than he’d felt all day.

“i love you,” he confessed into the air. “i need you. i never want to live without you.”

fingers laced through his hair, you let your forehead rest against his. “i love you too. never wanna live without you, either.”

the gravity of the situation weighed heavy on you both, but you took solace in this intimate connection. and if only for a little while, right here, connected to each other, you found peace. your bobby was safe in your arms. and you were thanking the stars that they’d seen fit to let him come back home to you.

#asks #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #lewmagoo’s blurb day

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sgt-tombstone · 2 days ago

Text

The End of the World

Teen || Ghost x Soap || 1.5k

Read it on AO3

--------

cw: nuclear warfare, angst, major character death

The 141 had failed.

Really, the whole world had failed, but it was hard not to shoulder the blame as a personal burden. Mutually Assured Destruction, Price had called it, and Soap hadn't realized just how apt the name was until he'd seen it for himself.

World War 3, some called it, but most called it how they saw it: the end of the world.

There wasn't a country on earth left unaffected. Bomb shelters hadn't saved even the billionaires, and everyone below them hadn't stood a chance. Ground troops weren't needed for nuclear war, so the 141 had been disbanded pretty quickly after launch codes started being thrown around. Price and Laswell had done what they could, had started to take matters into their own hands, but there were only so many assassinations they could pull off in the short time they had before the aforementioned end of the fucking world, and once bombs had started flying, killing the top dogs was rendered next to useless.

So Price had cut them loose, told them to go spend their last moments with family instead of dying in some military barrack. It had been a gut wrenching moment. Soap had hugged Price and Gaz in turn and hadn't ever wanted to let go of either of them. But he had to; Price and Nik were fucking off to wherever they planned to spend the rest of their days, and Gaz had enough living relatives that he actually liked to make going home worth it.

That left Soap and Ghost.

Which was fine by them, really. It had always been the two of them; sergeant and lieutenant, Soap and Ghost, Johnny and Simon. It seemed fitting that it would be the two of them at the end of it all, too.

They were sitting on a grassy hill somewhere in Scotland, partially because it was where Johnny’s car had run out of gas and partially because it afforded them a truly excellent view of the entirety of England burning on the horizon. Johnny sat in between Simon’s legs, his back pressed to Simon’s chest, and his arms resting atop Simon’s where they were wrapped around his torso. He could feel each of Simon’s slow, measured breaths against his back and cheek, their faces next to each other as they both stared into the distance.

It was oddly quiet, the calm before the storm, peaceful despite the impending danger. Birds sang in the trees above them even as Johnny felt heat from the blast on his face. They didn’t have long before the bombs got close enough to catch them in the radius of nuclear fallout; an hour, maybe, probably less.

“I didn’t want it to end like this,” Simon murmured, soft against the shell of Johnny’s ear.

“We did everything we could, love,” Johnny replied, turning sideways in Simon’s hold to be able to press a kiss to the bare skin of his cheek. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince SImon or himself, but it was fairly moot either way. In an hour, it wouldn’t matter if they’d done their best or not; they’d still be dead. Simon hummed in response, as unconvinced as Johnny was. Johnny twisted back to his original position, secure in SImon’s arms, eyes on the horizon.

It was beautiful, in a way. The pyromaniac in him could appreciate the bright flashes of reds and yellows and the Scotsman in him could appreciate the sight of England burning. But he knew better than to let his personal prejudice, joking or not, cloud his empathy towards millions of lives going up, quite literally, in flames. The sheer world wide devastation was sobering. Haunting. Terrifying.

“Simon,” he said softly, after a long moment of silence. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Simon said, just as softly. “I am, too.”

The admission was a far cry from where they’d started, all those years ago. The Simon that Johnny had first met, shrouded in bone and eyeblack, would never had admitted so easily to fear. The Johnny that Simon had first met probably wouldn’t have, either. But they’d spent almost a decade tearing down and rebuilding their walls, firmly ensconcing each other within the protective boundaries of their hearts. There was nothing that they couldn’t reveal to each other now.

“I would’ve married you, Johnny,” Simon whispered. “If they’d have let me.”

“Yeah?” Johnny asked, his heart and breath jumping in his throat. Marriage, for them, had always been an impossibility and they’d both known it. Even without laws restricting gay men in service, their relationship was a clear breach of fraternization rules. Price had turned a blind eye to it, but making it official in the eyes of the government was a far-fetched dream.

“In a heartbeat,” Simon hummed in confirmation. “Small ceremony, just the 141 and whichever friends weren’t getting shot at for long enough to come. Always imagined you walkin’ down the aisle in a kilt, Price givin’ you away. But if you wanted it the other way around, I’d’ve walked down the aisle for you. ‘S long as it ended with us both at the altar.”

“Simon,” Johnny breathed, turning to stare at his profile, silhouetted by brilliant, glowing red.

“Would’ve had fireworks for our send off,” Simon continued, tilting his head to meet Johnny’s gaze with a small, sad smile. “Know how much you love ‘em.” He looked back to the horizon, to his home country burning to the ground. “I guess this is as close as we’ll ever get to that.”

And then Johnny was crying. Silent tears at first, burning the edges of his eyes like lit gunpowder, and then great, heaving sobs that shook his entire frame. The depth of his want was an ache in his chest, a gaping maw that threatened to cave his ribs in, to sink his breastbone until it hit his spine, nothing but sheer, desperate yearning left in its wake. It was childish, he knew, to cry over something as trivial as an impossible ceremony when he’d spent years by his love’s side, but it wasn’t just that, not really. It was the unfairness of it all. The greed, the ambition, the ignorance that had gotten them here, to this awful, hopeless moment.

“It’s not fair,” he sobbed, burying his face in Simon’s chest, his hands clutching desperately at the soft shirt stretched across his broad back like a lifeline, like the crumpled fabric in his fists was the only thing tethering him to reality.

“It’s not,” Simon murmured, his lips pressed into his hair, and Johnny could hear the tears in his voice, the hitch in his breath. “It’s not fucking fair, love.”

There was no comfort in the words, only helpless commiseration. The only comfort lay in the heat of Simon’s thighs bracketing his, the tears he could feel dripping from Simon’s chin onto the shaved portions of his head, the stuttered sweep of Simon’s hand down his back.

When his sobs leveled out, smoothing into soft breathing again, his tears were dried by the impending heat. The explosions were closer now, close enough to shake the ground beneath them, but neither of them moved. There was no escaping. Johnny felt wrung out as he leaned his weight on Simon, leaning into the comforting heat of him instead of the familiar heat of destruction. He hadn’t wanted it to end like this, either. He’d wanted that wedding, retirement with the love of his life, a secluded cottage with a cat or two, lazy nights and even lazier mornings. He’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with Simon, but not like this. Never like this.

It was better than nothing, though.

“I’m glad that it’s us,” he said, voice roughened by tears and the dust kicked up from the approaching devastation. “I didn’t want it to end this way, but I’m glad that we’re together.”

The next explosion was close enough to ruffle their clothes in the shockwave and Simon tilted Johnny’s head up, his thumb lightly stroking the scar there with an impossibly soft look in his eyes. Johnny wanted to live in his eyes, wanted to drown in that softness. He’d never tire of Simon’s eyes and the depths they held.

“It’ll always be us, Johnny,” Simon said. “Where you go, I go. I’ve got your six.”

The birdsong had stopped, Johnny vaguely registered, but it was the least of his concerns as Simon pulled him closer, their lips connecting in a gentle brush. There was no rush, no thrumming impatience, no underlying need to take more. Just the two of them, tangled together so tightly that neither knew where one ended and the other began, their endless love expressed in the simple press of skin and lips.

Centuries later, when their bones were found, skeletons curled together like puzzle pieces, locked in an immortal embrace, the only thing that was known about them was that they loved each other, deeply, infinitely, right up until the end.

#call of duty #cod #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #major character death #mcd #angst

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kitkat13001 · 1 day ago

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⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜

>> tomura shigaraki x reader

>> comfort, this is entirely self indulgent, i have nothing to say. tomu calls reader “dollface” and “honey”, probably very out of character tomura but idgaf im going thru it and i needed him to comfort me (hope it comforts you too <3) // (dividers by @/anitalenia)

you’re mid-breakdown when tomura comes knocking at your window.

you jump at the rap of his knuckles against the glass, your skin prickling and hair standing on end as you wipe your face. you pray your cheeks aren’t too blotchy, your eyes aren’t too red, thankful for the dimness of your apartment illuminated only by fairy lights and decorative lamp.

“hey,” you say, opening the window and stepping back to let him clamber through. you try to keep your voice steady, but it’s futile. tomura’s nothing if not observant.

“what’s wrong, dollface?”

the way he’s frowning at you tugs at your heart and you feel the tears well up in your eyes again. he takes your face in gentle hands (sans pinky, of course) and it’s too much—you fully burst into tears.

he shushes you softly, pulling you in close. his arms are tight, secure around your body. he may be a villain, but you’ve never felt more safe than when you’re wrapped up in his embrace.

it takes a while for you to calm down. you’re gulping for air through the sobs, approaching hysteria, but the shame bubbling up in your stomach over the emotions is calmed by tomura’s quiet whispers in your ear.

you don’t know how long you stay wrapped up in his arms, until you’ve cried yourself out.

“sorry,” you sniffle as you pull away, wiping furiously at your face once you regain your bearings. “you don’t want to hear about my stupid problems.”

“actually, i kinda do,” he admits, taking your hands to pull you closer. “they’re a lot more digestible than my problems, probably. who knows, maybe i can even help you.”

“thanks, tomu. but i don’t think these are problems you can just dust and move on from.”

“hm. even if that is true, i’m sure talking about will help at least a little, huh?”

he tilts your chin up with his finger, unusually soft look in his eyes.

“so what’s the matter, honey?”

it all comes out. every little thing that’s been poking you between the ribs for as long as you can remember the last couple days, weeks, months. that one time you said that thing in middle school, last week when you tripped and dropped your favorite drink, how it’s been a minute since you called your mother, the way you’re hungry and nothing sounds good, how it seems like the world is going to shit.

it’s kind of ridiculous to hear it all out loud, but tomura was right. it’s like a weight off your chest just to say it, to be able to breathe again.

you’re flushed and breathless once it’s all out. you’re sitting on the couch now, your hands in tomura’s. you’re not quite sure when you got there.

your shoulders sag with the relief of it all, body caving against his.

“you feel better?” he asks, giving you a gentle nudge.

“a little,” you admit, allowing yourself to lean back until you’re laying in his lap. your eyes flutter shut with the feeling of his fingers softly twirling a strand of your hair.

“just…get some rest now, okay? ‘m not going anywhere.”

as promised, completely self indulgent coping fic :) it’s been a day. hiding under the covers from the horrors of the world. get up again tmr and do it all again bc life moves onnnn 🫶🤞 stay safe and don’t lose hope. you are loved!

- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 !

#kitty.writes!#mha x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #mha #bnha #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki x you #tomura shiragaki #shimura tenko #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki #mha fluff #mha comfort

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arcadiandeath · 1 year ago

Text

it feels like i am reliving it everyday

#sick to my stomach all the time. heart racing #all my nerves tingling and every organ flipping #and the dreams #last night i was trying to tell my mother in our old family home that there was a fire spreading in the kitchen #but i was too quiet #no matter how close i got i was too quiet #the night before that it was just like Back Then and i wake up thinking i was dying #how do you do it??? how do you carry all the things that accumulate in the cracks?#i feel like i am coated in it. like everyone can see it on me except for me. like it is coming out of my pores.#eugh. and ive lost so much hair.#but i will get thru it #it can grow back. and december will come. and everything will pass. and life will move on.#need to figure out if theyre making things easier tomorrow or not. i gotta. i will keep going. i will keep going.#i am alright though! just having a rough go of it and need to just. keep my sights set on that flight home.#it's hard when youre so paranoid but you KNOW it's an internal issue #like im so sorry random person im sure youre very nice but im Terrified of you

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furuu · 2 months ago

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‎𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ˳ 　　　It was late, and the house was quiet as you shifted uncomfortably in bed. The cramps had been gnawing at your abdomen all night, making it impossible to fall into a deep sleep. You tried not to move too much, not wanting to disturb Sukuna, who was resting beside you. He rarely seemed vulnerable, but in his sleep, his sharp features softened just enough to remind you that even the King of Curses needed rest.

But no matter how hard you tried to keep still, your body betrayed you. A small, pained groan escaped your lips as another wave of cramps tightened around your stomach, causing you to curl in on yourself. Sukuna’s body twitched beside you, and for a moment, you thought he was still asleep. Until you heard it—a low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest.

You froze. Was he... growling?

It took a few seconds before you realized what was happening. The faint scent of blood must’ve hit his heightened senses, and like a predator picking up on the tiniest shifts in the air, Sukuna was reacting to it. His brow furrowed slightly as he inhaled through his nose, the smell of your period filling his senses. He shifted in his sleep, instinctively moving closer to you, a territorial edge to the way his arm draped over your waist.

You could feel his fingers twitching against your skin as if unconsciously staking his claim. Another small growl escaped him, softer this time but no less possessive.

Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open, and you found yourself face-to-face with a very awake—and very intense—Sukuna. His crimson gaze locked onto yours, still hazy from sleep but filled with an unmistakable sense of protectiveness.

“You’re in pain,” he said gruffly, voice low and rough from sleep. “I can feel it.”

You opened your mouth to protest, your face flushing with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just… cramps. It’s nothing, really—”

His grip on you tightened just slightly, cutting off your sentence as he stared at you, his eyes narrowing in a way that left no room for argument. “Dumb girl,” he warned, as if what he said before was the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was matter-of-fact, yet there was an underlying possessiveness in the way he said it, as if it was something unbreakable. “I will keep you safe, as your king.”

You swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Sukuna, it’s just—”

“I don’t care what it is,” he interrupted, his voice softening just a little, though the stubbornness was still there. “Your body is suffering, and I will ease your pain.”

You opened your mouth to argue again, but the intensity in his gaze left you speechless. He didn’t just want to help—you could tell he needed to, like some primal instinct had taken over. Just like how animals got protective and snuggly around women on their periods, Sukuna’s instincts were flaring up. You could see it in the way his muscles tensed, the way he hovered protectively over you, as if keeping you safe from something unseen.

You sighed, feeling your embarrassment wash away as you realized how serious he was. “It’s just… it’s a little embarrassing,” you admitted softly, looking down. “I don’t want to bother you.”

Sukuna let out a quiet snarl of irritation. “You’re my mate. You’ll never bother me.” He shifted, pulling you closer into his chest as his large hand splayed across your abdomen, the warmth of his palm immediately soothing against your aching muscles. “Let me take care of you.”

Despite the initial embarrassment, the heat of his body and the firm but gentle pressure of his hand on your stomach made you relax. The pain wasn’t as sharp with him so close, and the reassurance in his gravely voice eased some of the discomfort in your chest, too.

You snuggled into him, allowing yourself to rest against his tattooed chest. His growls quieted into a soft rumble, more like a contented purr now, as he nuzzled his face into your hair.

“I’ve got you,” Sukuna murmured, his voice a quiet, possessive promise. “You’re mine. No one gets to hurt you. Not even your own body.”

And even though it was still a little embarrassing, you felt safer than ever wrapped in his arms, knowing that he would always be there to protect you—even from something as simple as cramps.　　‿ ݂۫ ׄ ༊࿔

#၇୧ ⠀ᅟ𓈒⠀ ɓɑɓɓᥣes⠀⠀( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ ⠀⠀⁺#sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #anime x female reader #. . ˚˖𓍢ִ

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lyrefromthesea · 4 months ago

Note

How would the hashira react if we accidentally pushed him off the bed while sleeping?

Male hashira x Reader - It's OUR bed

pairing: Tengen x Reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

• he wakes up before he even hits the ground. did you just push him down? he immediately checked, but realizes you aren't awake.

• with a quiet scoff, which turned into an even more quiet laugh, he stands up and takes his original place in bed again.

• to make sure that you're not pushing him down another time, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close enough to nearly use him as a bed instead.

Obanai:

• he hits the ground and nearly panics. if you pushed him out of the bed in your sleep, then maybe you subconsciously didn't like having him close.

• he's quick to disregard that thought, because you quietly stirred next to him, as if you couldn't sleep without him.

• when he finally takes his place in bed again, he lets his fingers brush against yours, wanting to have contact with you. he feels his heart swell when you wrap your arms around his and press it against your body.

Rengoku:

• falls out of the bed and stares at the ceiling with his big owl eyes. he sits up straight in a matter of seconds, asking what just happened.

• though he didn't want that to happen, he accidently wakes you up. seeing you yawn and rub your eyes, he stands up to comfort you into slumber again.

• he'll hold you close to his chest, so you can fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Sanemi:

• he lands on the ground face first, his hand still clinging onto your arm. the reflex that usually was there to protect you, took you down with him this time.

• the air got knocked out of his lungs after you fell on top of him, letting out a quiet groan. the man turned his face to the side, grumbling in his tired voice, while he felt you get up.

• he's too tired to even talk about it, letting himself fall into bed again and pulling you with him. he ends up falling asleep on top of you, your cheek squished against the top of his head.

Giyuu:

• he sleeps on his side, when you accidently pushed him down the bed, it made him fall onto his back pretty hard. it normally wouldn't have bugged him, he was a hashira and knew how to handle pain. unfortunately, his muscles ached after the fall, because he had landed rather unlucky.

• he won't say anything or wake you up, because he doesn't want to disturb your sleep. expect for the quiet grunt leaving him, he makes sure to keep absolute silence and hold you close again.

• when you see him feel unwell the next day and ask what's wrong, he'll explain it to you. "why didn't you say anything, i would've helped immediately!" he fell silent, his cheeks flushing. he had been too shy to ask for your help.

Gyomei:

• he was sleeping on the edge of the bed to begin with. it wasn't your fault when you turned and bumped against him, making the man fall down the bed.

• he opens his eyes slowly, hands feeling the ground under him, eventually brushing against the blanket that was hanging down the bed.

• it didn't hurt and it was clearly an accident, he didn't see any reason to talk about it. instead he stands up again, makes sure that you sleep in a proper position and puts a protective arm around you.

• you may never know what happened, but that didn't disturb him. he loved you after all.

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sttoru · 1 year ago

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‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’

☀︎｜tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.

a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.

“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.

and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.

“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.

sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.

though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.

sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.

were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?

he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.

“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”

sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”

lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.

but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.

sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.

you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.

“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.

you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.

you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.

“where’d you think you’re going?”

sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.

you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.

his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.

he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.

“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.

you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.

even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.

you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.

“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.

you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”

a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.

“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.

you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.

sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.

“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”

it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.

the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.

until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #jjk fluff #jjk fic #sukuna ryoumen x reader

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garoujo · 1 year ago

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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you know as soon as you get out of bed, satoru isn’t going to be far behind you, especially when you’re draped in his shirt.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, insatiable satoru :3, mostly teasing, some morning scenes as he tries to drag you back to bed, you’re in his shirt, he lifts you up at the end. ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! i am so very obsessed + crazed, i can’t stop <3

it’s still early, barely light outside as you stand in the kitchen of your shared apartment. you’ve left your boyfriend gojo still in bed, you felt a little bad waking him up when he always looked so peaceful, probably tired out after the night he’d given you lastnight— the evidence of his efforts still burning on your skin where he’s left his mark.

but it had still been an effort to peel him off of you no matter how soundly he slept, having to pull yourself away from the warmth of his chest— his arms were like a puzzle with how tightly he wraps them around you, but you thought he’d appreciate waking up to some coffee and breakfast on his day off.

the air in the kitchen is still cold, something you’ve put down to the early morning— the roads outside are still quiet but there’s a slight breeze along your bare thighs when you move. the rest of your body is fine though, draped comfily in one of satoru’s ridiculously huge shirts, the perks of your boyfriend being over 6’3 ofcourse—plus he always payed such expensive amounts for his clothes, it was almost guaranteed they were gonna be comfy.

you giggle as you scoop a ridiculous amount of sugar into your boyfriends coffee cup, the ceramic identical to yours— his idea when he started coming over more often, but you still thought his sweet tooth was adorable.

“oh? good morning to you too, sweet thing.” your train of thought is interrupted by the smooth, still sleepy drawl as you shoot a quick glance over your shoulder to see gojo already approaching you. he couldn’t be apart from you too long afterall— it’s like his soul was tied with yours. he’s still shirtless, his hair is messy from sleep— snowy peaks framing his features while his sweatpants rest dangerously low on his hips.

“you’re awake early.” you sigh out, dreamily as you feel your boyfriends chest press against your back, his long arms circling their way around your waist from behind as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“mhm, how my supposed to sleep without you, hah? so cruel.” there’s a slight whine to gojo’s words, you can still hear the sleepiness in his tone but it makes you smile when it’s followed by a smeared kiss along your jawline. you roll your eyes before you lean into him, feeling his fingertips trace along the hem of your shirt, his shirt that’s hanging around your thighs before he speaks again.

“you teasin’ me?” his words are lower this time, a little more than a growl as he plays around with the fabric between his fingers— grumbling before he’s deliberately pressing his hips into you from behind. he’s close and warm, making sure you can feel the problem you left him with this morning when you got out of bed without him— straining against the fabric of his sweats.

“‘toru, it’s 8am. you’re insatiable.” you giggle out, a sweet little sound so early in the morning and it only seems to draw gojo in closer to you— smiling into his next kiss along your throat as he rolls his hips into you.

“oh, but you left me cold and alone, i think you gotta make that up to me, no?” he’s teasing you, trying to lure you back into where he wants you most— not that he wouldn’t have you anywhere, he’s already had his way with you around this whole apartment. but he wants nothing more than you between the sheets right now, wrapped up in him and the plush mattress beneath you both.

“i’m literally making you a coffee. you needed the rest.” you try to argue but you should know that gojo’s never one to back down. you feel his fingers trail slowly underneath the hem of his shirt, before he sighs with the first teasing swipe along the inside of your bare thigh, so dangerously close to your folds that you shudder. no panties either? you really were teasing him.

“hah? but i feel better than ever.” he tries to argue, oh so convincingly before he’s turning you to face him— peppering sweet, ticklish smooches along your features until you’re arms are wrapping around his shoulders and your eyes are finally on him.

“oh, i’m sure~” you grin, his crystalline gaze is sleepy as you brush your fingers through his bed head— scratching at his scalp before he’s sending you a lopsided grin, followed by a quick peck against your lips.

“got no choice. you need a demostration? let’s go, sweet thing. only one way to show you.” is all you hear from gojo before he’s suddenly got you thrown over his shoulder, and you truly forget how strong he really is until he’s handling you with such ease— holding you with one arm like you’re as light as a feather.

“satoru! what about breakfast?” not that you’re putting up much of a fight, you can basically feel the smug look that’s on his face already as he turns to drag you back to bed. you grumble, defeated but it quickly turns to a shriek when you feel your boyfriends free hand come down sharply on your ass as he chuckles.

“hm? don’t mind. i’m hungry f’ somethin’ else right now, baby.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

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hvnyrt · 2 days ago

Note

Request/idea: Jason pining for reader, although he’ll never admit it

Voice in the Wind

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for submitting a request! Luckily for you I have no class or work today and was able to get this out same-day for you. :) I went angsty for this request, I hope it's to your liking!

SUMMARY: You have been in love with Jason Todd for a while now, and he had been too, yet he was too trapped in his mind to even take your relationship into consideration.

WARNINGS: Angst, non happy ending :(

WC: 1.9k