#please he flinches every time he so much as sees the sun

[jaratedeguadalupe]

Virgil the mf standing in the shade and wearing hood on the playground pretending to be a vampire  

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : THE ARGUMENT : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst but fluff at the end!!

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Contains themes of intense argument, accidental injury, and emotional distress. It includes descriptions of pain and fear as well as a depiction of physical and emotional reconciliation.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: During a heated argument, Logan accidentally scratches your cheek. Shocked and scared, you pull away, but his sincere apologies and careful care help mend the emotional rift, leading to reconciliation.

THE LIVING ROOM WAS CAST IN THE FADING LIGHT OF THE SETTING SUN, the shadows elongating across the floor as tension thickened in the air. Logan and you were in the middle of a bitter argument, voices raised, emotions frayed.

"You never understand me!" you shouted, your frustration palpable. "Every time I try to share something important, you just shut me down. How am I supposed to deal with that?"

Logan’s expression was a mix of irritation and disbelief. "I do understand! I’m not shutting you down. I’m trying to protect you from things you don’t need to worry about!"

"You think you know what’s best for me, but you don’t!" you shot back, anger making your voice crack. "You’re so caught up in your own world that you can’t see how much this hurts me!"

Logan’s face was taut with frustration as he threw his hands up in exasperation. "I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just trying to keep things together. You don’t know what it’s like, and you don’t get to judge me for how I cope."

"Judge you? I’m not judging you!" you cried out, your voice rising with every word. "I’m trying to be a part of your life, to understand your pain, but you push me away every time I try!"

The argument spiraled, each of you lashing out, fueled by pent-up emotions and misunderstandings. The more you both spoke, the more entrenched you became in your anger and hurt.

In the heat of the argument, Logan’s frustration boiled over. He swung his arm out sharply, trying to emphasize his point, but his claws, which had been retracted, extended reflexively. His movement was sudden and uncontrolled, and the sharp metal grazed your cheek.

The sound of tearing flesh and your gasp filled the room. A sharp pain exploded across your face, and you instinctively clutched your cheek, stumbling back. Blood began to trickle down your face, mingling with your tears.

Logan’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the result of his actions. "Oh God, no!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and horror. "What have I done?"

You stood frozen, shock and pain leaving you momentarily immobilized. The initial sting of the cut was quickly overshadowed by a numbing fear. Your eyes were wide with terror as you stared at the blood trickling from the wound. The sight of Logan’s panicked face only made the situation feel more surreal.

Logan took a tentative step toward you, his hands raised in a gesture of helplessness. "Please, let me help you. I didn’t mean to—" His voice was choked with emotion, his usual gruffness replaced by a raw, pained vulnerability. "I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

But as he moved closer, you flinched away, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The pain and fear made it hard to think straight. "Don’t come near me," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Stay away."

The fear in your voice made Logan freeze. He looked at you, his face a mix of anguish and regret. "No, please, I—" His voice cracked as he tried to explain, "I didn’t mean for this to happen. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry."

You continued to back away, the blood on your cheek mingling with the tears streaming down your face. Logan’s heart ached seeing you like this. He desperately tried to keep his voice calm and steady, despite the turmoil inside him.

"Just sit down, okay?" Logan’s voice was pleading, almost breaking. "I’ll get a first aid kit. Please, just sit down. I need to help you."

You hesitated, your body trembling with shock and pain. Slowly, you sank onto the edge of the couch, trying to steady your breath. Logan dashed to the bathroom, grabbing the first aid kit with trembling hands. He returned to you, moving cautiously to avoid any sudden movements that might make things worse.

Logan knelt in front of you, keeping a respectful distance as he carefully opened the first aid kit. His hands shook as he prepared the supplies, his eyes darting between the kit and your face.

"I’m here," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I just want to help you. Please let me."

You nodded slowly, tears still falling as you tried to control your breathing. Logan’s touch was gentle as he cleaned the wound, his eyes never leaving yours. "I’m so sorry," he repeated over and over, his voice filled with remorse. "I never wanted to hurt you. I was just so frustrated. Please forgive me."

As he worked, he tried to explain, his voice a constant murmur of apologies and reassurances. "I know I can’t undo this," he said softly, "but I want to make things right. I need you to know that I care about you, that I’m here for you."

Logan carefully bandaged the cut on your cheek, his touch tender and cautious. He avoided any sudden movements, mindful of the pain you were in. Once he was done, he sat beside you, his posture weary but attentive.

"Can we talk now?" Logan asked gently, his voice a mix of pleading and sincerity. "I need to understand what happened, what’s going on with us. I want to fix this. I want to make things right."

The tears had slowed, and as you looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes began to cut through your fear and hurt. You nodded, your voice still trembling but more composed. "I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m scared, and I just… I need to feel safe.”

Logan’s eyes softened with relief. He moved closer, his arm gently wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "I’m here," he murmured into your hair, his voice steady and reassuring. "I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. I’m sorry for everything."

You leaned into his embrace, the warmth of his body and the sincerity in his touch helping to ease the emotional pain. Logan held you close, whispering soft apologies and promises of a better future. The warmth of his embrace began to heal the wounds that went beyond the physical.

As the night settled in, the earlier turmoil faded, replaced by a renewed sense of connection and understanding. The quiet of the evening was filled with the gentle sounds of Logan’s reassurances and your steadying breaths.

You pulled back slightly to look at him, a small, tentative smile on your lips. "Thank you," you said softly, your voice steadier now. "Thank you for being here and for caring."

Logan’s smile was filled with a mix of relief and affection. "Always," he replied, his voice soft but full of conviction. "I’ll always be here, no matter what."

And as the night deepened, the warmth of your renewed bond wrapped around you both, offering comfort and hope for the future.

🏷️: @twinky-wink @fidgetingbee @astarions-girl-dinner @layladestiny8 @birdy-bat-writes

If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! 🫶

[vrystalius]

Live to see another day

After the Mugen Train incident your husband Kyojuro is slowly recovering with your help.

Pairing: Kyojuro x gn!reader

Despite all his injuries and great pains, your husband’s bright smile matches that of the sun. You dream of it every night, how life was before Kyojuro went on that damned mission that caused so much suffering and pain for the both of you. Yet, despite everything, he pushed through and forces himself through physical therapy in hopes to recover fully. Your head was resting on your crossed arms, on the hospital bed your husband was laying in. You weren’t planning on falling asleep like this, but you were so, so tired from everything yesterday.

Shinjuro came to visit and caused nothing but make Kyojuro’s heart-rate rapidly rise, his eye sight in the injuried eye got worse, his resistance to the pain-medication that Shinobu assigned to him increase and with that his pain got more intense. You thought your husband was getting better. Last night you were even able to crawl into his narrow hospital bed and cuddle with him. The first time in months. It was so nice to feel his arms wrapped around your body. His touch felt so securing and as if nothing in the world matters anymore, as if Kyojuro can protect you from anything. Even if he may be bedridden for so many more months.

You didn’t want to open your eyes yet despite waking up. You can’t look at your husband’s bandaged body yet, it’s too early in the morning for that. Your body relaxed in the awkward position you were in, your arms stretching and spreading out to carefully rest them over his legs. You wanted to feel him close but weren’t sure where you’re allowed to touch him without him giving you a pained smile and gently reminding you that what you just touched was making him want to cripple in pain. You left Kyojuro’s legs shift beneath your arms and you carefully pulled them back to your body, fearing you might did exactly what you were afraid of doing— hurting him. You slowly opened your eyes but didn’t lift your head, staring at your husband’s handsome, bandaged face from where you were resting your head. He was surprisingly awake already, staring right at you. Was he watching you sleep? You gave him a weak grin and rubbed your eyes, sitting upright on the incredibly uncomfortable chair you were sitting in, stretching your tired limbs. Kyojuro watched quietly.

“Good morning. You shouldn’t sleep like that, my flame. You will get back aches.”

You stretched your back and groaned loudly, proving his point. He laughed quietly, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you. His hand slowly reached out to your cheek and pulled your attention back on him. You carefully leaned into his touch, placing a small kiss into his palm.

“How are you feeling? You need anything for the pain?”

Your voice was still laced with sleep. Kyojuro shook his head slightly and pulled you a little closer.

“I’m fine love. Just stay with me, please.”

How could you refuse that wish? You scooted closer with your chair and rested your head on the edge of his pillow. His arm weakly wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers tracing loose patterns on your arm. His head slowly moved closer to yours, resting on top of yours. His warmth was radiating off his body and his touch was relaxing to the point of melting against his body. You lifted your arm and hovered over his chest and glanced at him, silently ask for permission to wrap your arm around his shoulders. A smile spread on Kyojuro’s face and he planted a kiss on the side of your head, nodding quietly. Slowly, your arm lowered to rest on his shoulder. You closely watched for flinches or pained expressions in case you were hurting him in any way, but wrapping your arm around his shoulder seemed fine. Tension left out of your body as you smiled softly. Kyojuro sighed contently and closer his eyes for a moment. The morning sun began to illuminate you two, the comforting warmth acting like a cozy blanket tucking you two in.

“I love you... Thank you for everything, my love.”

He turned his head slowly to look at you, his hand giving your arm a weak squeeze. There it was again, Kyojuro’s brightest smile that was able to brighten up even the most depressing days. You can’t even begin to comprehend how glad you are that your husband returned back to you, to your arms.

What would you do without him?

🎃

Fictober prompt: “It’s a new day, let’s go.”

I was planning on posting something for Akaza today, but a mutual randomly reminded me that today is the fourth anniversary of the Mugen Train Arc release date (in Japan) and I thought I should write something for our best boy <3 I miss him greatly. I just noticed that I need a plushie of him or a figurine, I have neither although he was my first favourite character in the whole series. I want a big, huge plushie of him :(

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

My event masterlist 🎃

[aurorawritestoescape]

ALWAYS AND FOREVER || 1,6k

post-outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel comes home after a hard day on patrol and you comfort him.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, ANGST, m/f masturbation, mention of somno, mention of canon typical violence, mention of death. I chose not to include all the warnings so as not to spoil the fic.

A/n: written for @iamasaddie ‘s writing challenge 2.0. color: Joel’s denim shirt. genre: hurt/comfort. prompt: "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay." Aly, you creative genius, thank you for hosting such a fun event! Also sending you kisses and hugs for the gif in my mb! Love you, baby!♥️ Smooches to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing the fic💕

MASTERLIST

*****

Joel stomps through the bedroom door, growling and mumbling obscenities under his breath. He’s tense, every nerve is an open wire, every unexpected sound makes him flinch and grit his teeth. He’s tired, lack of sleep painted his skin gray and his beard is all patchy. He looks like shit.

“What is it, Joel?” You ask sitting on your favorite spot on the bed, the left side, which is closer to the window and to the sun that is a rare sight in autumn here. Joel often laughed at you calling you a cat for your love to lie there, basking in the sunshine or napping. And you loved taking naps so much. When Ellie, Joel and you came to Jackson and settled, you couldn’t get enough of that sweet afternoon sleep.

Sometimes Joel would snuggle up to you, spooning your sleeping body, enveloping you like a big warm cloud. Many times you’d wake up to his lips moaning in your ear and his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy, your body already vibrating on the verge of climax. You loved it. You loved him and he loved you.

“What is it?” You sing the question, repeating it again. His frustration, annoyance, anger or whatever else that ruined his day is about to spill everywhere, staining every corner of this house, and you need to stop it, defuse the bomb that’s about to explode.

“Nothing,” he drops in your direction, not looking at you and you sigh. He untucks his flannel shirt and strides to the bathroom. He doesn’t wash his hands and face right away. His eyes are boring into his own reflection, hands gripping the sink until his knuckles whiten. Not being able to contain himself any longer, he roars and elbows the mirror, shattering it into pieces.

“You hurt?” You ask quietly, standing in the doorframe, hands clasped shyly in front of you. You’re wearing his denim shirt and panties, nothing else.

His head whips in your direction and there are tears in his beautiful brown eyes, bloodshot from his constant insomnia.

You furrow your brows and step into the little room. He raises his hands, trying to stop you from walking on the glass-littered floor but drops them, seeing your bare feet gracefully step between the remnants of the mirror.

When you’re close you look up into his pained face and put your palm on his elbow, the one he just jammed into the wall. He doesn’t flinch.

“Wash your hands and come to bed. Please,” you ask quietly and reach up kissing his lips.

He does what you’ve asked him. He always did. He trusted you like no one else in this goddamn world. Maybe only Ellie and Tommy.

Joel sits on the bed next to you and you make him lie down, your hands applying light pressure on his tired shoulders.

He exhales feeling the frustration and rage leave his body already, bit by bit. He wants to pull you to him, hug you, kiss you but like a ray of sun you slip away from his fingers. He watches you get up and walk to the window.

His gaze catches the sway of your hips, the curve of your ass peeking out from under his shirt and he already feels his jeans getting too restrictive for his stiffening cock.

“Pull it out,” you tell him, quiet dominance in your voice, after you turn around and perch your ass on the window sill. He looks at you with defiance at first, always ready to object, but your sweet smile makes his hands dart down to unzip his jeans. You pull down your panties and take them off.

The only thing you have on now is his old denim shirt, worn out and soft, the one you stole from him years ago. You’re unclasping it now, fingers quick and sure and he watches you, palming his throbbing cock through his boxers.

You leave the shirt open and he sees a valley between your breasts and your belly. He catches a glimpse of your pussy and takes a sharp breath.

“Pull it out, Joel,” you ask with a soft and sultry tone, the one that makes his cock twitch every time he hears it. His name on your lips is like a balm for his restless soul and he places it somewhere deep for later to use, to remember.

He finally pulls his boxers down and takes out his semi hard cock. You inhale deeply and give him a little smile.

“You’re so tense, Joel,” you purr, lifting on leg and placing your foot on the window pane, “Relax for me.”

Your pussy is exposed to him now and his hungry gaze latches on your blooming flower while he’s holding his breath.

“Play with yourself for me, sweetheart,” he pleads before spitting into his palm. He wraps it around his girthy cock and starts slowly moving it up and down.

Your hand resting on your inner thigh slides to your center and with two of your fingers you spread your folds to show him your glistening pussy.

“Hnggg,” Joel groans, bucking his hips and thrusting his cock into his own huge fist.

“Wanna taste you, baby,” he rasps, eyes pleading under the bushy eyebrows.

You shake your head lightly, giving him a warm smile and start rubbing your clit. Joel’s watching you and pumping his cock faster, the skin on his hand wet with precum, his moans accompanied by your soft whimpers. Your chest is heaving and the denim shirt opens up, exposing your breasts.

“Make yourself feel good, my love,” his voice is quiet and full of love.

The hand on your pussy gets busy, as you’re plunging your fingers into your crying hole and move them in and out with the rhythm of his cock fucking his tight fist.

The other hand kneads your breasts, tugs on your pebbled nipples.

His hungry gaze desperately darts between your face, tits, belly, pussy. The vision of you, weaved into the golden light from the window behind you, brings tears to his eyes. He wishes he could take a picture, draw you like this, capture this image and store it forever behind his eyelids. Joel grips his cock tighter at the base, delaying his release for a few moments. He’s getting drunk on the sight in front of him, insatiable and already thirsty for more.

Joel is happy to forget about everything for these few minutes, his mind occupied by your fingers being pushed deeper into your sweet cunt, your face twisted with pleasure, back arched and legs trembling. He can hear how wet your pussy is.

Soon a climax takes over you as you freeze for a second before waves of pleasure shake your body making you cry out his name only for his ears,

“Joel!”

He wishes you screamed it coming on his cock and his cum spurted deep inside your pussy instead of all over his belly and hand like his pulsating cock is doing now.

You sniff, eyes sparkling with unshed tears, and he smiles, recognizing your telltale sign of a satisfying orgasm.

“C’mere, crybaby,” he whispers with a tired smile, wiping his spilled cum with the hem of his shirt.

You’re next to him in a second, lying on your stomach, arms folded on his broad chest, your chin resting over them.

“My sweet girl.”

His gaze showers you with warmth and adoration, arms itching to hold you, lips - to kiss.

“What happened, Joel?” Your piercing eyes are searching for the answer in his face. He takes a deep breath looking up at the ceiling, trying to quiet the rage, rising from the pits of his stomach again.

“We were on patrol. Me and this new kid. Dumbass! I told him to be careful but the asshole didn’t wait for me… rushed into the house when I specifically told him to wait…Found him on the floor, fighting a clicker. Bastard was lucky I was there on time. Shot the damn thing just before it bit his fucking face off.”

“In that house?” You ask quietly and he nods.

You sigh and climb a little higher on the bed and plant a kiss on his weathered lips. He averts his eyes embarrassed by the smell of whiskey you must have noticed but you smile and cup his scruffy cheek.

“You saved him. I’m proud of you, Joel.”

He closes his eyes, comforted by the softness of your touch, by your praise and he feels his soul healing a little. But the memories flood his mind and a second later his serenity shutters again.

“Yeah, I did. I saved him,” he rasps looking deep into your eyes, “but I didn’t save you.”

A tear slides down his cheek and you kiss it away. You pepper kisses over his eyes, nose, lips and then search for his sad eyes and speak softly,

“You can’t save everyone, Joel.”

“I don’t give a shit about everyone,” he snaps, fire waking up behind his eyes again, “I care about you. And I fucking lost you.”

His eyes are pleading for a miracle, tracing your slightly blurry features, but you can’t make it happen.

“You didn’t lose me, Joel, I’m right here,” you purr against his cheek, before taking his face in your hands. Your love is so strong, Joel can swear he feels their warmth on his skin.

“It’s gonna be ok, Joel. You’re gonna be ok. You have people who love you. Ellie, Tommy. And you have me. Always will.”

Joel nods and wishes he could see you longer but the exhaustion takes over and soon he falls into deep relaxing sleep, lulled and comforted by the ghost of you.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed the fic. Your feedback motivates me so much!♥️

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannfairy @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover

If you’d like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[imaginesbymonika]

LOML- loss of my life | Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Plot: You knew him at a time when he didn't, and now he is looking for you...

Warnings: depiction of violence, angst, mentions of (perhaps) death, angst, fluff at the end (maybe), takes place after TFATWS

Previous Chapter | Masterlist

Bucky couldn’t possibly open up to Sam about his nightmares. Let alone tell him about her. How would he explain anything to him if he didn’t even manage to remember her name or what she looked like? He furrows his eyebrows. Y/e/ced eyes. Yes, that’s it. Your y/e/ced eyes looked up at him with an emotion he couldn’t quite place- one he rarely got to see.

They remained on him for a short moment before you turned to look at one of the guards. Pierce and the others had left by now, leaving you alone with The Winter Soldier and one single bodyguard- which was truly a joke. One gun wouldn’t be anywhere enough to stop The Winter Soldier if he decided to launch at you.

But Hydra wasn’t a caring employment agency. They couldn’t care less whether you lived or died. In the morning if they would stumble upon your lifeless body, they would burn it and toss your remaining ashes into the trash. Then they would just go out to abduct the next doctor. You softly scoffed at the thought and turned around:” Can you please bring me my bag?”

The guard merely nodded at you, and for a moment, he turned his back on the two of you. However, as you perked up at The Winter Soldier, you didn’t feel any kind of fear. Maybe you had already given up on your life, who knew?

“Here.”, the guard let out and tossed the bag on a table. “Rude much?”, you whispered underneath your breath before standing up and walking towards it.

“Okay.”, you declared as you walked back to him with a bottle of sterilizer and a handful of cotton pads:” I am not going to lie to you, this will probably sting- a lot. You have a few mildly concerning cuts and a few stitches up that got infected.” A sigh left your lips:” I don’t know which of the other doctors did such an awful job, but I’m going to fix them, okay?”

The Winter Soldier observed you carefully and tilted his head at your movements. “Please, remember I am not trying to hurt you. I am here to help.”, you whispered and leaned down again, putting some of the brownish liquid on the white cotton:” Are you ready?” No one had ever asked for his opinion before.

Then he nodded.

It took you roughly 8 Minutes to clean every cut on his exposed torso, and once you were done you leaned back:” Okay, great. None of these have to be stitched up.” Your hand moved softly over his arm, and he flinched when it came in contact with one of the scrapes.

“Shit, sorry.”, you got up and made your way over to your bag. Your gaze drifted to the guard, who was waiting for you to finish so The Winter Soldier could be thrown back into his cell again. You have never seen the cell but you can only guess that, if anything it’s dark and cold in there.

You turn back to the man with the lengthy hair and bite your lips while holding a couple of bandages in your hands: ”I’m almost done. I promise.”

You quickly made your way back to him to put them on before you ultimately looked up at him. “I’m sorry.”, you whispered, trying your best to make it seem like you were not saying a single word:” I’m so sorry for the way these people are treating you. If anything I believe that there is still good in you, at least somewhere. That deep down you’re a good man, used to fighting a war you’re not interested in. I-.”

„You’re aware that you can tell me anything, right?“, Sam‘s voice cuts straight through the fog. Bucky only exhaled deeply before he leaned back in his chair outside Sam‘s house.

The weather is nice and he shuts his eyes for a few seconds while facing the sun, how he treasures the warmth on his skin- her warm hand on his cheek was an extraordinary contrast to the coldness of the room, and he would have leaned into it if it wasn’t for the guard ripping you off of him, and throwing your body onto the dirty tiles. He-

„Last week, when we were having dinner you called me a friend in front of Sarah, and you know what friends do.“, Sam lets out, and even though his voice has a playfulness to it, there is a layer of concern in it.

Bucky rolls his eyes:“ Are you implying that I lied to your sister?“ „I don’t know. Did you?“ „I would never lie to your sister. She means too much to me.“, Bucky winks at Sam before bringing the beer bottle up to his lips again, and a chuckle escapes his lips once he sees the look on his friend's face.

[yan-lorkai]

may i please request Idia, Azul, Jamil, and Floyd with a s/o that has a really bad sleep schedule, like literally can’t take naps and falls asleep at like 2 am and wakes up at 6 am. So they’re always really clingy and tired because of it

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: This is a mood. I started playing Mystic messenger again and like, my sleep schedule is all over the place because I refuse to lose even a single chat 😭. Needlessly to say but I'm sleepy all day but at least I'm getting a good ending for sure lol. Hope you enjoy this, darling!

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Idia himself has trouble sleeping. He keep turning around so many time that if you were to share a bed with him, you would woke suddenly. Nightmare, anxiety and fears plague his mind, thus he turns to the only coping mechanism he has: gaming. He plays the night away before meeting you. After that, his heart start to beat normally and he can finally breathe, he can finally rest for a second. And then he finds out you have a worse sleeping schedule than him. You sleep really late and wake up really early.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ For once he feels the need to be the responsible one, inviting you to sleepovers just so he can make sure that you will be sleeping at an acceptable time, reducing the time you spend in front of screens or any caffeine. You will be sleeping this night and the after, and the other after that. He'll made sure of it. Plus, having you around is so good and you're always touching him in some form whenever you have a bad night. He like it even though he still flinch and blush whenever this happens.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Though no matter how much he loves to have you cuddling his back or hugging him because you're sleepy and can't take a nap, Idia will have your sleep schedule fixed. There can only be one insomniac in this relationship and it's him.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ It's a bit difficult for Jamil, though not impossible, to know you're not getting enough sleep at night. He himself works till the late hours and rise together with the sun. Still there are noticeable signs: you clinging to him, irritability, impulsive thoughts, slurred speech, and then he starts to realize you don't sleep at all some nights, doing whatever you spent time doing. And Jamil scolds you like he would Kalim. He is listing every negative effect on your health, how not sleeping can impact you on the long run, how you should fix it.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ He make you some teas to sleep better, he'll even help you meditate so you can clear your mind. Though nothing he try works, so he casually move you into his room so he can keep an eye on you. He takes regular breaks when night starts to fall to see if you're still awake. If you are and he is free, which is rare, Jamil will lay down beside you and hold you tight, hoping that the warmth of his body and his soft humming can make you sleepy. If even this fail, he use the Snake Whisper to make you sleep.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Floyd is something else. He likes to experiment with how long he can stay awake before he succumbs to exhaustion, he does this often, laughing at the side effects the day after - though he also gets pretty moody the days he doesn't sleep. But only he can do this, you are required to sleep and take naps. He'll squeeze you gently on his arms, humming a little song while he pinch and poke at you to make you squeal. It's his way of telling you that he is here for you.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Despite his fickle and quick change of moods, Floyd can be soft sometimes. And when he wants something, he gets something; he'll read for you to sleep or tell all about his day and the things he did, the people he squeezed, the dishes he cooked, at some point, even more when he is holding you closely, rubbing your back and pressing kisses to your neck, Floyd knows you're bound to feel asleep soon.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Azul knows the importance of sleeping well. A well rested mind is capable of analyzing, of observation and various other things he needs to keep his business running. He can see how you struggle, often draping yourself all over him, mumbling slowly and yawning every few seconds. He knows you don't have been sleeping well. The motive he inquiry you about; and he create a sleep schedule for you when he learn it's because you have a bad sleep schedule, altering everything you do every day so you can have a practical schedule that fits your academic life and free time.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ While that's more easy said than done, Azul tries to coax you into sleeping in his room under the pretende of watching a movie or two. He is shy like this, don't mind him. He knows what's good for you and he can pamper you and take care of you when you are nearby, tangling you in his arms and blankets.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Running the Gauntlet: A Natsume Yuujinchou fanfic (Part 1)

Part 1 of my fanfic based on the idea I had in this post about Natsume's running abilities making his life at school difficult that blew up.

Includes a couple silly footnotes!

Running the Gauntlet

“I wish Natsume wasn’t our anchor,” a classmate complained.

Natsume flinched. It’s not like I wanted to be, he thought glumly. He pretended he hadn’t heard, hunching over and tying this shoe. So many students and teachers milling around on the grass, waiting for the big event, whoever it was probably hadn’t noticed he was nearby.

But then, Nishimura’s response made him feel even worse.

“Man, shut up. You haven’t really seen Natsume run. He’s friggin’ fast. We’re lucky to have him.”

Natsume appreciated Nishimura standing up for him, but inwardly he was screaming at him to please stop talking about this.

Then Kitamoto chimed in, “Yeah, one of the first times we saw him outside of school, he basically dashed out of the woods at warp speed. So don’t be rude.”

He saw Kitamoto glance quickly at him, clearly aware might be in earshot.

“Fast? Come on you two, I know he’s your friend, but the guy is sickly. You’re expecting me to believe someone who collapses every other day is a good runner? I’m not saying he’s a bad guy, I’m just not counting on him to win this”. The classmate, who rarely spoke to Natsume, adjusted his glasses.

“You’ll see,” Nishimura said smugly.

Natsume groaned inwardly, straightening up.

He eyed the various students hanging out in different colored headbands, the boy handing out water bottles from the tent, and some teachers talking off to the side.  There was even a chattering crowd on the small set of bleachers. A crowd that included parents.

But worst of all was the looping black track, sizzling in the sun before him. He, Nishimura, and the rest who’d been chosen for the relay race would be lining up on it soon.

He hated Sports Day.

To be fair, this was his least hated sports day so far. He’d never actually experienced sports day while having friends before. When he was a kid, he could expect being pushed to the ground and mocked, or having classmates complaining loudly to teachers about being paired up with the liar. Best case scenario was he’d merely have to feel lonely as he was left out of class celebrations, watching parents and friends cheer others on when there was no one to cheer for him.

But this year he’d been able to cheer wildly for Taki during the bean bag toss, laugh at Tanuma as he was forced to dance awkwardly with the rest of his class during their group performance, and smile as Tanuma got some sweet revenge by beating him at the scavenger hunt. He’d gotten to high five Kitamoto and Nishimura after every victory, and even Sasada once.

So many parents being here was still a little intimidating, though. He kept expecting one of them to yell at him to get away from their kid, even though he knew it wasn’t like that anymore. The Fujiwaras hadn’t been able to come, as they had a relative’s wedding to attend today. Natsume hadn’t even told them today was sports day, because he didn’t want them to feel bad about it. He was also kind of relieved they couldn’t come, because he would have been even more nervous if they were watching.

Overall, it had been a good day. He was basically enjoying himself.

But there was no getting over the dread of his biggest obstacle yet—the relay race. He was really going to have to pay attention to his running. It was such a tough balance…he didn’t want to let down the class, but he also needed to think of…

“Natsume, are you okay?” He blinked, noticing Sasada was suddenly next to him. “You were spacing out a bit.”

“I’m fine! Actually, are you okay?” She looked pale, and she kept fiddling with her glasses. It was strange to see her without the usual air of confidence.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. She’d been chosen for the relay race too, and was looking at the track with almost as much trepidation as he was.

“Sasada! Natsume!”  Nishimura ran forward before Natsume could reassure her. “It’s all up to us!”

“Yay,” Sasada said blandly.

“Whar’a wrong, Sasada?” Nishimura grinned smugly at her “Worried you’re gonna be the sports day cliché?”

“The…what?”

“You’ve seen it on TV, right? In anime and stuff? There’s always the one person who trips during the relay race. They scramble to their feet, tears in their eyes, and pass off their baton…” Nishimura imitated the gesture dramatically. “But don’t worry! You can trip all you want, I’m so fast it won’t matter! No need to be nervous!”

Sasada shook her head, putting her glasses back on. “You know what, your stupidity has calmed my nerves a bit, thank you,”

“Glad to be of service.”

---

Considering all that, Natsume wasn’t exactly surprised when Nishimura was the one who tripped.

Natsume winced when his friend went down, hoping he wasn’t hurt. It would be okay, right? Nishimura was so good-humored. This wasn’t a big deal or anything. He’d just laugh it off and…

Nishimura stumbled up, his knee bleeding, his face burning with shame. Natsume could see his eyes were brimming with tears. Of course he was devastated. Nishimura may act carefree, but he hated letting people down.

Natsume sighed.

Fine then.

“Nishimura!” He called out, offering his hand. “Don’t give up! I’ve got this!”

Nishimura’s face lit up instantly. He jogged as fast as he could and slammed the baton in Natsume’s hand. Natsume faced forward. The others had a massive head start, but that wasn’t enough to make him give up.

A yokai is chasing me, he told himself. A big one with sharp teeth.

And next thing he knew, he was crossing the finish line.

Cheers exploded around him as the other runners caught up, lagging after him. And then, suddenly, what seemed to be the entire class was rushing towards him. He had to resist the urge to put his hands up defensively.

Nishimura slammed into him from the side, embracing him. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was whooping and laughing. Heat spread up Natsume’s neck and face. It was the first time Nishimura had ever hugged him. Or cried so openly in front of him. He knew it was considered fine for guys to cry and hug only when it involved sports for some reason, but it was still a surprise.  He wasn’t used to that kind of intimacy. Not that it was bad. It was kind of nice.

 The rest of his class gathered around him, yelling things like “way to go” and “that was amazing!” Even Sasada, her face still red and sweaty from her run, was screaming her head off and jumping up and down. Kitamoto clapped Natsume on the back and soon several classmates followed suit. Natsume was sure a red handprint was permanently etched on his back now.

“Dude, I knew you were fast, but I didn’t know you were that fast!!” Nishimura yelled through his tears.

“Seriously, do you have a secret running regimen I don’t know about, or is it just natural talent?” Kitamoto said.

Natsume heard some more cheering explode behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see an uncharacteristically excited Tanuma waving at him from the other side of the track, “Congrats, Natsume!”

“Tanuma, you could at least… pretend to care… that our class lost,” said the boy Natsume had gone up against, still doubled over and panting.

“Sorry.”

There was loud whistle from the stands and Natsume saw it came from Taki. The girl next to her had covered her ears. Taki didn’t notice, and let out another impressively strong blast, waving at him. She removed her knuckles from her mouth and shouted “Woo, Natsume!”

Natsume was torn between being happy his friends supported him and so embarrassed he could die.

“I owe you an apology, Natsume,” said the boy with the glasses, whoever he was.

“Hell yeah you do!” Nishimura responded.

“Nishimura…” Kitamoto’s said scoldingly, his eyes flicking to Sasada.

“Ah…I’m sorry too, Sasada,” Nishimura said sincerely. “You really showed me.” (Sasada had been fast enough to give Nishimura a head start, as Natsume suspected she would be, she’d certainly caught up to him out of nowhere plenty of times in the early days of their relationship).

Sasada wasn’t listening, she was looking at a fit girl with short black hair from another class, who was also still panting from the race. “How about that, Chiyo!” she called over to her.

“You win this one, but I’ll get you next time, Jun! Just you wait!” Chiyo called with a matching huge grin and an excited look in her eyes. For some reason Sasada blushed delicately in response*.

“Okay, okay, give him some room to breathe,” Kitamoto said, shooing at the others. They all stepped back, though Nishimura remained by Natsume’s side. Natsume was grateful for Kitamoto, he was dizzy and overwhelmed. He’d had no idea races like this were such a big deal to people. He was more grateful than ever the Fujiwaras weren’t here to add on to all this.

“Look Natsume!” Sasada had finally torn her eyes away from the other girl and was pointing at the stands. “Even the track coach looks impressed!”

“No wonder, you’re faster than half her team,” Kitamoto said. “Bet she tries to recruit you!”

Natsume’s stomach dropped like a stone. Indeed, the track coach, a woman with short brown hair and sharp eyes, was looking at him with interest. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. His personal hell had returned. Had winning a measly race been worth it?

Natsume looked over at Nishimura, who was still jumping up and down and hollering about how he was going to treat Kitamoto, Sasada and Natsume to some manju, not even minding when Kitamoto snarked at him about it how it must be a cold day in hell if the man who sponged off everyone was paying the tab for once. He flashed Natsume another ecstatic grin, and Natsume smiled back.

Yeah, it had been worth it.

--

Natsume had experienced a lot of reoccurring horrors, but the most annoying of them was being hounded by track coaches at every school he went to.

Apparently, spending most of his life running from yokai had made him faster than the average person. He’d been unaware of this until his first year of middle school. When it came time to run the track, Natsume had heard whispers around him, a couple of the kids placing bets on when he’d collapse. One boy had even smacked him on the shoulder and screamed “The liar’s gonna come in dead last!” in his ear.

Natsume hadn’t really done much racing against other kids on the playground, and he’d been sick during a lot of gym classes, so he’d also figured he’d struggle against the other kids. It had completely shocked everyone, himself included, when he blew past them all with ease. He’d reached the finish line only to find the other kids several feet behind him, panting and gawking.

The gym teacher’s eyes had gone wide, and he’d immediately started urging Natsume to join the track club. The man had even gone to Natsume’s current guardians about it.

His guardians had resented that he was getting attention while their real kid was an overlooked benchwarmer on the baseball team. They’d thrown lots of snide comments Natsume’s way. And…well, he hadn’t had a good time on the track team at all. When he’d inevitably had to move again after those same guardians got tired of him, leaving the track club behind had been the silver lining.

Upon transferring to a new school, he’d decided to keep his speed under wraps. But then a coach noticed him running when he was late for class one day and his troubles started all over again. At first he’d avoided the coach by coming up with excuses about responsibilities or detention or headaches, but eventually he was just reduced to hiding under the bleachers when he saw the man.

At another school, a coach tried to recruit him for her team SO aggressively he’d made the stupid mistake of running away when he saw her—and naturally, seeing how fast he could book it had just increased her interest.

So, when he was gathering up all the extra water bottles from the hydration station tent at end of the day, and saw the track coach approach him, his heart started pounding, He fought back his urge to bolt, even a flashbacks filled his brain.

“Natsume, right? I’m Sakuragi, if you don’t remember,” The woman had a wide, genuine smile. He’d only spoken to her a few times, but he was pretty sure she was Taki’s homeroom teacher. “You showed some impressive hustle today! Have you ever thought of joining the track team?”

Fortunately, Natsume had his excuses pre-prepared. “Oh wow, that’s such an honor, Sensei!” He said, continuing to gather up the water bottles while still maintaining polite eye contact. “But, you see, I get sick very easily, so joining a team is a bad idea. I’d just end up being absent a lot, and I’d let the team down.”

“That’s not a problem.” To his horror, the teacher bent down and started picking up the water bottles herself.

“You don’t have to trouble yourself—” He began quickly, but she cut him off, saying “ I’d never require you to come in when you’re not feeling well. You wouldn’t need to worry about calling out sick. We’re a fairly large team, so other students can easily sub in for you if you can’t make a race.”

What kind of laid back track team was this? Never mind, Natsume had a backup excuse. “Well, that’s great, but I’m also concerned about making trouble for my foster parents. It’s a lot to ask them, and I don’t want to put them out. I’d be around to help them less. They’d have to pay for expenses, like when overnight trips at the inn when we go to other towns, or shoes—”

“The school supplies the shoes and other essentials, and we can cover trip expenses if need be. Also, I chat with Ms. Fujiwara at the grocery store often, and she loves bragging about you. I can’t see her turning down a chance for you to develop your skills and enjoy some team spirit!”

Natsume looked down at his shoes, sure that he was tomato red right now. Touko bragged about him? What did he even do worth bragging about? “He only missed ten days of class this month”? “His grades were perfectly mediocre again”? “He hasn’t come home covered in dirt in a while”? “He made five whole friends in school, somehow?”*

Still, through his embarrassment, he felt a little warm inside. She was proud of him. It was a still a new feeling, and he wasn’t sure what to do with this strange, shy happiness.

“Natsume?” The coach’s voice snapped him back to reality. “Is there anything else bothering you, or would you like to come do a practice session with us? If you don’t like it, you don’t have to join. I’ll respect your decision.”

“I…” Natsume was searching for another excuse.  

 Nishimura jogged up. “Natsume, do you need any—" He noticed who Natsume was talking to and his eyes widened. “Oh, sorry to interrupt, Sensei! Natsume, are you being recruited? That’s so cool!”

“Ah, you were his teammate today, right?” Sakuragi smiled at Nishimura kindly.

Nishimura flushed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, Natsume really saved me out there. He’s a dependable guy! And he’s a great runner!”

Nishimura flashed a grin at Natsume, who was wishing he had telepathy so he could tell him to stop. He tried to send a signal by shaking his head slightly, but Nishimura wasn’t looking now.

“Well, that definitely sounds like track team material,” Sakuragi said jovially. She turned to Natsume. “Looks like your friends vouch for you. But it’s up to you, Natsume. Would you mind just stopping by?”

Natsume couldn’t bring himself to directly say no to a teacher in the first place, and now Nishimura and his enthusiasm had been added to the mix. “I’ll give it a try,” he mumbled, forcing a smile.

“Great! Just come to the track after school tomorrow. I think you’ll find it’s a lot more fun than you’re thinking.”

Natsume kept the smile fixed on as they carried the water bottles back into school. When the coach departed and they came ouside again, he and Nishimura met Taki and Tanuma. As always, Nishimura immediately started blushing and fidgeting , but as always, Taki failed to notice.

“I saw you with Sakuragi-sensei!” she said with a smile. “Impressing her is a big feat, Natsume! And don’t worry, she’s really nice.” She put her hand on Natsume’s shoulder, and Nishimura let out a strangled squeak. “She won’t get mad at you, whatever you decide.”

“Are you okay?” Tanuma said softly. Clearly both he and Taki had noticed he wasn’t actually happy right now.

“I’m fine,” Natsume said, letting the fake smile drop away and replacing it with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’ll just check it out. No big deal.”

---

“I don’t get why you’re whining so much about it,” Nyanko-sensei said, trotting beside Natsume as he walked to school the next day. “It’s just one measly meeting. What’s so bad about this running team thing anyway?”

“The people who took care of me when I joined the track team the first time were really bothered by it. They didn’t like having to drive me places, or the attention I got—”

“The Fujiwara’s aren’t like that, so that’s a stupid excuse.”

“That’s true, but it’s more than that,” Natsume sighed. “Last time, I was constantly late or absent. A yokai would attack me or I’d get sick...”

“Wimp.”

“Shut up, Sensei. Anyway, whenever that happened, the coach yelled at me for flaking out. I let everyone down.”

“But this woman said it doesn’t matter if you’re sick and can’t come, right?”

“She says that now, but she might change her mind,” Natsume mumbled.

“You’re so gloomy,” Nyanko-sensei shook his head. “It’s annoying.”

“Look, even if what she says is true, my teammates probably won’t like me. They didn’t last time. And I just…I just hated the feeling of all those people looking at me.”

He’d struggled a bit with just the sports day crowd watching him, but being on a real team was a million times worse. All those people judging, all their hopes riding on him not messing up… He shivered, remembering the way his skin had crawled, the way his breathing turned funny, the way his hands had shook. All those eyes on him…the weight of their gaze had made him want to curl up so small they couldn’t see him anymore.

“And there’s the actual reason. You’re bad with other people and you get stage fright. Boring.” Sensei yawned. “Just get over it. You have yokai trying to eat you all the time, why’s this scary?’

“I’d rather deal with yokai than the track team,” Natsume said emphatically.

Nyanko-sensei scoffed.

“A couple years ago there was this coach who was always chasing after me to recruit me. I was running from her, trying to get off school grounds so she couldn’t follow me, but then I saw that there was this huge yokai on the path out of school. Big fangs, sharp teeth, claws, all that.  I’d have to double back to avoid it, and the coach would catch me. So… I took the better option, and I ran past the yokai.”

“Idiot. Did it attack you?”

“I took a swing at me and knocked me out. But because of that the teacher was reprimanded for making the sickly kid collapse and they threatened to fire her if she ever chased a student again. She stopped trying to ask me after that. So it all worked out.”

“I don’t understand humans,” Sensei sighed. “Anyway, I’m in favor of the track team. If it helps you run faster, that means less of you getting snatched by yokai and less work for me.”

“Stop being lazy and trying to skip out on your bodyguard duties, Sensei. Yokai shouldn’t be chasing me down in the first place, it’s your job to take care of them.”

“I’ve got my own life to live! Stop being so selfish!”

“I’m the selfish one?”

They bickered all the way to the school gate, and though Natsume would never admit it to Nyanko-sensei, it did make him feel a lot better.

---

Part 1 complete! Part 2 to come. This is probably about halfway there, if not more.

Footnotes:

*Yes, Sasada has a sports and academic rival yuri storyline in the background. Yes I'm being self indulgent. It's what she deserves. It probably won't come up much more, I just thought it would be funny. Sasada's having this whole romantic epic while Natsume's worrying about track.

*Touko has been bragging about how kind and helpful you are, Natsume, you dummy. And about the garden he made and how it was good it was and other things Natsume does really well he hasn't noticed. She's also probably noticed he's fast and relatively strong for his size, he's always fetching and carrying stuff for her, but Coach thought she was exaggerating. UNTIL NOW.

[falafelluva]

Can you make a fic where reader gets accused of cheating and kenan believes them so he breaks up with reader. But later find out that it was all a lie, end with fluff please!!🤍🤍

; 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 - ��.𝘺𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘻 ✮

summary: the req basically 😛

warnings: cheating even tho it’s not cheating? Kenan being rude and cocky? arguing, yelling etc. a man being weird towards women? betrayal

author’s note: I hope that this is what u meant anon, or if anything- close to what u meant! 🫡🫶🏽it’s 2:27 am rn, not proofread because I’m going to sleep🥰🙏😂😢

The afternoon sun poured through the window as you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone. You felt content, waiting for Kenan to get home from practice, imagining how you’d surprise him with his favorite dinner.

Things had been good between you two, even with his busy football schedule. You knew how much he was putting into his career, and you were proud of him every step of the way.

Just as you set your phone down, you heard the front door slam open. The noise startled you, and you quickly got up to greet him. But the smile faded from your face when you saw the look on his face—Kenan stood in the doorway, his expression cold and furious, fists clenched at his sides.

“Kenan?” you asked, feeling a mix of confusion and dread. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t play dumb!” he exploded, his voice booming through the apartment. “You think I don’t know what’s been going on?”

“What the hell… Why are you yelling?” you mumbled, your heart racing. The anger radiating off him was palpable, and you could barely keep up with the storm brewing in his eyes.

He took a step closer, his nostrils flaring. “I’ve seen the messages, the screenshots! You’ve been sneaking around behind my back! Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“Kenan, wha—” you tried to interject, but he wasn’t having it.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses!” he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.

“You think you can just do whatever you want without consequences? You’re nothing to me, i swear. I hope you know that I can hurt you ten times worse if I wanted to.” His words stung, and you flinched at the intensity of his anger.

“Is this really how you want to handle this?” you asked, tears threatening to spill over. “I would never cheat on you! You have to believe me!”

“Believe you?” he scoffed, his expression twisted in rage.

“Why should I believe a word you say? You think I’m stupid? Do you know who I am?” His eyes were wild, and you could see the hurt mingling with his anger, creating a storm that threatened to engulf you both.

As you tried to find the right words, he took another step back, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re unbelievable. I’m not doing this. We’re done.” He slammed the door behind him as he stormed out, leaving you standing alone in the empty apartment, your heart shattered into pieces.

The silence that followed was deafening, and you sank to the floor, feeling utterly lost.

How had it come to this?

You knew there were people who envied your relationship, but this felt too cruel, too calculated.

;;

Days passed, and life felt hollow. You barely ate, barely slept, replaying that moment over and over. Every time you tried reaching out, Kenan ignored your calls, leaving your messages unread. It felt like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

Meanwhile, Kenan was hurting too. He threw himself into training, using the physical strain to block out the pain in his heart. But as the days went on, doubts began to creep in.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, that maybe he had been too quick to believe everything without giving you a chance to explain.

Every time he stepped onto the field, he felt the weight of your absence. His teammates noticed his distraction, throwing concerned glances his way. “Hey, man, you alright?” one of them asked during practice. Kenan merely shrugged, unable to voice the turmoil within.

Then one evening, as he scrolled through his messages, he received another DM from an account with no profile picture. It was the same person who had sent him the so-called “proof.” But this time, the tone of the message was gloating.

“Told you bro, don’t show these women no mercy😂”

Kenan’s heart raced as he read the words. His mind began to piece everything together.

The messages, the photos—they were all part of a lie, a deliberate attempt to sabotage your relationship. Realization dawned on him, followed by a wave of regret so heavy it left him breathless. He had believed a stranger over you.

Without wasting another second, Kenan rushed to his car and drove to your apartment, his hands shaking on the steering wheel. When he arrived, he hesitated at the door, fear and guilt gnawing at him.

He knocked softly, waiting, hoping you’d open the door— When you finally opened it, the sight of him brought a surge of emotions: relief, anger, love, and pain all mixed together.

He looked tired, his eyes filled with remorse as he stepped inside.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

You crossed your arms, holding onto the last bit of your strength. “What is there to talk about? You didn’t trust me.”

Kenan took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I messed up. I let other people’s lies get into my head, and I didn’t give you a chance to explain. I’m an idiot.”

You looked at him, the hurt evident in your eyes. “I loved you, Kenan. I still do. But you made me feel like I was nothing to you, like you believed a stranger over me.”

He closed the distance between you, his expression desperate. “I was wrong. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I hurt the person I love most.” He reached for your hand, his voice cracking.

“Please, give me another chance. I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you searched his face, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. You wanted to stay angry, to make him feel the pain he’d caused you. But the truth was, you still loved him, despite everything.

After a long pause, you sighed, your voice soft. “I don’t know if things can go back to how they were, Kenan. But maybe… we can try.”

Relief flooded his face, and he pulled you into a hug, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in his world. “Thank you. I’ll prove to you that I won’t let anything come between us again.”

;;

That night, he stayed with you, talking for hours, rebuilding the trust that had been broken. He promised to listen, to trust, and to be there for you, no matter what anyone else tried to say.

As he held you close, he recounted all the moments that made your relationship special—the late-night talks, the quiet walks, the laughter you shared. Each memory was a reminder of what he almost lost.

“Listen,” he said, his voice low and earnest, “I know I hurt you, and I’m going to do everything I can to make this right. I should have trusted you. I should have known you better than that.”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “I just want us to be honest with each other. No matter what happens, I need to know you’ll talk to me.”

“Absolutely,” he promised. “I’ll always talk to you. I’ll never let anyone come between us again.”

As you lay in his arms, the weight of the past few days began to lift, replaced by the hope of a new beginning. Love had been tested, but it hadn’t broken.

The following weeks were filled with healing and laughter as Kenan made a concerted effort to prove his love for you. He organized little surprises—like picnics in the park and movie nights at home—and slowly, the cracks in your relationship began to mend. The trust was slowly rebuilt with every conversation, every shared moment, until it felt like the betrayal had never happened.

[lovequartz]

to feel the same.

❁ pairing: town doctor!wonwoo x fiancee!reader

❁ genre: fluff

❁ warnings: mention of blood + injury

❁ word count: 1.3k

❁ winter passed and spring came, you're a flower with green leaves and raindrops

❁ notes: this is dedicated to the lovely @jenowithjaem who gave me the inspo behind this piece, thank you <3

you are fixing your hair when you hear your mother call your name. her voice traveling from the front of the house through the open door of your bedroom. you quickly pin a few front pieces and smooth your skirt down before hurrying off to your mother’s side.

she’s standing with the entry door open, and beams when she sees you, “wonwoo is here!” she practically giggles.

in the time wonwoo has been taking to court you, he's been coming by your house more and more often lately. the two of you have been taking walks in the early evening, which was the reason you were fixing yourself earlier. 

“you don’t have to announce his presence every time,” you whine softly as you grab her arm. turning to peek out the door, you smile as wonwoo’s eyes meet yours. he looks handsome as always, but today his glasses are tucked into the breast pocket of his lovely navy blue shirt. 

“good evening,” he says, grinning when he hears you return his greeting in a much more quiet tone, “are you ready? or should i wait a bit longer?” 

you give him an apologetic look, “give me just one minute? i’ll grab my shoes.”

he nods in understanding before you mother gets his attention once more.

“are you sure you don’t want to come in? you know our home is your home after all,” you hear your mother say as you scurry off to find your footwear.

a little later you and wonwoo wave to your mother as she slides the door shut, your arm tucked safely into the crook of his elbow as the two of you make your way down the road. the temperature is lovely and there’s a warm breeze rustling through the trees and their leaves. you wonder if someone like you is allowed to feel this giddy, to be able to bask in the sun’s glow and wonwoo’s simple presence beside you. 

soon all your strolling takes the two of you to the small creek nestled just behind the persimmon orchard, the current a touch fast due to the heavy rain last night. wonwoo grips your hand in his as the two of you meander down the creekbank. a quick movement catches your eye and you spot a small frog near the water’s edge. you gasp before pointing it out to the man next to you.

“wonwoo look! it's a frog,” you say, letting go of his hand to see if you can catch the small friend. it does a tentative hop but surprisingly allows you to scoop it up into your hand, your palm underneath it. 

its little head peeks out from under the arch of your thumb, and you cradle it gently before lifting it to your beau’s eye level. 

wonwoo has a small smile on his face as he brings his own hands to hover just under yours, in case the frog decides to make a leap for it. “indeed it is.”

the two of you coddle the small creature for a few moments more before you eventually set him back on the ground. your hands are muddy so you swish them around in the water of the creek before brushing away an itch at your cheek and standing. 

when you turn to wonwoo he has a look in his eye you can’t quite place, and a smirk tugging at his lips. 

confusion paints your features as you say; “what?”

the man chuckles lightly before stepping closer to you and rubbing his thumb across your cheek, the finger brushing the very bottom of your scar. “i think you managed to get some dirt on your face while you were cleaning your hands.” 

a small twinge of embarrassment flushes through you but you can only continue to stare at wonwoo and mumble a small “oh.”

he hums, looking rather pleased as he continues to touch your face. thumb gently running the line of your scar. part of you wants to flinch away but the other part of you wants to indulge in wonwoo’s attention and affections. so stay still you do.

“you never told me,” his soft voice breaks the silence between the two of you, “how you got it.”

you breathe out a sigh, fingers coming up to curl around the hand that touches your face. “let’s keep walking, i’ll tell you as we do.”

winter age 8 

the winter’s chill bites at your bare fingers, not as cold as it was the previous day but still brisk. your sister had run up ahead of you, her boot marks disturbing the freshly fallen snow as she traverses through the neat rows of persimmon trees. your parents had allowed both of you to meander around outside until dinner was ready, your mother had just begun feeding the stove wood when you’d left. so you and your sister decided that it would be the perfect time to play with the kite your uncle had gifted the two of you a few weeks ago.

“not so far!” you shout to your sister as she continues to trek forward, the kite still sailing high in the wind above your heads. 

“it keeps falling!” she shouts back, “i’m trying to get it to stay up!” 

as her pace slows the both of you watch the kite circle around from a particularly strong gust before it starts descending quickly. 

“see, it's coming down!” the frustration is clear in her voice. 

eventually, the kite lands between the branches of one of the persimmon trees, and your sister tries tugging it free to no avail. 

“you’re gonna rip it! one of us is gonna have to climb to get it,” you say when you finally catch up to her. 

“its gonna have to be you,” she says immediately.

you turn to look at her, protests already ready on your tongue. 

“i’m wearing my new skirt, mother will have my HEAD if i tear it. besides, you’re wearing trousers and you’re smaller so it’ll be easier for you to get up there.” she says before you can get a word in edgewise. 

you sigh heavily, accepting your already decided fate, “fine.”

it doesn’t take you long before you’re able to reach the branches where the kite is wedged. however, due to their height you have to stand up on the branch you’re perched on. carefully, you make your way to your feet, heart pounding as you reach above you. your fingers brush against the fabric of the kite’s side and you lift just a bit onto your toes for a little extra reach. the next thing you know you feel your left foot slip, and all you can hear is your own scream followed by your sister’s.

a dull pain starts to radiate from your back, and you realize you’re on the ground. the left side of your face feels cold, and you wipe at it, thinking you must have snow stuck there from the fall, but when you pull your hand away it is covered in blood. you stare at it blankly before your eyes meet your sister’s who stands over you unmoving, a look of pure horror twisting her features. 

her face is the last thing you remember before everything went black. 

“she said she thought i died,” you say with a chuckle, “she ran screaming to get my parents, and everyone was pretty shook up before they were told i was going to be fine.” your fingers brush against the skin of your cheek.

“i got treated like a princess for the whole week after. my sister was beside herself with guilt, but she knows it wasn’t really her fault. it was a series of unfortunate accidents that ended with my face being the poor victim of a sharp branch.” 

wonwoo looks pensive, his fingers squeezing yours. “poor girl, it must’ve hurt at the time.” 

you immediately feel flustered at his words, stunned into silence as the two of you look at each other. 

“well, just a bit,” you reply, “it was worse when it was healing, it took everything in little eight year old me not to pick at the scab.”

wonwoo hums, lifting the hand in his to press his lips against the back of it. 

“thank you for sharing with me, i’m happy i get to know more about you.” 

❁ notes: thank you always for reading! all these recent works from me have been an honor to write so thank you once again love u all

[mochinomnoms]

"I want all of you. Every piece of you" + Sunlight with azul please! Fluff/nsfw

🦩

azul ashengrotto x gn!reader [tags] — nsfw-ish, fluff, lots of reference to the myth of icarus [wc} - 910 prompt 15: “I want all of you. Every piece of you.” song: Sunlight (Hozier, “Wasteland, Baby!”) note - idk why but i had a hard time with this one, so it's more romantic that nsfw. it's more alluded to it than explicit francesca (1k event)

“I had been lost to you, sunlight / And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight / Oh, your love is sunlight”

Growing up in the deep sea, the only light was provided by bioluminescent algae shaped into lanterns. Not from sunlight. Growing up in the deep sea, the only warmth Azul experienced was from the embrace of his mother. Not from sunlight. 

So the early day sun peaking through the roof opening of the grotto over his eyes was still foreign, despite his time living on the surface. The warmth of the light was pleasant, however, it was currently blocked by something, or someone. 

“Azul, love?” you spoke softly as he sunk deeper into the water until only his eyes were visible. He felt a warmth in his cheeks as you admired him. 

“Come on, let me see you. My pretty, pretty boy.” 

It wasn’t the first time you’d seen him like this, but you’d only seen his merform once during his overblot. Azul wasn’t fond of the idea of letting you see him in his natural form, though. He spent so much time specially curating his image as a human, someone sleek, neat, and confident. Not this…squishy, wriggly, clumsy form he was born with. 

He was a creature suited for nothing but the dark, cold spaces of the deep sea, only seen by the bioluminescent patterning on his skin. 

“Are you sure you wouldn’t want to go back to the docks?”

He flinched as he heard a splash, hiding behind a rock as he felt you move through the water. Azul rested his forehead against the cool surface of the stone, sighing and closing his eyes. 

“Please, Angelfish, are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to scare you…”

The sound of water alerted him to your movement again, though he couldn’t make out where you were without 

“I want you.” A soft hand threaded through Azul’s hair, making him open his eyes and look up at your form. You were sitting on the rock he rested against, leaning down as your hair fell over your shoulders the closer you came. The sunlight peering through the cave roof shone over you like a halo, you looked like a painting an artist made of an angel. 

“All of you. Please? My love?”

Despite his mind screaming at him to back up, to not let you touch his slimy, squishy skin, his tentacles had a mind of their own. 

One of his arms curled around your hand, another around your waist, two more around your hips, drawn to you. Drawn to your affections that you so freely give to a greedy man like he. Azul sighed again. 

“You’ve taken the water-breathing potion, yes?”

“Mm-hm, just a bit ago.”

“… Good.”

You gasped as Azul dragged you into the water as he sunk backwards. The water under the grotto was dark, almost black, except for the rays of sunlight turning the water into an ethereal green. Once again, Azul found himself beguiled by your visage, hair and clothes floating around you…his arms tightening his grip at the sight. 

They truly had a mind of their own, drawing their energy from Azul’s true thoughts and urges. And how could he resist when you so freely offered yourself, love and body, to him.

Azul tangled himself in your embrace, claiming your mouth with his, drawing your tongue into his mouth to suck and explore. He reveled in the whimper that left you, tightening his hold as his tentacles slithered under your clothes, groping and suckers leaving behind marks. 

“Mmmh, Azul…” You gasped, exposing your neck for him to suckle marks, trailing down your body. Several of Azul’s arms gently pushed your clothes and undergarments off to have easier access to you. His suckers attached themselves to your sensitive area, shivering in its taste. 

“I almost forgot the benefits of being in this body… I can feel and taste your entire being with more than just my tongue. Your pulse drums beneath my grip, the salt on your skin floods my senses, and the sweetness down here.”

One tentacle with a spade-shape was brushing over your hole, pressing in slowly as you clenched onto Azul’s shoulders at the sudden stretch. 

“S-slower, Azul please, it’s too much—AAAH~”

Pressing his tentacle dick into your heat, Azul nuzzled his nose against your own as he fell deeper into desire. He shuddered at the surrounding tightness, getting drunk at the pleasure of your being, at the kisses you fluttered against his face, at the thought of permanently mark you as his with more than just his seed. 

Like Icarus reaching for his love Apollo, Azul would gladly risk flying too close to the sun, and feel the intense burn of its fiery gaze. Unlike Icarus, the way you looked at him like he was the celestial body itself made him certain that you’d never burn him and cast him back to the dark sea. 

Perhaps it was the intoxication from the sybaritism in his veins, bringing him and closer to an orgasm, that would let you two see the god. But he had no need when you were before him, his warmth. The Apollo to your Icarus, the root to his pleasure.

The cry you let out as he brushed against a particularly sensitive spot, throwing your head back as the sun shone on you like a heavenly being, reaffirmed you as his own sunlight.

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[small-sinclair]

Fix Me

@sketchy-rosewitch and @fluffy-little-demon thought of you.

Swap!Bo x reader

******

You raised Bo’s scarred wrist to your lips, kissing them carefully. His harden eyes and murduress glare faded away like a melted candle. The knife by your side lowers as reality comes back to him. He steps away as pain ripped through his body. No one saw beauty in him, no one did.

So why did you? Why didn’t you run like the rest? His brother told him… Vincent told him…

He lifts his welding mask just enough for you to see his scarred lips. “…fix…me…” a horsed voice whispered. “Fix m-me.”

Even though your friends were being slaughtered outside his shop, outside his shelter that felt like a cave, you felt your heart break. What did his family do to him? What did they say to him? There’s so much pain in his voice and shadow. The mirror between him and the other world was too much for him to handle.

“Poor creature,” you sighed sadly, coming towards him. Hesitating, you lifted your hands under his wielding mask and watch him flinch from your touch before giving in. In your fingers tips, you felt warm tears falling. “What type of lies have you known?”

Bo closes his eyes as your hands lifted his mask off, and he felt sad when you gasped in shock. He turned away his scarred, disfigured half face. “Mon-monster.”

You guide his head back and leaned up, kissing the scars by his lips. “No, not at all,” you corrected. “Beautiful.”

His heavy blue and ghost white eyes look at you in pain. “Fix me, please?” His eyes close as he starts to cry, “I-i beg you. Please? Please fix me.”

You lean up once more and place a kiss on his lips. He shivers as his tears become fat and heavy. He shivers as he feels everything in his bones heal. Every burn and scrape, every lash and pull, faded away. He felt as if he was seeing the sun for the first time. He lifts you up with ease, having you hang on his hips, and feels his own fears fade.

He feels your lips pull away and he mindlessly follows. He steals a kiss, hungry and thankful, then looks into your eyes. He’s speechless. It’s like he was dunk in stars. He felt healed… he felt like he finally belong.

“Beautiful,” you said again, your hand cupping under his blue eye. “Beautiful.”

“Fixed,” he said, a small grin forming on the corner of his lips. “Fixed.” He leaned his forehead against yours and basked in your light. “Loved.”

Beauregard left as if he was human for the first time.

[yanderecrazysie]

Galeophobia (Kirishima)

Please don’t request any phobias. I just felt like making this for fun.

Be kind to me, I'm still not good at writing NSFW

Title: Galeophobia

Pairings: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, mershark Kirishima, pirate reader, marking, NSFW, NON-CON, belly bulge, excessive cum

Phobia: The fear of sharks

Normally, the setting sun is something that makes you smile, its beautiful pink-and-orange hues are a feast for the eyes. Here and now? It feels as though it is taunting you as your water sloshes over the deck of your sinking ship.

How can nature be so beautiful, yet so cruel?

The storm is completely gone- there’s no sign that it ever happened. No sign, save for one wooden ship taking on water. The jolly rogers above you wave feebly in the light wind before crumbling in on themselves as even the air falls silent. You sigh wearily.

After all the danger you’d put yourself in to get rich, sinking serenely in the middle of calm waters, all of your comrades having fled on lifeboats. Leaving the captain to go down with the ship.

It’s a dumb tradition that the pirates of your country take part in, you thought dully, so why did I bother following it? You wished you weren’t quite so honorable. 

The water ripples below your lazy perch on the ship’s front railings, now reaching past the deck and slowly inching towards you. Somewhere off in the distance, you see something shimmer in the sunset’s pink-tinged water.

You squint, confused, as something bright red begins rising in the clear water right below you, on the end of your ship and the open ocean. Water breaks at the surface as the crimson object reveals itself to be spiky hair on the head of a handsome tan-skinned man with equally-red, intense eyes.

At first, you think he must be dead. After all, how else could there be someone out here in the middle of the ocean, unless they were from a ship already sunken below? But no, the man gazes at you with a lively expression, smiling brightly at you as though he’s never been so happy to see someone else. 

The next conclusion fills you with hope: there must be land nearby! Surely he had swum from an island to your ship. But how far away was it? You look in every direction and see nothing but water.

“Where do you come from?” You ask urgently, “It’s not too far is it? I’m not a strong swimmer.”

The man laughs loudly, “Don’t worry, I got you, babe.”

You wrinkle your nose at the pet name but hold your tongue. After all, this redhead was the only thing between you and the bottom of the ocean.

He holds out his arms as though he’s ready to catch you, “Come on down, babe. I don’t bite. Much.”

He flashes you a smile and you gasp. His teeth are unnaturally sharp and triangular, nothing like a human’s. For the first time, you feel a sense of foreboding and your heart pounds in your chest. 

Your gaze falls below his bare abs under the water and you’re shocked to see that instead of bare legs, there’s gray and white smooth skin that ends in a sharp fish tail. From the shape and the earlier glance at his teeth, you surmise he’s some sort of shark merman. Not human, in any case.

“What are you?” You shriek, wrapping your arms around your legs protectively, all too aware of how close the water was to you now.

The shark-man grins, flashing those sharp teeth at you once more, “My name’s Kirishima. What’s yours, babe?”

“Stay away from me, you fish freak!” You seethe, pulling your compass from your pocket and heaving it at him as hard as you can. It bounces off his chest with a thunk but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “Wait until after I’ve drowned to eat me!”

Kirishima sighs, a soft pout to his features as he tells you, “List babe: you’re either coming down on your own or you’re going to sink.”

The reality of the situation dawns on you just as you feel water licking at your toes. You were going to be eaten by this half-shark, half-man creature. All that would be left of you would be your bones on the bottom of the ocean, alongside your trusty ship. 

Hot tears prick your eyes as you let yourself slide off the railing into the water. If my death is coming, then let it be quick, you thought sadly.

Kirishima blinks in surprise before a smile spreads across his face. This time, his lips are pulled over those vicious teeth, and you can’t help but think it’s a little cute. He reaches his hand out to brush away a few stray tears, but that just causes more to spill.

Strong arms wrap around you and you close your eyes, ready for death. It doesn’t come. Instead, Kirishima nuzzles into your neck, cooing softly into your ear as he holds you close.

He pulls you away from the sinking ship, most of which is already underwater. Your first and only ship- you feel more tears slip down your cheeks. It’s gone now, there’s no getting it back.

“Shh, it’s alright, babe.” Kirishima shushes you softly as he swims farther away, tugging you along through the water. You shiver in his grasp and he takes notice, stopping immediately to run his hands over your body, “Oh man, you’re cold all over.”

The grin that cracks across his face is mischievous and predatory at the same time, “I know how to fix that.”

Something cold and hard brushes against your butt and your heart stops all together before it starts up tenfold again. Don’t tell me he means…

Incredibly sharp teeth pierce through the skin on your neck and you let out a scream. Warm blood pools on the surface as he sucks gently before releasing with a pop. He takes a look at his handiwork- at the wound swelling on your neck- and has the audacity to look proud. 

Kirishima presses against you as he begins peeling your clothes from your skin. Something very large and very hard pokes against your thighs and, although you cannot see it, you already have an idea of what it is. Curiosity has you briefly wondering if it looks like a human’s or not.

You don’t have a chance to look down at it from the angle he’s holding you but, once he tears your pants from your body in a violent, eager motion, you quickly get to know what it feels like. It seems to be shaped the same as any human male’s dick, but it’s much larger than what you thought was possible. 

The bulbous head pushes against your unguarded pussy, pressing and pressing until pop- it forces its way inside. You expected unimaginable pain, but you’re instead overrun with pleasure.

The cock fills you out with each inch shoved deeper. It stretched your insides out and, when you look down, you see a visible bulge in your stomach. He’s crammed into you so much your little human body can barely take it.

Kirishima holds you still while he forces his shark cock deeper and deeper. The bulge in your belly is bigger than ever when he comes to a stop. Unconsciously, your hand moves and puts a hand over the bump in your stomach and you hear the man behind you moan with pleasure as you accidentally massage his cockhead.

The thrusts begin, more brutal than you could ever anticipate. Kirishima uses his arms to keep you in place while he fucks into you, tearing apart your vagina and womb easily with his monster cock. 

You writhe with pleasure, barely able to move from your positioning but trying all the same. It’s all too much- his dick is pressed up against every nerve and pleasure spot you have, each thrust hits all the right places.

Kirishima grabs your hips and bend your body a little, moving you into a position where he can fuck you even deeper and harder. It isn’t long before you come undone on his cock, twitching and spasming from the intense pleasure he’s giving you.

Your pulsating walls prove to be too much for the redhead, and he follows you shortly after. His cum floods your insides, inflating your belly a little around the bulge and filling you so completely that some escapes around his cock and into the water around you, making the water turn more milky than clear.

Your eyes roll back in your head as he rolls his hips, getting out those last few drops of cum. His giant cock finally softens and slips out, dirtying the water even more with the cum that escapes your stuffed-full womb.

“Yeah, I’m keeping you.” Kirishima says, grinning widely as he pulls you close. You don’t bother fighting it as he gives a kick of his tail and takes off swimming with you snug in his arms. 

You can feel cum still rushing out of you as he whisks you away to wherever it is he plans to keep you.

[sorrowfulrosebud]

I got idea from your keiko story. What if reader somehow meets kid shigaraki?

ANON. I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD. (Consensually of course)

Content: reader finds kid Shigaraki and takes care of him (sobs)

Genre: angst, a lot of fluff tho so it cancels out

“Okay, do I have everything? Keys, purse? Yep, looks like I do,” you reassured yourself as you set off to the store. The looming thought of the hot summer sun sent ironic shivers through your body, days lolling about on the couch sleepily when your boss wasn’t demanding every second of your time.

You locked the door hurriedly, determined to stock up on essentials, as well as some treats for your kitten, and set on your way. Your earphones nestled comfortably in your ears, drowning out the whines of crying children and rowdy school students by blaring your favourite music. It was a beautiful day nonetheless, birds twittering softly as the sun beat down on you. Your bag thumped lightly against your side, providing a steady rhythm alongside your music.

The trek was relatively easy; the local convenience store wasn’t even a 10 minute walk from your house and you were soon on your way back to your beloved princess kitten, Freya, with an armful of essentials (plus a few goodies). Music thudded from your earphones noisily, distracting you from looking properly where you were going until you nearly fell over from an unknown obstacle.

“What the hell?!” You were ready to cuss the fucker out, until you looked down.

A small child, couldn’t have been much older than six years old, stared emptily back. No. The look wasn’t empty. It was hollow, as if a child was stuck in a body it didn’t belong in. His hair was a beautiful powder blue, long and stark. It was ashy too, and slightly greasy. You assumed it was from days, possibly weeks, of parental neglect. Some of the thicker strands were matted at the back, and his fringe fell heavily over his face.

When your eyes connected, something shattered deep within your chest. Small orbs that would normally be filled with tears at the idea of being lost were totally empty. Despite the lack of emotion on the poor boy’s face, you could see some small flecks of red amongst the vast space of white.

Blood was everywhere; on his face, deep in his eyebrows, caked under his nails that he held oh so tightly. The poor baby was in trouble, and you were desperate to know why. You removed a headphone and crouched down, placing the plastic bags gently either side of you.

Each move was tentative and slow, like the shivering lamb in front of you was going to bleat and run away.

“Hey there sweetheart, are you lost? Did you lose your parents?” You questioned him softly. The boy tightened up at your question, before tears started to fill his waterline. His hands wrung tightly against each other before lifting one up to scratch his neck.

“I-I didn’t mean it!” He choked out. The tone of his voice caught you severely off guard; instead of being soft or rowdy like a regular child, he sounded strained. Not unlike nails on a chalkboard, you found yourself flinching. The scratching grew more intense as you looked on in anxiety.

“Woah, hey little guy! You could really hurt yourself doing that!” You brought your arm up to stop him scratching, before flinching backwards due to a blood-curdling scream.

“NO, PLEASE DON’T!!” He shrieked, hands covering his grimy face and fell to his sides. The petrified baby was trembling profusely despite having fallen to the ground in his fear. Tears dampened his once dry and crusty cheeks, little torso shaking in heaving breaths.

A beetle that was pottering near his hand’s disintegrated immediately, and the dots started to connect. You paused; you had to be careful about this.

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t touch you, but you might change your mind after you hear my quirk. Do you want to know what it is?” You remained on his level. Slow, and gentle. Like taming a wild kitten.

This seemed to rouse the boy from his oncoming anxiety attack as he looked at you tearfully. He seemed to consider the idea, before nodding his head dolefully. A large grin overtook your features as you presented your hand.

“My quirk is called equilibrium. It means that I can balance out quirks and maintain a constant state. In exchange for being able to being ‘immune’ to quirks, I usually end up with a killer migraine that lasts a few days. It normally depends on how strong the quirk is, so I don’t really use it a lot. Isn’t that cool?!” You asked him excitedly.

The boy looked at you with curiosity. You let out a small chuckle.

“So, what I’m saying is, you can touch me and I won’t disappear. I promise you,” you solemnly swear to him, extending your pinky finger. Tenko looked at it in pure fear, almost as if the devil himself tainted it.

“I understand that you’re frightened, but you’re dirty, walking around the street with no shoes. I want to help you,” you whispered to him gently. Tenko seemed to light up at your statement.

A tiny pinky extended to you, trembling but still willing. It wrapped itself around you, and you almost shuddered at the texture of his skin. Nonetheless, you continued to loop your fingers around his small hand until you were fully holding his hand. Tenko stared at you with tears pricking his eyes again. He could… touch you?! You smiled softly.

“I told you, see? You can’t hurt me,” you promised. Tenko couldn’t help the tears that trickled down his malnourished cheeks as he dove into a hug. Your eyes widened; just what the hell has this poor baby been through? Your arms shifted under him to cup him closer to you.

“Do you want to come to my house? It’s not that far, so we can get you cleaned up, fed and then find out what to do with you,” you murmured into his ears. Tenko thought for a moment before nodding, his shaggy hair tickling your cheek.

Tenko rearranged himself to wrap his arms around your neck as you grabbed the bags that you previously dropped and nestled his legs around you.

==================================

The journey was only 10 minutes, and yet Tenko had dozed off on the way. His small snores rumbled softly in your ears as you fiddled in your pockets for the keys. Tenko jolted awake at the sound before realising where he was.

“Mph, are we there yet?” He whined sleepily, dry fists rubbing against his eyes. Your cat meowed at the new smell in her home, shaking the sleep off and meowing indignantly.

You set Tenko down with a slight grunt; carrying a small child and 3 grocery bags was not an easy feat. You knelt back down to Tenko’s level and gently rested your hand on his shoulder.

“Now, I need to know your name. I think it’s silly that we don’t know each other’s name, so let’s introduce ourselves before we start calling each other sillier nicknames,” you giggled, earning a small smile from the boy.

“I’m (Y/N), nice to meet you,” you said warmly, holding out your hand. Tenko paused before giving you his hand back.

“I’m Tenko Shimura,” he mumbled back.

“Well Tenko, I think you need a bath. Am I alright to run you one?” You asked him. He thought for a moment before nodding his heavy head.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

==================================

The bath water was an absolute godsend to Tenko’s fractured body. The soothing smell of your cherry bakewell scented bath gel calmed Tenko’s nerves as he glanced around the bathroom.

“Is the water alright in there, sweetheart? It’s not too hot is it?” You shouted from your bedroom, gathering soft fluffy towels.

“N-no. Its… nice, thank you,” he tried shouting back, voice cracking. He observed the bath water as he waded his hands through it. Once clear as diamond, the water slowly shifted to a murky brown. Chunks of dried blood dropped into the water, splashing back into Tenko’s face. He let out a whimper; he must look disgusting.

Your soft rapping at the door brought him out of his thoughts.

“Tenko? Am I alright to come in, little lamb? I can help you wash your hair if that’s okay?” You asked him gently.

“U-um… yes please,” he nodded back. You opened the door and smiled at him to reassure his jolting nerves.

“You’re certainly looking cleaner, little lamb! Look at the colour of the tub!” You giggled before feeling your heart pang at the tears forming in Tenko’s eyes.

“Oh no, I’m sorry sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you upset,” you rubbed his hair to comfort him. Tenko’s eyes grew wider as he started to sob louder in the tub. The feeling of something so simple as rubbing his head when he’s sad was so alien to him. God, you hated whoever did this to him.

“That’s it my little lamb, let it out. That’s a good boy, just cry until you can’t any more,” you crooned sympathetically, rubbing his head and wiping away tears.

And so, Tenko did just that. Cried. He cried until no more tears would come out, he cried until his head started to hurt, he cried for everything. For his mother, for his sister and for Mon. And oh, how he cried for his dog who provided more comfort than any member of his family.

==================================

When Tenko woke up again, he was bundled up in blankets on a couch that felt worlds different than the leather one at his house. This was soft and warm, with needlefelt and crocheted cushions. He lifted his sleepy head up before jolting his hands away. But the crumbling of the couch never came.

Tenko glanced down and was met with a small pair of winter gloves, cut so that Tenko’s fourth and pinky finger were concealed.

“Ah, you woke up! You worried me for a second there, little lamb. You kinda passed out on me in the bath, so I cleaned you up and bundled you up on the couch,” you rambled on as you set down a glass of milk for him.

“Here sweetheart, drink up. You must have hurt your voice badly,” you nudged it to him as he readjusted himself comfortably.

“T-thank you,” he mumbled brokenly, voice still strained from all of the crying. He took the first gulp before realising just how thirsty he was. Next thing you knew, the glass was empty as Tenko huffed and puffed.

“Wow little lamb, you must have been thirsty, hmm? I’ll bet you’re hungry too?” You guessed. Tenko nodded his head quickly, scared that you’ll pull back your offer. You smiled at his slight change of demeanour.

“That’s alright, I’ll go make you something now. How does Katsu curry sound?”

Tenko’s eyes lit up.

“T-that sounds good thanks,” he mumbled happily, playing with his fingers shyly. You nodded at him and told him to get comfortable.

As you cooked, Tenko remained on the couch and looked around. Your apartment was cozy, filled to the brim with trinkets and photos of your friends and family. Soft knitted blankets dotted around the room, a large scratching post for your cat as well as numerous toys.

Tenko jumped as he felt a slight shift in the couch. The small black, white and grey cat he saw earlier was staring at him, sizing him up for a moment before nestling into his side. She kneaded the blanket that pooled around his knees, purring away.

Tenko thought for a moment before tentatively stroking the gap between her ears, pleased when the purring increased tenfold.

“I see you’ve become friends with my cat,” you giggle as you present two steaming bowls.

“She’s lovely,” he murmured shyly, petting her a little more confidently. You hummed in acknowledgement as you set the bowls down as well as some cutlery.

“Now, eat up. Then, we have to go to the police and see what happens next,” you smiled at him as ice flooded his blood.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. Nothing is going to happen to you. You’re only a child, and you clearly didn’t mean to kill anyone. I’ll have to check if you have any more family that can take you in,” your tone softened as you looked at Tenko’s face.

“I-I don’t have anyone else. A-all of my f-family was in the… the-,” he started crying again, gloved hands coming to reach his neck. You took his hand in yours and rubbed it soothingly, before lifting him up and placing him in your lap. Tenko buried his face into your neck and sobbed whilst you stroked his hair.

“I know, little lamb, I know. If that’s the case, then I’m going to look into adopting you myself, if that’s what you want?” You looked at him as you asked him.

Tenko’s eyes lit up before dimming again.

“B-but my quirk hurts people. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me. I’ve already hurt so many people,” He whimpered. Your heart ached looking at the young boy.

“My quirk is perfectly compatible with yours, and as long as you wear those gloves then you have no reason to worry. You’ve already seen just how mean people can be with people with a quirk like yours. If you stay with me, then I can protect you and help you,” you lifted Tenko’s chin to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart, it’s a cruel, mean world for people who society deem ‘villains’. You have been hurt and ignored by these people, and I want to make sure that doesn’t happen again. You’re only a small boy, you didn’t deserve what happened to you. It’s not your fault. It was never your fault. I can help you learn to control your quirk to prevent accidents like this again. I know it hurts now, but we can get through this. I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

Tenko flung himself deeper into your chest and sobbed until his throat was raw. In the past few hours, you had shown him such kindness that it overwhelmed him, on a level that only his mother dared display. Throughout the day, you had a warm glow radiate from within you. Tenko knew he wouldn’t have anyone else look after him.

You cuddled Tenko closer to you as he settled down.

“Now, let’s eat before the food goes cold,” you smile.

“Okay mama.”

==================================

“Tenko? Tenko, hurry up! You’re gonna be late for your first day!” You yelled up the stairs to your adopted son.

“I know, ma! I can’t find the extra pair of gloves you gave me,” he yelled back, rootling the Eraserhead backpack you gifted him. It was his first day at UA Hero Academy, and your nerves were just as shaky as his. He eventually found them, relieved at the sight as he readjusted his tie agitatedly.

“Do you have everything? Lunch, your creams, your throat spray?” You fussed over him, straightening his tie and smoothing his blazer lapels.

“Damn ma, you were rushing me out the door and now you’re gonna make me late,” he groaned, but cracked a light smile.

You looked at him. He had improved so much since you first took him in. His hair was cleaner, his skin had better creams, his lips were smeared in soothing lip balms and his allergies were nearly a thing of the past. The thought of the young, helpless boy you took in using his once destructive power for the better of society brought tears to your eyes.

“H-hey, don’t get all emotional ma! What’s the matter?!” He fussed, stopping when you smile at him.

“I’m so proud of you, Tenko. More than you’ll ever know. Now, go be the best hero that anyone has ever seen in UA!” You wiped your tears as you hugged your son, feeling him tremble slightly in return.

“Thanks ma. For everything.”

[luveline]

sorry if this is basic- but miguel with reader having nightmares?? Ty! <3

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Miguel's already awake when you stir. Sitting up in bed, a lightweight tablet against his thigh with schematics for a slightly more optimised ADJF (autonomous dimension-jump facilitator) open and burning into his retinas one pixel at a time. 

You sleep badly, sometimes. More than a hundred moons ago, before sharing his bed was the norm for you, before Miguel knew how best to bring you down, something awful happened. A strike against an anomalous Doc Ock turned bad. You got thrown down and concussed, enough wits about you to watch with clarity but no strength to stop it as an octobot culled a civilian two feet in front of you. 

It bothers you often. You tell him less. You can't run from it in your sleep, arms locking up against your chest, your body inching closer to his under the sheets like you're looking for him. 

He puts the tablet frame on the nightstand and turns to you. 

Your elbow digs into his ribs. He frowns and takes your wrist, pulling your hand down to your thigh. "Cariño," he murmurs, laying down next to you to sweep over your face with a fond concern. "Es un mal sueño. Nada más." It's a bad dream. Nothing more. 

You make a sound. Not quite a whimper but a hurting pull of air. Miguel frowns and wraps his arms around you, pulling your sleeping weight onto his chest. 

"Estas bien. Cálmate, mi corazón," he says, his lips barely parted. It's okay. Calm down, my heart. 

He waits for the flinch. It comes every time you have one of these nightmares, like you've missed a step. You wake with a harsh gasp and racing pulse, the heel of your palm pressed to his heart as you jolt, your head nearly slamming into his chin. 

"Miguel?" you ask. 

He hates that you actually sound scared. 

"I'm here," he says. 

"You're here," you say, breathing funny. You inhale too much and exhale too little. 

Miguel isn't confident, but he can act it. He strong arms you, your face to his, your tight shoulders under his hand. He rubs your thumb into the tensed muscles there unapologetically. The pressure is unkind, and it snaps you back into place, so to speak. 

"It was that dream again," you explain unnecessarily. 

"I know."

He pulls you, hoping you'll lay down again, but you stay put. He pulls again. You're a statue, lethargic and lost in your own mind for long, quiet minutes. All he can do is stroke the back of your hand.

You squint at the bleary light slugging in from the window. "Shit, sorry. Did I wake you? It's so early." You stroke his cheek, but your hand is shaking. 

"I was awake. I don't need you to worry about me, I'm worried about you," he confesses, bringing his pinky finger to the corner of your eye and stroking downward. You look at one another. His gaze is patient, unfailing, while yours is wired wrong, tears shiny along your waterline. "Don't look so sad, mi cielo. Please." 

"I keep seeing his face." 

"I know," he says, bringing his second hand up to cup both of your cheeks. "Hey, look at me." 

"I don't want his face to look like yours. Like, I'll start seeing you in my dreams instead of him. Is that– is that selfish? To want it to stay his face?" 

Miguel doesn't know if that's selfish, but he knows you aren't, not at your core. You make mistakes, you give in to temptation often and poke fun at others, but you do what's best for people when it counts. You would've saved the civilian if you could have. You would've died for him. 

"You're not selfish," he says. "You're brave. Now lay down. The sun has some work to do." 

"You don't need to go?" you ask, sighing quietly as his hands trace down your neck, your shoulders. 

He drags you into his chest. One arm curls around your back like an iron bar, corded muscle taut behind you. Miguel can't stop the nightmares and he's awful with words, but the physical is easy. He can hug you and hold you and press barely there kisses to the top of your head while you settle down. He can lay there with you for a few hours while you get some much needed rest. 

[heythereprettyblueeyes]

begin again

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

summary - Satoru is so completely different from your ex, you have no idea what to do. luckily, he's there to help

warnings - slight angst, mentions of abuse (from a previous relationship, not Gojo), hurt to comfort, Gojo beats up your ex

a/n - please i love soft Gojo so much 🥰🥰

Gojo had always been a good friend to you, but once you started dating him it was like he upped the ante on his kindness, love and admiration. He treated you like a goddess, putting you on a pedestal and practically worshipping the ground you walked on. It was strange, so new to you, but it also made you happy.

Something you hadn't been in your previous relationship.

"Good morningggg, beautiful!" A cheerful voice met your ears as you walked into the school.

Gojo was standing there, looking like he had been waiting for you, his smile brighter than the sun when he saw your figure walking in. Your cheeks warmed up, a soft smile tugging at your lips as the white-haired man rushed over to scoop you up into his arms.

"Good morning, Satoru," you giggled. "You're in a very good mood today."

"Well of course I am, you just arrived!" He peppered your face with kisses, as if he hadn't seen you for days, when in fact it had only been a few hours.

You couldn't help but smile more at his words, butterflies blooming in your stomach. He always made you feel good, and it was like he never had to try. Just his presence was warm and comforting enough to put you at ease.

"Wait, aren't you supposed to be training Megumi, Yuji and Nobara??"

"...Technically, yes."

You just laughed, and Gojo offered a goofy smile. He loved hearing you laugh, even more so when he was the one causing your laughter.

He decided to take you out for lunch today. He wouldn't tell you where, but when you found yourself standing next to him outside your favourite restaurant you understood why. He'd wanted to surprise you, and it was extremely sweet gesture. But...

"Satoru, it's too-"

"Forget the pricing," he pouted, looking like an overgrown child, but it was cute. "You just seemed a little down today, so I wanted to cheer you up!"

Green flags. Green flags everywhere with this man. So unlike your past relationship, you wondered if you had dreamed Satoru into reality. Surely this couldn't be real. He couldn't be real, he was too good to be true.

"Come on," he put his hand on the small of your back and guided you into the restaurant. He pulled your chair out for you and pushed it back in when you were seated before he took his own seat. "Order anything you want, because if you don't then I'm ordering the most expensive thing on this menu."

You laughed and shook your head at his teasing, smiling as you told him what you wanted. You stared at him lovingly as he relayed the order to the waittress, his hand snaking its way across the table to find yours. He interlocked his fingers with yours, and didn't let go. You blushed, looking at your intertwined hands and feeling warmth surge through your body.

That warmth, however, was quickly extinguished when a familiar voice rang out a few tables away.

"(Name)? Is that you? Long time no see!"

You gripped Satoru's hand tighter, trying your best not to shut your eyes in terror. You knew that you would only see flashbacks of the abuse you suffered at the hands of the owner of that voice.

"(Name), come on, it's me!"

The flashbacks hit you full force.

Waking up on the cold floor after you'd been knocked out, a fresh bruise decorating your cheek. Curled up over the toilet, retching and coughing up food and blood as you clutched your gut, a dark bruise already forming. Flinching every time he walked into the room, crying your eyes out after he yelled at you for something or the other, being unable to sleep with him next to you in fear of him waking up and beating you for something that happened in his dream. Being unable to sleep because you were already living in a nightmare.

"Hey, you okay?" Satoru squeezed your hand, already on guard and worried about your reaction to that man. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Can we go?" You asked quietly, breath shaky. "Please?"

"Is it because of him?" Satoru asked, "Did he do something to you?"

Before you could answer, a hand clapped down on your shoulder. Your entire body stiffened and you flinched, causing Satoru's eyes to narrow. He knew the signs, and he was steadily becoming angry with this man's presence.

"Who's this, sweetheart? Your new boyfriend?"

You couldn't look at him. You didn't want to. Your breathing came out fast and uneven, and you could already feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"I'll only ask you once," Satoru's tone was colder than you'd ever heard it, "Take your hand off my girlfriend and leave us alone. In fact, leave the restaurant entirely."

"Or what?" Your dumb ex challenged, a mistake on his part.

"I didn't want to cause a scene, especially since this is her favourite restaurant," the white-haired sorcerer kissed the back of your hand as he stood up, a silent promise that everything will be okay.

You relaxed. He made you feel so safe, so secure, that you believed his quiet reassurance and felt your body stop trembling.

"But you are making her very uncomfortable, after I told you nicely to leave." Gone was the sweet, friendly Gojo Satoru you had known and come to love.

This was the scary, powerful Gojo Satoru who could as easily end your ex's life as he could breathe.

What happened next was a blur. You hadn't even known that Satoru was such an adept hand-to-hand combatant, because every enemy he'd faced he'd used sorcery. But here he was beating your ex up - in the alley because he'd had the decency to drag him out of the restaurant - like it was nothing. You normally don't condone violence, especially after what you went through, but Satoru wasn't even hitting him that hard, and he was also getting what he deserved. All your boyfriend had to do was smack him on either his forehead or his shoulder and your ex went tumbling backwards like he'd tripped.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that," Satoru immediately apologised to you when he was done warning your ex to not come anywhere near you or he wouldn't be as nice next time. "And I'm sorry he ruined our date."

As Satoru pressed gentle, loving kisses to every part of you he could reach, you felt yourself tearing up again. But for a different reason this time, and then smile on your face told him as much.

"You're amazing," you managed to choke out, "But even that's an understatement." You took a shaky breath. "Thank you, Satoru."

"No need to thank me," he pulled you into a warm, soothing hug, "I would never let anyone touch you again, and I hate the fact that I'm letting him off so easy after what he did to you."

"You can't murder him!" You giggled, wiping your tears of joy.

He reached up to do that before you could, "For you, I'd do anything." Then he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Now come, let's go find you a new favourite restaurant."

"No expensive ones though!"

"No promises."

-

You were getting ready for bed that night, after a wonderful day with your sweet, doting boyfriend. Your living room and kitchen were littered with dozens of bouquets of (favourite flowers), and you were pretty sure you had enough chocolate to knock out all your teeth. You smiled at these gestures, a heavy blush falling across your cheeks.

Then you realised you couldn't sleep, but before you could even pick your phone up to call Satoru, your phone buzzed.

pretty blue eyes 💙: im outside, open up for me ❤

You smiled at the nickname you'd given him when you'd first seen him with his blindfold off. He'd liked it so much he changed his name to it on your phone. Butterflies formed in your stomach once more, and you felt that lovely warmth fill you again. You eagerly padded over to your front door to open for Satoru.

He was sporting a silly little grin as he held up a bag of food, "Thought you might want some company- actually I wanted to come even if you didn't."

Your heart swelled, "Come in. I was actually just about to call you."

"Yeah?" His smile grew. "I guess it was meant to be then."

You giggled at his cheesy line and shut your door, moving to the living room with him. He whistled when he saw all of the flowers, offering you a smirk.

"You must have a really huge admirer," he teased.

"Oh I do," you laughed, "He's the sweetest."

Gojo's heart did a flip at that, and he leaned over to kiss you sweetly for a moment, "He also thinks it's not enough to show how special and wonderful you are."

Your eyes widened, "But-"

"Shhh, no buts," he put his index finger on your lips. "You're my girlfriend, get used to me treating you."

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling genuinely happy and excited in a relationship for once. As you settled down to eat with him, you realised that you had fallen so deeply in love with him that you never wanted to come back up.

"Baby?" You called, feeling your own heart flip when his face lit up at the nickname.

"Mhmm?" He smiled at you.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course, baby."

a/n: ughhh i cannot get enough of this man, he's literally perfect

[deleteddewewted]

can you write abt when ghost finally does feel comfortable to have sex w the reader? 👀

Ghost Recovering From His Sexual Trauma (Continuation)

Ghost x Gn! Reader

Summary: Simon is far enough in his recovery process that he's more. comfortable taking his clothes off and letting his partner touch him. He tries new things and set new boundaries with you. He knows he's still got a long road of him but he's happy to go through it with you.

W: Mentions of sexual abuse (past), Trauma being recounted, Semi victim blaming (Self Victim Blaming), Dead Dove (not too intense), healthy sexual boundaries, NSFW, sexual deviancy, Experimenting sexually, Pegging/Penetration, Dom/sub themes

He's finally better, at least that's what his therapist tells him. He feels it too. His workouts are much more positive in their intentions. He's exercising because he likes the way it makes his body feel and how you react to his body instead of doing it as a form of punishment. He no longer uses the mask as much in private when he's in his courters or when at your home. He likes the way the sun feels against his skin, how your skin feels against his own. The feeling of your hand on his cheek is reassuring and he doesn't flinch when you caress his face anymore which makes him feel better about taking his medication.

When you undress him for the first time, you're slow and checked in on him every time you're wanted to remove something from him. He told you to go all the way.

"Take everything off for me, love." You kissed his scars, his pale skin, and the inner part of his thighs before kissing his face.

Your hands on him, your mouth on him, you on top of him. It felt like heaven. He laid in your shared bed like he always dreamed he would and allowed you to do as you pleased. You rode him, his cock inside your hole and filling you with his release. He was overwhelmed by pleasure but it wasn't something he wanted to end. He liked it.

The bites you left on his neck made him feel claimed in a possessive and adoring way. The red streaks from your nails scratching his back and chest had him thrilled. It hurt but in a pleasant way. It stung and left behind reminders as to what he had done with you.

You fucking him like there's no tomorrow, lube/cum coming out of his ass after you pegged/fucked him into the mattress when he asked you "Take the memories of what they did to him away." He wanted something new to fill him. New memories and new sensations consumed his body all while you did all that you wanted with him.

The marking, the claiming, it all brought him a sense of comfort he didn't think was possible for him considering what he had gone through. He liked it so much that he started asking you to do it outside of the bedroom.

This didn't mean he didn't have issues with some aspects of intimacy. When you'd ask him if he wanted to try something new, maybe putting something inside him or even fingering him. Maybe you wanted to have him wear a gag or a cuffs. He would shut it down without wanting to discuss it, not that he owed you any explanation. The guilt of not participating in something that you wanted would bring him to panic attacks at times because he felt like he had failed you as a partner. It was worse if he had to be deployed for months on end when he knew that you missed him physically.

He intensified his therapy and made sure to write some of his more perturbed and vulnerable thoughts into a journal that he would read through to see his progress. He would let you read it too but you never accepted since you wanted him to have something for himself that he didn't need to share.

"Do you think you'd ever want to get hitched to me?" It was such an out-of-the-blue question but none the less you answered.

He wanted to grow old for the first time in his life. He wanted to wake up to you either inside of you or just wrapped around you. The violence in his head calmed when he felt your flesh on his own, the screaming of the past wasn't important while he lay beside you. He wanted to watch the years fade by all while he got to mark your skin just like you'd do with his. He wanted to feel pain if it meant having yous stay with him for the rest of his life and the rest of forever.

He was happy to just be as long as you held him and loved him. As long as you reminded him that he was someone worthy of love and not some cheap whore for a quick thrill.

He promised himself that if he could he would get you a ring when he was fully ok or at least somewhat fixed. He's happy to commit himself fully to you, someday, soon, hopefully soon so he can parade himself like a prideful man.