Late Nights

late nights

nanami kento x reader fluff nanami stans how are we all holding up? it's been a week since..that.. i personally am still suffering and have decided that i'm going to cure my aching heart with fluff fics. here, reader knows nothing of nanami's jujutsu job.

masterlist

the neon lights of the convenience store flickered overhead as you strolled through the aisles, the quiet hum of the refrigerators filling the air. nights with nanami were a rarity, a precious gift in the midst of his demanding schedule. the convenience store became a haven, a place to stock up on essentials for a night of relaxing.

ice cream, potato chips, and a few cans of beer— your basket overflowed with indulgences that defied the seriousness of nanami's work. the simplicity of the moment brought a smile to both of your faces, a quiet acknowledgment of the rare opportunity to indulge in the mundane pleasures of life.

back at your shared apartment, nanami awaits you. the couch is covered in fluffy blankets and pillows, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table with a stack of rented movies, carefully selected to suit both of your tastes. when you return and get comfortable in the couch, he drapes a blanket over both of you. the soft glow of the tv illuminated the living room, creating a cozy cocoon of serenity. the world outside, with its many weighing responsibilities, felt distant in the comfort of each other's presence.

the movies played, but your attention was divided between the screen and the man beside you. nanami's arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you close. the warmth of his embrace, coupled with the soft laughter that punctuated the movie scenes, painted a picture of blissful contentment. as the night unfolded, the bowl of popcorn and the snacks disappeared one by one.

as the credits of the final movie plays, nanami looks to his side. you're sound asleep, little snores sneaking past your lips. the exhaustion that clung onto his shoulders seemed to dissipate as he watched you. nanami reaches for the remote and turns the tv off, trying his hardest to not wake you up. gently, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead before leaning back. as his eyes close, nanami thinks how lucky he is to have you by his side. the tv screen may have shut off, but the warmth of your presence lingered, a comforting lullaby that accompanied him into a restful sleep, leaving behind the echoes of a night well-spent.

dance with fireflies

alhaitham x reader convincing the acting grand sage to accompany you on a little midnight journey and it was then he realised that you mean much more to him

masterlist

convincing the acting grand sage alhaitham to accompany you on a little midnight escapade to the mawtiyima forest went a lot smoother than you had anticipated. sure he hesitated at first, his reserved nature resisting the pull of your enthusiasm. but there was something in your eyes, a spark of excitement and wonder that intrigued him. reluctantly, he followed, steps cautious yet undeniably drawn by your infectious spirit.

as you ventured deeper into the forest, the darkness was illuminated by the flickering lights of the fireflies. their dance was a mesmerizing symphony of light, weaving through the night like a thousand shooting stars. you couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the moment, your eyes reflecting the enchantment of the fireflies' glow.

alhaitham watched you, his gaze lingering on your face as you gazed in awe at the tiny creatures. there was a softness in your expression, a genuine joy that seemed to dissolve the icy walls around his heart. in that moment, he realised that he was not just observing the fireflies; he was witnessing the reflection of your soul, illuminated by the gentle light of the night.

“fireflies have always intrigued me," you ventured, breaking the silence with a whisper, your voice as soft as the fluttering wings of the luminescent insects. "their dance is so fleeting, yet within that brief moment, there is a beauty that lingers in the heart."

alhaitham regarded you with a measured glance, his expression unreadable. "their light is but an illusion," he replied, his voice as cool as the night air. "a fleeting spark that fades into darkness."

you smiled gently, undeterred by his aloofness. "perhaps," you said, your tone thoughtful, "but isn't it the ephemeral nature of their glow that makes it all the more precious? like a hidden gem that reveals itself only to those who take the time to appreciate its brilliance."

your eyes met his, and for the first time, alhaitham saw his reflection in the depths of your gaze—a reflection that revealed the vulnerability he had long tried to conceal. for a moment, there was a flicker of something in his eyes, a subtle shift as if your words had struck a chord within him. he turned his gaze back to the fireflies, watching their dance with a newfound intensity.

alhaitham felt a strange warmth spreading through his chest, a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend. it was as if the fireflies had ignited a spark within him, illuminating the depths of his emotions.

in the quiet of the night, with the fireflies as witnesses, he realized the truth that had been veiled from his understanding—he was in love with you. the revelation settled in his heart like a gentle whisper, filling the void that had long existed within him. he found himself entranced not only by the fireflies but by the way you looked at them, your eyes alight with wonder and fascination. and as the night deepened, the both of you continued to watch the fireflies, your presence a comforting presence beside him.

casual | dabi/touya todoroki

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual.

notes: hiiiii so this is just something I’ve been working on for a bittttt it’s inspired by causal by Chappell roan it’s nothing special but I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head so yeahhhh sorry for the severe lack of smut in a friends with benefits fic btw ahsjsjsjs thanks for reading hope u enjoy!!<3

warnings: 18+, minors dni, f!reader, explicit content, no quirk au, oral f!recieving, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, the todorokis are healing, dabi is called Touya throughout literally the entire thing

words: 4.1k

“My mom wants to meet you.”

It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

Casual. 

“What?” You aren’t sure how you should respond, or what the right answer is. He shrugs, buttoning his jeans.

“You don’t have to. Just promised her I’d ask.” He says, turning around to dig through your dresser. He pulls out one of the shirts he’s left there and a pair of underwear for you, tossing the items your way. You change, covering yourself up before moving to sit in the middle of the bed, legs tucked underneath you. 

“You’ve been talking to her about me?” You question. You know it’s not what he wants to hear. 

Keep reading

small angsty bite of love for the last episode. spoilers.

jeans hands gently move over your body, taking all the time the world he doesn’t have as he buckles in your straps. the others were rushing to get ready, the sound of leather and metal clashing together — only to be drowned out by the rumbling outside.

“jean, we have to hurry.” you could hardly contain the panic in your voice. his harness was already on, he had thrown it on before turning to help with yours. all he does is look up from where he’s kneeling, quietly buckling the belt before rising back up.

“i know.” he says as he cups your face, worry lacing all of his features. his forehead leans down against yours, taking a steadying breath. “can we just pretend for a minute?”

“pretend?” you breathe back, the sound of everyone else drowning out behind you. jean always had that effect — making you feel like the two of you were the only people in the world. if only that were true.

“that this might not be the last time we see each other.” he pulls back and searches your eyes for something. “that the world isn’t ending and we are just two people who are in love.”

“jean.” you all but whisper, touched by his small proclaimation. your heart breaks as you watch his face show you something so vulnerable, something you haven’t seen in so long. the stoic mask he had been wearing the last few months was washed away by a dose of fleeting reality. “yes. we can pretend.”

without another word, he leans in to kiss you. surprisingly, it’s slow. taking all the time in the world to glide his lips over yours. the horrors from the real world slip away as you walk into this land of make believe.

but reality was cruel. armin clearing his throat breaks the illusion with a look of regret and sorrow. jean casts you one last warm smile, small enough to break through that mask before the walls inside of him are back up and you have to go face certain hell together.

destroyed | j. kirstein

"I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed."

⇢ word count: 1,851 words

⇢ contents: gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of war crimes/violence, aot ending spoilers, jean and reader are in an established relationship, dealing with grief, set a few months after the ending

⇢ notes: okay so i got this prompt and i just kinda...wrote it. not sure if it's good. also not sure what's going on here. i'm kind of in a writing funk, but wanted to get something out for my jean baby at the very least! i also kinda suck at writing grief but i hope i nailed it in some way! enjoy!

⇢ prompt credit: @/dumplingsjinson | [ post ]

⇢ tags: @kamorikiri / @juneselfships / @tetzoro | sign up for my taglist here!

Jean is not the type of person to give pieces of himself away.

He hates it. He constantly wishes he’d been more selfish, stayed in that stockroom with his hands over his ears, hiding from the horror that was occurring outside. It seems like any choice he’d made, any connection he’d forged, was bound to be broken eventually. Sasha? Gone. Eren? Gone. Marco? Gone. Lost to the ages. It seems like he’s the only one who's haunted by Marco’s pretty eyes and Sasha’s laugh echoing in his ears. At least with Eren being such a big piece of shit at the end, he can stop feeling bad about that. He knew Connie felt the same, but Connie is also one of the people he’s given a piece of himself to after Sasha died. He can’t get that piece back.

It’s one of the only pieces he doesn’t regret giving away, though.

That, and the piece he gave to you.

The war still haunts him at night, the choices he’d made, the people he’d betrayed and killed all in the name of saving Eren…and they didn’t even save him in the end. Mikasa had taken it upon herself to be the person to lay Eren to rest, by chopped his fucking head off. Not like any of them had much of a choice in the matter, but…it still felt like knives stabbing into his lungs whenever he thought about it.

It felt like a waste. It felt like he’d done so many horrible acts, gotten so much blood on his hands that when he scrapes at his skin he can still feel the warmth of it. The smell of iron still stings his nose at times. He can’t look at the bodies they have to cremate far away from Shiganshina, because those burned bones will certainly never forgive him.

You have truly seen Jean at his worst. Unkempt hair, dark circles under his eyes, cheekbones protruding from his face making him look sullen. You could count on your fingers how many hours of sleep he’d gotten since he’d returned to Shiganshina. Liquor was a common thing to find around him, and he stunk of it in the early days. Night terrors were another common occurrence, but you’d gotten used to waking up and soothing him as much as your sleepy brain could.

You’ve never pushed him to talk about it. Why would you? Grief is a complicated thing, especially with what they had all been through. It’s a miracle Jean’s mind hadn’t collapsed in the aftermath; he’d been well within his rights to do so. You reassure him when you can, but give him space to process. Jean is not the type to talk about his feelings; but you’re lucky to have known him for so long that you know when an episode is coming on.

It’s one of those nights that you wake up to find your shared bed cold.

Something tells you to get up, and you do, resting your warm feet on the chilly wooden floor, shivering at the contact. “Jean?” you call out, not expecting an answer. You don’t receive one, but there’s a brief scent of tobacco in the air that you follow out onto the balcony, pulling a warm robe on and sliding a pair of slippers onto your feet.

Jean is standing outside, a cigarette between his fingers as he stares at the horizon. The moon is shining bright on him, turning his skin silver as he blows smoke into the sky. He looks tired. He’s looked tired for a while, but tonight looks…different. And not in a good way. His shirt hangs off his frame like he hasn’t eaten in awhile. Truth be told, he hadn’t. All the meals you’d made for him had mere bites taken out of them.

And god, the fact that he apologizes for “being a burden” makes you want to shake him so hard he’ll snap out of it. It’s frustrating, to say the least. Why are you apologizing? you ask him, every time he does so, and he fails to have an answer. There’s an unsaid one hanging in the air, in the silence after your voice ceases.

Because I feel like this is all my fault.

It’s not his fault. At least, not solely his fault. It’s the fault of a lot of things, a lot of people, and it’s too messy to iron out. But he won’t stop apologizing for being like this, no matter how many times you tell him he doesn’t have to. It hurts watching him go through all of this and being completely helpless. You’re not a grief counselor, there’s not much you can do but be there for him and wait.

You’d never abandon him. Especially not right now.

You resist waiting by the door for him, because that same something forces your feet to move onto the balcony, joining him at his side. You don’t look at him initially, choosing to grab the cigarette from his hand and take a pull yourself. You can feel him turn towards you, eyes going wide, mouth opening, readying an apology like the other countless time he’s done so—

“Don’t apologize, Jean. What’s on your mind?”

You pull smoke into your lungs, feeling the warmth spread through your body as you exhale, the tendrils curling up into the dark night sky filled with pinpricks of white light. The stars were so pretty out here, especially during such a clear night. You’re not expecting an answer here, as always, but you freeze as you hear him sigh.

“I…”

He trails off, turning and facing the field in front of you both again. His arm presses against yours, so close that his body heat warms you as you wait for him to speak again. If he ever does.

This time, he does, and he doesn’t seem to know when to stop.

“I shared pieces of me, with so many people, and none of them kept those pieces safe, and I don’t know if I can risk that with you because it would devastate me if you turn out to be the same as them all. I would be completely destroyed—”

“Safe, huh?” you glance over at him, and his eyes widen, realizing the gravity of what he just said.

“I don’t mean safe…of course I don’t,” he adds quickly, “I meant more like—”

“No, you’re right.” Your voice cuts through his own again. You can’t help it. You have to shake some sense into him. The nicotine coursing through your veins from the cigarette gives you courage all of a sudden.

“Regardless of how you feel, they didn’t. That’s not to say Sasha or Eren or Marco are at fault, because you can’t blame a dead person for that. But you can’t get those pieces back from dead people. I get it.”

Silence.

You finally look over at him again, and blink in surprise.

There’s big, fat tears pouring down his face, his shoulders shaking as he stifles his sobs. You can’t help but feel your chest ache. How long has he bottled up crying about this?

“I-I just…I don’t want to lose you like I lost them. I can’t go through that again. All I have is you and Connie and Reiner, really, and I just…I can’t go through another death. There’s been too much of it.”

He’s babbling on now, as if your words had cut into him so deeply that you’d broken the dam of his emotions. The cigarette is out now, and you flick it into the ashtray before bringing his face into your hands, pressing your noses together. It’s an intimate moment, and Jean’s shoulders relax in your grip just a little, enough for you to smile. You push up on your toes to whisper into his ear

“Yeah, that’s it. Just relax, baby. I’m here, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” Your voice is so soft, gentle, like a salve on his heart. You can feel him slowly relax, more and more so that he’s sobbing into your shoulder, unintelligible phrases falling from his lips as you coo into his ear, rubbing his back.

Because it’s true. You’re not going anywhere. And if you do, you’re taking him with you. It would be sinful to leave him alone like this, and you never even considered leaving him for the entire time since he returned from Marley. You’ll be here for him for as long as it takes for him to be okay again. And if he never is? So be it.

Who could blame any of them for never truly being the same?

Jean cries for a long time. You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing outside with him. His tears soak through your robe and night shirt, but you don’t care. Why would you? He’s finally crying. Isn’t that an improvement? You’d heard Reiner hadn’t stopped crying at night since they’d all gotten back. Although, Reiner’s a big baby from what you’ve heard, so of course he’d be the more emotional one.

Eventually, the sobs quiet into whimpers, and then sniffles as he raises his head from your shoulder to look at you again. Your hands card through the hair on the nape of his neck as he smiles at you. The first smile you’ve ever seen on his face, eyes shining with so much adoration for you. This is the Jean you remember. The boisterous, silly, mama’s boy Jean flashes across his face for just a moment, and it feels like you’re in a time capsule.

It’s gone in the next moment, but the smile remains.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you smile,” you whisper, grinning back at him as your hand reaches to brush against his cheek. Jean’s cheeks go red as he averts his eyes, suddenly flustered. “What do you mean? I always smile,” he grumbles, and you shake your head, a giggle falling from your lips. “Don’t be silly, baby, you haven’t smiled in a long time. Doesn’t it feel good?” you ask him, and he sighs.

“Yes. It does.”

“Good. You should do it more.”

“What do I even have to smile about?”

You roll your eyes.

“Being alive? Being with me? Having your friends alive and here to talk to? There, that’s…three reasons already.”

Jean’s smile grows wider. “Thank you,” he whispers, pressing his face into your neck, “for being here for me for all these months. I’m sorry I’ve been such a handful, I just—”

“I know. That’s why I’m still here. You need me, and I need you. I’ll never stop needing you.”

The rest of the night is spent back in bed, snuggled up under the covers. And for the first time in many, many months since he’d been back, Jean sleeps through the night. No monsters come to visit him, not when he’s protected by you, ready to fight off any of the bad memories that try to return to haunt him.

He’s glad he gave a piece of himself to you. He’ll never regret that.

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disclaimer: please do not copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

© kiirsteiins 2023 | @bitchcraftinc / @enchantedforest-network

late nights

nanami kento x reader fluff nanami stans how are we all holding up? it's been a week since..that.. i personally am still suffering and have decided that i'm going to cure my aching heart with fluff fics. here, reader knows nothing of nanami's jujutsu job.

the neon lights of the convenience store flickered overhead as you strolled through the aisles, the quiet hum of the refrigerators filling the air. nights with nanami were a rarity, a precious gift in the midst of his demanding schedule. the convenience store became a haven, a place to stock up on essentials for a night of relaxing.

ice cream, potato chips, and a few cans of beer— your basket overflowed with indulgences that defied the seriousness of nanami's work. the simplicity of the moment brought a smile to both of your faces, a quiet acknowledgment of the rare opportunity to indulge in the mundane pleasures of life.

back at your shared apartment, nanami awaits you. the couch is covered in fluffy blankets and pillows, a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table with a stack of rented movies, carefully selected to suit both of your tastes. when you return and get comfortable in the couch, he drapes a blanket over both of you. the soft glow of the tv illuminated the living room, creating a cozy cocoon of serenity. the world outside, with its many weighing responsibilities, felt distant in the comfort of each other's presence.

the movies played, but your attention was divided between the screen and the man beside you. nanami's arm found its way around your shoulders, pulling you close. the warmth of his embrace, coupled with the soft laughter that punctuated the movie scenes, painted a picture of blissful contentment. as the night unfolded, the bowl of popcorn and the snacks disappeared one by one.

as the credits of the final movie plays, nanami looks to his side. you're sound asleep, little snores sneaking past your lips. the exhaustion that clung onto his shoulders seemed to dissipate as he watched you. nanami reaches for the remote and turns the tv off, trying his hardest to not wake you up. gently, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead before leaning back. as his eyes close, nanami thinks how lucky he is to have you by his side. the tv screen may have shut off, but the warmth of your presence lingered, a comforting lullaby that accompanied him into a restful sleep, leaving behind the echoes of a night well-spent.