Fem!Characters x Reader Oneshots

mouthwashing anya x reader

  Anya sighs as she swipes her employee ID through the time clock, eager to wrap up her shift and go home for the weekend. She hurries to her car, the cool midnight breeze biting at her skin—a strong reminder that she had forgotten to bring a jacket, despite your gentle warning earlier. You always remind her how chilly the nights can get, also scolding her lightly when she asks for "just one more kiss" before dashing out the door.

But tonight marks the end of her stint on the second shift, and on Monday, she'll return to first shift—no longer settling for hurried kisses and a quick "I love you" as you hand her a carefully packed lunch bag. She's already looking forward to reclaiming those cozy evenings on the couch, wrapped in your arms as you both indulge yourselves to a favorite show. Anya isn't sure how her coworkers manage such schedules with their partners, but she knows she couldn't endure another week of this. Maybe it's a touch of codependency, but she prefers to think of it as being hopelessly in love.

Driving home, she passes a string of restaurants, their neon signs catching her eye. The temptation to pull in and grab something quick passes through her mind, but she knows there's a plate waiting for her at home. And truthfully, if it comes down to a choice, she'd pick your cooking over takeout any day.

When she pulls into the driveway, the warm glow of the porch light greets her, filling her chest with an inexplicable comfort. You must have left it on for her. She steps inside, closing the door with a practiced quietness to avoid waking you.

Setting her lunch bag on the counter, she unpacks the empty Tupperware and spoons, placing them in the sink before wiping the bag clean. She's never been the type to pack lunch for work, but you've always taken it upon yourself to prepare meals for her, tucking them neatly into containers for her to take to work. It's a small gesture, but one she cherishes deeply, knowing you take time out of your busy day just for her.

Though cooking isn't her strong suit, she has her own ways of showing her love. Every morning at 4 a.m., she wakes up early to brew you a fresh pot of coffee before you head to work. Those brief moments are precious to her—sharing a small conversation as you vent about your boss or coworkers, hoping her goodbye kiss might make your day just a little brighter.

She heats up the dinner you left for her, the microwave humming softly in the quiet house. With her plate in hand, she flicks on the TV. After all, who eats alone without something to watch?

After finishing her meal, she tiptoes into the bedroom, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before slipping into the bathroom to shower. The warm water cascades over her, washing away the weight of the day, the warm water soothing her tired muscles, lingering longer than usual.

Emerging from the bathroom, she towels her hair as best as she can, brushing through the damp strands before changing into something comfortable. Finishing her routine by applying lotion to her face and body.

Pulling back the covers, she slides into bed and instinctively scoots closer to you, wrapping her arm around your waist. Her leg intertwines with yours, seeking warmth and comfort in your presence.

"Your feet are cold," you mumble sleepily, shifting to pull her arm tighter around you.

"Did I wake you?" she asks softly, a twinge of guilt in her voice.

"I heard you drop something in the shower. Couldn't sleep after that."

"Sorry," she murmurs.

"It's okay babe, how was work?"

"Day shift left me a mess again, so I had to clean it up," she sighs. "But at least the residents weren't too crabby today." She leans forward to press a kiss to your ear. "One of them even told me I was beautiful."

You chuckle, already knowing who it was. "Paul? I better tell him to back off my girl."

She giggles, the sound light and musical. "He's harmless. Besides, he shares his candy stash with me, so don't ruin it." Paul was one of her favorite residents at the nursing home—endearing, witty, and always challenging her to a game of checkers.

"What about you? How was your day?" she asks, her fingers tracing absent patterns on your side.

"We're training a new operator," you start, your voice tinged with mild frustration. "But I don't think she's comfortable with it. I told the supervisor, but he keeps saying that she'll adjust. Honestly, I don't know why they made me a team lead if they're just going to ignore everything I say. But whatever. At least I have the weekend off."

Her fingers pause in your hair. "Oh really? Why's that? It's a miracle they're giving you the whole weekend off." she teases, trying to mask her excitement.

"They're shutting things down for maintenance, so no production."

"Good." She smiles, the relief evident in her voice. "I've missed you." And she has—she can't even remember the last time you both had a weekend off together. Was it a month ago? Two?

"How much?" you tease, turning to face her, your eyes glinting with playful curiosity.

More than I can put into words, she thinks.

Instead of answering, she pulls you into a kiss, her hand sliding into your hair, her lips soft yet purposeful against yours. The kiss deepens as her fingers tighten slightly in your hair, drawing you closer. Your breath mingles with hers, the world outside dissolving into the space between you.

You groan softly when she nibbles on your lip, a sound that makes her smile against your mouth. Her other hand rests on your chest, her palm pressing lightly, grounding herself in the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"What do you think?" she asks, her voice low and teasing, her lips still grazing yours.

Breathless, you laugh. "I think I might need some more convincing."

She kisses you again, this time slower, yet passionately, as if pouring every ounce of her affection into the moment. To her, each kiss is a piece of her heart, a silent declaration that her world begins and ends with you.

Shifting slightly, she straddles your hips, her hands slipping beneath your shirt, fingertips brushing against your skin. She pauses, her eyes meeting yours, seeking silent permission. When you nod, her hands move, exploring the curve of your stomach. You shiver under her touch.

"Your hands are cold," you giggle, and she flushes.

She presses a kiss to your jaw, her voice playful. "Maybe I was just trying to warm them up."

She's always been the colder one between the two of you, her icy toes constantly seeking warmth against your legs. And despite your insistence that she wear socks to bed, they inevitably end up kicked off in her sleep.

You yawn suddenly, and she freezes.

"Don't tell me you're about to fall asleep," she teases, leaning back slightly.

You glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand, its red digits reading just shy of 2 a.m. Another yawn escapes, this one pulling tears to the corners of your eyes. "Probably. I always sleep better when you're here," you admit, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

Anya's chest swells with warmth. "Then let's sleep."

She slides back down beside you, wrapping her arm securely around your waist and resting her head in the crook of your shoulder.

In the quiet of the night, the two of you drift off, wrapped around each other, holding onto the love that feels as natural and essential as breathing.

*dj khaled voice* another one ☝️

kinda wrote this based off of my coworker, because she works first shift and her husband works on second shift and i was like awwwwww

lemme write about this 📝

i love anya so much like

AAAAAAH!!!!!

fuck jimmy

me and my homies hate jimmy