#absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmind

[anemhoez]

The General…

Jiyan/AFAB Reader/Rover

WARNINGS: unprotected sex, language, slight breeding

A/N: *clawing at the walls* JIIIIYAAAAAAAN!! is it just me or did they make this mf TOO hot?! is that a thing?!?! everytime i see him i just *chokes self* i need a cold shower hehehe

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!

With the upcoming battle against the Threnodian threat and the dangers that would arise, General Jiyan was more concerned than ever. You found him pacing in his makeshift office, a small room in an abandoned warehouse that he and his army moved into to have a place for medical staff and equipment. “General? You asked to see me?” you questioned softly once walking in, hoping not to disturb him in whatever he was doing. “Yes, thank you for coming Rover, please sit.” his voice was more gentle with you then when he spoke to his subordinates. “I want to reiterate just how dangerous the upcoming battle will be, the crownless is ruthless.” he spoke with concern heavy in his voice. Your face stayed stoic as you nodded, “I know general, but im one hundred percent committed to this fight, i won’t falter.”

Jiyan smiled at your resolve, “I’m honored to have a soldier like you by my side, thank you.” he said with a small sigh. He stretched his neck with a deep groan, bringing a hand to soothe the aching muscle. “Are you alright general?” you stood up quickly, moving over to observe him more closely. His amber eyes met yours, “Yes, i’m fine, just a bit stressed, nothing out of the ordinary.” he leaned against the dusty table he used to revise plans with the troops. You reached out, touching his forehead with the back of your hand to check his temperature. “You’re not very warm, do you want me to fetch some vitamin packets from the infirmary?” He shook his head, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “I’m fine really, please dont worry about me, there’s more pressing matters to attend to.” he reassured you with his never ending resolve. “Alright but, at least take some time to relax, even if just for a little bit,” you cocked your head to the side, observing his demeanor, “what do you normally do to de-stress?”

The general before you seemed to light up suddenly at your question. “Well, I like to spar with the new recruits, take long walks or,” he stopped when he noticed your proximity. You had moved closer to him, your heavenly scent hit him harder than it should have, and he inhaled deeply. He looked down at you, his intense stare causing your stomach to stir, “I also like to have sex when I’m stressed.”

If you hadnt already been in a trance by his stare, his words would have definitely done the trick. You gulped audibly, “Oh?! Of course you do- ah i mean to say that’s a good stress reliever- I’m not saying that you’re some kind of degenerate or anything!” Jiyan actually laughed hard at your words, the first time you’ve ever seen such emotion since being around him. Your face got hot, worried you had overstepped, “Forgive me general, it’s been a while for me so the topic is kind of, gods why am i so awkward?!” you asked yourself out loud, your body absentmindedly walking towards the door.

The general turned to sit at his desk, his large lap looking as inviting as ever. “It’s s actually been a while for me too, I never have time for myself, let alone someone else.” his eyes followed you as he spoke, hoping he hadn’t made you uncomfortable in any way. But as soon as you closed the door and locked it, his need and desire began to grow. You mustered up all your courage and sighed, “General, I’m more than willing to help you,” your voice was soft as your hands came to remove your top. Without a word, Jiyan took you by the waist bringing you to sit on his lap.

Your lips collided in a frenzied kiss, his strong grip and dominance over you caused your head to spin. His gloved hand adorned with claws squeezed your breasts one after the other, while his other hand rested at your back. When you finally pulled away, he made quick work of your bra, pulling it down so he could suck and bite at your sensitive flesh. He was so rough with you, his eager and desperate hands gripped you tightly, sure to leave bruises in their wake. He pulled away from you briefly, only to place you on top of the desk.

“Forgive me, for being so rough with you,” his hands were softer now, more gentle as they rubbed up your exposed thighs. “Dont be, please use me however you like,” you pleaded and took one of his hands and brought it between your legs. He sighed at your warmth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth he growled, feeling your wetness through your underwear. “Fuck,” he cursed into your mouth, your tongues soon meeting in another passionate kiss that made you dizzy. Jiyan finally lifted up your skirt to your belly and pulled your underwear down, sitting back in his chair and making himself comfortable before leaning down to slot between your legs.

You arched your back sharply, feeling his tongue glide up from your entrance to your clit. He moaned deep, practically growling as he tasted you. You looked down at the sight of the general making a mess of you, greedily licking and slurping, driving you feral with his tongue. Your fingers grabbed at his hair, tugging and pulling him impossibly closer. “General,” you huffed, his long tongue fucking in and out of your sopping hole viciously. “Fuck!” you yelped, shaking in his grasp as you came hard, the lack of touch the past few months making you a whiny, trembling mess within seconds. He continued however, determined to get you to come as many times as he liked. He sucked on your clit, releasing you from his grasp only to remove his bracers and gloves. He inserted two fingers inside of you, keeping the brutal pace of his tongue against you while he curved and pumped his fingers in and out. You huffed and moaned, the overstimulation wracking your body again and again as the general teased your spot over snd over with his long thick fingers. “Please! Please just fuck me!” you begged as you tugged on his ponytail, needing the onslaught on your pussy to stop.

When he finally pulled away, his mouth was glistening with your essence and he licked his lips greedily, moving in for a kiss. “You’re incredible,” he whispered gruffly as he undid his tight bodysuit, shimmying himself out of his undergarments, finally stroking his cock. You watched the general, your leader in this battle against evil, line himself up with your entrance, and slowly push himself into you.

He hissed, your warmth and tightness overwhelming him. “Mmh, so perfectly tight,” he huffed into your ear before pulling out and thrusting back in harshly. Gods was he aggressive in the best way, brutally thrusting into your pussy as if he owned it already. His bruising grip tight on your thighs as he pushed them down, folding you in half for the best possible angle. “Rover, ahh,” he grunted, moving in close to suck and leave marks on your neck. You held onto him for dear life, clawing at his back, desperately trying to hold onto him. “H-harder please!” you whined into his ear, his pace quickened and his hips began slapping against you so hard, it echoed in the barely furnished room. Anyone outside would be able to hear the rough fucking that was happening right now but you didnt care. With the way Jiyans long cock nestled at you cervix everytime he thrust back in, a Threnodian army could bombard the encampment right now and you wouldn’t budge.

Your peak neared as he continued his thrusts, moaning and grunting everytime you clenched down, biting at your ear as you bared down so hard, he almost lost it. “Ah! I’m-“ your words caught in your thraot as you came, the blinding orgasm crashing into you like a truck. Jiyan’s hands came to wrap around your throat, gently squeezing as he leaned back to look down at you. Your fucked out expression, mouth hanging open with drool dripping down one corner of your mouth was all he needed to finally cum hard into you. He never lost eye contact with you, his mouth twisted into the most satisfied smile as he pumped his seed deep into you. You were certain you’d never in your life see someone as gorgeous as him in this moment. His eyes half lidded and dreamy, a cocky smirk on his face while sweat dripped from his brow, you had wished the two of you could fuck like this forever.

He helped you to sit up once he pulled out of you, leaving a trail of your mixed releases on the desk. His seed flowed out of you as you sat with your legs still spread, trying desperately to catch your breath. He chuckled and moved back to you, using his fingers to fuck his cum back into you. “I can’t think of anything more satisfying than you entering into battle full of my seed,” his fingers pumped into you over and over, causing you to claw at his chest, sure to leave trails of scratches on his beautifully defined body. “How much more of me can you take I wonder?” You moaned, another orgasm nearing as he dragged his fingers so deliciously inside of you. “As much as you want to give me general, “ you huffed out before spasming and clenching down on his fingers.

The two of you would fuck at least two more times before the battle, your cunt so full of him you started to feel it drip down between your legs as you fought. Once the fight was over, Jiyan tenderly picked you up, kissing and praising your prowess both in and out of battle, all the way back to HQ.

A/N: I’M-LISTEN JUST LEAVE ME ALONE 😭 id do anything for him and his cute blue pubes 🙏

#wuthering waves #wuwa jiyan #jiyan smut #wuwa smut #wuwa x reader #jiyan x reader #please enjoy while i go suck boothills robot cock for the next week

[totheblood]

shiver | s.r.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.

warnings: angst, avoidant!reader

a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!

wc: 3.1k

"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."

The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.

 It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk. 

He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting. 

When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated. 

It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away. 

Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily. 

He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears. 

His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why. 

Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you. 

And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you. 

Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of. 

6 months ago - November

“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you. 

“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”

“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke. 

“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”

“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk. 

“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”

“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her. 

“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”

“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,” 

“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”

“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest. 

Present Day

Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work. 

The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen. 

“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.” 

As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms. 

“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.

“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”

It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low. 

“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.

“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”

“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.

“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine. 

“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”

“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,” 

“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”

“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”

“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things. 

“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror. 

“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”

Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”

The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off. 

“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road. 

“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”

“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”

“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”

“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”

“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest. 

“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”

You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked. 

Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”

The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back. 

You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input. 

Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls. 

Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first. 

You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could. 

As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly. 

Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”

His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close. 

And everything went black. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

[peaches-and-creamm]

everyone has scars, toji.

synopsis: you've always wondered about your boyfriends scar, and he's always been a bit avoidant of the subject.

wc: ~1.7k

warnings(?): mention of injuries + abuse(toji's past) hinted at sexual things happening the night before. he cries a lil 👹 talks of scars (duh)

a/n: love how everyone just gives toji- like- the ~𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓷 𝓭𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓵~ (im very southern, i love it sm bc i get to just use how i normally talk irl😭😭)

Light sparkled through your curtains- the sun ignoring how the drapes were labeled "black out" when you had first looked at them when the two of you had plans to move in together.

The morning glow shined down through the aforementioned 'black out' curtains- and onto your still very asleep boyfriends face, the morning sun highlighting his chiseled features.

His cheek was nuzzled into your bare breasts, one arm underneath you and an arm draped over your waist while he snored on without a care in the world, his dark hair tickling your soft flesh when he nuzzled further into your scent subconsciously.

You moved a hand down to brush some of his stray hairs from his forehead, a sleepy smile on your face as you did so.

You fought back the giggle that threatened to pass by your lips as you watched him practically drool onto your chest- however you ultimately failed to suppress a small chuckle when his stubble scratched against your nipple.

A few moments after this- he, however, finally began to stir.

It starts with his face crinkling together before his deep blue eyes slowly opened- the exhale of his yawn against your skin giving you goosebumps while his eyes blinked and adjusted to the light.

"...mornin'" He groggily whispered into your chest, pulling you closer into him as he buried himself further into the soft flesh that was littered with bruises he had left the night before, a low sigh coming from his lips as he let his eyes close once more to simply lay and enjoy your warmth.

"g'morning, baby." You placed a kiss to the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair as you hummed slightly- causing him to sigh happily into your chest as a result of the vibrations against his face.

"why ya' always smell s'good?" he brought his free hand up to cusp at your breast, softly holding the flesh in his large hand to mess with the mound idly- clearly having no intentions of going any further.

His gaze turned to you for a moment, his face contorted in confusion as he looked into your eyes. You only giggled in response, shaking your head side to side a few times as best you could with the larger man practically laying right on you.

“says you.” You booped his nose, dragging your finger along the warm skin before resting your hand on his cheek— aweing internally at how the larger man practically purred into your touch like a kitten.

“yea, says me- was the words that came outta my mouth, no?” You laughed at how plainly he spoke, and he watched how your eyes crinkled together while you looked to him with so much adoration he'd never thought he'd be on the receiving end of. "I didn't even get to shower or nothin, ji!" You playfully smack his shoulder, giving him a wide grin before you continued to comb through his dark hair.

It was silent for a good few minutes, the only things filling the bedroom was your quiet voice whispering apologies for accidentally tugging at a knot in his hair as your fingers continued to brush through it- something he had always enjoyed.

Suddenly he sighed loudly-

"jus' say it already. I can hear the gears turnin' from here." He shot you a knowing look, maintaining eye contact until you bite your lip and turn away.

You take a deep breath, sigh, then turn back to him- now moving both of your hands to cup at his face. You trace the scar covering his lips absentmindedly- your silent actions making him understand what was running through your brain.

"what's goin' on through that head, huh?" He quirked an eyebrow at you, scooting up so he was no longer laying on your chest but instead hovering over you.

You looked from each of his deep blue eyes, your gaze turning somewhat sad as your vision inched to the corner of his lips.

"hey...toj....?" You asked slowly, carefully- scanning his face for any reaction he might have; negative or positive.

He shrugged before moving to flop beside you on his back, clasping his hands together on his bare chest while looking up to the ceiling.

You turned to your side, one hand going under your face and the other moving to gently try to interlock your hands together.

He resisted at first- but then opened one of his hands so you could hold it. He grumbled and whispered something under his breath before side eyeing you a few times.

"ask, jus' get it over with already." He complained under his breath, not bothering to hide how he rolled his eyes when your eyes widened in shock.

You rocketed up, this drew a groan out of the man. He watched as you moved to straddle him, but then giving him the room to sit up against the headboard.

His hands found their place against your hips, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles against your hip bones.

"such good handles-" he thought to himself briefly.

"ask what, toj'?" You tilted your head to the side- trying to seem as nonchalant as you could while continued to steal glances to the scar.

He just deadpanned to you and you quickly put your hands up in surrender, avoiding his gaze for a few seconds before you leaned up to him to place a soft, loving kiss against the edge of his lips- right where the scar was.

"how?" You plainly asked, not needing to specify any further as he huffed rather loudly.

As much as he wanted to be annoyed with how often you prolonged your gazes to his scarred lip- he couldn't find it in himself to genuinely be aggravated with you over the subject.

"old clan shit, it's borin' really. m' not so sure why you're so..... hung up-" He motioned around with his hands, shrugging as he continued to speak.

"over somethin' like this-" He pointed to his scar dramatically, shrugging his shoulders once more before his hands returned to rubbing random shapes against your flesh, admiring his work he'd done the night before.

"it's a part of you- well, now-" You cleared your throat.

"now- i-it's a part of you." He huffed again and looked away- it really wasn't anything special- just the dumbass adults from when he was a kid being abused and tormented.

There was nothing to regret- nothing to feel bad about. He's never stayed up late at night wondering why him- nah. Not once has he lost sleep because of how weak he felt for having a reaction to feeling something relating to it. Hell no, that's pussy shit.

"toji..?" He now realized he had gotten lost in thought- not noticing how irritated he suddenly looked until he saw your concerned face looking to him.

"huh?"

"you're scowling- did I do something?" You frowned- reaching your hands to massage at his tense face muscles that formed a deep scowl.

"it ain't your fault those jackasses threw a little kid- no cursed energy, into a pit with a bunch of curses for hours and hours. You weren't the one that sat there wit' a stupid fucking grin on yer face everytime I screamed- not-"

"baby- you're crying..."

"huh? the fuck I am-... oh."

It was silent. You just stared at each other- the slow hum of ringing in your ears almost painfull.

You watched your big- stoic boyfriend, who's lap you sat on in your shared bedroom-- in your shared home;

cry. cry for the first time in all the years you've known him. Sure his eyes just watered up- maybe one or two tears falling from his deep blue eyes- but it was still enough to shake you up.

Slowly, you brought your hands up to grab his cheeks. You sat there for a moment staring at him wide eyed as you processed what was happening.

After a few more moments of silence you tugged him in close, cradling his head into your chest. He froze for a moment before wrapping his large arms around your waist.

"i'm sorry." Was all you quietly whispered, kissing the top of his head a few times as you stroked his hair.

"fuckin' stupid." He scoffed into your chest after a few beats of silence- the top of his head hitting your chin slightly whilst he angrily shrugged.

"it's not stupid, toji. It's just trauma-" You pulled away from him, grabbing his cheeks maybe a bit too hard as you began peppering his face with kisses.

"yeah, yeah- whatever. sure. if it keeps yer head on straight." He grabbed at your wrists, holding you still so you stopped holding his face so tightly.

"s' okk toji, everyone's got some kinda somethin' or 'nother..." You shrugged, scooting away a bit so you could turn your arm to the side, revealing a large scar that went from your hip to your mid thigh.

"full story of this one was that I myself was also forced to fight some dudes when I was younger. I still! get sad over how just- downright pathetic those dudes looked!"

He was almost amazed at how you simply laughed about the subject- was he just weak? Was it really that stupid?

He just shrugged.

"s' whatever. Can't do nothin bout it now." He reached his hand up to rub at the scarred flesh of his lip, his expression souring as he felt how it still somehow managed to feel rough despite its age.

"If it helpsss, I think its sexy." You said matter of factly, your hands going to your hips as you nodded a few times. This drew a short, dry chuckle from him.

"course you'd think that, doll." You nodded again enthusiastically, a smile on your face as you looked to him.

"yer a weird one." He shook his head, moving his large hand to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in for a kiss.

You happily reciprocated it, quickly burying your fingers in his dark hair while you smiled into his lips.

"m' your weird oneeeee~!" You pulled away to sing-song your own praises, giving him one gentle peck against the corner of his lip where his scar was once more.

"you're beautiful, Toji Fushiguro." You rubbed at his cheek, your smile turning sad- yet staying soft and loving all at the same time- as your thumb trailed under his eyes- wiping away any evidence he had cried previously.

"Damn right I am."

M.LIST

#female reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #male reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fem reader #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushigruo x reader #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction

[wineauntie]

hi love can i ask how mom and evie cheer up quinn after a loss?

Of course! I’ve been missing these lot <3

family is family masterlist

Quinn after a game values his downtime, and you and Evie both know this.

You’ll usually have food made or ordered in by the time the game is done, so that an exhausted Quinn doesn’t have to worry about it.

Quinn will usually be quieter than usual during dinner, letting Evie’s chatter to fill in the gaps of his silence.

He’ll always talk to her and answer her questions, letting her stories be his sole focus.

The three of you guys will have your typical and comfortable movie night, all curled up on the couch together.

Evie will usually sit, balled up on Quinn’s lap because she can sense his upset and wants to cheer him up.

You’ll usually sit, leaning into his side with his outstretched arm around your shoulders to keep you close.

Quinn puts a lot of pressure on himself when it comes to hockey, but being with his two favourite girls always alleviates it bit by bit.

He turns off his phone for the night to fully enjoy your company, immersing himself in comfort as you run your hand absentmindedly through his hair.

Evie is typically the first to fall asleep, her hand splayed over Quinn’s heartbeat to lull her into sleep.

Quinn carries her to bed and tucks her in, relishing the simplicity of life between the walls of your shared apartment whilst you finish tidying up by turning the tv off and folding the blankets you’d been using.

You’ll be filling up your water bottle for bed when Quinn wraps himself around you, peppering various small kisses along the skin of your neck

There’s no sexual intent to them, he just likes to wordlessly show you how much he loves you and on nights where the Canucks lose, physical touch is his go-to.

The two of you will usually end up in bed with Quinn holding you as close as possible

There’s no specific things you guys do to cheer Quinn up because simply being around you two brightens his mood.

#wineauntie #family is family universe #fif au – blurbs/thoughts #ivy talks — fif au #Quinn hughes x single mom!reader #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #qh43 #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes imagine #nhl x reader

[b2cute]

Seven Years

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: fluff, pet names

a/n’s : hey guys! i know i’ve been inactive on here with writing i was just finding motivation and also had a lot of stuff happen in the past couple months. this is a short blurb but i hope you enjoy!

reminders: REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

A gentle summer breeze ruffled the pages of Y/n’s book as she sat on the park bench, her head resting on Chris’s shoulder. They had known each other since high school, their friendship only growing into a relationship over the years. Chris absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm with his thumb, his heart swelling with affection every time she scrunched her nose at a page. The world around them seemed to blur, their shared moments creating a little bubble of happiness. In that serene corner of the park, surrounded by the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of birds singing, they felt perfectly content, wrapped up in each other's warmth.

“Chris?” Y/n’s head chirped up from the brunette’s shoulder. She closed her book and placed it to the side. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the park, "where do you see us in seven years?"

Chris looked down at the girl, eyes glistening as he grinned. "Seven years, huh? I imagine us still making YouTube content, but maybe on a bigger scale. We could have our studio by then, with you as our director, making sure everything runs smoothly."

Y/n couldn’t help but let out a laugh, her eyes twinkling. "So, I'll be your helper forever, huh?” "Not just a helper, ma," Chris said, shaking his head as he pulled Y/n around his arm. "You'll be the brains behind it all. The one who keeps us organized and makes sure our bickering doesn’t get in the way. Y’know I need you baby.”

Y/n blushed, feeling blood rush to her cheeks. "That sounds like a plan. And what about us, outside of YouTube?" the girl questioned, her head looking up at her boyfriend. Chris’s eyes softened, his voice tender. “I see us traveling the world together, capturing our adventures and sharing them with everyone… maybe we could even have an album book with endless pictures of us exploring new places and trying new things.”

Y/n’a heart swelled with excitement. "That sounds amazing. And what about... you know, us personally?"

Chris smiled, leaning in closer. "I see us growing together, maybe even talking about starting a family someday. Having twins we can dress up in cute clothes. Taking them out on dates to Disneyland. But no matter what, we'll always be a team."

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with tears of happiness. "I love that idea. As long as we're together, I don't care where we are." she said, returning her head on the boy’s shoulder. Chris leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead, his voice a soft whisper. "Me neither, ma, as long as it's with you.”

They sat there, wrapped in each other's embrace, dreaming of the beautiful days to come, their hearts intertwined in a perfect blend of love and ambition.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

masterlist

taglist:

@mqttittude @luverboychris @knowingnothingnoel @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsdinosweater @n00dl3zzz @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo@sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo @mattsleftnipple03 @gracealwaysdisgrace @guccifrog @hearts4chriss @sttzee @stunza @fawned01 @sillysillygyal @skyslondon @stu2719962 @domaniquessidehoe @junnniiieee07

#christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris x reader #chris sturniolo edit #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo texts #christopher owen sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #Spotify

[weeesi]

Journey - May Prompts (30)

[Finally: an end to the blanket saga! This ficlet will make sense if you’ve read Blanket, Intuition, and Empty, in that order.]

“You did.” 

These words are the first of many. They sit together in Sherlock’s room as the afternoon sunlight darkens into amaranth, burnt tangerine, then deep-sea blue, as the quiet hush of evening slips over them like a blanket.

How could you not have known?

How could I have guessed?

Back and forth like this for hours, they use words as blades and balms.

Not gay. 

Just transport. 

Not a couple. 

Married to work. 

Couldn’t bear it. 

Kept it secret. 

Didn’t know. 

Couldn’t lose you. 

Broke my trust. 

Broke my heart. 

Had a relapse. 

So did I. 

Why’d you lie. 

Wanted more. 

From the beginning. 

Me too. 

Always you. 

As they talk, the tiny square travels between their hands, is thumbed at absentmindedly on its final journey. They tell each other about unravellings, about grief, about pieces cut out and hidden, about waiting.

At last it falls apart.

They hold the little threads and then they hold each other.

When the time comes, it’s mutually agreed. An unusual request, the jeweler remarks, but doable. Two strands of Irish wool, dyed grey and white and red, disappear forever into two gold rings.

“There’s a metaphor in there, somewhere,” John says.

Sherlock laughs and kisses him.

The blanket stays on the chair, the chair stays in the flat, and the love never leaves.

+

Thanks to @jolieblack for the inspiration to finish this little quartet!

Thank you to @calaisreno for the fun prompt series! Tags in replies. Thanks for reading! <3

#mayprompts2024 #johnlock #ficlet #johnlock ficlet #bbc sherlock

[quill-and-quiver]

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: house of the dragon | aemond targaryen x fem!reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: You haven't seen your husband in a month. When he returns, you decide to show your love by giving a little affection to his battle scars. 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: arranged marriage, mention of scars (no descriptions!), a tinge of angst, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, eye contact teehee, overstim and bondage if you squiiiint | if u noticed anything i missed, pls let me know! 𝚆/𝙲: 2.5k — 11 min read time .·:*¨༺➻𝙰/𝙽: ig i just really like my soft silver-haired boys. this was NOT supposed to be smut originally 💀 but shit am i glad it morphed into this 🤍 mills

✧❦༺ 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 |.☽.| 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ༻❦✧

Your hands grasp feverishly all along Aemond’s bare, hot skin. Your fingernails dig into his flesh and tangle in his silver locks. His hands roam your body, sliding up your thigh as his fingertips grip the muscle of your waist and hip, maybe hard enough to bruise. His lips attack your neck. He bites and sucks on every shred of sensitive skin available to him. He pulls it between his teeth, and you gasp.

Your husband has just returned from a trip after being gone for more than than a month. Despite his frequent jaunting off to do business, you’ve never been apart that long. Now that he’s back, you need him. Desperately. And judging by the pressure near your inner thigh, he needs you just as bad.

Your touch moves from his bare chest onto his neck. You grip his nape and force his face to yours,  pressing harsh kisses on him. His tongue slides between your lips, pushing its way into your mouth. You moan into his kiss, and your fingers trace his jaw. You trail your fingertip up over his cheek. Absentmindedly, caught up in the moment, your finger drags across the jagged scar cutting down Aemond’s cheekbone.

He jerks, his lips slipping from your own. Your eyes flash open just in time to watch him back away. His back slams against the wall behind him. Breaths heaving, your eyebrows furrow.

“Aemond? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” you ask, a bit frantically.

His blue-grey eye is wide, his nostrils flared. He drops his head, and your gut clenches with nerves. Though he doesn’t say anything, you can see his eyelashes flick from side to side. He traces every detail on the floor, refusing to meet your gaze. You gulp and carefully step toward him, one foot at a time. Once beside him, you bend your head to try and lock his eye, but he avoids you.

“Aemond…you’re worrying me.”

You lift your arm to reach for him, but he holds up a hand. You freeze. Your face screws up in concern, a sharp ache building in your tightening chest. Shaking your head, you recount everything that just happened. Though you replay the scene over and over in your head, you can’t understand. Until you remember the part where you touched his scar. Your eyebrows unfurl and you release a disappointed breath.

The scar. The one he’d gotten as a gift from his nephew Jacaerys. The one that would never, ever go away. It had disfigured his otherwise perfect skin and half-blinded him. Permanently.

Your marriage was arranged. You never really got the opportunity to know your husband before you professed your vows in front of a hundred witnesses just over a year ago. You’ve both been physical since the start; a significant factor in your willingness to marry Aemond was your raw attraction to him. This is not the first time you’ve been hasty with yourselves. More often than you would care to admit, you’ve pounced on each other with little care as to who saw or heard you. And yet, all the times you’ve fucked before, when you’ve been as close as two human beings could possibly be, you’ve somehow never touched his scar. Not once. You have no idea what lies underneath that scrap of leather.

You know Aemond is not a naturally trusting person. From the few details he’s let slip about his childhood, you can understand why. Since your wedding day, you’ve both made a concerted effort to grow closer. It’s proved much easier than you were expecting, but you know very well there is much more of his trust to be earned.

Tonight you allowed yourself to become frenzied, trapped in a dangerous lust which drew attention to the one part of himself that shames Aemond most.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

With your tousled hair and the disheveled appearance of your clothes, you feel dirty. You wrap your arms around your torso. You want nothing more than to drown your body in a thick blanket and cover every inch of yourself. To disappear into darkness. You hate that you’ve made him feel this way.

“I didn’t…” you continue, unsure what to say but desperate to make him better. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. I-”

“Stop,” he interrupts you, his voice firm. “Just stop.”

You grip yourself tighter. You bite your tongue to keep your emotions at bay. Aemond lifts his head, his silver hair draping over his shoulder. You look to him, your pleading stare blurred by your tears. His face is hardened, jaw clenched, fists by his sides. Your heart aches. He stares at you for a moment, his face cold as stone. Your gut lurches as he steps toward you. And then brushes past you. You squeeze your eyes shut to blink the tears away.

He sits on the bed and rests his elbows on his knees. You allow him a few seconds of silence. It’s all you can bear before you cautiously make your way over to him. Worried that he’ll tell you off again, you slow when you near him. He says nothing. You open your mouth to apologize again, but he interrupts.

“It wasn’t you, pet. Don’t apologize again.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you drop to your knees. You crawl between his legs and then, bracing your hands on his thighs, lean your cheek against his leg. A few tears slip silently down your cheek. You let them fall.

Aemond’s fingers snake under your chin, raising your gaze to his. He brushes his thumb against your cheek, wiping your tear stains away. He stares unrelentingly into your eyes, searching. You tilt your head as if to ask what he sees. You raise one of your hands from his thigh, reaching out to place it on his heart. He heaves a deep breath and gulps. You watch like a hawk while his hand raises toward the leather eyepatch. He smoothly lifts it up and over his head, placing it on the mattress beside him.

There, in place of a matching stormy grey eye, is a sapphire orb. Sparkling and…beautiful. Though you could not deny that you’ve sometimes feared this exact moment, you find yourself mesmerized, perhaps even entranced by what you see. You move slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop you if he wishes. He does not. You touch your fingers to the scar, tracing the line down his cheek. His eyes close, his eyebrows furrowing.

You smile. You love the feeling of him, any part of him. Even the skin, the parts, others may see as damaged. You love them. Because they're him.

You stand and pull him along with you. Wrapping your fingers around his palm, you place a kiss to a small scar on the back of his hand. Though you’ve noticed it before, you have no idea where it came from. You follow by kissing another scar, this one on his wrist, probably from sparring with Ser Cole. You raise yourself up on your tiptoes to peck one on his chest. As you lazily drag your hands across his taut muscles, you look up at him through your eyelashes.

Aemond follows your gaze until you dip behind his back. Though a pang thrums through your chest at the sheer number of them, you press your lips against each and every scar jagging across his back. You feel him tense each time your mouth ghosts over his skin. His head drops to the side, exposing his profile to you. Exposing his sapphire eye and the matching scar. You know he can’t see you, but his nostrils flare as if he can almost smell you. Something about him is animalistic, and it makes your breathing come in shallow pants.

You trail your fingertips across his side. His stare follows your every move. You place your hands on his biceps, kissing a scar on his collarbone and then one between his neck and the meat of his shoulder. As you do, you allow your hands to wind around the nape of his neck. You flick your eyes over to him, drinking in his soft expression for a moment before touching your lips to the scar over his eye. He leans into your embrace. You pause again, holding him for a second, soaking in his affection.

When you pull away, you find his eyes closed. He looks surprisingly refreshed, calm. His eyes finally blink open. You’ve never seen him so look so gentle. You offer a small smile, your palm cupping his cheek, thumb caressing the scar. His fingers curl possessively over your hand. He guides you onto the soft velvet of the bed. As you push yourself backward, he crawls over top of you. You watch your own fingertips as they trace over the striations in his muscles, flexed under his weight. Wisps of his long hair fall gracefully over his arms. He eases the strap of your nightgown over your shoulder.

Aemond lowers himself to kiss your shoulder. His mouth is warm and wet, and goosebumps raise on your skin in his wake. He tugs the nightgown down with him as he moves, giving attention to your collarbone, chest, the space in between your breasts. When he kisses your lower stomach, you arch and he slides a hand around your lower back. With expert skill, he trails one of his hands up your thigh, pushing the silk fabric up your leg and bunching it around your hips. He looks up at you, no semblance of his usual smirk, just admiration in his eyes. He hooks his palms around your thighs and lowers his mouth.

At the first swipe of his tongue, your head falls back onto the pillow. By the third, his long, slender fingers are sliding into your folds. As he pushes his way inside, you catch your lip between your teeth. You gasp when his fingers curl up inside your walls and his tongue dances around your clit. Your fist clutches onto the silk sheets by your head. Your hips start to move in time with his fingers. His grip on your thigh is firm and tight, almost painful. As you move against him, you feel a familiar knot start to form in your stomach. His fingers drive in and out of you, smooth and easy, covered in your wetness. Your hand latches onto his as you grasp for control. You’ve lost track of how many of Aemond’s fingers are in you now. Your breath grows ragged as it becomes difficult to breathe, each moment more unbearable than the last. You grip his fingers, pressing your head back against the pillow as you prepare for release.

He denies you. He detaches his lips from your clit and fingers from your pussy. You groan, glaring at him. He raises himself up on his knees, his head leaning back. Your anger evaporates at the sight of your wetness glistening on his chin and the smirk of his lips.

You watch with bated breath as Aemond removes his trousers. His knee hooks under your left thigh, pushing your leg open to make room for his hips. When he places his hands on either side of your head, you latch onto his forearms as if they were handles. He brushes your hair from your sweaty forehead before wrapping his fingers around your jaw. His thumb drags along your lips. You gasp for air, his gaze like dragonfire on your skin. Though he smiles softly for a moment, his expression fades into a wicked grin as he pushes inside you.

You’ve had him before. Several times. But this is different. The intimacy, the pressure, the deliberate way he shifts his hips into you. Most of all, the way he keeps his eyes steadily on you, unyielding and focused. You’ve never even realized how good your love could be. Most times, your eyes had been shut in pleasure. Now, watching how his face changes with every movement, you never want to close them again. His eyes darken right before he thrusts and soften when he pulls out.

You hike your legs, hooking your knees into the space between his rib cage and hip bones. He takes that as permission to speed up. His body drops to one elbow, his other hand threading through yours to pin your arm above your head. You curl your fingernails into his knuckles. He keeps his gaze on you, his breath quickening. Your moans get louder and louder and your hips buck against him. You feel that knot building, relishing the way it feels when he fills you up. Sweat drips down the back of your neck. Your eyes instinctively close, but Aemond taps his forehead against yours. When you open, he shakes his head.

“I want to see you.”

You nod, forcing a deep breath. His sapphire eye seems to glow in the darkened bedroom. Your free hand slides onto his shoulder, fingertips tugging at his skin. He growls in response and his eyebrows knit together. You fight to keep your eyes open, especially when his mouth pops open. He lowers his head toward you. Your gasps and moans sync up to pace one another. You inhale sharply as the knot in your stomach unfurls, your head tilting back and your body arching into Aemond’s hard figure. His groan in response is almost drowned out by the sound that escapes your mouth as your body shakes through your orgasm.

You can hardly catch your breath as Aemond continues to drill into you even after you’ve finished. His jaw clenches, a sign you’ve learned means he’s close. You wrench your hand free from his grasp above your head and place both of your open palms on his face. You again brush his scar with your thumb, whimpering at the soreness building below you. He immediately drops his forehead on yours, his body quivering as his warmth floods into you. He slows to a stop. You both freeze, your pants mixing.

Giddy with pleasure, you giggle and kiss your husband. He gives you a lazy one back. When you part, his droopy eyes open and the ghost of a smirk dances across his lips. He shakes his head and pecks the corner of your mouth before burying his head in your neck. Your arms wrap around him. His slide around your waist and up your back. His weight on top of your body feels good. You like holding him close while he’s in you. The closest that you could possibly be.

Aemond playfully nips at your neck before pulling away to flop on the bed beside you. He pulls the covers over your sweaty bodies. You snuggle closer to him, grinning like a fool. He shares your expression, threading his fingers through yours. He raises your knuckles to his lips and kisses them sweetly.

“I love you, Aemond. Just as you are,” you whisper, nudging his nose with yours.

He doesn’t say it back. But the way he pulls you closer, tucks his chin over your head, wraps his arms protectively around you. The way he falls asleep with you just like that, his eyepatch discarded and forgotten about. The way he’d given himself completely to you in the most vulnerable way possible. It had all been his way of showing you that he loves you, too.

tags: @kennafild @anukulee

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen fic #hotd fic #quill and quiver #spice

[mustainegf]

Fluff w/ James where the reader is having a sleep over at the metallimansion and he asks the reader to braid his hair and in return they try to teach him how to do it too but he's really bad and he feels bad that he knotted up the reader's hair so they cuddle and the reader just reassures him that it's okay

I’m gonna kiss him EVERYWHERE DUDE

I had always liked the laid-back, almost chaotic vibe of James' house. It was a rambling, old-fashioned place filled with mismatched furniture and band posters on the walls, reflecting the eclectic personalities of its residents, James and his bandmates.

Tonight, I was staying over for the first time.

James and I were cuddled up on the worn-out sofa in the living room.

His bandmates had retreated to their rooms or were out for the night, leaving us in a rare moment of solitude.

His head was resting on my lap, his long, unruly hair sprawled out like a dark, tangled sea.

I ran my fingers through it absentmindedly, feeling the soft strands glide through my fingers.

"Hey, I was actually curious about something," James said, his voice slightly muffled by my sweater.

“What's up?" I replied, looking down at him with a smile.

He hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing ever so slightly. "Would you braid my hair?"

I blinked, surprised by the unexpected request. "I'd love to!" I said, my smile widening. "Why didn't you ask earlier?"

“I don't know," he admitted, looking a bit embarrassed. "I thought it might be weird."

I chuckled softly. "Not weird at all, James. Come on, sit up."

He shifted, sitting cross-legged in front of me. His hair, long and thick, was perfect for braiding.

I separated it into sections and began weaving them together.

The room was quiet except for the distant hum of a bassline coming from one of the bedrooms.

As I worked, I could feel the tension melting from his shoulders, his eyes half-closed in relaxation.

“You know," he said after a while, "I've always wondered how you do this. It looks so complicated."

“It's not that hard once you get the hang of it," I replied, tying off the end of the braid with a small elastic band I found on my wrist. "I could teach you if you want."

He laughed, the sound warm and comforting. "Yeah, right. I'd probably make a mess of it."

"I can teach you," I insisted, feeling a bit playful. "Come on, give it a try."

I turned around, gathering my own hair into a loose ponytail and then splitting it into three sections. James looked at the strands with trepidation, his fingers hovering uncertainly.

"Okay, so you take the right section and cross it over the middle," I instructed. "Then you take the left section and cross it over the new middle section. It's like a pattern—right over middle, left over middle."

He nodded, biting his lip in concentration as he tried to follow my instructions.

His hands were clumsy at first, the strands slipping from his fingers. I could feel the tension in his movements, the gentle tugging as he struggled to keep the sections separate.

“You're doing good, Jamie," I encouraged with a giggle, even though I could feel the knots forming in my hair.

He muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a curse. "I don't know how you do this so easily," he said, his frustration evident.

"It's just practice," I said, giggling slightly as another knot tightened. "You're doing fine."

Finally, he stopped, letting out a deep sigh. "Shit, baby… I think I just made a huge mess."

I reached up, feeling the tangled sections of hair and couldn't help but laugh. "Well, it's definitely... unique."

James looked genuinely remorseful. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

“Hey, it's okay," I interrupted, pulling him close. "It's just hair. We can fix it."

He wrapped his arms around me, resting his forehead against mine. "You're way too nice to me."

"That's because you're worth it," I said softly, running my fingers over his smooth braid. "And besides, now we have an excuse to cuddle."

We lay back down on the sofa, his head on my chest this time.

The warmth of his body against mine was comforting, the rise and fall of his breathing soothing. I stroked my hair, gently working out the tangles he'd accidentally created.

"I'm really sorry about the knots," he murmured, his voice drowsy.

"It's okay, you don’t have to apologize, James," I reassured him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He smiled against my skin, his arms tightening around me. "I love you," he whispered, the words making my heart skip a beat.

"I love you too," I replied, feeling a warmth grip my chest.

We lay there in comfortable silence, everything felt perfect. Just the two of us, tangled hair and all, wrapped up in each other.

#reqs open #metallica #request #fanfic #metallica x reader #james hetfield #james hetfield headcannons #james hetfield x you #james hetfield x oc #james hetfield fluff #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield imagines #james hetfield fic #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica fluff #metallica headcanons #metallica fanfiction #fanfiction #oneshot #mustainegf

[normal-person-i-promise]

slurred teases and sweet kisses

arataka reigen/female reader

tw for drinking, bars, intoxication

You roll your eyes as he takes another sip of his drink, his mouth set in smug grin as he swirls the liquid in his glass and watches as the ice clinks against the walls of his cup. With each sip he takes, his face gets more flushed, his words get more slurred.

Arataka has an embarrassingly low tolerance to alcohol, and you're witnessing it firsthand. He's feeling it too; that urge to kiss you is a lot stronger than usual...

★ ★ ★

...Should he invite you? You're just his employee after all, and the both of you would be alone in the bar...

Arataka glances at you for a moment, looking up from the newspaper he was reading at his desk. He's not actually reading it, of course — he can barely concentrate on breathing when you're in the room with him. You're just so... Distracting, he can't help it.

The slow rise and fall of your chest, the motion of your hand as you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, the way your eyes would flit between him and the window — Arataka could watch you for hours and not grow bored.

If Arataka invites you to just... Go to that bar he used to be a usual at, then the two of you would be alone. Like a date, which it— it isn't, of course— that would be crazy! There's no way you'd want to date Arataka, of all people, it just doesn't make sense for you to like him!

You think of him as an employer, a friend, maybe a close one, but just that! Nothing more, nothing less!

Arataka exhales sharply through his nose, flipping the page to look like he's reading the paper. He can feel the grain of the grey newspaper between his fingertips as he rubs his finger absentmindedly on the edge, pick up that faint scent of printed paper in the air.

You risk a glance at him, and your eyes shimmer with the evening sun's light as you study his features: his disinterested gaze, his relaxed posture, his incurious expression. He's... Mesmering to look at in this state, this boredom, especially since he's so expressive usually.

He also looks rather attractive, but that doesn't really matter.

You can see him stiffen, trying to ignore how hot he feels with your eyes roaming all over his body, but... Not that he doesn't enjoy it, of course — Arataka adores when you study him, just like how he studies you. You've noticed a lot of things about him by now; the way he'd adjust his grip on the newspaper, the way his eyes skim over the text, the way he leans back in his chair, his posture relaxed; bored.

You quickly avert your gaze, and Arataka feels a pang of sadness at the loss of your attention.

You, yourself, are not doing much. You're just... Sitting quietly at the little couch in the corner of the room, waiting patiently for the customers to come in. You're staring out the window, watching as the pedestrians on the streets walk along back to their homes or to the restaurants and bars, watching the way the trees sway in the light breeze, some of their vibrant green leaves falling off the sharp brown branches.

It's your job, after all — the job Arataka is paying you for — to be whatever customer service is needed when he's too busy exorcising the client's spirits or helping talk through their worries.

You take a slow, deep breath, inhaling that familiar scent of salt and incense, of sweat and cologne.

Arataka doesn't need you, not really. He just wants an excuse to see your face day after day after day, hear your darling little voice call his name when you need help.

He likes it most during that little frame of time when Mob has left to go back home, but you're still in the office — alone — with him, simply coexisting in eachother's presence. This is the time that he'd talk to you, joke with you, spend time with you — but just because he enjoys talking to you for every second of the day you're with him doesn't mean that he isn't content in settling into a comfortable silence with you. He likes... Coexisting with you, whether you're on your phone or looking out the window, whether he's reading the newspaper or watching the little TV in the corner of the room.

It's... Nice, in a way, to have someone care about you just as much as you care about him.

"The sky's pretty nice, isn't it?" You say to Arataka, tapping on the glass with your finger and bringing his attention to it.

It is rather pretty; golds and oranges are strewn across the sky like an artist's first experimental brush strokes on their canvas, the colours shifting with every minute that passes as the sun goes lower and lower on the horizon. The clouds are rimmed gold — a delicate, thin outline to show its form, shimmering and soft as the light bounces off it.

It's not sunset yet, no, but — oh, how that golden light spills into the room, how it makes Arataka's eyes sparkle—

"Yeah, it is pretty."

His words are simple, but it's evident that he's fighting himself to keep his tone disinterested. He doesn't want to show interest in you: he'd look like a fool. He doesn't want to look like a fool in front of the girl he likes.

You clear your throat (you always do that when you need to distract yourself from your thoughts, Arataka's noted), and you settle back in your seat. He grins, an opportunity to tease you coming to his mind, the words already beginning to brew.

"You what looks nicer, though?" He asks, his tone playful as he looks you up and down, feeling pleasant shivers run down your spine. It feels so... Good, to be the object of his attention, to be the subject of his praise.

"What?" You ask, crossing your legs as you lean back in your chair. You're grinning pridefully, knowing that he'll most definitely say you're prettier.

Arataka's thin smile widens noticeably, his eyes narrowing in delight.

"Me, of course."

You roll your eyes, though it's clear you mean nothing malicious by it. "Oh, please, Arataka," you say, your tone teasing, "you're full of yourself. You're a lot uglier than the sky."

A lie. To set off any suspicions that you like him.

He just grins wider, settling into his seat like a proud king.

Even though it's nothing more than light, playful banter, every second Arataka spends with you feels like a moment in heaven — your voice the angel's songs, your hair their shining halos. You never refuse any of his silly little jokes, always laugh at those half-wit puns he makes, and it... It sends waves of butterflies to his stomach, knowing that you enjoy being around him, knowing that you like being his friend.

And vice versa — every second you spend with Arataka is such fun, such enjoyment, that you lose track of time and go back home hours later than intended. He's just so... Fun to talk to, what with his witty replies and clever jokes, his carefully placed puns and playfully sharp remarks. He's such a joker, always able to make you laugh, and he likes it. He likes hearing your laugh. He likes it a lot.

The newspaper crinkles loudly as Arataka folds it, placing it on the desk. Struggling to keep his expression neutral and his voice level, he asks you a simple question.

"Wanna go out for drinks later?" Grinning, now, "I'll pay."

Please say yes. Please, please say yes.

You hum in thought as if you don't know your answer already. Your voice is light; playful, and Arataka can hear the grin plastered on your face when you reply.

"I don't know... I don't drink."

You don't, that bit is true: you've tried, and failed, to enjoy alcohol and intoxication. It's just so... Sour, and overwhelming, and it feels so horrible the next day.

Arataka lets out an exasperated groan, but the both of you know it's fake.

"Come on— please?"

He leans on the desk, his whole upper body resting on the wood, trying to get as close to you as he can to you without getting up. His eyes almost seem to sparkle as he smiles wide, trying as hard as he can to convince you, knowing you can't say no to that god forsaken smile. "Pretty please? It's my birthday!"

He's almost pleading as he tilts his head innocently, his cheeks resting comfortably in his hands, his elbows planted on the desk. "You don't wanna upset the birthday boy, do you?"

You sigh, though you aren't annoyed. You can't say no, the both of you know that — especially since it's his birthday. And, unbeknownst to you, it's the first birthday Arataka will be spending with a friend in a long, long time. He's ecstatic, Especially since it's you.

Even if it's just one friend, and even if that friend is a girl he really likes is his employee, it's still counted, right?

You... Are a friend, right?

Because the way your pretty little lips would curl into a grin whenever you'd tease him, the way your words would cause him to erupt into fits of laughter, the way you always enjoyed the little games of banter the two of you often shared certainly made it seem so.

You roll your eyes at his display.

"Fine, fine, okay. I'll go celebrate your birthday with you or whatever."

Arataka has to hide his excitement, struggling to keep himself from smiling ear to ear, struggling to ignore how his heart flutters, struggling to ignore that familiar feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

He always feels this way when he's with you though, so he's gotten pretty good at ignoring it.

"When do you say we should go?"

Arataka tilts his head more heavily to the side as he asks you that question, his eyes roaming around the room as he thinks. You watch as he shifts in his chair, trying in vain to get comfortable in the god awful position he's sitting in.

His grin widens. "Now?"

Flitting your eyes to the clock and reading the time quickly, you answer him, your voice level; though there's a slight undertone — barely even there — of a playful, almost accusational chide. You're just buying time to annoy him, giving him pointless excuses.

"It's still ten minutes to closing."

Arataka sighs in dramatised exasperation, putting such an emphasis on the rolling of his eyes that it makes you scoff in playful annoyance. It makes his heart flutter, knowing that you're entertained by him. God, how he loves that voice of yours... How he loves you...

Spinning his hand so fast that it's a blur, he stops abruptly, pointing to himself as he grins proudly. "I'm the boss, here. I can close this place any time I want."

He gets his elbows off the desk, kicking his feet onto the wood as you hum in response to his words. Nodding as you speak, you agree with him. "Good point, good point."

Arataka and you clean up the office a little, sweeping the corners here and dusting the chair over there. The two of you are in a comfortable silence, content enough with the fact that you're in each other's presence.

As you clean, Arataka can't help but notice — he always notices — all those little things you do: the way you place one foot in front of the other to the beat of the song stuck in your head; the way you hum softly to yourself, quiet enough to think he can't hear; the way your eyes would catch glimpses of his every so often.

More often than not, he'd get lost in all your little habits. It's just... The minor ways you'd entertain yourself as you clean, the manner in which you would tuck your hair behind your ear, the way you'd roll your sleeves up before doing anything, is so... Cute, you're so cute...

It's not long before the place is as good as new, and Arataka is switching the lights off and taking the keys to the door.

"After you, m'lady," he says in an unnecessarily posh voice, bowing slightly as he opens the door for you. You nod, thanking him as you step out, bathed the hot summer night air — it's humid, the air thick with moisture as you breathe in the scent of moist pavement and soaked leaves from the rain that had happened a few hours earlier.

The more you walk, the more you can hear the bustling of the shopkeepers in their kitchens and behind their counters, pick up the buzz of the neon signs just beginning to flicker on, listen to the indistinct chatter of the night life starting to settle into the bars and night clubs. Though it's faint, it's most definitely there, and it's getting louder and louder with each minute that passes.

The walk to the bar isn't quiet; it's never quiet when the two of you walk together. The air is always filled with friendly conversation, laughter and giggles peppered in here and there, occasional glimpses at his soft, pink lips...

Arataka is taking in every little thing about you, from the way your smile would form to the tapping of your shoes on the pavement. You're... Perfect, you.

He tries his best to match your pace, making sure that his footfalls are in tandem with yours, making sure that you both are walking as one.

If someone was looking on at the two of you, they'd think you were a couple.

A few minutes later, Arataka is pushing open the door of the Happy Trails bar, gesturing for you to enter. The floor is sticky, the air thick with the sharp smell of alcohol and sweaty office workers. The lights are dim; warm, inviting, as you take a seat after Arataka pulls one out for you.

"So what'll you have?" He asks, flashing you the most charming grin he can muster. He settles into his seat, getting more comfortable: unbuttoning his suit jacket, loosening that pink tie on his neck, undoing the top buttons of his immaculate white dress shirt. God, he's so hot—

It's hard to keep from staring, but you manage.

You shrug. "Just soda."

Arataka nods, not questioning it as he calls the bartender over and ordering for both you and him: an iced cola for you, and a lemon sour — extra sour — for him. He always orders that, and, based on the few times you've gone out drinking with him, you don't think he drinks anything else.

He settles into his seat, and you struggle to get your voice to pierce through the indistinct conversations of the other patrons.

"So, Arataka," you nearly shout, your tone playful, "how do you feel now that you're 28?"

He hums in thought, bringing a fist to his chin as he thinks about his answer.

He shrugs.

"So-so, but—" he pauses for dramatic effect, the shadow of a grin ghosting on his lips —"I'm feeling a whole lot better since you're here to help me into my old age."

You laugh slightly at his little joke. Arataka's dopey little grin widens with pride, having made you giggle yet again.

Your drinks arrive a little after this, and you can't help but notice the bartender giving you an accusational side eye as he slides the both of you your glasses, seeming to doubt the fact that you and Arataka aren't dating.

"Oh, come now, Arataka—" his heart flutters at the sound of your voice saying his name —"you're not that old." Your grin widens, your tone teasing. "You look a lot older, though."

He lets out an offended half laugh, shoving your shoulder playfully in mock offence. "How mean!" He cries, trying in vain to make his voice sound offended.

It's quiet as you sip your cola slowly, and you're not blind to the way Arataka's eyes follow your tongue as it darts out to get whatever droplets of your drink missed your mouth.

...God, how he wants to taste that sharp, teasing mouth of yours, feel every crevice and crease of your lips as they press into his... How he wants to run his hands through your soft hair as he combs it out of the way of your perfect face, how he wants whisper sweet nothings into your ear as you fall asleep in his arms...

"You should... Really watch that tongue of yours," he warns playfully, his words beginning to slur, fighting to ignore his thoughts. He's barely even had a sip of his drink, and he already looks like he's about to pass out.

He wags a wobbly finger in your face like a mother reprimanding her child. "I might get tired of you and fire you."

You roll your eyes, scoffing.

"We both know you like me too much."

"Oh, Arataka," you tease, leaning in close — close enough to smell the scent of his expensive cologne, close enough to smell the alcohol on his breath, close enough to feel just how hot he is. He grits his teeth, struggling not to close the distance between the two of you as you speak lowly, quietly: for his ears only.

And he— he blushes, oh, and he pushes you away with the tip of his unsteady finger to your forehead. You swallow the slight hurt you feel as Arataka replies, his response clumsy as always — more so now that he's drunk. "And we... Both know you like me too much to let yourself... Get fired."

You roll your eyes as he takes another sip of his drink, his mouth set in smug grin as he swirls the liquid in his glass and watches as the ice clinks against the walls of his cup. With each sip he takes, his face gets more flushed, his words get more slurred.

Arataka has an embarrassingly low tolerance to alcohol, and you're witnessing it firsthand. He's feeling it too; that urge to kiss you is a lot stronger than usual...

And though the motion is wobbly, unbalanced, now it's his turn to lean in close. He almost falls on you.

His grin is wide, and though it's lopsided from the alcohol, it still manages to be annoyingly smug, and... Wonderfully endearing, too, like he's trying to make you happy regardless of how his vision blurs and his head pounds. "I'm... Doing you a favour for not... Firing you, you know."

You scoff mockingly at his words, drinking your soda as you grin. "Please, Arataka"— another rush of butterflies to his stomach —"I know I'm far too important to you to just... Get rid of."

You're grinning smugly now, leaning in closer to his face. Your noses are almost touching, and you can almost taste his lips now — the sweetness of alcohol mixing with the sharp mint of his mouthwash, his saliva thick as Arataka swallows. You're not blind to how his unfocused eyes fall down to your mouth for a moment, licking his lips like he's looking at a freshly cooked meal, ready for devouring.

"Ah, but you need to... To remember," he says, leaning away from you, gripping the table in tight hands to stop himself from falling off his barstool. He squints as he talks, trying hard to form the words. "I could totally just do it right now. Nothing's... Stopping me."

You sigh, smiling, rolling your eyes but staying quiet.

Arataka downs the remainder of his drink in one swift gulp, slamming the cup down onto the wooden bar table with a loud thud.

He doesn't order another one, thankfully, because at the rate he's getting drunk, he's bound to pass out or vomit anytime soon. His cheeks are an almost bright red, his eyes half-lidded and glossed over, unfocused as he stares at you; when he breathes, you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

You sip your soda, licking the glass a little to see how he reacts get the drops that missed your mouth. Arataka watches your tongue, almost hungrily so, his gaze unblinking and his breathing shallow.

"Hey, Arataka."

You want to try and get as many secrets as you can get out of a drunk Arataka, just to have something to either a) tease him about, or b) blackmail him with.

"What do you think about me?" You ask, grinning.

Arataka shifts in his seat, thinking hard about his answer, and doing it for a suspiciously long time. A plan to avoid your question brews, half-finished in his mind.

He gives you a lopsided grin, leaning in with a shaky, unsteady motion, before abruptly jerking away and pressing his hands to his mouth as if he's trying to prevent himself from vomiting. As he hunches over on himself, your face immediately shifts to one of concern, your brows furrowing and your grin disappearing.

"...Arataka? You okay...?" You ask gently, rubbing his back. You've seen him vomit aggressively after taking so much as a sip of alcohol, and you're definitely preparing to wipe bile from the corners of his mouth.

It's quiet for a moment, save for the clinking of glass and the chatter of overlapping conversation.

"I... Eugh." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grimacing as he feels his head pound — and that plan, that drunk one that sober Arataka would definitely not approve of, starts forming more clearly in his mind.

You grow more worried the more you watch, his movements shaky, his words all blending together. He thinks he's doing a pretty good job at looking like he's going to vomit — and since you're acting so worried about him, then he'd wager that his plan is working.

"Arataka, are you okay?" You ask again, your voice firmer, though still retaining that soft, quiet worry. You rub what you hope are soothing circles on his back, and you can see him visibly relax, letting out a long sigh.

"'M fine," he mumbles, swatting your hand away, his eyes struggling to open.

It's working, it's working! Keep going, Arataka!

Just as you're about to speak again, Arataka opens his mouth, faking a retch, and you panic. He falls — definitely not accidentally — straight into your lap, and it takes a moment to register that no vomit has come from his mouth before you hit him playfully on his forehead. His heart skips a beat when you don't push him off, merely just hitting him.

"Ow!" He exclaims, his grin crooked as he struggles to fake a grimace of pain, rubbing the spot you hit him.

"Even when you're drunk, you still manage to annoy me," you grumble, though the amused smile on your face gives away what you're feeling.

You ruffle his hair a little, tangling your fingers in between the delicate golden strands — and he lets out a sigh at your touch, closing his eyes in contentment. Your heart beats faster as you look at him: his flushed cheeks and content, closed eyes, his relaxed body resting in your lap — god, you have to fight yourself not to plant a kiss on his low, pointed nose.

Arataka pries open his eyes when you stop combing through his hair with your fingers.

"What... Can I say," he says slowly, looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as one of a lover's: sweet, tender, and affectionate. "I love... Seeing your smile."

Your heart flutters.

The two of you stay in this position for a while, a position a lot like a couples'. Neither of you complain — if anything, the both of you enjoy it — and it's not long before Arataka's eyes slowly shut, his breathing slowing as he starts to fall asleep in your lap.

You feel butterflies in your stomach when you gaze upon his calm expression: his eyes closed firmly shut, his kissable lips curved in a slight smile, his face relaxed.

The bar is almost empty now, save for three or four people having a conversation at one of the tables in the corner. You can pick up their mumbling: they're talking about the two of you, how Arataka didn't vomit yet, how he used to be a usual at this bar, how he never brought any girls with him until today, and what a surprise that he managed to pull such a pretty one.

"Happy birthday, Arataka," you say — and, smiling, you push those golden bangs out of the way with a hand and plant a firm, chaste kiss on his forehead. It's a kiss you've wanted to give him for a long time, but also one you're forced to keep short, just in case you're overstepping boundaries.

Arataka's eyes snap open and widen considerably, his face flushing even more than you thought was possible. He's speechless for a moment as he brings a shaky hand up to feel where your lips touched him, his heart beating a million times a minute, his breathing quick and shallow.

He just... Stares at you, starry eyed, for a minute, his mouth slightly agape.

"Again," he says impatiently, his tone demanding as he brings his hand down to rest, clasped with the other, in his lap. "As... The birthday boy, this is... Is my birthday gift from you. Kiss... Me, again."

He snaps back to reality.

You smile, letting out a slight chuckle at his slurred demand.

"You're sure you won't regret it tomorrow...?" You ask slowly, playfully, as you rake your fingers through his soft, blonde hair. You know he most definitely will.

Arataka shakes his head vigorously in your lap, though stops immediately when he starts to feel his head pound, wincing.

You just watch him for a moment, combing gentle fingers through his hair, smiling in amusement at his impatience. He whines when you don't do what he asked for yet, just staring at him, and he repeats his demand.

"Kiss me. Right... Here," he mumbles, tapping a shaky finger to his forehead.

You oblige, pressing a gentle kiss to his skin, pushing his bangs aside. He sighs, closing his eyes. And when you pull away, "Again," he says almost immediately.

You happily oblige, kissing him there once more.

He stops for a moment, breathing shakily, before getting up from your lap abruptly and wrapping his arms around you tightly. In the process of doing this, his unsteady movements cause the both of you to fall onto the bar stools beside you, so that Arataka is lying down comfortably on top of you; your noses almost touching, your lips just inches away from each other. He's so... Drunk, and so, so cute...

The bartender gives you a stern look, and you flash him an apologetic smile.

Arataka's eyes, half-lidded, fall down to your mouth, and he brings an unsteady hand to cradle your chin as he runs a shaky thumb over your bottom lip.

"...Can I...?" Arataka asks in a low, mumbly slur, his eyes unblinking as he stares at your lips.

You heart races as you nod, and it's barely a moment before he's pressing his lips tightly to yours, shifting and moving them until they're slotted comfortably against each other. His eyes flutter shut as he gets comfortable lying on top of you, getting more accustomed to the soft cloth of your clothes as he runs a hand down your side, getting more used to the soft strands of your hair that he's been itching to run his fingers through.

Arataka tastes... Sour, mostly from the drink he had a few moments ago. There's the faint, sharp tang of the alcohol, too; a sweet, distinct flavour, a rich undertone to the myriad of tastes you manage to sample as his lips shift against yours.

His lips are cracked, chapped, and dry, but you couldn't care less as he tangles a hand in your hair, the other holding your head in place as he tilts his own head to press his lips even more into yours. He grunts, seemingly not satisfied, and pushes his lips onto yours until the kiss is almost bruising.

Your face is flushed when you break the kiss. Though it's short, sweet, and chaste, it's clear that Arataka wants more. You both do.

Just as he's leaning in to kiss you again, the bartender taps your shoulder, glaring at you sharply and jabbing a thumb in the direction of the door. You blurt out a mumbled apology, scrambling to get up, Arataka nearly falling. As promised, he slips the bartender about one and a half times more money than owed.

You both wordlessly exit the bar, and as you walk, Arataka stumbles behind you. He's unsteady; his path is a winding zigzag in comparison to yours, struggling to keep to a straight line and nearly falling onto the road multiple times — and as a way to counter this, you wrap your arm securely around his waist. Arataka responds by leaning his weight onto you, and you both continue on without much issue or argument.

It's much later in the night now; the cars on the road are whizzing past the two of you, the shops all closed with their shutters pulled down over the windows.

The air is heavy with humidity, and you can feel Arataka's sweat from where he presses himself against you. Arataka himself smells of that familiar sharp, sour smell of sweat; the faint scent of salt; and that sweet, sweet cologne he wears. The fabric of the suit is soft as you grip him tightly, every step he takes making him sway more and more until it's clear he's going to either vomit or pass out.

A few moments later, he calls your name in a mumbly, shaky voice, before hurriedly pushing you off him as he staggers to the drain. Before you know what's going on, you're at his side as he vomits a sickly green bile.

You pat his back reassuringly, now only registering that he's vomiting.

"We're staying... At your house, right?" He mumbles, though he stumbles slightly, and alarm flashes across his face as he swings his hands about to get balanced before he manages to stand straight again. He widens the skewed grin in his face, trying his absolute best to look charming, and failing. It's still adorable, though.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Arataka grins at you, though his eyes are struggling to open and his smile is lopsided.

You snicker, nodding in response.

"Let's go, Arataka."

You slide your arm around his waist, and he leans nearly all his bodyweight on you as the two of you walk to your flat.

The walk is quiet as Arataka struggles not to vomit again, barely being able to stay awake to avoid falling unconscious in your arms — it would be a shame if you held him tenderly and he wasn't there to experience it. Nobody's on the streets, so it's just the two of you, save for a car that comes every so often.

The only sound you can hear is the steady tap, tap, tapping of your shoes on the pavement, followed by the much more unsteady beat of Arataka's shiny black dress shoes as he walks beside you.

Neither of you say anything when you walk, neither of you speak when you unlock your front door, neither of you argue when you lead him to your bedroom.

You set him down on the bed slowly, slipping off his grey coat and undoing his necktie. The whole time you're doing this, Arataka's just... Watching you. His eyes, fixed on you, are glassed over, unfocused — but full of so, so much love.

He doesn't say a word as he gets comfortable in your bed, and when he holds you in his arms, falling asleep, it's silent.

★ ★ ★

thanks for reading!!

prologue is on its way!! maybe even a full second chapter.... oooo..... oooooo...........

#oooooooh hahahaaaa look at that 🫵🫵🫵 look at that pathetic man ooooooooooh hahahahaha 🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵 #i dont know what alcohol tastes like im sorry 😔😔😔 #i have no idea how this man would act around someone he likes bro im so clueless #is it too fast or too slow #please answer #youd better answer #btw im trying to do a more arataka centered pov rather than the usual more reader inclined pov #trying something new bear with me here #rrrrr the front bit seems so fast..... is it too fast #i love that over the course of the month that ive been editing this you can see my thoughts by reading the tags #DONE IM DONE #SICK AND TIRED OF EDITING I HATE EDITING #reigen arataka #reigen arataka x reader #arataka reigen #arataka reigen x reader #reigen x readee #arataka x reader #tw drinking #drinking tw #drinking #alcohol #tw alcohol #alcohol tw

[mcondance]

so what do i have to do to be tim’s gf who sits on his lap and gets kissed every two seconds while he talks about whatever with his friends

#whispering silly inside jokes with him and giggling about them #him holding you tight in his lap and playing with your hair absentmindedly as he talks with his friends #tim laflour #tim laflour x reader #somehow he manages a convo between his friends and you at the same time #kissing you while responding to his friends #mumbling the responses against your lips and then kissing you #[tim]

[writinginthesecrettrees]

Sammy gets songs stuck in his head. The only problem is these songs don’t exist.

Years pass, and suddenly that one song he wouldn’t stop singing, annoying the crap out of Dean and Dad in his 11-year-old soprano, is everywhere on the radio.

#weechesters #supernatural #in my mind the song is ‘I kissed a girl’ katy perry and can you imagine how it would have bugged the elder winchester men? #little baby sammy singing ‘i hope my boyfriend don’t mind it’ in the backseat #absentmindedly #the way one does when a song is running around their brain

[14fucks]

oral fixation not in the "put your fingers in my mouth" way but in the "i will put my mouth on you at any given time" way

#biting kissing just having my lips on someone #heart eyes sm #i wanna just kiss someone a the time #like please let me put my lips on you #when im high i just rub my lips lightly on my fingers it's almost a stim #gently grazing my lips on skin feels really good ok let me do it to you #absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmindedly kisses you absentmind #nblw #lesbian #wlw yearning #wlw #saphic yearning #butch yearning #butch4femme

[toxicshumai]

The idea of MC having pact marks on their body is very good but I think it would be very sexy if the demon bros had identical pact marks in the same place. Just twinning with their human. Another cute possibility would be MC and the bros each having half a pact mark.

#Mammon goes absolutely wild and has his on display all the time #It's on his ass cheek? Assless chaps for life now babey! #Asmo loves taking devilgram pictures of both of you showing off your matching pact marks #Lucifer looks down at his when he's busy and misses you #Satan absentmindedly rubs his thumb along his while reading or when he needs to calm down #Tell Levi you want to press your pact marks together to make them kiss and he'll explode

[plainemmanem]

emma you literally think of the perfect, littlest details it drives me crazyyyy you really do think of every thing huh

i love focusing on the little things bc steve is so so intricate in my head and it literally drives me crazy if i don’t perfectly express to my besties what the vision is.

#like the slight shake in his hands when he leans in for a needy kiss and the way his thumb rubs your knuckles under the table #and the way he scrunches his face at you for a second when you say something cute and the way he gives you a little once over in the morning #and the way he scratches at the table absentmindedly when he can’t hold your hand to distract him #and the smile he has just for you in the mornings and the little kiss he gives the back of ur head when ur talking to robin all animatedly:)

[novelbear]

quiet acts of love that make me cry 🫂

prompt list by @novelbear

always giving the other the first bite of their food

^ or the last bite

gently resting their head on their shoulder when taking a picture/peeking at something

kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose.

zipping or buttoning their jacket for them

when they follow the sidewalk rule :(

^ like imagine realizing it as they gently take the other's wrist and guide them to the other side...omg

waiting until they safely reach the front of the door or get inside before driving off

"did you eat today?"

softly dusting crumbs from their cheeks when eating

^ or even better: kissing it off

"wear a jacket, it's cold out."

watching a movie or show that they know they're interested in.

^ not because they asked them to, but to be able to engage in more conversation related to it when they adorably ramble on and on.

doing their makeup for them

"i brought you flowers." "for what?" "there has to be a reason?"

keeping a few of their favorite snacks in the house for when they visit.

opening the door for them or pulling their seat out before they sit down

lifting the shorter one up so they can be seen in photos

absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times

fixing their clothes a little for them when noticing something is off

#otp prompts #writing prompts #imagine your otp #otp writing #writeblr #prompt list #otp #romance prompts #fluff prompts #cute prompts #love prompts #dialogue prompts #writing #prompts

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

#teepods.writings #thirstee! #rich boy! au #fics. #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut