#day x reader

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use

Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)

summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)

cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex

note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"

Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring. 

You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.

Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances. 

Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees. 

And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm. 

Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.

It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.

———————————————————————

You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove. 

Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.

There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.

“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.

“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.

One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”

You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.

Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.

“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”

You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”

He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”

He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.

He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.

“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”

“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”

“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”

“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”

You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”

“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”

He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”

You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.

Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”

You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs. 

He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.

“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”

The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.

It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”

You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”

He smirks, “Nope.”

John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”

“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench. 

“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.

“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”

Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”

Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”

You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”

He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.

———————————————————————

You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.

Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.

You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”

“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!” 

That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”

Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.

You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips. 

Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.

“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”

“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.

“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.

“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”

He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”

You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”

You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.

“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”

You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”

It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.

“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”

“She tight, Johnny?”

You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.

There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.

Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.

“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”

You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses. 

“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”

“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”

Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”

You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier. 

The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you. 

You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat. 

The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.

“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.

“Me too, bonnie.”

He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.

“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.

It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”

You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours. 

“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”

Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.

Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”

You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”

Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.

He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.

You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.

You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.

———————————————————————

You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”

He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in. 

“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”

You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”

“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”

It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.

Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.

It doesn’t make the wait any easier.

You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.

“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”

The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.

“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.

On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.

Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely. 

The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.

He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”

And, well, who are you to disobey?

You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.

“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”

“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”

“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”

“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”

“Yes, yes…”

“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”

“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”

“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”

He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.

When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.

“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.

“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”

“Alright. Need any help tonight?”

“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”

You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”

A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner. 

———————————————————————

You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.

“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”

You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.

You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.

You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.

Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth. 

You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.

“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”

You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.

He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.

Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”

You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state. 

So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.

#fun fact: this is completely unedited! anyway - yall ready for these tags? #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 31 #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #john price x reader #john price #price x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #poly 141 x reader #141 x reader #is that all? did i do it right? IDK! #oh wait #bo writes #kyle garrick x reader #now that we're at the ends of the tags can i confess that i kinda hate this?

[rizsu]

ever since nanami met you, his personal space was always invaded. if he was soaking away in the bathtub, you'd be right there. if he fell asleep before you did, you'd snug yourself into his embrace when you're going to sleep.

he didn't mind it— after all, nanami was an enthusiast for physical touch and warmth from body heat instead of a blanket.

perhaps it's too much warmth now. the nights that he spent meticulously balancing cold and hot temperatures are now filled with hot and hot. on one side, there's you with a leg thrown over him. on the other side, there's a baby sleeping soundly on his torso.

it's now common for him to sweat a little, but who cares? there's now a baby in the picture, the euphoria he experiences is at its highest; his domestic family feelings have finally been met with reality. a little sweat is nothing.

again, the overpowering warmth keeps him awake— even when he's shirtless. nanami tries his best to not pay any mind to the drool that's settling on his chest from the baby's mouth. as long as it's peacefully quiet without cries that are louder than an alarm.

with his free hand, he cups your face, caressing the cheek with his fingers. he wants to lay a kiss on your forehead, but he can't risk unintentionally waking the infant. it saddens him, but the small, subconscious smile on your face from his touch is more than enough.

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen. #rip nanami u wouldve loved posting tiktoks of ur baby #“(baby's name) first steps” “(baby's name) outfit of the day” #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk drabbles

[yueebby]

how i met your mother  — gojo satoru

contents. fluff, meet ugly, established relationship, highschool!gojo in flashback, gojo just loves his wife and everyone is sick of it

notes. this is apart of my indulge me series but everything can be read as a standalone!

“you forgot to give me a kiss this morning,” your husband pouts from your lap before puckering his lips out, “i’ll need a thousand more to compensate!” 

just a couple meters away from you, paper crinkles harshly as nanami, your fellow colleague, flips the page on the newspaper he’s reading. you hear a heavy sigh leave his lips.  “i missed it when you both hated each other,” he readjusts his glasses with one hand tiredly. he’s disappointed, but not surprised with satoru’s behavior.

this comment causes itadori, who happened to be hanging out in the teacher’s lounge to perk up.

“gojo-sensei and gojo-san hated each other?” he sits up straight on the couch. the pink haired boy looks between you and satoru, who is purring happily as you play with his hair. “i can’t imagine that..” he mumbles quietly. he was, unfortunately, a first hand witness of gojo’s love for you.

the white haired male that was comfortably nestled in your lap looks up at you, “ah! she tried so hard to resist my charms, but this handsome face won in the end!” his loud boast leads you to cover his mouth with the palm of your hand.

“that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” you press your palm harder against his mouth, determined to silence his protests. 

nanami easily ignores his senior’s muffled whines while itadori looks at his sensei in pity. marriage must be tough, he thinks.

you only lift your hand off of his mouth with a shriek when satoru decides to lick your palm. he smirks proudly at himself causing the other two males in the room to grimace at the strange display of affection. 

“darling, you hated me?” his eyes blink up at you innocently, blue eyes on full display. you purse your lips together, resisting whatever game he was playing at. from the moment you stepped into the lounge with him, he insisted on taking his blindfold off. he argues that he has to see you with his own eyes or he’ll die. you argue that he’s dramatic. nonetheless, satoru was cute so you’ll let him get away with it. 

“hate is a strong word– i just didn’t like you very much. we got off on the wrong foot, might i remind you.” 

2005 — year one at tokyo jujutsu tech

meet at 1 chome-1-1 dogenzaka, shibuya city, tokyo

that was written in the letter addressed to you from yaga. the bustling streets of tokyo, filled with the cacophony of hundreds of conversations and the rush of oncoming traffic, were a stark contrast to the serene country life you had enjoyed. 

the sheer mass of people in the street made it nearly impossible for you to spot your teacher and future classmates, but the heavens above must be on your side because you spot a dark uniform in the corner of your eye, similar to the one you’re wearing.

a jujutsu tech uniform! without wasting a second, you weave your way through the crowd to the tall figure. upon closer inspection, you find that it was a boy with snow hair, a juxtaposition to the dark fabric of his uniform.

“excuse me, but are you by any chance from–” you tap on the abnormally tall frame from behind.

“not interested.” he doesn’t spare you a glance before walking away. it takes you a minute to process what had just happened. did he just–? that must have been a figment of your imagination. you feel as though you were shell shocked.

another voice joins the conversation, “oh, gojo, you found her.” it was another guy with a uniform just like the white haired boy and yours. he has notable bangs, you think. 

“did i? she must be a real weakling. i couldn’t even sense her cursed energy,” gojo now turns back to look at you.

a surge of irritation courses through you, your grip on your skirt tightening. this guy must be some spoiled brat that came from a special lineage. you shoot him a sharp glare from the corner of your eyes, only to find out that he too had a sharp gaze on you.

a low whistle comes out of his mouth. 

 “oh,” there is a noticeable change in the tone of his voice. from your peripheral vision, you notice him take off his round sunglasses. “hey.”  you want to laugh.

out of pure pettiness, you recycle his previous comment, “not interested.”

thankfully, another student arrived, this time it was a girl with short brown hair. she waved at you politely, to which you happily smiled. it was nice to know that there were some people left in this world with manners.

soon after her arrival, yaga comes.

“hello, i’m [last name] [first name] from kyoto. please take care of me!” you bow before everyone but gojo or whatever his name is. you come to find out that mr. bangs is actually geto and the pretty girl is ieiri.

“you didn’t tell me she was hot,” gojo not-so-quietly whispers to geto. the hand over his mouth is in vain because you can still hear him clearly. both ieiri and geto make a distasteful face. 

you look around confused. it’s not everyday you receive such a brash compliment, “...thank you?” 

there’s a slightly horrified look on gojo’s face when he realizes that you had heard him, but he recovers quickly, replacing it with a cheshire grin.

“say, have you been to shinjuku? i’m sure a country bumpkin like you wouldn’t know, so allow me to–” 

there’s only so much patience in your body. with a deep breath and your best passive aggressive smile, you utter, “no thanks.” 

he blinks. once. twice. you assume he is not used to rejection with the way he has yet to process it. 

a soft chuckle leaves his mouth, “playing hard to get, i see. i like a challenge.”

“that’s not really the case.”

“one date,” he announces with a playful smirk, raising a single finger in emphasis.

you’re on the verge of shaking your head in rejection, but before you can, yaga intervenes, swiftly and unceremoniously slapping the back of gojo’s head.

“kids these days,” he mutters under his breath while gojo rubs the wound painfully. you snicker.

gojo straightens up when the sound of your laughs reaches his ears. his eyes track the sound waves back to your face, only to be disappointed when he sees that your attention is on geto. 

unlike gojo, geto was trying to salvage what was left of a good first impression. the black haired male smiles awkwardly, leading you away from his strange friend, “so you’re from kyoto? why didn’t you attend the jujutsu tech there?”

from behind you, there’s an incredulous, “eh? and lose a beauty like that to the kyoto guys?” 

you’re nearly certain that a blood vessel is about to pop. but you swallow your frustration, choosing to answer the only sensible boy you’ve met today.

“i’m trying to avoid clan matters, so kyoto is the last place i want to be,” you explain to geto who nods understandingly. 

what you don’t see is the sneaky wink he sends back at a fuming satoru.

2018 — present day

your recollection must not have been accurate, because your husband is sulking by the end of your story. 

“hmph. that’s not how i remember it.” he crosses his arm with a huff.

“how do you remember it? do tell.” you look down at him. there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap.

there’s a cheeky glint in his eyes, like you’ve just walked into his trap. “i remembered cherry blossoms falling and more hearts floating around,”

you smack his shoulder.

“be serious!”

he waves his hand in the air to stop your playful attacks, “fine, fine!” 

you know that he’s secretly enjoying the attention.

“well, i’m quite the looker so it was common for girls to constantly gush over me y’know?” he grins. you did not find that amusing, retracting your hands from his hair. he immediately grabs your hand and places it back on his head.

“let me finish!”

you resume your handiwork on his head reluctantly. “go on.”

there’s a content smile on his face, “i thought you were just trying to hit on me! it was only after i took a good look at you, i realized that you were totally hot.”

“i can’t believe i married you.” you roll your eyes, but there is no malice behind the action.

“hah–” his mouth is wide open. “i’m a total catch, ya’ know?!” 

“mhm, yeah. you are a catch toru,” you coo while pinching his cheek and he blushed furiously. 

the two of you are too engrossed with each other to notice the horrified look that has settled on nanami’s face. one peaceful afternoon, he thinks. one peaceful afternoon is all he asks for.

extra notes- 

yuji respects gojo as his teacher, but he still can’t believe that gojo was able to pull you.

there have been multiple occasions where you had forgotten to give satoru a goodmorning kiss, each time he finds you and forces you to actually give him a dozen to compensate. it doesn’t matter if he was on a mission or teaching (he’s annoying like that).

gojo’s the pride of the gojo clan so he was spoiled rotten, hence the reason why he was so sure you were into him.

this is only the start, as your high school years go by, he only falls harder.

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x reader #remember spring days!au

[shotmrmiller]

simon telling the guys he's got a girl to go home to post op and johnny's gobsmacked because him??

his simon? with a sweet thing?? that isn't repelled by his very existence??? he's gotta meet you! (he's also mildly upset that the rest of them are single. or is it jealousy that the man he's gotten himself off to is finally taken?)

it takes a little (a lot) of cajoling to at least show johnny a picture and when simon hands him his cracked phone, johnny whistles low and murmurs out a pretty lass.

and you do look pretty. you look pretty from the side as you're washing dishes, even with the gaudy yellow gloves covering up to your elbows. you're so pretty from the back as you're bent over, carefully basting the chicken you're baking. you even look pretty fuzzy, the camera blurring your features while zoomed in.

there's even a video of you but johnny doesn't overstep. he knows better. he waits for simon's go ahead, and once he gives the almost imperceptible nod, johnny quickly presses play.

the room is dim, the television casting a soft glow upon your face. your legs are folded beneath you, your gaze fixed on whatever it is you're watching, your hand reaching for the bowl of popcorn on the nightstand.

"ken wha' she's watchin'?"

"i dunno, but she's been into nature documentaries as of late."

johnny hums softly and the video comes to an end.

"yer a lucky man, LT."

simon doesn't say anything.

(and neither does johnny. not about the grilles of the window in every picture nor the quiet chirping of crickets and even quieter crunching of leaves in the video.)

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon going over and being like o thank god you're home you wouldn't believe the day that i had #you're like ??? who're you? #love that for you

[sukunasteeth]

When Sukuna kisses you, it feels like your heart is being ripped out of your chest.

You started out perched on his lap, but by now he's reduced you to a boneless, panting heap in his grasp. His arms supporting you are the only things keeping you from melting against him like liquid lust. You're desperate for a moment of solid ground to catch your breath, but Sukuna is adamant on continuously taking it away from you. His calloused hands inching their way up your shirt, brushing softly against your sides, over your rib cage, skimming the underside of your breasts, all in mesmerization at how soft your skin is.

"'Kuna..." You try to capture his attention, which has been taken by his fixation on how sensitive your ears were to the scrape of his teeth.

You're surprised when he answers with a distracted hum, "Yes, my little doe?"

"I -I need a second." You stutter, your heart is thumping wildly in your chest, despite how intoxicated and incapacitated you feel at his mercy. You were starting to forget how to breathe in his close proximity and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to keep your head straight with his natural scent acting like a pheromone.

You feel his wicked grin against your neck before you hear it in his voice, "Poor thing. Am I working you too hard? I rarely see you so out of sorts..." 

Sukuna doesn't even try to disguise his amusement at your complete inebriation with his kisses. His tongue presses against the nape of your throat before he follows a line of sweat up to your ear, leaving behind a cold stripe of his saliva against your burning hot skin. He holds you fast when you violently shiver against him, "It's a good look on you."

“Please…” You beg with whatever breath you can conjure for him but it comes out as more of a desperate little whimper. That was Sukuna’s favorite tone of your voice, after all. 

And desperate you were. Sukuna had been devouring you for so long, sucking and nipping and licking at whatever part of your revealed skin interested him. You could feel your legs forgetting how to operate.

You just needed a moment. 

Without his permission, you push away from his chest and manage to get to your feet in front of him. Your legs buckle, but you're able to catch yourself before you fall face first back into him. Sukuna is looking up at you, as kiss drunk as you felt, blinking slowly with a satisfied smile. 

“Give me just one sec-” You’re about to turn away. And then you see it. 

Sukuna had you so entranced with him, had your mind so far away from your body, that you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you had cleanly soaked through your panties on his lap. And there, on that oh-so-comfortable part of his thigh, that had quickly become one of your happy places, was a dark spot on his jeans from your wetness. 

All you could do was stare down at it, mortified. 

Which only has Sukuna following your gaze in momentary curiosity. 

“I-I’M…” You try to catch his attention again with the sound of your voice before his eyes can settle on the new mark, but Sukuna sees it first.

His grin quickly fades and your heart careens into your throat. You feel embarrassment shoot through you like a shot of adrenaline, coloring your already pink face a bright and rosy red. 

The clear solution to the undoubtedly awkward situation is to run, right?

“I’ll be right back-” But you don’t even move an inch before his hand snaps forward and latches onto the front pocket of your (his) hoodie, stopping you in place. 

Your heartbeat thumps in your red-hot ears and you go against every fiber of your being to meet his eyes.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going with my dinner?" The playful lilt of his tone has completely vanished and reveals a deep, dark starvation in its place.

"I work hard for my meals, you know?” 

#jjk #sukuna #smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #every day #I get closer and closer to producing the filthiest most jaw-dropping sukuna smut #till then #have a taste test #my writing

[ave661]

#fun fact this was my 1st version for Ghost for v day series #simon riley x reader #simon riley x fem #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #cod #mw2 #cod mw2 #mw3 #cod mw3 #modern warfare 2 #661ave

[sunsetsimon]

simon loves rubbing his nose against your skin. when he’s laying on top of you, his body pushing you into the mattress, covering you in a blanket of his warmth and scent. his head is tucked into your neck, trailing soft kisses along the skin, the tip of his nose tickling you, slightly curving as he drags it along.

“you just gonna keep smelling me or can i go pee now?” you ask, pushing on his shoulders but he doesn’t move.

“m’gonna keep smellin’ you,” he mumbles, voice muffled into your shoulder. his fingers creep along your neck, pulling the collar of your shirt to expose more of your skin.

“y’smell so good in the morning, darling,” simon inhales, overflowing his senses with you. after being in bed for 8 hours, your scent practically drenches the sheets. your body wash, lingering fragrance and something else he can never put into words - just your smell. and god does he love it, ready to spend the rest of his life in this bed with you.

#tiny blurb for valentines day 🩷 #.wbm #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

[saltoru]

being a jujutsu sorcerer and a parent rarely ends well. sorcerers who have to fight for their lives everyday barely have any time and energy even for themselves. adding babies to the picture is hard to imagine.

but gojo was determined to balance his work and personal life when you entered his life, which is why he has a baby girl strapped to his chest as he holds up his hand and crosses his fingers, already to send a special grade curse into his domain.

"daddy~" his baby babbles, cheek squished against his purple uniform.

"yes, baby?" gojo smiles down at his baby and gently sweeps her hair out of her eyes. he pays little to no attention to the curse, who had already spread out their domain and is currently sending wave after wave of attacks, all of which gojo repels with a touch. "this is domain expansion," he gently explains to her, smirking at the curse who is obviously offended that he wasn't taking them seriously. "in a second, you're gonna see daddy's domain."

his baby blinks and shuffles around in the strap, whining a bit as she tries to get comfortable. for all she knows, it's too dark and hot and she misses mommy's smell.

before she knows it, the space around her begins to look like the night sky, and she can't see the curse anymore.

"this is my domain," her daddy says, but she misses seeing the sun. why is it nighttime all of the sudden?

"nooo" she whines as she kicks around. where's the ice cream he promised her earlier? and where is mommy? she doesn't want to go to sleep yet!

"not easily impressed, hm?" he laughs, protectively holding his baby's head against his chest as he closes up his domain after finishing off the curse.

"let's go get ice cream, yeah?" he ruffles her hair and holds up her hands, dancing them up in the air with a huge grin. the sunlight hits her face again and a smile quickly reappears. "you did so good today. did you learn a lot about jujutsu fights today? did'ja enjoy our little adventure together?"

"ice cweam" she smiles, doing a few happy kicks. and that's how the tradition of getting ice cream after missions started for the daddy-daughter pair.

#dad!gojo fills an empty spot in my heart #AW HE'S SO PERFECT #and then yaga found out he brings his baby to missions #and yaga quickly scolded gojo #“but my wife needs a girls' day” he just shrugs #he LIVES for these daddy-daughter adventures #when fighting a curse he's just like “my baby's watching so let me show off a bit” #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo scenarios #gojo #dad!gojo

[antiwhores]

Bakugou cums so fast and hard the first time he has sex.

Yall be like: “He lasts long!” “He lets you finish first.”

He would love to! But I imagine he actually didn’t last for shit.

Bakugou had forgotten to use the tricks that everyone had told him.

“Think about something gross so you don’t cum fast!” Not possible, you felt too good for him to think about anything but you.

“Beat off before it happens, the sex’ll last longer.” It happened spontaneously, he had no time.

“Just hold it in through your bladder!” HOW?! Thats the only one he remembered to try and yet it still failed.

He felt so embarrassed when his afterglow wore off. He thought that you wouldn’t wanna have sex with him anymore. He knew better, but he decided that you would go tell all your friends about how easily the great Bakugou Katsuki cums.

He apologizes to you with a scowl on his face (not directed towards you, it was for himself).

“I didn’t mean for it to be that fast. M’sorry.”

He finally meets your eyes when you grab his face, kissing him.

“Katsuki, it’s okay. It’s our first time. I didn’t expect you to last forever. If anything, it’s a compliment. Just means I’m that good.”

Bakugou internally sighs, the panic swaying away from him.

“…Wanna go again?”

#been a while #sorry guys i got sent to the #mental hospital for a lil bit #and then i needed time to #recuperat and shit #maybe one day ill write consecutively #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #bakugou smut

[empresskylo]

You hadn’t expected Simon to get you anything for Valentine’s Day. It just didn’t really seem like his kind of holiday.

So you were rather surprised when he showed up with a bouquet of roses, a little handwritten note tied to them. Cliche, roses, but he knew you liked flowers. And he wasn’t above buying you cliche things. Simon knew he could show his love for you year round, and he always did in his own ways, but he had no problem treating you on February 14th either.

He didn’t just run out to the story and buy whatever random shit they had on the shelves, or snag a insincere hallmark card. He had gone to three different florists before he found the right mix of roses. He handpicked red, pink, and white roses, all arranged with baby’s breath decorating the sides. He thought they were rather pretty and wanted to make sure he got you a set you would actually like. Then he took a piece of paper and wrote you a little note. He drew a little heart at the top where he wrote your name, as wonky as it was. And he found a piece of ribbon, tying the card to the stem of one of the roses. He walked all the way to your apartment, smiling at himself imagining your surprise when he presented the flowers.

When you opened the door to a wide-grinned Simon, you thanked him for the gift, and he said, “Hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh. Simon, that’s okay. We don’t have to do that. I know the restaurants are all going to be packed and I don’t want you to have to—”

“Wasn’t really askin’, love.”

You quirked a brow, your face heating. “I don’t have anything nice to wear,” you said gesturing to your PJs. “I can’t go to some fancy—”

“Who said anythin’ bout fancy?” He winked at you before interlacing your fingers. Simon knew you didn’t do crowds and didn’t like to be fussed over, so of course he wasn’t about to take you out to eat on the busiest night of the year. He raised his other hand and showed you the bag of takeout, ready to curl up on the couch and watch whatever cheesy movie you wanted. And he was going to enjoy every minute of it.

He kissed your forehead before guiding you both inside your apartment, placing the takeout on the coffee table and pulling you into his lap.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley headcanons #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #valentines day

[specshroom]

Demon / imp friend who keeps pretending they can't control their tail ⤵

Pretending to be bashful when it winds its way around your thigh or wraps around your waist.

"Oh! Sorry haha, this damn thing. Like it has a mind of it's own 😅"

You let it slide because you like them, until one day you see them not so discreetly catch a pencil with their tail and manoeuvre it expertly back into the pen holder on the desk it fell from.

You pretend not to notice, your sneaky suspicion now confirmed.

So the next time they're sitting next to you and their slinky tail starts winding around the fat of your thigh, you're so ready for it.

"You're doing it again."

They turn away from what they were pretending to focus on, act all bashful and start apologising,

"Oh shit, I'm sorry."

Before your demonic friend can retreat, you cross your legs, effectively trapping their coiled tail between your warm thighs.

"It's okay, I don't mind."

You say dismissively, as you lightly stroke the arrow shaped point at the end of the tail with your thumbs.

You feel them shiver and look up to see them practically panting, staring down at you with heart shaped eyes and hot cheeks.

⛧𖤍⛧

#Two posts in one day?!?!? Ground breaking. #monster x human #monster lover #monster x reader #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #demon #demon x reader #demon x human

[emmyrosee]

tw // arachnaphobia!!!

-

You’re surprised your shriek of terror doesn’t shatter the windows in your apartment.

The pitch of fear in your voice at the sight of the eight legged monster that sits stagnant on the wall across from you hurts your own ears, and you’re sure your neighbors will hear it, but you don’t care.

Your scream was to rouse Sukuna from his games to deal with the terror. And judging by the pounding of feet down the hall, you’re confident it worked.

“-at whAT WHAT?!” He yells, his head whipping around the room to scan for danger, and when his eyes fall into you, his chest heaves and eyes are blazed with fight or flight. He’s in an oversized shirt and basketball shorts, his headset off one ear and controller dangling in one fist. Not exactly ready to fight, but you find it heroic all the same. “What! Why’d you scream!”

Your eyes curve in fear as you point to the other wall, the spider continuing to sit unbothered as your horrified screams disturb everyone else. His head darts to the other side of the room, and his raised brow come down as ‘fight’ turns into ‘annoyance.’ “Fucking seriously?”

“There’s a spider,” you whimper.

“Yeah, fucking see that,” he snarls. “My question is, did ya have to shatter my eardrums and cost me my game to look at it?”

You pout at him as you curl closer to yourself, and just as he turns to leave, you’re quick to call out for him. “Please kill it!”

“You do it.”

“You know I can’t! Please I’ll let you play in peace, I’ll cuddle you and shut up I swear-“

“Alright, alright,” he groans, walking up to the wall confidently. He makes direct eye contact with you, and if you thought you were going to pass out before, nothing could’ve prepared you for the massive disbelief that grips your heart when Sukuna Ryomen, the man you love, the man you give your soul to-

Uses his bare fucking hand to kill the spider under his palm.

The loud THWAK! silences the apartment air, making it still as your jaw slacks and your breath gets caught in your throat.

“You’re welcome,” he says, looking at the squashed spider in his hand. “Come cuddle once you’re stable again.”

“YOURE LITERALLY NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN!” You wail, backing yourself into a corner as he rolls his eyes and makes his way to the adjacent bathroom.

“Fuckin’ thinking that’s a good thing.”

#headcanon that he did this as a kid to ruin yuujis day too bc he’s a dick #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader fluff #sukuna ryomen x gn!reader #sukuna ryomen imagine #sukuna ryomen jjk #sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader fluff #sukuna x gn!reader #sukuna imagine #sukuna jjk #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x gn!reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk x yn #arachnophobia tw #tw spiders #tw spider #spider tw #spiders tw #tw arachnophobia

[yueebby]

onsen incident  — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo satoru gets everything he wants and right now he really wants to go to an onsen with you.

contents. fluff, lovesick!gojo, he's just a cute loser, highschool!gojo (first year), he needs to be locked up asap

notes. this is part ii to indulge me? and a piece in the series, but can be read alone.

you’re not sure how you ended up here. one moment you were exorcizing a grade one curse that rampaged a small town with gojo and now you find yourself back at the ryokan you had stayed at the prior night. except this time around you have an overly excited gojo, still at a high from the successful mission.

“suguru mentioned how nice the onsens here were,” he brings up innocently, his lips curving into a sly grin. you spare him a side glance. 

“we should be heading back to the airport to return to tokyo,” you asserted, eyes trained on the entrance of the onsen— a wooden paneled door leading to the private hot spring that came with the room you and gojo had unknowingly reserved. 

gojo stretched leisurely, his body arched like a cat as he yawns, “i don’t know about you but i’m beat! that curse wore out all my energy and a quick dip in an onsen is just what this body needs.” he opens one eye, gauging your reaction.

you don’t buy his act. “you exorcised the curse instantaneously, gojo.”

but gojo doesn’t back down easily, “yeah, well that took up a lot of cursed energy and now i’m drained,” he reasons. the white haired male solidifies his argument by collapsing on you just to show how fatigued he was. his dramatic show nearly sends you tumbling.

annoyance simmered in you, arms folding over your chest. the flight back to tokyo was in a couple of hours, and you had hoped to be able to go sightseeing. 

but gojo’s sky-blue eyes plead silently as they look up at you, unblinking. his pink lips start to quiver. it was hard to deny him when he was basically begging. as comical as his dramatics were, you could almost argue how hard it was to resist his unwavering gaze. plus, he was the one that completed the mission singlehandedly.  

“fine.” you yielded. “thirty minutes and then we leave.”

he perks up happily.

“great! let’s go!” without wasting a moment, he seizes your hand and practically skips to the entrance. 

you recoiled, nearly shrieking, “you pervert! i’m not going in there with you! i’m going to go sightseeing.” 

gojo looks at you like you’ve sprouted two heads.

“... then what’s the point of the onsen?” he looked at you incredulously. it deeply troubled you that someone so conniving could look so innocent.

your response is caught in your throat, leaving you flustered and unable to make eye contact. arms remained crossed, you mutter, “you’re insane if you think i’m stepping foot in an onsen with you.”

gojo’s tongue prodded at his cheek, lost in thought, “they do say you have to be insane to be a jujutsu sorcerer." he looks at you all enthused, "don’t be shy now, we’ve already slept together after all.” there’s a teasing lilt in his voice.

“we slept in the same bed– not together! don’t you go spreading that around now,” you jump to cup a hand over his mouth. you feel him grin underneath the palm of your hand.

“same thwing,” gojo’s voice is muffled, but he doesn’t bother taking your soft hand off his face. 

“it is not,” you furrow your eyebrows. 

“it can be.” he wiggles his eyebrows, a boyish smile growing.

you remove your hand from his face, “have you no shame?” 

“not a shred,” he declares cheerfully. “come on, we’re wasting precious time standing here. i can feel the steaming water calling our names.” 

“i’ve told you already, gojo. i’m not going to a hot spring naked with you.” 

he waves his hand dismissively, “you don’t have to be naked, it’s not unheard of for people to go in with a towel.”

you sigh exasperatedly at his stubborn disposition, “it would still be highly inappropriate.”

“as inappropriate as cuddling with your classmate while he’s naked and unconscious?” he raises an eyebrow suggestively. gojo was once again referring to the previous night’s moment of vulnerability.

you stiffen. 

“it was not like that and you know it. for all i know, you were the one cuddling me,” you retorted, crossing your arms with a huff.

 gojo raises his hands in defense, “how about we call it even and hop in the hot spring together as a compromise?”

“that doesn’t make any sense.”

“it makes perfect sense. just two classmates relieving the weight of the world off their shoulders.” 

you hate that he’s starting to convince you. 

the knowing smile creeping on gojo’s face signals that he’s sensed your weakening resolve. he decides to deal the finishing blow.

“this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. with busy lives like ours, who knows the next time we will be able to visit one of the world’s best hot springs?” he gestures dramatically. reluctantly, you start to give into his words.

“fine. but if i see you indecent, i will kill you.” you point a finger threateningly at gojo. 

he simply chuckles, “kinky.”

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

gojosatowu attachment: 1 image

shoko.ieiri what the actual hell gojo.  i did not need to see a picture of you with nothing but a towel on. ts is disgusting.

getosugu where is [name]? i thought you guys were returning from your mission today.

gojosatowu heh the two of us are going to take a little dip in kyushu’s world famous onsens haha :3

shoko.ieiri WHAT

getosugu  you?? [name]?? onsen?? together?? gojo satoru explain hello?

shoko.ieiri where is [name] you dirty pervert  i swear i’ll murder you if you pull any dirty tricks answer now

gojosatowu gotta go! ive been dreaming of this day ><

shoko.ieiri  don’t you go ignoring us!!

you’re already settled in the hot spring by the time gojo arrives. with a snug towel secured tightly around your body, you are submerged underwater from the chest down. the steam curls lazily into the air, casting a dreamlike haze around you.

“for someone that was excited about the onsen, you came awfully late,” you quipped at the snow-haired boy. his signature glasses are absent, allowing you complete access to his azure eyes. on the other hand, gojo is granted the opportunity of seeing you in all of your natural beauty.

gojo enters the steaming water just a couple of feet away from you, “had to calm myself before seeing you.” he sighs contentedly when the water envelopes him. it was true. his nerves were a lot calmer when he was fighting the grade one curse than the short walk from the changing room to the hot spring.

you can't help but roll your eyes at his obvious flirtation attempt, but you decide to let it slide.

the conversation lapses into silence, an awkward veil settling between you. you were starting to regret ever entertaining gojo’s invitation to the onsen. to escape the discomfort, you divert your gaze to the steam rising from the water's surface and the surrounding rocks. the trees around you start to look interesting as you focus on not letting you eyes stray on gojo’s solid buil—

breaking the silence, gojo interjects, "did ya think i looked cool taking down that curse?"

your eyes shift from the rocks to gojo’s face, “it was quite impressive how you were able to crush the curse with your infinity.” you have heard of stories of gojo’s strength, but seeing it with your very own eyes was truly incredible.

he preens under your praise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"perhaps i deserve a reward," he suggests, his voice taking on a playful tone.

you entertain the idea, your curiosity piqued. "i suppose you do."

a deeper flush tinges gojo's cheeks, and he averts his gaze. without warning, he points at his cheek, anticipating something. you tilt your head, puzzled by his unspoken request. he keeps pointing to his cheek, poking it multiple times.

“…”

“give me a kiss!”

the water ripples with how fast you lean back, “huh? no way.”

undeterred, gojo shakes his head. "fine then. i guess i'll have to kiss you.”

your eyes widen as he leans closer, and you instinctively scoot away, surprised by his boldness. "what? no!"

“eh?! why not? i went total snowagumon on that curse!”

“that’s your job gojo,” you respond matter-of-factly. you’re a bit taken aback by his digimon reference. how dorky.

gojo clicks his tongue, feigning indignation as he looks away. “hmph. can’t even get appreciation for keeping the world in balance.” 

you let out a resigned sigh, realizing he's being dramatic again. it almost feels like dealing with a child. but you suppose you’ll play right into his hands this time– and this time only. he has worked hard on this mission, taking on all the work while you watch idly from the sidelines.

hesitantly, you inch closer towards his frame. the distance closes as you lean towards his face. it was only a split second, but your lips placed a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

you watch what once was a pink blush blossomed into something deeper. gojo sits up a little straighter and you notice how the corner of his lips are slightly upward.

“gojo, are you oka–” 

“satoru. call me satoru,” he interjected, sounding breathless, his eyes locking on yours. 

you look at him, uncertain. “isn’t that a bit too informal? we’ve only known each other for a couple of months.”

“if it was up to me, we’d be married by now,” satoru closes his eyes nonchalantly, sinking deeply into the water until half of his face is under. he blows a series of bubbles. he really was a child.

your laughter rings out melodiously as you throw your head back, finding his remark utterly amusing.  “you’re actually ridiculous.” 

satoru watches you with a soft smile, his heart feeling lighter. it was criminal how cute you were. if this was his reward for exorcizing a measly grade one curse, he was willing to wipe out all special grades on the earth just to receive your praise again. maybe next time you'll even kiss him on the lips (he'll die a happy man if that happens).

"i am, aren't i?" he muses, basking in the joy of the moment.

extra notes. i lowk hate this but due to popular demand i had to write it. ps i dont even know anything abt digimon i js know gojo likes it gn (forgive me if my digimon reference was totally wrong)

#kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #gojo then goes to ask you if he was a good cuddler #you dont answer the question and he's pouty all the way back to tokyo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojou x reader #remember spring days!au

[arvandus]

Gojo had never intended to make you cry.  Sure, he teased you.  Maybe a little bit too much.  But he never wanted to actually hurt you.  He was a cocky ass, but he wasn’t an asshole.

That’s what he wanted to tell himself anyway, even as your wide eyes brimmed with tears that clung to your lashes.  It felt like a punch to the gut when the first tear fell.

Without even thinking, his hand came up to gently cup your cheek.  “Don’t...” he whispered.  His thumb swiped away at the wet track.  “Don’t cry.”

But it was too late; more tears fell, leaving wet lines in their wake, the droplets clinging to your chin. He hated the sight of them; hated the way they documented his failure, a sentence of guilt written in watercolor against skin he’d admired with every sideways glance.

He wanted to make them disappear, to extinguish them and replace them with warmth.  To take your trembling lips and make them smile again.  Gojo cradled your face in both of his hands, his large, calloused thumbs wiping away at your tears.  You closed your eyes, caught up in the way your heart twisted in your chest at the warmth of his touch.

You felt his forehead touch yours, his soft hair cushioned between you.  “I’m sorry...” he whispered. “I didn’t mean...”

Gojo’s words died on his lips as he felt more fresh, hot tears catch on his thumbs, heard you sniffle and try to hide the soft sob that wanted to unfurl from within your chest. 

His air left his lungs, a slow panic building at the possibility that maybe, this time, a sorry wouldn’t be enough. That maybe, this time, there was no such thing as forgiveness, and that he’d never again get to see you smile at him.

“I’m sorry...” he repeated, as his lips pressed gently against your forehead.  You froze beneath his affection, stunned.

He didn’t stop there.  His lips traveled lower, brushing against your wet lashes, against your cheeks, each time echoing his apology in earnest supplication.  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Finally, he came to your still-trembling lips, the soft flesh wet where you’d licked with your tongue, although whether it was in anticipation of his lips or to taste your own tears, he wasn’t sure.  Gojo hesitated, for just the slightest fraction of a moment, waiting...

And then you gave it to him, the sign he was looking for. The ever so subtle tilt of your chin, the flutter of lashes as you peaked at him through the dew drops in hope.

His lips met yours, soft and gentle, your face still gently cupped in his hands. You finally responded, returning the kiss with your hands wrapping around his neck, your fingers curling into his hair at the nape of his neck.

Gojo pulled away just enough to be able to speak, his lips barely brushing yours.  Your eyes were open now, staring into his, and for a moment the universe consisted of just the two of you, two celestial bodies drawn together by the gravity of your hearts.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven...?” he whispered.

“No.” you replied with a grin.

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo oneshot #gojo fluff #gojo kiss #y'all I needed to get this out of my system #this scene has been plaguing my brain for the past three days

[ellemj]

Inevitable: 12 Days of Smut #9

Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot

Summary: While on a mission with Sam, John Walker, and Bucky, you're the only person exposed to a sex pollen. Bucky sure as hell isn't going to let anyone else take care of you.

Warnings: profanity, dubcon (sex pollen), unprotected sex, slight size kink, slight exhibitionism, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: I wrote this fic in an hour and I think it shows lmao. Hopefully tomorrow I can use another one of @mashedpotatooooos inspiring requests, because she sent me one I've been thinking about for days now.

            You want someone to blame. You want someone to yell at, someone that you can rightfully take all of your anger out on. You want to be able to point your finger and stomp your feet like a child all because this is someone else’s fault. Who do you take your anger out on when an entire organization is to blame? No one. Instead, you do exactly what you’re doing now, which is sitting on the dirty floor with your knees pulled up to your chest as you try to come up with a plan. You’re the only one that was exposed, the only one that’s about to go through physiological and psychological hell. Sam and John Walker were still securing the perimeter of the compound when you stupidly ran your fingertip along the fine powdery substance that was sprinkled along the walls and floor of the small holding cell. It was even more stupid of you to rub the powder together between your thumb and forefinger before sniffing it for any trace of a scent. As soon as you inhaled the microscopic particles, you let out a cough, your throat immediately feeling scratchy. Bucky was behind you in an instant, grabbing you by the elbow and tugging you away from the holding cell. When his eyes fell to your hand and he saw the white powder along your fingertips, he knew you’d gotten yourself into some serious shit. Before he even had a chance to alert Sam and Walker via comms, you were placing your clean hand on his chest and shoving him away from you hard. He stumbled backward two steps, but kept his eyes trained on your face. Your cheeks were pink, which he assumed was from the small coughing fit you’d just had, but having no idea what you were exposed to, it could’ve been from whatever drug it was that HYDRA left all over the surface of that holding cell. How could you have been so reckless?

            You sit with your head resting on your knees and your eyes squeezed shut, trying to drown out the incessant voice of John Walker. He’s been going on and on for over a minute now about what he thinks is the best way to handle the little predicament you’ve found yourselves in.

            “We don’t even know what she was exposed to, Sam. You and Bucky should stay here and finish the mission, I’ll take her back to the quinjet and see if we can figure this out. There has to be some sort of testing equipment or something there.” Of course, Walker wants to leave with you. Bucky catches himself clenching his right fist, while his left hand rests dangerously close to where his knife is sheathed along the side of his tactical pants. Bucky isn’t letting Walker do shit with you.

            “I’m not going anywhere.” You say defiantly, finally picking your head up and looking at the three men who are maintaining their distance from you. You threatened to lock yourself in the contaminated holding cell if they didn’t stay at least ten feet away from you, so that’s about how far they all are from you now. “He’s right, we don’t know what I was exposed to, but I’m not leaving this building until we find out what it was.” It’s the smartest thing you can do. For all you know, it could be some sort of biological warfare shit and you’re not about to go down in history as patient X. You’re staying put.

---

            It’s less than fifteen minutes later when the symptoms have begun to set in and you’re actually considering locking yourself in the holding cell. It started out almost unnoticeable, with your heart rate steadily increasing and your body temperature rising to an uncomfortable degree. You chalked it up to being nervous about whatever unknown substance might be coursing through your veins. Soon after, all you wanted was to take your clothes off and soak in an ice bath. This was partially because of the sheer heat your body was radiating from the inside out, but also because you felt some kind of surge of adrenaline making you feel like you could run fifteen miles with ease.

            “She isn’t herself, she’s definitely feeling something but she’s not going to let any of us get close enough to look her over.” Sam says to Bruce, who’s currently seated in a SHIELD laboratory, searching through various HYDRA experiment files to figure out what substance you might’ve been exposed to.

            “Well, one of you is going to have to try, because without knowing the basics of at least a physical exam, I can’t rule any of these compounds out. It’s a guessing game without more information.”

            “I’ll do it. She’ll let me.” Walker’s confidence nearly makes Bucky and Sam both burst out laughing.

            “Who the hell do you think you are, man? She isn’t going to let you do shit.” Sam chuckles, looking at Walker out of the corner of his eye. Walker scoffs and shakes his head, clearly disagreeing with Sam.

            “C’mon, she can be reasonable.” Walker argues. Of course you can be reasonable, you’re almost always reasonable. But this more than likely isn’t one of the almost-always instances, and if Walker really thinks Bucky is going to let him do any sort of physical exam on you, he’s sorely mistaken.

            “I’ll do it. I was right behind her when she was exposed, she knows it’s possible I was exposed too. More possible than either of you having been exposed.” Bucky points out, shooting Walker a death glare before he has a moment to argue. Walker quickly shuts his mouth and remains still in the corridor. The three men stepped out of the small abandoned surveillance room when you started acting like every word they were saying was making your head hurt. Now, Bucky turns around and faces the door, ready to approach you.

            “Just look her skin over everywhere you can, look for any rashes, discolorations, new wounds. Try to get a look at her pupils too, I need to know if they’re bigger than usual or smaller, like pinpoints. Anything you notice that’s out of the ordinary, I need to know about it so I can narrow down the type of chemical it might be.” Bruce’s words echo in the concrete corridor as Bucky palms the door handle and pulls it open with a soft creak.

            As soon as the door shuts behind Bucky, your eyes meet. He can see how uncomfortable you are, how a few stray strands of your hair are sticking to your forehead, how you’re breathing heavier than normal even though you still sit on the floor. It tugs at something within him and suddenly he wishes he was the one who’d walked into that damn holding cell first. Why the hell did he let you go in first? He should’ve been looking out for you.

            “Bruce needs a few questions answered so he can figure out what you were exposed to.” Bucky tries to keep his sentence short and to the point. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you and give you a reason to kick him out, so he’s treading carefully. He’s honestly surprised that you haven’t told him to leave yet. As his eyes roam over your small frame, he can see that you’re miserable. At this point, you’re too miserable to argue with him. You simply nod, agreeing to whatever it is that Bruce wants him to do. Bucky tilts his head over to an empty metal desk pushed up against a side wall, and you quickly understand that he wants you to sit on it so he can get a look at you. You push yourself up off of the floor slowly, knowing you won’t be very steady on your feet. Not only are you beginning to feel lightheaded, but it feels like every nerve ending in your entire body is on fire. Your skin is simultaneously freezing cold while being burning hot, and there’s a sharp, stinging pain somewhere deep in your stomach.

            Noticing how unsteady you are, Bucky moves across the room wraps an arm around you, guiding you over to the desk. After helping you sit on top of it, he can’t stop himself from pushing those few stray hairs away from your face and cupping your chin with his right hand. You feel hot to the touch, definitely feverish. Your eyes flutter closed as you focus on the feel of his skin against your chin, but Bucky believes it to be a reaction to whatever pain you’re feeling right now. He notes that your pupils looked much bigger than normal before you closed your eyes. He also notes that your cheeks are flushed, your heart is beating so hard that he can nearly count your pulse rate where the skin lies over your carotid artery in your neck, and you’re keeping one hand on your lower stomach.

            “Do you have any spots, anything on your skin?” Bucky’s voice is quiet, but he keeps his hand underneath your chin. It almost feels like you’re leaning into his touch, though he can’t be sure. You finally open your eyes again and look up at him. You’re ready to say something like I don’t fucking know, I’m in full tactical gear, but speaking a sentence that long feels like way too much effort right now. So, instead, you pull your shirt off and drop it on the floor. Bucky averts his gaze instantly, not wanting to be intrusive and look at you with only a bra covering your top half.

            “You have to check, Bucky. The lights are killing me.” Your words come out as a meek whisper. Of course the lights are killing you, your pupils are so blown that they’re letting in every tiny bit of light. When the super soldier finally looks back down at you, his jaw clenches as his eyes coast over your bare neck, shoulders, and the central part of your chest. He doesn’t see a single imperfection. He looks further down your torso, past your black sports bra, over the contours of your waist and abdomen. Nothing. Nothing but smooth, perfect skin, slightly glistening with a sheen of sweat. “I think I know what this is.”

            “How?” Bucky’s eyes lift to meet your gaze once again, but this time, you look more conflicted than uncomfortable.

            “Touch me.” Bucky has a million questions. He wants to know what you think this is, why you want him to touch you. He’s ready to ask every question that’s swirling around his head, and you can see that he sure as hell isn’t about to touch you on his own accord, so you take matters into your own hands. It’s the quickest way you can think of to prove that your assumption is correct. You reach out and take his flesh hand in yours, guiding it up to your face and pressing his palm flat against your cheek. A soft whimper leaves your lips as soon as you feel the warmth from his contact. Bucky stiffens, but doesn’t pull his hand away from you.

            “What is it?” He demands to know.

            “HYDRA was experimenting with ways to produce more super soldiers without needing great amounts of the original serum. They thought they could get super soldiers to breed, to produce offspring with all of the same strengths and abilities.” It takes a few seconds for Bucky’s mind to wrap around exactly what you’re saying, but as soon as it does, he’s already made a choice. He’ll help you. He’ll do it. He’ll do what he knows needs to be done to give you as much relief as he possibly can. There isn’t another word spoken between the two of you as Bucky steps away from you and crosses the room, turning the lock on the door.

            Out in the corridor, Sam and Walker hear the door lock and look at each other with a mix of confusion and concern.

            “One of them just locked the door.” Sam says to Bruce. Bruce sighs heavily before taking a long pause. “Bruce, what the hell is this?”

            “You’re in a facility where HYDRA scientists would induce super soldier reproduction. I’m guessing Y/n and Bucky have figured that out.”

---

            The desk won’t hold the weight of you both, Bucky’s damn sure of that. Which is why he has you lying on your back with your legs dangling off of it as he stands between your legs and unbuckles his tactical pants.

            “You don’t have to do this, Bucky. I could—”

            “You said it’s the only way, and I’m sure as hell not letting Sam or Walker do it, so I’m doing it.” Bucky snaps, shoving his pants down enough to free his already hardening cock. He’s lucky you’re in such a miserable state right now, otherwise you might’ve sat up and tried to sneak a peek at his dick and noticed how it already stood erect for you. He wasn’t getting off on you being in such a bad situation, but as soon as you told him that you needed someone to do this for you, his cock decided it was going to him. He wraps his fist around the base and strokes forward, toward the tip a couple of times as he watches you shimmy your own pants down your legs. You have them nearly down to your knees when you let out a cry of pain, quickly letting go of the pants and clutching at your stomach. Your eyes are still screwed shut as Bucky finishes pulling your pants down to your ankles and then gets you into the only position he can think of in this moment. He lifts both of your legs up, keeping them together, and rests them over his right shoulder. He’s careful not to even give himself the chance to look between your legs. He won’t do it, not like this. He stares down at your scrunched up face as he moves closer to you and lets the head of his cock slide up and down between your folds, gathering your wetness along his shaft.

            “Bucky, please.” You moan out, your back arching off of the desk and eyes opening to look up at him. When the two of you make eye contact, the head of his cock notches into your entrance and he pumps into you slowly. “Fuck, it’s so big.”

            Fucking hell. Why did you have to say something like that? Bucky stills when he’s only halfway inside you, feeling how tight you are compared to how thick his length is. He knows it must be hurting you, but you continue to stare up at him, with both pain and pleasure flashing in your eyes.

            “Don’t stop, I can take it.” You promise. Bucky’s hands grip your hips and he gives you another inch, watching how your face contorts at the way he’s stretching your entrance.

            “Stop saying shit like that.” He warns you through gritted teeth. That’s the moment you realize Bucky might have a bit of a size kink. It’s not at all where your head should be at right now. You should be focused on finding relief and getting this chemical out of your system as fast as possible. But, something within you tells you to keep going.

            “But it’s so fucking big.” You moan again, trying to relax as he pushes the rest of his length inside of you. The needy sound that rips through your chest when he bottoms out inside of you echoes in the empty room, and Bucky has no doubt that Sam and Walker both heard it. A dark idea enters his mind as he slowly drags his cock back out of you. John fucking Walker. He’s been after you since day one, that little prick. This could be Bucky’s only chance to show him that he’ll never have you, especially not like this. Like you would possibly give Walker a chance after being fucked by Bucky. Instead of thrusting into you slowly this time, giving you ample time to adjust, Bucky slams into you hard. “Fuck! Bucky, it’s too big, oh my god.” You cry out.

            Sam and Walker are frozen in shock as they stand in the corridor, listening to the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and you moaning about how big Bucky’s cock is as you take every inch of it. As soon as Bucky let out his first grunt, Sam couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed Walker by the front of his shirt and dragged him out of the building.

            “This is fucking bullshit, Sam. This is so unprofessional.” Walker whines, wanting nothing more than to storm back in and rip Bucky off of you.

            “Shut the hell up, John. We know you think you’re hot shit, but honestly, she was never going to give you a chance. It was always going to happen this way.”

            “What do you mean? You knew this was going to happen?” Walker asks, unable to hide the anger edging his tone.

            “I didn’t know it’d be in an abandoned HYDRA lab or within my own earshot, but yeah, everyone knew they were going to fuck eventually.”

            Not only did the two of you fuck, but Bucky made sure to spill every drop of his cum so deep inside of you that it’d be dripping out into your tactical pants for the rest of the mission.

TAG LIST:

@mrsjoequinn @nixxaswrld @sweettae02 @frombkjar @hellfirebabe @edelweissbarnes @fandomsfeminismandme  @missadored @buchi91 @phoenixstark1708 @mayamacall @sunnyhummingbee @gyokujyn @jenniferpendragon @thealloveru2 @siciliano13 @ordelixx @crist1216 @twlkdead @claireelizabeth85 @charmedbysarge @wishingforwonderland @blackhawkfanatic

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #mcu #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier #12 days of smut

[florencemtrash]

He Feels Safe With You — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel's sleeping habits begin to worry you, but after a conversation with Cassian, you realize you've misinterpreted the entire situation.

Warnings: Major fluff. Like tooth-rotting sweetness. Sleepy Az.

Author's note: I should be sleeping because I have work tomorrow but instead I've chosen to write this oneshot and I have no regrets.

It was starting to become a problem now. 

You cocked your head to the side, cradling a cup of tea in your hands and watching Azriel as he continued to sleep soundly in your bed. You had the windows cracked open and the early Autumn breeze swirled indoors with the scent of lavender, bergamot, and the strawberry jam you’d slathered over your toast. You checked the time once again on the glossy marble clock face. The arrow-shaped hour hand clicked ever closer to 11am, the minute hand close to overtaking its competitor. 

10:55am and Azriel was still asleep. 

The sheets clustered loose and low around his waist, mimicking the curling of his shadows up and down the ridges of his spine and across the delicate membrane of his wings. His wings hung loose and relaxed, stretching off the edges of your bed and caressing the floor with a lover’s touch. You blushed at the sight. When you and Azriel had first started courting each other three years ago, you’d thought through the mechanics of housing an Illyrian warrior in your bed — should you buy a new bed frame and mattress? Did you even have space for it in your apartment? The answer had been no to both, and yet Azriel loved when your daytime activities ended here instead of at the townhouse. If he cared about having to walk sideways to avoid the bookshelves in the halls or having to crouch to avoid the overhang above the staircase, he didn’t mention it. 

Three hours ago you’d woken up beneath the gentle weight of his wings, untangled yourself from Azriel’s greedy limbs, and crept down the stairs to your kitchen, bleary eyed but well rested. But that was three hours ago! Since then you’d brushed your teeth, washed your face, and eaten breakfast, and still the Shadowsinger hadn’t stirred. You were beginning to question whether he truly was the Spymaster of the Night Court as you sat in your velvet chair and admired your lover. You traced all the subtle movements of his body as he muddled through dreams you could only wonder at — the creasing of his brow, the slack line of his lips as he breathed, the twitching of his fingertips as he reached for some phantom object. 

The clock struck eleven and you sighed, gathering your plates but leaving Azriel’s pile of toast, butter, and honey alone. You also left the teapot and its mismatched cup, blowing magic over its lid in a silent command to keep its contents hot until Azriel awoke. 

“I’ll be down in the shop,” you whispered to his shadows, trusting that they would relay the message when their master finally decided to grace the daytime with his presence. 

One by one, shadows slipped off Azriel’s skin, curling around your ankles and wrists in a silent plea to stay. You shook them off like one might a needy child, promising you’d only be two floors down. 

The artists’ corner in Velaris was an eclectic array of compact townhouses, each outwardly dressed in their unique, dazzling finery. Your townhouse was squished between a painting studio and a luthier’s. The painting studio’s owner seemed intent on changing the color of the wooden sidings every other day and the drawings scribbled over the windows every other week. Today it was periwinkle blue to match the hydrangeas overflowing from the window boxes. 

You nodded in approval as you flipped the apothecary sign over from “Much apologies, please try another time” to “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” The blue would match your tulip yellow sidings and the clean white accents of the luthier’s. Last week it had been red and that had looked gods-awful. 

You busied yourself in the shop, crushing up lavender and herbs and boiling mugwort in fire-stained glassware in between flurries of customers until the medicinal stench in the air grew thick and strong. You were used to it by now. It smelled clean. Like home. 

You were finishing tying up a bundle of teabags when Cassian came in carrying a sturdy wooden box under one arm like it weighed five pounds instead of fifty. You snapped out the wrinkles of a cloth bag, dropping the teabags and five vials of sleep serum for the nightingale-winged nymph in front of you. 

“Four feathers and three strands of hair, as we bargained for,” you said, sliding the bag across the counter. 

The nymph nodded in approval, extending out a wing and shoving her fingers into the pillowy softness. She tested for loose feathers ready to pull.

“You’re a godsend, Y/n, has anyone ever told you that?” She pulled out three feathers, closed her wing, and started testing the feathers on the other side. “Finnigan’s was asking me for ten. Ten! Can you believe that? If I hadn’t found you in time I’d have been reduced to a plucked chicken.” She was much less precious about her mousey brown hair and yanked out three strands at random. “Oops, you get an extra strand today,” she sang, dropping the feathers and hair into the jars you held out. 

“Well it’s a good thing you found me then, Moricka.” 

“Honestly! I understand he’s got a large studio space he’s renting in the thick of the Palace, and even I will admit the ambiance is rather professional—” 

Cassian raised his brow, a smirk tugging at the corners of his scarred lips as he continued to stand motionless in the doorway. It was true your space was more… homey than Finnigan’s, but your expertise shined in intimate spaces. You liked the control and the familiarity that came from running a smaller business and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. 

“But I do think the success is getting to his head. You both studied under Lady Madja so I don’t see why—” 

You nodded absentmindedly. It was always like this with Moricka. The songbird in her made it difficult for her to stop talking, but at least her voice was pleasant. 

She threw her hands up in the air before finally catching wind of another presence in the room. Cassian waved at her with a wink and an orange blush creeped onto her full cheeks. He tended to have that effect on fae with his towering size and the wild beauty of his chiseled jaw and smattering of scars over his cheeks and brow. 

“Oh… oh dear, I didn’t realize you had another customer. Oh my goodness I’ve been talking your ear off all this time and you’ve been too kind to say anything. You’re a godsend, Y/n. A godsend! I don’t know what I would do without you, although I should really be letting you go now.” She grabbed her things and sidestepped the range of Cassian’s wings, trying and failing now to gawk. “I’ll see you soon enough again I’m sure.” 

“I’ll be here.” You sighed in relief when the doorbell rang behind her petite frame, the inoffensive smile you offered all your customers sliding off your face like oil on water. Cassian chuckled, dropping the box onto the countertop with a dull thud. 

“Long day?” 

You pulled out a stepstool and began rummaging around through the box, pulling out jars of squid ink, bark trimmings, buttons, and one particularly nasty jar containing a large eye suspended in yellow goo. “It’s not even three.” 

“Did I stutter?”

You tapped the glass and the eye swiveled around to look at you, pupil enlarging and constricting with a stutter. “Yes, yes very good,” you muttered your praise and Cassian fought hard not to shiver. He had a stomach for a great many things, but some of the specimens you handled tested his resilience.

“Thank you for bringing all of this. You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble.” 

“Perhaps you could do the same for me and tell me where my brother is? I’ve been looking for him all day.” Cassian leaned forward on the counter, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Are you holding him hostage, Y/n? Are you using your feminine powers to bring the poor male to his knees? I must admit, I didn’t imagine you as the kind capable of kidnapping. Or shadow-napping, shall we say?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m hardly holding him hostage.” You gestured down the hallway past the bookshelves and the cases of empty glassware where the light from the staircase glowed like an iron eye. “He’s upstairs sleeping.” 

Cassian furrowed his brows, stepping around and past you. He kept his wings tucked closer to his shoulder blades, careful not to upset the cramped organization you maintained in your shop. 

He smirked. “Still? Are you sure you didn't work your feminine powers last night?” 

You glanced out the store window. A few fae lingered outside the coffee shop across the street clutching takeaway boxes against their chest as they chatted and sipped their drinks. The street was otherwise empty. For now, you wouldn’t have to deal with any customers. 

You looked back at Cassian. “I actually wanted to ask you about that.”

His brows furrowed. “About feminine powers?” He'd meant that as a joke.

“Gods, Cassian let that go.” You wrung your hands. “I wanted to ask if Azriel was alright? Has he seemed… normal to you?”

“I don’t know, has he?” Cassian lowered his voice, sinking into one of the stools by the clear glass medicine cabinet. “From what I can tell he seems well. Happy.” 

Although happy was an understatement. Ever since you’d stumbled into their lives with Madja’s accolades and your wry humor, Azriel had been a goner. You’d pulled emotions from him as deftly as a spinster with a pile of wool, reduced him to a reverential, lovesick mess, and imbued his existence with a color not even Feyre could mix up. Which made it all the more confusing why you looked so nervous.

“You’ve seen more of him than I have, Y/n.” Cassian said. He braced his elbows against his knees, turning serious. The faint bags under his hazel eyes hinted at sleepless nights spent fussing over Neera. It was their fault really, any daughter of Nesta and Cassian was destined to be restless and particular.

“He just… he’s been sleeping more. Falling into bed early, but waking up late. Sometimes we’ll be reading together or just existing side by side and when I turn to face him, he’s dead asleep on the couch.” 

Cassian’s lips twitched, slowly stretching into a smile. You plucked a hemp bag off one of the wall shelves at random, tossing its contents into a mortar and beginning to grind just so you could have something to do with your hands. 

“At first I brushed it off, but it’s gotten to a point where I’ll be talking to him — mindless things, but regardless — and I’ll catch him dozing off. He’s always very apologetic after but I…” The mortar and pestle clattered to a stop. “I worry that he’s growing bored of me. Or that he’s sick in a way I can’t help.” 

“Y/n.” There was a smile in Cassian’s voice, and indeed when you looked at him, his teeth were glistening in the soft afternoon haze. His eyes shined knowingly, as if the answer were obvious.

You paused. “Yes?”

“He feels safe with you.” 

You blinked once. Twice. 

“Pardon?” 

Cassian tipped back in his seat, knocking his head against the cabinet with a rattle of jars and glass as he laughed. “He’s sleeping so much because he feels safe with you. It’s probably why he prefers to spend time here instead of at the townhouse and why he’s still dead asleep while we’re sitting here gossiping about him. Three years ago you couldn’t even whisper his name in a crowded room without him appearing from the shadows as if summoned.” 

You felt heat rise in your cheeks. “Oh... I see.” 

Cassian was grinning. “Y/n, I promise you he’s not bored of you. Azriel sleeping is a good thing. The gods know he could use more rest. I think he might be the worst of us when it comes to taking care of ourselves.” 

Something about Cassian’s words had a crack splintering in your chest. You knew about his past. You knew of the horrors burned into the ruined skin of his hands and the weight his duties deposited on his shoulders.

And here you’d been worried over him sleeping past noon. 

Shadows slipped down the stairs, pooling around your feet in a neat circle and kissing the exposed skin of your ankles. Azriel followed closely behind, still wearing his rumpled hair and pants and a shirt he’d hastily shoved his neck and arms into. He hadn’t even buttoned up the slits below his wings, opting to let the fabric swing free and loose and expose flashes of skin as he walked. 

He jutted his chin out in acknowledgement of Cassian and then folded himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and dropping his face into the crook of your neck where he breathed in the scent of lemon and lavender and medicine. 

“You weren’t there when I woke up,” he said, frowning. There was a slur to his words.

“It’s past three, brother.” 

Azriel snapped his head up in surprise, squinting at the window and the afternoon sunlight streaking in. The pale cobblestones shone like they’d been drenched in honey. 

“What?” 

Cassian rolled his eyes, patting Azriel’s back fondly and mussing up your hair before walking towards the door. He flipped the sign from “You’ve caught us! We’re open!” to “Much apologies, please try another time.” 

“Goodnight, you two!" He called from over his back. "Remember we’re meeting at Rhys’s for dinner tonight.” He turned, bracing his arms against the top of the doorway and leaning forward like he meant to share a secret. “8pm sharp. Don’t be too late or we’ll get the wrong idea about what you two are up to.” He winked, then whistled down the street, letting the door close on its own behind him. 

Azriel sighed, going back to nuzzling his face in your neck. He peppered the sensitive skin there with kisses. 

“Will you be coming back upstairs then?” He murmured hopefully. "Now that you're finished with work?"

You bit your lip and decided rather quickly that the world would not end because you closed a few hours early. 

You led him up the stairs, past the kitchen and living room on the second floor, and then up to the third floor — your bedroom. The window was still open, the hustle and bustle of the city and the smell of coffee from across the street wafting in. Steam no longer poured from the lip of the teapot, so you knew Azriel had had something to drink, and where you’d left toast on his plate this morning lay only crumbs. 

Azriel dropped to his knees, untying your laces and helping you out of your boots. Then he straightened and tugged at the belt loops of your trousers, silently asking for permission before unbuttoning them and sliding them off your legs. Your shirt, then his shirt, and then his trousers joined the pile of crumpled clothing on the floor.

He gently pushed you back onto the bed, falling face first after you with a sigh. This was his favorite position to sleep in — you comfortable on your back and him laying with his hips slotted in between your legs and his head resting over your heart. 

You sank your fingers into his velvety, black hair. His hums of satisfaction flowed through your body, lighting every nerve with a comforting buzz. 

“Azriel?” You asked him, before sleep could finally claim him once more. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Do you feel safe with me?” 

He pressed his face further into the soft flesh of your chest, bringing his arms up and around your waist before allowing his wings to do the same. The thin membranes glowed red as hot coals, blocking out the most offensive rays of light from outside. 

“When I am with you, I forget that I was ever that boy whose hands got burned. When I am with you, the hundreds of years I spent feeling alone and worthless in this world melt away into nothing. When I am with you — when I am in this place that smells and feels so strongly of you — I can imagine a future that is good and pure and perfect.” He sighed deeply, seemingly ignorant to the pounding of your heart and the waves of feeling flooding your system. “So yes, my love — my Y/n — I do feel safe with you.”

“I feel safe with you too,” you murmured. “I love you, Azriel.” 

You kissed the crown of his head, earning one last smile and a slurred, “I love you, Y/n,” before his jaw went slack and the room went silent save for the mixing of your breaths and the stirring of shadows.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #fluff #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #sleepy azriel is the best azriel #i swear i just need a man who wants to sleep with me all hours of the day and is a living furnace #is that too much to ask?