#i want to hold him close and pat his head

[suuooe]

-- Touch deprived boys

✧ or: touch- or not so touch deprived wind breaker boys ✧ featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren x gn!reader [separate] ✧ content: established relationship & fluff ✧ a/n: i dropped one suo fic and got busy the same week and fell ill the next week lmfao. hiragi may be a bit ooc - ya know when you know how the characters act and how they are in theory, but can't articulate that in your works? yeah. yeah. this is not proofread we post this without beta-reading like real men.

Sakura doesn't register the feeling at first. To be more precise, he doesn't know what the feeling is at all when it first appears.

I imagine Sakura having a significant other that's the polar opposite to him when it comes to physical touch - as in they would 100% at any given moment when they're together hold any part of Sakura that they come in contact with. (This boy cannot for the life of him shake off anyone he deems close away, grab his hand and lead him on and he will 100% complain the entire way, but he'll never shake off your hand)

Which means that ever since he did start to date you, he wouldn't even know the meaning of what touch deprivation even is - because not a day goes by when you're not touching him some part of him.

So when a day actually comes when you're not holding onto him, he feels genuinely put off. Something is wrong, but he can't put his finger on it. And oh boy does that clearly show on his face. Sakura is after all - an open book when it comes to his feelings.

He's moody, he doesn't snap and yell like usual - but he only mutters answers back whenever someone asks him something. Even to you - if anything, you would think he's mad at you. He's fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and averting his gaze from you whenever you ask if he's okay.

He's an open book yeah, but he won't say a damn thing - pride and all.

It'll most likely be in a scenario where you're surrounded by more people than usual that you hold back a bit on showing affection. But still, you're mostly by his side, talking to him, handing him drinks and heck your shoulders brush against each other every time you laugh at something his classmate had said - you're that close to him.

And yet it feels wrong.

"Oh, Haruka your drink is empty. Want me to go grab another one?" you're not even waiting for an answer before you lean away from the wall behind you to head towards the refreshments table on the other side of the rooftop.

It's only when your presence once again leaves his side that Sakura springs into action, reaching out to barely grasp the fabric of your shirt to hold you slightly back. Puzzled, you turn around with a confused smile, only to be met with an equally confused, but frantic stare from your lover. "Everything okay, Haruka?" you ask again, ignoring the fact that Haruka's gaze is looking all over the place but at your own face.

"Y-yeah, why wouldn't it be?" although he says that, his hand is still grasping onto your shirt. A few seconds go by in silence before you feel a slight tug against them - and suddenly every dot in your confused brain starts to connect on his bizarre behaviour today.

Your eyes soften, and Sakura can hear your quiet chuckle when you turn around to face him, forcing his fingers to let go. But before he can ask what you're laughing about, he can feel himself being pulled into a hug, and he can feel your smile against his shoulders as you pat his back comfortably. "You're so cute, Haruka." he can hear you say through your quiet giggles.

You can hear a quiet "Shut up…" from him, but you can feel the way his posture drastically softens under your hug. But before your duo-coloured lover could wrap his arms around your waist, you hear a low whistle coming from behind you. "Naaw, Sakura-kun was missing [Name]'s touch for the day."

And in an instant you're yanked (gently) away by an arms length with Sakura yelling profanities at a laughing Suo. Well at least he's back to normal.

Suo's never "deprived" per say of your touch - because he's the one initiating it 90% of the time.

He's already physically affectionate. He's usually seen having an arm around your waist when you're peering at something, holding your hand when the two of you go for a walk or leaning over you when you're standing still to rest his chin on top of your head (if you're shorter, if not he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck).

And while you don't mind (in fact often times you lean most of your weight on him if he's standing behind you once you feel his presence) Suo does want you to initiate contact once in a while.

But alas those feelings is rarely shown on his face, always sporting a neutral smile to any situation he's put in - no one can tell that he's a bit more troubled than usual.

But what kind of lover would you be, if you weren't able to spot these miniscule changes in Suo? When he now only briefly holds onto your waist to silently announce his presence beside you before retracting his arm back and when he waits for your fingers to graze against his own before he tangles them together?

You do notice, and Suo also knows you've noticed the slight difference in your otherwise normal habits. How you peer up at him a bit longer than usual when he decides to sit next to you in the library instead of behind you like he usually does so you can rest against him. But he only gives you a wide smile in return to your confused glance.

"You know-" you say with a start, seating yourself down on Suo's lap the moment he seats himself down properly on the tatami floor of his room, your lover only wrapping an arm around your back to make sure you don't topple over. "This is a very elaborate way to tell me you want me to initiate physical contact more often."

"Hmm? Whatever do you mean?" he feigns ignorance, merely tilting his head slightly to the side when you twirl your fingers around the tassels of his left earring whilst resting your head against his shoulder. "Why can't you just ask like any other person for a hug or something?" you question.

"That wouldn't be fun. I wanted to see if you loved the physical touch as much as me, after all." he says, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, "Me not reciprocating your touches was not an answer?" you inquire, raising your head to stare at him, Suo only giving you a smile that seems a bit too mischievous back while shaking his head.

"Initiating and reciprocating are two different things, dear. Initiating takes a lot more courage after all." you only hum in return, resting your head back on his shoulder before taking a hold of his hand to toy with his fingers, bending the appendages while admiring how smooth his skin was - even with all the fighting he does. "I like it when you initiate contact first though…" you murmur in the end. Suo, who had initially thought you had put the matter of his impromptu idea to the side hums in surprise at your quiet confession.

"Why?"

You shrug, deciding to intertwine your fingers together before resting them on your own lap, smiling softly at how Suo's thumb brush against the skin of your hand. "I don't know either. I just know that it's you whenever someone takes a hold of my hand, you do have the habit of grazing your fingers against mine before holding them after all. It's almost like your way of saying hello before we even make eye contact." you tell, "You always reach out for my hand first after all."

You're not staring at him, still busy looking at your clasped hands - but he still smiles down at your form, turning his head to press his lips on top of your head. "Well with such a sweet reason, who am I to not initiate it more then, hmm?"

He makes it known that he wants your touch before you can even tell he's deprived.

Which means he's never deprived, because when Umemiya feels that he needs a hug, he's making a beeline towards you to engulf you in his arms.

Which means there are two outcomes to this. If you're within his sights and he sees you as soon as he wants a hug, everything is A-OK! Umemiya gets his well needed hug to tackle the next set of duties and tasks he has set for himself for the next 3 hours.

If you're not in his arms within the next 10 minutes of him wanting a hug, he's going to talk to his plants like you've gone off to war and won't come back before the next year. Talking about how much he misses your presence, your favourite food, what kind of seed you would probably prefer, how he's found a new book that you love. At this point feel sorry for the person that has to sit through those 10 minutes of constant love declarations. (Hiragi)

And yes, Hiragi has you on speed dial because of this. It does not matter that you've recently been up on the rooftop spending time with him, it does not matter if you've just gone downtown to get some drinks - Hiragi does not get paid enough for this and he will personally escort you back to Bofurin's leader to make him shut up.

You better clear your schedule for the next hour because Umemiya will have you in his arms before making sure you're well fed and spend time with you. He doesn't necessarily have to constantly touch you then - if he can see you within his vision he's already beaming brighter than the sun in the sky.

"Hajime, you're about to squeeze my entire air supply out." you manage to wheeze out while laughing, Umemiya merely burying his face further into your hair while swinging you back and forth in the air.

"You could've told me that you were going to go shop for groceries for Kotoha! I would've helped." he exclaimed whilst putting your down on the ground again, though his arms were still snugly wrapped around your waist and still keeping you pressed against his front. Your own arms around his back when you noticed that he wouldn't budge from this position anytime soon.

"Last time you helped out, you crushed 2 dozens eggs remember? The townsfolk love you too much too, we would've needed more hands if you came along because of the amount of freebies they would give you. Besides she just wanted a few things and I was already out when she asked where I was, so it wasn't too much trouble to make another round through the town." you replied, stepping side to side while pushing yourself against Umemiya, a silent request for him to move backwards towards the wooden canopy so you both could sit down.

Once seated, you find yourself placed on top of Umemiya's lap with his arms still snugly wrapped around your waist, securing your body close to his own when you lean backwards to properly look at him while talking. At this point Umemiya has gone off tangent, eyes brimming with excitement over what had happened on the day you had mentioned the crushed eggs, only stopping his tangent when you bring a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away the dirt.

"… How long have you been in that position?" an exasperated gruff voice questions, and both you and Umemiya turn over to the entrance of the rooftop to see Hiragi leaning against the door.

"Hiragi! You want some water? Maybe some onigiri? Oh right, [Name] had also picked up some snacks!"

"It's been 15 minutes."

"Good grief, Umemiya, let [Name] go aleady, they're not your personal teddy bear."

Hiragi in general is not a physically affectionate person. He doesn't mind it, softens quite a bit when you grasp his hand whenever you join his group when they patrol the town and relaxes his posture while sinking further down the slope of the couch so that you can rest your head on his shoulder - even if the posture itself causes him a bit of discomfort after.

He's quite content just having you walk by his side - as long as he can see you from his peripheral vision or heck, just hear your voice speak from beside him or behind him, he's content.

He does however have his moments. Although it's incredibly hard to spot because Hiragi himself doesn't mind going days without getting a kiss even.

And even when you do initiate the first touch, he handles you like a porcelain doll - almost afraid you will break. You can hug him as tight as you can, he'll laugh and say he's not going to disappear anytime soon, but the hug you receive back is so gentle and full of love it almost brings you to tears alone.

Hiragi is aware of his position within Bofurin, and the fact that his name carries a lot of weight and is known beyond the town - as such he initiates the most contact when you're alone. And even that is a rare occurrence being that you're both busy most of the time.

As such, even though it's rare - Hiragi will show subtle signs that he wants to cradle you within his arms or hold your hand. A gentler gaze when he addresses you - a more carefree grin when you open your arms wide waiting for him to come to you, but even you can see the slight hesitation.

All in all, Hiragi is quite content and rarely gets touch deprived, but no one is immune to their lover asking for a quick hug, even when you yourself isn't much of a physically affectionate person.

"Can I have a hug? Please?" Hiragi blinks slowly in confusion, takes a look behind him before directing his attention to you. "… Did you have to ask me in a sketchy alleyway of all things?" he finally asks, which makes you laugh, hands still outstretched waiting for Hiragi to take the 2 steps to reach you.

"And here I thought I was going to get a lecture from dragging you away from patrolling." you say, now wriggling your fingers to emphasise your current need for a hug from your boyfriend. "Think of it like an energy boost for the day! I know you've been craving a hug from yours truly for a long time after all, it's been a while since your last recharge!" you add on, Hiragi quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"You're keeping track of them now?" he scoffs, taking the two steps you desperately wanted him to take, reaching out his own hands to intertwine them with your own before holding onto your wrists to rest your arms on his shoulders. "Hehe, next time I should keep track on how many Gas-kun 10 you take." you can see the roll of his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist while you lock your own arms around his neck, rubbing your face into his neck to breathe in the faint hint of cologne he dons each day.

The arms wrapped around your waist tightens a bit more than usual, and you can feel the stiffness of Hiragi's form loosen "You're on your lunch break?" he asks softly, to which you nod against his neck, "Mhm, have to go back within 10 minutes if I don't want my teacher to give me an earful again." he hums, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

He only pinches your puffed out cheeks, "Don't give me that look, I'll come pick you up after school okay? I think Umemiya misses talking to you as well." Upon hearing that, your eyes brighten immediately before skipping past him out of the alleyway, "Promise to not be late?"

"When have I ever been?"

Another boy who does not know how to function when he's touch deprived! But unlike Sakura, he does know when he is indeed needing for some more cuddles than normal.

But he's awkward, he doesn't know how to actually go on about asking for hugs. Yes in his mind it's logical to just straight up ask you for a hug, or if you can just sit in front of him so he can lean his forehead on the nape of your neck and just breathe in your fragrance. Very easy to do!

Easier said than done. Especially when he's the type to not do anything before you give him permission - yes he's still scared of hurting you even though when he's around you, he's fully in control of his emotions and reactions. But there's always a lingering feeling, you know?

Still jumps in surprise at times when you graze your fingers against any exposed part of his skin, but once he sees it's you - best believe he's holding onto you till someone calls him out.

He's more prone to initiate more contact when you're alone, being that in public he's prone to get teased (whether that's voluntarily by his classmates or involuntarily by Umemiya's comments on how soft he's gotten)

So as a compromise to his awkward self when you're in public, you'll get random visits from Kaji numerous times a week - which is a silent request to just have you in his arms.

Kaji's attention is taken away from his phone when he feels your fingers graze against his chin. Glancing down, he cocks his head to the side while pushing his headphones down to rest on the nape of his neck. "What's up?" he inquires softly, you don't say anything at first - merely directing your fingers towards his cheeks to graze against his skin there.

"Weren't you supposed to patrol today?" you ask, bringing your other free hand to push Kaji's hand that's holding onto his phone to your eye level. "In around 15 minutes yeah, I just left earlier." he answers, his fingers that were absentmindedly stroking your head grazing a few stray strands away from your forehead.

"It already takes 10 minutes from Furin to my house though? Shouldn't you leave soon?" you point out, but instead of rising from his lap to let him get up from the floor, you merely roll to your side to bury your face against his stomach before becoming still - leaving Kaji with both arms in the air, waiting for you to move.

"If you let me go, that is." he finally says after a second of silence, he can feel your slight nod before you plant your hands beside him to heave yourself up from his lap. And in the blink of an eye, you're at eye level with Kaji - his breath hitching at the close proximity.

"Don't come back with too many bruises, alright?" you remind, before slotting your lips briefly over his own. As you lean back you pull his headphones snugly over his ears again, mouthing something that makes Kaji roll his eyes. "You still let me inside regardless, so that threat doesn't work anymore."

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #haruka sakura x reader #suo hayato x reader #ren kaji x reader #hiragi toma x reader #umemiya hajime x reader

[junislqve]

⟡ love me like you do — pjy

you needed your boyfriend and he’s there for you, always

pairs jay + reader content mentions of headaches kissing wordcount 680 — find my other works

note this is like a sick fic cause i feel sick umm it wasn’t intended though! this is not angst guys lmao sawry clickbait 🙁 also new layout ><

YOU HAD A LONG WEEK. and you wanted nothing more than to be with your boyfriend. but instead, you were stuck in this club meeting for another hour. 

it wasn’t like you hated being a part of a lot of school clubs. after all, you were the one to sign up for them. it was all fun until finals week is coming up and you’re packed with assignments coming at you.

you’ve always downplayed days like this as a bad day, deciding to just suck it up and do whatever you had to do. but, this time everything just felt more overwhelming. your head aches ten fold and you really badly needed sleep.

the moment the meeting was done, you packed up your bag and quickly walked out. fishing for your phone to dial your boyfriend’s number.

“hi, babe” his soothing voice speaks through, “are you done with the meeting already?”

your head thumped uncomfortably as you kept walking through the halls, you hummed in response.

“babe? are you okay” his voice asks again, you can hear him shuffle around.

“‘m fine” you manage to let out, walking down the stairs.

“wait there, i’ll come pick you up” he said firmly before hanging up. if you had any energy left, you would’ve reminded him to drive safe and mumble in an ‘i love you’. but with this raging headache, you barely can think about anything else.

the next fifteen minutes you sat on the school bench perched just before the exit of the building. your body was curled, propping your head against your knees. 

when jay arrived, he walked in the school and immediately spotted you. he sighs in worry and walks up to you, patting your shoulder softly. you look up to meet your boyfriend’s soft smile, and he nudges your arm as he pulls you up gently to stand. 

you had him as your support as you walked to the car. or rather, you clung to his side like a koala as he had his arms wrapped around you, walking carefully so you don’t trip.

jay opened the passenger door and lowered you in, sliding the seat belt around your body before walking to his side. the whole car ride was silent, save for jay humming softly, him looking at you through the rearview mirror every few minutes to check on you. you just sat there, slumped, resting your head on the headrest. wishing the pain would quickly go away, your hands intertwined with your boyfriend’s for comfort.

the moment you stepped back in your shared apartment, jay bent down to untie your shoelaces and slid it off. sliding off your jacket next and placing it on the couch. he directed you to his bedroom and you sat down on his bed as he took his clothes, handing them to you to change into.

“i’ll grab some ibuprofen” jay mumbled, closing the door to his bedroom. you change into his clothes in silence, sliding underneath his covers right after. 

jay walks in and placed a mug on his bedside table and handed you the medicine, holding the mug as you drink, his hand placed behind your head. he placed the mug back on the table and joins you on the bed. 

he admired you. even as your boyfriend he had never really gotten used to seeing you this up close. not when the two of you are busy as seniors in highschool. he cherished moments like these, save for the fact that you were sick. he thought you looked really adorable engulfed in his shirt, buried in it from the size difference.

you lay your head on top of his chest, his arms snaking around your back, holding your waist. he slid his hand underneath your shirt and rubbed the skin there in small circles. as sleep threatens to overcome you, you felt your boyfriend kiss your head softly, laying his head on top of yours.

you both lay under the covers, your boyfriend holding you while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, lulling you to sleep.

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated

#🫧 ── 𝒇𝐢𝐜𝐬 && 𝒘𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ⟡ #© junislqve 2024 #park jay x you #park jay x reader #park jay #park jay fluff #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong #park jongseong fluff #park jongseong fic #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen angst #enhypen texts #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #enhypen smut #lee heeseung x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jake x reader #kim sunoo x reader #yang jungwon x reader #nishimura riki x reader #lee heeseung x you #lee heeseung x y/n

[chaldeanu]

olive gardens ノ dr. ratio

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . 3.6k ノ fem reader — lowkey antiquity au ノ reader is a priestess at the temple . unspecified romantic relationship ノ mentions of playful ancient gods lol ノ oral — character receiving ノ shamelessly doing it outside . lots of touching (grass) . riding him . lotus position (?) ノ cumming inside . protection used in ancient times — silphium (quite valid) and pomegranates (barely valid)

the warm breeze tickles your nose as you lie on the soft grass, pleasantly cold compared to the early noon weather. the shade of a large olive tree helps ease you into relaxation after hours spent in the blazing morning sun tending to your everyday tasks around the temple.

you feel him approach the hill long before you actually see him, like a ghost creeping up on you through the golden light shining upon your eyes through the leaves.

it’s expected of him to be here at this hour, next to you. there’s no one else to disturb you two, just lazy birds and the zephyrs dancing in the wind; little spirits weave and swing their arms around your form, ruffling his hair with fresh air, cool against the dew gathered on your forehead.

veritas ratio has nothing in his hands to offer, but his presence alone is enough to make the gods jealous; he’s beautiful, matching the divine statues holding the nearby temple tall and mighty on its columns. as if one of said sculptures escaped and turned human, with violet hair like the sweetest grapes and amber eyes like the finest quality copper coins.

with all that adorns him — from jewellery to elegant sandals — his skin glistens more than your own in the sun, the liquid gold of his being that he can offer instead. the sweat shines on the tips of his ears, nose, and cheeks, highlighting each crease with a perfect precision you’d swear is unnatural. godsent.

“i welcome you again on these sacred grounds.” you whisper with a smile, glancing at him as you finally decide to take your arm from your forehead. the look you exchange makes something stir deep inside you, right between the navel and pubic bone. “have you come back for some more wine?”

the question doesn’t catch him off guard; you can see in those pretty eyes that he anticipated it. when he doesn’t answer immediately, however, your sight trails down to the lush curve of his lips.

“indubitably, the wine would be pleasant,” he hums thoughtfully, already pulling closer. the jangling of metal pieces connecting to his ankles rings along with the crunchy sound of dry grass under his feet. “but i’m sure the gods already have more than enough wine to indulge themselves throughout the entire afternoon.”

“perhaps. what are you here for, then?”

it’s fun to tease him; it always ends with you having a great time playing around with the words. this also isn’t an exception when he answers with another question.

“and you? shouldn’t you be waiting in the temple instead of dozing off in the gardens, waiting for some stranger to stir a conversation?”

a weak exhale of laughter leaves your chest at that, prompting him to tilt his head inquisitively. “that depends if the stranger is you or someone else.”

you raise a hand, allowing him to close the last gap between you and bring it to his face to kiss your knuckles softly.

“if it’s you, maybe i wanted to see you sooner,” you add, stretching your neck upwards slightly in search of more touch.

it comes quickly as a brief peck on the lips, chaste and careful — just a greeting as well as a promise of what’s coming. the peachy colour of his cheeks only emphasises his sharp features further when he leans back, though you doubt anyone could ever forget how gorgeous this man is — one of the wonders of the world, with or without the blush.

his clothes slide from his shoulders effortlessly, the flowing linen clinging to the curves of his muscles like second skin as he exposes himself to the world. that beautiful hair spreads messily on the ground once he lies down next to you and pats his chest with one arm.

it takes neither hesitation nor further words for you to lay your head in his open embrace, pillowed by his heart beating steadily right under your ear. a pair of strong arms embraces your shoulder soon after, but most importantly, a new shade joins your rest beneath the tree.

even without having to look at the sky, you know the clouds gathered to dim the sun. the rustling of olive branches in the wind almost completely replaces the sounds of cicadas, gales soaring high in the sky to travel above the hill.

in such peace, the silence feels warm and welcome — as much as his skin brushing against yours does. you sigh deeply when his lips press down onto the top of your head, his breath tickling the roots of your hair, gentle fingers threading through it.

he hums; the tone is content. his hands exploring your back, petting and stroking each little bump of your spine, are the reasons for which you squirm lightly from time to time.

would be nice to continue and deepen the pleasure, but just resting like that was lovely on its own. sometimes you simply cannot decide — the kindness of the day enveloping you both is quite compelling too and you wish to never get up from the lush grass.

that is until you feel his erection stirring, pulsing under your thigh that accidentally landed on top of his robes around the hips. must be enjoying himself, if you can assume this much, from the hardness growing between your bodies.

without delay, your lips turn to graze over his neck, where his scent is stronger and fills your nostrils with its sweetness. it’s as if he just dipped in wine and ate some honey, that’s how rich it is — an intoxicating combination to inhale when you let your teeth nibble on the collarbone.

“are you sure you’re not coming here with different intentions than just offering your praise to the gods?” you purr against his skin, sliding down his torso, taking the folds of his robes with you to uncover more of his muscular body.

his chest is pale compared the legs he shows during his public appearances, tinted with a golden tan that gradually disappears under loose layers of fabric.

“depends. if i can praise the gods through my actions, i will gladly show it all to you,” he replies, his voice sultry.

oh, those gods have definitely been playing with your heart this year, giggling every time they send him here, probably watching from the clouds as the two lovers meet again under the tree.

“as always, i would be pleased to receive the worship in their stead.”

lazily, you rut your lower body against his leg while your fingers wander under his robes, smoothing up his inner thigh with a light brush, barely ghosting above the skin. he doesn’t let out even the slightest sound of acknowledgement, yet he doesn’t need to — you see his cock twitching.

the moment the pad of your finger touches it, his arms around your shoulder tighten. he shifts, grinding against the sole of your palm.

with a soft laugh, you lean forward to kiss him on the mouth. the groan of excitement you swallow sounds wonderful in your ears, full of longing for fulfilment, yet he couldn’t force you to move any faster, still too deep in his complicated thoughts.

as you feel the slippery tear of precum slide between your fingers, you want to pull the foreskin down, slowly teasing the ridge under the tip. so many possibilities, so many desires.

one more peck lands on your cheekbone as he puts one of his hands down between your legs, parting them carefully; fingertips stroke at your sensitive thighs, barely reaching for your private parts, too shallow to satisfy either of you.

“it’s okay, i can wait. no need to do it at the same time…” you smile at him when he pauses in his motion to study your face, frowning lightly, almost apologetically. “we have lots of time ahead, don’t worry. i’ve been waiting this whole morning, i can spare you another moment or two.”

he hums in agreement, though not without a bitter note of disappointment, probably having more than one idea of how to actually make it work. he could even fuck you right away, with those vast arms keeping your waist in place and those powerful thighs putting all that strength to work. or turn you around, with your face near his pelvis and your pretty ass above his face, grinding your wetness against his chin. he has said once that he wants to taste you like that, after all.

his hold around your waist is gentle, firm, and tempting — if you were standing, your knees would have given in long ago just from imagining such treatment.

nonetheless, as you finally unwrap his shaft to see it standing proudly, flushed and hot, glistening at the very tip, you take your chance to play with the foreskin, moving it back and forth with one hand and circling the glans with another.

losing your head, you place a gentle kiss on the exposed ridge, feeling the slit tremble when more precum slides out and tickles your lip. it tastes slightly salty, sweet on your tongue, and it makes your hunger only worse, eager to open your mouth and lick up the underside.

a hitched breath follows right after when your tongue swipes across the entire length from the balls to the crown; then another, with more power, to let the head rub against the palate and savour the taste that was left there.

obvious to notice that he enjoys it so much when he reaches for your midsection and grips at it so eagerly, thumbs stroking your tummy.

but before you could lose your mind and ride his thigh again, you feel something pushing your loincloth aside, cold air hitting your intimate parts; the fresh breeze combined with the sweat cooling your skin sends chills down your back. the difference in temperature is enough to make your skin prickle.

he may not reach your pussy, bit too far away, but his large hand caresses the curve of your ass languidly, drawing patterns of worship all over the skin, massaging it every time your movements falter.

he knows all the right ways to make you melt, even a mere touch like that leaves you purring happily against his shaft. your thighs tremble when you imagine yourself in some other position — any of those you two have already experienced together.

he must have thought about them too when his other hand presses on the back of your neck, leading your head down again to lick over his cock.

if that’s the direction he wishes to go, then who are you to decline? especially when your cunt clenches with emptiness, dripping onto the grass already just from this little gesture.

when you take him in your mouth, you hear his low moans, short and satisfied, followed by the thuds of his head hitting the soft ground. your hands work to cup his balls, tugging lightly to bring the first surge of pleasure to his body, rewarded with a warm shiver rocking his thighs.

he’s so generous today with the sounds of enjoyment, little gasps escaping his pretty lips, mixing with the wet slurping of your tongue; that makes it nearly impossible to contain the blissful laugh building in your chest.

finally, you can feel his hands travelling back to your legs, spreading your folds, and rubbing in just the right way — longing for more.

“it’s enough. come here.”

without a word, you oblige, although it doesn’t keep you from whining loudly, desperately trying to give him the final push. your kisses trail up his abs to his pecs, then his shoulders and neck, his body rolling beneath you like waves in the ocean.

all the way, his palms stay on your sides, guiding you with a careful but confident grip onto his lap; holding you steady at a good angle when your lips lock again with passion and impatience.

your cheeks burn at the accidental sight of his cock nestled perfectly between your folds, ready to take in when you roll your hips; so warm against your clit that the heat pooling in your stomach spreads through your limbs, warming them from the inside.

“look at you, beautiful. be so generous and sit on me already. i will repay you the other time,” he whispers, leaning for another kiss; the way he bites into your bottom lip tells you he is impatient.

with your hands on his chest for balance, you straddle him comfortably, locking your ankles behind his thighs. he watches, panting and groaning in sync with the movements, eyes hazed and cheeks flustered as you rise on your knees, hissing from the drag of skin against skin.

slowly, with a measured pace, you sink onto him with a delightful sting stretching you out; feeling every little detail of his shape as you hold your breath in anticipation.

he doesn’t close his eyes, doesn’t look anywhere else but at you. the intense gaze on your face makes your insides clench involuntarily, and it takes a moment for you to regain control and continue your progress.

when you’re finally sitting flat on top of him, your head is spinning. just being connected makes your walls pulsate, and it takes an enormous amount of effort to not succumb to your needs. your aching core just wants to rut down until the climax.

there’s still so much you want to do before that happens, so much you wish to share, but the syrupy whines just keep spilling from your throat and the pleasure takes away the control over your muscles.

you have to cling to his wide shoulders when he wraps his fingers around your waist, trailing the sides with the back of his knuckles. the tender caresses send waves of delight up your nape.

“be still a little longer,” he coos, but his own breath is so laboured that it trembles in his ribcage as well. “you’re enjoying yourself too much just by sitting on me. how will you manage to continue?”

“please, don’t say anything… mmh—!” you respond, mouth falling slack to allow the long moan to slip off your tongue.

the high-pitched keens resonate with your hammering heart. you’re the cause for the shameful noises in the gardens, but you couldn’t care less — just as the man beneath you, you know the gods will have no issue with those. they aren’t easily offended, quite the opposite.

just thinking how they might be watching makes you hiccup, shattering the rhythm of your breaths.

and then the sound changes when he moves. hips rising off the ground, slamming your ass down hard enough for your spine to arch, yet you find the perfect position and squeeze around his shaft, receiving a hiss for a reward. his cock pulsates as you grind against it, fucking yourself at last — with a tad more pressure and patience, it wouldn’t matter if he moves or not; it could be just as satisfying.

“oh, if you only knew how it feels when you clench like this,” he groans as you watch his adam’s apple move with the heavy swallow. “to feel how my seed gathers in my loins, ready to release into your womb.”

“i didn’t take you for a man like that…”

“only with you.”

it takes an immense effort to tear your eyes from his handsome face, flushed, shiny with sweat, and with a with a pleasured grimace twisting the corners of his mouth. but the throbbing is too urgent, your orgasm right at the edge.

“ah! hmm… i still prefer to eat too many pomegranates, you know.”

“don’t you store silphium at the temple?”

“if we haven’t used it all by now before getting a new batch.” you laugh briefly at that.

your legs open further to lean backwards, hand clasping on his thighs behind your back, giving you better access, and from that view alone, it would be so easy for him to cum on the spot. the pearly sheen of slick running down your thighs makes you quiver and pull away again, no more than an inch, though it leaves your whole body twitching in search of stimulation.

as he realises what you want, one hand lets go of your hips to put itself on the swell of your pussy, right above where your petals spread to embrace him. the delicate touches there, massaging in circles and applying a soft pressure over the protruding pearl hidden among your folds, send the sharp bolts of bliss through your gut.

“ahh, gods…” you mewl, knees shaking when you try your best not to fall over. his other hand holds your side with strength, securing your trembling figure as you roll yourself against both his fingers and his cock.

even with all the care to move your hips to get the right angle, your bodies collide forcefully, making your inner walls wail in joy as the nerves in the soft skin catch the last sparks before it all fades. you buckle under the wave of euphoria crashing against you, everything coming at once — the rhythmic contraction, the heat igniting your whole body, and the tears of overstimulation burning your eyes.

without even trying to open them, you let out a whine, feeling you tighten over him, and legs struggle to not give in, still rocking against his shaft, dragging every second of this godly ecstasy.

noises of him speaking die down, though, and the pleasure turns sour at the thought you accidentally upset him; maybe your hips jerked too hard against his erection, or you hit his chest a little too harsh.

then you open your eyes.

he sits up to hold you by your arms, with his length still lodged deep in you, hefty as ever. yet his features are not scrunched up nor furrowed, not even in the slightest.

he just looks dazed.

“apologies if i interrupted your preferred rhythm. i lost myself in the pleasure…” his voice is honeyed and so lovely to hear that it seems unreal to experience it just once, even if you’ve already heard it so many times when you embrace together like that, skin to skin. “come closer, i want you like that… here.”

your lips find each other in another kiss, slow and sloppy, interspersed with tired licks. it’s such a blessing to see him like that, glowing with peachy blush and with the mix of both yours and his sweat — it’s the thrill of excitement bubbling in your heart that you’re the reason behind his satisfaction.

slightly embarrassed by your previous reaction, you let him move your own body as he wants to, making it feel as if you were one, swaying in a dance of love under the canopy of branches and olives in the warm light of day, basking in the glory of their gifts.

he seems to be thoroughly enjoying the situation, playing with your senses so mercilessly that you have to bite onto your lower lip to suppress another bout of moans — not when you can hear the quiet ones of his own, breaking out with every other breath.

his movements are a tad clumsy and awkward in their attempt to fulfil two roles at the same time. yet you couldn’t mind the pace, his girth rubbing just the right places and forcing another squelch out of your cunt, drooling shamelessly all over his pelvis.

still sensitive from the previous peak, it doesn’t take much time before you feel another one building in your lower abdomen. your legs hug his waist tighter, and you lean your whole body weight against his.

but it’s not your job to move. it’s his, and he does it wonderfully.

heavens, it feels so good that your throat closes, all your attempts at breathing completely unsuccessful, and he probably sees how your eyes glaze over. even when your back arches away from him, the intensity of his stare never falters, bringing you the utmost joy, but now his expression changes too.

the words get caught somewhere along the way when your walls spasm and milk him without warning — even the brief gasp he makes can’t tell whether it was intentional or not. his mouth hangs slightly open, letting out silent huffs while his body continues its thrusts, shivering in tandem for the last seconds.

not once does he tear his gaze away from you as the ecstasy in his stomach snaps — a rush of warmth coating your insides — and slows his pace into shallow rolls. there is something magical in those moments of conclusion — seeing him still holding your frame as if he didn’t just spill all that thick cum into your core.

gathering strength in your muscles, you straighten up enough to playfully take the tip of his nose between your teeth with a giggle; it doesn’t take long for him to push it up slightly, catching your mouth for a long kiss. with a sigh of satisfaction, he falls back on the grass, taking you with him, still embracing, still connected.

you follow the path his thumb traced down the curve of your cheek, nestling against his chest, and your heart beats alongside his. it’s tempting to let your eyelids close and let the pleasant post-orgasmic sleep claim you.

“tell me,” he hums, fingers reaching for your head to skim through your hair, untangling sweaty strands. “is the priestess elated with our leisure? have i done what i had to do?”

“perhaps,” you grin at him. “the gods are thankful for your devotion.”

ৎ୭ ₊ ˙ ⊹ . author’s note ノ i said ‘lowkey’ antiquity au because the setting is only vaguely described and could work if we get dr. ratio’s planet at some point in hsr :3 until then, just imagine it as loosely inspired by ancient greece or rome. as usual, i’m sorry if i overlooked any mistakes, but i can only endure this much of proofreading before giving up. also, please don’t believe in ancient protection methods even if they could work lmao ♡

#—writing. #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail smut #star rail x reader #star rail x you #star rail smut #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x you #dr ratio smut #hsr x reader #hsr x you #fem reader

[baohanhanesel]

Calling them by their Call-signs.

Mentioned: John Soap Mactavish, Simon Ghost Riley

The reader is a civilian. The scenarios are separate. The reader is not gender specific.

John Soap Mactavish

"Soap!" You shouted from the other room, which earned you fast footsteps to the said room. The door was swung open and there stood John Mactavish in all his glory.

You had a basket in your hands, leaning it against your hip and holding it upright.

John was frowning at you, unusually quiet. It was obvious he wanted you to have the first word.

You, all too aware of what you had done with the name-call, smiled innocently and started speaking.

"Do you have any black clothes I should throw in the bin?"

John audibly relaxed before cursing.

"Yer think dats funny, hen?"

"What do you mean, Soap?"

"Nae. Nae. Nae. Dats nae reserved for ya. Not when we're home."

You shrugged. You knew exactly why. Soap was who he was on duty. The man who would kill with orders and clean the field with efficiency. The name meant John was on track. That he was ready to make a run for it. And it being spoken in this domestic setting...? It made him upset. The fact you were doing it knowingly? He was annoyed.

"I don't understand, Soap. Why don't you want me to call you by your name?"

John's eyebrows furrow, and he lets out an exhausted grunt before making his way to you. He grabs the bin and just throws it to the ground before scooping you off of the ground.

You don't act surprised, you were kinda rooting for this. A grin betrays your play of innocence and stretches wide on your face.

"Soap aye? Soap. Fucking Soap? Fine. Let's go w' it."

"What--"

"Let me remind mah name, bonnie. Maybe muscle memory will help ya?"

John throws you on the bed a little roughly, and you can see just how annoyed he is.

"Wait John--"

"Och, it is John now? There we fucking go. Told ya muscle memory helps."

You grumbled, face incredibly red and a smirk accompanying it.

"Wait where are you going?!" You sat up abruptly, about to stop John because he made a move to take a step away from the bed.

"... Aye ah wasn't serious... Ah would never initiate without... ye ken... That's nae very... okay ta just throw ye like that cause lil ol' me was pished."

"John if you do not get your hands on me I swear to god---"

"Do nae have to tell me twice."

You add the clothes in the bin after.

Simon Ghost Riley.

You grab the remote and raise an eyebrow at Simon. He isn't looking at you, he is looking at his phone; scrolling away.

"Hey Ghost, you won't watch with me?"

Simon snaps his head up the moment the name is out of your mouth. He stops. Looks at you with widened eyes and a piss poor expression. What did he do?

"Sorry, love. Yes, yes I will."

"Hop close big boy." You pat the spot next to you and Simon plops himself right next to you. What did he even do?

He just sighs, throwing an arm around your shoulders and looking at the screen.

"Ghost, you think we got popcorn?"

"What did you just call me, love?"

"Ghost? Your name?"

Simon frowns. His blonde lashes flutter aggravatedly. He huffs in annoyance and slowly wraps a strand of your hair around his point finger.

"Since when I am Ghost to ya?"

"What are you saying?" You fake innocence, but don't make the mistake of looking at his face. You can't. You know how upset he must be- how annoyed he must look.

Ghost is, well, the Ghost. Ghost is cold, he is a weapon. He is a man who dug his own grave and crawled out of it like the legend he is. He is no man. He is more than that. Simon thought he had told you that. That the Ghost wasn't meant for your lips. He was always Simon with you in his house. He'd never dare to look at you when he is Ghost. When he is dirty, when he is corrupt.

The dark memories make him frown deeper. His eyes darken noticeably and you think about giving up on this name calling here and now.

"Ghost?" Simon parrots, then he laughs.He laughs, with tears in his eyes. "You think that's funny?"

"You are laughing...?"

"Call me that again."

"Simon, love--"

"No, none of that. Call me by my name."

"Are you sure I--" You turn to look at him. That's not the reaction you thought you would be triggering.... You clear your throat. Asking if he is sure is stupid. "Ghost."

"That's it, you want the Ghost?" Simon hooks his fingers all around your hair and grabs a fistful.

"Ghost, please, I was just joking." You are sweating. You look into Ghost's eyes; they are not as bright. His thoughts are not very bright either...

He grabs your hair and makes you face him, rotating your head however he likes gently with the grip he has on your hair. His lips catches yours, and immediately drowns you into a deep kiss.

The dark thoughts, the memories... All of them flicker away as if your lips was all he needed all along. His mind clears, and he can't even feel anything but a strange giddiness. He doesn't let it show on his face, or the pace of the kiss.

When you part away, you pant for air. Your lungs are burning and heart is skipping multiple beats. "My love..."

"Shhh shhh..."

It is no surprise that Ghost is a petty man. It is a surprise that it is turning you on. You swallow hard, his hand pulls your hair and positions your head however he likes. He has a go at your neck, down your collarbone and all under your jaw.

His heart is light, his mind is empty. He smiles as he presses his lips all over your warm skin.

You stop when Ghost has left your torso bare of cloth.

His eyes search for a hint of discomfort in your body, he finds nothing akin to it. Not with you. Never with you.

"Are you mad at me?" You barely manage, mind too foggy.

"I am having a good time. Are you mad at me?"

"For pulling my hair?"

"And for stripping your chest bare."

You laugh, holding his face in-between your hands. "I am having a good time, Simon."

"Y'know... I don't mind being the Ghost with you."

"No?"

"No."

#call of duty #cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #johnny mactavish #simon riley #boyfriend soap #husband soap #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #husband ghost #boyfriend ghost

[alsktudy]

— because i love you

paring. joshua x reader genre. fluff, comfort, bsf!joshua, f2l, mutual pining, it's the little things au wc. 0.7k warning. reader drinks alcohol and wears make up, mention of vomit, confession

synopsis. you finally learn the reason why joshua insists on doing the little things for you.

au m.list. it's the little things [f]

“take slow steps alright?”

you nod, grinning like an idiot at his words as he helps you make your way to the bedroom without planting your face onto the floor.

usually you wouldn’t drink this much, but something in you wanted to go a little crazy tonight. but you went a little too far, which led to your friends to calling the one guy who would like to look after you voluntarily.

“you smell horrible,” joshua laughs as you plop down, laying on the bed.

joshua begins talking, but it all seems muffled as some uncomfortable feeling begins to bubble up from your stomach.

suddenly you sit up and sober up, “shua! m-move!” you push him out of the way and beeline straight for the bathroom, kneeling at the toilet causing joshua to rush in and hold up your hair.

you groan as he helps you up and brings water for you to drink.

“gotta brush your teeth, don’t want you to have vomit breath in the morning.” you pout and nod, groggily making you way to the sink.

you lean on him as the two of you walk back to the bedroom, laying back down on the bed, closing your eyes.

he hears your soft snores and his heart begins to melt at the sight. he chuckles to himself and begins to take your stinky clothes off.

if this was anyone else, you probably would try to kick them the second they tried to help you out of your clothes, but your head was still buzzing and it felt a little nice being helped for once, plus joshua would be stubborn and insist on helping you.

once he has you in your fresh clothes, he carefully tucks you underneath your blankets then notices your makeup and groans at himself for not reminding you to wash your face.

seeing how peaceful you were while sleeping, he decides not to wake you and runs off to dab micellar water on a cotton pad and returns back into the room, gently wipe off your makeup, your eyes slowly fluttering open.

“sorry… just needed to take your make up off.” he says a little guilty for waking you up.

you shake your head and mumble, “it’s fine, i should be sorry,” he moves away then throws the pads in the nearby trash can and tilts his head in confusion, “i’m such a burden to you.” you chuckle pathetically at yourself.

“and why do you think you’re a burden?” he asks, adjusting the blanket so that you’re sufficiently covered.

“i made you pick me up, and help me and stuff... ugh i even vomited… that’s so gross.” you groan at yourself, being a little embarrassed.

he sits on your side of the bed and sighs to himself, “i’d rather pick you up from the bar, help get you out of your clothes, take off your makeup and tuck you into bed than read your text telling that you woke up on the floor,” he reaches out to caress your cheek. “imagine how gross it would be if you vomited while you were home alone.”

“but why do you help me?“ you say, face growing a little hotter at the feeling of his hand on your face, “i don’t deserve this, or you."

he smiles and rests his forehead yours, “i do all of this, because i love you.”

you stare up at him with big eyes adoring him, his three words ringing through out your ears. “what…?”

he whispers, “i love you, i’m- hoplessly in love with you and i hope you could love me too.”

“i can. i- i mean i already i do.” you mumble shyly.

he eyes widen a little, then he smiles then presses a kiss on tip of your nose, “now cmon, how bout you fall asleep, hm?” he says, smiling before walking to the door.”

you call out his name, causing to stop and look at you over his shoulder. “stay over tonight,” you say patting to the unoccupied space next to you, “please?”

he could never say no to you. he makes his way around the bed and going underneath the covers, shuffling a little closer before pulling you closer.

“i really love you,” he mumbles into your hair, “and i’ll do everything in my power to show you that i do every day of my life, i promise.” he says before the two of you drift to sleep.

thank you for reading until the end!!

a/n. oh! 2 fics in a month!? thats new. currently not learning any content at school so im able to write a little more! this might be the last one for a while, but hopefully not!

want to read more? » m.list

want to be tagged? » taglist

tags:

@aaniag @kokoiinuts @nishloves @joshuashna @sofix-hc7 @mekuiikore @onlyyjeonghan @dokyeomkyeom

#mina's fics ୨୧ #caratlibrary #caratsland #joshua fluff #joshua x reader #joshua imagines #joshua x you #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen x you

[hauntedhokage]

ｆｒｅｅｆａｌｌ

summary: Sae wasn't particularly interested in building relationships or bonds with the people around him. Until you came along, wife of one of his new teammates and the sweetest woman he'd had the honor of knowing.

word count: 3.7k

warnings/tropes: mutual pining, cheating (not reader or sae tho), emotional cheating (on reader’s side), divorce, non explicit sexual content

To Sae, team engagements were unbearable, he used to not go to them because he had better things to do than talk to the idiots he played with. Then you came along when your husband was traded to the team, suddenly evening recovery after training and practicing all day didn’t seem as important. He was strategic about it; feigning an interest in the rest of his teammates and their lives as well, saying that his manager thought it would be good for him to actually get to know the people he traded passes with. The entire locker room was in shock, but you had commented after a match that friendliness looked good on him even though it was clearly killing him to be nice. 

And he watches as you lean into your husband at one dinner; the man who was so undeserving of you, who didn’t worship you like you deserved. You were ethereal, the way the sunlight made your eyes sparkle, or how your jewelry seemed to look brighter against your skin - even down to the wedding band that he longed for you to have a reason to take off - it was all worthy of worship and your husband didn’t give you that. Not that he was wishing for unhappiness to befall you, that was a storm cloud you didn’t deserve to be under due to how nice you were. The only person who saw right through him, who caught the way he looked at you and looked at him the same way. 

He will never forget the way you’d run into him at a team dinner for the players and their spouses to celebrate a big win. You’d gone to the restroom, and he had gotten up to do the same a few minutes later and ended up almost knocking you over. On reflex he reached out to steady you, but his hands didn’t want to leave where they landed on your arm and lower back. Your skin was so soft, that he knew after you’d shaken his hand since that was a normal greeting where you’d come from, but to hold you like that was something else. Something he wanted to get that chance to do again, which had been difficult for him because he had never really been interested in a woman like he’d been interested in you. 

“You should be more careful,” he had warned, carefully helping you regain your balance before he finally stepped away. 

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting anyone. You’re like a brick wall, Itoshi.” Your teasing came with a pat to his chest before your hands tried to smooth out any imperfections caused by his catch. “Thank you for catching me.”

“Anytime you need it.” And you smiled, cheeks flushed as you stepped around him to head back to the table where your husband was. He hated that he had to let you go after you’d been so close, after you’d touched him so carefully. It was the sweetest torture to be so close to you, seated beside you at the table and noticing the way you’d look at him out of the corner of your eye. The thought of a chance brought his mood up significantly, and that he knew you definitely had noticed. The chance of what, he wasn’t exactly sure, but the way you put your hand on his shoulder as you and your husband made your leave - a small squeeze that he hoped was meant to be affectionate - he hoped that whatever that chase was it was a bit more than friendly. 

Then there was the time after one of their matches and you had headed to the back of the stadium where the locker rooms were. He had known that you and your husband had gotten into it before the match, the man couldn’t stop talking about it and how he needed to fix the problem, so when he ran into you he was almost happy that you looked conflicted about being back there. He’d asked if you were okay, something that you hesitated to answer before you nodded with a smile so fake but he couldn’t call it out. Instead he gave you his phone number, watching as you typed it and sent him a text with his name, telling you that you could always talk to him if you needed an unbiased opinion on anything. He was mostly unbiased, just not when it came to your marriage, but you didn’t need to know that. 

And you had taken up on his offer, to the point where he was sure you talked to him more than anyone else. He knew he talked to you more than anyone else in his life. He’d never pushed past the line of friendship, never wanting to ask for you to be unfaithful to the man you admitted to him you were gradually falling out of love with. The man who you were concerned was pulling away from you emotionally while you were basically emotionally cheating on him with how often you spoke to Sae and all the information you shared with him. 

Emotional cheating was an interesting concept to him, something that he felt was actually stupid. Having a friend that you confided in shouldn’t be considered cheating, since neither party was sharing their own feelings for one another, just simply talking shouldn’t be considered cheating. If it led to infidelity, then the physical act of cheating was the actual cheating that occurred. But he wouldn’t argue with you, you didn’t like it when he pushed back on that concept but he knew how you felt while you knew how you felt. Agree to disagree worked out for the two of you.

You’d been friends for almost a year when the news broke. Your husband had been supporting a mistress since he’d been traded to this current team - for as long as you’d been in the country. Which was one issue, the other issue was that the news hit the media with the mistress sending screenshots of texts and pictures sent between them to an online news page and her instagram. The entire internet had seen the dick of your husband of almost four years, and had been tagging you recently in instagram posts and blowing up your comments on all social media sites they knew you were on while trying to get information or more to add to the story the news sites were spinning together. He was surprised your phone was even on, telling him where you were when he asked to which he responded with his own information about having a concussion. He’d done something stupid when he heard the news, revealing emotion his team had never seen in him before. A woman as sweet as you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, you deserve much better than that. 

You hadn’t formally invited him, but he makes his way to the hotel you were at and knocks softly on the door. You look more put together than he’s expecting, but lets you walk into his arms and leads you back into your room. He's surprised when you arrange yourself around him on the bed rather than being the little spoon, but he’s not arguing since the lights in your room were a bit too bright for his taste so pressing his face into your neck without you fighting it was perfect for him. 

“Do you really have a concussion?” you ask, your fingers stroking his side as he nods into your neck. “I thought you were more careful than that.”

“Got a bit reckless after I heard about what he did. I like you too much to let him get away with hurting you. The entire team is pissed, too.” The answer is honest, pulling a sigh from you as you nod.  “You didn’t have to let me in.”

“No, I know. But if I had to see anyone after the shitshow he’s stirred up, I’d want it to be you.” Did you really like him that much? He supposed you had to with the way you looked at him, talked to him, even the way you baked specific treats for him that were in compliance with his strict diet rather than the ones that his teammates were okay with eating “just one” to break theirs. “This is why I put away my own savings, being a soccer wife can crash and burn at any time. It’s just unfortunate that the media is so involved.” 

“What happens now?”

“Right now we’re separated. I didn’t want to stay in the penthouse which is why I’m in a hotel,” you start, sighing as he nods slowly. “He’s trying to put off the divorce filing, since he’s fucked regardless of where we do it. Divorce due to infidelity? Not liked by any country’s divorce court.”

“Do they know you’re here?” Who they are needs no elaboration - they were always the media that ended up everywhere when there was a scandal afoot.

“No, they’re currently more focused on him and his idiot mistress. The scorned wife isn’t as important until the divorce is filed and money gets paid out.” 

He sighs into your neck, and you feel the gentle press of his lips against your skin. He always took such good care of every part of his body, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how they’d feel against your skin. They’re soft, not at all chapped, and they’re quite comforting to have on you. You wished you could rebound so quickly, but to be caught with your divorced husband’s teammate made you look as bad as him. Maybe this would be all you had, a soft rendezvous in a hotel room here and there where you could just be you and Sae could just be Sae and you didn’t have to worry about the media or the team or your soon-to-be ex-husband. 

“Sae?” The only response you get is a grunt into your neck, and you kiss the top of his head as you try to formulate your next question. This affection wasn’t completely abnormal, hugging Sae was pretty common for you since you treated him so well. It’s kissing that’s a bit out of place, but it’s comforting in this time of crisis, so you’d take it where you could.  “What’s this thing between us? I mean, we’re close and I think we know more about each other than anyone else, but is there something that can come after all this blows over?”

This has him pulling away so he can look at you, blue eyes soft with a look you had only ever seen pointed in your direction. You’d always known that you were something special to him, and he was special to you - probably the only person you confide in about the woes of your marriage and this life you chose to lead. In turn you get to know more about him, how he felt about soccer and this team he was on (a bunch of sub par morons but the money was good), even a bit of the history between him and his brother. 

“I love you,” he starts, his and cupping your cheek as your eyes begin to burn with the tears welling up in them. “I have for a while and I know that you’ve known that. I just didn’t say anything because you were married and I didn’t want to put you in a position where you might feel uncomfortable or in a spot where you had to choose.”

“Bastard made that choice for me, anyway.” 

“As for what happens next, that’s your decision. I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush into anything, I want you to feel protected from the media or fans of the team too.” His hand moves from your face to hold your hand, fitting enough that it was your left hand that still bore your wedding and engagement rings. “I care more about your comfort than any label we might have. I’m here for you and with you in any capacity you want me to be.”

His fingers go for your rings, and you don’t fight him when he slides them off your finger and turns away to set them on the nightstand behind him. His fingers are laced with yours when he turns back, this time pulling you into his arms so you can rest your head on his chest. The admission of feelings isn’t returned, but he’s not expecting them at this point in your processing of what was happening in your life. Your marriage and intimate details of it had been revealed, an upset mistress releasing texts about how your husband was upset that you hadn’t put out, how you made him mad sometimes with how you baked for his teammates, how he fell out of love with you but stayed because you made him look better for the public. 

Funny how that turned out. 

And he lays under you, watching as you go through your various social media accounts to delete any pictures of you that had been posted - even tweets or pictures where he’d simply been mentioned. All of them were gone after a few minutes of looking. Next comes your camera roll, that one taking a bit longer because of how long you were with that guy, but you were relieved when you had everything deleted. He’s surprised when you open your camera and take a picture with him, casually resting beneath him as he watches you. 

“Take a better one,” he requests, kissing your temple as you smile for your camera. His phone vibrates on the nightstand with the message you’d sent, and his hand sets to running along your side with fingers dancing delicately along your curves when you finally lock your phone and let your eyes close. “How long do you want me here?”

“How long can you be here?”

“As long as you want me to be here. If nobody knows you’re here, there’s no real concern about people seeing me leave.”

“At least stay the night? We can figure out the rest tomorrow.” The request is met with assurance that he’d give you that, and you pat his stomach in thanks. “I guess it wasn’t fair for me to call his mistress an idiot. She was pretty smart to release to the media. He said he’d tell me and never did, so she made sure I’d find out. Real girl’s girl, I guess.”

“I don’t think embarrassing you in front of the world is something a girl’s girl would do, but alright.”

“It just sucks, y’know. He was once so good to me, he loved me, but I guess pain goes both ways. I think he knew I fell out of love with him, too.” You murmur with a sigh, sitting up when Sae requests it so he can take his shirt off to avoid further wrinkles. But the purpose is defeated when he just throws it to the side before he lies back down, arm spread to the side in an invitation. “If we did get together, it’d have to be private for a long while. I’d hate for you to look like a wife stealer despite him doing what he did.”

“I’d want it to be private anyway. People are a bit crazy when it comes to me, you shouldn’t have to put up with it.” You pull your knees up to your chest when he says that, unsure how you felt like that. Your previous husband wanted to show off wherever he could, to have Sae want to tuck you way was a direct one-eighty from what you knew. “I’ll show you off where it matters. You’re more to me than just a shiny trophy.”  

You don’t think he knows how beautiful he looks spread out on the hotel bed. Red hair a direct contrast against the white pillow case, sunkissed skin on full display with a couple bracelets and the necklace he usually wore standing out but so fitting on his form. His usual indifferent expression is replaced with a mostly relaxed smile but still laced with concern as he watches you sit on the bed. 

You’re crying before you register it happening, and he sits up quickly to pull you back into his chest. Providing comfort where tears were involved wasn’t his specialty, and that was made obvious in the way that he carefully rubs your back and stayed quiet. There weren’t words he knew to provide, but you knew he didn’t understand that being there was enough - you’d have to tell him when you weren’t sobbing. 

“S-Sae,” you whimper, clinging tightly to him as he kisses your head. You’d been strong for so long, it was okay for you to let it all go. At this time he can only shush you, pulling you into his lap to keep you close as you cried. It was all he knew how to do, and eventually he’s laying back on the bed with you curled into his chest half asleep. 

“You'll be okay,” he whispers, kissing your head again as you hum. “You’re strong, you’ll make it through.”

And you do end up okay. Your divorce was finalized a month after, the payout you received for the infidelity helped you pay for an apartment, but you didn’t spend much time there. Sae’s apartment had become a second home, the spare bedroom turned into a space for you to hide away in when you didn’t want to sleep in his bed. You were very concerned with ensuring he didn’t feel like a rebound, despite never having done anything more than sleep in his bed and share the occasional hug, but he let you have the distance you wanted when you asked for it. 

When he gets a better offer a few months later, he asks you to go with him. It’s another country, another team, another new environment. But it was a fresh start, too, and he’s happy to hear you say yes; to go with him, to live with him, to be with him. And you relax considerably in your new home, grateful for the space from your ex-husband and the team who felt sorry for you. The letter that sat unopened in your suitcase left there until you decided that it was time to reopen that wound. You don’t think you’ll ever open it, not really wanting or needing closure from your ex-husband, you’d moved on well enough without it. 

Right now was about christening every surface of your new home by making out with Sae wherever he could get his hands on you. Sex was something he wasn’t initiating until you did, a boundary he’d put in place after you first kissed him. His hands would wander, but never in a way he thought would make you feel like he was pushing you to sleep with him in that way. His favorite spot that he’d had his mouth on you was the kitchen counter, slotted between your legs with his hands on your thighs and the way you sighed into his mouth as his hands moved up your sides made his soul sing.

“I’m so grateful to have you,” you whisper when he pulls away, a smile on your face as you catch your breath. “I love you, Sae. I know you’ve known, but I needed to make sure I told you outright.”

“I love you, too. But you’ve always known that.”

You only nod, hands holding his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him again. He’s so in love with you, never had he felt something so strong for another person. A ring he gave you sat on your right index finger, nothing too glamorous but he wore a matching one in the same spot - eventually he was sure you’d have matching rings sitting on your left ring fingers, but that time would come when you both were ready for such a commitment. 

He’d make sure to appreciate how you shone in the sun, the little laugh that left you when you were surprised with a kiss, especially the way your hand would seek out his while you were in a car with him. Lunches on the patio while you’re sitting in his lap, the fingers of his non dominant hand trailing up and down down your spine - the time he got to spend with you cherished since you weren’t traveling with him for matches. The privacy you two had added another layer of peace in your relationship, not needing to worry about appearances or media speculation on where your relationship was at. He could just be Sae, and you could just be you. Happy and in love and ready to take on the world together. 

And when you start having sex, Sae thinks about how fucking stupid your ex was. You’re gorgeous when your face is flushed, your lips parted as you can’t stop begging him for more or keeping your mouth on him as he makes love to you. Not to mention how you feel around him, never had he ever had a partner like you - pushing him onto cloud nine and catching him when he fell with his own peak. 

When he brought you into new locker rooms to christen his new space while you’re wearing a jersey with his name and number on it, watching you try so hard to keep quiet so you wouldn’t get caught and get him into any trouble -  not that he cared. He was Itoshi fucking Sae; he did what he wanted, when he wanted to do it. And if that was taking his girlfriend in a locker room, then he was going to do it. 

Your relationship is made public two years after you’d moved with him the first time; an instagram post from you showing off the ring and your fiancé, showing that you were happy. This was a media storm that Sae welcomed, something positive rather than the negative press he attracted due to his attitude. You loved him dearly, and he loved you proudly. 

That’s how it should be.

#itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae fanfic #blue lock fanfics #blue lock fics #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock x reader #sae x reader #sae x you #itoshi sae fluff

[dira333]

It is what it is - Tendou x Reader x Ushijima (platonic)

Another one of my "this is my boyfriend and this is my boyfriend's best friend" fics. This has been going round and round in my head the whole weekend, I hope I could put all the feeling into this that I felt about it. Tell me what you think.

Tagging: @lees-chaotic-brain and @satorisoup because in a way, it's Tendou

“Aren’t you worried people are going to call you out for this?” Satori asks, teasing lilt in his voice. “Flying all the way to Paris for a haircut?”

“I don’t care,” Wakatoshi exclaims, bathing in your joyful giggling and Satori’s amused snort.

“Whatever you say. I’ll see you after work, okay?” The redhead brushes a hand over his buzzcut before leaning over to kiss you - Wakatoshi averts his eyes on instinct.

“See you later. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hold Satori’s hand all the way to the door, watch him step into the elevator before you turn back.

“Alright, now that we’re on our own. What do you want me to do with your hair? Some color? A buzzcut?”

“The usual,” he asks, closing his eyes when you pat his shoulder. 

There’s so much understanding in your words, your action, the simplest touch.

Oh, how he’s missed you.

-

“Wakatoshi, stand straight,” his mother orders. His father’s hands are warm on his shoulders as he stiffens, posture perfect now.

“This is my good friend,” she explains just seconds later and Wakatoshi can see it, in the harsh lines and the absence of a smile.

“And this is her daughter. It would make us very happy if you two would marry one day.”

“Love-” His father says in that tone he uses when he asks his mother to change her mind on something. She rarely listens.

“Of course, nothing will be settled until you are older,” she speaks over him yet again. “But I am sure you two will be fast friends.”

The adults leave them alone after that, with nothing but a plate of healthy snacks and glasses of water.

You are nice to look at, he thinks. Unlike your mother, you’re curves and softness, eyes glittering as you shyly ask what he likes to do in his free time.

“My father plays Volleyball with me sometimes,” he explains, “Or I read.”

“Could you show me?” You ask, pulling your lower lip between your teeth as you wait for his answer.

“The books or Volleyball?” He asks, not really understanding. He’s not good at reading between the lines, as his mother calls it. He hopes you won’t mind.

But your face lights up at his question, a sight he wants to see again.

“Both?” You ask and when he nods and turns to show you to his room first, your hand shoots out to curl into his, warm and small and soft.

He can’t remember the last time he held someone’s hand, but he squeezes yours like his father used to do with his and your smile tells him what he did was the right thing.

-

“Is this okay?” You ask, soft voice floating around him as you drag a comb through his hair.

“It always is,” he answers, stilling as you move to assess your work.

“It looks good,” you decide finally, smiling as you grab a mirror, making a show of presenting it. “You look good, Toshi.”

“You look better,” he insists, but it sounds foreign in his mouth. 

He’s not one to compliment someone’s appearance and he can see the surprise in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes immediately, “It’s something I heard Satori say.”

“I thought it sounded familiar,” you agree easily before patting his cheek. “I sometimes lend sentences from him as well.”

“Pray tell.”

You smile, handing him the mirror again. “First you have to tell me how it looks.”

“Perfect,” he says, because it is. He looks the way he’s used to, the same haircut he’s had for years. You embrace routine as much as he does. Maybe that’s why the two of you clicked so well.

“Now,” you smile, “I’ll make us some tea. I’m sure I still have some sweets hidden where Satori won’t look if you want them.”

“I’d rather have something healthy,” he admits and your smile doesn’t flicker, it grows.

“Like the old days,” you agree easily.

It warms his heart that you remember the beginnings of your friendship as well as he does.

-

“Are you leaving?” Satori asks, looking up from his Shonen Jump.

“Yes,” Wakatoshi agrees, tying his shoelaces. “I will be back before lights out.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Satori laughs, “I’m curious. Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting with a friend.”

“Do I know him?”

“No, you don’t know her.”

The surprise is loud on his face, dark eyes widening.

“A girlfriend?” Satori gasps, hands pressed against his lips in excitement. 

“A friend that’s a girl,” Wakatoshi corrects. For a second he stills, doorknob in his hand. “Do you want to join us?”

Satori blinks. Once, twice, three times.

“Are you sure?”

“No. But I think she might like you.”

“In that case… give me five minutes.”

“I’ll inform her that we’ll come in later.”

“We won’t be late if we run,” Satori sings, diving into his closet to pull out something to wear that doesn’t wear the Shiratorizawa emblem.

.

Wakatoshi is usually blind to social cues, no matter how much he studies them. He still can’t read between the lines, but he can’t say he’s given it much thought lately.

He’s good at Volleyball and he’s excelling in his studies. What else is there in life?

You’ve never complained about him missing something either, clearly content with the state of your friendship. And if there’s someone’s opinion he cares about, it’s not his mother's, it’s yours.

But he can see it now, written in bold letters on your face, your eyes, the shiver of your hesitant smile.

You look at Satori like the girls from his class look at him before he begins to speak.

Your hand twitches as if to hold his but you hesitate.

He turns to look, surprised to see his only other friend just as changed.

Satori is supposed to be the confident one. Loud and unapologetically himself.

This Satori, however, is blushing, staring at the tips of his sneakers only for his eyes to flicker upwards and back to you for only a second before looking back down. 

Is this, Wakatoshi thinks, a little dumbfounded that it’s happening in front of him of all people, is this falling in love?

-

It’s cold, even for Spring in Europe. You curl further into the warmth of your jacket, hands stuffed into the pockets to keep warm.

The day had been bathed in a grey light that’s now dimming fast, street lamps and the warm glow of shop windows battling against the coming night.

Wakatoshi’s hand reaches out without a thought, folding around yours like he used to when you were little.

You look up with surprise and he’s not sure if he should regret this or not.

“You’re worried,” you tell him, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. “I can see it now. I was wondering what was wrong, but you wouldn’t say and I didn’t want to push.”

He opens his mouth to insist that he’s fine, a lie he’s been telling himself for weeks now, almost mastering to make himself believe it.

“Don’t lie, Toshi,” you ask and it’s the nickname that unravels him, a memory from long forgotten times resurfacing.

“I love you,” he admits, words spilling out of him like Volleyballs out of an upturned cart. They’re unstoppable, now that they’ve been set free.

But your smile doesn’t fade and your hand only squeezes his.

“I know, Toshi.”

His eyes flicker to the dark asphalt and back up.

“But Satori-”

“You don’t love me like Satori loves me, do you, Toshi?”

Your voice is warm and comfortable, like a blanket he wants to curl into.

“I don’t know,” he admits, because this is you. He’s always been honest with you.

“But I do,” you tell him softly, reaching up to cup his cheek with your other hand. “You’ve never looked at me in that way. We both know it, Satori and I, we both know you. What is worrying you?”

The question hits him like one does a tuning fork, everything in him vibrating to the point he fears he’ll fall apart. 

“I miss you,” he says, his voice carrying something he cannot begin to describe.

Hurt, loneliness, despair, insecurity. Will I ever be enough?

“Oh Toshi,” you rub your thumb under his eye, catching a tear that must have slipped out. “We miss you too. But we love you, okay? And even though it feels like that sometimes, you’ll never be alone.”

He considers it, smoothes it over the open wound inside of him like one does with a balm.

Another voice pops up, cuts through the noise inside his head like a warm knife through butter.

“There you are. I was looking for you.”

They both turn and Wakatoshi isn’t sure what he anticipates to see in his best friend’s face.

Anger, maybe, or betrayal. 

Not this kind of soft worry he isn’t used to.

You say something in French he doesn’t quite catch and Satori steps closer, wraps one impossible long arm around his shoulders, and curls into him.

“Can’t fool us, big boy,” he says with a voice so warm it feels like hot chocolate tastes, “Knew something was up when you asked to travel all the way here for a haircut.”

It might look strange to someone looking in, the three of them hugging in the cold night on the middle of the sidewalk.

But it’s not strange to Wakatoshi.

He should have known. These are his friends. His family. 

His home away from home.

-

“Is this really okay?” Satori asks, kneeling on the floor next to Wakatoshi’s bed. “You’ve got to be honest with me here, okay?”

“I am.”

“I am going to marry her if you let me, you know this!”

“I’d be happy if you did,” Wakatoshi insists. “If she wants you, that is.”

Satori snorts but it sounds more like a sob. “You think she likes me?”

“She said so, didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” the word is more a dreamy sigh than anything else. Satori puts his head back and stares up at the ceiling. 

“I didn’t know people like her existed,” he says, voice far away. Wakatoshi turns to look at him. 

“Girls?” He asks, a little confused.

“Kind people,” Satori explains, “with a good heart. Who don’t judge about someone’s looks.”

“Did that happen to you?” Wakatoshi asks, thinking about himself and his mother and you.

There’s something in Satori’s eyes, something vulnerable and open that he hasn’t seen before.

Wakatoshi pats the bed next to him before he can pull himself away again. Satori is nice. He wants to know him.

“Tell me about it?” He asks.

.

“You’re not good with social cues, are you?” Satori asks one day after lunch, walking back to Class.

“No.”

“The girl that was talking to you, she wanted me to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because she likes you. She wanted to be alone with you.”

Wakatoshi stops, freezing in place.

“What?” Satori asks, walking back to him. “What are you thinking about?”

“Do you want to be alone?”

Satori understands immediately. “Sometimes, yeah. But I’d tell you that, you know? Right now we barely manage to hold hands without our faces combusting. And I like having you there. She does too, I know.”

“How?”

“She said so,” Satori pulls out his phone, drags his thumb across the screen for a minute before he holds it up for Wakatoshi to see.

It’s an entire conversation he’s not been part of, your blocks of texts interspersed with the emojis Satori likes to use.

But he can read it, black letters on a white background.

“Wakatoshi is the most important person in my life.” It warms his heart like hot chocolate on a cold night.

“And since you’re my best friend too,” Satori singsongs, “You’re not getting rid of either of us.”

“Good,” Wakatoshi nods and repeats it once more for good measure. “Good.”

-

“Poland is not that far away,” you point out over morning coffee. Your hair’s a mess and you sit in Satori’s lap, leaning back into him every few minutes to remind him to feed you one more bite of the croissants Wakatoshi bought on his morning run.

“It’s not France.”

“Yeah, but the French team sucks,” Satori exclaims, “You’d lose all happiness playing for them just to be close. The Polish team sounds good if you ask me. And it’s really not that far. You could come over once or twice a month depending on your schedule.”

“I’ll think about it,” he agrees, buying himself some time with a sip from his coffee.

His wound is still open, though it has stopped bleeding.

“Do you think I’ll find someone,” he asks, yet again unable to keep the words inside before he has thought them through.

Satori and you both turn your heads to the side as you think, a habit that started with one person but he’s no longer sure with whom.

“Maybe you will,” you say, “maybe you won’t. You can be happy either way.”

“Don’t lose sight of what’s important to you,” Satori adds, “because it can be easier than you think. To give up on a boundary just because you think you have to.”

He considers that for a second.

“If I’ll never find someone-” Your hand finds his before he’s able to finish the sentence, squeezing as hard as you can.

“You’ll never be alone,” you insist. Satori’s larger hand wraps around yours until again, you are three.

- - -

The French Countryside is not a bad place to retire.

“Look what I found,” Satori raises a basket full of fruit, each looking better than the last, “everything from our own garden.”

“I thought you wanted to work less,” Wakatoshi comments, picking a plump apricot from the basket and biting into it. It’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“Ah, this isn’t work,” Satori insists, but he puts the basket down, pressing a hand to his back for a second. “I just need to slow down a little.”

“You should,” Wakatoshi agrees, but makes no move to pick up the basket himself. His back is even worse than Satori’s.

“Boys, boys,” your voice comes from inside, “Leave the hard work to someone younger. I’ve made coffee and tea, what do you want?”

They turn and walk inside, Satori singing yet another made-up song about the market in the village.

When he reaches you, he kisses your temple first and then your lips, squeezing your hips under the apron.

Wakatoshi has gotten used to the sight after decades. He’s more interested in his coffee and maybe the morning paper.

“Has anyone seen my glasses?” He asks, squinting down at the paper. 

Satori laughs. “On your head,” he tells him, but stays where he is, glued to your side.

It’s like this everyday and if someone would dare to ask, Wakatoshi wouldn’t mind living like this for another decade or two.

After all, one hasn’t lived before turning one hundred.

My Kofi if you'd like to tip me

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! #hq x reader #Tendou x reader #Tendou Satori #Tendou fluff #Ushijima x reader #Ushijima Wakatoshi #Ushijima fluff #Tendou x reader x Ushijima

[rimmir9]

Snippet 2 - Hands

Pairing - Yoongi x reader

Short story - fluff with a little bit of smut

You knew you had a thing for Yoongi's hands since you first noticed them. At first, you just looked, then you wondered what it would be like to hold his hand. It felt nice—so strong and careful at the same time. He usually grabbed your hand shyly, holding it quite loosely, but as time went on, his grip got tighter and tighter. Your hand felt smaller and smaller in his. You enjoyed it, and his habit of rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb gave you a special kind of comfort.

Then you wondered how his hand would feel on your head. He knew you didn't like people touching you, so he was a bit restrained with that kind of affection, limiting it to hugs when you met and holding hands after you got closer. You knew he didn't like to get touchy with others either. It was a slow dance between you two. Holding hands in conflict, then holding hands because you liked the comfort. One day, out of the blue, you just asked him to pat your head. You said you needed praise for doing good work that day. Of course, he stumbled a bit at your random request but didn't think too much of it, already used to Taehyung or Jungkook's ways of asking for affection. Since that day, you became addicted to him patting your head and playing with your hair. He found a certain type of comfort in running his fingers through your long hair.

Maybe that was the moment he started to develop feelings for you, or maybe not. Certainly, something changed after that. He would try to sit next to you, close enough that your shoulders would support each other at every movement.

Then you started to wonder how his hands would feel on your legs, on your knees, and your thighs. One evening after your schedule, you waited for him to finish some tasks so you could get dinner together at the new restaurant near your place.

As you left the office, you noticed your untied shoelace on one of your sneakers. Your hands were full, and as you struggled to solve your issue, Yoongi stopped in front of you: "Just let me do it." He worked on it really slowly, and you wondered what was taking so long, until you felt his hand slowly moving from your shoe to the back of your lower leg, then behind your knee. Your breath paused right there, but as slowly as he had moved before, he quickly rose up, making a lame excuse: "Sorry, I felt like slipping and I had to get my balance by holding onto your leg." Being too disturbed by what had just happened, you said nothing. You made your way to the restaurant, with Yoongi following a step behind you. You were definitely glad because you knew you were red in the cheeks. You hoped that maybe he wanted to touch you as much as you wanted him to.

After that evening, you were sure you wanted even more of his hands and made it your personal goal to hold his hand as much as possible and touch him as often as you could without making it too obvious. He surely noticed your eagerness and complied each time. Lately, he had developed the habit of grabbing your waist to bring you closer to him, and that was your next wish: Yoongi's hands touching your waist.

The greatest moment was on a walk. Passing by the river, you stopped to look at the little spring ducks. You told Yoongi to come with you just so you could see them. As cute as they were, it seemed like his mind was set on something else. As you rambled about the adorableness of the ducks, he closed the distance between you two, looking at your lips and bringing one hand to touch your chin, then your cheek. All this happened so quickly, and his thumb was already on your bottom lip. "Yes, ducks are the most adorable. They are so cute," said Yoongi, looking at you with his dark eyes. His hand went to the back of your head, guiding you towards his lips.

Soft... was all you could think of. He was so caring, but so sure in his movements. You felt completely cared for in that moment.

As your relationship with Yoongi grew, so did your expectations of him. And of course, Yoongi had layers, lots and lots of layers, so much to uncover. Hence, you weren't that surprised when he didn't deny your request to put his hands on your neck. He actually seemed thrilled, which made your stomach drop when you saw the change in his eyes. Lust loomed through his gaze. He worked his way with his hands softly from your sides to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it. His lips never left yours until his hand was fully comfortable on your neck. Breaking the kiss to look at you—your red lips, flushed cheeks, and loving eyes—he felt shivers run through his whole body, especially where his hand was placed, being sure of your belonging to him in that moment.

He squeezed his hand for a second, looking with a question in his eyes: "Do you enjoy this, dear?" You gasped for air while trying to answer, but he did it for you, squeezing again for longer this time: "I see you do. So naughty, Y/N! I enjoy discovering this side of you." And he brought you in for another deep kiss that left you breathless.

The next step you know it has to be sucking on his fingers.

#yoongi x reader #bts imagine #yoongi x y/n #suga imagine #suga smut #suga x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi drabble #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader smut #yoongi fluff #suga #suga fluff

[tickly-tufts]

Once Bitten, Twice Teased

finally letting miguel be a ler after four whole fics dedicated to wrecking him

ft. lee!peter cuz he’s earned it, and ler!mj cuz i love that for her <3

—

“You paralyzed my husband.”

“He deserved it.”

“Probably, but I’d like an explanation anyway.”

“He was annoying me…” Miguel paused. “…and said I had fangs like a kitty cat.”

It took everything in MJ not to laugh. The mental image was simply too good. Miraculously, she managed to hold back, though she did smile at Miguel’s pout.

“So, you bit him to prove a point?”

“The fangs are no joke,” Miguel defended. Then, sounding just a bit sheepish… “The venom will wear off in an hour.”

Whatever he expected MJ to say next, it wasn’t what she actually asked.

“How much can he feel while he’s stuck like this? Does the venom cause any numbness?”

“He can still feel everything… but this is a punishment. If you’re planning to-“

“That’s not what I mean.” Leaning in with a conspiratorial glint in her eye, MJ made her proposition. “How’d you like to help me get some payback?”

—

Peter’s face lit up when MJ entered the room, and if he’d been able, she knew he would’ve rushed her. Beyond the change in expression, however, he didn’t move a single muscle. Miguel had placed him in the center of their bed, arms laid neatly at his sides. Noticing the pillow under Peter’s head, MJ smiled. What a softie.

“How ya feelin’, Tiger?” She sauntered over, taking a seat right beside her husband.

“Migs is mean,” Peter pouted. “I can’t believe he actually bit me.”

“Well, you did make fun of his fangs. Not your brightest idea,” MJ countered lightly. Peering at his neck, she soon spotted the bite marks. “Want me to kiss it better?” she offered sweetly.

Peter couldn’t nod but his gaze turned hopeful, and MJ leaned down to hover over the marks. Her breath puffed against them, and Peter would’ve shivered, but his muscles simply refused to respond. He smiled when he felt MJ’s lips, soft and warm against his skin. Then she began peppering small kisses along his neck, and he instantly remembered that kisses could tickle.

“Hmph!” Peter stifled the urge to giggle. The situation was already embarrassing enough. At least MJ would be pulling back soon. He just needed to control himself until-

“AH!” he yelped when kissing became nibbling, right where Miguel had bitten him before. “W-Wait, Em- Nohoho!” he cracked when he realized her true intentions.

MJ paused a few seconds later, shifting to whisper in his ear. “Do you remember that time you strung me up in the living room, then decided to tease me until the webs dissolved?”

Oh. Oh no. Peter did remember. He remembered that evening quite fondly, actually. MJ had collapsed into his arms afterwards, thoroughly flushed and swearing revenge. Of course, Peter had laughed it off at the time, doubting she’d ever catch him that compromised. It would be another decade before Miguel found them… and now, he’d served Peter right up for MJ.

“You’ve got to tell me the full story later,” Miguel interjected, done hiding his presence. Peter gawked as MJ patted the other side of the bed, giving Miguel a peck once he was close enough.

“Have you two been plotting against me?!”

“No, I specifically bit you for being a nuisance. The plan was to leave you in here alone… but MJ came up with a better idea.”

MJ beamed at Miguel, then focused her attention back on Peter. “Now, let’s find out where you’re most sensitive…” Peter cringed as his past words were echoed back at him.

Her fingers grazed across his ribs first, nails easily felt even through his shirt. It really wasn’t that bad a spot, but Peter’s breath still hitched at the touch. He had no chance of resistance, mouth curling up as nails dragged down. The fact he couldn’t even try to turn away made him overly aware of his own nerves.

MJ went from his uppermost left rib all the way to the bottom, then wiggled her fingers on the way back up. It was ticklish enough to earn a few snickers, but nothing too dramatic yet. That was until Peter felt a dig on his right, squawking when the tickling crept between his ribs.

“Wait- Wahahait!”

Miguel did not wait, fingers burrowing in without hesitation.

Peter’s mind demanded he move, but all he could physically do was laugh. It only spiraled when MJ switched spots, pinching at his much more ticklish side. The squeal he couldn’t quite suppress didn’t escape either tormentor’s notice.

“Shitshitshit! Thahat’s sohoho unfahahahair!” Peter swore when Miguel’s claws traced down his other side.

Claws and nails… it was a deadly combination. Peter couldn’t say which side was worse. If he’d been able, he would’ve been wriggling from one to the other, indecisive and frenzied. Unfortunately, as things stood, he had no choice but to endure both together. Miguel scratched carefully along his right flank, while MJ raked ruthlessly at his left.

“Mehehean! You’re bohohoth so mehean!”

“Pobrecito,” Miguel replied.

“Oh, babe, you think this is mean? Just you wait,” MJ promised.

A nervous thrill shot straight through him. How wrecked would he be by the end of this? He’d never felt so uniquely defenseless, safe from real harm, but not from this. His sides were bad, but not terrible. What would happen when they found his actual weakness?

All these thoughts were quickly halted by MJ poking around his waist.

“Nonono- Dohohon’t!” Peter giggled uncontrollably.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re helpless,” MJ cooed, kneading his love handles. Her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt, bypassing his only means of defense. It tickled so much that Peter’s laughter pitched higher, which didn’t escape Miguel’s notice.

“Que precioso,” Miguel teased, knowing it was a phrase Peter would understand. Right on cue, Peter blushed, and Miguel smirked in satisfaction. It was the exact reaction he’d been seeking, after so many instances of Peter flustering him.

Revenge garnished with extra affection, easily shared among three.

Peter flushed even further when MJ proceeded to lift his shirt. She pushed the hem all the way to his chest, exposing his pale abdomen. Just like that, he was on display for his equally gorgeous wife and boyfriend… and then insecurity reared its head, reminding him of his current physique.

Objectively, it was absurd. They'd both seen his gut before, and he was hardly one for bashfulness nowadays… but still, to have all their attention focused right there, while he couldn’t even cover his face? Apparently that was just a bit too much. Peter didn’t tense up, mainly because he couldn’t, yet his partners still noticed the shift in his mood. Of course they did... observant as ever. He shut his eyes to avoid examining their expressions.

There was a beat, then finally movement, but not from the direction he'd been expecting. Instead of MJ, sweet and familiar... it was Miguel whose lips brushed bare skin first. Peter's eyes shot back open and MJ caught his gaze, understanding reflected in her own. Then she glanced at Miguel, her lips quirking, and Peter’s attention jumped to him.

His heart skipped when he found Miguel staring, intense and analytical. Then it dropped as Miguel inhaled deeply, before blowing the most devastatingly ticklish of raspberries.

Peter screeched, barely calming when Miguel ultimately switched to nibbling. The tips of Miguel’s fangs grazed against his belly, pressing down too gently to break any skin. That was when MJ joined back in, too, peppering tickly kisses wherever Miguel wasn't. Peter giggled, then released a squeak when she poked at the softest part of his stomach.

If Peter had been a luckier man, the pair might've concluded around there. He rarely was, though, so of course they weren't done. MJ's next statement sealed his fate.

"We should lift his arms," she suggested to Miguel, and Peter nearly broke into a cold sweat. He didn't say a word as they guided his limbs. Miguel raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic silence.

"Hold on, are you nervous?" he had to ask, curious amusement coloring his tone.

"Wha- No! I'm just... getting tired?" Not entirely false, but not convincing either.

Indirectly calling his bluff, MJ reached out a hand, watching Peter's eyes. He anxiously tracked her slow approach, worsening the suspense for himself. Abruptly, Miguel inched forward, and Peter would've flinched if he'd been able. There was no way to track both of them.

Not that it mattered, once the tickling restarted.

"NOHOT THEHEHERE!" Peter screeched after a swear unbecoming of the Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman. MJ's nails scribbled at his left underarm, while Miguel's thumb massaged his right hollow. “DOHON'T- I CAHAHAN’T!" He wanted to thrash, but he couldn't even manage a twitch. "PLEHEHEHEASE!” It was a maddening experience. Being tied up had nothing on this.

If only he could lower his arms, or twist away, or struggle at all. It didn't help that he was just too damn ticklish in that spot. Miguel and MJ exploited his weakness in distinctly different ways, and thus it didn't take long at all for the contrasting sensations to overwhelm him.

As soon as tears rolled down Peter’s cheeks, they both pulled back to let him breathe.

“Alright there, Tiger?” MJ pet his hair, a hint of worry entering her voice.

“…Could I get some water?”

His partners relaxed, and Miguel nodded. “Be right back.” He returned a minute later with a bottle and towel, first wiping Peter’s face, then sitting him up on the pillows, then carefully lifting the bottle to his lips.

“Thanks,” Peter said after a long drink. “You two are weirdly diabolical.” He glanced at MJ. “Especially you.”

“Just means you have a type,” MJ countered smoothly.

"Hot and sadistic?"

"You said it, not me~"

And then before his brain could stop his mouth-

"Just as ticklish, too." Why would he say that.

Miguel's eyes narrowed dangerously.

“You know, we’ve still got time before the venom wears off.”

“Doesn’t seemed like he’s really learned his lesson, huh?”

Peter squeaked when something soft caressed his ear. MJ had a feather… no, make that two.

“W-When did you get those?!” He watched helplessly as she handed the second feather to Miguel.

“Aww, did you think I came unprepared? I knew you’d talk back enough to earn this~”

And then both feathers were twirling inside his ears, and he could only squeal for mercy.

#also happy ATSVersary to those reading the day im posting! #tickling #a tickly fic #peter b parker #miguel o'hara #mary jane watson #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderparents #spideysjane

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Unforgiving: Choso Kamo x y/n

Requested: No

TW: None

Word count: 795

Part 3 | Part 5 TBD

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another cold afternoon. The leaves continue their trajectory from tree to the floor. The ebb and flow of nature is evident in the harsh breeze of the day. The sun did little to warm you. 

You breathed into your hands to warm them. Even your weapon was cold. You stood waiting for Choso. You felt so silly waiting for an enemy to come and teach you how to fight. If you were honest, you'd admit that you were there for his touch. His attention. You felt guilty yet giddy. 

You hear the rustling of leaves. You turn excited to see him. He wears a soft smile on his face as he registers the fact that you waited for him again. You hold the urge to run into his arms. You walk up to him, slowly, deliberately. 

"You're late." You say. 

"I wasn’t aware that there was a time limit." He tilts his head to the side, a wide smile playing across his face. 

You huff and look away. How can he have such power over you? And why are you letting him have this power? 

"What am I learning today?" You mumble.

He stood there, pensive. He notices you trembling because of the cold. He feels guilty making you wait for him in such weather. He grabs your hand and guides you to a nearby stump. He sits down and pats his lap as a gesture for you to sit.  

You withhold a gasp. Sitting on his lap? That felt too intimate. Too welcoming. You debate on whether to cave into his invitation or not. You remembered him being warm and comforting. You craved his touch. 

As if your body had a mind of its own you mindlessly walked to him. You stood between his legs and sat on his lap. Instantly Choso wraps his arms around you. You feel his warmth, his body, his heartbeat. 

Your back is to his chest. His hands are wrapped around your mid-section. You felt captive but not trapped. You reminded yourself to breathe. 

"Let's not train today." He whispered against your ear. "Let me hold you, just like this."

You take a deep breath, the deepest you've taken all day. You could feel his breath, the movement of his lips against the shell of your ear. Your brain short circuited. You wanted to hear his voice again. 

"Why?" You ask. 

"I can't explain it, but holding you makes me feel whole."

You blush. "How so?"

"I live for my brothers, I love them. This feels different. As if…" he hesitates, "we live for each other."

You close your eyes at his words. Was he right about that? Were you caught in him? Were you wanting to live for him? 

You jolt out of his grasp, scared and anxious. You just met him. You've only spent time 2 other times. This was too much for you. You needed an out. 

"I can't do this. You're the enemy." You say as a matter of fact. 

"I am no longer involved with Kenjaku. I am here for Yuji. I wish to make things right." He stood up, embarrassed that he shared so much. 

"You keep saying that and yet you haven't gone to see Yuji." 

"You were my priority."

There he went again, making your knees weak. "Why?" You say looking for an out. 

"When I’m around you, I feel different." He steps closer to you. "I want you. And I've never wanted anything in my life."

You hold the urge to jump on him and kiss him. You weren't completely clear what was happening but you did know that you were connected to this man in some way. 

"What now?" You asked.

Choso shakes his head. "Say it. I want to hear you."

You act confused. You're afraid of repeating back his words. No matter how true they are, you couldn’t say it. 

Choso is patient with you. He trails his hand down your face. Softly. As if committing to memory the feel of your skin. You look intently into his eyes, defiant hoping he would waver. His eyes soften. 

"I can't say it. I don't know how I’m feeling. This is too much." You concede. 

"I understand. Take your time. I'll be around." 

He takes your small figure into an embrace. You let him hold you. It feels like home. Eventually you separate. He holds the urge, once again, to kiss you senseless. He trails his hand down your face and into your collarbone before turning around and walking into the woods. No final words. No goodbye. 

You stand there heartbroken and lonely. What have you done? Will you see him again.  The cold fall air is unforgiving. Even the leaves shake in the cold as the sun sets. 

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen choso #kamo choso #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n

[desertfangs]

“ am i not good enough? ”  Armand/Daniel :)

The pressure builds in his chest as he watches Armand doting on Sybelle and Benji as he speaks to Rose and Viktor. He ruffles Benji’s hair affectionately, and pats Sybelle on the shoulder softly, planting a kiss on her cheek. They both beam at him, so much love in their eyes.

Daniel’s stomach churns. All he can think of is Armand’s book, of the way he dismissed Daniel as a demented, morbid romantic who could not stand him, who had never really known or loved him. 

He’s trying so hard not to think of those words and to instead understand Armand’s love for these two beings, but it’s so damn weird to stand here in Armand’s house, watching him with his new family whom he’s only just met. He and Armand used to be inseparable and now he’s just a guest watching him from across the room. 

He’s been here over a week and he still feels wholly out of place, unable to sit and relax anywhere, so he stands against a wall, trying not to take up space. Marius is in a conference room with Lestat and some of the others, making plans to go to France. Daniel was hoping to catch Armand alone, but no luck. 

Benji of all people glances up and looks at Daniel curiously, titling his head in a way that reminds Daniel of Armand. Maybe Daniel forgot to guard his thoughts. It’s hard, with all the immortals here, to keep the walls up. 

Benji says something to Armand, who looks over at Daniel. And suddenly Daniel wishes vampires could turn into smoke and he could just vaporize on the spot. 

His breath catches as Armand breaks away from the group and heads toward him. He’s stunning, as usual. He’s wearing an ivory sweater and dark denim jeans. His russet hair hangs long and loose around his pale face and rings adorn his fingers. He’s so beautiful Daniel could weep and as he comes closer, Daniel can’t breathe. No air wants to enter his dead lungs. 

Armand’s amber eyes rake over Daniel who suddenly feels lacking in his worn jeans and t-shirt. “Are you all right?” 

Daniel nods. Fine, yeah, just dandy. He struggles not to laugh and Armand can’t hear his thoughts. Before he can verbalize the sentiment, Armand speaks again: “Good. I want all my guests to feel at home.”

Daniel’s heart sinks. He’s just another guest. Of course. What else would he be?

“Thanks,” Daniel says, the word coming out short and terse. Armand stares at him, and Daniel shifts uncomfortably. He points to the ceiling. “Nice crown moulding.” 

Armand frowns slightly. He glances back at Sybelle and Benji, eager to return to that conversation and escape this awkwardness. Why the hell did he come over, anyhow? What did Benji tell him? 

“Every inch of Trinity Gate was meticulously designed,” Armand says. “No detail spared.” 

“So I see,” Daniel says. It really is an impressive house, more intricate and detailed than their Villa in on Night Island, though Daniel prefers the latter. 

Armand reaches out and tears a loose thread from the sleeve of Daniel’s t-shirt. He doesn’t say so but Daniel can practically hear him wondering why Marius allows him to dress like a vagrant. Instead, Armand pockets the thread and says nothing. He wishes he would. At least if they could argue—

Sybelle laughs across the room and the others all join in. Daniel’s stomach churns as Armand turns and smiles appreciatively at them. 

“Am I not good enough?” Daniel asks, the question tumbling out before he can think about what he’s saying. 

Armand turns back to him suddenly. “Whatever do you mean, Daniel?” 

Anger roars up at the way he plays dumb, the way he acts like it’s an absurd thing to ask. And maybe it is. Maybe there’s really nothing left to say between them. Except that when he looks at Armand, all he wants to do is pull him close and hold him there, and he can’t. There’s this weird glass wall between them now and he hates it. 

“As a fledgling,” Daniel says. 

Armand’s brow furrows briefly and then his expression smooths out, becoming impassive stone. “You have strong blood.” 

Daniel laughs scornfully. “Yeah, yours,” he says. “That’s not what I meant.” 

Armand looks back at his beloved children with Rose and Viktor, people he adores and whose company he can stand. Daniel turns to leave. Armand grabs his wrist. 

“Of course you are. What a thing to ask,” Armand says, as if he’s a fool. And he is. He’s here, blurting out questions he doesn’t want the answers to.

“Yeah, sure,” Daniel says. He pulls away and heads for the foyer. He’ll go for a walk, go kill some evil bastard and slake his thirst and maybe then he’ll feel better. 

Armand follows him to the door. 

“I just need to hunt,” Daniel tells him. He opens the coat closet and digs out his jacket. It’s too light for the climate and it’s raining out, but it will do. Armand is still watching him wordlessly, infuriatingly still and silent. Daniel wants to shake him and demand to know what he wants. What he feels. If he still loves him at all. But he doesn’t dare ask. “Do you want to come?” he asks instead.

Armand tilts his head, a gesture that always makes Daniel feel like he’s trying to get inside his mind. Then Armand pulls a wool coat out of the closet and shrugs it on.

“Lead the way,” Armand says. 

Relief washes over him. It’s not enough. Not by a mile. But it’s a start. 

#armand/daniel #some prince lestat era angst for you #daniel molloy #armand #daniel/armand #devil's minion #prince lestat era #vc fanfic #vc fic #thank you for the prompt!!! #vc #vampire chronicles #tvc #my fic #prompted fic #prompt meme

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

Whump Month, Day 2 : Hiding an illness / injury

Whump Month by @cirrus-ghoulette 💕

CW : Mentions of throwing up / actively being sick. Slight hint as self isolation.

Summary : Phantom can't keep anything down and keeps it to himself rather than seeking help.

Word Count : 789

Being Topside was strange, to put it lightly. Everything about this strange place and its demands always made Phantom feel...out of place. Ostracized, if he could put a word that closely resembled the hollowed feeling in his chest.

The worst part, decidedly, was having a corporeal body. In Hell, and its endless vastness, he didn't need a body. Quintessential ghouls were more akin to spirits, ebbing and flowing, traveling where ever they pleased. Being summoned to different locations in Hell was as simple as breathing, but to be summoned to Earth?

It was like shoving the universe and its infinite vastness into a compact cube.

The first few weeks were fine, rocky, but fine. So many changes going on at once, so many things to get used to, so many eyes to try and decipher if that glint was hate or worry; Phantom couldn't tell.

What he could tell was that it probably wasn't a good thing his head was halfway down his bathroom toilet. Dinner just wrapped up, the sun slowly setting behind the Abbey, saying its goodbyes like the contents of his stomach. It's been like this for a few days down, and his body was not enjoying a minute of it, his eyes sunken and tired from constantly being sick.

"Phantom?" There was a voice at his door. From where he was he couldn't quite tell who it was.

"Ah...hold on!" He shouted from his bathroom, flushing his dinner and rinsing his mouth out with sink water before going to the door. Before opening it, he smoothed down his shirt and ran a hand through his hair; a lame attempt at looking put together.

When he finally opened the door, he was face to face with Rain. He liked Rain, the water ghoul was sweet and welcoming, one of the few who seemed to welcome him to the world and to the pack with open arms.

"Were you...throwing up?" Rain asked, blunt but hesitant, a clear line of worry on his face.

"No." Phantom shook his head, purposely keeping his eyes wide and round, open, innocent. Lying. He tilted his head slightly, his tail swaying slightly as if he were relaxed.

Rain gave him a little frown, as if he didn't believe the little quint.

"Are you sure?" Was the question.

A laugh, followed by; "I would remember if I tossed tonight's dinner."

Rain relaxed a little, barely, his shoulders slouching. "If you're ever feeling ill, I don't know if anyone's told you, but we have a Ghoul Infirmary. It's ran by Omega and Aether, they'll always be there to help and heal."

Aether. The name tasted like iron in Phantoms mouth. While he was new to the surface and still was learning about the world and everything it offers, he wasn't dumb. He was smart enough to know that his current...'pack'...was upset that their previous member, Aether, decided to stay behind.

"Of course." Phantom smiled, his signature goofy smile, all teeth. He was fine. He was fine, goddammit, so leave it alone. Leave it the FUCK ALONE-

"We love you." Came Rains voice, cutting through his thoughts.

"Thank you, Rain." Phantom smiled, a little more genuine, visibly relaxing. This seemed to satiate Rain enough, as he patted the quint on the shoulder and waved as he walked down the hallway.

Phantom sighed, closing his door and locking it, moving to his bed to sit down. He wasn't sure what was wrong with his body. He was hungry, that was for sure, as the hunger pains in his stomach were currently screaming for his attention, to be satiated.

But he knew that every time he attempted to get something down, within the hour his body decided that that was a bad idea, and had him back at square one, with his head halfway down the toilet.

Deciding that he wasn't willing to go back out, not wanting to see the look of distain or disgust in his packmates, he curled back up into his bed.

No one had to know. It was probably a weird strange sickness that would go away on its own, right? Right. Of course, it was just a passing phase, nothing more.

No one needed to know how in the dead of night, he hurled his body out of bed, scrambling on all fours to get to his bathroom, throwing up the very little remains of his stomach.

No one needed to know how the burn of stomach acid in his throat and mouth had him crying into the bowl, sobbing as his body dry heaved against his will.

No one needed to know how incredibly lightheaded it made him either.

No one needed to know, goddammit.

#van writes #whump month 2024 #phantom ghoul #aeon ghoul #rain ghoul #aether ghoul #omega ghoul #mc here is phantom #cw throwing up #cw mention of throwing up #cw self isolation

[everythingharrypotterblog]

charmed [19]: 'epilogue' (remus lupin x reader)

series masterlist here

join taglist here

a/n: this is the end fr now. thank u so much to everyone who has left a like, reblog, reply or ask throughout the years. you have changed everything<3 as always, LMK WHAT YALL THINK and who knows... GoF next? ;)

19.

“Ron!!! Fred, George! I need a set of hands to carry these dishes out to the dining table!”

The Burrow was especially crowded this Christmas holiday, but that didn’t stop everyone from putting up the biggest tree that could fit in the living room, and decorate it with as many ornaments it could hold up.

“Here Molly, let me.” Y/N walked up behind Mrs Weasley.

She cried out indignantly. “What are you doing up on your feet, no you go sit down! FREEEED!“

A 6-month pregnant Y/N merely chuckled and walked back out of the kitchen.

“Here, darling.” Remus said, pulling out her chair for her and grabbing her hand to help her sit down. “You want this?” He waved the pillow he had grabbed from the couch.

“No, I’m good, thanks love.”

Remus placed a gentle kiss atop her head before going to put back the pillow. 

Y/N felt something brush against her feet and let out a little yelp in surprise.

“Everything okay?!” Remus perked up from the other room, constantly on the alert for any small sound of discomfort Y/N may make.

“Sirius!” Y/N chuckled exasperatedly, as she saw a big black dog poke his head out from underneath the table. “Molly’s going to come after your ass for being in dog form where we eat…”

The dog smiled, bearing its teeth as it sat between Y/N’s legs, resting its head atop her belly. It closed his eyes and wagged its tail once he felt a kick underneath his chin.

“Baby recognizes you Siri…”

Y/N felt a hand brush her hair atop her shoulder and a kiss on her newly exposed neck.

“I’m all sweaty from getting up.” Y/N blushed.

“Don’t care.” Remus muttered in her ear.

She chuckled and Remus pulled out the chair beside her to sit down.

“Sirius!” He exclaimed, spotting the dog. 

Just then, they heard Molly’s footsteps approach and Sirius flew out from under the table, scuttering towards the steps.

“Whoa!” Harry said, nearly tripping over him as he came down from Ron’s room. Sirius jumped up on his godson, letting him pat his head before walking away and transforming back to human form.

Ron, Harry and Hermione walked in the kitchen and helped Molly transport dishes onto the dining table.

“I’ll keep the spicy stuff away from you, Y/N?” Harry said, pointing to his dish.

“Thanks, Harry.” Y/N nodded. She was in a point in her pregnancy where the slightest bit of spice would keep her up all night with heartburn.

Hermione hurriedly put her dish down and rushed to the empty chair on Y/N’s other side.

“This seat taken, Professor Y/L/N?”

Y/N giggled. “I’m not your teacher anymore, Hermione, you can call me Y/N.”

“Oh, right.” Hermione blushed.

Y/N pulled the seat out and invited her former student to sit. “How have you been, honey? You need to tell me everything about your semester.”

Hermione sat down gratefully and smiled as she took a deep breath, as that was precisely what she was hoping to do.

The table filled up as the rest of the Weasleys joined and they all ate their way slowly through many delicious courses prepared by Molly.

Y/N heaved a big sigh and brought her hand to her stomach. Remus glanced at her and gave her a look.

You wanna go? His eyes said.

Y/N nodded. Remus winked at her reassuringly and set his fork and knife down.

“Excuse us folks, dove here needs a little break.” Remus announced. Y/N smiled gratefully at him.

“I’m sorry, Molly, it was all so delicious, I think I’ve gotten too much of a good thing even—“

“Oh dearest, of course, do you need help getting upstairs?”

“No, no! Please, stay, finish your dinner.” Y/N exclaimed.

Both Molly and Arthur had gotten up to offer help, as well as Sirius and the twins, but the couple shooed them and beckoned them to take back their seats. 

“No worries everyone, daddy’s got this all in the bag.” Remus chuckled, helping Y/N up.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly at how casual Remus was and Sirius coughed into his glass of wine, muttering something similar to “get a room”.

Remus helped Y/N up the stairs and quickly walked to the bed to prop up the pillows in the way she liked.

“Here we are, love.” He said, taking her arm and helping her get on. “There we go.”

He summoned the garbage can from across the room with a wave of his hand. “I’ll leave this close-by, just in case yeah?”

Y/N nodded, breathing deeply as she clutched her chest. “Thanks. I ate too much.”

“That’s alright.” Remus whispered, taking a seat on the bed beside her and pressing the back of his hand on her forehead just to make sure she wasn’t actually sick.

There was a knock on the door, and Harry walked in.

“Er, sorry to interrupt. I brought a cup of ginger tea, if that may help with your nausea.”

Y/N grinned, “Aw, thank you Harry.”

She patted his arm as he set the mug on her bedside table. “Rem, go back down, I’ll be fine here.”

“You sure?” Remus looked at her sincerely.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mon. Go with Harry.”

“Okay…” He said, placing a kiss atop of her head. “Call if you need anything.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She smiled. She waved her wand to summon her book, and to close the door behind them as they exited.

Back downstairs at the dining table, Remus was wolfing down the rest of his plate.

“Blimey, are you eating for two as well, mate?” George jested.

Remus chuckled through a mouthful and said once he swallowed, “No, I just wanna get back to Y/N as quickly as possible.”

+

Y/N stirred in her sleep, eyes fluttering open as consciousness took over her. She was crying.

Remus felt her move in his arms and slowly awoke as well, peeking one eye open. Y/N whimpered slightly, pouting.

“My love…” He whispered, reaching over and brushing his thumb over her tears. “Why are you crying?!”

“Just had a dream that we were all together again.”

Remus’ face fell slightly. He pulled her to him and cradled her head. “We all will be. Soon, I promise.”

Y/N sniffled.

“And if that dream is accurate, I’m gonna be nauseous around 6 months. And have acid reflux.”

Remus chuckled.

“It’s not funny!” She said, lifting off him and punching him.

“I know, I know!” Remus said, beckoning her to come back to him. “Your body is going through the most magical thing there is in the world. I cannot believe how amazing you are. It’ll get hard, but I promise you with everything that I am that I will be here for you. You won’t have to lift a finger.”

Y/N smiled into his arm. 

“Wanna reread Sirius’ latest?”

Y/N nodded. Remus leaned over the bedside table with a languid stretch.

The letter read;

Dear Remus and Y/N,

How’s little cub doing? And mum and dad of course. ;) 

I’m more North now. Weather’s a bitch, but we found the sweetest empty inn to stay in here. Buckbeak’s been happy with it too.

Don’t forget Harry’s birthday is the 31st of this month. I’ve found a pretty lowkey bakery here, I’m gonna try to send him a cake. Poor fellow, it’ll have been weeks he’s stuck with his aunt and uncle. He writes that he’ll be going to the World Cup though with the Weasleys. Lucky fuck.

That’s all that’s new with me. Let me know how you two are doing. I miss you both, my old friends.

Padfoot

+

Later on in the day, Remus and Y/N had gotten themselves to work. The plan was initially to bake Harry a cake for his birthday and mail it to him, but the list quickly expanded to an array of sandwiches, pastries and assorted snacks they knew he liked.

“Am I doing this right, love?” Remus said, bent over the stove as he watched over a pot of cream.

“Mhm hmm”, Y/N said, giving her wand a twirl and the heat under the pot lowered itself a notch. “Just don’t burn it.”

Once the cream had come to a boil, Remus took it within his hands, bouncing slightly as the oven mitts he had on were not robust enough to block all the heat.

Y/N snickered from her seat. “You know you’re a wizard right? You can levitate the goddamn bowl.”

“Yes, but then we’d never have an occasion to wear these.” Remus said, lifting both hands and showing the oven mitts that had small embroidered kittens on them.

“Wait, wait, stay like that.” Y/N got up quickly, running to the room and grabbing the camera to snap a picture of him like that. “Lovely.” She smiled to herself as the picture printed upon the magical film.

“Right, so ganache done, muffins are in the basket already, sausage rolls—“

Remus looked over at the table where they had prepared 9 sausage rolls only to find 2 and half missing.

Y/N swallowed and grinned at him innocently. “I think that stray dog from down the street came in… Besides, he will do fine with 6. Half a dozen, it has a good ring to them.” She muttered sheepishly, packaging them all.

“Gimme a kiss.” Remus said, walking over to her.

“Aw,” Y/N simpered as Remus grabbed both her cheeks, lowering his face down onto hers.

“Your breath is full of sausage roll, you cheeky liar!” Remus pulled away in triumph.

“The baby wants them!!!” Y/N pouted, folding her arms over her chest.

Remus chuckled, leaning down to properly plant a kiss on her.

“Rem..?” Y/N mumbled shyly.

“Yes pup?” He said, pressing his ear against her lips.

“The baby wants caramel ice cream too…”

+

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! We hope you have an amazing one, although we know you might not be exactly where you want to be. We’ve read your hungry letters and hope you’ll appreciate what this owl can carry from our kitchen; we’ve tried to make all your favourites. 

Sirius tells us you will be going to watch the World Cup with the Weasleys soon! How amazing! Have the best time. I’m quite jealous, if I wasn’t on maternity leave I would have definitely picked up a shift with the Obliviator squad to try to sneak in for free.

We are doing well. Keep writing us and keeping us updated with how you’re doing.

We love you,

Y/N and Remus

Hi Harry, this is Remus as you can probably tell by the handwriting change. Just want to tell you I made 9 sausage rolls but Y/N is the reason you are only getting 6.

I’M PREGNANT! -Y/N

+

Remus’ dreams were weird that night. At first, they were of 4 boys aboard what seemed like the Hogwarts Express, absolutely wreaking havoc upon their compartment.

“Padfoot, catch!” James yelled, throwing a handful of jelly beans at Sirius’ face.

“You bastard, throw me ONE at a time!” The long-haired boy bellowed, jumping upon his friend.  

“Sit the fuck down!” Remus said through his tears of laughter. 

“Right, he’s a Prefect now,” Sirius said, straightening up mockingly. “Here Moons, there’s a flavour you’d like by the way.”

He tossed him a red jelly bean, which Remus ate and winced at the flavour.

“Raw steak!” Sirius howled with laughter, slapping his knee in delight at his own joke.

James patted him on the back, “That’s ROUGH mate, here have a square of this,” and he handed his friend a brick of chocolate.

Suddenly, the scene changed and Remus found himself alone in the compartment. And it was dark, and rainy outside. And extremely cold. He was taller. The case in front of him now had “Professor R. J. Lupin” stamped on it in peeling letters. It was freezing, and he felt himself begin shivering until…

The compartment door burst open and in came Ron, Hermione and Harry.

“Pretty good stash this year!” Ron said happily, splaying out the mass of sweets they had just bought from the trolley.

Harry took a seat beside Lupin and grinned up at him. Hermione sat down across from him and picked up his annotated textbook.

The compartment was warm and now full of yellow light. It shined from the door and Remus got up to close it, when suddenly he found himself walking into his own kitchen.

Y/N turned in her seat, and smiled at him. “Tea?” She said. She poured him a cup with one hand while the other caressed her very protuberating pregnant belly.

Remus looked behind him confusedly. The train was now small and pulling away. He looked back at the kitchen table.

“Thanks love,” he said, and he took a seat.

+

Remus woke with a stir and half expected to already be in the kitchen. But no, he was tucked safely in bed, and to his left, was Y/N sound asleep, snoring slightly.

He glanced at her belly under the covers, and it was nowhere as big as it was in the dream. Yet.

Slumping back down on his pillow, he turned to the side and laid a hand on Y/N’s stomach tenderly. And he blissfully fell back asleep.

#charmed #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #professor lupin x reader #prisoner of azkaban

[tomtenadia]

Detours to You - 30

Hello..

Here we are...this is the next to last chapter.

MASTERLIST

“Our son, he is coming.”

Rowan hung up and set the car in motion. His heart raced. He was about to become a dad. A ray of light in a very dark day.

Due to a hefty section of the city centre being closed, the traffic was now hellish and progress slowly. His phone rang again and he activated it via the bluetooth command on his wheel “Ae?”

“Where are you?” She sounded better and he relaxed.

“Stuck in traffic but coming. How are you?”

“In a fuckload of pain, but our boy is fine.”

“How far along?”

“Doc says six centimetres, you still have time, chief.”

“I think I know a shortcut, I will see you soon. Love you.”

His job had him driving a lot around the city and with time he had learned a lot of shortcuts. And this one allowed him to arrive at the hospital in a shorter time than anticipated. 

At the hospital he bolted out of the car and ran for the maternity ward. At the reception the charge nurse gave him a glare and then he realised why. He was a mess, his face still dirty, same for his hands and neck. Of course they did not want him in such state in a place where there were newborns. He ran back to his car where he kept a change of uniform and then used one of the bathroom to get cleaned up and a bit more presentable. His hair was still darker then usual but he just placed his head under the sink and hoped for the best tying his hair in a man-bun.

Finally he got to Aelin’s room and saw her sitting on a yoga ball, with an IV attached her hand and Lys and Elide keeping her company.

“You are here.”

He kneeled and kissed her.

“You stink of smoke.”

Rowan let out a chuckle “I only had time to change in the hospital bathroom. This requires a shower.” He then turned to Elide “Lorcan is fine, but I would go home to him, this call was a lot for everyone.”

Elide looked at Aelin and she nodded “Go, I am fine, Rowan is here,” she turned to Lys “you too. Go home, relax. We will call you when you are an aunt.”

When they were alone, Rowan sat on the chair opposite to her and Aelin noticed the deep wariness in the lines on his face “we called my parents and your mum and Maya is with her.”

“How are you?” He caressed her face.

“This ball is amazing and it’s helping with some of the pain.”

Rowan moved at her back and started massaging the spot that he knew she loved. The sounds that left Aelin’s mouth were not for a public audience.

“Fireheart, they might think we are having sex.”

A grin spread on her face “an orgasm releases the happy hormone that might help my pain.”

Rowan’s ears turned red “Aelin I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“Squeeze a boob? I know you love them.”

He sighed and kneeled behind her and his arm sneaked around her waist holding the belly. His mouth traced lazy circles on her neck and nibbled at her favourite spot behind the ear. She leaned back against him, then his hand travelled up and cupped a breast hiding under the hospital gown and Aelin moaned.

He then smacked a kiss on her neck and stood “I am starving, am I okay if I go downstairs and grab something? I have not eaten since this morning.”

Aelin stood and wore her gown “I am coming too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Walking is good.” She grabbed her IV and attached it to the carrier then grabbed his arm and slowly they walked down to the cafeteria.

Aelin snacked on some of his fries and inhaled the scent of coffee. She missed it.

By the time they got back to the room they were both exhausted. Rowan collapsed heavily on the chair and Aelin covered him with a blanket “rest a bit, you had a long day.”

“I can’t.”

“You will hear me screaming when it’s time, I am sure.”

But Rowan never managed to fall asleep. He brought the chair closer to the bed, grabbed her hand and placed it on his heart. He told her what happened, he felt bad at spoiling her day with such a sad story but he needed to unburden his soul. He needed her. 

It was in the middle of the night when she patted his hand nervously “Rowan…”

“What is it?”

“He is coming.”

He ran outside and called for the doctor who, after a few checks, confirmed that yes, Aelin was ten centimetres and ready to deliver. He followed to the delivery room and was given a set of scrubs to wear on his clothes and then stood at her side “I am here, fireheart.” He kissed her forehead while she screamed in pain.

The doctor moved in-between her legs and told her that the baby was already crowning.

“Chief, come and see your son.”

Rowan stared at Aelin and she nodded so he moved and gasped when he saw the head.

“I can see him, fireheart.”

Aelin pushed and pushed and Rowan watched his son slowly be born.

The doctor took the infant away and he walked back to an exhausted Aelin “you are amazing,” a kiss “Aelin that was…”

“Buzzard, are you crying?”

He shrugged “he is here.” 

She looked up at him and her heart melted at seeing him weep.

In the distance they heard the infant cry “that is a good sign.”

A moment later the nurse placed the bundle in Aelin’s arms and Rowan sat at her side “he’s beautiful.”

“And still a bit gross.” Aelin kissed the baby’s head “we do good babies, Whitethorn.”

“Wonder if he has your eyes.”

“I read it will take a while before it settles,” he added using the info he had read in all of his babies books.

“Maya was a shade of green already at birth and then it settled in you pine green.”

As if he heard them, their son opened his eyes and looked up “they are quite light. Hopefully they will be blue.”

Rowan kissed her head “anything, my love.”

“Do you want to go to your dad?” She passed him the baby and Rowan’s heart raced. He had missed all of that with Maya, but now he was going to be present in all the milestones of his son. Witnessing his first moments had been the experience of a lifetime.

“Hi you, I am your dad.”

Aelin stared at Rowan talking to their son and felt emotions well up at the image. Rowan was meant to be a dad.

He walked back and passed the child back “I am not supposed to take him away from you too long, skin on skin with the mother is important.”

Aelin took his hand “the father too.”

The nurse joined them a moment later, “have we settled on a name?

“Thomas,” said Rowan.

“Thomas, Alasdair Whitethorn-Galathynius.”added Aelin.

Rowan stared at her in disbelief.

“And I have the documents ready to change Maya’s surname legally to Whitethorn-Galathynius too.”

“I love you.” Was all that Rowan managed.

*

Once Aelin was back in her room, Rowan had started the round of calls and to fill his phone with his son’s pictures.

His mother with Maya and the Galathynius had been the first visitors. 

Maya stormed in the room claiming that she was a big sister and wanted to see her brother. Rowan removed her shoes and placed her on the bed “Maya, meet Thomas.”

“Thomas, meet your big sister Maya.”

The girl leaned forward and kissed the boy “mama he smells nice.”

“Do you want to hold him?” Maya looked at her father in surprise.

Rowan moved behind her “sit down properly on the bed,” he helped her and showed her how to bend her arms and then he passed her her brother, always keeping a hand nearby to hover.

His mum stared at the image in front of her and took pictures at the same time.

Rowan looked at her and he knew where her thoughts had gone, because he was thinking about the same thing. His father should have been there to witness that moment and all of a sudden the pain of his loss came back for a brief visit. But luckily his daughter’s squeals of happiness brought him back.

Rowan then took his son from his sister’s arms and walked to his mother “mum, please meet Thomas Alasdair.”

A sob escaped Eiddwen’s lips and took her grandson “hello, mo chridhe. I am your grandma and I will love you so very much.”

The Galathynius arrived later “sorry it took us so long, the traffic is a nightmare.”

And Rowan for a moment remembered why and darkness threatened to resurfaced but as he stared at his son and daughter he managed to push the pain away.

“It might be a while before it gets fixed.” He added flatly and Aelin grabbed his hand.

“Is this our grandson?”

“Nana have you seen my brother?”

Evalin and Rhoe moved to Aelin “oh he is gorgeous.” She took him from his mother hands and cooed at the baby “and what’s your name, my love?”

“Thomas Alasdair,” added Rowan proudly and Evalin stared at both of them “it’s perfect.”

“Have you told Lys and Elide?”

Rowan lifted his phone and showed the video of Lys dancing in the living room and celebrating being an aunt.

Aelin and Rowan enjoyed the celebrations until the nurse took their son away claiming that it was time for his nap. Maya protested saying that she wanted to stay with her brother but they had to explain her that he was very little and had to rest.

Eventually they left and Eiddwen took Maya with her.

Rowan remained behind and sat on Aelin’s bed and she caressed his face “you should go home too, you are tired.” His forehead leaned against hers “No, I am staying.”

“Ro, please, I need you fully rested. We have two kids now.”

He chuckled “Okay, but I am back tomorrow morning.”

“We will be waiting for you.”

Rowan kissed her deeply “I love you. You are my everything, Aelin. You and our two children.”

Aelin pulled him closer. She could feel his residual pain and it broke her heart than on such a joyous days he could not be fully happy “you make me happy too, chief.”

Rowan gave her a last kiss and stood.

“Drive safe, please.”

He nodded and left.

The drive home had taken a while. He had received a call from the commissioner explaining that during overhaul they had discovered water infiltrations that had weakened the structure in the long run and the vibrations of the rails had worsened the structure. It had been a disaster waiting to happen and now an investigation had been opened. 

Rowan finally got home. In the house he took in the unusual silence and it upset him. He was now so used to constantly hear the voices of his girls that the silence brought him back to a time when he was alone. Slowly, he climbed upstairs and got changed, then he dragged his tired body in Maya’s room and stared at it. The were some clothes abandoned on the bed so he placed away and then a chuckle left him when he spotted a skate peeking out from under the bed. Rowan grabbed her hockey kit and stored it away. He and Aelin had been trying hard to teach her to be tidy, but in that sense Maya was just as messy as her mum. With a smile on his face he finished clearing up and then he left, closing the door behind him. 

A few steps down the corridor and Rowan reached a new room waiting for them. He had finished it just a few weeks before. They had gone for a pastel green theme. The crib had a mobile hanging over it with fairy creatures attached to it. Maya had chosen it. He took out his phone and stared at some of the pictures of his son and his heart swelled with love. It had taken a while but he was finally on track to have the family he had dreamt and at his side the love of his life.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn  @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127 @mariaofdoranelle

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowanwhitethorn #throne of glass fanfiction #domestic fluff #rowaelinkids

[sizzleporkandmmm]

Mornings Like These | Jake Kiszka x GN!Reader

Warnings: none, pure fluff || Words: 716

You and jake share a quiet morning together.

-

You blinked the sleep from your eyes, rolling over to see Jake still bundled up in the covers, his long dark hair askew. You sighed, letting a gentle smile spread across your face. You sat up, peering towards the large window adjacent to your shared bed, the sun streaming in, casting a soft glow against the features of the room.

These were your favorite kinds of mornings, when you wake up before Jake and can watch the way the stress fades from his face as he sleeps. He was always so stressed about the tour, wanting it to be perfect, and you appreciated the moments where he could be calm, quiet, and let the lines relax from his face.

Moments pass, and you relish in the peace of the morning, while Jake starts to shift. Turning over, he gives you a lazy smile, eyes half lidded, feature soft. “G’morning beautiful.” He mumbles before lifting up to place a sweet kiss on your lips. You rest your palm against his cheek, “Morning baby, what do you want to do today?” you ask, keeping your voice soft to break the quiet ambience of the morning. He flops back onto his pillows, letting out a hum, “How about… We stay in bed, and you let me hold you.” He says, before moving to bury his face in your neck, you let out a surprised laugh at the soft kisses he leaves there, loving the way his arms feel around your waist.

"Well, if that’s what you really want,” You giggle out, wrapping your arms around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. You lay there, holding each other for who knows how long, savoring the feeling of being in each other's arms.

The quiet morning is ruined by a loud grumble from Jake’s stomach, forcing laughter from the both of you. You sit up, pushing your hair into somewhat of a cohesive style, before stretching until you get a satisfying pop from your back. You sigh, casting a glance at Jake, who's buried himself under the covers again. You pat the man-shaped lump in the bed as you stand, “C’mon babe, I’ll make you breakfast,” You say, leaving the room and walking towards the kitchen. Jake followed close behind, not bothering to fix his behead.

He flops down onto a chair at the kitchen table, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You rummage around the kitchen, grabbing two bowls from the cabinet, pouring the cereal and filling the bowl with milk. You cross, placing Jake’s bowl in front of him, “Your favorite, my specialty, Cinnamon toast crunch,” you laugh, sitting down in your own chair across from him. You watch as he loads an obscene amount of cereal onto his spoon, shoveling it into his mouth all at once. “This is great babe,” He says, words garbled from the food, milk dripping down his chin. You scoff at him, wrinkling your nose at his habits, “Ew, Jake.” You laugh, before taking your own bite, he pulls a face at you, making you snort, effectively shooting cereal milk out of your nose.

You laugh, coughing and sputtering on the meal, trying to catch your breath as Jake cackles at you. “You should’ve seen your face!” He squeals between laughs, he slams his hand down on the table as he calms down. “Sorry, that was great, y/n, truly.” He cries, wiping fake tears from his eyes. You shake your head at him, wiping the stray milk from your face.

You grimace, “Cinnamon toast crunch doesn’t taste as good when it’s coming out your nose,” this causes Jake to start laughing all over again, you ignore him and finish your cereal before it kills you.

As Jake eats, you reach your hand across the table, feeling his hand slide into yours. “I love mornings like these,” you say, looking at him with all the adoration you can muster, hoping your expression get across your true feelings. “I love them, almost as much as I love you,” He says, smile cheesy and full of joy. You purse your lips at him, “you’re such a sap,”

“I guess that's why you stick around, huh?”

You roll your eyes at his dad joke, you’ll never get tired of mornings like these

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake greta van fleet #jake kiszka #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiska fic #jake gvf #fluff #jake kiszka fluff

[yshi888]

i long for him so badly :(

#t/naruto #uchiha obito #i need him #i want to hold him close and pat his head #🤕