#some stubborn hair strands are still sticking out

[elexaria]

dating simon riley wasn’t always easy. “i’m a bloody nutcase, eh?” he’d joke when he’d wake up in a cold sweat, taking deep breaths as his calloused thumb rasps against the soft cotton bedsheets, grounding him back to reality. “puts all my efforts to shame when i wake up like this. fuck’s sake.”

therapy is mandatory, especially given his role as lieutenant. the traumas of childhood, the torture. he thinks he’s good at dealing with his problems, thinks therapy is a waste of time. “what, it’s just a bloke sat there starin’ at me? hell, get me a piece of paper with some made up degree on it and even i could be a therapist.” he grumbles after you point out that, in fact, he’s not as good as coping with his trauma as he thinks he is.

“you need to actually give this a go, si. it’s..” you pause, biting the inside of your lip as you make breakfast. his hair is disheveled, wry strands of grey sticking up against the grain. his dark circles only exemplify just how tired he is, especially when he has his night terrors. you shake your head, sighing as you crack another egg into the frying pan. “how can i expect you to stay safe out there when you’re barely able to look after yourself when you’re home?” you sigh out as he grunts, taking a seat at the small dining table, his eyes skimming through the morning paper.

god, he’s such a stubborn bastard. it takes months to get him to at least consider finding a new therapist, to get him to actually care about his mental health. christ, if he can’t do it for himself, can’t he at least try for your sake?

and then, it’s like he has a lightbulb moment. you come home after a long day at work, only to find him sat at the dining table, writing scruffy notes in a ring bound notebook. “mission notes?” you ask curiously, keeping your eye on him as you make yourself a cup of tea. he grunts, shaking his head as he continues to write.

“it’s a diary. supposed to help with your mental health or summet.” he replies, settling his pen down to meet your gaze. you must have had a look of confusion on your face, and it makes the corners of his lips twitch up into a half-smile. “yeah, i know. a bloke like me with a diary, like i’m a bloody teenage girl.” he quips, now grinning as his fingers toy with the corners of the notebook. “writin’ about all the boys i fancy on the field.” he shoots a wink, before continuing to write some more in his notebook.

it’s actually surprising, a smile on your lips as you watch him in his own little world, actually making an effort in his mental health recovery. you come over, settling a warm cup of tea by him before pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of his head, still smiling as you make your way upstairs to give him some privacy. he comes upstairs after half an hour, chucking the diary into his bedside table drawer before sprawling out onto the bed obnoxiously with a deafening groan. you whine and complain when he purposely stretches on you, gently crushing you with his bolder-esque shoulders with a massive grin on his face.

there were still bad days, though. days where he’d hide himself in the garage to work on some of his projects. but you’re both trying, he feels his heart break when you gently knock on the door, holding a plate of snacks and a cup of tea for him, and fuck, it makes his bad day slightly better.

that evening, he curls up besides you silently on the couch, his journal and pen in hand as he clears his throat. you curiously peer down as he begins to flick through the pages of chicken scratch, gently tapping the page as he looks up at you. he clears his throat, and begins to read out the sweetest paragraph, one that makes your eyes well up with tears.

“no idea where i would be without you, love. you make the darkest days of my life brighter than ever. you make life worth it.” he ends his speech , the timbre of his voice cracking with emotion as he looks at you. and right there, you know that through all the trials and tribulations you two will go through, you’re the love of simon riley’s life and he would never let you forget that.

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley

[clairdelunelove]

itadori yuuji is the type to believe that giving his girlfriend "princess treatment" is the bare minimum

yuuji who, upon getting a glimpse of the gloomy sky, will immediately shed his jacket to give it to you. he genuinely checks the weather app on his phone just for you. actually, it doesn’t even matter if the weather is terribly stormy or rainy– if he glances out the window and sees the trees swaying from the wind then he’s handing you his jacket. call him dramatic but he doesn’t want his girl to be cold! can’t fathom the thought of how inconsiderate he’d be if he just let you waltz in the frigid air and become sick. just the idea of that happening to you has him nauseated. and if you sheepishly decline, murmuring a worried excuse that he’ll be cold and whatnot, then he’s got a couple tricks up his sleeve! “got this new jacket over the weekend,” he’ll casually bring up while the two of you are walking together, “it’s really soft on the inside! here, wear it and lemme know!” and before you know it, you’re bundled up in his jacket and he’s zipping it up for you with the sweetest smile on his face. just continuously dotes on you in the ways that count. and on the rare occasion where it’s pouring rain outside while the two of you are together, he’s surprisingly prepared. has a travel-sized umbrella tucked away in his pocket for this situation. it sometimes stuns you at how well he plans anything that revolves around you; once, he jokingly mentioned how his brain works overtime whenever he’s with you. “I’m, like, actually thinking when you’re around me, yanno,” he muses and the seriousness in his voice always pulls a giggle from you. he’s in charge of holding the umbrella over the both of you but because of the size, his uncovered shoulder is usually drenched by the end of it. tries to change the subject if you notice. “hey, that small shop is selling figurines!” “they had them last week, yuu.” not to mention that half a week later he definitely gets sick from being in the rain for too long but he won’t admit it because he’s stubborn. also, during the stormy season, he’s the type to advise you to wait under some cover so he can get the car. will guide you to a brightly lit spot on the sidewalk so you can safely wait for him. “wait here for me!” he calls over his shoulder and hurriedly jogs to where he last parked the car. yuuji is especially precarious in these situations. scrambles out of the car to open the door and carefully help you in. even if he’s moving quickly, his actions are always so delicate towards you. buckles your seatbelt while pressing a soft kiss on your cheek and, in the process, doesn't bother to protect himself from the rain. ends up with his pink hair sticking to his forehead, weighed down from water droplets, and you’re instinctively brushing it away from his eyes. and when you pull away, he considers that it’s worth it. so even if the chilly weather numbs your fingertips, you’re warm from the amount of effort yuuji goes through to ensure that you’re alright.

yuuji who vigilantly guides you through crowded places so you can have the best view. is aware that you become a bit anxious due to the amount of restless people that are rushing and swarming to their destination. and yes, you acknowledge that everyone has their reasons but it still causes you to panic. yuuji has a foolproof plan for the date to go well, though. he typically opts to whisper sweet nothings in your ear while leading you through the crowd. “gosh,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and leans beside you, “today's almost as beautiful as you are.” and the way his voice is reduced to a dreamy sigh is incredibly charming. makes your heart flip and your palms sweaty. you’re awestruck at how thoughtful he is and he’s so careful about directing you through the crowd. has a steady arm wrapped around your waist as he eagerly points to the direction where the fireworks are being set off. it’s a beautiful evening. hues of burnt orange and titian paint the sky, a perfect backdrop for the event that caused onlookers to buzz in excitement. but yuuji’s gaze never leaves yours. watchful for the possibility of someone standing too close to you. he will deliberately jab an elbow and warn them with a, “watch it, man. almost knocked my girl over.”  but then he’s back to being your good-natured boyfriend. angles towards you with a considerably soft glimmer in his eyes when you tug him closer. he’s always beside you, never straying too far away from you– he couldn’t. even if the world tried to pry you from his arms, he’d raise havoc. that’s the type of person yuuji is. and his touch makes you feel so secure– safe. just a comforting weight around your waist as he gently guides you along. unfortunately, the event was more popular than you expected. you can’t see a thing, regardless of whether you teetered on the tips of your toes or not. a frown pulls at your lips and disappointment rushes through you because it had been your idea to spend the night here. better luck next time, you supposed. but as you turn to break the news to the blushy haired male, he’s speaking up. “hop on my back so you can see better!” and before you can retort, he’s dropping to his knees and motioning for you to get on. “hurry! they’re starting!” nudging you onto his back, yuuji easily maneuvers to give you a piggyback ride in hopes of providing you a better view of where they’re manually lighting the fireworks. while you’re squealing at the sudden change of position, he takes the time to smooth a courteous hand over the folds of your clothes and chuckles at your genuine shock. “better, right?” he asks. and he’s so brawny that the action is a breeze. you readjust your hold on his shoulders despite how flustered you are by how effortless it is for him to carry you, “it is! I can see now!” and when you press a sticky kiss on his cheek, he’s in bliss. likes the mark of gloss and lipstick that you leave behind. won’t wipe it off even if he gets teased for it later on. “only the best seat in the house for the best girl in the world,” he declares as your warmth emanates onto him and the sky is streaked in prismatic fireworks.

yuuji who wordlessly reaches out to shoulder any grocery/shopping bag that dangles in your grasp. for instance, if you’re on a little weekend date at the nearby plaza and the two of you are browsing then he’s full-on excited. his honeyed eyes light up whenever he recognizes the billboard of your favorite shop and he immediately knows that this’ll be a great day. adores shopping with you! sure, a couple of the customers might cast a strange glance at him whenever he pleads for you to try on clothes that he suggests. “please? I haven’t seen you in this color,” yuuji says, not bothering to hide the desperation in his voice despite the close proximity of a store employee, “I’ll pay for it! my treat!” and he gets a bit dizzy while imagining you in all the frills and lace. just pretty, delicate fabric sitting on your soft skin that causes his fantasies to run wild. but he can’t be blamed! you’re drop-dead gorgeous to him! and if you lack self-confidence in how you look then don’t worry. yuuji’s perfect at reassuring you that you’re beautiful and he firmly reminds you that people are meant to wear clothes– not the other way around. eventually, his utter devotion to you eases your worries so it’s a huge win for him. loves that you trust him enough to let him decide on what you should buy! and once (yuuji) the both of you are finished paying and the retail employee hands you the heap of bags, you’re bracing yourself to carry them. because they’re all filled to the brim with clothes meant for you. but don’t even think about touching them! yuuji’s strong, calloused hands instinctively pluck them away from you. he balances the heavy load on a single, broad shoulder and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto yours. and, surprisingly, he’s silent during the whole ordeal. like holding your bags was part of his duty of being your boyfriend. if you ask him his reasoning for it then he’ll shoot you a cheeky grin and chirp, “it’s easier to hold your hand like this!” and when he had first done this, you rationalized that this seemingly small yet significant gesture would be forgotten the more your relationship with him blossomed. nope. if anything, it’s gotten more apparent. the blushy haired male will even carry your purse around if you allow him to! never bats an eye to the quizzical stares or mocking laughs that he gets from it. he holds a certain standard for himself in regards to your relationship with him. and in all seriousness, he just wishes to alleviate the burden and inconvenience for you– no matter how meager it is.

#jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuji jjk #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

[potofstewie]

The Mechanic

The Lowdown: All you wanted was to get your tire fixed on this hot summer day...and maybe a lil something extra to beat the heat. Luckily, your trusty mechanic Haganezuka Hotaru knows just what you need.

The things to know: AFAB!Reader, chubby!Reader, Blackfem!Reader, Teasing, both Reader and Hotaru are in their late twenties, hair pulling (m. receiving), domish!Hotaru, choking, missionary, body worship, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, overstimulation, attempted murder

Pairing: Mechanic!Haganezuka x Reader

W/C: 4.2K

A/N: This was, a 4-month struggle. Motivation was at an all time low, went on hiatus, reblogs were/still are scarce and I was in the lows. But then I said "you know what, my babies need to eat. I have to do what I have to do to make sure we eat." So I popped my pussy on this because as a mother I make sure my babies are fed their fanfiction. This fic was inspired by the above panel from GANSTA. ANYWAY ENJOY MWUAH

“Hey, Haganezuka!” 

You lifted your gaze towards an annoyed Kanamori who stood in the doorway of the mechanic shop. “It’s 97° right now! I’m leaving for the day so take a break, you hear Haganezuka?! That goes for you too, y/n! Don’t be a stubborn idiot like him!” He nagged before retreating into the air conditioned shop, not caring to wait on a reaction from the two of you. A soft sigh left your glossed lips as you gazed upwards into the cloudless summer sky, the sun harshly beating down upon the earth. All you wanted to do was get your tire changed but alas, Hotaru Haganezuka had other plans.

You had to agree with Kanamori, it was way too hot to be outside. Especially when you’re standing in a shadeless mechanic lot watching the very man that insisted on doing every little thing possible to your car from checking the oil to changing the battery. “Don’t be an idiot, a mechanic must always check these things! Just leave it to me!” Is what he proclaimed, arguing that you should be grateful that he was willing to do so much on the spot. Contemplating Kanamori’s demand, you looked back down at Hotaru, working in a silent frenzy as he changed your battery. 

You couldn’t tell if it was due to the heat or your emotions, but you felt your cheeks burn as you watched him. You didn’t mind admitting it, Hotaru was a bit of a looker; especially now. His long black hair had been tied back in a bun, loose strands sticking out and some on his forehead while his thick sharp-angled eyebrows furrowed in concentration. A black t-shirt rested on the back of his neck leaving his muscled torso exposed to the sweltering heat; the top part of his mechanics jumpsuit tied around his waist. Wiping the sweat off your chest with your tank top, you watched in silent awe as a single trail of sweat ran down his arm; bicep flexing with every crank of the ratchet. 

“Aren’t you gonna go inside?” You asked, watching his glove covered hands work with practiced movements. You stopped yourself from sighing as the image of his fingers rapidly pumping into your sopping pussy entered your mind. Instinctively gripping the bottom of your shorts, you tried to keep yourself in check, pussy squeezing at nothing but disappointing air. For about a year now you’ve had a thing for Hotaru. However, with his stand-off nature and how busy he was, it was a bit difficult to get closer with him on a more personal level. 

A throb rang inside you as you watched Hotaru slowly stand at his full height, leaning back slightly as desired hands held the old battery. “I’m busy. Why don’t you go in?” He wiped a few strands of hair away from his forehead as he set down the battery and picked up the new one, his sharp hazel eyes side-eyeing you from a half-lidded gaze. “It’s not like you’re doing anything. You’re just torturing yourself with this damn heat.” And with his last word, he leaned back into the engine, eyes focusing on the task at hand. 

You wiped your sweat covered palms on your shorts as you looked towards the street. Despite the heat being troublesome, people still walked around, loud music blaring from passing cars. “You know I only came here to get my tire changed. If anything, you’re the one torturing yourself with all this extra stuff.” You retorted, settling your gaze back to the man next to you as you crossed your arms.

“You should be glad I’m doing this at all. For free, no less.” He mumbled, wagging the ratchet in your direction. You played with the hem of your tank top as Hotaru grabbed his shirt and wiped his face, dark eyes fixated on your plush thighs that soaked in the sunlight, giving them a delectable glow. He softly exhaled as he eyed the bit of fat that spilled from your shorts, the fabric being a little tight on your thighs. He’d give anything to touch your thighs, to have them encase his head as he sucked on your sensitive bud and licked at your drenched folds. To feel your thighs wrap around his waist as he pounded into your tight cunt relentlessly.

“Why for free? Not that I’m complaining.” You inquired, desperately hoping to get a full conversation out of the asocial man while snapping him out of his lewd thoughts. If the conversation wasn’t about cars or the neighborhood kid Tanjiro that accidentally destroyed his prized motorcycle that one time, Hotaru would be a clam. With a sigh, he closed the hood before facing you, finally finished with his self assigned work and leaned on the side of the car.

“Think of it as a one time deal, you are a valued customer after all.” He answered plainly, trying his hardest not to watch a sweat drop disappear down your cleavage. You hummed at his answer, curious eyes traveling across the prominent veins in his crossed forearms. You envisioned his work worn fingers encasing your throat, his words almost going out one ear. “However, I wouldn’t mind some dango as payment.” 

“Just..dango?” You stepped closer to him, confidence flowing through your veins. Maybe it was the heat getting to you or the boredom of doing nothing except standing around, you didn’t know exactly what came over you. But you hoped that maybe he too was on the same page. You couldn’t be any more right. With the ghost of a smirk, Hotaru uncrossed his arms and closed the gap between you both, the smell of his cologne wafting into your nose. You felt immense heat rise to your cheeks as he slowly took off a glove, one by one pulling it from his fingers, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“You got something better?” One glove off, the other to go. You bit your bottom lip slightly as you nodded, your cherry flavored lip gloss enchanting him. With his pointer finger and thumb loose in his glove, Hotaru scoffed, happy about the new direction the day was taking. “You wanna show me, pretty girl?” With a quick tug, he finally took off his glove and shoved them in his back pocket before quickly pulling you closer, evoking a soft gasp from your lips. As a soft hum rumbled from his chest, his rough hands found refuge on your soft and plump ass; rubbing it in slow, small circles with slight pressure from the base of his palms as if he was a masseuse. 

“But, we’re out in public..” You said slowly, trying to remind him of where the two of you were but you couldn’t help but stare deeply into his lust filled eyes, his gaze slowly lowering to your agape lips. With an answering hum, Hotaru squeezed your ass slightly before placing his thumb under the hem of your shorts, the digit rubbing the lace on your underwear. 

“So?” He said simply, thumb and finger lightly tilting your chin up as he inched his lips closer to yours. “Let ‘em watch.” And with a short exhale, his soft lips crashed with yours; your lip gloss making its sticky mark on him. A soft moan escaped your throat as his tongue swiped at your bottom lip; asking for permission. You felt another, more harsh, squeeze on your ass as you caved in and gave him entry, his tongue immediately exploring and dancing with your own. The warmth of his velvet lips did nothing but cause you to sink further into the addictive feeling of lust that overwhelmed your senses. You were caught in a mind numbing daze as Hotaru finally pulled back from the intense kiss, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. 

As soft pants left your messy lips, he left a small, ticklish kiss to your neck. “I don’t wanna give them an entire show..c’mon.” With a sly smile and his hands still cradling your ass, Hotaru began to walk towards the shop, forcing you to awkwardly walk backwards. A chuckle left Hotaru as he relished in the awkward position he had you in, finding enjoyment in your flustered expression. 

“Hotaru..” You pleaded, your mind buzzing with the endless things that could happen, your pussy pulsating with every step taken towards the office and light squeeze Hotaru would gift to your plump ass. Once you both crossed the threshold to the messy office, his lips immediately found yours again, lightly nipping at your bottom lip as he pushed the door closed with his foot and guiding you to the messy desk. Momentarily removing himself from the sweet taste of your lips, Hotaru wiped off all the papers that were strewn on the desk before roughly planting your ass on the width of the dark wood; eyes swimming with carnal desire. 

Rubbing his hands up and down your thighs, Hotaru left a hot kiss on your clavicle before latching on and evoking a soft moan from your mouth. Kicking off your slides as your nimble hands snaked their way up to his neck, pulling off the shirt that he left there before tangling your fingers into his dark hair. You tugged gently at his scalp as he started peppering his bites and kisses all over your chest, a low groan slowly leaving his body. Pulling away once more, his eyes zeroed in on the cute stomach pudge you had. He wanted to run his rough hands over the soft body part and be hypnotized by it. Lifting off your tank top and pulling down your bra, Hotaru dived back in for his new target, mouth latching onto your nipple, his tongue running over your dark areola.

A saccharine moan was ripped from you as you felt his teeth nip and pull at the hardened numb while his rough hands unclasped and threw your bra to the side before gently pressing on your stomach, urging you to lay back. Following his command, you could feel his hands snake even lower, fingers tugging both your shorts and panties off. On instinct you widened your legs, the cold air kissing your folds while Hotaru brought his waist closer between your legs, still preoccupied by your irresistible breasts. Placing more kisses, Hotaru trailed them upward to your neck before stopping, his thumb lightly touching your clit. You released a soft whine as his thumb slowly started to massage your clit in small circles.

As his mouth left marks upon your neck, your hand gripped his forearm as you felt his fingers slowly enter into you. Feeling a sharp canine graze your warm skin, you released a soft gasp that signaled Hotaru to pump his fingers into you slowly. Lewd noises echoing in the office with every slow draw back and hard pump his fingers did to your pussy. 

“I know you want more than this, right ma?” He teased, his pants growing tighter as he soaked in your naked body. Fingers prodding your folds and getting themselves coated in your slick only deepened Hotaru’s hunger for you, for your taste. With a slight nod, your hands found themselves fondling your breasts awaiting whatever action this man would do next.

With a deep hum, Hotaru licked his fingers clean of your nectar before trailing more of his hot kisses south. From your neck to your stomach and to the edge of your clit, his searing kisses sent tingles up your spine. As he left kisses on the inside of your thighs, you couldn’t help but squirm a bit, the anticipation killing you. “Don’t rush me, Princess. I’m getting there, just leave it to me, alright?” He spoke, his breath gently gracing your impatient cunt. With another hum, his mouth finally latched onto your pussy, an airy moan leaving your lips. Hotaru’s tongue ran itself over and between your folds that were accompanied with intervals of harsh sucking to your clit. 

Soft mewls drifted from your lips as your fingers traversed and gripped and tugged onto his black locks, undoing his bun further while your other hand kneaded and rolled one of your abandoned breasts. His rough hands held your thighs with an iron grip as you squirmed and relished in the feeling of his warm tongue gliding in between your folds, drinking in your nectar. With a final suck on your clit, Hotaru began dragging his tongue upwards on your body; stopping right in the valley of your breasts as the interesting taste of your cocoa butter lotion settled on his tongue. 

Raising himself up, Hotaru couldn’t help but be immersed in the beauty your body exuded, from the pudge of your stomach to how erect your nipples were as they battled the cold air. Muttering a low “fuck” to himself, he slowly started to undo the sleeves of his jumper that were tied to his waist and watched your once blissed face contort to one of anticipation and desperation. Hotaru knew exactly what he was doing, taking his sweet time, testing you. Seeing how far he can go with his slow, sensual movements before you snapped and pleaded with him to run his rough hands on your body once more. 

With his head tilted down and eyes looking up at your face through his dark lashes, his hands languidly freed himself from his clothing, the ghost of a smirk gracing his façade as he watched you take in the view. Your body shivered with both excitement and worry as he finally stood before you in the nude. A dark happy trail guided your curious eyes downwards to his hardened dick. In all its 8-inch glory, his hardened dick carried a bead of precum on its reddened mushroom tip; a large vein adorning its underside. With a bit lip, you watched with desire as he lined himself to your entrance but stopped abruptly, tip a mere hair breadth from your impatient and needy cunt. It was almost like a shot of molten lava coursed through your veins when your eyes angrily shot up to his face and witnessed his mouth slowly form into that of a mocking smile; mischief ladened eyes watching your reaction. 

“Are you fucking for real right now? You’re a fucking di-” Your insult was cut with a breathy inhale as you felt his cock finally enter your sopping cunt, the stretch giving you a burning yet intoxicating sensation. A shuddered breath of pleasure morphed into a low chuckle as Hotaru relished in both your reaction to his cruel teasing and to the feeling of his cock slowly being engulfed by your warm walls. His rough hands held you by your waist, eyes watching your chest shudder with each inching movement within your pussy. 

“What was that? I didn’t hear you..” Hotaru teased as your hands encased his own as his pelvis finally met with your skin. With a slow sigh, Hotaru rubbed his thumbs on your hip bones, giving you a chance to get used to his size. Giving you a chance to talk more shit. 

“C’mon, tell me what you were gonna say, I wanna know..” He mocked as he slowly drew his hips back, the feeling of his thick cock dragging along the ridges of your pussy eliciting a soft moan from you. You squeezed his fingers as you screwed your eyes shut, trying your hardest to contain your annoyance. Despite how much you hated the teasing and mocking Hotaru has been doing thus far, you couldn’t help but enjoy the throbs his cruel actions gave to your pussy. 

“I-I said you’re a fucking dick!” Your declaration ended in a squeaked out high note as Hotaru harshly thrusted into you, the desk creaking with his action of shutting you up. Choked out gasps and mewls from your gloss smeared lips interlaced with that of the creaking wood as Hotaru began his cruel treatment to your squelching pussy. Your legs quickly wrapped around his waist as your pussy finally got what it had longed for.

Admittedly, you didn’t know what you were expecting when this moment finally arrived. Yes, you had your expectations in the dark of night when your fingers occupied the warm and soft confinements of your pussy; your mind thinking nothing but how big you hoped he was, if he was either a rough and carnal lover or a slow sensual one, even if he preferred doggy over missionary. But this, ohh, this was beyond your expectations. The pulses of pleasure that emitted from your pussy and traveled throughout your nervous system, the iron grip he had on your waist, and the low grunts and groans rumbling from your favorite mechanic was nothing you expected yet all that you had dreamed for. 

An airy chuckle escaped Hotaru’s lips as he sank further into the pure bliss of his cock being squeezed by your greedy cunt, a nice coating of your cream decorating his equally pleasure hungry cock. The sight of that alone sent shockwaves throughout his body, urging him to thrust faster. Removing his bruising grip on your waist, he unwrapped your legs from his body and pushed them towards your head; work worn hands holding the backs of your knees as sweet moans fell from your mouth at the newfound depth, Hotaru swearing under his breath as he felt his tip give your cervix bruising kisses. 

“Look at all that fucking cream..acting like you can’t stand me, shit..” A rumbling groan interrupted Hotaru’s dirty mocking, the tightness of your pussy nearly sending him into a nonverbal state. “But I know that if I stopped, you’d beg for more..” Hotaru leaned forward, pressing a lopsided kiss to the side of your knee as he drank in your cock drunk expression; lidded eyes rolling back and staccato moans wavering from your agape mouth. Hotaru’s eyebrows twitched in annoyance with your lack of answer, his hips abruptly stopping as a hand encased your throat. 

“Hey, answer me. I won’t start again if I don’t get an answer.” He demanded, ignoring how your abandoned leg pitifully kicked in the air for his grasp again. Your mind was too fuzzy to properly grasp just what was going on, but a quick squeeze to your throat brought you to attention. “You gonna beg for more, mama?” The belittling question dripped from Hotaru’s mouth like honey as you whined, wiggling your waist to finish what you both started. 

“Fuck! Yes, I need you! Please, Hotaru, keep going!” At your wits end, you finally answered the man’s degrading question, body desperately craving for its release. With a satisfied low hum, Hotaru began again but faster; the desk getting louder with each harsh thrust gifted to your needy pussy. You could feel the sticky liquid your pussy oozed out pool onto the desk as Hotaru’s hands nearly folded you in half; the mechanic close to his own relief. 

A rough hand came down to your sticky and stretched pussy, thumb rubbing circles on your sensitive clit that sent bouts of pleasure through your body. Each swift movement his thumb did against your puffy bud, you couldn’t help but have your pelvis follow close behind. His thumb goes up, your hips raise. His thumb goes down, your hips follow. The intricate yet harsh dance your bodies did resounded in the dusty office, the desk crying out from all the force, warning of splintering damage.

Your mechanic was absolutely enchanted with it all. He enjoyed seeing your pussy practically be a suction cup; with each draw back your cunt seemed to hold on, practically begging him to stay inside, begging for him to keep going, begging to be painted white with his seed. “I’ll m-make you feel good..fuck, just leave it to me..” Hotaru promised before folding you even further, lips roughly melding with yours and swallowing every pathetic mewl and moan. His lips traveled to your jaw as your vision became spotted and blurry; your release approaching steadfast. 

“ ‘M gonna- ‘M gonna, fuuck, ‘M-” Your choppy declaration couldn’t leave your spit covered lips properly as each thrust interrupted you and forced you to restart your sentence. If Hotaru had half a mind, he would’ve stopped right in his tracks again and have you plead for your orgasm. Fortunately for you, his own release was nearly there, evident by his thrust getting ever so sloppy with each push into your stretched pussy. 

“Y-yeah? Gonna cum f’me baby?” His words sent a throb to your cunt, your head nodding sluggishly. A breathy chuckle left Hotaru as your hands encased his own that held onto the back of your knees. “Fuuck, you can do it baby..cum on this cock, lemme hear you..” As if on command, your body jerked. A choked, drawn out moan resounded from your mouth as your back arched up, your orgasm running its course through your body. 

You pussy contracted on his dick with every jerk your body did as you endured your powerful yet anticipated release. It felt as if you reached nirvana; bliss being the only thing coursing through your mind. Your mechanic, on the other hand, was starting to lose it. He wanted to keep going, to drag this out as much as possible, but your orgasm did nothing but foil his plan. Sweet, high and barely restrained whimpers tumbled from his lips as he basked in your contractions. 

Coming down from your high, you couldn’t help the tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation of his thrusts; Hotaru’s pathetic whimpers coaxing you to pay attention to him, to see your quick to anger, hard to understand and hard to socialize mechanic be reduced to a pitiful state as his orgasm finally arrived. 

Hotaru’s whimpers abruptly stopped as his hips staggered, only producing miniscule thrusts as his hot cum decorated your tight and sopping walls; his fingers twitching with each pulse of cum. As if a switch flipped in his head, your mechanic groaned deeply and loudly as his body lurched forward, subconsciously trying his hardest to go as deep as he possibly could into your cum stuffed pussy. Shaky, heavy pants heaved from him as you groaned softly at the newfound sensation of his cock emptying inside you, some of it oozing out of your cunt. 

Sighing heavily, the spent mechanic slowly and carefully pulled out, eyes entranced by the sight of your mixed liquids stretch into thin lines connecting you two as his cock fully left you. Long, rough fingers lowered themselves to your entrance and separated your folds more, the gentle action sending a slight shockwave through you. He was absolutely enthralled by your gaping and abused cunt. His fingers continued playing in your pussy, ears completely deaf to your moans of overstimulation. 

In and out. In between folds, up and down. Those were the simple yet powerful dance moves Hotaru’s fingers did, his mind blank besides the fascination of seeing your messy cunt decorated. This state of mind was similar to the one he’d be in whenever working on the current machine in the lot. Your legs twitched with each move his fingers did against your battered and bruised pussy. “H-Hotaru, you’re gonna make me cum..” your soft, tearful declaration received no response from the mechanic who was too deep in his work. 

To your, albeit painful, enjoyment, his fingers kept dancing nonstop despite your mewls and words of pleasure. With hitched breaths, you couldn't help the pleasure formed tears decorate your lashes as your second orgasm came fast approaching. Cum coated thumb and pointer finger gently pinched and rubbed your clit, your sensitive and delicate bud eliciting electricity through you. As if on cue with Hotaru’s newfound enjoyment with your clit, your second release finally came. 

Saccharine moans dripped from your mouth as it washed over you, your body shivering with each intense pulse of pleasure. It wasn’t until you reached out and gripped Hotaru’s veiny forearm that he stopped his unintentional torture; his sharp eyes leaving their enchanted state and giving you a look of puzzlement. Hotaru was confused as to why you stopped him. Couldn’t you see he was busy toying with your pussy? “What’s the problem?”

An airy chuckle of disbelief flew from your mouth as you carefully raised yourself up on your elbows, dull pain starting to form below the waist. “You’re awful, y’know that ‘Taru?” Hotaru’s large hand encased yours as he pulled you forward, helping you sit up properly. A slowly growing smirk adorned his face as it finally dawned onto your mechanic what he’d done. 

“What do you me-” Before he could properly feign innocence, a loud crash emitted from outside followed by a loud and rushed ‘I’m so sorry, Haganezuka-San! It happened again!’ You watched your mechanic in absolute confusion as he swore loudly and hastily got dressed, rushing to pull a knife from the desk drawer. “That fucking idiot! Tanjiro! Don’t run away from me!” 

“Wait!-” Your words died out as your ever so hot tempered mechanic ran out, not caring to clean you up or even just talk to you for a bit. You sat there, stumped on what just transpired, your mind running over all the things that happened from watching your crush fix your car, getting absolutely fucked out of your mind by your crush, and watching your crush attempt to murder a child. Truthfully, you wondered if moving forward in the future with him as your new source of pleasure was worth putting up with his attitude. As the dust particles in the air floated and the ticking of the wall clock filled the silence of the room, you reached your firm conclusion.

It’s fucking worth it.

ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ, ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ, ʙɪɴᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ. ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏᴛᴏꜰꜱᴛᴇᴡɪᴇ™ 2023

Tags: @chrollohearttags @tojisblondebimbo @toji-dabi-wife @comatosebunny09 @nymphoheretic @spaceforher @love-2-fast @p3ach-gyals @itmightbejo @jellymantra33 @bontensbabygirl @chickenwingsandfries3425 @starrbright @sleepdepriveddork @haji-me-mashite @namjoonsbuspass @koyukiki @twisteddaydreams1135 @garie-gary @heavenlysageee @prettypurplebirb @bigmooncheeks @mousepillz @jenuchi @lunerenzo @bigmooncheeks @heibunniie @doveyrei @wntrsblvd @gobblethiskitty @ezay @marusatonanhin @chile-im-embarrassed @thickbihhwitdagapp @conniesluvrgyal @jasminefaerie @namidaass @tiazvni @ffushiquro @partypom @dawn-bunni @katymae12344 @iluvlay0111 @breadslut69 @grungedog13 @levismommymilker3000 @unknownaqxa @bookworm0ctavia

#kny smut #demon slayer smut #haganezuka x reader #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka x black reader #haganezuka x black yn #black reader #black reader smut #kny haganezuka #stew’s smut stew #demon slayer haganezuka #original stew

[wileys-russo]

blurb for reader looking after sick less? she would be so stubborn and in denial about being sick but once she hits her peak she just crumbles and wants nothing more than to be cared for and looked after, to the point she would get grumpy you aren’t giving her enough attention despite wanting to be left alone .5 seconds ago

fic based on this blurb 🫶🏻

hot and cold || a.russo x reader

you knew from the moment you woke up that alessia wasn’t herself today.

for starters the girl wasn’t wrapped tightly around you as normal, the blonde instead opting to sleep curled into herself on the very edge of the bed, seemingly as far away from you as she could get.

assuming she’d just had a bad dream or wanted some space you’d not thought much of it, rolling over and tugging on the back of her top to let her know you were wanting her attention and affection.

but all she could do was murmur a quiet no and pry your hands off, tucking her knees into her chest as your eyebrows knit into a concerned frown, pulling yourself to sit up.

alarm bells had gone off the moment you glanced down to see the sweat beading on her forehead and the obvious grimace of discomfort plastered across her face, even whilst still half asleep.

you carefully pressed the back of your hand to her forehead, gently knocking away her own as they tried to push you off with an annoyed grumble, frown deepening as you felt the obvious temperature she was running.

your feet hit the carpet and you were out of the bedroom and downstairs in a flash, hastily darting around the kitchen and bathroom cabinet to grab what you needed before legging it back upstairs.

in your brief absence the striker had now shuffled over into the middle of the bed, arms tightly hugging a pillow to her chest, duvet kicked off and precariously hanging off the edge of the mattress.

“baby.” you squatted down beside her, softly poking at her side as the older girl sighed deeply and turned over, cracking open one eye tiredly.

“I think you’re sick love, can I take your temperature please?” you’d requested quietly with a small smile, moving to tenderly brush away the loose strands of blonde hair which were stuck stubbornly to her clammy sweat dampened forehead.

“m’not sick, im fine.” alessia had grumbled sleepily, huffing again and rolling back over away from you and it was now your turn to sigh, having feared this would be her response.

there wasn’t anyone more stubborn or in denial when accused of being unwell than your blonde lovergirl, you were almost certain of it.

this behaviour though not new to you, never became any less worrying or frustrating when all your heart ached to do was take care of the girl who everyday would go above and beyond to do the same for you.

you jumped suddenly, startled by the glaringly loud and shrill tone of your girlfriend’s 8am alarm, hurrying over to the other side of the bed and tapping it off.

luckily for both you and her today was her rest day so she didn’t need to train. but the paralysing fear of sleeping through or missing her alarms and being late for training meant she never ever turned them off, even on her rest days.

“go away.” alessia pushed away your hands with a soft whine as you attempted to stick the thermometer in her mouth, your own frustration levels spiked a little but you were far from ill prepared for her response.

“lessi please just let me check and then you can go back to sleep. you’re burning up, aren’t you hot?” you asked, biting down on your bottom lip with concern as she shook her head stubbornly, half heartedly kicking your body away from hers as you tried to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

“baby i love you very dearly and i know how you get when you’re sick better than anyone else. i know you don’t feel good and i know you’re grumpy as a result, but i just want to take care of you and try to make it better. please?” you tried again, squatting down to her eye level once more and pleading with her as unimpressed ocean blue eyes bore back into yours.

“for god sakes i am not sick im tired! just get away from me then if you’re so fucking concerned.” the blonde growled, lashing out and moodily throwing her body to face the other way again, shoulders hunched and body language closed off as you dropped your head in defeat.

“fine then, i’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath knowing she didn’t mean to snap at you, but that didn’t make it hurt any less when she did.

flicking on the air con to try and cool her down you left her on her own as you closed the bedroom door behind you with a soft thud, padding downstairs with a shake of your head.

despite her insistence that she was fine you knew that she wasn’t, and you were still determined to take care of her even if that had to be from a distance.

so leaving her to try and rest you called your mum, having her talk you through the soup she’d always made for you as a child when you were unwell, hastily taking down notes and rushing around to see what you were missing.

dismissing her offers to come over and help knowing that would only worsen your girlfriends mood, you scribbled a quick note for alessia explaining your absence and left it on the fridge before ducking out to the shops.

meanwhile back up in bed in the solitude of her own company, alessia was boiling.

she’d tried everything to cool herself down, even forcing herself in for a cold shower which only made her nose run more and her ears feel blocked which then sprinted on into an absolutely pounding headache.

so tired, miserable, achey and just about at her limit, the blonde was craving nothing but the comfort of your arms wrapped around her, now feeling even worse for how she’d treated you this morning.

stripping down into only a singlet she sought out your company, almost falling downstairs as she did, tripping over her own feet and letting out a cry of surprise as she just caught herself on the railing, stopping from tumbling head first with a shaky exhale.

squeezing her eyes shut with a wince a searing strike of pain shot through her head and suddenly the striker could feel her heartbeat in her ears.

a sudden wave of nausea rocked her body as she sniffled, wiping away at her nose which was running like a tap with the collar of her top, gripping so tightly to the railing her knuckles had now turned white.

she called out for you. once, twice, and then a third time, each more desperate than the next as her chest tightened and she stumbled downstairs.

the blonde let out a small sigh of relief as she pressed her blisteringly hot forehead to the cool marble of the kitchen bench, taking a moment to try and collect herself a little as her head continued to pound.

a coughing fit suddenly wracked her body as she doubled over and grabbed at her stomach, throat red raw and throbbing as she staggered her way to the fridge, throwing it open and grabbing a bottle of water.

taking a few cautious sips amongst attempted deep breathes her body seemed to settle, and it was then she noticed the note you’d left for her on the fridge and had you been there you’d have seen her practically deflate as her eyes scanned the page.

though her anguish was short lived as she threw herself down on the sofa, arms draped across her face to block out the light as she busied herself counting to 100 and back down again, something she’d done with you countless amounts of time when you’d been anxious on long plane rides, never having been a confident flyer.

but the girl barely made it to thirty before she heard your car pull in and a door slam shut, then before she could even force herself to sit up your keys jingled in the lock and the front door popped open.

you were so much so in a rush to return and get things prepped that you didn’t even notice the messy blonde head of hair staring at you from the sofa.

though once you did you let out a loud yelp of surprise, dropping a carrot to the ground and clutching at your chest as your heart rate sky rocketed and alessia finally forced herself up and to her feet.

“you left.” was all the striker could manage to get out before another coughing fit wracked her body and your eyes widened, hurrying over to her and helping her sit back down. “here baby, small sips.” you encouraged gently, tilting the bottle of water to her lips and crouching down inbetween her legs.

“better?” you asked as the coughing stopped and your girlfriend let out a deep exhale, nodding tiredly as your heart ached to see the deep bags under her eyes and the broken look of pain behind them which she was normally so eager to hide.

your legs beginning to cramp you stood to your feet, unable to even fully stand before arms wrapped around your torso and the italian latched onto you, burying her face in your chest as she remained sat on the sofa.

“i’m sorry.” the girl managed to mumble out as her hands clung desperately to the back of your top, yours rubbing soothing circles into her back and promising her it was okay before gently pulling her off.

though that was to no use as the striker once more grabbed onto you, arms wrapping around the back of your thighs now as she bent forward, the blonde looking uncomfortable as she did, easily the taller one of the two of you.

“don’t go.” she ordered, chin resting against your stomach as she looked up to you, tears beginning to well in the corner of her eyes as your face softened.

“love i just need you lay down here for a few minutes, i’m gonna make some soup so we can try to get something good into your stomach. then i’m all yours lessi, i promise.” you once again tenderly brushed away a few matted strands of hair which clung to her forehead, taking the opportunity to check her temperature with the back of your hand, sighing in relief that it seemed to have lessened slightly from before.

“i’m not hungry, i just want you.” the girl managed to get out, her voice incredibly raspy and fading fast with the ongoing coughing fits as she stared up at you, absolutely exhausted.

“i know my love but you need to eat something to try and fight this. then like i said i promise i’m all yours.” you reassured, nails gently scratching at her scalp as her eyes fluttered close in pleasure and she nodded, unwinding from you and laying back down on the sofa.

you darted away for a moment to grab the cough medicine and cold and flu tablets from the shopping bags, eventually encouraging alessia to take both much to her disagreement.

“i’ll be as quick as i can, do you want anything for now?” you knelt down to press a loving kiss to her forehead, lips lingering there for a moment as you felt her shake her head, feebly mumbling for you to hurry before her eyes slipped closed.

within twenty minutes you had the soup going and had been making frequented checks on the blonde sprawled out on the sofa, sleep seemed to have caught up with her as she dozed on the couch, once more curled into a ball and coughing every now and then.

“you’re taking too long.” spoke too soon. you felt the taller girl hunch over and press her face into your back, arms tightly wound around your mid section and you felt her overwhelming body heat suffocate you.

“i’m almost done gorgeous, just go lay back down and i’ll be with you soon.” you tried to unwrap her from around you but were only met with a quiet grunt no and her refusal to let you go.

so with a sigh you gave in, softly murmuring for her to move with you every now and then as she clung onto you from behind and you stepped around the kitchen, finally finishing the soup and dishing up a bowl for the blonde attached firmly to your back.

you had her sit down again on the sofa, taking a seat beside her as the italians head slumped tiredly to your shoulder and she instantly melted into your side. you quickly threw on something light and funny, knowing the girl curled into you had always appreciated background or white noise.

with soft encouragement and coo’s of praise you’d fed her at least half the bowl of soup before she pushed it away with a shake of her head, mumbling she was full as you nodded in understanding and set it aside on the coffee table.

“cuddles?” the older girl croaked out, tilting her head back from where it rested on your shoulder, and you swooned at the girls soft nature.

“yeah baby, cuddles.” you promised, assisting her to switch positions with you as the two of you now lay down on the couch, alessia sprawled out half on top of you as her head thumped down tiredly on your chest, her arms squeezed around you.

switching the movie over to something you knew she was more likely to settle down and watch you threaded one hand through her hair and snaked the other up the back of the thin singlet covering her, rubbing soothing circles into the slightly damp skin of her back, her temperature lowering but still very much not back to normal yet.

“kiss.” the blonde moved her head to look up at you expectantly and you smiled, pressing one to her forehead as she scowled. “proper kiss.” your girlfriend croaked out, puckering her lips expectantly as you again smiled but softly shook your head.

“you’re sick gorgeous, not today.” you tried to explain as her scowl only deepened and you felt her pinch at your sides, adjusting on top of you so she could somewhat push herself up a little more.

“if you get sick i’ll just take care of you. give me a kiss!” the grumpy blonde ordered as you sighed, knowing there was no way you could possibly win this and pressing a quick kiss to her awaiting lips, following up with several more pecks before she could protest as her face slowly melted into a satisfied smile and she settled herself back down on top of you.

“you’re such a big baby when you’re sick alessia, honestly.” you teased quietly, sighing as once more the striker moved herself to sit up slightly and glare down at you.

“don’t you dare call me alessia, you’re not allowed to.” she croaked out before she sat up quickly and her body convulsed as she coughed, you rubbing at her back and pressing gentle kisses to her exposed shoulder before helping her to take a few sips of water.

“sorry lessi baby, i love you.” you corrected softly as she nodded, grumbling that was better and settling herself on top of you again.

“do you want me to put your hair up?” you offered a few minutes later, feeling the back of her neck start to rise in temperature where you’d been soothing rubbing at it as the taller girl nodded. gently slipping the hair tie off of her wrist you scraped her hair up into a messy bun, the blonde pressing a grateful kiss to your jaw settling down again.

pushing up the back of her singlet your nails scratched absent minded patterns into her bare back, feeling the blonde sigh contentedly and tighten her grip on your top, material balled in between her fists as she pressed herself impossibly close into you.

mumbling sweet nothings to the italian your lips lingered on the crown of her forehead, feeling her eventually doze back off, grip onto you never loosening even as she did.

throughout the afternoon anytime you tried to move she would awaken, grumpily ordering you to stay and shifting on top of you, pressing a kiss to any inch of your skin she could find in the moment as you promised you weren’t going anywhere and she would once more doze off.

and stubborn, grumpy and soft as she was when unwell, you wouldn’t change her for anything in the whole entire world.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #alessia russo x reader #fic recs

[disasterofastory]

Relax (Ivar x Reader)

Relax Ivar x Reader Warnings: handjob

Summary: You help your husband relax.

You don't even bother with knocking. Every nerve in your body is on edge. Your heart is in your stomach, throbbing with worry and the need to see your husband. You can feel your insides turn. The door closes shut behind you with a loud thud. The walls shake for a second at the force. Both of them jump at the loud, sudden sound. Ivar's bright blue gaze lands on you with a raised brow. The thrall's eyes are wide and panicked. The pitcher with warm water is still in her hands. A few dark strands of her hair stick to her skin because of the steam that dominates the room. The air is heavy and suffocating with it. "I will help the King with his bath." Your voice is sharp and loud. You need a few deep breaths to check your feelings and change your tone. A gentle smile spreads across your face as you step next to the thrall to take the water from her. "Go to sleep," you tell her, making sure your tone is light and much nicer than before. She doesn't deserve to be at the end of your mood even though only worry, and tiredness makes you much more snappy than usual. "We all deserve some rest after this day." "Thank you, my Queen," she says before leaving.

Your attention wanders to Ivar, who still watches you without a word. New wounds and bruises decorate his skin. His dark hair is a mess of knots and braids. "How are you?" You ask him, pouring the still-warm water into the bath. "I'm fine," he replies. "It looks worse than it feels like." Putting down the pitcher, you grab a rag to soak it in the herb-smelling water before you kneel down next to him and start to wash away the dried blood and mud off his pale skin. His muscles jerk at your gentle touch before relaxing against the bathtub. A relieved sigh leaves his lips. "Did you kill him?" You ask after a few seconds. The satisfied smirk tells you the answer even before he forms it into words. "He will never bother us again." You nod. "I was worried." You knew the battle was inevitable, but when you saw the brightness in Ivar's eyes, you couldn't help but think of the worst all day. Seeing Ivar coming back through the gates of Kattegat was such a relief you almost fell onto your knees at the view of him. "I'm fine," he hums, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm. "I will always come back to you." "You can't know that," you argue. You watch the small droplets of water running down his broad shoulders. Your lips find the fresh bruise on his shoulder blade. Your fingers run up to his hair to get rid of the ruined braids. His head falls back against your touch.

"What's wrong?" You ask him after a while, washing out the soap from his hair. Your nostrils are filled with the smell of herbs you mixed together just for him. It always calms him down and puts him in a better mood. Well, almost always. "I don't know," he replies, fidgeting. The water ripples around him with every move. "My head... There is too much thing going on in my head." A smirk pulls on your lips as you adjust yourself at his side. Your head rests on your arm on the edge of the bathtub. Your other hand plays with the surface of the water. It's still warm. "I can help, my husband," you tell him. "If you want." You don't even wait for his answer. The pleading glint in the depth of his bright blue eyes is enough for your to move your hand to his chest. Pressing your hand against his chest, you feel his heart beating for long seconds. The thuds are strong and stubborn.

He is already half-hard when you reach down in the water. Your fingers curl around his shaft easily, and you can feel him twitch in your firm hold. A trembling breath leaves Ivar's lips. A smirk pulls on yours. The curve of his cock is familiar as you run your fist up and down his length a few times before releasing him to tease him a bit. He hisses at the feeling. Your finger smooths down on the underside of his erection until you reach his balls. "Y/N!" He groans out your name. His hoarse voice goes straight to your pussy, making your thighs clench for some friction. You keep your eyes on him the whole time. You still don't understand how a vicious man like Ivar can be so beautiful. His cheeks are dark pink, almost matching the shade of his lips. "You are so pretty," you state, and Ivar smirks through the bliss. "Squeeze me, wife." A moan follows his words when you do as he says. You palm him, curling your fingers around his shaft again to pump his length firmly. Your thumb traces the head of his cock, slipping up to the small hole. The grip of Ivar's hold on the edge of the bathtub is so tight you can almost hear the wood creaking. His chest moves up and down rapidly as he gulps down the air to bring it back into several moans and groans. "Kiss me," you order him, leaning closer to him. "Kiss me, husband." He doesn't even open his eyes when he brings his lips against yours. The movement is clumsy at first, with all teeth and tongue. Ivar is so deep in his own pleasure, he doesn't fight back when you start to dominate the kiss. You lick his lips, following the soft curve of his bottom lip and tangling your tongue with his into a fierce dance. Your free hand finds the back of his head, gripping his wet hair between your fingers. His groan is muffled and vibrates in your throat. Your pussy pulses and aches, meanwhile, Ivar gets closer and closer to his orgasm. You can read him like an open book, and when you are sure he is close to the edge, you make your hand move faster on his cock while pulling on his hair at the same time. His erection jerks in your hold as he cums with several shots.

"Can you help me out?" He asks after a few minutes. His breath is still rapid. "I'm not done with you yet."

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless smut #ivar smut #vikings smut #vikings x reader #vikings imagine

[ippipo]

gojo satoru pov

It was a really lazy day. You were on the couch with your head on my lap and my fingers were running through your hair. You hadn't washed your hair for a week and it was really dirty, flakes of dandruff visible. But I couldn't care less. It was a tough week for you and you needed rest.

I dragged my fingers gently through your locks and untangled some strands of hair. Despite how dirty your hair was, despite of how much I despised unwashed hair, in that moment all I could think of was how adorable you looked. Leaning into my touch and sighing, blabbering about your day. I love you.

I remember the first time I heard you fart. You were extremely embarrassed and didn't talk to me for an entire day. Later, you texted me and asked me if I still wanted to date you. It was so stupid, the fact that you were insecure over something so trivial. I'm glad that now you fart without any shame.

Because from that day onwards, I just loved you a little more. Craved you a little more. Wanted you a little more. All these things that you're so embarrassed about make me love you even more because you're not just anyone, you're my person. I love you.

I was thinking of the time when you broke an extremely costly vase. You panicked and started crying that day, unable to find the right words to tell me. You were ashamed of yourself for being so careless. You cried for almost three hours and I felt so disappointed with myself for not comforting you.

I expected myself to be angry, because that vase was a gift from a good friend. But I don't know why, I couldn't comprehend why. When you were hugging me so tightly, apologizing in a muffled voice with a tear stained face, I couldn't help but think. 'I love you'.

I remember when you opened up to me about how you were a terrible person when you were younger. How you lost people because of your selfishness. You still beat yourself up for that some times. You cried to me, begging me to forgive you, trying your best not to look at my face.

I could see how broken you were. A rare jewel, shattered into a thousand bits of dust. You pleaded with me not to hate you. That you weren't a bad person anymore. That you changed, that your younger self had no idea despite being so self aware. That everything felt artificial to you and you thought that was normal.

I laughed at how absurd your request was. How utterly dumb and stupid it was. Because my love for you is inevitable. Ruthless, dare I say. I wouldn't mind being a terrible person with you. But only with you, because if it's not you, I don't want anyone else.

As a matter of fact, you're not a terrible person at all. I know how much you regret your actions. I know how pained you were. And through all those times I've seen you cry about it, I just knew that I couldn't bear that sight. I love you.

Our first argument was when you thought I fell out of love for you. Stubborn was the best word I could describe you with that day. You were being unreasonable. Absolutely insufferable and frustrating. It was absurd how you accused me that day.

It started with a girl asking for directions, to which I gave her the directions. She had a similar keychain as Suguru so I pointed that out. We talked for a while because turns out she was his adoptive daughter. You saw me at the wrong time, just when I ruffled her hair. She was like a daughter to me, damnit!

But that day, you were already feeling low. Your insecurities crept directly under your skin and poked through it, making you feel disgusted at yourself. I was a little mad at Suguru that day too, unknowingly taking that out in our argument that came later.

You were screaming, I was screaming. But all of it stopped as soon as your eyes were brimming with tears. Some falling down your cheeks, burningly so. I never understood why you felt insecure when all I could see was perfection. You were absurdly beautiful.

The way your baby hairs stick to your forehead after sweating. The way that one mini dress hugged your body, that which you wore in secret because God forbid someone sees you in it, you said, but I heard you. Yes, God forbid someone sees you in it, they might fall in love with you. I wouldn't want to share you with anyone else.

The way your legs were rough due to the newly grown hair after a few weeks of waxing. I don't understand why you would put yourself through so much pain to make your legs look as smooth as soggy noodles. Because my love, the hair on your body doesn't make me love you any less, it's quite the opposite.

The way your haircut made you look was absolutely adorable. You decided to cut your hair by yourself, thinking it would be great. It was great, to me, but not to you. Uneven bangs and uneven alignment of your bob was quite the sight. We took you to the hair stylist to get it fixed and you cried all day out of embarrassment.

Even then, when you were crying after shouting so much because you thought you looked ugly, a familiar feeling bubbled inside my heart. I wanted to hug you tightly until we became one. Because even if you were to become Toji's stupid curse worm baby, I would still love you the same.

I put my arm around you and kissed your forehead, because even when your eyes were bloodshot after crying and your face looked puffy, you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen in my life. I love you.

I don't think you'll ever realise this, but no matter how wrinkly our faces get, no matter how rotten our skin gets, no matter how discolored our body becomes, no matter what age it all starts, no matter how white your hair turns, I can only think of these three words with eight letters. I love you.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #jjk characters #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x you #jjk x female reader #jjk x male reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader

[finalgirlrick]

Wicked Game

Pairing: Maggie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: ~suggestive~ towards the end

Summary: A slightly enemies to lovers maggie x fem!reader farm era fic. I'm in love w maggie so this came super easy, I know it's not very popular to write about but w/e!! we all saw those dead city pics. shoutout @weretheones & @normanplusdaryl for encouraging my maggie simpery.

When you first met her, you swore she might’ve hated you. No, you were certain. With her narrow green eyes always fixed on you and a scowl on her face whenever you entered a room, it was hard to have any doubts. It was intimidating. She was intimidating. You were around the same age when you met, the only people in your age bracket holed up in her dad’s farmhouse other than Glenn. 

Her bold attitude captivated both you and Glenn, and you often found yourselves talking about whatever new shocking thing you witnessed her doing when you went on runs together. “Did you see the way she just slapped Shane?” Glenn asked completely baffled. “Yeah, she’s just asking for murder,” you joked holding back a grin. Maggie Greene, she was full of surprises -- and honestly, you wouldn’t mind sticking around to see how many more. 

There was no denying it, she was gorgeous. It wasn’t lost on anyone with her soft brown hair and the big smile that always stopped you in your tracks the rare times you were graced with it, usually when you bought her something on a run that you overheard her saying she needed earlier. And her distinct farmgirl fashion, maybe you wouldn’t have worn any of it, but she always pulled it off. She could pull anything off. 

Slowly, you became more friendly with her, it was inevitable when you were living in close quarters for so long. You eventually realized her earlier stubbornness was just due to being protective over her family and the farm, and you couldn’t blame her for that.  Once the initial awkwardness faded away, you, Glenn, and Maggie started having regular game nights to pass the time. They were full of laughter and chaos, and Herschel would sometimes peer in to remind you “rowdy kids” to get to bed, which only made you all laugh harder. A few times, you noticed the old man bite back a smile, in relief that there was still at least some joy in this new world. 

You loved seeing Maggie get competitive, or when she would try to trick Glenn into making the wrong move, which was more frequent than not. He was always visibly nervous and stammering around her, and you could tell she was using it to her advantage. She would tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, lean forward with her chest - god that was distracting, flash her doe eyes and that smile and he was a goner. You couldn’t blame him either, you always got butterflies whenever she pulled that move. But instead of reacting like him, you would chuckle and you would exchange a knowing glance with her, a new inside joke between you two. You couldn’t be happier to be a part of it. 

One game night, Glenn brought a bottle of wine he had scavenged, making sure to hide it from Herschel. The three of you had your usual nightly routine together, but Glenn started going overboard with the drinking and before you could finish the round of the game you were playing, he was passed out on the floor. “He’s a lightweight, huh,” Maggie giggled. You nodded. 

“So, I guess it’s just you and me now,” she pointed out. “Yeah, sorry about that,” you said with a half-smile, feeling those butterflies creep up on you. Her eyes crinkled when she grinned, “You’re funny.” Much to your surprise, she scooted around closer to you, making sure not to disturb Glenn, who was currently splayed out on the floor beside you. 

You felt like you were going to lose it. You didn’t have many moments alone with her, and this felt like completely new territory. Plus, the feelings you had developed for her didn’t make this any easier. There was no chance she would ever feel the same way, you knew it. You were going to make a fool of yourself and you were consumed with dread. 

“What do ya say we ditch this game?” she asked. You barely made eye contact with her as you replied, “Maybe that’s a good idea.” 

“This might be a good chance to get to know each other too.” The remark made you snap upright and you repeated it back to her. She continued, “Yeah, silly. Don’t you think it’s a good idea since we’re spending so much time together?” You gulped unsure of what to say next. “There’s just not much to know about me,” you scoffed. 

“Pffft, that’s a downright lie. You might be the most interestin’ person in this house.” You felt your cheeks turn pink and prayed that she wouldn’t notice. “Glenn’s interesting,” you said with a shrug, trying to distract from it. She looked over at him, “Yeah, real interestin,” and you broke out in laughter together. 

“Seriously, tell me somethin’ about you. What did you do?”

“I don’t know. I guess I was in school, I didn’t do much,” you sighed. “I was in school for a while too,” she replied moving in closer. Your heart was racing so fast you were starting to think it was dangerous.  “I think we might have more in common than I originally thought,” she whispered. She was making those doe eyes and you had to be going crazy. She couldn’t possibly mean…that, right? And why was she leaning in so close to you? In your bewilderment, you questioned her. She chuckled then, but it was different. It wasn’t like when you exchanged knowing glances when she pulled her moves on Glenn. She was looking straight through you. 

She took a deep breath in and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and just like that a wave of heat flushed over your body. Her face was mere inches away from yours now. “Do you like me?” she asked softly, almost embarrassed, a look you never saw on her before. Of course you did, you responded. In more ways than one, but she didn’t have to know about that. 

She nodded and smiled, and you just about jumped when she leaned in and brushed her soft lips against yours. It was a quick, shy kiss - waiting to see how you reacted and you were in so much shock that your mind went blank. But she was so beautiful, and right in front of you, and what the hell - she liked you. So you seized the moment and kissed her back, the movements getting more passionate and desperate by the second, both of your hands moving and grabbing in places they probably shouldn’t have when Glenn could’ve woken up at any second. 

“I didn’t think that was what you meant when you were asking if I liked you,” you admitted after the kiss was broken. “Are you complainin’?” she teased. “No. Of course not,” you giggled and her’s soon followed. 

#maggie x reader #maggie greene x reader #maggie rhee x reader #maggie twd #maggie rhee #maggie greene #maggie rhee fanfic #maggie rhee imagine #maggie rhee fanfiction #maggie rhee x you #twd fanfiction #twd fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #maggie rhee fluff #lauren cohan #wlw fanfic #wlw #sapphic fanfic

[coffeeghoulie]

I was thinking about the hockey au and what I was going to write before swissdew hair pulling kicked down a door in my brain, and it's been a slow day at work, so here's what I thought five minutes for fighting was going to be:

@askingforthesun @nocturnalghoul @forlorn-crows this might be of interest to you guys lol

"Stubborn mother-" Dew hisses, trying desperately to work a knot out of his hair. He's been growing it out, and the cornsilk strands just barely touch the tops of his shoulders, dripping with water after a quick rinse in the showers. His helmet sits to the side, dressed in just his compression shirt and shorts, the rest of his gear put away. Dew's eyes water as the knot persists, tugging painfully on his scalp as he combs his fingers through his hair.

He's the only one in the locker room, the rest of his teammates changed and ready to go after a particularly grueling practice. It's late, and despite being a night owl himself, Dew wants nothing more than to go home and curl up in his apartment. But he can't, not willing to go until he gets his hair somewhat presentable.

"Dew? You're still here?" A voice echoes around the locker room, and Dew snaps to face the door. One of the new defensemen sticks his head into the locker room, and Dew recognizes him, knows him, and his shoulders relax, tense posture easing a little.

"Hey, Aeth," Dew sighs. He's known Aether since they were both in the minor leagues, and Aether had been brought up to the Ghouls this season following Omega's last knee injury. "Yeah, I'm still here."

Aether steps into the locker room, sitting down next to Dew on the bench. "You having trouble with that?"

Dew huffs, yelping as he tugs fruitlessly on the knot. "Yeah," he admits. He rubs at his eyes, trying to hide the evidence of his tears. "This sucks."

Aether laughs, a warm sound that eases some of the frustration in his chest. "Yeah, I get it. Helmet hair sucks ass to untangle."

Dew narrows his eyes at Aether's close cropped sides, the slightly longer curl of his mohawk. "You don't have room to talk."

"True," he nods, laughing again. "I've never had it that bad, but my siblings played when we were kids. Well, both my little siblings played, but my brother's never had long hair. Rory ran crying to our mother every time she tried to brush through it after practice."

"Didn't know you had siblings," Dew says quietly. Aether shrugs.

"Haven't seen them in a while," he says. "I go home for holidays, if there aren't any games that week but really, we were never that close except for hockey. I love them, I do, but we all play. They're both still in the minors."

Dew nods, still working at the knot. He growls, stubborn and frustrated.

"Let me help?" Aether offers, reaching out but not quite touching Dew's wrist. "After a while, Mom got sick of fixing Rory's hair, and I learned how."

His posture breaks, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "Please."

Aether leans forward, carefully taking Dew's hands from his hair and replacing them with his own. He hums as he works, some slightly off-key tune that's familiar but Dew can't place. His fingers gently work at the knot, some magic touch untangling the strands.

They sit there for several minutes, until Aether pats Dew on the shoulder. "There, it should be all good."

Dew runs an experimental hand through his hair, laughing when his fingers don't catch on any tangles. "Thank you, Aeth," he says, leaning his head on the defenseman's shoulder. "Thought I was gonna have to be here all night."

Aether chuckles, leaning into Dew.. "Have you ever grown your hair out long before, Dew?'

"No, first time," he answers.

Aether hums, questioning. "Could I braid your hair?" He asks. "Rory had me braid it until she learned how to do it herself. It helped with the helmet hair."

Dew thinks for a moment, glancing at Aether's earnest expression out of the corner of his eye. He takes a deep breath through his nose, exhausted to his core. Their coach had run them hard tonight. He nods.

"Alright then," Aether says, matter-of-fact. He takes Dew by the shoulders, gently encouraging him to straddle the bench, swinging his own leg over the bench as he settles behind him.

It's quiet work, Dew letting his eyes shut as Aether braids his shower-damp hair, his fingers parting and separating his hair, starting to braid. Aether starts humming again, and Dew fights the urge to fall asleep, here on the locker room bench. He'd fall over, at best embarrassing himself in front of one of his friends, at worse concussing himself and getting himself on the injured reserves.

After a moment, Aether's collected all of Dew's hair into the braid, just weaving the sections until it's too short to continue. He curses under his breath. "Shit. Don't have a hair tie. Didn't think about that."

"I've got one somewhere in my bag," Dew says, leaning forward carefully to grab his go bag, rummaging around until he finds an elastic, handing it back to Aether.

He murmurs his thanks, tying off the braid. Dew runs his hand over it, feeling his slightly out of practice but still neat handiwork.

"Thank you, Aeth," Dew says, turning so he's sitting normally on the bench.

"Any time," Aether responds, his hand resting on Dew's shoulder. "Next game, do you want me to braid your hair?"

"That'd be nice. Don't want to make a habit of it though. I'll learn how to do it."

Aether laughs kindly, grinning as Dew finishes changing into his normal clothes. "I will happily braid your hair as long as you'd like, Dewey."

Dew slings his go bag over his shoulder, reaching for Aether's hand as he leads them out of the locker room. "I'll take you up on that, Aeth."

#also i'm projecting just a lil on aether but i don't think i've ever written a fic that i didn't project onto one of the characters so yeah #hockey au #dot's writing #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #the beginnings of aether/dewdrop

[zerobaselove]

my favorite | park gunwook

pairing: gunwook x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 939

warnings: none! lowercase intended, not proofread

prompts: 7. "dont tell me you're jealous" 30. "you make it hard to think straight"

notes: my wookie ohhh i love him so bad. i've been pretty busy lately but i did manage to pop this out in a pretty quick time so <3 anything for him tbh

ever since you started dating gunwook you had found yourself getting close with the other members; it was inevitable really, always visiting gunwook at practice and the dorms meant you were also always visiting them. surprisingly you actually got along really well with everyone, despite your fear that they wouldn't like you.

you had especially gotten to be on good terms with gunwook's best friend, gyuvin. he was always fun to be around and the three of you found it easy to hang out together without anything being weird. it was nice. after years of longing for a close group of friends, you finally had one, and you had gunwook; it didn't get much better than that.

today was a day off for the boys, a rare occasion that you knew you had to take advantage of. according to gunwook he had the dorm all to himself, almost. gyuvin was there too, both deciding to stay in on the free day instead of going shopping or out with friends like the others. so in an attempt to be nice, you stopped at the store to grab them some snacks for all their hard work lately.

you grabbed a few snacks, one you had seen gyuvin eating with gunwook once, a safe option you'd like to think, as well as some drinks and gunwook's absolute favorite snack.

soon enough you found yourself knocking on the door to their dorm, hearing some muffled shuffling before being greeted with gyuvin's smile. "oh gunwook is just in the shower, c'mon in." he opened the door, gesturing you into the kitchen as he locked the door behind you.

"i brought treats!" you enthused, holding the convenience store bag in your hand before reaching in to grab the snacks you got for gyuvin.

the two of you chatted for a bit, gyuvin even sharing his snack with you to show his gratitude until gunwook made an entrance. his hair was still damp and sticking to his forehead, partnered with the glasses resting on his nose. "hi love," he came up behind you to drape his arms over your shoulders. you relaxed into his touch despite the drips of cold water coming off of his hair, giving him a similar greeting before standing up, not noticing the way his eyes grazed over you and gyuvin in front of him.

"you two go have fun, i have to catch up on a show." gyuvin smiled, heading off to his bedroom with his drink, opting to leave his snack on the counter. now that you were alone you couldn't help but notice the expression plastered across gunwook's face. "what's wrong wook?" you questioned, bringing your hand up to brush a damp strand of hair from his eyes.

"it's nothing," he mumbled, barely audible through the pout that he displayed as his arms crossed in front of him.

gunwook was stubborn, this wasn't news to you, but he also knew you weren't stupid, so you ran over anything that could've made him upset today. you quickly scanned the room, eyes landing on the snacks and the empty seat that once sat gyuvin a few minutes ago. bingo.

"wook," you chuckled, "don't tell me you're jealous."

"you got him snacks," he pouted again, unable to control his tone as he stood there staring at you. you could only laugh for a moment as you picked up the bag on the floor, "i got you snacks too, silly." you pulled out a bag of home run balls and a carton of chocolate milk for the boy sulking in front of you before holding it out to him.

he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face, "those are my favorites, how'd you know?"

"i pay attention gunwook," you placed the snacks down on the table as you gestured for him to sit with you. "did you really think i'd get gyuvin snacks and not you?" he shrunk into himself at the statement; yeah, it seemed a little weird that you'd do that, but he didn't always prove to be the smartest when it came to the person he loved.

he shook his head, mumbling a "no" under his breath as he shyly opened the chocolate milk carton. "thank you." his voice was a little louder this time.

"no need to thank me," you ruffled his hair, letting out a small chuckle at the endearing boy in front of you, "you're cute when you're jealous by the way."

the blush that dusted across his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you, and you couldn't help but wonder how you got so lucky to have such a cute boy in your life.

"listen it's not my fault," he sighed, taking another sip of his drink, "you just," he paused for a moment, "you make it hard to think straight."

now it was your turn to blush, a little flustered at the innocent confession from the boy sitting beside you. you took a few moments to compose yourself before responding, "well i'm honored," a slight questioning tone in your voice, but genuine nonetheless.

a shy smile spread across his lips as he grabbed your hand with his free hand, the other holding the snacks and his drink, "well c'mon," he started, pulling you off towards his room, "you promised me you'd play games with me."

and that's how your afternoon went; back and forth bickering as you competed in various games. as much as you loved your boyfriend, you'd be damned if you went easy on him, so that incident wouldn't be the last time you saw pouty gunwook before the day was over.

#zerobaseone #zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #park gunwook imagines

[lullaebies]

Aegon III/Jaehaera prompt/request: Jaehaera is with their kids (maybe they're in the godswood playing) and Aegon ends up joining them?

(also Alicent is alive because why not? And if two of their daughters could be named for their moms I think that'd be cool)

“Get down from the tree at this instance, young lady,” Alicent warns, face lifted to look at the very branches of the heart tree. 

Jaehaera snaps her head back. Her grandmother had been a great aid with her daughters, but sometimes they grow rambunctious beyond belief. Helaena and Rhaenyra are seven now, and their elderly grandmother had struggled to keep pace. Alicent’s now grey hair has blended somewhat unremarkably between her silver-haired family, but it is hard to match with a dragon-spirit.

“No,” Helaena answers, hugging the thick branch of the tree, silver strands cascading down, hanging in the air. “I like it here.”

Jaehaera frowns at her from below. She had been busy braiding Rhaenyra’s hair with all the flowers she wanted in it. Helaena was supposed to wait her turn, but alas, she would not. “We said no climbing, Helaena!”

Her daughter sticks out her tongue, managing to sit up on the branch fearlessly. 

“I will get a Kingsguard,” Alicent says after trying to lift her hands to reach her; the heart tree is stocky rather than tall, but her hands are too short. “I will not have you falling down this branch!”

“I never do!” The girl answers, dignified.

Jaehaera ties off Rhaenyra’s braid, and the girl stands up, looking at her sister. “Yes you do!” she says, while swishing around her braid proudly. “Grandma will get Mister Willy to get you!”

Jaehaera tries to maintain a serious demeanor. Ser Willis Fell will never vanquish this silly nickname. Jaehaera lifts herself to come by the tree. “It is time to get down, Helaena.” 

“Don’t wanna,” the girl repeats in giggles, stuck to the tree like a cicada. Her little stubborn girl. This Helaena is not her mother, but she can’t help but feel stressed at the idea of her falling. Jaehaera is sure her grandmother feels similarly; only a few years ago she had refused to leave her rooms, still. 

“Papa,” Rhaenyra suddenly exclaims, running towards an incoming figure and hugging his leg. “Helaena climbed the trees again!” 

Aegon, patting gently against her head, hums. “And is making far too many people beg again, is she?”

“Yes!” 

Jaehaera turns around to him, a little sigh escaping her when her husband comes by her side. “She was supposed to be waiting her turn for a braid.”

Aegon hums. “The first mistake was expecting her to wait,” he says, and after some pause, kisses the side of her head. He’s been opening slowly to all touch since their daughters grew up.

They’ve come into a good place in their marriage, this last year. He tries to reach out more, even when her grandmother still turns stony whenever he comes around. Alicent curtsies at him respectfully, but is clearly concerned more by her granddaughter to spare him too much of her gaze. She lifts her arms again. “Helaena, come down.”

Aegon gives Jaehaera one glance, before he steps forward between grandmother and granddaughter. “Let me,” he says, and he lifts his arms himself. Alicent’s brown eyes squint at him, but move aside. He actually reaches the legs the girl had been swinging, and she giggles. “Jump to me, daughter? I’ll catch you.”

Helaena licks her lips. Her deep amethyst eyes have a happy glint to them. This is just a way to fly for her. The girl lifts herself off the branch, and falls, but into her father’s safe arms. He catches her in a big hug.

“There we go,” he says, smiling at his daughter as he turns back to Alicent. “Now we all can be calm.”

Her grandmother still struggles with Aegon at times, but her brown eyes turn softer then, holding her wrinkled hands together as she watches her chuckling granddaughter. Alicent gives him a nod and speaks gently. “Thank you, your Grace.”

Aegon nods back at her, gracefully humble. Looking back at Helaena, he holds the strands of her hair. “Do you want your hair braided too, now?”

Helaena glances at Rhaenyra, and they share some mischievous look. “No,” she says. “Papa’s turn.”

“Papa’s?” he asks, and before Jaehaera knows it, Rhaenyra tugs on her hand and rushes her to her father. Helaena is already tugging on Aegon’s hair. 

“Papa’s turn, papa’s turn!” Rhaenyra repeats, and Jaehaera laughs at the look on her husband’s face. Oh, he’s positively shocked, almost speechless as he realizes there is no escape.

Jaehaera brings a hand to his shoulder. “Your turn, husband,” she tells him. “Sit down, if you may.”

“..If you ask so kindly, I suppose I must,” he says in soft exasperation as Helaena already tugs on some of his strands. He hardly ever breaks into a smile, but there is a tug on the corners of his lips. He sits down, and lets Jaehaera and their daughters come around him. Jaehaera runs a hand through his hair gently, hoping he knows she is glad for this, too.

Her grandmother sits slightly farther away, watching all throughout, any frown or scowl notably absent. Later, when Jaehaera escorts her back to her rooms, Alicent gives her an old book. Beautifully illustrated, but not well tended to — it seems a page of it is missing. 

“You should read it, with your husband and the girls,” she tells her. “The kindest of days are those passed with stories told at the shade of the heart trees.”

#this shoulda came yesterday but i was a dumb dumb and misread the req #hope you enjoy this friend!! #jaehaegon #jaehaera x aegon iii #aegon iii x jaehaera #jaehaera targaryen #aegon iii targaryen #hotd #hotd imagine #reqs #answered #my fanfics #my fics #forwithinthishollowcrown

[creative-crybaby]

Second Skin

PAIRING: timeskip!Yamagata Hayato x fem!reader

GENRE: hurt/comfort | smut (18+)

Minors DNI

TAGS + WARNINGS: fingering, nipple play, praise kink, cum eating, creampie

Let me know if I missed anything.

WORD COUNT: 3k

SUMMARY: Some days, you just want your partner all to yourself. Today is one of those days, and that want has grown to a need. All characters are 18+

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Is my codependency showing? Just going back to my smutty roots, okay? I miss my boy :(

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

You miss him. 

It’s embarrassing to admit—not because your feelings towards him are anything to be ashamed of, but because it doesn’t feel like there’s any reason to feel how you do. You’re fortunate enough to have breakfast together most mornings and be home before the other is too tired to stay up longer. Assuming you have dinner together, the atmosphere is a weighted blanket, the two of you exhausted from a hard day’s work, but still more than content to return to the other. 

Tonight is no different when you catch the sound of the doorknob jiggling. 

You almost forget to send your email before hastily pushing your laptop off your lap and onto the couch, making your way to the entrance of your apartment. 

“I’m home—” Your presence is enough to cut Yamagata’s sentence as he shuts the door behind him. A smile immediately eases onto his features as you take his sports bag from his hold, quickly placing it out of the way. He’s already removed his shoes when you pull him into an embrace, one tight enough to have him huff from the force. Not that it stops him from returning the affection. “Good to see you, too.”

The humorous tone makes the corners of your lips twitch upwards, though you further bury yourself into him, inhaling his scent.

“Hey.” The proximity muffles your voice. The libero gently pulls away to get you to face him.

“Missed me?” he muses, his usual boyish grin spreading on his lips. It’s enough to make you melt, your knees refusing to support the rest of your body as warmth radiates from your cheeks. 

Your nod is enough to make the corners of his mouth drop. Even with his resting mean face, you know he’s far from upset. Still, you don’t feel like elaborating. 

You plant your fingers into his hair, now down and slightly dishevelled without the gel. “Showered at practice?”

Yamagata hums in confirmation, leaning into your touch as you gently play with the strands that stick out. “Have you eaten yet?”

You shake your head. “Feels a little too early for that.”

In all honesty, dinner’s the last thing you want to discuss. You can hardly answer your boyfriend’s questions when your focus keeps flickering to his lips, eyelids drooping as your brain transfixes on what you’re really drooling over.  

If you’d look just a bit higher, you’d see that it hasn’t taken him long to catch on to your thoughts. 

Another smile makes its way onto his face, this one far more teasing. “Care to share your thoughts with the class?”

You pout, looking away as you tighten your arms around his neck. “You’re full of questions today, aren’t you? Is this an interrogation?”

Your boyfriend’s hold on your waist slides to your hips, his thumbs brushing patterns on your leggings as he tries to regain eye contact with you. Your stubbornness and embarrassment persevere, however, and they’re working overtime to keep your gaze away from his.

Yamagata won’t have it, it seems. One of his hands finds your chin, leading you to peer back at him. His usually arched brows soften, but it doesn’t hide that familiar glint in his eyes.

“This is an interrogation,” his tone is serious before it changes to something much lower, “and I’ll use any methods necessary to get answers out of you.”

Next thing you know, the libero pulls you into him even closer (if possible) and attacks your face with kisses, aiming for any spot he can find. You squeal, shuddering in his tight hold but doing little to escape it. 

Eventually, your lover travels his affection to your neck, trailing down your jaw before nibbling on the spot he knows makes you weak. It isn’t until he starts sucking on the area do you release a quiet whimper, and Yamagata freezes. He plants one last kiss on your cheek before pulling back, his arms keeping you in his embrace.

“Talk to me.” When he speaks to you like that, all soft and voice lowered like his words are for no one else, you want nothing more than to dissolve in his arms. Keep him talking to you just like that about anything and everything–you don’t really care–so long as it’s just you two in that conversation. It’s a bedtime story you know nothing about, not bothering to understand its plot or the depth of every character. Having him want to share something with you is what eases you into that vulnerability that you’d otherwise convince yourself you don’t have.

You lean to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I need you to touch me.”

One blink of realization later, and Yamagata’s pulling you in by the back of your neck, slamming his lips against yours. You’re immediately lulled into a haze as his tongue finds yours, swirling around as he carefully leads you to the bedroom. Even with your brain on autopilot, your actions show eagerness as you try to remove his clothes on the way. And with him getting handsy and copying your idea, you know he’s just as enthusiastic, leaving a trail of shirts and pants.

You’re both in your undergarments when you feel the back of your knees hit the foot of the bed and pull away from the kiss. 

“Need you close,” you pant, unclasping your bra. “Need to feel as much of you as possible.”

Your boyfriend’s already occupied gently biting the junction of your neck as he helps you remove your panties. “Anything you want, pretty.”

Not a second after you feel your underwear drop to your ankles, you climb the bed while kicking the useless material off you. Yamagata follows suit, leaning against the headboard and settling you between his legs. You lean back in his hold, taking his hands and placing them on your breasts. Ever the soulmate, he takes the lead, tweaking at your nipples while he resumes his handiwork on your neck with his mouth. 

You shiver. Despite the warmth, you find yourself pulling your lover closer, his body heat meshing with yours. And yet, it’s not the least bit overwhelming; if anything, it’s not enough. You need him in all five senses—you’d create a sixth one if it meant having more of him. His touch is everywhere you’d let him lay his hands on, and his musk invades your olfactory, making your head spin. And while he occasionally sighs or groans during his ministrations, you can’t see his face from your current position, nor can you put your mouth on any part of him you’d like. 

Frustration burns in your chest, and you hunch over to remove his lips from you before twisting your neck to kiss them. Your eyes struggle to refrain from fluttering closed as you let him surround you in every way possible, ignoring the strain on your neck as the libero complies with your neediness. 

You don’t miss how he hooks his muscular legs over yours to keep them open, nor the ticklish feeling of one of his hands travelling south. The squeezing and tugging of your breast don’t simmer away as Yamagata brings attention to your pussy, collecting your essence between your lower lips before toying with your clit. 

“Hayato!” you gasp as you pull away, your body jolting from his touch as your lungs try to take in as much oxygen as possible. The small, tight circles on your pearl have you rolling your hips in tandem, though your boyfriend is quick to tighten his cage on your legs.

“You trust me, right?” he hums against your ear, planting a kiss below it before you nod meekly. His ministrations don’t falter as he momentarily buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. “Then relax. Lemme take care of you the way you deserve.”

Your bottom lip quivers as his breath tickles your skin, and it isn’t until he finally slides a finger into your entrance that you allow yourself to release whatever noises you’ve been bottling up.

A pleased hum buzzes against your neck as you mewl and whimper at every touch. Soon enough, a warm tongue follows suit, dancing across your skin in appreciation as you grind with the libero’s finger. The light squelching doesn’t help your situation either, adding fuel to the fire and setting your body ablaze every time the sounds reach your ears. 

Then Yamagata adds another finger, further stretching you open. Nothing you haven’t done with him before, but even in the clouds, you can feel everything more than one would. 

“You hear yourself?” he whispers. You can practically feel his smile while he picks up his speed, the lewd melody between your legs almost masking his words. “You hear how much you need me?”

A nod is all you can offer, embarrassment and lust swirling in your belly as your lover continues attacking your sweet spot. With his hold on your legs, you have little room to buck your hips in tandem. If anything, it feels like the sun is growing closer, sweat clinging to your skin where it connects to his muscular thighs.

Your voice finds you before you find it. “Can’t wait any longer.”

Your words are plenty for the libero as he pulls his fingers out, licking them clean of your slick while ensuring you catch every second of the performance. You barely get to whine at the display before he brings you in for another kiss, sharing your taste. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as they flutter closed, and you want to stay like that forever.

But you don’t get forever. You pout once Yamagata pulls away and aren’t given a chance to complain as he leads you into a new position, having you lay on your back with him hovering over you, his thumbs hooked past his underwear’s waistband. It’s hard to miss the bulge in his boxers, having felt it poke you as your bodies pressed against each other, though watching your boyfriend free his cock of his restraints makes you salivate nonetheless.

He’s using one hand to pump his shaft while using the other to spread your legs, chocolate eyes lidded and cheeks flushed as his gaze wanders your naked body. It’s enough to make you shiver.

“You’ve been so patient,” he practically coos, getting closer to line his cock with your entrance and rubbing his tip against your lower lips. “Gonna make it worth the wait. Promise, baby.”

You’d swoon at his reassurance had it not been for your neediness, hazy eyes watching as he finally pushes in. The familiar stretch makes you sigh, and your arms find their place around his neck, pulling the libero closer. 

Normally, Yamagata likes taking his time sinking into your warm cunt, teasing you and getting you ansty. You’re grateful for his mercy, opting to fill you to the hilt fast enough without hurting you. It isn’t until his hips touch yours that you wrap your legs around his lower back. 

He chuckles airily. “Ready, sweet girl?”

You nod before pulling his body closer to yours, desperate to feel him more than you already are. Your lover happily indulges in your clinginess, burying his face in your neck as he begins with slow strokes. You moan, your fingers dancing in his locks as you take him in. Even with your body relaxing in his hold, your mind is racing. 

It’s not enough. You’ve become one, and it’s not enough. 

Your bottom lip quivers—Yamagata seems to notice, halting his movements and nudging your cheek with his nose. 

You don’t answer him at first, not when he gently calls your name the first and second times. By then, he’s come out of his hiding spot, and his eyes widen upon seeing your face. You can only guess he knows you’re crying before you do.

“Hey,” he shushes, his brows furrowed with worry. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? We can stop if you—”

“No!” You don’t want to hear the rest of that sentence, your hold on him tightening. “I need more. I hate feeling like this, and you’re perfect–so fucking perfect for me–but I need feel all of you, all the time.” You finish with a hiccup, your tears blurring your vision and helping you avoid his reaction. Instead, you try to calm your breathing, the occasional sob cutting you off. Eventually, you manage to add meekly. “I miss you.”

You’re hesitant to remove your arms from his neck, but the tears keep coming and wetting every inch of your skin it touches, and you feel like clawing at something. All you can do is wipe them away the best you can, hating that this is all happening now in front of him.

But then your vision returns, and your lover looks at you with a soft smile and an even softer gaze that makes your heart melt and leak out of your eyes some more. 

“I miss you, too.”

His lips return to yours once more, slotting together as you wrap your arms around his neck again, and he resumes his thrusting. Faster and deeper, his cock reaches spots that have you seeing stars while his mouth steals every breath in exchange for even more of him. Your chest burns as your cunt stretches and moulds into his shape, and your brain is a mere puddle between your ears. 

You’re in heaven.

“‘M close,” you gasp once the libero pulls back for air. The coil in your lower belly drives you mad, and all you can do is pathetically grind along with his movements. It’s enough to make you sob; Yamagata rests his forehead against yours.

“Me, too,” he rasps, his warm breath fanning your face. You try to resume your kiss, but you only plant a peck on the corner of his mouth. You groan in frustration, and he chuckles, shifting to give you what you want. With a satisfied hum, you wrap your legs tighter around his body: an invitation to finish inside. Even with your hold on his body, his languid thrusts remain as deep as before, albeit sloppier as you approach your peaks. 

A calloused hand glides down your body and between your thighs, finding your clit and messily rubbing it. It’s the final push, with bliss and intoxication as a veil that blankets you. Your glossy eyes manage to see heaven waiting at the altar. Vows are exchanged through swollen lips, words no longer necessary as the two of you share oxygen.

I do, I do, I do.

Time is slow while your thoughts are reeling. You don’t realize Yamagata’s laying on top of you with his face buried in your neck, having spilled his load in your sensitive pussy, until you feel some of his release slowly dribble out. You exhale shakily, somewhat enjoying his weight on you as you allow your legs to relax on the mattress.

The internal panic sets in when you feel Yamagata slowly pull back, and you hook your leg around his hip again. 

“I wanna stay like this,” you mumble against his skin, “just for a bit longer.”

He’s frozen for a moment before his body relaxes, strong arms bringing you closer as he shifts to lay next to you. “This good?”

There’s not a lot of room for you to nod, but the movement of your head is still enough of an answer. 

A pause. Not awkward, though you’ve never been a fan of the silence. It’s a chance for the volleyball player to ease up and take things slowly, something you’d always wish for him. For you, no exterior sound means there’s plenty of room for your thoughts to bounce around. Doing something–anything–can be a distraction—even better if it’s one of the tasks clawing away at your precious hours of sleep. 

Maybe it’s some kind of afterglow effect, but you find yourself able to do something about the issue, baby step or otherwise. 

“Thank you for putting up with me.”  

Yamagata’s lips press against your head, and you can practically feel his frown. If at all possible, he tightens the embrace.

“I’m not ‘putting up’ with anything, “ he responds gruffly. “I love you.”

You bite your bottom lip to stop it from quivering, your fingers mindlessly dancing across your lover’s tanned skin. You wonder if he hears you when you whisper an “I love you, too”—feeling his lips plant on your forehead is plenty of reassurance. 

“I just don’t want to come off as clingy, you know?” you reiterate. You try to, anyway. 

“Maybe I like clingy.” You feel the libero shrug, and you can hear the evergrowing grin in his tone. You find yourself copying his expression.

Yamagata’s known for his energy, especially the aggressiveness that comes with it—the bruises he gives himself from volleyball practice are more than enough evidence. And while you can handle his eccentricity even before you two became a couple, that didn’t stop your mutuals from wondering how you’d keep up. 

But the libero won’t break your bones with his hugs, nor do his teeth clash with yours during heavy makeout sessions—his embrace melts your body into him while his lips and tongue take your breath away. He gets giddy when you wear his clothes and keeps you farthest away from the street when you’re both on the sidewalk. 

All of that, wrapped in a pretty bow and handed to you with the most delicate expression. Just like the one he’s giving you now, having pulled back from the embrace to examine your face.

Be still, your heart.

“You’re perfect,” you say without realizing.

“So I’ve been told,” he chuckles before rolling you both over to sit up, never letting you go. You offer a puzzled expression, and he kisses your temple. “We’re continuing all this in the bathtub. Scented candles, bubbles, the whole shebang.” your body follows his as he dismounts the bed, slowly leading you to the bathroom while checking if you have the strength to move. Your leaning into his frame is more emotional support than physical, and that boyish smile returns to his face again. “I’m not done taking care of you.”

Be still, your heart, indeed.

© creative-crybaby, do not repost or modify

#fanfic #fanfiction #hq #haikyuu #smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #yamagata smut #yamagata hayato #yamagata x reader #shiratorizawa

[iamthemain-character]

So This Is Love

anthony bridgerton x reader

she/her pronouns

TW: none

bridgerton masterlist | part one | part two

a/n: thank you for all the love on this mini series! this is the last part, enjoy my lovelies! :)

taglist: @ambitionspassionscoffee @ifilwtmfc @shelbycillian @venomsvl @jessyballet @wotcherboo @m-rae23

It was no use; no matter how hard Anthony tried, Y/n could not, or maybe would not, be found. For weeks Anthony did everything within his power to find his best friend, but to no avail. Finally, after another unsuccessful trip to London, the viscount returned to his family’s home in the country, heartbroken and angry with himself.

Day and night Anthony was plagued by the thought that if only he had allowed himself to be honest sooner, he and Y/n could’ve been on their honeymoon right now. Instead, they couldn’t be farther apart, both lost and aching for the other.

As Anthony began to walk up to the door, he thought of his family. As much as he loved them, the intermittent looks of pity and then concern as they tried to cover up the scandal with the Sharma sisters were overall too much, and he did not feel ready to fight for his composure. Calling for a horse, Anthony decided he would ride around the property for a while to clear his head.

That soon became a poor decision as a sudden change in weather left Anthony soaked as rain poured from the sky. Stopping by a large oak tree, Anthony took cover underneath its large and leafy branches. It was a gorgeous tree, far out on the borders of the property. Anthony smiled as he ran his hand over the wood, noticing two initials carved into the bark. Looking up, the sight confirmed his realization. Faded strips of cloth were still tied to some branches, and there was a flat portion where a tiny little shelter had been erected, full of nut shells, blankets, and books which were probably weathered and beaten by now. It had been some time since Anthony had been out here, and Y/n had been his co-owner of the charming property. They used to spend every day of their summers in that treehouse, spending every moment talking of their hopes and dreams for the future. Anthony had wanted Y/n by his side forever then, and he wanted her by his side now; if only it hadn’t taken almost getting married to the wrong woman for him to realize it.

The sound of footsteps squelching across the wet grass made Anthony turn around, and he felt his heart stop. Standing there in front of him was Y/n; she was soaked through, her dress clinging to her body. Her hair was down, wild and a mess, with some strands sticking to her wet face. Water drops ran down her face, dripping off her nose and chin. The lead of her horse was clutched in her hand, obviously she had had the same idea as Anthony and had also been caught in the storm. Her lips parted, as if she wanted to say something, but all she could do was just stare. Yet all Anthony could focus on was that she was there, that Y/n was standing in front of him, and that she looked like the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen.

“Y/n…” Anthony barely breathed out, his voice hushed. He felt like if he moved to quickly or spoke loudly, Y/n would disappear. Yet she didn’t leave, just stood there, waiting for Anthony to speak. “You came back.”

“Yes my Lord.”

She was being cautious, understandably, but Anthony was desperate to right the wrong he had done to her. He walked forward, kneeling down, not caring about anything that having Y/n know how much Anthony cared about her.

“Forgive me, Y/n. You were right, and I was too stubborn to listen.”

“I don’t understand, Anthony. Why didn’t you marry Edwina?” Y/n put her hand on the man’s shoulder, and he dared to look up.

“She did not want to marry someone who didn’t love her, and after some reflection I realized I did not want to marry anyone who wasn’t you.”

“But your list, I do not fit into it, I could not be the perfect wife for you. And besides, I also don’t want to marry for anything else but love.”

Tears started to well up in Anthony’s eyes, his heart feeling simultaneously full and in pain. “I love you Y/n, I always have and I always will. It’s just…” Anthony swallowed hard, trying not to get choked up. “When my father died, you saw it destroy my mother. I didn’t want to ever feel that pain, and I never wanted to cause that for another. So I’ve run Y/n, I ran to the brothels, I ran to Sienna, I ran to Miss Edwina, all because I was too scared to let myself love you. But I can’t stop loving you, and you’re all I think about. And I realize now I would rather spend every minute loving you and then feeling the intense pain of losing you than go my whole life feeling numb without you. I love you Y/n.”

Tears were now freely falling from both Anthony’s and Y/n’s eyes, mingling with the raindrops. Anthony waited for the latter’s response, looking up and searching her face for any signs. Then slowly Y/n placed her hands on both sides of Anthony’s face, holding him as she leaned down and pressed her lips against his.

Warmth surged through Anthony, his body feeling like it was on fire from the contact. He had kissed multiple women before, but never had he felt as he did kissing Y/n right then and there. He stood up, and leaning into the contact, Anthony grabbed Y/n’s hips, pulling her closer. Y/n’s hands moved upwards, tangling her fingers into Anthony’s damp hair. The rain mixed with their lips as they touched again and again, a cold contrast to the warmth of their bodies.

When the two separated, chests rising rapidly in tandem, Anthony looked at the woman in front of him with a smile on his lips. Leaning his forehead against her’s, Anthony gently bumped their noses together. From that day forward, he knew that Y/n would be the woman he worshiped forever and ever more.

———————————————————————

The next time Anthony was standing at the alter, it was not anxiety and thoughts of another he battled with. Enjoying the warm, summer day in the beautifully decorated back yard of his home, Anthony grappled with the impatience he felt as he waited for his soon-to-be wife to walk down the aisle. Family and friends looked on adoringly, and Benedict offered a wink and a smile of encouragement, patting his pocket to let Anthony know he had the rings.

Then finally, a hush fell over the group, and the quartet starting playing. Looking down the aisle, everything melted away as Anthony looked at Y/n. Arrayed in her wedding clothes, bouquet in hand, she looked perfect in every possible way. Anthony blinked away tears, hardly believing that he was lucky enough to spend the rest of his life with his best friend. He took Y/n’s hand as she walked up to him, handing off her bouquet to Eloise. Hand in hand, the pair turned to the bishop, ready to tie their lives together.

And so they did; taking their vows, there was no hesitation as Anthony and Y/n dedicated their hearts and souls to the other. Nothing but smiles adorned their faces as they joined their friends and family in the garden, eating the delicious food and cake prepared for them. Anthony continued to hold Y/n’s hand for the rest of the day, loving the feeling of having her near and knowing she was there to stay. Whenever he held her left hand, Anthony loved to run his thumb over Y/n’s rings, even bringing her hand up to his lips so he could kiss them.

All day Y/n the focus of his attention, with nothing else mattering except for his new wife. As the party winded down, Anthony led Y/n inside to her new home. Sweeping her up into his arms, Y/n laughed as she was carried by her husband up the stairs and into their bedroom.

“Anthony, I dare say we shall cause a scandal with this behavior!”

“I do not care, after all, can’t a man enjoy his new wife?”

Setting Y/n down in the middle of the room, he stepped back as she took it all in. Anthony smiled as he saw Y/n walk around and touch various objects, and he realized it was like she was meant to be here all along. Suddenly she stopped, looking back at Anthony, and then looking back again.

Y/n walked forward and sat at the vanity she had seen, looking at her husband in the mirror. “I did not realize you had an affinity for this kind of furniture my dear Viscount.”

Laughing, Anthony came over to Y/n, resting his head on her’s as they looked at their reflections. “Mmm unfortunately for you, I had this placed here purely for your benefit darling. I figured it would be a nice start to you making this home yours.”

Y/n turned in her chair to look at Anthony, and the smile on her face made him feel as if he would buy every vanity in the world if it would make her this happy. “It is perfect, thank you.” Turning back, Y/n started to pull pins out of her hair. “Anthony, please do help your wife prepare for the night.”

“Gladly Vicountess Bridgerton.”

As Y/n worked on her hair, Anthony worked on navigating her out of the dress she had on. A long row of buttons in the back proved to be difficult, and Anthony felt thrilled as he got one done. As he started to work his way down, Y/n’s dress slipped off her shoulder, exposing the skin. Unable to resist temptation, Anthony pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

Pushing off the other shoulder, he placed another kiss on that one. The buttons forgotten, Anthony slowly pressed his lips along Y/n’s neck, reaching up to her jaw. She turned in her chair to him, and he moved his lips down to her collarbone. Over and over his kissed her, fully allowing himself to appreciate the woman he had married.

Regretfully, however, Y/n did pull Anthony off. Standing up, she slipped off the wedding dress, leaving her in her undergarments. Anthony felt his heart pick up as he watched Y/n, only able to see beauty in every part of her body. Y/n slipped a nightdress on, even though it was doubtful she would even need it later. Turning back to Anthony with a coy smile on her face, she grabbed his lapels and pulled him in. “Now your turn my dear.”

Anthony let Y/n deftly slip his suit jacket off and watched as she started to undo the buttons of his shirt. She seemed to be purposefully taking her time, leaving Anthony in desperate agony. Finally as the last button came undone, Anthony wrapped his arms around Y/n and picked her up, placing her down on the bed. Climbing in after her, Anthony placed kiss after kiss on any skin that was showing. Y/n wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him up and pressing her lips against his. Passionate and hot, Anthony and Y/n kissed again and again, enjoying the way their mouths fit together.

For just a moment Anthony pulled back, taking in his wife underneath him.

“I love you Y/n.”

“And I love you Anthony.”

#Spotify #bridgerton #netflix bridgerton #anthony #anthony bridgerton #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton x reader

[maelstroms-blog]

Another dabble.this time I subject Dream to PTSD nightmares.

Enjoy

Tw. Ptsd nightmares, panic attacks

Hob had gotten used to sleeping alone. The one constant in his long life was the prospect of a cold bed. After Eleanor passed, he just couldn't bear the thought of sharing his bed with another. Whether it was in a wooden cot, a pile of hay, or especially in a ditch, he would be alone.

Hob made peace with it.

Until, Dream returned.

37 years late, the word friend offered readily from his lips. And that friendship blossomed into something more. It only took a month [and 4 bottles of wine] before feelings were admitted.

Dream, in his usual stilted way, looking like an abandoned soggy kitten. Hob's answer came in the form of a hug, strong enough to sweep Dream of the Endless off his feet. 

He didnt know he could blush like that.

And with that, Hob relearned the joys of sleeping with someone else. Not just the carnal side, but the tender side. To turn over and have someone there beside him, to hold, to hug, to whisper sweet nothings into his partner's ear. And the sight of Dream, swaddled in his old jumper, curled up next to him, he would treasure for the rest of his immortal life. Especially when he stretched out, arching his back before snuggling back in.

King of all cats indeed.

And Hob, a man to act first, ask questions later, reached out and tucked a strand of black hair behind his ear.

Dream, as if sensing his touch, hummed in his sleep, and leaned into the touch.

Hob's heart fluttered. He couldn't resist placing a light kiss on his cheek. Undeterred by the cold, marble-like skin.

It wasn't unpleasant. It was like the chill that came with sticking your foot out from under the bedcovers.

Fitting, really.

Dream hummed and curled in further to Hob's side, seeking out his warmth. Hob pulled the covers up further, until only his pretty little face poked out.

Soon, his own eyelids grew heavy, the Dreaming pulling him away, though he tried to fight it, wanting nothing more than to keep staring at Dream's face. Th e pull proved too strong.

In his sleep Dream's lips twitched.

[Stubborn as a cat]

He finally closed his eyes, wondering where he would meet Dream tonight.

He never did.

Hob barely closed his eyes before something roused him again. He wasn't sure what it was at first, the hot puff of air on his neck, the rustling of sheets, no, it was the other sound, a sound that sent a spike of fear into his heart.

A whimper.

He turned and saw Dream, still asleep, but having some sort of fit. Dream lay beside him, still bundled up, writhing, as if in pain. Trapped by the sheets, his movements hindered, and in the moonlight shining in from the window, tears glittered on his pale white skin.

Hob knew instantly what was wrong. A nightmare. Dream continued to writhe, eyes still shut, nowhere near as serene as before. His pink lips parted, and a single sound escaped, one that an awake Dream would never utter.

A sob.

'Dream?'

Hob risked everything by reaching out, trying to find his shoulder. Dream didn't answer, twisting away from his touch. Under the thick cocoon of blankets, Dream's chest heaved, followed by another strangled sound.

Like he was struggling to breathe.

Hob frantically pulled away the blankets, it didn't help. In fact, it seemed to make it worse. When the cold air hit, he cried out again, curling into a tight, little ball, his thin frame shaking.

'Dream?' Hob tried again, 'Dream love, wake up.'

Dream just shuddered, his lips moving breathlessly, and yet, Hob could make out one word.

'Please...'

It was nothing like the deep baritone he knew and loved, not the voice that lulled sleepers into his realm each night. This voice was brittle, sharp, scraping its way out of Dream's throat. Cold hands surged forward, grabbing onto Hob's shirt, clenched hard enough to make the joints crack.

'Dream please!'

Hob sat up, desperately but gently, trying to rouse his lover.

After what seemed like an age, Dream's eyes shot open. Hob managed to catch a glimpse of a distant pair of stars before he shot up. He gasped, clutching his chest, still struggling for air he didn't need yet somehow couldn't get enough of. With his free hand, he reached out, blindly searching for something.

Logically, it would have been his bag of sand.

Hob didn't like to use logic.

On instinct, he reached for Dream, sliding slender fingers into his own hand.

Dream didn't notice, didn't even look at him. He just stared, stared at something Hob couldn't see. His mind somewhere Hob couldn't reach.

But maybe his words could.

'Dream, love, you're OK, you're safe,'

Dream gasped,

'You're here with me, Hob Gadling. We're in bed, it's a Monday night, we drank some wine and then you stole my socks. You know, my favourite pair? The one with ducks?'

Dream just gasped, but his breathing was slowing. Hob brushed his thumb against his knuckles, waiting for him to return. Again.

The stars blinked, once, twice, then faded away completely. Replaced with shiny blue eyes, shiner than usual.

With a motion that looked painful, he turned to look at Hob. Rigid and awkward, like a wooden puppet.

'Hob?' His voice, still thready, cracked. As if he couldn't believe Hob was beside him. Gently, Hob raised Dream's hand and invited him to touch his face,

'I'm here.'

Ice cold fingers graced his skin, soft as a whisper.

Before Hob could open his mouth again, Dream's eyes, still glistening, finally succumbed. He frantically knuckled his eyes but it was too late, the dam broke.

The tears came thick and fast, his shoulders shaking from the force.

Hob didn't bother asking what was wrong, he didn't try to say anything, no words would help.

Instead, he wordlessly opened his arms, waiting for Dream to notice the gesture. It took a minute, his vision blurry, then he looked at Hob. His brow furrowed, the blank look on his face spoke volumes, and further broke Hob's heart.

Then, slowly, surely, like a cliff weathered by a storm, Dream edged closer, shooting Hob quick glances, still unsure of what was real and what wasn't. Dream eventually closed the distance, laying his head against Hob's shoulder, he waited a beat, then wrapped his arms around him.

It was like hugging a tree. He could feel every bone and joint on Dream's slender frame. He felt his hands, faintly rising and bunching in Hob's shirt once again, seeking out whatever comfort he could get. Hob was more than happy to oblige.

He waited, silent, even as the tears returned, muffled now by Hob's chest. He ran his hand up and down Dream's back, softly, held him close and gently swayed.

It was a familiar gesture Hob realised. When he held Eleanor after her own nightmares, with Robyn after the passing of his mother, and when there was no one left to hold, he held himself, hugging his body tight, watching his son be lowered into the grave. Even when his own vision blurred, and sobs wracked his body like the cruel wind of winter, he kept his arms around him.

A poor excuse for another's embrace.

Hob wouldn't allow that to happen now.

As Dream's tears slowed, Hob didn't loosen his grip, he held on, pressing his lips to soft hair.

Finally, Dream pulled away, wiping his cheeks one last time and resting his elbows on his knees. He wouldn't meet Hob's eyes, that was fine, Hob could wait.

Dream blinked, then, with a sniff befitting a king, he cleared his throat.

'Apologies...' he spoke in his usual somber manner,

'I-I did not mean for that...to happen,'

Hob raised an eyebrow, of course.

'Dream, it's OK,'

'It is not!'

Hob blinked at the sudden change, Dream's voice like the crack of a whip in the quiet night.

Dream's eyes shined, not with tears, with fury.

'It. Is. Not.' He repeated, 'This should not have happened.'

He glanced down at his hands, glaring as if they were at fault,

'I am the Nightmare king. I should not be afflicted by my own creations. I should not be slave to my emotions. I should not...' his voice faltered,

'I should not- should not....Still be ...affected by-by...'

Dream faltered once more, lips pressing into a thin line.

Hob didn't ask, he didn't need to.

'I can still....' Dream stopped, swallowed, then spoke again,

'I can still feel the cold.'

His hands were trembling now, even when Hob held them.

He was right. His fingers were ice cold.

Slowly, he brought them to his lips and gently breathed on them, rubbing to try and get some feeling back to them.

Dream just sat there, looking on as he did it.

'Do you want a cup of tea?'

Dream shook his head,

'Do you want anything to drink?'

Again Dream shook his head, followed by a tremble,

'Do you...do you want me to hold you again?'

Dream looked up, as if startled, he pressed his lips into a thin line again. With a resigned sigh, he rested his head against Hob's shoulder once more.

'...yes.'

He sounded hoarse again, Hob gently shushed him,

'You don't have to speak if you don't want to, you don't have to explain anything, ok? You already did and you do not have to try and make any excuses for how you're feeling.'

Carefully, he tilted Dream's head, raising it so they gazed into each other's  eyes. Hob saw a number o f things in those eyes, he always did. Distant galaxies of stars, the possibility of the impossible, now, there was a tiny nugget of hope sparkling  somewhere deep in those baby blues.

'I will hold onto you for a long as you want, until you eventually get sick of me.'

A watery huff was his only answer, Hob counted that as a win.

'Come on, duck, lie down with me.'

Hob lay back down, Still cradling Dream and pulled the covers up over them. Shivers continued to wrack Dream's body, the vibrations travelled all the way to Hob's teeth. With a few more sweet words, and Hob's warm embrace, they soon stilled.

Dream was quiet, for a moment, Hob thought he went back to sleep, then, Dream shifted slightly, turning to look at Hob.

It happened in a flash but Hob saw it.

A quick twitch of Dream's lips, though it was sudden, Hob saw the emotion behind it.

Relief.

He pressed his lips to Dream's head, keeping them there, long after the sun rose. Hob watched through bleary eyes as Dream stretched in the morning sun, basking in its warmth.

It was a beautiful sight. 

#the sandman #the sandman fanfiction #dream of the endless #morpheus #tom sturridge #hob gadling #ferdinand kingsley #dreamling #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #the sandman netflix #dream x hob #panic attack #trauma #sandman fanfiction

[ethereousdelirious]

Sicktember 2023 Day 10

Prompt: "The only place we're going is the pharmacy"

Fandom: Ace Attorney

Characters: Franziska, Maya

Wordcount: 1,205

Notes: Happy early birthday, Wendy @vonpharma!!!!! Have some Franzsickska

Can u tell I was thinking abt birthdays when I wrote this

There went the plan. It exploded in fine vapor, exactly like the rapid-fire sneezes tearing their way out of Franziska's chest.

They were cute little things, but not nearly as small as Franziska's normal, one-off sneezes; there was a punch to each one that spoke of congestion in her head and chest. That spoke of illness.

Still half-asleep, Maya rolled over and held her, tangling their fingers together and smiling when their rings clicked against each other. She'd never get tired of that sound. "Gesundheit, babe," she muttered into the nape of Franziska's neck, nuzzling into the fine hairs there. Franziska smelled like her shampoo, light and pleasant, and Maya forgot herself for a moment, pressing her lips to the tender skin at the side of Franziska's neck.

"Don't—" was all Franziska could get out before another sneeze, and another and another, forced her to curl in on herself. "Don't say that." Congestion lay heavy in her voice, eliminating any doubt that this was a one-off— she was definitely sick.

"What, Gesundheit?" Maya asked, her lips still on Franziska's neck. She blew out a stream of cold air just to watch Franziksa's shiver. "Why not?" She'd heard all the reasons before, that it was tacky, that it wasn't original, but she couldn't help winding Franziska up. She couldn't help winding anyone up.

"Because…" It was rare that Franziska pouted, even now, but there was a distinctive note of childlike stubbornness in her voice and she twisted her ring around her finger, her gentle fingers stroking Maya's. "I didn't sneeze."

That was a new one.

Maya laughed, burying her face in Franziska's shoulder. "You sure about that one, babe?"

"Yes." Somehow, Franziska managed to square her shoulders and Maya had no doubt she was sticking out her chin in defiance. "Because I refuse to be sick on your birthday. Therefore, I did not sneeze and any further pursuit of the matter is unnecessary."

Yes, there was definitely more than a tinge of petulance in her voice. Maya laughed again because she couldn't help it and tugged on Franziska's shoulder. "Then give me a kiss."

"Maya Fey—" Franziska hissed, but Maya pushed herself up on her arm and leaned over and stole a kiss anyway.

Franziska's nose was cool and slightly damp, her lips already parted. Maya's hair fell around them in an inky curtain, cutting out the rest of the world for one blissful moment.

Then Franziska had to pull back for air (because she couldn't breathe out her nose, no matter what she tried to say), and a furious blush rose to her pale cheeks. "Are you trying to ruin your own birthday?" she demanded, looking anywhere but at Maya. She looked so irresistible lying there that Maya ducked down for another kiss, but had to pause when Franziska jerked her head to the side and sneezed again.

Her lips parted, gleaming in the morning light, perfect and petal pink. Maya kissed her. First on the forehead, then the nose, then on those perfect lips, giggling when Franziska squirmed beneath her. "Maya Fey! Cease this foolish behavior at once!"

"Or what?" Maya asked, drawing back just in case she really meant it. "I'll get sick, too?"

Franziska crossed her arms and there was really no question about it now— she was pouting. Maya sat back on her heels, balancing her weight on Franziska's thighs. It drove her crazy to have Franziska like this, the prodigy of the courts undone and blushing beneath her. Her fine silvery hair spread out on the pillowcase behind her and glimmered in the light, a few loose strands framing her face. With her nose and cheeks stained the same delicate pink as her lips, she looked like she'd just come in from the cold. Pale shoulders peeked out from beneath her pajama top and Maya zeroed in on them briefly. She loved to kiss Franziska's shoulders— she loved to kiss Franziska's everything.

"Why are you so determined to ruin your birthday?" Franziska asked, and sneezed again. "Or did you not want to go to the Steel Samurai pop-up?"

She sounded miserable, all congested and raspy. And still so determined to celebrate with Maya. To make Maya's birthday perfect, no doubt. Maya kissed each of her shoulders, gentle and soft. "I think the only place we're going today is the pharmacy."

"Oh, and what a wonderful birthday celebration that will be," Franziska said, frowning. "I insist you celebrate as you intended."

"You insist, huh?" Maya couldn't resist any longer; she flopped back into bed beside Franziska and pulled her close. "But it's myyyy birthday. And maybe I want to spend it in bed with a beautiful woman." She kissed Franziska's neck, one hand wandering beneath the covers to the hem of Franziska's sleep shorts.

Franziska caught her by the wrist and looked into her eyes, her own eyes flashing silver and hungry and despite the pink irritation rimming them. "You'd better know what you're getting into."

"You, ideally," Maya said, grinning.

Franziska closed her eyes slowly, a flush creeping along her cheeks and shoulders. "Never mind. I'm terribly ill. I'm going back to bed "

"Oh, come on!" Maya kissed her neck, dragging her tongue along the delicate skin above Franziska's collar bone, reveling in the shudder this earned her. "That was funny."

Franziska sneezed into the back of her hand, surfacing with a small noise of discomfort and a bleary look in Maya's direction.

Maya switched gears in an instant, working free of Franziska's grip so she could smooth her hair out of her face. "On second thought, let's hold off." She sat up, tucking the covers around Franziska's shoulders. "Dr Maya von Fey is gonna get you some medicine."

"Maya…" Franziska looked at her hard, brow drawn down. "It's your birthday. You're absolutely sure you want to spend it fussing over me?" Yes, she had that look in her eye, that ‘bullet wound be damned; I'm standing in court’ glimmer that Maya had seen so many times over the course of their relationship.

And Maya knew what she was offering. No matter how bad she felt, she would get up, push through it, overpower it through sheer von Karma willpower.

All for Maya, in this case.

Because she had learned, time and time again, that her own wellbeing was less important than the big picture. And when the big picture was justice, well, that wasn't Maya's call to make. But here? Today? It was Maya's decision alone.

Perhaps she'd been quiet for a bit too long, because Franziska repeated herself, a touch louder. Like Maya hadn't heard her congestion-laden voice the first time. "Maya, do you really want to spend your birthday stuck inside fussing over me?"

Maya smiled and kissed Franziska again, contagion be damned. She stayed close, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Hey, maybe I'm getting off on it."

Franziska fell back against the pillows with an exaggerated exhale. "You're killing me. You're killing your girlfriend."

"Fiancée," Maya said, as though she had to remind her. "You agreed to marry this."

"And I shall," Franziska said. Another sneeze bent her double and it sounded worse than the last, thick and explosive, deeper in her chest.

“Gesundheit, babe."

#sicktember 2023 #ethereous writes

[acasualcrossfade]

The Fever Persists

Sicktember Day 8: Persistent Fever

Stranger Things: Steve Harrington/ Eddie Munson

Words: 500 | Rating: T

@sicktember | divider art by @saradika

Summary: Steve has a stubborn fever and cuddles up with Eddie.

Find me on Ao3!

Eddie clicked pause on Lord of the Rings as a sleeping Steve shifted against his chest. The man had fallen asleep somewhere in the halfway point of the movie, and still felt uncomfortably warm against Eddie’s bare chest. 

Steve’s cold had started with staccato sniffles that had grown into deep congestion and fever; the congestion had passed, but the fever refused to budge. It’d been four days and Eddie had done everything from medicine to tepid baths, but the fever seemed to hang on Steve like a second skin. It made Eddie bite his lip in worry.

“Hey sleepyhead." Eddie stroked Steve’s sweaty hair. “Sleep okay?”

Steve shifted and stretched, pressing harder against Eddie as he arched to stretch his back. “Mm, hi. How long was I out?”

“Couple hours,” Eddie replied, reaching for the thermometer on the nightstand. “Feeling okay?”

“Still achy,” Steve sighed. “Like my body is made of lead.” He curled tighter against Eddie. 

“We’ll have you better in no time.” Eddie held the thermometer. “Here, open up?”

Steve did and they waited together, watching the numbers climb. 

“102.4,” Eddie read with a long sigh after the device beeped. This fever was putting up a fight.

“You want to try some water?” Eddie asked, nodding towards the untouched glass on the nightstand.

Steve nodded slowly and pushed himself to sit up. He stifled a yawn against his hands. “Feel like I could sleep all day.” 

“If sleep helps, I’m not going to argue,” Eddie replied, holding the cup in place and glad when Steve finished half the water in small sips. “We’ve maxed you out on fever meds, but we could start a bath later?”

“No more baths,” Steve sighed heavily. He made himself comfortable against Eddie again. “I feel like I’ve spent most of the week in that tub.”

Eddie frowned, twirling a finger around a strand of Steve’s hair. “I don’t like that your fever hasn’t budged at all,” he sighed. “It’s been a few days.”

Steve was already closing his eyes. “Mm, always get fevers like this. They last forever,” he sighed. “Worried my mom, too, but sleep always helped.”

Eddie paused at the mention of Steve’s mom; he hardly brought up his parents and never so casually. He thought of a younger Steve, sick like this. “She was right to worry; I’ve never seen a more stubborn fever.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie and cuddled closer, pressing his sticky forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. “Thanks for stayin’ close,'' Steve mumbled. “The company helps.”

Eddie’s brow crinkled in thought. Had Steve just been left on his own to sleep off his fevers? And if this was a common occurrence, had no one sat with him to make sure he was okay? The thoughts threatened tears to brim, unshed, at the corners of his eyes. 

“M’not going anywhere,” Eddie replied, stroking Steve’s shoulder. “But we’re sticking you back in the bath if that fever gets any higher, okay?”

Steve gave a half-asleep smile. “Deal.”

#sicktember 2023 #sicktember2023 #sicktember day 8 #Persistent Fever #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #sick steve harrington #divider art by saradika

[stormkobra-5]

Heya its me again um you can completely ignore this request if its too much but um

Can i request (only if you are able to) the moonknight boys helping y/n grieving over losing a family member

I lost a family member today and would like some comfort you can ignore this request if its too much

Sorrow and Solace

Pairing: Moon Boys x Reader

Fic Type: Drabble

Summary: When you lose a family member, the boys are there to offer you any comfort they possibly can.

A/N: I'm honored you came to me of all people, nonnie. I hope I can write something good enough for this situation and helps you, buddy. I'm so sorry for your loss. I wish you all the love and comfort in the world.

Rating/Warnings: Dealing losing a family member (unspecified), processing grief, hurt/comfort

It was Marc fronting when you got the call.

He walked into the kitchen to find you holding your phone in a daze, frozen as your mind tried to process what you'd just heard. It was painful, this searing, dull grief. It rose up in your chest unexpectedly, like it had been an animal lying in wait, and lunged for your heart, tearing with icy claws.

Marc noticed your stance immediately. "...Babe? Everything okay?"

You didn't respond immediately, still processing the information. The loss of a family member is a life-changing event, and it surged up out of nowhere. You stagger into Marc's touch when he tentatively reaches for you. "...Baby? You okay?"

You burst into soft sobs, falling into his chest. He held you tightly and close, prepared for some unseen threat. "Hey, hey... Sh, sh, sh..." Rocking you in his arms, he maneuvered you to the couch, bringing you up onto his lap and cradling you in a snug embrace. With a glare that could have killed, he eyed your phone, which was laying on the floor where you'd dropped it, as if it were an enemy.

"Oy, what's happening?" Steven roused himself in the headspace clumsily, tripping over Jake. Their alter cursed in Spanish, trying to wrestle Steven down in their roughhousing way of communicating-- honestly, they were like rowdy misbehaved toddlers, and that was the very last thing you needed right now.

"Guys," Marc said softly as he rubbed your back, trying to hide his irritation. Once they heard your quiet sobs into his shoulder, felt the tight grip of your fists in his shirt, they immediately sprung to their feet and raced to see what was wrong with you.

"You wanna tell us what happened, mi vida?" Jake whispered softly in your ear as he took control of the body, brushing strands of tear-dampened hair out of your face. He pressed soft and tender kisses to your jaw, your temple, your forehead, trying to coax you into telling them what was wrong.

"I-I... um..." You tried to wipe your tears away with a shaky hand. "I-I just got some bad news..."

The boys stiffened, starting to understand. "You wanna talk about it?" Marc offered gently.

A part of you, in your grief-stricken mind, was comforted. It was rare for the boys to co-front, stubborn as they were-- literally, it's-my-turn-with-the-body kind of arguments have occurred and now they stick to a strict fronting schedule-- so usually they now only co-fronted if something extremely dire was happening, and the fact that they considered your well-being in that category was flattering.

"I-I just... um..." You swallowed hard, trying to manage to speak through your sobs enough to translate the reason for your current state. "I just found out that I lost somebody... I just lost somebody in my family."

Steven was the one who fronted then, mouth forming an 'o' of realization. "Oh, love..." He pulled you in to his embrace, kissing the top of your head and cradling you close.

They didn't want to say it's okay. They know that right now, it's not, it's far from, and instead of trying to push your feelings away, they think that you should perhaps let them process. Maybe its okay isn't what you need to hear, but maybe just a shoulder to cry on until it is okay.

"We're here for you, darling," Steven said, kissing your head. "We're right here for you."

Jake fronted, grabbing you by your waist and lifting you up a bit so that he could look you in the eyes. "What do you need us to do, mi vida?"

"Just..." You sniffled, falling back into him. "Just hold me for a little while, okay?"

"We can do that," Jake assured you, rubbing up and down your back. "We're gonna help you through this, mi vida."

Marc switched to the front, readjusting your position so that you were kind of laying on him across the couch. "We're gonna be here for you every step of this process, baby."

"Whatever you need, we're here, dove," Steven added, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

And they held true to that. They made sure that you remembered to eat, but if you couldn't stomach it, they made you drink water-- you drank so much water, it probably more than made up for all the tears you were shedding. They made sure you slept, and they called your work to get you a week or two off to process things more clearly. They stood by your side at the funeral, offering condolences to family members and respect for who was lost.

Every night, or really, any time you cried, they held you in their arms and lulled you to sleep. Sometimes they would sing or read to you, or try to make you laugh. And the day you finally smiled again, you don't think you'd ever seen them beam brighter. "Life keeps going, love," Steven told you one day, "It might hurt sometimes, and it might be hard, especially losing someone; but it keeps going. It doesn't wait for us. We'll meet everyone we've lost again one day, don't you worry. In the meantime, though, we have to stop and smell the roses, so to speak. Smile. That’s what we’re put here to do, innit? To love and laugh?”

“I know,” You said as you held onto him as if for dear life, nestling your head in his sweater-clad chest. “Thank you, guys. For being here for me.”

“Always,” Marc answered into your hair. “Now and forever.”

“We’ll never let you go through anything alone, mi vida,” Jake promised, pulling a blanket up over your shoulders. “You’re never alone. Remember that.”

————————————————————————

I hope this has comforted you, nonnie. I hope you do okay, and just remember we’re all here for you.

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #request #stormkobra 5 answers #asks #oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada