#I’m sure it would have been fine for me to go home immediately after a major surgery with no oxygen or saline or pain relief

[harryspurpleloofah]

Hii,

I just had this idea where like y/n and harry are alrrady together. Y/n sings really well, write her own songs and even record them, but is too shy to show anyone so she just keeps them to herself. However Harry came across one of her recorded songs and just FELL IN LOVE with them.

Thank you!!🥰

Hi love! I started this writing blog recently and you’re officially my first request, this means so much thanks! I’ll do my best.

You could give me a run for my money

TW: swearing, smut at the end, Oral fem receiving, p in v sex, unprotected sex but they’re trying for a bub (use protection in real life please loves), tit sucking

The sun was setting behind the gorgeous skyscrapers of London. She hummed as she cut the vegetables for the lasagne Harry requested that night. He was working overtime at the studio tonight and she wanted to make sure she made a nice cozy meal for him.

She hummed to the tune of her latest song. She did this all the time when she was home alone when she got bored all by herself (and their cat Bowie, yes named after the rockstar. Harry’s idea but she didn’t object since she loved him too)

She was writing a little piece which was inspired all around her life and she had a basic tune for it but she kept getting stuck on the pre chorus. She hummed it again and again with the ending changing everytime she tried it.

Harry got in that same time. He closed the door quietly behind him. He heard her from the kitchen and tried to figure out what she was singing. He loved hearing her sing but she never did. For him sometimes, when she was drunk she would, but apart from that no way in hell. Especially in front of other people.

Then he realized was this another one of her own ones? He didn’t really know much since she never really told him either. He tried to listen in and it was beautiful. He snuck in slowly, and picked her up from behind to which she immediately erupted in laughs.

“Hi! You’re back.”

He smiled as he twirled her around and then put her down before pecking her cheek, “yes I am. How’re you baby?”

“I’m fine. Making lasagne.”

“Mm. Nice.”, he picks up a sliced tomato for the salad side and eats it. She smacks his hand, “stop that’s for the salad.”

“M’hungry.” He pouts.

“It’ll be done in just a bit. Go get something from the pantry till then.”

“Ok baby honey.”

He made his way to the pantry to start looking for food while humming..HER SONG??

“Where did you hear that?” She quickly asks

“Hm? You were humming it no?”

“I-..was I?”

“Yeah just as I came in. Banger tune babe. Who’s it by?” He closes the pantry and grabs a banana from their fruit basket instead.

“No one.”

“No one?”

“Nobody you’d know.”

“Hey I know everyone.”

“They’re really underground besides I forgot their name.”

“Look it up. Hey google, what song is this?” He opens his phone and hums the song. Obviously since the song isn’t out google has no clue. “That’s so weird honey. Even google doesn’t know.”

“Funny. Ok go have a shower I’ll put this in the oven.”

“I wanna know the song. It’s nice I wanna hear the rest of it.”

“Just leave it Harry.”

“But I-”

“Harry!”

“Whatt”

“Just move on”

He sighed, “ok but I just don’t get it why are you so pissed over a song?”

“Because it’s mine..”

“What?”

“I just like..make up little songs sometimes it was one of those”

“Wait wait wait! You’ve been making music this entire time?”

“Not this entire time..it was just recently. When you’d be at your studio. Basically remember you used to send me demos?”

“Mhm?”, he asks, chewing on the bite of banana.

“So I just used to get them stuck in my head then they’d only be half finished and I’d start making up my own endings for them. Then I couldn’t remember them so I wrote them down and I just started writing from there, but it’s nothing serious.”

“Have you ever recorded anything? Properly?”

She chuckles slightly, putting the knife down and turning around fully, “no. Not like you I just have some like…audio recordings nothing much.”

“Can I listen to one? Please?”

“No.”

“Please?? I really really want to.”

“Harry..”

“It can be my anniversary present.”

“A month early?”

“Yeah.”

She sighed. She handed him her phone to look through the recordings. His jaw dropped. They were fucking amazing. She took her phone, “ok enough.”

“Baby! You cannot be serious! This is so good!”

She smiles, genuinely feeling her heart warm. “Really?”

“Yes I love them.”

She wasn’t one of those people who knew her talents and still undermined them. If something she did was good she’d give herself the due credit. And she actually thought her songs were nice. But she didn’t want them out into the world. She just wasn’t ready for that sort of exposure yet.

“Baby?”

“Yes Harry?”

“Do you have like an instrumental back for this?”

“Yeah. It’s in the files on my computer why?”

“Cool…”

The next morning when she came downstairs he was on her computer.

“Haz?” She asked. “What are you doing?”

“Forget everything. Watch this.” He presses play. She’s shocked.

It’s her voice, her song, her music. He’d edited it all together and added a tiny bit of reverb and auto tune where needed. When the song finished he turned back to her, “isn’t it great?”

“I love it Harry..”

“So?”

“So what?”

“So should I talk to Jeff? Get you out there?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

“What?”

She frowned, “I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t..I wanna write for myself. Not anyone else.”

“Are you sure? We could really get you big. You could do this full time if you really enjoy it-”

“I don’t though Harry. I like my job this is just a hobby. I love it but not enough to do it full time. Not enough like you do.”

“Are you really sure my darling?”

“Yes. I don’t want it leaving this computer.”

Harry sighed, but then flashed her a grin, “you know what fine. Honestly m’happy.”

She smiled. “Why?”

“You could’ve been better than me baby. Thank god. You would’ve given me a run for my money.”

She laughed loudly, “really?”

“Honest. Now may I get some breakfast please?”

“Of course.”

“Or I could eat something else instead..”

“What?” She giggled

He looked her up and down ravishingly. “You perchance.”

“Huh. Let’s see..should I let you?”

“Yes. Please baby..”

She smiles.. “maybe.”

“That’s a yes,” he grabs her in a kiss, his tongue plunging into her mouth. He trailed kisses over her neck, reaching her tits. He took her shirt off and captured her lips once again before undoing the bra buckle and latching his mouth on a hardened peak.

He let out a moan muffled into her skin as she moaned and pushed herself into his mouth even more. His kisses trailed down her stomach then down to her thighs, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her panties and pulling them down with her trousers, lapping at the arousal already running down her thighs.

“God look at you. So ready for me.” He licked a strip upwards, provoking a moan from her again. He ravaged her completely, focusing on her clit, sucking on it gently, flicking it with his tongue, not stopping despite her fingers tangling in his hair, her legs trying to squeeze shut in pleasure.

“Fuck Harry..please..I need to cum.”

“You will baby. Very soon. Just hang on two seconds for me I want you to cum on my cock yeah?”

“Yes-yeah please.”

He nudged her clit with the head of his hardened cock before pushing in with a grunt moan mix. “Yes fuck you’re so tight baby.”. He thrusted deeper, harder. He kept going until her moans were getting louder, her breath quicker and her pussy was clenching on his cock. “Ok love. Cum for me now.” He allowed her. She didn’t hesitate, costing his dick in her sweet juices.

It took mere seconds before he came with a groan, shooting hot loads into her womb. They’d been talking about hanging a baby. This wasn’t one of their planned tries but every thing counts? He gently pulled out of her and kissed her forehead.

“You were so good for me angel. Did you like it?”

“Yes Harry-god I loved it.”

“Good. You wait till tonight then.”.

[woundedheartwithin]

According to my insurance, appealing a denied claim can result in two different outcomes:

❌ appeal granted and claim approved in app

❌ appeal denied and letter sent in mail

✅ secret third thing (appeal and claim both ignored entirely)

[augustinewrites]

“babe. baaaabe. babe!”

“what, satoru?” you ask sharply, looking up from your laptop to where your boyfriend has spread himself across your couch, his legs in shoko’s lap. 

he lifts his shades to look at you. “was i your first crush?”

“yes,” you answer quickly.

you immediately return to the report you’re writing, missing the face shoko makes before she says, “that’s not true.” 

“ieiri,” you whisper harshly, but it’s too late. your boyfriend’s already jumped off the couch to lean his palms against your desk. 

“what? i wasn’t your first?!”

“you were,” you insist, glaring at your friend. “shoko is clearly misremembering things.”

“am i though?”

“you know what, it’s fine,” gojo sighs, slipping his shades back on and rolling the sleeve of his t-shirt up so he can flex. “obviously i’m way cooler than whatever lame schmuck high school you was crushing on.”

behind him, shoko’s scoff is the final nail in your coffin. “nanami is way cooler than you ever were.”

you slap your forehead, bracing yourself for gojo’s inevitable overreaction. 

but he doesn’t get the chance, interrupted by a light knock against your doorframe from, you guessed it, nanami kento.

“yaga said you wanted to see me?”

cue overreaction.

“you had a crush on— on him?” 

nanami swats gojo’s finger away from his cheek. 

“oh my god,” your boyfriend breathes, currently experiencing a quarterlife crisis. “you liked this emo nemo?”

nanami ignores him, sending you a questioning look. “he doesn’t know?”

“what is it now?” satoru asks, slumping back into the couch. “did you guys go on a date or something?” 

your lack of answer is enough for him to let his head fall back rather dramatically. 

“can you blame her?” shoko asks. “he was sexy back then. in an edgy, mysterious kind of way. meanwhile, you were like…if a string bean made love to a cauliflower.” 

even gojo doesn’t have a witty retort prepared for that. 

you decide to clear this up once and for all. “it wasn’t just about looks. you were busy after— after riko. you didn’t have time for a relationship or…for me. you wanted to get stronger and i didn’t want to get in your way.”

“you wouldn’t have been—”

“i would have.” you shrug. because you know him, and you know what he was like. “and that’s okay because we were still kids, satoru. and it was only one date! no need to get so torn up about it!”

_____

“what is this?” you ask later that night, when you find satoru hauling a huge box into your apartment.

“it’s a bowflex!” gojo explains proudly, patting the unopened box. “shoko said that i was built like a string bean, so i’m gonna buff up like nanami! and when megumi moves out next year, i’m gonna turn his room into a gym.”

you lean in the doorway, amused. nanami also has a home gym. “is that why you’re also wearing a suit and tie instead of your usual uniform?”

he does a show spin, letting you take it all in. you don’t even want to know how much it must have cost. “do you like it?” 

“you do look very handsome.” 

“i know,” he winks, cocky as ever. “now watch this.”

he brushes a few strands of hair over his eyes, lowering his voice a few octaves as he says, “taxes. office work. satoru, i respect you so much!”

you walk up to him, brushing the hair back to press a kiss to his forehead. “nanami would never say that last thing, but i do like the effort.” 

he loops his arms around your waist, returning the kiss and murmuring against your skin, “did it turn you on though? maybe i should get an office job—”

“satoru,” you whine, resting your forehead against his chest. “it was just a short-lived crush. and it was forever ago! i’m pretty sure you’ve had crushes that weren’t me.”

“nope,” he hums, resting his chin atop your head. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve ever needed…is you.” 

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + POST SHIBUYA HURT/COMFORT

following Shibuya, the Jujutsu boys are in dire need of some comfort

featuring: nanami, yuuji, megumi, maki, inumaki, yuta, gojo

word count: 4.7k (600-700 words per character)

cw: canon divergence for nanami and gojo, season 2 spoilers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries, everyone needs a hug, some fluff ig, established relationships, not proofread

NANAMI

“He woke up,” Shoko informs you, closing the room to Kento’s door behind her. She doesn’t bother with small talk, gives only the necessary information since Shibuya. You don’t blame her. You understand why she would choose to keep her energy for what she thinks is essential. So when she approaches you, hands buried in her pockets, you know there is something she believes is that important to tell you.

“Is he— Has he said anything?”

“He thanked me — you know how he is. But, um— he’s lost an eye, and he’s badly burned. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry.”

She sounds genuinely dejected, but you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter. Without you, he wouldn’t be alive. Can I—”

She gives you a faint smile.

“Sure. You can go in.”

You don’t wait for her to have finished her sentence to open the door. Kento looks up at you, and you take him in for a second. An eye patch covers his left eye, and that whole side of his body is burnt, badly, with fresh bandages covering it. It doesn’t stop you from launching himself into his arms, and he catches you without missing a beat.

“You’re alive,” is all you can say, repeating it like a mantra.

“I am,” he answers. “I apologize for worrying you.”

So very like him, apologizing while he’s lying on a hospital bed after suffering from horrific injuries.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” you whisper into his neck, tears rolling freely from your cheeks. “I don’t— I don’t—” I don’t know how I would have kept living without you.

His eye is filled with fondness and love, when he looks at you.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask, gesturing at his left side.

“It does not,” he answers. “Shoko’s abilities are quite remarkable for that. I am healed. The bandages are mostly to stop the skin from becoming too dry — due to the size of the area, she couldn’t do it all herself.”

“Then… can I kiss you?”

He swallows around the lump in his throat. If he is honest, when Shoko talked to him after he woke up, one of his greatest fears was that you would be disgusted by him. He knows you find him handsome — found him handsome, at least. He knows that this was thinking far too little of you, and yet relief washes over him at your question.

“You can always kiss me.”

You’re cautious when you do, don’t want to risk hurting him, despite what he’s just told you. Your lips feel like coming home, and he loses himself in you, if only for a moment. All too soon, he feels the need to pull away for air. Even with Shoko’s miracle work, he feels weak, a sensation he finds himself hating with his entire being. He likes being strong, likes being your rock, likes supporting you in any situation. He despises the fact that that has been taken away from him.

“I think it would be for the best if I spent the night here,” he tells you. “The chair isn’t very comfortable, so if you wish to go home, I wouldn’t—”

You shake your head immediately.

“I’m not leaving you anytime soon. I’m spending the night here. I’m sure I can find a pillow and a blanket somewhere, and I will be just fine with that.”

Aren’t you just adorable when you’ve made up your mind?

“If that is okay with you, that’s fine with me,” he nods. “But, first…” He opens his arm on the right side. “Would you join me?”

There isn’t much space in the bed for the two of you, but you make it fit, leaning against the wall so he can have his head against your chest. Even though he wants nothing more than to revel in the moment, he feels his eyes closing, lulled by the beating of your heart and your fingers carding through his hair.

He loves taking care of you but he supposes that, for the time being, it won’t be too bad if he’s the one being taken care of.

YUUJI

Finding Yuuji following the Shibuya Incident requires you to venture into the belly of Tokyo, making your way through curse after curse, stepping over the bodies of sorcerers and humans alike, never taking the time to stop. At least Megumi had warned you that he was likely to keep moving, so you hadn’t given up hope yet, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid for him. Not physically, no, you didn’t think there was anything left here that could actually hurt him, but, based on what Megumi had told you, his head hung low, you can only imagine how devastated he must be.

You spot him when he finishes off a curse, on a rooftop near you. It isn’t long before you land there yourself, and there he is.

“Yuuji!”

He freezes when you call out his name, and turns towards you oh so slowly. When he looks at you, you could almost cry with relief. There he is, your Yuuji. A little worse for wear, but alright. You take a step towards him, ready to run into his arms, when he takes a step back.

A tall man wearing a kimono, his hair tied into two buns, lands in front of him, between the two of you.

“Who is that?” he asks Yuuji. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

There is quiet resolution in his voice. He doesn’t sound like he wants to kill you, but you don’t think he would hesitate to do it.

“N-no,” Yuji says, his voice hoarse. “No, it’s alright, Choso. Would you mind…?”

The man nods, still not showing any emotions.

“Of course. I’ll give the two of you some space.”

He throws you a threatening glance — as if you could ever be a threat to Yuuji — before jumping off the building.

You take another step forward. This time, Yuuji doesn’t move, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Don’t,” he says. He sounds weak.

Another step.

“Why not?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ve killed—” A deep, shuddering breath. “—so many people.”

Step.

“That wasn’t you.”

You say it softly, gently, but you’re not sure that he can hear you, as he is now.

“It’s still my fault.”

His voice is no stronger than a whisper.

“It was Sukuna’s doing.” Step. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Step.

You’re close to him now, close enough to see his hands balled up into fists, his lower lip trembling, how he scrunches his face so he doesn’t cry.

“Yuji,” you call, and in your mouth, his name sounds like a term of endearment. “It’s not your fault.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t have anything more to say. He wants so, so badly to believe you, but his heart, his mind, and Sukuna’s voice in the back of his head are all whispering that you’re lying. When you reach him, your hands go up to his face, cradle it like it’s a precious porcelain. You trace the scar on his forehead, stroke the one on his lip with your thumb, and then you press your lips against it with great care.

And he falls apart.

Your arms are around him as he lets himself fall to the ground, and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck as he sobs, let him hold on to you like a drowning man to a lifeline. You stroke the back of his head gently. The motion is soothing. Soft. Loving.

“I’m a monster,” he chokes, and tears fill your eyes.

“You’re not,” you promise, voice breaking. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He gasps like he’s breathing for the first time in days, and you keep him there, in your arms. He’s not okay yet — won’t be for a long time. But he’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s moving forward, one small step at a time.

You will be here to support him until he can stand on his own again.

No matter how long it takes.

MEGUMI

Megumi has always been the quiet type. He keeps his feelings close to his chest, lets people in on his thoughts only in spare, carefully chosen sentences. He turns away if emotions overwhelm in, deals with the worst of it privately, would never let anything spill out if he could help him. Emotions are his problems, and he cannot bear the thought of them hurting someone other than him.

Still, you’ve always been able to read him. The softness in his eyes when he looks at Yuuji and Nobara, the smile he doesn’t quite allow to make its way to his lips when Gojo decides to spoil him, the way he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest so he can hide his face in your neck, even if you can spot his ears turning red. The way the corner of his lips turn down, too, when his mind drifts towards Tsumiki, the twitch in his jaw when someone brings up his father, the clench of his fists when he feels hopeless.

You can read him like a book.

He is even quieter when he comes back from Shibuya, and his emotions are expressed even more minutely, blink and you’ll miss it.

You can only watch from the audience in one of the numerous meetings that follow his return. Him and a number of other sorcerers testify, and you have to hear him recounting the same details over and over. You’re here to see, helpless, how he lowers his gaze when several sorcerers recommend Yuuji’s execution, and how his eyes dull when his sentencing is pronounced.

But he never comes to you. At first, you assume he can’t — there are a number of physicals for him to clear. You reason that he must be exhausted, must want his space for now, and resolve to give it to him. It’s on the day of the last council, when he averts his eyes to avoid meeting yours, that you realize what was happening.

He’s been avoiding you.

It’s a half-hearted attempt, one that comes to an end when you knock against the open door to his room. He doesn’t look up at you when he answers.

“Come in.”

His room is almost bare, but you know he keeps pictures from the two of you in his drawers.

You sit on the bed next to him, let your knee brush against his. He doesn’t move away.

“I haven’t seen you since you came back,” you say. You know better than to broach the subject directly, wouldn’t want to spook him.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I just came to check in on you.”

He’s quiet for longer than he should be.

“…I have to go back out there. I have to talk to Itadori.”

You read between the lines. You know that he would give you more than that if he felt he could, understand that he is trying to make this as painless for you as he can.

You reach for his hands and squeeze it.

“Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“…you sure?”

You know that’s not the question he’s asking. You know he wants you to feel able to yell at him, protest, scream until there’s nothing left of the two of you, all so that you will feel better, even if he leaves unloved and a little more shattered than he was when he arrived.

“I’m sure.”

The sigh of relief he lets out sounds more like a sob. Next thing you know, he’s letting his head drop onto your shoulder, black hair tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry. Can I— Can I just stay like this a little longer? Please?”

You keep yourself still, reach up to cup his cheek, stroke it softly.

“As long as you need.”

He moves his head so he can press a kiss to your cheek, lets his lips linger there longer than he needs to. When he turns around, you see he’s turned crimson.

The outside world might have turned into hell, but this room hasn’t yet.

In here, the two of you can hope that simpler, happier times will come again some day.

MAKI

Maki supposes that there are worse ways to wake up than with her head in your lap. By the time she comes to, Reverse Cursed Technique has done its job — mostly. If she could muster it, she would be glad that she wasn’t awake to feel it processing. It’s always felt foreign to her, and she hates feeling it on her body.

What she hates more, though, is the tingling of the burns on her face and body.

“Isn’t there anything to be done about that?” you’re asking Shoko when her eyes flutter open. You’re mindlessly running your fingers over the scarred skin, and it feels fresh and soothing.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko says, sounding exhausted but always taking the time to answer students’ concerns. “RCT can’t fix burns. Non-sorcerers have done some progress in that domain, I think. Maybe she’ll want to look into it.”

“I hope she won’t care,” you mumble.

“Why,” Maki asks, and you look down at her in shock, “is it that bad?”

She pushes herself up, looking around for her glasses, but stops when she realizes both you and Shoko are staring at her, mouth gaping.

“You’re something else,” Shoko finally comments, a tired grin forming on her lips. “Thought you’d be asleep for at least another day. Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the next room, alright?”

She leaves with a wave of her hand, some of the weight of the past week taken off her shoulders, now that she’s done her work.

When Maki turns to look back at you, you already have her glasses in your hand. You’re careful when you pass the branches over her ears to put them on her, and she lets you do it, studying your expression. Your eyes are red from crying, and you look tired, too, but at least she cannot see any injuries on you.

“So?” she raises an eyebrow at you, and her skin stretches uncomfortably. “Do I really look that terrible?”

You shake your head and smile at her, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“You’re as stunning as always. I’d just hate it if you thought otherwise.”

She leans into your touch, closing her eyes. Her whole body aches. She cannot pinpoint any real physical pain, but there is an overall soreness  that she wants to stretch out. She would, if she could bear the thought of losing your touch, if only for a second.

“What about my hair?” she asks, trying to add a playful inflexion to her tone. “Don’t tell me you let them do whatever they wanted with it.”

You shake your head, mirroring her expression.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you say with a fake eyeroll. “I’ll have you know it looks super stylish.”

She nods, then turns her head to kiss the inside of your palm. She likes the way it flusters you, how you bite your lip and glance away to hide it from her.

“Do you— do you want to hear about what else has happened?”

Her smile dims, and she shakes her head.

“Can I get a minute of this first?” Her voice comes out hoarser than she would like. “Y-you can tell me afterwards. I just— I just need a minute.”

“Of course,” you reply, softly.

When you open your arms, she doesn’t hesitate a second to plunge in. She rests her cheek against your chest, and you wrap her in a tight hug that she returns without missing a beat. You’re warm and soft, as you always are.

She’ll get back to fighting, to throwing her whole body in the line of fire soon enough, that is a promise. She’ll mourn the dead, she’ll shed tears.

But first, she gets a minute of respite, in the arms of the only person that can give it to her.

INUMAKI

You rush through the emergency room, unbridled fear in your veins. The place is a morgue. There are more dead than living in here, and you’d be horrified if your mind wasn’t focused on one person and one person only — one that you cannot find. Cursed energy is no use right now, not with the place being such a mess.

“Ieiri!” you finally call when you see her passing by, pale as a corpse, not examining a body for more than handful of seconds before moving on to the next. “Where— Where is Toge?”

She looks straight through you. The dark circles under her eyes are even deeper than usual.

“Alive. That way.”

She point vaguely in a direction and then she’s gone, but it’s all you need. You find yourself running, unceremoniously opening and closing doors in your desperate search for him. When you find him, you could almost cry in relief.

“Toge,” you call, and you’re afraid your legs will give in underneath you.

He looks at you with wide eyes — eyes that you love so much, because they always say everything his lips can’t. Despite everything that’s happened tonight, they’re full of life, and that is the sight you’d been hoping for the most.

It’s only after looking inside that you realize what’s happened to his arm.

You walk over to him, sit on the chair next to his bed. He holds his hand out for you to take, and when you do, he squeezes it between his fingers, three times. His own, silent way of saying ‘I love you’. You lean forward, resting your elbows on the bed and hanging your head low.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper. “I was so scared.”

You feel his lips on the top of your head, and you cannot help but smile. It feels selfish, smiling in such circumstances, when so many people have lost their lives and their loved ones. But you’re reunited with him, and it is the only reaction that feels appropriate. You look up at him. Without his usual clothes, the seal on his mouth is on full display.

“Do you want a scarf?” you ask, gesturing at your bag. You always carry one, as well as cough syrup, just in case.

Fondness flashes in his eyes, but he shakes his head. Reluctantly, he lets go of your hand to tap on his phone. The movements are clumsy, and a knot forms in your throat, watching him do it, but you can’t think of anything to do to help him.

‘No need,’ the phone reads when he turns it back towards you. And then, after a line break ‘Sukuna attacked.’

You’d hear about that. You… had just hoped it wasn’t true.

“So, Itadori…?”

“Bonito flakes,” he answers, shaking his head. Silence falls on the room.

You usually like silence with him. It feels comfortable, like an old friend you’re happy to welcome. Tonight, though, you feel the need to blurt out “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

His lips turn downward, and he gestures at his arm dejectedly, but you shake your head, and you stand up so you can sit on the bed, by his legs. You grab his hand in both of yours.

“I would take anything as long as it means you’re back here with me. I know— I know it’s selfish, but I just— You’re everything.”

Toge presses his forehead against yours when you start crying. Gently, he frees his hand so he can wipe the tears running down your cheeks. He doesn’t get to express his emotions freely, so you do it for the two of you, that’s how it’s always been between you. That doesn’t stop him from tilting your chin so he can press his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you,” you say for the both of you.

He wishes he could tell you that he hasn’t felt like he’d truly made it back from Shibuya until he saw you walking through the door.

When he kisses you again, he thinks you’re aware of it.

YUTA

“They agreed to entrust me with Itadori’s execution,” Yuta tells you when he finds you, anxiously waiting for him to come out of his meeting with the higher-ups. “I had to take a binding vow, but that won’t be a problem.”

He says it so casually, and you can’t help but sigh. Immediately, his eyes fill with worry.

“Is something wrong?”

You can feel his eyes scanning you, looking for an injury, and that brings a faint smile out of you. As if anything could hurt you here, in one of the last jujutsu strong place in Japan.

“I just wish you wouldn’t have to do that,” you admit with a shrug. “I wish there was another solution.” I wish you didn’t think the weight of the world is yours to take now that Gojo isn’t here to bear it.

“Oh!” He lights up, and you hate that he feels relief, because to him, it is inconsequential as long as it’s happening to him. “That’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Well, someone has to, since he won’t do it himself. You reach for his hand, fiddling with his fingers, and you can’t help but smile when you feel him freeze. You can’t believe he still reacts to your touch that way, no matter how many times you do it.

“Breathe,” you say, glancing up at him.

He flushes when he realizes he was, indeed, holding his breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He doesn’t have to apologize, but he always does.

“Then I’ll go and keep an eye on Toge and Maki,” you decide. “I heard Maki’s recovering well, but I’ll see if there’s anything more they need. Maybe I’ll help Toge get back to his family.”

Yuta hesitates.

“You don’t— You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

Ha. Guilty as charged. You’re just trying to take some of the weight off his shoulders so he won’t have to carry it all alone. You wrap your arms around his neck, smile when he turns even redder. He doesn’t move away from you though, and, after hesitating, he even closes his hands on your waist. The touch is feather-light, and you think he’d take them off if you breathed a little too hard. But it’s there, and he’s come a long way, truly.

“I know. I just want to.”

He’s crimson, but his eyes still soften at your words. With a sigh, he leans his forehead against yours.

“What have I done to get this lucky?” he marvels, and he sounds so loving you think you might just melt in your spot.

“You deserve the world,” you answer truthfully.

He lets out an embarrassed laugh that you interrupt with a kiss. His lips are soft and cautious against yours, and he is nothing but tender. You know he’s doing his best to restrain himself, both because you’re in a public space where someone could walk by and because it takes a lot more to get him out of his shell.

“Wh-what was that for?” he asks when you pull away, a pout in his voice.

“For luck,” you hum in reply. “You better come back to me.”

His fingers tighten on your waist. He doesn’t want to let go. If he could shut the whole world out and live only in your arms, he thinks he would do it in a heartbeat. But there are people out there who need saving, and you know even you can’t stop him from going to help them.

“I’ll keep your friends safe until then, okay?”

No matter what you tell him, he still doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve you. That means he should let go of you, be on his way and wish you well on yours. Instead, in an impulsive move, he wraps his arms tighter around your waist to pull you flush against his chest in a tight hug.

You laugh in surprise and hug him back, and in that moment, he is absolutely certain that there is nothing that could stop him from coming back to you.

GOJO

“Guess who’s back!” Satoru calls when he walks into your home as if nothing’s happened, as if you haven’t spent hours on the phone with various sorcerers, trying to understand what on earth was happening and if he was even still alive.

You turn to look at him with daggers in your eyes, and you want to scream, but you don’t find the words when you take in the sight of him. There’s blood on his face that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off, his clothes are torn, the blindfold he’s holding in his hand is in an even sorrier state, and despite the smile on his face, you don’t think there is a muscle to his body that isn’t in a state a tension.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He shrugs, walks across the room to grab a towel that he vigorously rubs against his face.

“I’m always okay.”

The sentence sounds empty, and you’re about to go up to him when he drops the towel to move towards the bathroom with a groan.

“It’s not coming off,” he says before splashing his face with water.

You follow him and watch as he repeatedly rinses his face. The blood has long come off, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with it. He pours generous amounts of soap on his hands, but there is nothing more to take off there. You wait a few seconds more before joining him. You still his hand with a pressure of his wrist, clean off the remaining soap, and cut off the water. He lets you do it, just as he lets you guide him back to the bed to sit down.

“What happened?” you urge him, keeping his hands in yours. He feels so far away, even if he’s sitting inches from you, and you’re desperate to bring him back to you.

Long seconds go by before he answers you.

“I made a mistake,” he finally says, words pulled out like teeth. “That’s what happened.”

You would tell him that everyone makes mistakes, but you know what’s prompting this. He isn’t everyone. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the one in charge of preserving the balance of the world after he’s irremediably altered it simply from being born.

Your hands come up to his face, and you trace his jaw with careful fingers. He closes his eyes. Lets you ground him. He can’t think of anything else he needs more right now.

“You’ve done so much,” you whisper. “I’ve been talking to Shoko — she says that without you, human losses would be much worse.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“That is always true.”

Coming from someone else, it would sound like bragging, but you know that Satoru is only stating a fact. He always saves the day, which makes this so, so much worse. You climb on the bed behind him, start massaging his shoulders. Despite himself, he can’t help but relax into your touch. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that, deserves the comfort you’re bringing to him, and yet, as always, he’s powerless against you.

“But wasn’t the point always that your students would be able to take over?” you ask, softly. “And they did. They saved you. Sounds to me like you did well, Satoru.”

Did he? Sure doesn’t feel like it.

“Hm, I guess Yuji and Megumi did real well tonight,” he admits, and he lets himself lean back into your arms fully. “Just wish… Just wish it hadn’t turned out like that.”

You press a kiss to his temple, and he sighs. He doesn’t think he will be okay again tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either — maybe not before a long time.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

His eyes follow as you walk back into the bathroom.

“You’ll join me?”

A smile flashes on your face.

“Sure.”

He won’t be okay any time soon, but with you by his side, he thinks he can at least try to get there again someday.

thank you for reading! as a note, gojo's piece is written under the hypothesis that he was unsealed but unsealed before the end of the night. I hope you enjoyed these pieces, please consider reblogging and/or letting me know your thoughts in a comment, interactions are the best way of supporting me and of keeping me writing ^-^

more jujutsu kaisen x reader here (primarily gojo x reader)

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

“You alright, sweetheart?” Simon’s deep, gruff voice hit your ears, pulling your out of your thoughts. 

You nodded without a sound, subtly trying to divert your gaze so that he wouldn’t look into your eyes and see all the emotion swimming inside, but at this point you really didn’t need to answer the question. The way you sit across from him with your brow furrowed into two steep peaks and your shoulders slumped forward and tight as you idly picked at the skin around your fingernails was enough of a sign. Even though you tried to dismiss him with a few muttered “I’m fine” and “It’s nothing” phrases, the man knew; whatever it was had been eating away at you for some time. 

Turning his full attention to you he took your chin into his coarse grasp and tilted your head upward until your eyes met. “Then why can’t ya even look at me?” he posed his next question. 

You let out a sigh, nowhere to run now as Simon wasn’t gonna let you back out. “It’s just…silly...” 

An incident had been on your mind for a week now, something that should have been resolved already, but try as you might to let it go it just couldn’t be shaken. A new younger female recruit had got it into her head that she wanted a piece of the huge, mysterious Lieutenant and began to flaunt that young, supple body in his direction. Simon had not allowed it to continue for even a second after that initial encounter, making sure that you knew everything in detail, and immediately she was reprimanded and reassigned, but the damage had been done to your confidence.

Were you really right for him? Were you enough? You had never really thought of yourself as ugly, but when pitted up against some pretty thing that had the freshness of young beauty on her side, you weren’t so sure if you could really compare and that made your usual abundance of self-confidence drop to nearly zero. 

Amber eyes gazed back at you as Simon waited patiently for your reply. Taking a deep, calming breath you continued. “I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you made the right choice,” you said.

“And what choice is that, hmm?” he pushed, letting you use your words even though he was sure where this was headed.

“Choosing me,” you said so softly it was barely above a whisper.

Just as he suspected, it was still bothering you and he kicked himself for not doing more before now to show you that there was no one on base or even in the whole fucking world that could compare to what he had with you. There was no one up until now that had ever kept him so tightly wound as you did that he constantly felt like he couldn't get you out of his head, that he never could get enough of you; it was a constant struggle just to keep sane so that he could do his job when he knew what would be waiting for him when he got home.

That’s why it took nothing for him to know exactly what it was that he needed to do now.

Without a word the grip on your chin was released as Simon stood to his feet. He reached down and took a hold of your hand, giving it a good, solid tug. “Come on,” he beckoned with a nod of his head to stand with him and through a bit of stubborn reluctance, you followed.

As soon as you were on your feet he pulled you into his hard, warm chest, leaning his head in close until you could feel his breath against your lips. “Of all the fuckin' mistakes I've made in my life, ya ain't one of 'em. I think someone needs a bit of extra attention, and I was a fuckin' fool waitin' till now to give it to her,” he murmured, his voice lowering into that register that always sent shivers down your spine. “Let me take care of ya, let me turn that brain of yours off for a bit and show ya how sure I am that I made the right choice.”

Before you could answer, his lips had already connected with your own to steal the words right out of your mouth. If there was one thing that experienced military man was superior at it was making you come apart at the seams like it was his fucking job. And boy did he take pride in his work.

But right here and now he would be even more meticulous in his affections as it was clear you needed to be reminded that you and only you were the best goddamn thing to grace his miserable existence. All of his undivided attention would be yours tonight and he would not stop until every single worry had left that pretty little head.

Promises were breathed into your mouth by him. "I'm not stoppin' until ya know just how fuckin' much I don't want anyone else besides ya."

In a flurry of lips and tangled limbs, you found your way over to the bed. Like a surgeon performing a delicate operation, he carefully removed each article of your clothing one by one, making sure that the exposed skin was immediately caressed and attended to before he moved on to the next. Every inch of skin on you would feel the passion in his embrace. By the time you hit the mattress’ surface, your body was already a tingling mess of nerve ends bursting to life in ways that made your mind numb.

The lights had been turned down low, their soft incandescent glow warm and inviting as the breathy sounds of unspoken desires from a man consumed filled the air. It was hard to think of anything as the thick tension permeated the space while you lay there naked sprawled out across the sheets with Simon at your side. Adoration was what he was after tonight, needing you to be left as nothing more than a puddle of pure bliss in the middle of his bed.

Toughened fingers traced all of those subtle imperfections lining your body with such tenderness as if each scar and blemish and indention were incredibly precious to him; his lips followed not far behind as he whispered praises into your skin. Those gentle words that were only for your ears alone as he couldn’t have people thinking he was going soft…even though he absolutely had been since the moment he got with you.

“How could ya ever think I would want anythin’ other than this, other than ya?" he breathed the question into the skin of your torso. “You're all I could ever want, all I fuckin’ think about; the best goddamn thing to ever happen to me. My pretty girl.” 

His nose nuzzled against the crook of your neck and he caught that scent: the smell of your body’s natural musk that just one whiff of could make his head fuzzy and his body tingle in a way he could not describe. All those beautifully fragrant notes that combined together to create a profile that was distinct to you so that even if he couldn’t see you he knew you were near. Closing his eyes, he breathed you in deep.

“Christ, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful, sweetheart,” he purred into the warm skin of your shoulder before he was on the move, lips caressing over the swell of your breasts with nipples already stiff. “I just can’t ever get enough of ya. How could ya ever fuckin' think I'd give up all this for some young tart who'd get sick 'a me sooner rather than later? Fuck, you’re all I want, all I'll eva fuckin' need.”

Down, down, down he continued over the length of your stomach towards your thighs. It was like performing a sacred act, him giving you the full breadth of his overwhelming desire as he made his way from your lips to your legs, getting everything in between. He shot a hungry glance back up at you as he reached those pillowy creations that he loved so much.

He sighed. "Every inch of ya is like a goddamn dream."

Extra time he spent on your thighs as he embraced those voluptuous curves over and over again with his mouth, kissing and sucking, running his nose along them until you were whining and writhing beneath him. Shit, he had not even touched anywhere near your throbbing clit yet and still you could not stop the way your heart pounded out of your chest or your short, sticcatoed breathing that filled the silence. 

“Please,” the plea fell from your open mouth, but there was no need to beg. This was your night after all and he was not about to deny you of anything.

"Whatever my pretty girl wants she's gonna fuckin' get," he smiled. "Always."

Slowly Simon’s large hands spread you open just wide enough that he could lean his face into your mossy bank. More delicate kisses were dotted over your petals, his mouth embracing all around that tender slit before his tongue gently slipped inside the folds. All that doting on your body had done it’s job in stimulating so that he was met with a wetness on his tongue as he dived in. 

Shit were you sweet, like eating a peach except this one would not run out before he had gotten his fill. 

That masterful tongue drew short, concise circles around your clit, lips locking around the bud intermittently to suck, using the two techniques in tandem while his nails drug lightly over your thighs until your were bucking against his face. There was no rush in his movements; he was going to take his time in drawing out your pleasure. 

You couldn’t make a sound, your mind consumed completely with every flick of his tongue, every press of it firmly against you, every pass of his hands over your thighs; overstimulated doesn’t even begin to describe it. Eyes closed, mouth wide open, desperate music being moaned into the room was all you could muster as he brought you closer and closer to the precipice of your pleasure. 

Leisurely Simon lapped at your clit, no rush, no hurry, with measured strokes that eased you pleasantly into your orgasm instead of violently throwing you over. You came so effortlessly that you are able to ride out that wave of ecstasy for minutes as his pace stayed at that steady rhythm until there was no more left for you to give. Only then did he emerge like a man baptized anew. 

By the time he finally thrust inside you, you were a glorious mess of sweat and mewls and cum. He took you right on your back, needing to see that look in your eyes that made him feel like he was your whole world. No muscle-straining positions will he put you in tonight as all he wants is to gaze down at the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Do ya think I have any doubts now?” he asked with a muted smile. "Think I could do this with just anyone?"

Your cheeks, already warm and pink, flushed bright crimson. “No,” you shook your head.

“That's a good girl,” he praised as he adjusted your legs to be comfortable around his thick torso. “Then let’s finish this off right, yeah? You and me, sweetheart.”

Slow, even thrusts he pounded into you, stretching you and filling you full even at this angle, as he met your lips again to nearly choke you on all his passion. You could taste yourself on his breath as he claimed you body and soul. 

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good, just wanna stay buried in ya all the time,” he groaned between precise thrusts through your tight, moist core. Your body was paradise and he could not get enough. Pulling back he watched the connection of your bodies right at the point where he slipped inside of you. You were so full of him there was no distinction between where he ended and you began.

Simon was never a religious man, most of the time as far from it as humanly possible, but the closest he would ever come to faith was the moment he got his first feel of all that glory that first time you two went at it. It was then that your body became his church and from then on he was more than ready to give his life to worshiping at your alter with his fingers and tongue and cock; any and all instruments at his disposal to show you his unwavering devotion. 

That man had been starved for far longer than he would like to admit, but the first time he buried himself in you that was all it took to fill him up. It was only you that he craved: your softness and warmth and light and no one else would ever do. As much as you were his, he was yours.

His hands ran up the sides of your torso, leaving burning trails that made you shiver as he palmed both of your breasts in each one of his hands to massage the flesh. “I want ya to come for me again,” he said, more need in his voice. “Can ya do that for me pretty girl?”

Rapidly you nodded your head up and down as you focused on what was coming.

“That’s it; wanna be sure my girl gets everything she needs to stay satisfied with me.”

There was a feeling of safety and security that you got when you were with him; no matter how rough or passionate the sex got, Simon was always right there with you in the moment so that you never felt that it was one sided. Right now that feeling spread through you along with the gathering warmth in your abdomen to help you get out of your head and let go. All those worries, all those fears, they left completely as he thrust inside you a few more times and you spilled over the edge once more.

He kissed you hard on the mouth, holding your raw lips together once more as he followed right after you. His shoulder shook as his released himself and fell into that high that he would never tire of- not when it was with you. As he let go of your lips, he smiled back down at you; that glow of ecstasy causing his heart to skip a beat.

“Ya see, there’s no one in this whole fuckin’ world I want more than ya, sweetheart,” he whispered into your temple before placed a quick kiss. “And I am always willin’ to show ya that you are the only girl for me.”

[luveline]

hi my lovely!! maybe bombshell!reader and spencer struggling to adjust to daily life after his prison stint? maybe he feels suffocated and an argument ensues?? i feel like it would be difficult to just get back to normal after everything that happened !! love you <33

love you!!! fem!reader

“You’ve always had terrible posture.” 

“What?” Spencer asks. 

You wrap your arms around him from behind. You’re more gentle than anyone he’s ever met, though you're teasing, whispering in his ear, “You sit forward so far you must get knots.” 

He’s immediately tense. You take little notice, your nose in his hair, your hand riding up toward his neck, which you spoil with soft touching. He tries to relax. It's all he wanted only a week ago, to have you holding him, to smell your perfume, the stick of your hand lotion or the traces of mint in your lip oil as you kiss the skin just behind his ear. But now it feels like too much. You’re never too much, not for him, and yet. 

“Ready?” you ask, bracing your hands against his chest. 

You pull him back until he hears a solid click emanating from the mid of his spine, and you laugh quite nicely in his ear. You’re his showful girl, but you’ve taken care since he came back to be careful. This is the cheekiest you’ve acted. His ears are ringing as your fingertips draw a path down his chest. This is a proper hug. His chest compresses tightly, he can’t draw breath. 

“Love you,” you say, kissing his cheek. You show no signs of detaching. “You smell really good. Maybe we can get some Indian takeout tonight and just stay all comfy and stuff…” 

He can’t answer. He wishes you’d stop touching him. It’s an unfair wish. 

“Does that sound okay?” you ask. 

He nods, hoping you’ll get off of him once you know the answer. When you stay, he shifts his shoulder and forces out a tight, “Yeah, that’s good.” 

“I love you.” 

He loves you so much it hurts to say. “I love you too.” 

“You’re not feeling okay?” you ask quietly. 

“I’m fine.” 

You climb off of him quickly. He knows he’s been too mean, worse when you say, “Okay,” in a tone like you’ve choked on something. “Uh, well, I’ll go find a menu.” 

You’re not one for filler words —it’s how he knows he’s thrown you for a loop. 

Spencer isn’t trying to be spiteful. He’s constantly overstimulated, he has been for three or months now, weeks and weeks of being in fight mode and now he’s home he doesn’t feel home, you’re here but he’s struggling to just accept that things are fine again. They don’t feel fine. 

He knows he’s lucky. He feels sick, is all. 

After a phone call he hears from the couch where you place an order for all his favourite mains and sides, you return to the living room of his apartment (of which you practically live in) and sit on the far side of the couch. Not too far to miss, but enough to betray how he’s made you feel. 

“Don’t sit so far away,” he says. 

“You’re being snippy, Spencer. Which is fine. But I don’t want to fight.” 

He holds out his hand. “Don’t sit so far away,” he repeats, preface to an apology. 

You shuffle across the couch on your knees. Spencer doesn’t want a hug, but he takes your hand and holds it to his chest where his heartbeat goes a tick too fast. Your frown softens as the bump of his pulse registers. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“That’s okay.” You’re lying at first, then not, “It’s okay, honey. I know you’re– I know this is still bad. I know I’m not being the most help I could be for you right now.” 

“It’s not like that,” he insists. 

“Well. Don’t be sorry. But please don’t say you love me if you don’t want to say it, Spence.” 

He could bite off his own tongue. “I feel like I can’t speak. I think I need to talk to Dr. Kelly tomorrow. I’m so anxious I feel like I can’t breathe.” 

He figures he owes you some honesty, but he’s wishing he kept it to himself when he sees the stricken look that lights your eyes. Your mouth turns to a line. 

Spencer grabs for your other hand. “I’m fine,” he says again. 

“Oh, sure.” You massage his fingers with your thumb on automatic. “You seem totally fine.” You lean in. “I don’t expect you to be fine, you know that? If you’re moody, that’s okay. You can be mad at me if you want, I think you deserve it. But I’m serious, don’t say you love me if you don’t mean it.” 

“I always mean it,” he says honestly. 

For a moment, you bite your lip, your eyes on his, and he worries he’s not as forgiven as he wants to be. 

“I’ll call Dr. Kelly,” you say finally, pulling your joined hands into your lap. “I want you to feel better, babe. That’s all I want.” 

He nods, lifting his chin for a kiss you give immediately. The suffocating feeling abates.

[goldenhypen]

. ⊹ just like this ˚ ͎ ｡

syn. taking care of jake when he gets sick, all because you refused to bring a jacket.

pair. jake x reader · wc. 1k · contains. fluff, catching a cold, mentions of food/drink

a/n. ^^ jake has the prettiest smile- nearly forgot this was just sitting in my drafts waiting to see the light of day- so now hopefully at least someone can enjoy it :’>

“damn, as much as i love to kiss you, your lips are freezing,” jake explained after he pulled away with hints of worry in his voice. “oh my, your hands are cold too. i told you you should’ve brought a jacket. you’re freezing.”

it had only been a few seconds but somehow, your lips were already missing the warmth of his own on yours.

“n-no”—stupid stutter—you denied through chattering teeth as the rest of your body began to shiver.

“really,” he said in more of a challenging tone through a chuckle, rather than a question, as he perked up a brow.

he already shrugged off most of his own jacket before you could even think of protesting, and within approximately three seconds, his coat was already hung over your shoulders, sheltering you from the chilling breeze, immediately feeling warmth shoot throughout your body.

“better?” he smirked.

“yes,” you half-guiltily admitted. “you’re going to get sick though.”

the frown on your face didn’t leave even as his next words left his throat, “well, better me than you.”

“no, jake,” you said as your pout grew longer.

“you know why?”

“hm?”

he paused as a smirk travelled to his lips before answering, “because then i’ll get to have you as my caretaker.”

“pfft—please. no, you're not. i’m telling you to take your jacket back, but you’re not letting me give it back to you. so that would be your fault.”

“ouch, someone is really eager to not take care of their boyfriend. okay, i see how it is,” he said with a dramatic frown.

you looked at him as you shook your head and rolled your eyes, “jake, no, i—”

“it’s fine! still better me than you though,” he said —if it was even possible—with more drama in his tone than before as he began to walk away.

you ran to catch up with him and took his still warm hand in both of yours as you looked into his eyes, but being the petty boy he was, who liked playing these silly games, he only continued walking, gaze straight ahead, refusing to look in your direction.

the rest of your date went on, with him eventually forgetting how he had planned on staying dramatic for as long as he could, and he made sure his jacket wasn’t let off your shoulders until you both got home, an immediate rush of warm air filling your bodies. momentarily, you took in the relaxing sensation, closing your eyes.

“want some hot cocoa?” jake asked, whipping you back to reality.

you gave him a small smile, followed by a satisfied nod at the idea. you could already feel the hot beverage flowing down your throat, warming up your insides.

you followed jake to the kitchen. and that was when you heard a sneeze just a few feet ahead.

“jake…”

he cleared his throat. “what? it was just a sneeze.”

“if you’re sick—”

“i’m alright. don’t worry.”

sceptical, you nodded.

later as you two cuddled up on the couch under a fluffy blanket, hands wrapped around a nice cup of hot cocoa, jake furrowed his brows. “why is it so cold in here?”

you turned your head to face him with a questioning look. “i’m not cold.”

“it’s so cold.”

“jake, love, i think it’s just you.”

he shivered, putting his mug down before drowning himself under the covers. “cold.”

you hugged him under the ocean of blanket before he said, “i think i’ve got chills.”

you sighed sadly, “and who said they weren’t sick, hm?”

he huffed out a long puff of air from his cheeks. “i don’t feel good, y/n.”

you sighed again softly, feeling bad for the boy. “okay, stay here and rest. i’ll go make you some soup.”

you let go of his already weak and exhausted form before standing up, beginning to make your way toward the kitchen as you heard a “thanks, i love you!”

⎯ ❤︎ ⎯

“okay, i’m back with soup.” you placed it on the table in front of him. “it’s hot, be careful.”

“thanks, love.”

you watched as he took his first few spoonfuls, your hand reached behind his head as you ran it up and down his back soothingly.

after a moment of silence as he drank his soup, a sudden eruption of giggles filled the room.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, subconsciously beginning to laugh with him.

“i love being sick,” he said, turning to you with a cheeky grin.

“i’m sorry, you what?” you laughed, imagining you must’ve heard it wrong.

“i like being sick.”

“what? why?” you asked at his ridiculous statement.

“because i always get to have you take care of me,” he smirked, not so cheeky this time but more happy than anything.

“i—” was all you managed to push out, speechless.

“told you you’d take care of me,” he then said proudly victorious, chin held high. “i know you well enough to know how down bad you are for me, y/n.”

you scoffed in disbelief, “oh, please. you are unbelievable.”

“i might be unbelievable, but i’m not wrong,” he continued playfully.

“okay, mr. smarty pants. you win. i do love you, and what about it?”

he giggled, coming closer and wrapping his arms around your waist, tucking his head into the crook of your neck.

no matter how long you two had been together, him doing this exact form of physical touch never failed to make everything in your body go weak, except your heart, its pace beating so fast, you were almost afraid it would leap out of your chest any minute.

“i love you more,” he breathed into your neck with a smile.

you wrapped your arms around him before starting, “okay, you big baby,” you tapped your hand in a repeating motion on his back, “i think you should get some sleep now. your body needs it.”

you felt as he nodded into your neck. “mhm. just like this.” he said, referring to the way you were tangled in each others arms, bodies sharing warmth, and breaths moving in sync. he closed his eyes. “this is exactly what i need to feel better.”

a/n. ahhh yall pls lmk if you liked this cuz idk if it’s me just second guessing myself but im feeling quite unsure about this one 🫠 and as always, thanks for reading <33

m.list · taglist

taglist 1. @raimbows4u @sultrybaby @kpop-nct @ajayke-reads @wccycc @enhacolor @enhasfever @nokacchan @yizhoutv @xiaoderrrr @soobin-chois @tyunni @shinsou-rii @vickytodoroki @softkpopplace @belle643 @nar-nia @rapmonie2047 @sunjakes @w3bqrl @ethereal-engene @exohclipse @yeosayang @4ri-ki @aeriil11 @jaeyunjakesim @whoschr @enaus @hoes4hoseok @palajae @annoyingbitch83 @kpoprhia @rcrystallocks @stepout-09-15 @zeraaax @enhasengene @atrirose @pistachiophobia @svnoofy @sweetjaemss @vatterie @majesticallymark @mnsnts @en-chantedtomeetyou @yeseoist @milisabunny @wonniestars @kazmura @nicholasluvbot @haechansbbg

[verstappen-cult]

# THE BOYS MEETING YOUR PARENTS

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant.

Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬. you don’t know how much i missed doing these f1 grid headcanons! thanks to the anon who sent the request in the first place. i use a few different prompts for this, if you wanna check them out: one, two and three. <333

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

You’re waiting for your parents at the restaurant, Lando by your side looking like he’s about to meet his death. You notice that his leg is jumping anxiously beneath the table. In another situation you’d make fun of him but not this time, so you grab his hand and squeeze slightly, pulling him out of his head. You reassure him that everything will be okay, that “you’re going to be fine. They will love you just like I love you.” and Lando tries to smile, he really tries but he’s nervous. He’s meeting your parents, the most important people in your life, and he wants to make a good impression. You make small talk, trying to give him a few tips, what he can say to your father or how to compliment your mother’s dress. In the end, he didn’t have any reason to worry. Because after the initial greeting Lando is already in a deep conversation with your father about cars while your mother looks softly between you two. They leave with the promise of having dinner at their house next week. Lando can’t stop ranting about how interesting your father is and “do you think they would like to go to the next race? I can arrange that immediately. I’m sure your dad would love it.”

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

Charles is about to have a panic attack or at least that’s what you think as you watch him pace around the living room. “You don’t understand. Like I need them to love me because you love them, and if they don’t love me I’ll just, I don’t know, kill myself.” And you can’t help but laugh because you’ve never seen him that nervous, not even on your first date he acted like this. He is a complete gentleman when your parents arrive at your house. Your father hasn’t even parked yet but he’s already waiting at the door with the most bright smile you’ve ever seen. Your mother loves him immediately, but your dad makes things a little hard, teasing him and making him so flustered you think Charles will pass out from how embarrassed he is. However, your mother has your back because she teases him back, engaging in some playful banter. Your heart starts hammering in your chest when Charles leans in and whispers “that will be us one day.”

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

You were nervous when, in reality, you shouldn’t have been. Oscar was natural, he was the one reassuring you that everything was going to be fine while you tried very hard to make him turn around and go back home. He had to park somewhere halfway to your parent’s house to calm you. If his kisses had anything to do with you finally relaxing nobody doesn’t need to know that. But he was right, as always, because dinner went smoothly. You have finished eating, your parents are laughing at something Oscar has said and you feel like you couldn’t be more in love. You are wrong because when your mother stands up to clean the table, Oscar is up in a second telling her to “sit down, I’ll take care of that. Anyone want coffee?” and you fall a little more in love. Oscar disappears into the kitchen and you get up to help him when your mother grabs your hand and softly whispers “He’s a keeper.”

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

Max insisted on buying the most grand bouquet of flowers, the most expensive wine and taking the Ferrari once you revealed just how much your dad loves cars and, especially, Ferrari. You couldn’t laugh even though you found it funny and over the top, but no one has ever done something like that for you. It shows how important you are to him. Your parents love him immediately, your mother is more than happy when she sees her favorite flowers while your dad looks like a fish out of water, unable to close his mouth as he admires the Ferrari parked outside their house. Max makes the mistake of asking him if he would like to take a ride and they leave for thirty minutes. He makes conversation with your parents during dinner, they humiliate you a bit and bond over how spoiled you are. When it’s time to go, your mother hugs him so tightly and says “thank you for taking such good care of her.” 

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

You’re coming out of a store when you see your mother across the street and before you can turn around and pretend you didn’t see them, she’s calling your name. Alex is surprised and doesn’t know what to do, choosing to stay a few feet behind because “I’m not ready! I need to mentally prepare myself to meet her and I’m wearing fucking shorts and a shirt, I can’t meet her like this.” but your mother sees him and her face lights up. “Is this the young man you’ve been hiding from us?” and Alex can do nothing more than accept your mother’s hug and the kiss on the cheek. When you laugh he sends you a death glare and you know you’ll be hearing about it all the way home. She invites you to have dinner because “dad misses you and he will be so happy to meet Alex.” and you were gonna decline her offer, really. But Alex beats you and accepts instead, telling her that “we would love to! But come to our house, we will cook for you.” 

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

The first thing your mom says when she opens the door is “have you eaten? I made this delicious tiramisu, come on!” as she grabs Daniel’s arm and drags him to the kitchen, leaving you behind with your bags and the bottle of wine you insisted on buying. You don’t take too long closing the door and following them, but once you enter the kitchen Daniel is already sitting on a stool with a big plate of tiramisu in front of him. He sees you and smiles with his mouth full, and it would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so offended. Your mother washes the dishes and makes small talk with Daniel, asking him random things about himself to get to know him better and he’s more than happy to answer all of them. When ten minutes go by without your own mother acknowledging you, you decide to speak because “you’re not gonna ask if I want a plate too, mother? Your own daughter?” which she takes as a good opportunity to tell a story about your childhood and humiliate you in front of your boyfriend. 

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

You weren’t supposed to find them, that’s what Mick tells you when you ask him “baby, are these… flashcards?” surprised when you start reading them and is all the information you gave him about your family during the week. He is embarrassed and it takes a lot of convincing and kisses to make him look at you. “I want to be prepared, okay? I want to make a good impression and this is my way to achieve that.” And, well, he is right. Because when the day comes, Mick fits so well. He asks your little brother about university and gives him a few tips, he asks your mother about work and your dad about horses, he even sits down with your little sister to play with her dolls. Everyone loves him. If you have to listen to your family tell embarrassing stories about you, you will endure it if it means you’ll keep seeing Mick’s bright smile. 

★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)

Logan wants to run. Yes, it was his idea to invite your family to a baseball game but “I still can get out of here and you can tell them that I’m sick. Or you can tell them that you don’t want me to meet them and we can run away to the Maldives or som—” you cup his face and shut him up with a kiss before he can keep talking nonsense. “You need to breathe.” It takes a while but he regulates his breathing eventually and doesn’t feel like passing out anymore. Logan still thinks that is best if he doesn’t attend the game and is actually about to make his escape when your brother yells your name. Before you can join them at the entrance, you hold Logan’s hand and whisper how much you love him. Logan forgets all about his anxiety once you are inside the stadium and he has a beer on his hand. Your dad makes sure to make him feel welcomed, including him in his and your brother's conversation. When you are home that night, getting ready for bed, Logan tells you that “I’m going fishing with your dad tomorrow.” And honestly, what the hell?

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[0-n-1-x]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a Damian x reader? But u can totally ignore this if u want🧡

Damian and reader are best friends, they go to the same school, and she (or they) is very clingy. And one day she gets a really bad headache during school and sort of begins rubbing and resting her head against his shoulder for comfort. She sort of half expects him to push or ask her to get off but he surprisingly doesn't. He's like super worried for her bc she can hardly pay attention and is really sluggish idk

Have a nice day! 🧡

link to my masterlist <33

You and Damian had been best friends for as long as you could remember, ever since that fateful day he transferred into your school. Despite his rough edges and serious demeanor, you’d always found a way to break through his stoic exterior, much to the confusion of everyone around you. It wasn’t uncommon to see you clinging to Damian’s arm between classes, chatting away while he listened with a slight smile or an exasperated sigh.

Today, though, something felt off.

Your head had been pounding since the morning, and by the time lunch rolled around, it was almost unbearable. You barely managed to make it to the cafeteria, your usually energetic self reduced to sluggish movements and a throbbing headache that seemed to grow worse with every step.

“Are you okay?” Damian asked, his voice tinged with concern as he noticed your unusually slow pace.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, trying to wave off his worry. But even you could tell that your attempt at reassurance was half-hearted at best.

Damian’s eyes narrowed, clearly not convinced. He walked beside you, watching as you winced at the bright lights and the noise of the bustling cafeteria. When you finally sat down, you immediately rested your head against the cool surface of the table, hoping it would provide some relief.

“Y/N,” Damian’s voice was soft but insistent. “You don’t look fine.”

You lifted your head slightly to look at him, your vision blurring for a moment. “It’s just a headache. I’ll be okay.”

But as the lunch period went on, it became clear that you weren’t okay. The headache only worsened, and soon you found yourself leaning against Damian for support. You rested your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in an attempt to block out the overwhelming stimuli around you.

Damian stiffened at the sudden contact, his body going rigid as you pressed against him. You half expected him to gently push you away, maybe make a sarcastic comment about you being overly clingy as usual. But to your surprise, he didn’t.

Instead, Damian wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he turned his attention fully to you. “You should go to the nurse,” he whispered, his voice laced with worry.

You shook your head weakly, not wanting to move from your spot. “Just let me stay like this for a bit,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Damian’s expression softened, and he nodded, letting you rest against him without protest. His usual cool demeanor seemed to melt away as he watched you, his eyes filled with concern.

As the minutes passed, Damian gently rubbed your arm, a small, comforting gesture that helped ease some of the tension in your body. He kept a watchful eye on you, making sure you were as comfortable as possible despite the situation.

“Y/N,” he said quietly after a while, “If you’re not feeling better soon, I’m taking you to the nurse.”

You didn’t have the energy to argue, simply nodding in agreement. You were grateful for his presence, the steady warmth of his body against yours providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.

For the rest of the lunch period, Damian stayed by your side, his protective nature shining through as he made sure you had everything you needed. When the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, he helped you gather your things and walked with you to your next class.

“You should go home and rest,” Damian insisted as you reached the classroom. “I’ll tell the teacher you’re not feeling well.”

You looked up at him, touched by his concern. “Thank you, Damian,” you murmured, managing a small smile despite the pain.

He gave you a rare, genuine smile in return, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “You don’t need to thank me. I just want you to feel better.”

And with that, Damian led you to the nurse’s office, his hand never leaving yours as he made sure you were taken care of. Despite his usual aloofness, it was clear that when it came to you, Damian was willing to drop his guard and show just how much he cared.

[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (5) | Joe Burrow

Major Angst, Fluff

Summary: Joe’s words hang heavy over you. So much that you haven’t spoken to him in a week unless it was work related. Joe is on a mission to make it up to you.

You sat at your desk in your office typing away, answering email after email. The Bengals had their second pre season game yesterday against the Falcons, although Joe didn’t play yesterday, it was still a long day for you. Jake Browning’s assistant ended up getting covid, so you took on that role for the day. Mostly just to piss Joe off, which you succeeded in doing. Between that and losing the game, Joe was on a warpath.

He’d tried for several days to reach out to you, or corner you at work, or even show up to your house unannounced. But you always pretended you weren’t home. He feels terrible for what he said and he knows you’re hurting. But you’ve completely shut him out. He hadn’t heard anything about the baby, or if the baby was even okay. He deserved it, he knew that, but he thought the two of you would have talked it out by now.

Which is why he didn’t give you a choice when he burst into your office and slammed the door. You looked up instantly and let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and looking back down at your laptop. “What do you want Burrow?”

“Burrow? That’s where we are now?” It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he stands in front of your desk with his bulging arms crossed over his chest. “I’m busy” you say, not looking up. His large hand pushes the top of the laptop closed. “Not anymore.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You say. “Too bad. We’re having a baby together. You have to deal with me for 18 years” he retorts and you let out a dry laugh. “A baby that you don’t even want” you mumble. “I never said that I didn’t want the baby. I was just frustrated and you-“

“Are you really trying to justify how you treated me last week by saying that you were upset?!” You exclaim. “Joe, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be your emotional punching bag whenever you lose a game or when you’re mad at the world. We’ve been together exclusively for all of 2 weeks and I spent one of them questioning everything” you rant, tears filling your eyes. “If this is how it’s going to be now, what’s it going to be like when she gets here?”

“She?” Joe asks, confused.

“The ultrasound. The one that you were too mad at the world to go to. We’re having a girl. By the way, I’m due February 11th if you even care” you spit. His face softens and he takes a step toward you, and you take a step back. “Baby-“

“No. Immediately no. You don’t get to come in here and do that. You said some really hurtful shit to me and you don’t get to act like it didn’t happen just because you’re saying sorry,” you rant. He opens his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. “I can’t be you punching bag Joe. I get it, your pissed because the team isn’t off to great start. You’re mad at the world, and that’s fine. But you don’t get to treat me like shit because you feel like shit. We’re a team, Joe. Now more than ever” you continue, tears brimming your eyes.

“When you didn’t show up to the ultrasound, I was more hurt than angry. You promised me you’d be at every single appointment, and that I wouldn’t feel like I was doing this alone. This week showed me a different side of you and I’m not sure how I feel about it. You aren’t my boss anymore, Joe. You’re my boyfriend. The father of my child. So if that’s not what you want, you need to tell me now. I’m tired of the back and forth and feeling like I’m just wanted for sex-“

“Hold on. I’ve never just wanted you for sex. You know that” he says defensively. “Lately it feels like if we’re not fucking, we’re fighting” you respond, your voice cracking. “Joe, I love you with my whole heart. I want to be with you more than I want the air in my lungs, but I’m not going to tolerate you being an ass to me every time you lose a game” you tell him, not breaking eye contact. You notice his eyes are brimmed with tears too.

“So if you want out, please just say the word-“

“I don’t want out. I don’t want to go anywhere” Joe says, stepping toward you. This time you don’t move. You let him wrap you in his arms and you start to sob into his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Non now, not ever” Joe says, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I have a lot of things I need to work on. Treating you better is at the top of my list. I’ve started going to therapy-“

You pull your head back and look up at him. “What?”

“I’ve been trying to reach out to you all week to tell you. I know that there’s no amount of apologies that can make up for what I said to you. I made you feel like I didn’t want you or this baby and that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Y/N, you’re my best friend. You’ve stuck by me at my worst. I’ve lost my mind. But all I’m asking is that you try to forgive me. I’m not asking for right away. I just want you by my side without hating me-“

“I don’t hate you Joe. I’m still very hurt, though. It’s going to take some time” you tell him. “In the mean time, I have sonogram pictures. Do you want to see our little girl?” You ask him, a smile forming on your face. “Uh, yeah. Is that even a question?”

•••

Joe headed back out to practice after looking at the sonogram pictures. You were still really hurt, but seeing his smile while looking at the small pictures made you happy. Before he left he gave you a kiss, and after a week of not speaking to him, it had your hormones soaring. You lean back in your desk chair and place a hand on your growing bump.

It’s only a matter of time before people start to figure it out. Wearing hoodies and baggy clothes is only going to work for so long. It was a relief that Gabby knows though, you didn’t have to wear a hoodie in your office and your desk hid your bump if anyone besides Joe or Ja’Marr came in. Speaking of Gabby.

“Hey, girlie. Brought you lunch. You and baby need to eat” Gabby says, placing a bag in front of you. You groaned at the smell of the food. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until now. “Subway? How did you know I’ve been craving a chicken bacon ranch”

Gabby laughs. “You’ve only been talking about it for 3 days”

“I saw Joe coming out of here a few minutes ago. How did that go?” She asks while taking a seat at her desk. “It was okay. He apologized profusely and we looked at sonogram pictures” you tell her as you start to literally devour your sandwich. “He understands that I’m still hurt and it’s going to take a little while before we’re back to normal” you add. “Good. He can’t treat you that way just because we lost a stupid game” Gabby says.

“And speaking of sonogram pics, did you find out what your having yet?” Gabby asks excitedly. You look up at her with a smirk on your face and she jumps to her feet. “Y/N! Oh my god!” She squeals. “We’re having a girl” you tell her, and she squeals even louder. You suddenly stand to your feet with urgency.

“Sorry to cut this short but this baby is sitting right on my bladder and I have to pee”

•••

You find yourself walking up the driveway of Joe’s house after work. After not being here for a week, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss sleeping in his bed. Since the beginning of your pregnancy, you’ve slept better if he was there. So when he called and asked you to come over after work, you agreed.

You open the door using you key that he gave you and walk in to a delicious smell of food cooking. You walk toward the kitchen where Joe stands in front of the stove stirring some kind of sauce. “Hey,” you say, and he turns around with a soft smile. “Hey gorgeous”

“What are you making?” You ask as you wrap your arms around him from behind. “Cajun shrimp Alfredo. Your fav” he says, and you smile. “You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?” You tease and he lets out a laugh. “I think I’ve buttered you up enough, hence the baby bump pressing into my back” he jokes, and you both laugh. “You filled me up, not buttered”

“Y/N!” Joe calls out surprised while you let out a loud laugh. “My god, what am I gonna do with you” he jokes, turning around in your arms. “Um…” you tap your chin pretending to think. “You can start by bending me over this counter,” you tell him, giving him what he calls the bedroom eyes. He smirks. “Oh yeah? Then what?” He asks, walking you back until your back is pressed against the counters edge. “Then you can fuck me until I see stars” you whisper, before he smashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss is filled with passion, and pent up sexual frustration. Joe’s hands land on your ass, giving both cheeks a firm squeeze, while your hands move along his biceps. His kisses start to move down your neck and you crane your head to the side to give him better access. The growling of your stomach causes him to laugh against your neck before pulling away. “As much as I want to do this, let’s get some food in you and then we can talk about sex” he says. As he’s playing the food, he looks deep in thought.

“You okay? You look a little lost” you say with a slight laugh. “Yeah, I’m good. There’s just something I want to talk to you about,” he turns toward you and he sets the glass plate in front of you on the kitchen island, and stands across from you. “You can totally say no. But I was wondering if you wanted to move in here? With me” he says, his voice quaking from nervousness. “I just figured it might be easier once the baby comes, and you’re here all the time anyway-“

“Joey, I would love to move in with you” you say, reaching over to place your hand on top of his with a soft smile on your face. “There’s also something I’ve been meaning to bring up to you” you start, and let out a sigh. “I think you should stop paying me” you say, looking up to meet his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I pay you? You work hard, and on top of everything else you’re still my assistant” he says, confused. “We’re dating now, Joe. I’m sleeping with you. I’m not a prostitute” you say with a laugh. “But I’m not paying you for that. I’m paying you for all the shit you have to put up with because of me” he argues.

“Joe-“

“Not to mention game days. I put you through hell on game days” he rambles, before taking a deep breath. “You done?” You ask him. “I don’t want you to pay me anymore, baby. If I’m going to be living here I’ll be fine. I only had you pay me before because I needed to make rent money. Now, I’m not saying you’ll be responsible for everything financially. I’ve found a remote job that all I have to do is log onto a computer. I’m going to do that, while still being your assistant because whether you want to admit it or not, you need the help” you joke, and he scoffs.

“You’re not wrong.” He says and you laugh.

After that, the two of you eat in silence. But not an uncomfortable silence, just enjoying each other company. Once finished you walk your and Joe’s plates over to the sink, as he leans against the island watching you. When you turn toward him he smiles and opens his arms for a hug, but you have other ideas.

“Now I wanna do something that I’ve been thinking about all week,” you say, as you drop to your knees in front of him. He has a smirk on his face as he looks down at you. “Go to town, baby”

[bahablastplz]

Best friend's brother: Chan x reader

Thinking about best friend's brother Chan that has always been secretly obsessed with you Content: extremely fluffy, slight hurt/comfort, smut, really vanilla smut but super sweet Warnings: Oral sex (f! receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex WC: 2000

Obviously, you and your best friend were inseparable. You grew up right next door, and her parents considered you to be another one of their children. You and Hannah were, for lack of a better word, siblings. Her older brother, however… that was a situation that you weren’t sure how to explain. 

You had always harbored feelings for the older man, despite the guilt that ate away at you. You could never tell Hannah that, however. Nor would you ever tell Chan or let your desires come to fruition. 

Which is why, once you came home for summer break you had no problem getting ready for your date at Hannah’s house. Though the thought of her brother being there made you gulp, you would just have to hope you wouldn’t run into him and everything would be fine–

“What’s got you dressed all up?” Of course, Chan appears from behind and makes eye contact with your reflection in the mirror. Hannah is sprawled across her bed and scrolling through her phone. 

“She’s got a hot date,” Hannah replies, snarkily. 

“Hot date?” Chan inquires while crossing his arms. He holds a slightly disapproving glare. 

“Yeah, with some guy she met online. He’s a real smokeshow–” 

“Hannah!” You say sharply, willing your best friend to somehow spare you the humility. 

“Where is he taking you, hm?” Chan says with a small, teasing lilt to his voice. 

“We’re going to a club…,” you whisper. 

“On the first date? No no no, that’s just a recipe for disaster, Y/N.” 

“It’ll be fine, Chan!” Hannah says. She doesn’t even bother to look him in the eye, so he bores holes into your own instead. He mutters out something about how he doesn’t like this and that you should really be careful before returning to his room.

As you finish getting ready, you admire yourself in the mirror. Your black dress hugs your body just right, and your makeup brings out just the right contrast to your face. Hannah says out loud exactly what you were thinking: 

“You look hot.” 

As you share your location with her and get ready to leave the house, it is almost 9 p.m. and your uber has arrived. Though you know the night will most likely not end up with you falling head over heels in love, you’re still hoping to have a good time and maybe get to know the guy more. However, before you step out the door you feel a hand grab your wrist. 

Chan is looking at you with a look you don’t recognize in his eye and you pause, waiting for him to speak. 

“Please, be careful. If anything happens, you have my number. I don’t care what time it is, you can reach out. It doesn’t matter if he’s being a creep or if you just don’t want to be there anymore, I will come and get you,” he says. He looks at you softly before adding, “And even if you don’t need me to get you, please text me when you’re home safe.” You could tell he was genuinely worried and this made your heart pang slightly, making it harder to will away the crush you have on the man. 

Your date shows up late, for starters. After twenty minutes you take your first shot, and your second drink arrives when your date does. He is unapologetic and starts touching you the second he sees you–that’s when you realize he is already wasted. Letting out a groan, you humor him with one dance, but when he immediately starts grinding on you you decide you have had enough. 

“I’m not really feeling it,” you say. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.” 

The man scoffs and immediately becomes defensive. “C’mon darling, you’re not going to show up looking like that and then act like a prude, are you?” He spits out some more mean insults that you don’t hear, because you’re already out the door and dialing Chan’s number. 

He picks up on the first ring. 

“Are you okay–” 

“I’m fine, can you please come and get me?” 

“I walked out the door the second I saw your name flash on my screen,” he says. You hear his engine start and know he is telling the truth. 

It’s cold outside, but Chan has the heat pumping in his car when he pulls up. You curl into yourself, feeling embarrassed at the situation you’ve found yourself in. The ride is silent, though it doesn’t go unnoticed that he’s playing your favorite music. 

When he pulls up to your driveway, he puts his car into park. 

You start talking before he says anything, even though you know he wasn’t going to force you. 

“He showed up completely trashed and started touching me before I even really talked to him,” you said. Tears start streaming down your face and you hope that Chan won’t notice, but of course he does. He always does. He leans over the center console to wipe a tear away. 

“He showed up drunk? Oh, I’m so sorry… you don’t deserve that,” he says. “I knew it was a bad idea.” 

You know he’s trying to console you but you feel so defeated. “Why is it such a bad idea for me to want to go out and have fun?” You practically cry out. “Why does everybody else get to have a normal dating life and get to hook up with people and enjoy college, but when I try to do it it never works out?” Chan just nods along to your words. 

“You just haven’t tried with the right person yet, Y/N…” 

“There will never be a right person, because the one I want is you and that’s never going to happen!” You slap a hand over your mouth and stiffen when you realize what you had said, and when you meet Chan’s gaze you see that he’s staring at you with wide eyes. You’re completely sober now. 

You are out of the car lightning fast, slamming the door behind you and racing to your house. You’re fully sobbing now as you unlock your door, but when you go to slam it behind you Chan sticks his foot in, holding it open. He uses the opportunity to invite himself in and immediately you’re in his arms, in a warm embrace. 

“I’m sorry,” you say against his shoulder. “I didn’t mean it, I–” 

“Don’t say that,” he warns. “Don’t you dare take it back.” 

“Chan, I–” He pulls you away to meet your gaze, placing his hands around your face and using both his thumbs to wipe your tears away. 

“Y/N, I have known you for as long as I’ve remembered and I’ve never seen a part of you that I hate,” he says. “I have fallen deeper and deeper in love with you every day, so to hear you say that… Please don’t take it back. Please don’t tell me that you don’t want this,” he trails off, his eyes darting to your lips. 

You crash your lips into his at full force and breathe against him, completely enamored. He picks you up so that your legs are wrapped around his waist and carries you to your room, the one he had been in more times than you could count, all while keeping his lips locked against yours. He drops you onto your bed with a flop and you bounce, observing his admiring gaze. His lips are on you again, then they trail to your neck, leaving long burning kisses behind as he trails lower. His thumbs press into your waist. 

“It made me sick,” he confesses. “The thought of you going to the club with some guy that was just going to use you. Some guy you had never met, someone who would never in a million years make you feel the way that I could.” 

He drops to his knees at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to his face by your hips. He pulls your legs apart, slotting his body in between them, and starts pressing soft kisses to your thighs. You watch his every move, your body relying on your elbows to keep you upright so you don’t miss a second of this. 

“Say it again,” he pleads. “Tell me you want me, that you need me as bad as I need you.” 

“Chan please,” you breathe out. “Wanted you for so long… Thought you’d never like me like that.” 

“Are you kidding?” He chuckles. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you.” And with that, he lifts your dress up. It bunches against your waist messily and his nose presses into your clothed core. You groan out at the contact and he does as well, placing agonizingly slow kisses and licks against you. He grabs at your waistband and you lift your hips, allowing him to slide them off of your body. He wastes no time before diving back in and your head lolls back at the feeling. 

“Look at me, please,” he begs. “Let me watch you fall apart.” Your eyes snap back to meet his gaze and you immediately feel so comforted and seen from his expression. It allows you to let yourself relax as he flicks and swirls his tongue around your clit. 

He watches your every expression, every hitch of your breath and every buck of your hips, expertly making you fall apart on his tongue. One finger slides inside of your pussy, pumping in and out experimentally, and you feel yourself coming to your peak. 

“God, Chan, please–” 

“I gotcha, baby,” he says. “Come for me.” You fall apart for him completely knowing that he will be right there to put you back together, and he helps you ride out your high, observing the fucked-out look on your face as if it would be the only time he would ever see it. 

You pant and reach for him and he interlocks his hand in yours, coming up to kiss you even more passionately than before. He presses his clothed bulge into your center and you hiss at the contact, still sensitive. 

“Can I?” He asks. 

“Please,” you respond. His pants are slid down and he pushes himself into you in a moment. You feel emotionally overwhelmed, looking down to see where you are completely and utterly connected. The way his breathing becomes shallow, you know he’s thinking the same thing. 

He picks up one of your legs, wrapping around your shoulder and starts pistoning into you, and the change of angle makes you go utterly weak. Your back arches and his lips are against your skin, anywhere they get a chance to meet. 

“All mine,” he grunts. His hips start slamming into yours faster, and one hand reaches up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises that might be starting to slip. “Say it… say you’re all mine and only I get to… fuck, see you like this.” 

You can tell he’s close, and the hand that reaches down to start rubbing against your clit confirms your suspicions. 

“Chan… so close… I’m all yours, Chan, please, please…” His name releases from your lips like a mantra, and as you feel yourself come to your high once again and clench around his length, he pulls you even closer, releasing himself into you. 

Your arms wrap around him and your fingers run through his hair comfortingly as he collapses on top of you. 

You and Chan have always been relatively close by association, particularly given the situation, but at the moment you and him are so intertwined you aren’t sure you can ever let go. 

He holds you as you fall asleep that night. 

“Do you think Hannah will be mad?” you ask. 

“No way,” he mumbles against you. “She’s been trying to get us together for years.” 

You laugh incredulously against the man. Though you weren’t expecting to find your true love that night, you guess life had other plans.

*** First real ff post on tumblr yay!! Welcome to my skz blog, I wanted to start off with something tame lol...I have a lot of really exciting things planned to post so stay tuned <3 Masterlist Recs

[hotchner-edu]

As We Fall | Aaron Hotchner

Synopsis: After you accidentally go on a blind date with Aaron, Jack must bear witness to the fruits of his error. — part 2 of this

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Younger (Of Age) F!Reader

Warnings: Age gap (r is over 22, Aaron is in his late 40s), fluff, Jack

Accidentally being set up with Aaron had to be one of the best things to ever happen to you. Unfortunately, being together with Aaron also meant having to face Jack (who was literally responsible for the entire ordeal).

“I have three rules.” Jack says with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. You and Aaron were sat on the couch together, having just come back from your third official date.

“Jack, you already gave us this talk after the blind date.” You deadpan, raising an eyebrow when Aaron huffs softly under his breath in amusement.

After you and Aaron finished making out in his car the night of your blind date, you both agreed it would be good for you to come over so that you could both speak with Jack. Your best friend had only been playfully upset, but he did bring up some genuine boundaries he wanted to set and you both respected them.

Now, it seems he's adding on to those boundaries, but you could tell he was only being half-serious.

Jack’s hands fly up, waving in exaggerated motions as he gives you the infamous Hotchner stare. “Three new rules.”

“Let’s hear them.” Aaron speaks up, smiling at his son in fondness.

Jack immediately springs into his antics, clearly having thoroughly thought about these new expectations. “First rule is no sex—and I mean at all! Second, dad you don’t get to hang out with her more than me, I was here first. Third—and I really mean this, absolutely under no circumstances will I call Y/N mom.”

You snort at the catalogue of rules he’s laying out, seeing the smile that he’s unsuccessfully trying to suppress from his face. Aaron chuckles loudly and shakes his head, “Jack, the last two we can both agree on. The first one though…”

“Yeah, I mean have some humanity.” You add, the grin on your face growing even wider when you see Jack’s immediate nauseated frown.

“Okay, gross. And fine… I guess… ugh, okay, actually I don’t want to imagine that so just do whatever you both want. But only when I’m not home, thank you and please.” He rubs his temples and grimaces a bit in playful exasperation.

You gaze at your best friend with a much gentler expression and nod. “Of course, Jack. You don’t have to worry about any of that.”

Aaron gives your shoulder a squeeze just as his phone rings, the three of you falling silent as you all know that it means. His arm remains wrapped around you as he picks up the call. "Hotchner... Alright, I'll be there in twenty."

Sighing, you loll your head to the side and smile knowingly. "Duty calls."

"I'm sorry, honey." He mumbles and gives you a kiss and one last squeeze before he's clambering up from the couch and hurrying up the stairs to change and grab his go-bag.

"How long do you think he'll be gone this time?" Jack muses curiously.

You shrug and look after Aaron's fleeing figure. "I'd reckon four or five days."

"Four days of having my best friend to myself or four days of listening to you whine about missing him... I have a feeling it'll be the latter." Jack says jokingly, head falling back to lay on the couch cushion.

"I'll be sure to keep it to a minimum." You shake your head and stand up, stretching your arms above your head a bit before looking back down at him. "You're sure you're completely okay with me dating Aaron?"

"You've asked me that like thirty times in the past two weeks." He snorts, eyeing you with a teasingly drained expression. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine with it. If I had an issue, I would have ghosted you the first time you told me you had a crush on him."

"Yeah, there's no way that was going to happen. Who else is going to pick you up from parties and nurse you through your heartbreaks?" You were quick to retort, a chuckle racking through your chest when he launches one of the decorative throw pillows at you.

Hurrying away, you head up the stairs and pad towards Aaron's bedroom. He's rushing around his room, tie undone around his neck as he shoves something into his go-bag.

"Need a hand?" Your voice breaks through his trance, his head snapping in your direction.

Approaching him, you deftly tie and adjust his tie, your hands smoothing down his shirt and resting against his chest.

"Very handsy." He utters gently, a tender look painting his stare.

You pull his tie to bring his face closer to yours. "Gonna miss you." You whisper and kiss him softly.

"I'll miss you too, honey. I'll get back to you as quick as possible." He mumbles reassuringly, hands moving to squeeze your hips. "Want a souvenir?" He asks kindly, lips twitching with a teasing smile.

"Just bring yourself back in one piece." You answer, hugging him tightly.

His strong arms wrap around you, one his hands cupping the back of your head lightly to keep you against him as he drinks in the comfort of your hold.

After a few moments, he pulls away and kisses you firmly, conveying the words and concerns he has no time to voice. Silently, you both pull apart and you move to help him double check his go-bag, seeing that he's slipped a small photo of you inside one of the pockets.

The photo is from your second date together at the aquarium. Aaron had snapped the shot of you while you were both in the shark tunnel, your face illuminated in blues and whites from the water.

You don't mention it, zipping up the bag and carrying it for him as he slips on his suit jacket. He takes the bag from your hold as soon as his hands are free, lacing his fingers through yours with his other hand.

"We're going to Atlanta. It'll be too late for me to call at night, so I'll try to call during my lunch breaks." He says, squeezing your hand as he leads you down the hallway.

"Don't worry about it. Besides, I can stay up late. I'm not quite as old as you yet." You teasingly remark, swinging your joined hands a bit.

He exhales through his nose in a mixture of fondness and resignation. "Still, I don't want you staying up too late just to wait for my phone calls."

"And I don't want you to worry yourself about making phone calls while you're working on the case." You immediately counter, not wanting him to wear himself down for your sake.

Aaron shakes his head and leads you down the stairs. "I'm not just going to go radio silent on you, honey. And..." he stops in his tracks to look back at you, a coy smirk on his face. "I'll have Jack leave us alone when I come back so we can make up for lost time."

You blush brightly at the insinuation, huffing and shaking your head. "Horny old man." You mumble, kissing his cheek before continuing down the stairs.

"I really hate you both."

Jack's voice cuts through the dulcet atmosphere surrounding the two of you as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, nose scrunched.

"This time it's his fault, not mine." You giggle, immediately throwing Aaron under the bus.

"Thanks, honey." Aaron drawls out with a lighthearted eye roll.

"Dad, I love you and stay safe, but please leave right now before my eyeballs melt out of my eye sockets." Jack says, opening the front door and gesturing for him to quickly leave.

Aaron chuckles and sighs. "Now we can't have that, now can we." He turns to you and gives you another kiss. "I'll be back before you know it, baby." He says softly and moves his hand to squeeze your waist.

"I'll be waiting." You whisper back with a small smile. You can hear Jack tapping away on his phone by the door, chiming in again after a few more seconds pass.

"It's a good thing you're not a first responder, dad."

part 3 here

[youunravelme]

reunited

author's note: just a little drabble to make up for my absence. this takes place in the nothing happened in the way i wanted verse about six months after reader and matt get back together (aka stanley cup finals).

summary: you told matt you couldn't make it to the stanley cup finals...and yet here you are

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: cursing? pda?

you heard the disappointment in matt’s voice when you told him you couldn't make it to his playoff games. you'd managed to come to a game vs. the rangers, but when the panthers made it to the finals, it was clear that your schedule might not even allow you a week off. but when you looked at the calendar and saw you had an opening before you summer internship, you immediately booked a flight to miami.

everything was set.

until two days before game seven, the flight was canceled.

“matt, i’m so sorry—”

“baby, it’s fine. you can’t control it.”

“i’m trying to look for flights but they're all full.” you could hear the way he tried to stifle his sigh. but you knew him like the back of your hand, you knew how much this meant to him, how close he came last year. and you wanted to be there. you knew he wanted you to be there.

which is why you took your airplane refund (and a little out of savings) and starting looking at rental cars.

in hindsight, making an eighteen hour trip alone was not the smartest decision you ever made, and it surely wasn't a choice matt would approve of if he knew about it. but maybe he'd be so caught up in the post game that he wouldn't ask how you got there.

when you got into the city, taryn was the one who met you at their hotel. she smiled and gave you a tight hug.

“how was the drive? not too bad i hope?”

you gave her a sheepish smile. “i might need another five hour energy.”

she bumped her shoulder with yours. “i’m sure the game will be hyped enough to wake you up.”

“thank you for waiting for me.”

taryn’s laugh was immediately swallowed up by the sounds of traffic, but you felt it just the same. “matt would kill us if we left you to walk to the arena alone.”

“he doesn't know i’m here, does he?”

she shook her head. “we haven’t said a word. but please believe he's done nothing but mope about it.”

you rolled your eyes. “he doesn’t have time to mope, not when winning the cup is so close.”

and it was.

you couldn't remember a time where you'd screamed as loud as you had. your blood was pumping, heart pounding, you were torn between squeezing your eyes shut from anxiety and keeping them focused on the game. maybe after the game, you'd apologize to taryn for holding her arm so tightly, but she was squeezing yours back just as hard.

you watched as they kept the puck in the corner as the clock ran down. the nail polish you'd painted on your fingernails were in fragmented chips on the floor. your eyes kept darting from the jumbotron to the ice, back and forth back and forth.

but the buzzer went off and your boyfriend hopped onto the ice with his teammates. taryn was pulling you into a threeway hug with brady. before you knew it, you were being shuffled out of your seats, down the stairs, and onto the ice.

you were operating on autopilot, sticking close to taryn and brady. you were in the back, behind his parents and siblings, not really focusing on where you were going, only knowing that taryn’s grip was on your wrist.

people bumped into you, cameras were everywhere, yet your gaze was solely on taryn’s red leather jacket. maybe you should've dressed differently, worn something fancier instead of a jersey and jeans. it was game 7 and your boyfriend just won the stanley cup and you probably looked exhausted and there were going to be pictures that would probably live on the wall of matt’s childhood home for the rest of time.

taryn and brady stopped walking which could only mean that they'd found matt. if you could see over brady´s broad shoulders, you might have been able to see the embrace matt gave his mom, then the massive hug he gave his father. you couldn't hear what was being said, but you a glimpse of a red sleeve hug taryn before brady was next.

matt’s arms went around brady’s shoulders, his head peeking over, when the two of you made eye contact for the first time in weeks. his blue eyes widened in shock before he physically shoved brady off of him and out of the way.

“no way!” matt said over the noise before you were being yanked into his arms, lips pressed against his. it was clumsy and mostly teeth, but who could blame either of you? he’d just won the stanley cup.

you pulled away first with matt still chasing your lips until you placed a hand on his chest. “congrats, baby.”

“what're you doing here? i thought you said you couldn't make it! how’d you even get here?”

you smiled sheepishly. “i drove.”

matt’s smile dropped for a moment as he rolled his eyes. he placed a kiss on your forehead and brought you into your chest. “you're an idiot, but i love you.”

“i love you, stanley cup champion.”

he preened for a moment until he realized you'd successfully navigated the conversation back from yourself. “don’t think we won't talk about that later, baby.”

as the celebrations continued, regardless of who came up to him, matt’s hands never left your body. maybe it was the high of winning or maybe it was because you hadn't seen him since game five against the rangers but he wouldn't let you out of his sight. you tried to sneak away to stand with his family while he was being interviewed, but he never let you get far enough. at one point, you were standing just far enough to be out of shot of the camera, but close enough to where he was somewhat paying attention to the reporter interviewing him. 

“you sure you don't wanna come with me?” he asked after the last interview.

“matt, i promise she does not wanna go into a locker room with you and your sweaty teammates,” taryn chirped. “i’m sure you can survive without seeing her for a little bit.”

he didn’t look convinced.

“whenever you're finished, i’ll be ready to do whatever you want. i’m here for a week.”

his eyes lit up right before he kissed you again. “fuck yes.”

you laughed and pushed him away. “go celebrate with your teammates, we’ll be ready when you are.”

he glanced over his shoulder at his teammates and then back at you. “i love you.” he started moving backwards but kept his eyes trained solely on you, not a care in the world as to who he was bumping into. “and don't think i’m not gonna say something about you driving eighteen and a half hours.”

he knew the time it took?

“how’d you know how long i drove?”

a familiar smirk graced his lips. “baby, i always know how far you are from me.”

“you’re both sickening,” taryn joked as matt disappeared down the tunnel.

“maybe, but i love him.”

[buckets-and-trees]

What You Want

Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 2.7k Summary: Your boss, powerful lawyer Bucky Barnes, insisted he needed his indispensable assistant to accompany him on his trip to Norway. He also promised he would have you home in time for Christmas, but the weather decided to strike its wrath and decimate international travel, leaving you stranded for a few more days.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, periphery/secular reference to the Christmas holiday, vaginal fingering, use of "plum" as a term of endearment

Logistical Notes: Written for @sstan-hoe Vee's Holly Jolly Challenge - I was given a selection of prompts including "That noise...keep making it," reindeer, and lawyer/assistant power dynamics. Also my December entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the FLASHBACKS prompt. Divider by @saradika.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You heard the door open and close behind you and then familiar footsteps approaching, but you didn’t turn to look, instead keeping your eyes on the beauty of the frozen wilderness on display before you.

“Peace offering?” Bucky spoke as he stepped up beside you at the rail of the balcony, holding one of two steaming mugs in his hands toward you.

You sighed but gave him a small smile and took the mug. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re a very powerful man, Bucky, but I’m relatively sure you don’t control the weather.”

“Not yet, but I’m trying to pull some strings,” he said with a smirk, and you smiled.

“It’s not your fault we can’t get a flight back to the States when a blizzard has taken out half the Eastern Seaboard.”

It was unlikely that even with all of James Buchanan Barnes’ considerable lawyering power and money that he would be able to get you back home before Christmas. The main international airports in New England would have to live through the record raging blizzard, dig out, and then there would be hundreds of thousands of passengers to accommodate in and out of the country. Reasonably your guess was that you wouldn’t be returning until as early as the day after Christmas at the earliest.

“I should still apologize though. I said I would have you home for Christmas.”

You took a sip of the hot coffee. “You should apologize, but you’re not.”

He smiled. “No, I’m not.”

He turned and looked out over the forest and frozen tundra with you, the snow sparkling by the moonlight. This side of the resort hotel Bucky had booked the two of you into looked out over the wilderness.

“How long are you going to stay out here?”

“Until I see a reindeer. You brought me to Norway in December. I want to see a wild reindeer.”

“Fair enough.”

After a few more minutes, Bucky spoke again. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? They said our accommodations should be ready after dinner.”

It had been a bit of a feat to find any place this close to Christmas that wasn’t closed or completely booked, but Bucky had managed to find this place that although they said they didn’t have a place immediately available, they had late check outs that just needed to be cleaned and refreshed for new guests.

“It’s a very fine restaurant.”

“Alright, let’s go eat.”

“If that will be all for the evening, I’ll be happy to escort you to your suite, Mr. Barnes,” the maître d’ said. He had been attentive all evening, but being with Bucky on this business trip you had quickly learned only the most excellent service was a common thing for him.

“Yes, thank you, I think we’re finished,” Bucky replied, looking to you, and you nodded. You both scooted your chairs back from the table and then followed the man out of the restaurant, through the hotel lobby, past the bar, past the observatory lounge and balcony you’d visited earlier, and to a pair of elevators.

Dinner had been quiet, but not an uneasy quiet by any means for the two of you. Bucky was an intimidating man, power emanating from him very naturally, but after the first few weeks as his assistant, you had gotten over your nerves. After sitting with him through many lunches, plenty of meetings, taking notes from him on cases and projects, and a fair few late nights, you had grown comfortable around him, learned that he could be easy to talk to, but didn’t strive to fill a silence for conversation’s sake, something you appreciated.

The hotel Bucky had found was an upscale, moderately sized wilderness and ski lodge. When you arrived on the fifth and top floor, there was a cozy hallway that only boasted three doors, and you were led to the one at the very end, where the man unlocked the door, stepped in to hold it open, and then handed the key to Bucky.

“If you should need anything at all, simply pick up the phone and our staff will assist you,” he said. “Have a good evening, and we hope you enjoy your stay, even though we know it was unexpected for the holiday.”

“Thank you, dinner was fantastic, and the place looks wonderful, you’ve been great, Lucas. Have a good night,” Bucky said, and pressed what you were sure was a generous tip into the man’s hand.

All your and Bucky’s things had been left neatly to one side of the entry of the suite. A quick look around revealed that there were two rooms off either side of the spacious sitting area as well as a small kitchen and bar, and on the far side full floor to ceiling windows and a balcony. You had hoped for two rooms like you’d had at the previous hotel, but two rooms in a suite would be perfectly fine, especially since the stunning view out of the sitting room’s windows wasn’t the only beauty in the place. There was a fireplace with a gorgeous mantle with a roaring fire already ablaze and a stunning Christmas tree with gorgeous trimmings in the Scandinavian style.

“It’ll do, yes?” Bucky asked, watching you take in the beauty of the tree.

You smiled warmly at him, then looked back at the tree. “Yes, it’ll do just fine.” The sitting room was spacious and rivaled your cozy studio apartment back home for size. You stepped further into the suite. “Do you want to take a look at the rooms and pick which one you want?” you asked. All the trip was on the company’s expense account, and as his assistant, although you suspected he might be a gentleman and offer you the better room, you would defer to Bucky to actually pick.

“We’ll share whichever one is better,” he said with a shrug.

You scoffed. “No, there are two rooms in this gorgeous suite, I’m sure they’re both fantastic, I don’t mind taking the one you don’t want. Might even sleep on the couch so I can stay by the tree and look out those windows all night.”

He chuckled, low, and suddenly at your back. “You misunderstand me, plum,” he said, placing his hands on the curve of your hips and pressing his chest up against your back. He leaned in to speak the next words directly in your ear. “I’m having you in my bed tonight.”

Your breath caught.

You couldn’t move, and a soft, “Mr. Barnes,” was all you could say.

“Aw, none of that, plum, you haven’t called me Mr. Barnes for months, and I won’t it happening again now.”

“We shouldn’t,” you tried to protest, but even as you said the words, a traitorous part of you didn’t put much feeling behind them.

“Shouldn’t we? You’re smart enough to know I didn’t really need to bring you on this trip with me, but I wanted to. Didn’t want to go that long without seeing you, wanted you by my side in a charming Nordic country during the height of its festive season, and you said yes, like the perfect assistant that you are. I told myself that was enough, didn’t go knocking on your door any of the nights we were at our first hotel, kept it professional despite wanting more and more of you every day we spent together away from the office.”

His hand moved from your hips to circle around your front, his left moving over your soft stomach over to the other side to rest over the front of your right hip, and his right further up your torso, his hand brushing the underside of your breast and resting firmly just below it, bringing you flush against him.

“Fate won’t let me get you home for Christmas, so why deny what it’s dangling right in front of me now?”

He pressed his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, and a small whimper escaped your throat.

“Let me have what I want,” he murmured, leaving a slow trail of more kisses down your neck. “I know you want it, too.”

“I – no, I don’t – I”

It was impossible to put up the words of protest when he licked the shell of your ear. You shivered in his arms instead.

“Let me ruin my perfect girl,” he pressed, slipping the hand that was at your hip into the waistband of your trousers. His hand stopped when his fingers met the lace edge of your panties. He turned you around abruptly and kissed you full on the mouth, cupping your face with both hands so you had no choice but to take the heat of his kiss, and the flame he’d been sparking started to catch more dangerously in your core.

He had somehow maneuvered you further into the sitting room so that when he suddenly broke off the kiss, you were in the middle of the space, the warm glow of the fire and the tree lights casting over you both.

Bucky stepped back, and you frowned in confusion, still breathless. He trailed a finger up the column of your throat to the tip of your chin, his blue eyes dark and hungry. “Undress,” he said.

He moved to the couch and sat, his eyes returning to you as he settled in.

“Undress,” he repeated.

That commanding tone struck another spark right to your cunt. You knew you were already growing wet for him.

You toed off your shoes one at a time, then took off your socks – those requiring you to move a little less elegantly than you wanted with his searing gaze on you. Standing aright again, your hands moved to the button of your trousers, fingers trembling since you had never stripped in front of anyone before. You weren’t a virgin, but although the partners you had been with before had been eager to have you naked, none had ever asked you to undress for them like this, like they wanted to see your full figure, not just fuck it.

Bucky spoke your name in a way that had you pause and look up at him again.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You know I pride myself on my instincts. I think we both want this, but there are two rooms here.”

You bit your lip.

He was offering the veiled choice if you wanted it.

Your mind raced with flashbacks of conversations and thoughts you’d had over the past few weeks clear back to the first few meetings with your boss.

Insisting to your mother that your boss did absolutely need you to fly with him to Norway to assist him with meetings with an international client the week before Christmas.

Your best friend insisting on a shopping trip for your fancy work trip to a foreign country “because if your hot boss isn’t going to seduce you, have a foreign fling!”

Your heart stuttering the first time your eyes met your boss’s deep blues the day you interviewed with him.

The same eyes that were riveted on you now.

On you.

You unbuttoned your trousers and lowered the zipper. You glanced down as the fell to the floor, then stepped carefully out of them. When you looked back up, you saw even more hunger in Bucky’s eyes, and it warmed your blood. Looking right into those eyes, you reached for the hem of your sweater and lifted it up and over your head, letting it drop to the floor as well.

“Mmm,” he hummed in approval. “C’m’ere,” he beckoned, sitting back on the couch again, but beckoning you into his lap as he watched your every move.

You concentrated on his eyes and on keeping your breathing steady. When you were close enough for him to reach for you, he held out his hand. You took it and let him pull you gently down to straddle your legs on either side of his.

“My perfect plum,” he murmured. His hands moved up your thighs, over your hips, up your waist, and back down.

“Your plum?” you asked, watching his face as his eyes roved over you up close.

“My perfect plum - I want to savor every delicious curve of your body,” he said before dropping a kiss to the top of your breast. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself. “When I felt that lace of your underwear, I thought maybe you did want this, too.” His lips moved to the other breast where he kissed the exposed skin, then traced his tongue along the edge of the lacy cup, causing you to shiver. “There isn’t any other reason you would be wearing such pretty lingerie, is there?”

“No,” you admitted immediately.

“Just for me,” he said as he moved his hand to your mound and immediately slipped a finger beneath the fabric to stroke along your folds, making you gasp. “Good girl, already wet for me.”

You keened as his finger traced your warm hole but didn’t go in, instead taking the slick there and pressing it up over your folds. He continued tracing them up and down before moving up to find your clit, knowing he found it the second your head dropped back, and you let a, “Yes,” tumble from your lips. “More.”

His other hand skimmed up from your hip, up your side, to your neck, and then angled your head back down for another kiss. Your lips met his eagerly, mouths parting, you licked into his mouth, and he growled his approval. He moved his finger from your clit, but your whine was brief as he slipped that finger along with a second straight into your cunt, stroking in and out, over and over again. You canted your hips into his hand, and you felt the rumble of a chuckle in his chest, but he didn’t stop kissing you. Instead, he curled his fingers forward with each stroke, quickly finding the spongy spot that made you tremble and moan.

Breathless, it was you who had to break off the kiss first, but you pressed your forehead to his. “Feel good, plum?” he asked, and you registered that he sounded as earnest as you felt, his voice deep and a little breathless, too.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped.

“Mmm, sir? I like that,” he said, and rewarded you by moving his thumb to start circling your clit.

You moaned openly.

“That noise…keep making it.”

He sped up his motions just slightly, seeming to feel how your body was tensing up, building toward a powerful release.

“Ready to cum for me like a good girl?”

“Yes, sir!” your answer was more like a plea. “So close.”

Keeping up the rhythm on your clit, he applied more pressure with each thrust of his fingers up inside of you, hitting that sensitive spot on the front of your walls, and with just a few more strokes, the wave crested and rolled over you.

“That’s it, plum,” he cooed as you trembled above him, his other hand coming to smooth unhurriedly up and down your back as his fingers continued to stroke your channel, slowly extending your orgasm. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

He removed his fingers and brought them up to your mouth. You sucked them in, laving your tongue over them. “Can’t wait to see you come for me again,” he said. And too impatient for you to lick his fingers clean, he withdrew them and crashed his lips back into yours.

“Earlier tonight when I said I should apologize, and you called me right out for not doing any such thing?”

“Yes?”

“This is why I didn’t apologize. I was in no way sorry that I had more time with you, and I’m going to use it to take you apart and put you back together all night.”

You would think about all of this later. But he emptied your head of anything but him and the pleasure between you, making more than good on his promise to take you apart until you were completely spent and ruined in his bed.

READ THE SEQUEL: NOW THAT I SAW YOU

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[harunayuuka2060]

Kalim: Headmage, aside from Malleus and Leona, is there any other royalty studying at Night Raven College?

Crowley: ...Why do you ask, Mr. Al Asim?

Kalim: My dad asked me to give a gift to a royal, but I’m unsure who he’s talking about. He mentioned it’s not Malleus or Leona.

Crowley: *clears throat* I should check...

Kalim: 'Check'? You mean there is?

Crowley: I’ll update you later, Mr. Al Asim. For now, please return to your classroom.

Kalim: Okay!

MC: *chuckles* Ah, yes. The House of Al Asim.

MC: I thought they would never get in touch with me.

Crowley: I see. Should I inform Kalim that you are the royal he’s looking for?

MC: No, I have no dealings with him.

MC: However, do inform him that I would like to receive a response from the Viper Family.

Crowley: Viper...? Your Maj- Sorry. If you don’t mind me asking, what is your connection to the Viper family?

MC: *smiles* I am considering their daughter, Najma Viper, as a suitable match for the prince.

Crowley: ...

Crowley: Pardon?

MC: Hmm? Is something amiss? You appear rather pale.

Crowley: N-No, Your Majesty! *immediately smiles* I happened to remember that there's something I need to do.

MC: Oh, really? I thought you were trying to flee after potentially offending me.

Crowley: No, Your Majesty! I've been quite busy lately!

MC: *chuckles* I’m merely jesting. You may take your leave now.

Crowley: Th-Thank you, Your Majesty.

Jamil: *received a phone call from home; it was Najma to be exact*

Jamil: What is it? Tell me quick. I still have a basketball practice to attend to.

Najma: I think... I think I'm getting married!

Jamil: What are you talking about?

Najma: Father and Mother are panicking right now!

Jamil: Najma, calm down. You're not getting married.

Jamil: You don't even have suitors.

Najma: Hey!

Jamil: I'm guessing it's a prank. Don't think about it too much.

Najma: Hmph! *hangs up*

Jamil: *frowns* What's wrong with her?

*In the Kingdom of Arendelle*

Evan: *MC's 15-year-old brother; prince regent of the Kingdom of Arendelle*

Evan: *blushing after he found out that MC sent a marriage request to Najma on his behalf*

Lucas: ...

Lucas: Not to make the situation worse, but Their Majesty also sent your photo.

Evan: !!!

Evan: MC would not do that!

Lucas: Nah. I know your older sibling more than you.

Lucas: So, are you going to officially court Lady Viper?

Evan: ...

Evan: I'm not sure... I'm a stranger to her.

Lucas: Well, you can be friends first.

Evan: A marriage request was sent.

Lucas: So? You should be fine.

Evan: ...

Evan: You're so indifferent to me, Sir Lucas.

Lucas: No. I'm just stressed and worried for Their Majesty.

Lucas: And pissed off, but I would probably get punished for saying that.

Evan: ...

Evan: You are aware that the rules in the kingdom doesn't state as such.

Lucas: Yeah, I know.

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist