#i have a bit of a cold again. wanted to clean my room.
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normalcy part 2 :]
you got hurt and you tried hiding it from arlecchino. of course it was in vain, since arlecchino will always have ears and eyes hidden in ever corner. she was pissed at how incomptenet her subordinates were in protecting you and disappointed in you for trying to hide it from her.
lyney and the other children were quiet while they watched the nurses tend to your wounds. you were nagged to death on your carelessness on leaving the house without informing anyone. you found it a bit hilarious to be the one nagged and not the one doing the nagging for the first time. you tried offering a gentle smile to the kids who remained by your side to ease their worries.
"kids, it's a small wound. it will heal in a day."
lyney was about to speak up on how you are being too casual about this before the sound of sharp hells walking across tiles sliced through the air. you let out a sigh, preparing yourself to face the wrath of your partner. arlecchino walked in the room and her mood worsened at seeing you bandaged up. the children didn't wait a second longer and left the room as they already interperrted their father's silent order. the nurse still stood by you, a bit shaken up by seeing the knave so up close.
without a word shared, arlecchino sat by a chair next to your bed. she barely glances at the nurse before saying;
"leave, i'll tend to her."
the nurse within a heartbeat hurried away. you gulped under the tension and weight of her stare on you.
"did you really think i wouldn't know?"
you winced at her question, you tried getting up from the bed to face her more directly but arlecchino stopped you, not wanting to reopen any wounds.
"i just didn't want to worry you, dear." you meant it, it's just a small wound. the children and your husband were worrying over a small matter. it will heal within two weeks and would probably leave a bare visible scar.
"you did a great job then."
her harsh words hurt you but you know she means only well. she always frets over your health, her harsh words might seem cold to others but you know her enough to know they come from geninue worry and love.
she let out a sigh as she saw you sulk. she stood up from the chair and sat on the bed, placing her warm hands on your face, she draws imaginary shapes with her thumb on your cheek. you smile at her warm gesture.
she wants to protect that smile from the harsh world. a world that is so vile and disgusting. being able to withness your smile itself proves how unworthy she is of you. so she shall make up for it by being by your side and protecting you from the vile beings.
after all, you are her god. and she is your servant, that will use her tainted hands to protect your clean ones. till the day she departs, she will make sure that your smile, your love, you genyle nature is protected. she swears that unspoken oath to you a million times as she kisses your hands, your lips, your forehead.
you are her salvation and in return, she will sin for you and only you.
"arle, lost in thoughts again?"
"don't change the subject, you will be punished for your idiocy."
"how mean."
Part one here
UHSKSBENWNNRNWNEN YES YES YES YES!!!!
DEVOTED ARLECCHINO. PROTECTIVE ARLECCHINO. HAVE. MY. BABIES. This amazing sob I loved every single word of this ANON PLEASE START PUBLISHING THIS GOOD FUCKING STUFF I AM BEGGING YOU also I’m sorry for late reply I somehow forgot I had requests to answer😞
#albareposts#sobbing over this#SO GOOD#YES I NEED DOMESIC AND PROTECTIVE ARLECCINO#genshin impact#arlechinno x reader#arlecchino#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#x reader#GIMME THAT WOMAN NOW ANON YOU COOKED
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trenzalore!verse open starter!
Wide-eyed, the Doctor took in their surroundings. Sunlight beamed down from a vast, blue sky, dotted here and there with clouds, and a warm breeze passed by, tossing their greying hair over their forehead.
They took a hesitant step, then another, leaning heavily on their right leg--they had, in their haste to leave the TARDIS, forgotten their cane on its hook next to the door.
"Excuse me," the Doctor said, leaning in to someone near by. "Two questions: where and when am I?"
#open;;#v;; lil' ol' timelord with a wooden leg#ch. smith!doctor#i have a bit of a cold again. wanted to clean my room.#but can't stand for that long
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It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."
You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...
"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"
"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?
"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"
Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.
"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."
As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.
We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.
"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.
I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.
"Very good, one more time for me."
You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.
"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."
The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?
While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.
"I'm - I'm sorry?"
"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."
You stare at me. "Remove my - "
"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.
I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.
I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.
Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."
I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."
Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.
"And spread for us, please."
Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.
"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "
You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...
My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".
The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.
The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.
"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."
The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.
You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"
"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"
You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.
One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.
It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.
The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."
Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."
"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.
You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...
The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.
You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.
"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."
Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.
"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."
#size difference#size k!nk#fr33use#mine#cnc k!nk#free use kink#free use slvt#medical play#cnc free use#rough cnc#rapedoll#rapekink#rapetoy#rough kink#r4pepl4y#r4p3 fantasy#r4ape kink#r4p3 kink#bimboification#dumb slvt#dumbification#needy wh0re#dumb wh0re#good slvt#fr33use slvt#size matters
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❝ 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈'𝐌 𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌) ❞
❝ WHAT HAPPENS YOU TAKE CARE OF NANAMI ALL YOUR LIFE -- AND HE DOES THE SAME FOR YOU ? ❞
✧ pairing: nanami kento x sorcerer!reader
✧ summary: throughout your years of jujutsu tech, you take care of kento, whether its a wound from a curse or a simple cut his finger -- and when he returns he finds you still ready to take care of him -- even after shibuya.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, hurt / comfort w/ a happy ending, domesticity, jjk canon compliant au (because nanami is alive) reader is the same age as nanami, set during through the events of star plasma vessel to end of jjk, nanami getting hurt and reader taking care of him, reader gets a cold and nanami takes care of her, jealous! nanami, kitchen counter sex, soft dom! nanami, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing
✧ wc: 7,657
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 3 has been sold to two anons!
“Show me,” Nanami furrows his brow in reply, jaw set as he glares, but he knew no amount of staring would get you to let this go. You stood in the doorway of his dorm room — your room was clear across on the other side where the girls resided, so he wondered for a split second how you knew he returned when it had barely been an hour, but answered his own question without having to utter a word (Haibara).
“It’s not bad. It’ll heal by itself—“ and you’re shaking your head, and his lips purse, “it really isn’t worth speaking to Ieiri about — it’s not a wound, just a bruise—“
But still you stood, as immovable as ever — and he finally relented, unbuttoning his jacket, as he shrugged it off, unable to hide his wince as he revealed the large bruise that colored his skin in red, his skin peeling and angry, and surely would turn into a lovely mish-mash of purple and blue.
You brush past him into the dorm room, as you brought a first aid kit in, setting it on the bed, turning your head before tilting it as if to say, “well?”
He repents, as he always did with you — he knew a battle of wills with you was as unwinnable as a battle of jujutsu with Gojo — not to mention needlessly frustrating. He sat at the edge of his bed, eyes fixed to the floor, as you grabbed a washcloth from the kit, heading for his bathroom. He hears the sounds of water running, and the squeak of the faucet closing.
You return as you lift his arm slightly, rolling up the sleeve of his t-shirt to his shoulder.
Your touch is gentle — Nanami was always surprised at how gentle you always were. With the line of work you all did, it was easy to be rough, to find smooth edges corroded and jagged, but no, you remained as smooth and soft as you always were.
He flinches when you bring the wet washcloth to raw skin, and you’re careful even as you seemingly pick out pieces of gravel and dirt stuck in his flesh. And you frown at the sight of it, doing your best to clean every bit.
“So what happened?” you ask, and he gives a terse chuckle.
“Didn’t Haibara tell you?” And you shrug, “I know he told you we’re back,” and your lips curl ever so slightly as your eyes meet him, a small amount of mirth returning.
“Maybe I’m just a stalker,” and he can’t bite back the small smile on his lips, “Haibara told me you didn’t go to Ieiri, and that you got hurt protecting him on your mission,”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his head, “Ieiri was busy dealing with Haibara, he got it worse than I did—“
“Even if your injury is less serious, it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t look after yourself,” and he sighs, as his eyes slide to you, “you need to learn to care about yourself, Nanami,”
And he knew you were right on some level — he didn’t have a delusion of invincibility and he also didn’t have a strong enough desire to strive to be stronger, but — his fingers grasp at his sheets —that didn’t mean he wanted to see his friends die. “You don’t have to do this,” he says again, and you don’t meet his gaze when he looks over at you, your brow set in concentration, “it’s not important—“
“Nanami, you don’t ever seem to value yourself properly,” you finish cleaning his arm, before grabbing bandages and tape from the kit, “you are important — even if you don’t think you are,”
And he opens and shuts his mouth — before a smile pulls at his lips — you were far too kind, especially for a jujutsu sorcerer.
And then you add, “and if you don’t get your wounds tended to, I’m going to tell Gojo you want to take a sweets tour of Tokyo,”
…maybe he spoke too soon.
~~~~
“How did you manage to hurt yourself so badly during training?” You offer Nanami a makeshift ice pack, a small cloth wrapped up with ice from his freezer, and his lips pursed in disgust as his reply, “ah, Gojo,” the mattress shifted under his weight as he sat,
“That arrogant idiot,” Nanami grumbled, as he pressed the ice pack to the back of his head, “his excuse was that he didn’t know his own strength — he’s lucky that he had infinity or I would have—“
You chuckle, “You know he’s just messing with you, it’s just because you react,” and he scowls at his floor of his room, as if his carpet was the six eyes sorcerer itself, “he’s not so bad—“
He raises an eyebrow, his mouth parted in disbelief, “Are you defending him right now?” And you chuckle, as you lean back against the side of his bed, your head leaning back against the soft comforter that you had bought him and guaranteed would help him sleep better (it only guaranteed that you would be asleep underneath it half the time they spent in his dorm relaxing).
You wave him off, “Lower your blood pressure. I’m not defending him, I’m just saying, it can’t be easy being the strongest — all those eyes on you, the way people treat you, the—”
“The weight of your overinflated ego that you have to carry around—” and you roll your eyes, and the action bites at his last nerve, because he thought if anyone would have his back, it would be you — the next words spit like venom out of his mouth, “I thought you were better than those girls that moon over Gojo,”
And he regrets the words as they leave his lips, as you stare at him wordlessly — not with anger, but frustration — which hurts all the more, “If I was so in love with Gojo, then why am I with you instead of him?” He doesn’t have a reply as you rise to your feet and make your way out the door, the click of the door far too deafening, leaving him with a throbbing in his head — but not just from being hurt.
His fingers curled tighter around the ice pack. Because why—why did the thought of you liking Gojo make his chest ache—the idea of your care and time spent on someone else, not even Gojo, but anyone else, made his stomach churn at the idea.
He had told himself when he decided to become a sorcerer, he would do anything to avoid relationships — even friendships if he could do so. When you work a job like this, it can only end in disaster. but— his eyes slide to the closed door you had just left through.
Why did this feel so much worse?”
~~~
“You can’t stay here all night,” your voice cuts through the silence of the morgue — the only life left in the room. Because he too had died along with Haibara.
Or rather he should have.
He kept the towel over his eyes, unmoving from his chair, head resting back against the cold metal — as if it would protect him — from seeing Haibara sliced half over and over, last words dying on his lips said in pure chaos but somehow Nanami could still hear them ring in his ears— just as the sick crumple of his torso hitting the ground after being ripped from his body. The words leaving his lips as the last vestiges of life left his body, fingers twitching as his lips moved—
You got it from here.
The hopeful optimism from a person seconds before death did little to comfort him. Not when that person should have been the one who lived. He had the one thing that was so rare in his shit world of jujutsu — kindness—
The very thing that left half his body lying against a metal slab.
“I can’t leave until…” he trails off, he didn’t wish to leave until his body was inspected and then taken to be…disposed of. He knew it was for the best that his body is turned to ash, but it made it no easier to consider the person that he knew to be his best friend would be nothing but ash in a few hours time, “I won’t leave him alone,”
You nod, and the silence makes him wonder if you’re leaving, but instead he hears footsteps and the slight scraping of a metal chair against the floor. And he feels the slight brush of you beside him as you sit.
And you don’t say a thing. The only thing is that your fingers brush his tentatively and when he doesn’t pull away you intertwine them. And that’s enough—for now.
Until they take his body away.
A sorcerer glances at the two of you, “Do either of you have contact with next of kin? We need to notify—“
“I’ll handle it,” Nanami says, the towel pulled away from his gaze, hoping his dark bags and red tinged eyes aren’t noticeable to you, but he sees the purse of your lips and knows they are.
The sorcerer shifts, “Have you considered asking his family for—“
“That’s not an option,” Nanami cuts him off with a stare, and the sorcerer parts his mouth before shutting it again with a nod, “okay, please allow us to take his body,”
And they do, pulling the sheet down ever so slightly that Nanami sees a flash of his face — no hint of that smile he always unfailingly had on his lips — it too was gone, just like he was. And they carefully wheel his body away — assumedly to be burned. And the door swings shut behind them — leaving only him and you. Silence hangs over the room, the finality of the moment leaves nothing in its wake but regret.
And regret only felt hollow — just as his heart did.
You choose to break the silence, a shaky sigh leaving your throat, as you quickly scrub tears away from your face, clearing your throat, “Come on, let’s go—”
“You can go ahead, I’m going to stay here for a while,” and your eyes try to find his own, but he still stares at the spot where Haibara’s body had laid for hours. The essence of cursed energy was almost too easy to understand compared to the concept of death — a person can be living, breathing, and talking one day to be nothing but a husk the next. And now, he knew it would be a lifetime of feeling as if something is missing — as if something was wrong — and moments where it felt fine would be overcome by only guilt and anger.
What was the point of all of this? His fingers formed into fists, nails digging into his palms — were they nothing but pawns to be used in an unending game that forced sorcerers to not only to put their lives on the line, but their colleagues as well. A twisted game that only ended in a pile of corpses.
“Nanami, you can’t stay here all night—”
“I’m fine,” he rubs at his temples — and how long would it be until he’s staring at your body on that slab? Or maybe you’d be staring at his own—crying over his body just as he had done for Haibara, “you can go—”
“I’m not leaving you, and you shouldn’t stay here — you need sleep—”
“You don’t have to take care of me,” he snaps, his gaze meets yours, “I’m not injured, I didn’t even get hurt— ”
“Yes you did,” you say quietly, as you step closer to him, but his eyes refuse to meet your own.
“No—” and your hand finds his chest.
“This pain is worse than any physical pain you could put in — and I wouldn't leave you to deal with a bruise by yourself, so what makes you think I’d leave you now?” you say softly, and tears burn at his eyes, as your hands gently pull him into your arms, his head buried against your chest, “I’m not leaving you, Nanami,” you murmur quietly, as your fingers slowly run through his hair.
And you didn’t — he was the one who left you.
~~~~
You never get sick. That’s what you loved to brag about — especially yesterday when you got home from spending an entire two days in the rain soaking wet and ice cold without a hint of cold symptoms.
You supposed your bragging was a curse in and of itself because now you were buried under your comforter. You barely manage to text Shoko that you’re sick and you won’t be able to make it to class today. And now you had to wonder if it was worth the effort to get out of bed to take your medication or to simply sleep it off.
But your body made the choice for you as your eyes fluttered shut and you slipped into a fitful sleep, body burning from the inside out.
Consciousness faded in and out, as you felt something brush against your forehead, your eyes heavy as they open ever so slightly, a flash of blue and blond, before you fall back into sleep.
Your head aches, muscles heavy, and the smell of spices wafted through the apartment, “Are you finally awake?” a voice said, as your eyes flutter open, still burning at the corners as your head turns.
“Nanami?” You croak out, throat raw and dry, as if your flesh was raked across coals, “what are you—“
He turns his head from your kitchenette — a ladle in hand, before he sets it down, wiping his hand with a dishcloth. And he steps over to your bed, pulling the washcloth from your forehead, before placing a cold washcloth, “your fever went down a little,” he said, “but I brought cold medicine and I made some soup for you,”
“You didn’t—“
“Have to?” his lips quirked up, “I know I didn’t have to, I wanted to,”
“How did you know I was—“ and his eyes find yours, “Shoko,” and he nods, you relax back into your bed, “how long have you been here?”
He turns back around to finish cooking the soup for you, stirring, the metal of the ladle slightly clinking against the sides of the pot, his eyes flicker to your clock, “About an hour and half, hasn’t been too long,”
“Why are you taking care of me?” you mumble, glancing at his back, as he lifted the ladle to pour into a small bowl to taste the seasoning of the soup, “you don’t owe me anything—“
“I owe you a lot,” he cuts you off, the clatter of the bowl against the counter as he sets it down, the click of the stovetop as he shut it off, “but that’s not the reason I did it,” and your brow is furrowing under the washcloth, as he walks over to you, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Then why?”
And he raises an eyebrow, “Why do you think?” And his fingers brush your cheek, “you’re the only reason I’ve stayed here as long as I have, otherwise I would have left, a long time ago,” and you don’t know how it’s possible for your face to grow warmer but it does from his words and his touch that lingers against your cheek.
And he’s gone as quickly as he came, going over to the stove to take out a bowl of soup for you to drink, “can you stay after I finish eating? Until I fall asleep?” You ask, as he brings the bowl over, as you sit up slowly, head spinning as you do still.
“Of course,” and he does, staying by your side after you eat and take your medicine, hearing your quiet murmur, “thank you, Kento,”
And he realizes, as his lips curl into a smile, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, just how much he liked hearing his name on your lips.
~~~
“How did you manage to hurt yourself on our last mission together as students?” you sigh, the worry in your voice making his lips curl — as the two of you had just found yourselves in his dorm room, as you rifle through his bathroom to pull out the first aid kit you had given him (after you had learned he didn’t own one).
You return to him sitting on the edge of his bed, holding his hand up in such a way that he didn’t drip blood all over his sheets. Your fingers brush his own, and he’s still surprised at how soft your hands are. His hands had grown rough from the years of jujutsu, calloused from the grip of his fingers around his blade handle, but somehow, yours were always as soft as he remembered them.
Your fingers found his, warmth blooming as your brow wrinkled as you scruntized the cut on his hand, “Maybe we should ask Shoko to look at it—”
“There wasn’t any cursed energy that cut me — it was just—”
“Debris, I know,” and this seemingly did little to soothe your worries, had gotten when pushing you out of the way of the curse, “I had it handled — you shouldn’t have dove in—”
“It’s fine, it’s not that bad—” but your glare cuts off his sentence, as you begin to clean the wound.
You shake your head, “What am I going to do with you? Every time you go on a mission, I’m going to be worrying about what trouble you’re going to get yourself into,”
He’s silent, his eyes unable to meet yours — he can’t keep hiding this from you. He had made the decision months ago — and it was only a matter of time before someone else slipped up and told you (most likely Gojo).
“I’m leaving after graduation,” he says the words like ripping off the bandage, but it hurts him all the more when your fingers are still for a moment, your eyes finding his own, as you stare at him.
“You’re—” you cut off, and you don’t protest, you don’t argue — you only ask one question — “Why?”
And that one question was more difficult to answer than any other you could have asked, a sigh stuck in his throat, as he shook his head.
“I can’t do this anymore — I haven’t wanted to since—” he cuts off, mouth impossibly dry — it was easy to tell Yaga he wasn’t going to continue, even easier to take care of half a dozen grade 2 curses at once — but this was— “I can’t stand by and watch my colleagues die one by one beside me — I don’t want to live like this. I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Kento,” his heart squeezes at the sound of your voice wrapped around his name — what you had taken to calling him recently — “as long it’s what you want. I know it’s been difficult—I was surprised you hadn’t left when—” and your voice falters, neither of you could bear to bring up his name, refusing to even utter it around the other — as if it would summon every horrible memory from that time—and your voice is soft, “I just want you to be happy,”
And there’s nothing more than he wanted to be the one to make you happy — nothing more than he wanted to ask you to be by his side, let him be the one to take care of you, and nothing more he wanted than to ask you to leave with him—
But that was the one thing he could never ask you to do.
Just as you would never ask him to stay for you.
“I want you to be happy too,” he murmurs, as you continue to clean his cut, before your fingers are moving to grab the bandages, slowly beginning to wrap them around his palm, “more than even myself,”
“What’s new?” he wrinkled his brow, and you chuckle, “I mean, you never put yourself first, and I’m glad you are now. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not….here,” and you finish bandaging his hand, but his fingers curl around yours, “Ken—“
He squeezes your hand softly and his words are just as soft, “You would be the only one who could ever make me happy,” and he hears your breath catch, and it only makes him want to steal it from your lips with his own, “because I know that being by your side would be only thing that could satisfy me,”
Your fingers brush against his cheek, “Too bad I’m apparently in love with Gojo—“ you tease, all too pretty smile as you do, and his lips draw even closer, “Kento—“
“And if you’re so in love with Gojo, why are you here with me?” And he waits, waits for you to pull away, to stop him, to show any indication you didn’t want this—
But you close the gap instead, lips barely brushing his, so chaste, and yet it’s a spark to kindling — a fire neither of you should have lit. And yet, his lips find yours, insistent, his fingers cup your cheek, featherlight touch drawing a shiver down your body that he relishes in.
“Kento—“
“Why is it my name on your lips?” And he kisses you again and again, your noses brushing each other’s, he’s murmuring your name like a prayer, and if it was, he would worship at your altar each day, “Why it is that you’re kissing me?”
And your lips curl against his, as they find his again, “You kissed me first,” and he can taste the sweetness of the melon bread you had shared with him that morning, but something even sweeter that only be you, “so why did you do that?”
But you knew why — especially from the smile gracing your features, one that he wished he could have etched in the inside of his mind, “Isn’t it obvious?” and your lips part to answer, but he cuts you off with another brush of your lips, “I love you,”
And your eyes widen only slightly, but you’re kissing him again, arms curling around his neck, fingers sliding behind his neck — “Figured that out when you got jealous of Gojo, but I’m glad you admitted it,” and your forehead finds his, “and that I love you too,”
You loved him — you loved him — he had to tell himself again and again, but he still couldn’t fathom it. Was it a dream? You were always a dream to him — something he could nearly grasp with his fingers, but always remained just out of reach.
And now he held you in his hands and he never wanted to let go. But he had to — he knew he had to.
So he would — even if it would hurt — hurt that no bandage would fix.
He kissed you again, unless you were the one to place it.
~~
“Why is it that I always find you like this?” Nanami’s eyes slowly met yours — he sat in Ieiri’s office, waiting to be seen, only find you there in the doorway instead, “it’s as if you’re asking to be patched up by me, Kento,”
How long had it been? And somehow he knows the answer before even thinking about it — it had been nearly a decade. A decade since the two of you had graduated — you moving to Kyoto to help run the campus there, while he had moved onto a regular college and then a corporate job — one that had nearly sucked his soul dry of any life he had to begin with. And it was only when he had received gratitude for the first time in a long time — that he remembered the reason he had stayed a jujutsu sorcerer after Haibara…
And now, here was the other.
He murmurs your name, nearly sounding foreign on his lips, “How did you—”
“I ran into your student, Nanamin,” and he furrows his brow at the nickname — Itadori’s little name for him after he had refused to be his sensei. Because he wasn’t one — Gojo may have taken up the mantle of teacher for his own personal ego trip — but he wasn’t ready to form relationships like that. And yet…his lips curl, there you were, “didn’t think you wanted to be a teacher,”
“I don’t, but how can I refuse that white haired idiot?” he half grumbled with a sigh, eyes still slowly grazing over you, “but I don’t want to talk about him right now,”
You draw a step closer, shutting the door behind you, a lilt in your voice as lovely as your grin, “Then what do you want to talk about?” and you stop right in front of him, as your fingers reach out, and he’s nearly leaning into your touch, but he’s wincing, as your fingers press against his bruised body, “because I want to talk about how you ended up in such rough shape,”
A sigh stuck in his throat, his next words nearly along with it, “It could have been much, much worse,” he murmurs, “if Itadori wasn’t there, I—” he breaks off, “that special grade — he could touch my soul and it had caught me in its domain—”
And your arms are pulling you into a tight hug, your fingers running through his hair, “But you’re here, you’re okay,” you murmur softly, your palm pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pump under your fingers, “you made it,”
“But—”
“But nothing, Kento, you’ll make it back every time,” your fingers cup his cheek, pressing your forehead against his, “right?”
Your touch was the only thing that could truly make him feel whole again — as if every crack in his soul had been mended with gold, “how do you know?”
And your lips curl into a soft smile, your head tilting ever so slightly, “Because you love me, right?”
The chuckle on his lips is nearly enough to bite back his nerves as the words leave his lips, “I’ve loved you for years, sweetheart, that’s nothing new,”
You’re shaking your head, “And all these years, we always found our way back to the other, right?” your hand finds purchase on his shoulder now, the other against his cheek, “so we just have to keep doing that,”
“You make it sound so simple,” he murmurs, and your lips find his — and it makes him wonder how he had spent so much time without your touch, because right now it was the only thing keeping him whole — stealing the doubts from his head and the aches from his body — leaving only heat filling the empty gaps left behind.
“It is simple,” your hand interlaces with his, “if we let be.”
~~~
“I’m starting to think you hurt yourself on purpose around me more now that we’ve moved in together,” you examine the small cut on his finger, a nick from the knife that the ratio sorcerer had been using to slice his freshly baked loaf of bread. Scarlet slipped from the small cut, and his soft murmur of ‘ouch’ unfortunately had not gone unheard by you. He swore you must have selective hearing — you wouldn’t listen when he told you to go to bed, but you’d hear him hiss in pain under his breath even when half asleep on
“It’s not too deep, I think just a bandage should be fine,“ Your brow knit together as you purse your lips, and he bit back his smile, knowing it would only serve for him to get scolded for not being more careful.
“It’s nothing, love, I can take care of it—“ and his breath catches when your lips find their way around his finger, sucking slightly to ease the bleeding, your tongue flicking over the cut, “sweetheart—“ he swears under his breath, a distinct flush burning at the crown of his cheeks, “what—“
“They say saliva can help a cut heal faster,” you smile, before pulling a bandage out of the first aid kit you had pulled out, and your lips press a sweet kiss to his cut again, a smirk as you meet his gaze, “Ken—”
And he’s kissing you, your body tenses a moment only to melt into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck — he can taste his blood on your lips, raking your fingers through his hair. He can only think about getting closer, closer, closer — he needs you. His hands slide down your back, until they find your hips, squeezing, as he presses himself to you.
“Baby,” you murmur breathlessly, as your lips part his, a gasp that turns to a soft moan when his lips press heated kisses down your jaw. His nose brushes against the soft skin of your neck, as he presses you against the counter of his apartment, his hands slide down, large palms grasping your ass, “I need—”
“What do you need?” his fingers sneaking up and down the sides of your body. His teeth graze your pulse, your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, as his tongue soothes the mark he left behind, “because you know I’ll give you anything you ask for, sweetheart,”
And his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he lifts you onto the counter, calloused palms pressing your legs apart — but he barely has to, your thighs already spreading for him. And he finds your shorts nearly soaked through — your drenched cunt visible even through the two layers of fabric stuck together from your arousal.
But you don’t need to ask for him to know what you want — it’s second nature, it’s instinct for his fingers to dip inside the waistband of your shorts and underwear alike, tugging them both down, until you were kicking them off.
“Is all this for me?” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh, as two fingers graze down your slit, gathering your pre on his fingertips, before he meets your gaze only to lick his fingers clean, “I was never one for sweets — except when it came to you. Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,”
Your head lolls back, as his thick fingers circle your clit with practiced ease, pulling back only to drag his tongue up the length of your needy cunt. And your eyes find his again, heady gaze heavy with need and his pretty lips and chin already glossy with your juices.
“Kento—fuck,” your fingers thread through his blonde locks. First, one finger sinks in and then another —
his nose bumping against your clit as his tongue stretches your walls in tandem with your fingers, grinding against his face, “s’good, I can’t—“
But he’s relentless, the wet squelch of your messy walls and your choked out moans ring in his ears and are nearly enough to make him cum right in his pants — already far too tight, blood rushing downwards far too quick.
Another
“Such a good girl,” Kento murmurs, and you are, so perfect — “just let me take care of you,”
“Kento, please, more, need—“ and his lips find your clit, tongue flicking against the hardened bud, before sucking long and hard, while a third finger joins the other two. Your back arches, the coil in your stomach grows tighter and hotter — your slick dripping from your messy hole onto the counter.
His fingers squeeze at your flesh, and he could live between your legs forever — it could be his meal morning, noon, and night — he could spend hours lapping at you until you fell apart over and over. His fingers stretch you out far too deliciously, and your walls are giving that telltale flutter.
“Kento—g’nna cum—I—“ and his fingers are fucking you harder and his lips close around your clit, sucking hard, until you’re moaning his name, muscles growing tight as you fall apart. You’re a mess, your fingers trying to press his head impossibly closer as you grind against him, riding out your orgasm, as your juices gush over his face — and he’s lapping up every drop, as you fall limp against the counter, his arm slipping around your back to support you.
Your eyes flutter open to watch him pulling away with a pop, strings spit and cum connecting you to your cunt. His gaze drags over you, watching your juices drip against the counter, as he murmurs quiet praises, licking his lips clean of your release.
And your fingers find his cheeks, pulling him into a deep kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips, the filthiness of it all enough for his cock to grow even harder against your thigh. And it’s a matter of moments, before your fingers are tugging at his sweatpants and boxers, freeing his erection, his pretty cock all but ready for you — lovely ruddy head dripping with pearly white beads of precum.
“Look at what you do to me, love,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his, gaze blown out in lust.
“Kento, please,” and his lips curl, his fingers raking through your hair, as he pulls you even closer, his erection bumping against your sopping pussy, “I want—“
He drags his cock over your slit, watching his pre mix with your release, the two of you groaning when his tip catches on your clit, “what do you want sweetheart? Tell me, tell me what you need,” his arms are hooked around your knees, pressing them to your chest.
You keen when his tip teases your sopping hole, “I need you to fuck me—“ and you’re whining as his cock pressed into you, splitting you open on his length — and god you could never get used to how big he was — you could feel very pretty vein and delicious curve—
Fuck, he could bust just looking down at you, at the way your lips parted for him as he had sunk into you, the way he could see how your pussy stretched around his dick — like you were made for him. Pleasure ripped up his spine at the sight — his fingernails digging crescents into your hips.
And he knew that he was certainly made for you.
“S’good, s’full — please,” you’re nearly mewling, begging for him to move, “Kento—“ and he obliges, unable to hold back any longer, as he begins to slowly rock his hips against you, each stroke getting longer and deeper. His balls slap against your hips, as he picks up the pace — your walls squeezing around him.
“Fuck, sweetheart, didn’t think you could get any tighter,” he grunts, his cock stuffed inside your walls, and he’s gritting his teeth, your soft moans and the noises of your pretty pussy becoming too much for him. White ring of release formed around his base — his balls growing tight as he inches closer and closer to blow his load, “you always can f’me, can’t you?”
And he gives a particularly hard thrust, right as his lips find yours in a messy, sloppy kiss — all tongue and teeth, your head falls back when his tip finds your g-spot again and again. You squirt all over his length, soaking him and the counter with your release, as he fucks you through your orgasm, again and again. Your toes curl when he finally comes, his release painting your walls with his thick, hot release — fucking it deeper and deeper, and he’s notching himself inside.
You’re slumping against him, your eyes shut, as he pulls you closer into his arms, pressing sweet kisses all over your face until he finds your lips again.
“I love you,” you mumble, eyes fluttering open as he cups your chin, a soft smile on his lips.
“I love you more,” and he’s slowly lifting you, carrying you over to your shared bed, and you’re burying your face in the crook of his neck.
“But what about your cut?” You mumble, and a chuckle on his lips, as he presses a kiss to your forehead, as he sets you down on the bed, grabbing a damp washcloth to clean you up.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you’ve done plenty,” he murmurs, as he finishes cleaning you up, only to slip into bed beside you — “let me take care of you.”
~~~
It was over.
That’s what Nanami had thought when Mahito had stopped him in his tracks, his hand pressed against his chest, but more importantly, against his soul.
“I didn’t know you were here,” Nanami said, his eyes unable to tear away from the curse’s.
He could barely feel anything anymore — the stinging had dulled somewhere between his trek down the winding tunnels of Shibuya station. Instead, he could only hear the echo of his footsteps, as he had forced himself to take one step forward over and over and over — and that’s when he had seen them.
The congregation of curses or mutated humans — he didn’t know which they were, but did it really matter at this point? It didn’t. He dispatched them all the same — all while his thoughts were only filled of you — you, you, you and you.
And a beach in Malaysia.
“Yeah, Kuantan would have been nice,” and it would have been — it was only a few months away. The vacation the two of you had meticulously planned out. The days spent out walking the beach, lounging by the water with the books neither of you had never read, and nights falling asleep by each other’s side to the metronome of the waves crashing.
And now, he had found himself, staring death in the face — an echo of his near death from only a few months ago. How had it come to this already? He had always felt he was running out of time — constantly watching the clock, trying to run it out for his retirement, only for it to run out before he could make it to those sandy shores he had dreamed of.
“Yup. The whole time,” Mahito replies, lips in an easy smile, “Wanna chat? We go way back, after all,”
Nanami’s eyes fall to the floor, the dirtied and bloodied tiles underneath his feet — he didn’t feel like spilling his guts to a curse.
Haibara, what the hell was I trying to do? He asks in his mind, not even daring to say the words aloud, I ran. Even though I ran away, I came back with the vague reason of finding the work worthwhile.
And then he sees Haibara, appearing in front of him, patented smile on his lips, as he points south — points right at—
“Itadori,” Mahito says.
“Nanamin!” his eyes wide as he takes in his state — horror painted on his face, already so helpless — what else had he seen and now he had to see this too? He shouldn’t have had to see this. He should have been a normal kid — worrying about normal things — not fighting monsters in some damned subway tunnel.
But what could he do about what now? What could he do but stop?
Could he finally stop?
No, Haibara. That’s not right. I can’t say that to him. It’ll just end up becoming a curse for him.
But it’s a curse every jujutsu sorcerer had to bear — made to bear until there were either no curses or no sorcerers left.
But he couldn’t regret it now.
“Itadori,” his lips curl, smiling for the last time, “you’ve got it from—“
And then there’s a crash — screaming, the sound of blood splattering. It takes him a minute to realize it wasn’t him.
It was you.
You had crashed between the two of them, sending the curse flying with your cursed energy, the impact drawing blood from you and Mahito alike. Your arm was around his body — and Nanami is whispering your name.
“I told you, Kento, we’re always going to come home — even if I have to drag you there,” you say, your eyes still flickering between Itadori and Mahito, “Itadori, tske Nanami—“
“No, this is my fight,” he shakes his head, his fingers clenched into fists, “I almost let Nanamin die — I have to do this—“
“Yuji—“ you say, but he’s already barreling towards Mahito, and you’re whispering fuck, as you take Nanami in the opposite direction.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry,” and his eyes are barely able to stay open, as you help carry his weight alone the deserted subway, “I’m sorry—“
“Why are you sorry—“ but he’s barely awake along enough to hear your question, until it’s all black.
It takes him several months to recover. Cursed energy healing could only do so much, especially since Ieiri was spread thin enough with everything between Shibuya, the Culling Games, and everything else that came after.
Most of the brunt of his care had fallen on you — you changed his bandages, tended to his wounds, dealt with any signs of infection with help from Ieiri, and handled everything else around the house.
“Why do you do all of this for me?” He asks quietly, one day while he sits, your back turned while you washed the dishes from lunch — the clinking of plates and the sound of water running that squeaks shut when he asks.
You turn, lips in a frown, “what do you mean, Kento?”
His fingernails dig into his knee, biting back a sigh, as you walk over after wiping your hands off, “it’s been months of you just…taking care of me. I don’t get it — I didn’t understand when we were students when you insisted on caring for me, and now…” he swallows, his throat still impossibly dry—even after all treatment, nothing still tasted the same, “I’ve just become a burden—“
You cup his cheeks, “Kento, you are never a burden to me—“
“But—“
“But nothing — wouldn’t you do the same for me if I was in your position?” But he’s shaking his head.
“It’s not—“
“Kento, do you remember our first mission together?” he blinks, his brow furrowing, but you only smooth it with your fingers, “it was my first mission — I had barely gotten the hang of using cursed energy — I hadn’t even exorcised a curse before, but as always, jujutsu society had left children to bear the burden of survival amongst themselves,” and your fingers find his, “but you never left me alone. I froze in front of the curse. I didn’t know what to do with myself — even while you dealt with two others on your own — you still managed to save me, even though you managed to hurt yourself in the process,” your voice was soft, your hand finding his, lacing your fingers with his, squeezing his hand — but he’s not sure whether it’s to remind him you’re here or to remind yourself that he’s still here, “and you don’t remember it do you?” his lips purse, as his eyes can’t find yours, gaze cast downwards, but he hears you give a soft chuckle.
“I look at you and I see all the ways a soul can bruise — because you’ve taken hits that weren’t yours to take — you’ve taken challenges that shouldn’t have been yours to bear,” your fingers skim over his cheeks, “even in what you thought were your last moments,” your voice breaks, swallowing back tears, “your thoughts were of others — of helping your students, of Itadori, of me—” you shake your head, “and you think I’m doing too much for you? I think you deserve so much more than me—“
“All I need is you,” his voice is breaking, swallowing thickly, “that’s all I ever wanted,”
“Then just stay here with me — that would be enough for me,” you lean close and press your lips to his — and even still, the taste of your kiss was never any less sweet, “all I want is to come home to you, you think you can handle that?”
His lips find yours again, as they always would, “I’ll show you.”
~~~
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” and Nanami chuckles, his hands hooked around your knees and thighs, as your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting on one of his shoulders, “Kentoooo, you don’t have to—“
“I want to, and I’m not going to risk it getting any worse by letting you walk on the sand — the sunset was painting the water in hues of gold, pinks, and purples — and the beauty of this beach was only made better by your presence, “just let me do this for you, love,” and you sigh, relenting, as you bury your face in the side of his neck.
“My husband is so doting, just a small cut on sea glass makes you this crazy?” and he shivers slightly, but it’s not from the slight sea breeze tickling his nose, but from your nose brushing against your neck, “are we headed back already?”
“How else will we treat your foot?” your hands slide over his bare skin — the skin still scarred as it always would be, an eye tucked away under an eyepatch — unable to be saved — but your husband was saved all the same, “unless Ieiri taught you how to used reversed cursed technique before our vacation,”
“It’s really not that bad—”
“Is this your first time being a patient?” and you pout, as he chuckles, vibration of his sweet laugh against your chest as you press yourself impossibly closer, especially when you see the looks of others as the two of you walk by.
“It’s embarrassing to be carried like this,” you murmur, “come on baby, I can walk the rest of the way,” but he only hums, casting a small glance over his shoulder.
“I like carrying you like this,” his lips curled in a smirk, “everyone knows you’re mine this way,” and your cheeks burn, and you kiss his cheek, pouting as you do, “we’ll be back on the beach soon enough — we have all the time in the world sweetheart,”
And you did — you bury your face in the side of his neck again — with him—
Always.
✧ a/n: this has been a long time coming!! i feel like with every one of these fics i'm never happy with them, but then they end up being better than i remember. apparently i just don't like my writing very much haha. i hope you guys enjoy <3 it's been so long since i wrote nanamin, so i hope it came out good <3
✧ taglist: @1angel-digits1, @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone, @freaky-show, @strangehuman101, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy, @chosobeee, @luneriaa, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @forest-fruits-jam, @unorthodoxfaithxx, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @kenmei, @somrou, @spider-fan72, @missukiyo
#sab [mlist]#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento smut#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#nanami kento fanfiction#nanami x you#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x reader
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Hear me out. I can't be the only one that wants to fuck Al's demon form. Like not just the black eyed tentacle gig, I'm talking full form like the size and all 😭 I can take it I swear, Al (narrator: she could not)
Title: A Reminder To All…
Themes: its giving monster fuc but like oof, demon!form Alastor, tentacles, established relationship, rough sex, growling, blood, possessive behavior, antlers, animalistic behaviors.
It was a rather quiet afternoon at the Hazbin Hotel.
You were up in the radio tower straightening a few things while Alastor was out doing gods know what
You decided that since you had cleaned up most of the place that you would take a stroll through town as some down time.
You hummed a tune as you passed many sinners out and about. Your stroll led pass the digital shop. You slowed as you noticed a crowd gathered outside a Voxtech store.
There were multiple tvs playing things in the windows and what caught your attention was the deals they had going on.
You bit your lip. Oh it couldnt hurt to window shop right?
You entered and was immediately overwhelmed by all the fancy tech.
why did hell need modern tech you had no idea.
A shiny pink camera caught your attention.
And it was cheap.
You did need a new camera. It would help with advertisement and to show the progress of the hotel you thought as you happily paid for it and went about your way.
what you didn’t know was that Vox had been tracking you the moment you left the hotel.
that camera of yours was now his gateway into seeing what Alastor was up to.
Once back at the hotel you pulled out your shiny new purchase.
you turned it on and walked around filming a bit.
You checking the footage to check out the quality when you heard a record scratch
”what is that my dear?”
You jumped at the sound of Alastor’s voice and spun around holding the camera
His eyes narrowed on it and quirked his brow at you, airing for an explanation.
”Well Al I-I just thought that the hotel could use a camera to help with promoting. We can record our progress. Now you don’t have to do all the work.” You said with a nervous smile, hoping he wouldn’t toss it.
He walked closer to you, mainly keeping his eyes on the tech.
”and where did you get such a frivolous thing?”
you gulped “At the v-voxtech store”
His ever-present smile tightened before he shrugged “fine if you think it’ll help”
you breathed a sigh of relief and happily went about your way testing it out.
Unaware of the growing shadows emitting from him.
after spending a few hours getting the hang of your new device, you decided to call it a night and put your camera on your nightstand as you got ready for bed.
You shivered slightly under your cover, grumbling you furrowed further to seek some warmth.
why the hell was it so cold?
you shifted again in bed to feel a heavy weight on top of you.
your eyes flew open and you were met with a very frightening sight.
Alastor.
In his demon form.
Your breath got caught in your throat “A-Al?”
He tilted his head, smile wide and sharp “Sleeping well my dear?” His voice was staticky and distorted.
you were so confused.
you hardly EVER saw Alastor upset, especially to the point were he was in his demon form.
“Why is that in your room dear?” He hissed out, jutting his chin to your camera.
You tilted your head confused at his question.
he was angry about a damn camera?
A clawed hand was at your throat.
”I allow many things dear, but this unattractive piece of scrap in your room? That is where I draw the line”
You let out a squeak as your clothes suddenly disappeared and covers ripped away.
”A-Al?!”
Your hands were quickly restrained by his shadows and your legs were spreaded to welcome him closer.
when the hell did he undress?
You felt the faint ghost touch of a tentacle slide against your cunt, teasing your clit. You let out a soft moan.
”Already soaking dearest?” He hummed amused.
You felt the weight of his dick slap against your cunt.
your eyes widened he wasn’t going to…
”Alastor w-wait! I c-can’t!”
A long tongue sweated the side of your face
”But you will darling” and with that he slammed into you.
Your body seized at the sudden intrusion. You let out a cry that was silenced by a tentacle wrapping around your mouth.
Alastor rutted into you, growling and snarling.
Your eyes faintly drifted to the camera by your bed.
A blinking red dot turned on and off.
Alastor gave you a rather harsh thrust.
”eyes on me dear”
you whined loudly, trying to shift your body to accommodate to his harsh thrusting. Your eyes drifted to the top of his head.
Antlers.
you felt your fingers itch with the need to find purchase on them.
you gave a tug at the shadows and huffed, making little grabbing motions hoping he would get the hint.
he granted you grace and your hands immediately flew to his antlers.
He let outa low growl and sunk his teeth into your shoulder.
With his dick hitting that delious spot inside you, you could feel him bottoming out.
You were flipped onto your stomach, facing the camera.
the shadow around your mouth disappeared and a claw hand found your tongue.
”put on a show Mon cher” You felt him flush against you.
Moans and whines filled the room as he pounded your cunt.
A high pitch whine left your throat as you felt your cunt clench around him.
you were gonna cum soon.
”A-Al-la-stor Ah!” Your eyes crossed as your body tensed and twitched from your orgasm. He let out a deep growl and quickened his pace.
Did he get bigger?
you were suddenly face to face with him.
Your noses brushing against each other as he sought after his own release.
Your arms wrapped around his elongated neck and a hand found one of his ears.
you tugged.
Static ran through your body as he slapped his lips on yours and slammed his hips into you, purring as he filled you with his cum.
you whimpered as your legs were finally released and dropped.
Alastor was breathing heavy as he reached over to the camera
”hope you enjoyed the show old pal” he laughed before destroying the camera.
you were drifting to sleep as you watched him transform back to normal.
”sleep well my dear” was the last thing you heard as he tucked you into his side, humming a soft tune with a wide smile.
He gave a reminder.
Dont fuck with the Radio Demon.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor smut#jyoongim
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𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖌𝖌𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓
pairing: Alastor x fem!doe Reader
summary: Mating season has it’s struggles and it affects Y/N the most.
warning: no smut yet(sorryyy), talks of sex and heat, mostly fluff and Alastor being a sweetie
It has a part 2 :)
Everyone, except one person from the Hotel, was in the parlor, having coffee and just eating breakfast.
Y/N had locked herself in her room, only coming out for a few minutes to gather herself food for the whole day and to let everyone know that she was okay.
“No, but really… What the fuck is up with her?” Asked Angel.
“It’s that time of the year for deers, it’s called mating season, I looked it up.” Charlie said, before, she was worried about her so she found a book about it and learnt about it.
“Oohhh, so our doe is horny? It’s a mood, honestly.” Angel instantly got into his flirty voice and he turned to Husk “Don’t whiskers gets heats? Mmmh… We could satisfy it together!” He leaned more into him, but he only got shoved off.
“Fuck off!”
For the first time that morning, Alastor decided to speak. “It’s more than sexual feelings.” All heads turned to him in question, so he continued. “Female deers are overwhelmed by their maternal instincts, their whole bodies are aching to take care of their own little fawns.”
Vaggie spoke. “So, she is pregnant?”
“AWWW—-“ Charlie’s eyes turned big and teary.
Alastor chuckled in response. “Heavens no! This is where the sexual instincts slip in—“
“Slip in?” Angel raised his brow suggestively, but got a flick to the head, by Husk again.
“Ha.ha.ha. No. Whether she mates or not, her body still feels the need to mother.”
“That’s why she is curled up all day in that big pile of blankets?” Vaggie asked and both Charlie and Alastor nodded in unison.
“She also put on some weight too? Don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy. Her thighs are so plushy and her ass and ti—-“
“Yes, she gains weight in case she needs to feed a fawn and keep it warm during the cold season.”
There was a bit of comfortable silence before… guess who spoke up again.
“Hold on a second.” Angel perked his head up. “Aren’t you supposed to be in heat too? You’re a deer, too.”
All heads turned to Alastor, who didn’t show how uncomfortable he felt. He only chuckled with a wide smile, but before he could have brushed it off, the missing doe entered the parlor.
“Good morning!” All kinds of greetings were heard. She sat down on the couch.
“How are you today?” Husk asked her.
She smiled. “I’m okay, thank you. I am just going out, I have to stock up on my sweets, I’ve ran out. Anyway… I’m just goi—“ She started to make her way to the door, but Alastor appeared in front of her.
“Like hell you are! It’s dangerous out there for you.” He leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear. “You wouldn’t want any bucks catching your scent and doing… heaven knows what.”
“B-but I need my sweets.” She huffed.
Alastor just stroked her ears. “Don’t you worry, doe, I’ll go out and get them for you.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly ask that.” Their faces were inches away, completely oblivious that all eyes were on them and all lips were smirking their way.
“Nonsense! You just go back to your nest, lock the door and I will be there in a bit, with all you could need.” When he finished his sentence, he was already out the door.
She turned around, she needed to get back, every nerve in her body was on the edge.
When both deers were gone, Angel spoke again.
“What the fuck did I just witness?!”
“Her body acknowledged that a buck gave her commands, so she must comply.” Charlie said, with a smug undertone in her voice.
Everyone scaterred after that, only Husk and Angel were at the bar, sipping on their usual strong liquor.
“So… Creepy face is in heat too.”
Husk stopped the cleaning of the glasses to laugh.
“Exactly.”
“So, a fawn running around the hotel is not too far way in time, is it?” His fingers glided around the rim of the glass.
“If it’s up to Alastor, it will be even sooner.”
#alastor x y/n#alastor x reader#alastor smut#hazbin hotel x y/n#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fandom#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel fluff#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor x you#alastor fanfic#alastor fanfiction#alastor fluff#alastor#alastor altruist
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Mr. Right Now Part 7 | Hangman x Reader
Summary: There's a difference between sex and intimacy, and Jake is feeling the latter for the first time in a long time. When he tells you that it's important to make sure your partner knows what you want and need, your reaction feels like the nail in his coffin.
Warnings: angst, fluff, smut, adult language, oral sex, p in v intercourse, 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist
You weren't exactly sure what to think of the fact that Jake took the time to get out a washcloth and soak it in warm water before setting you down on the bathroom vanity and cleaning you up. He kissed you softly, nudging your knees so you'd spread your legs apart, and he gently ran the washcloth along your most intimate parts. Both of you were still naked, and even the sight of him soft while he took care of you made your heart pound.
He just took your virginity, and now he was whispering, "Take your time to get cleaned up and get dressed, Darlin'. I'm going to get you some more ice water, and then we can finish the pizza."
"Okay," you replied, unsure what else you should say. He walked out of the bathroom leaving you alone with skin that felt too hot and a nervous energy that you couldn't identify. You wished he was still touching you, so you quickly used the bathroom and dug around in his dresser drawer for a clean shirt before rushing out to the kitchen.
You felt a little sore, but it was a delicious ache that left you on the verge of smiling as soon as you saw him filling a wine glass with water in his underwear. "I'm ready for cold pizza," you announced, and he turned to take in the sight of you wearing his Texas Longhorns shirt with wide, green eyes.
Jake grunted in response as he headed your way with the wine glass in one big hand. When he dropped down onto the dining room chair he vacated earlier, he lured you over with his smirk and the sentence, "Nothing else is going to taste as good as you." Your steps faltered as you sucked in a deep breath, but he wrapped his free hand around your bare thigh. When he patted his lap, you met his eyes. "Have a seat."
You settled down as gingerly as you could on his thigh as he slid your glass of water next to the open pizza box, but your lips were already so close to his, you ended up kissing him. His thumb skimmed along your hip as he parted your lips with his own, tasting your tongue. He groaned softly, and your fingers threaded through his hair like that's where they belonged. Jake smiled against your lips.
"Alright, feed me some horrible pizza, or else I'll just keep wanting to taste you all night," he murmured.
You pulled away from him slowly and reached for one of the slices in the box. It was cold, and the cheese looked honestly not so great now, but you bit the end of the slice before holding it out for him.
"I don't know what you're complaining about," you said, licking your lips. "This is delicious."
Jake hummed as you fed him another bite from your hand. "I would eat this with you all the time." Your blood felt warmer as it pumped through your veins, and Jake leaned in to kiss your ear. "Do you want to stay over again?"
His place was comfortable to you already, but you were in so deep. You could hardly understand how you got yourself here, having the best weekend you could remember with this man who you barely knew but for some reason were certain you could trust.
But you took too long to answer, and as you stared at him with the half eaten slice of pizza in your hand, Jake muttered, "I can drive you home after you're done eating."
"No," you whispered. His gaze dipped down to your mouth as he frowned slightly, but you kissed him before you said, "I want to stay."
----------------------------
Jake was enjoying the nasty, cold pizza and the way you made him feel warm while you sat sideways across his lap. He was enjoying all of it too much. Just like he'd enjoyed you in bed. It was all too much, and he still wanted more.
You said you would stay over again, but what did he expect to happen tomorrow night? Especially when he could already tell he'd want even more. When he finally got you all snuggled against him in the bath earlier, you told him you had classes every morning at eight. He was going to have to drive you home at some point tomorrow, and he didn't know how to ask you if that was it. Or if there could be more.
He took another bite of the pizza from your hand and watched you nibble on the crust. You seemed contemplative, but that eager look was always there. "What's on your mind?" he asked, and you leaned against his shoulder, burying your face against his neck.
"Just reviewing the lessons in my mind," you whispered. "Making sure I don't forget anything."
Great. You were thinking about his lessons now when he just wanted to go off script. Showing you so much of himself the first time he had sex with you was probably his worst decision of all. He should have kept lesson eight simple, but instead he put himself out there, insisting he could show you more. Show you that there was a difference between fucking and intimacy. And now there was a pain in his chest. That's what he got for needing to be the best and somehow falling for you in the process.
Jake could feel your eyelashes flutter against his neck as your hand trailed down his chest to rest on his abs. You had no idea what you were doing to him, otherwise you'd definitely stop touching him like that. Or else you'd agree to never leave.
"Is there a ninth lesson?" you asked softly.
All Jake needed was for you to always be safe and get exactly what you wanted. He tucked his fingers beneath your chin and tilted your face up so you were looking at him. "There's always another lesson," he said, kissing you softly before running his thumb along your lips. "Lesson nine: make sure you tell your wants and needs to your partner. Then everyone will be clear about the expectations."
"That makes a lot of sense," you replied, chin still resting in his palm as your fingers skimmed the top of his underwear. Your eyes were wide with innocence and something more. "So, what do you want?" you asked boldly. "What do you need?"
Jake's cock throbbed against your leg, and your lips curved into a little smirk. "Come on, Darlin'. That's not fair."
You dipped your fingers into his underwear and shifted your leg as you whispered, "What's unfair about it?"
He swallowed hard, wrapping his hand around your wrist before you could touch his erection. "This is supposed to be about you. Not me."
You moaned his name, sending his mind into a frenzy as your other hand tangled in his hair again. "I got exactly what I wanted, and somehow you also gave me something I didn't know I needed."
He closed his eyes as your lips met his neck. "This is about you first and foremost, Darlin'. Remember? It's never about the guy."
You kissed along his skin as you asked, "Even when he's as sweet as you are?" His hand left your wrist so he could cup your face, and before he knew it, you were wrapping your warm fingers around his cock. "I want to give you head if you'll let me. Or I want to at least try."
Jake's head tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as he throbbed shamelessly in your hand. There was no way he could make up an excuse or lie to you, not after the day the two of you had together. "I both want and need your mouth on my cock," he groaned, already wondering if he could last long enough to enjoy it.
He stood up and hauled you over to the couch where he'd made a mess all over you earlier, prepared to do the same again now. He kissed you hard on the mouth, hand rough at the back of your neck. You whimpered in response and rubbed yourself against him. He wanted you every which way he could imagine. He wanted you to experience everything with you. But right now, you were the one pushing him down so he was sitting with his hard cock hanging out of the front of his underwear.
You looked too good in his Texas Longhorns shirt as you leaned down with your hands on his knees. "I've never done this before. Just so you're clear about your expectations."
"Jesus Christ," Jake grunted, and you sank to your knees between his spread legs as your hand slid up to wrap around his cock. He shimmied his underwear down lower on his thighs, and you looked up at him before pulling them completely off.
"But I have watched porn," you promised, letting your lips brush along his tip.
"Fuck," he growled. "Every time you say that, I lose my mind a little bit more."
You gave him a little nudge with your nose, clearly comfortable around him. "Will you tell me if it's bad? I don't want to be bad at this."
Jake held eye contact with you and slowly shook his head as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock and gave him a little swipe with your tongue like you were enjoying a lollipop. His balls tightened up knowing you'd never had another man like this. Another slow swipe of your tongue and he had to reach for your cheek and stroke your soft skin to keep himself grounded.
"It won't be bad. It couldn't be," he promised, swallowing hard. "You're smart, and frankly guys are easy to please when it comes to some pretty lips and an eager tongue."
Your lips were a little puffy from all of the kissing between the two of you, and when you pulled him free, you gave him a little pout. "But I want to be good for you." He felt dizzy again. "I want to know what you like, the same way you told me to be vocal about what I like. You've had blowjobs from probably dozens or maybe hundreds of women."
You were probably overestimating those numbers, but Jake could barely think as you grazed him with your nose again. "Darlin'," he grunted without another single thought in his head.
"Should I... take this shirt off or something?" you asked, gaze innocent even as your lips brushed along him. "You know, to turn you on more?"
Jake laughed as his head tipped back against the couch, dizzy all over again. "If I were any more turned on right now, you'd have my cum everywhere."
"Oh," you gasped, voice sounding delighted, drawing his gaze back to your pretty face. That's when you let go of him to tug his shirt over your head, discarding it on the couch next to his leg, and all he could do was stare with his mouth hanging open at how damn bold you were.
He was hard as a rock as your tits swayed while you repositioned yourself, and then your took a few inches of him. It didn't feel like you didn't know what you were doing, and he couldn't decide if that's because you were a natural or because he'd find anything you did to be a turn on. Your eyes were trained on his face as you took another inch of his cock, clearly looking for some feedback, but all he could say was, "Please, don't stop."
You made a soft sound as you took more of him, and as soon as your lips brushed his trimmed pubic hair, you gagged. Stars clouded his vision as his fingers wrapped around the discarded shirt. You gagged again and started to withdraw him, and when he was able to look at you clearly, he was panting slightly.
"Does that feel good?" you asked, mindlessly pumping his wet cock with your hand while you waited for an answer.
He nodded and said, "I'm going to finish distressingly fast. Especially given how long I was able to last in your perfect pussy."
You looked so proud of yourself as you whispered, "Tell me what you like."
As soon as your lips wrapped around him again, he placed one gentle hand at the back of your head and muttered, "I'll show you."
-------------------------------
Jake's breathing grew more ragged each time you took him deep enough to make yourself gag. And you loved the sound of his grunts and groans as much as you loved the pressure of his hand on your head and neck.
"That's it," he crooned when you sucked on him just like he had instructed. "That's it, Darlin'." His hips were rolling slightly now as you licked and sucked, absorbing everything he said and did. While he only gave you subtle instructions, it seemed like it was all designed to make you more curious. And now you desperately wanted to make him come. You wanted to taste him and feel him in your mouth at the same time.
When you needed to catch your breath, you licked around his balls, and the sound he made was one of the hottest things you'd ever heard. "You like that?"
"Uh huh," he grunted, eyes wild as you did it again. "Fuck. Fuck. I'm getting real close. Jesus Christ, your tits look good. You're fucking killing me."
You smirked, knowing taking the shirt off had been a good idea. The only problem was that you wanted to taste him, but your pussy was also wet with desire now. He did tell you to let him know what you needed and wanted, so you went for it. "Jake, my pussy is soaked," you whispered before licking a steady line back to his tip. "Will you fuck me again later?"
"For the love of god," he groaned, rubbing his free hand over his face. "I'll do anything you want. I'll fuck you all night. Anything, Darlin'."
You felt strangely powerful as you took him all the way again, reveling in the way it felt to gag on his cock. When you bobbed your head, you could feel how tight his entire body became. Like a coil ready to snap.
"I'm so fucking close," he whined as you sucked. "You don't have to swallow." You frowned up at him with your mouth full. "You want to swallow?" he asked softly, and you nodded which made him groan again. "It'll be different than when I came on you, and some women don't like the taste."
You pulled him free and said, "I already tasted you earlier. I want to feel you to cum in my mouth," before taking him deep one more time. Jake moaned your first name as his fingers tightened around the back of your neck.
"God damn, god damn," he chanted, cheeks ruddy. "So good."
And then he came, and you tasted him. It was shocking how suddenly your mouth felt full, but he tasted as good as he did before, and you tried to swallow him quickly. But you could feel some of his cum drip down your chin as you looked up at him.
Jake dragged his thumb through it before coaxing your lips apart. You licked it clean before he scooped up a little more and fed it to you. His breathing was calmer now as his cock softened and rested on his thigh, and you couldn't stop looking at what you'd turned him into. He was somehow relaxed and also more keyed up than ever.
"I love the way it tastes," you whispered, already feeling your face heat up at the simple admission. "I already want more." You weren't sure if it was just Jake who tasted so good that you'd happily drop to your knees at the mere suggestion of it, or if it was every man. But his next sentence had you scrambling onto his lap.
"You already sound like a cum slut."
But you knew no shame whatsoever, completely naked in his arms. "Will you cum in my mouth again? Please?"
He kissed you, swiping his tongue along yours, and you could imagine just how that tasted. Then his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, and he pulled you up so you were standing on his couch on shaky legs with your pussy right in font of his face. "I said I'd do anything you wanted, and I meant it. But right now this is what I want to do."
Jake was being bossy, and you loved it. He guided you where he wanted you, and then his mouth was all over your pussy. Lesson nine... lesson nine... make sure your partner is clear about what you want and need. "I want to come all over your face," you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair to keep yourself upright as his tongue traced a devilish little circle around your clit.
"You will, Darlin'."
-------------------------------
The floodgates had opened. You were just as insatiable as Jake was. It was so late now as you and he worked through the rest of that box of condoms you found in his bathroom, exploring each other in every way imaginable. Every time he even looked at you, it was with more intent than he was used to, and that was just fueling how badly he wanted you. And you welcomed his every suggestion, surprising him at every turn with some of your own.
There was a condom wrapper abandoned somewhere near the couch where you'd asked him to fuck you doggy style. The lack of eye contact didn't feel any less intimate when he had his lips pressed to your neck and ear, coaxing your orgasm from you one word at a time.
There was another condom wrapper on the bathroom vanity where he was currently giving you a slow thrust from behind where both of you could watch each other in the mirror. His cheeks were flushed pink as you gasped his name, and his lips connected with the side of your neck. "Good girl," he whispered, praising you every time you thrust back against him. "Get what you want. Tell me what you want."
The front of his body was pressed to yours, and he was gently squeezing your breasts, enjoying the look and feel of them as his thrusts made them bounce. You grabbed his wrist, never breaking eye contact in the mirror as you dragged his hand lower and said, "Make me come."
Sex was never this simple or this complicated for him before. Being with you felt effortless. Both of you were making your expectations known, and he was enjoying every second of being in your presence. But he was already hesitant about dropping you off at your dorm. When he kissed your shoulder and dragged his fingers along your clit, he knew he needed to say something about the feeling in his chest, but he just couldn't do it. That's not why you were here.
"I think you made me good at sex," you whimpered, bracing both hands on the sink vanity as you tossed your head back and came on his cock. It was beautiful. All of it. He slowed his fingers as you rode out your orgasm, and his hand came to rest low on your belly.
"There was never a single moment when you weren't," he promised, and then you were kissing him over your shoulder. It wasn't just sex either, because now he couldn't wait to get you cleaned up and take you to his bed for the rest of the night. And that thought was enough to make him come inside you for what felt like the hundredth time today.
He was exhausted. Wrung out. He had nothing left to give you physically at the moment, but as if by instinct, you turned around in his arms to face him as soon as he was done grunting your name, and you tossed your arms around his neck. He kept you caged in there between his body and the sink in his dimly lit bathroom while you gave him the sweetest kisses, bodies slick with sweat. Neither of you said a word for a long time, even as the kisses tapered off so your cheek was simply resting on his chest, and he traced soft shapes along your hip. He felt you yawn, and he had to fight the urge to as well as he finally forced himself to take a step away from you.
"It's late, Darlin'. Let me get you cleaned up," he whispered as he removed the condom, not bothering to find the wrapper to join it in the trash can. He reached for a clean washcloth, and you let him take care of you while you yawned again, and then the two of you brushed your teeth side by side before he took your hand.
The window was still cracked from last night when you had asked if he could hear the ocean in his room, and he pushed it open a little further as you climbed into his bed like you belonged there. He was going to be completely unable to separate his feelings from the physical acts between you and him this weekend, but he tucked himself in behind you anyway. Once again fell asleep to the sounds of your soft breathing and the waves crashing in the distance.
-----------------------------
I love them, but they are so oblivious about what the other one is feeling. Darlin', there's a reason you're so comfortable around Jake. Jake, there's a reason you can't get enough of her. Just a few more chapters left. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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Late Night ~ J. Seresin x Fem!Reader
Summary: You and Jake had gotten into an intense argument before he went off to work, now it was night fall and he comes home late.
Warnings: language, angry Jake, fluff at the end.
Never go to bed angry. That’s what everyone tells you when you’re engaged. Hold each other in the mornings, kiss each other good night, go out on dates, don’t have boring sex, keep showing up for one another. That’s what all the old ladies say in public when they see the ring.
Here you are now though, staring at that rock on your finger and not listening to any of that advice.
You paced around your home for a while, you made dinner, sat at the table and waited. Your food got cold. You left Jake a plate in the microwave, then cleaned up. You watched tv for a while, the hour of his usual arrival came and went, time kept ticking on. You took a shower, you put on your silk nightgown, you brushed and blow dried your hair and then you sat in bed, getting more and more frustrated.
Where was he?
The fight was ugly, Jake canceled plans yet again and you were overly frustrated. He’s missed dinners, changed multiple plans of going out with your shared friends. He wasn’t in bed most mornings anymore because he wanted to get his day started earlier for work. You were very understanding at first, he was up for a promotion, his job is stressful enough and you understood his need to lighten his load. That was a month ago. He still skipped out on plans, he wouldn’t even discuss a date for the wedding. Slowly but surely, you were losing your mind, your frustration finally spilled out in the morning when Jake said he was going out with the squad after work, making you have to re think your idea of setting up a romantic night in.
It was a perfectly good Friday night and your fiancé was spending it without you.
He had asked you why you were being moody, you told him you were fine but he grew irritated at your irritation. Soon the two of you were calling each other ridiculous and he was slamming the door shut behind him on his way out.
You got in bed and laid on your side, huffing. There’s the distinct sound of his key turning in the front door, you can hear him coming down the hall and the soft creak of the bedroom door opening. He knows you’re not asleep, but you don’t turn to face him as he stands in the doorway.
He comes into the room, shuts the door and goes to his side of the closet. He undresses, goes into the bathroom for a little bit to wash his face and brush his teeth.
“It’s really late, Jake.” You simply say as he comes back out.
He nods even though you can’t see him. “I know, sorry.” He says, then comes to your side of the bed, standing, looking down at you. You don’t meet his gaze, he can clearly see the irritation on your face. “You’re just not even gonna look at me?” He asks in a growing defense.
You finally look into those green eyes you once fell for. “I’m tired, just come to bed.”
“Tired or just still pissed at me?”
So this was the game he wanted to play.
You adjust to sit up, the covers sliding onto your lap. “Both, actually.”
He sighs, taking a seat at the end of the bed, putting a safe distance between the two of you. “The fight this morning shouldn’t have happened.” He says.
“No, it shouldn’t have.” You agree. “And you should’ve called and told me you were going to be late. Actually, you shouldn’t have gone out at all.”
Jake’s brows crease together, you know his features well enough to know he’s slowly growing irritated. “I needed a little space, especially after you created a mess this morning.”
He was an idiot with words.
You take a second to gather your nerves. “I cannot believe you right now. I’m sorry if I blew up at you, Jake, but I didn’t know what to do when you blew me off yet again. Seriously, what is your deal?” You ask.
“My deal?” He scoffs. “I have no ‘deal’. You’re the one who’s making problems where they don’t need to be.”
At his words, you shove the covers completely off of you. Your feet plant on the floor and you put a significantly more distance between you. Jake watches you slowly pace.
“I think I’ve officially lost my mind.” You say, nodding your head. “That has to be the case, right? I’m just a problem starter, I’m too suffocating, just someone you need space from?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He states after realizing how bad it sounds. “It just gets a little hard when you’re being too demanding.”
You pause, looking at him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. This was Jake, your Jake. The man sitting in front of you, calling you demanding, was the same man who promised you a great future.
“Tell me how I’m being demanding.” You say. “Am I too much when I ask to eat dinner with you? Is it too overbearing when I just need a night with no interruption, just one night where you’re not focused on work or going out with your squad?”
He stands now too. “You make it sound easy.”
“Because it can be!” You snap. “It can be easy but you aren’t trying! Jake, I need you to try.”
He runs his hand through his hair, groaning before lashing out in his own way. “I am trying, for fuck sakes! Do you honestly know how hard it is to try and balance everything?” His tone is rough and it startles you. You stand, looking up at him. He doesn’t let you get a next word in, he just continues. “So I miss out on a few dinners, there are bigger things I need to deal with.”
You scoff, huffing. “A few dinners? Jake, you’ve been treating me like I’m your casual girlfriend and not the woman you’re marrying. Hell, who knows if we’re even getting married at this point, it’s like I’m torturing you when I talk about it.”
“Of course we’re getting married.” He rolls his eyes, thinking you’re being overly dramatic.
“You could’ve fooled me.” You say, arms crossed over your chest. “Jake, I am your partner, that means something.”
“I know that! I know it means something, you think I don’t feel like shit already? I do, trust me, I know how fucked up I’ve been.” Jake snaps, tone utterly deep and it rumbles from his throat.
“Then why do you do it?” You ask, voice wavering. You didn’t want to cry, but it felt like your heart was breaking.
He clenched his jaw. “I don’t know what else to do, you don’t understand.”
“I could understand if you’d just fucking talk to me!”
You weren’t a very loud person, you were always very calm and collected, but standing in your bedroom, looking at your fiancé who was being far too confusing, all you wanted to do is scream. A thousand thoughts run through your mind, your insecurities rage.
Jake just looks at you, chewing his tongue. His silence makes things worse.
You take in a breath. “Is it…is it really me?” You begin to ask, hand on your uneasy stomach. “Am I so hard to talk to? I feel like I’ve been right behind you this entire time, ready for whatever you need. Have I not made you feel that way? Or-or is it you? You don’t want me by your side anymore?”
His eyes soften, he shakes his head. “No, no.” He mumbles but tears are already falling down your face.
“Is it someone else? Is there someone else?” Your shoulders shake.
He comes forward swiftly, gently gripping your arms. He looks you dead in the eye. “No. Don’t ever think that.”
“Then what’s the real problem? Please!” You plead.
“It’s me!” He shouts back. “It’s my fear, it’s my stress and I haven’t figured out how to move forward withe life and have all these damn changes!”
Your lip quivers, watching him work through his thoughts.
Jake breathes heavy. “I got moved up the ranks, I have all these new responsibilities I thought I could handle with ease but I can’t. I’m st-”
He chokes on the word.
“I’m s-struggling and I hate that.” He steps back, motioning to you next. “And I’m taking it out on you and I don’t know why, it’s like being around you too often reminds me that I promised you an easy life and right now, that’s not what I can offer.”
You soften, still crying but not for yourself. You come to reach up, pushing his hair back slightly.
“I’m not marrying you for an easy life, I’m marrying you because I love you, Jake. That means being the only one you can come to at the end of the day. The stress and fear won’t scare me, okay? What scares me is the idea of you disappearing.” You softly ensure, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
He sighs and pulls your hand away, intertwining it with his. “I’m an ass. I’m a really big ass, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
His other warm hand wipes your face clean of any tears. You smile. “I’ll only forgive you if you promise to talk to me about things from now on.”
Jake smiles, then kisses your forehead. “I promise.”
As the two of you lay in bed, you turn over to wrap your arm around his middle, head on his chest as you tangle your legs with his. His calloused hand slides up and down your back.
“I’d be okay with a Spring wedding.” Jake says, breaking comfortable silence.
You adjust to look up at him. “Spring?”
He nods. “Yeah, I think you’ll look nice next to all those colors.”
You grin and lay your head back down. “Spring time it is.”
#top gun fandom#top gun maverick#glen powell#fluff#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake seresin x y/n#jake hangman fic#hangman x you#jake hangman seresin#hangman x reader#jake hangman x reader#argument
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We’re supposed to be eating breakfast
older!steve x fem!reader an AIRWIY oneshot
summary: You wake up after your first sleep over at Steve’s house feeling bold.
wc: 3.1k
warnings: 18+ older!steve, smut, p in v, cream pie, breeding kink, mentions of past drinking, reader is wearing Steve’s baseball jersey but it’s not really described how it fits on readers body, no real descriptions of readers body.
authors note: this took me over a month to write with everything going on in my personal life, so I’m excited to finally give it to you. thank you all for your patience and encouragement to keep coming back on here every day despite me not writing as much as I used to and to keep me opening my word docs. this one was spurred my @palmtreesx3 brilliant mind and an idea that’s haunted me day and night. This takes place in the All I Really Want Is You universe, but can be read as a stand alone. Just know you’re wearing Steve’s personalized cubs jersey. :)
The harsh sounds of the coffee grinder is what wakes you up, but the golden rays of morning sunshine that leaks through the cracks in the blinds is what gets your eyes to open. Slow soft blinks, with fluttering lashes and brain still fuzzy from the kind of sleep that makes you temporarily forget what year it is, you need a moment to recognize the unfamiliar, much nicer surroundings.
You were in Steve’s room.
A smile you can’t contain spreads wide across your face, butterfly wings tickling at your rib cage. Stretching your still sleeping limbs, your body melts into the soft cushions of his mattress. The feathers that fill his pillows contour to your head perfectly, and the memories of the ways he had you pressed into it resurface, skin igniting with the ghost of his hands on your curves. Biting your bottom lip, the kind of nerves that you haven’t had since the Fourth of July make themselves known again, having never spent a morning with him at his home.
Rolling over, your face hits the cotton of his pillowcase that you’re not surprised is cold. Shamelessly you inhale the cedar and spice that still lingers on it, and the faint ache between your thighs, along with the clinks of glass you hear from his sink, reminds you that he’s just down stairs. It takes a little bit of willpower to leave the cozy cocoon you’ve found yourself in but the need to see him over powers the comfort of his duvet that feels like just the right amount of weight against your body.
Shuffling out of the covers, your bare feet hit the cold hard wood of his floors, a shiver crawling up your spine that you tell yourself is from the chill of the winter air that seeps through his unsealed windows, definitely not your nerves catching a glimpse of your naked body in his dresser mirror. The same mirror you’d seen him in almost five months ago.
Padding across his bedroom you wonder if he can hear your steps as you search for any sign of your clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around after an old bottle of red wine. The clean white color of his jersey catches in your gaze, the blue bold lettering that spells out his last name has your thighs pressing at the memory of your second date as it sits folded on top of his dresser.
The thought of how good he looked with it stretched across his broad shoulders, and the top two buttons undone, teasing the chest hair that your nails dragged through last night makes your skin warm. The praises he whispered in hot merlot against your lips, your neck, and between your legs is what gives you the confidence you need to slip it on instead.
The stairs creak under each step, but the popping grease of the bacon that fills his house with the smell of maple lets you go undetected. Familiar voices of who you’re learning are sportscasters, spill out from the small speaker on his phone that you know is propped up on the little plastic holder he always sets it on when he charges it. He mumbles something in response to the commentary under his breath, and you hear the beeping of the oven telling him it’s finished preheating.
Your cheeks hurt from how high they push up when you realize Steve’s making you breakfast.
A little shy from his affections already, your fingers wrap around the wood frame of the entryway with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. With his back to you, it gives you a perfect view of the way his white cotton undershirt stretches tight over his shoulder blades that move with every flick of his wrist, forearms flexing as he whisks whatever is in the bowl in front of him. Black sweats sit low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of his boxer briefs underneath, the font across the top of his waist band says Burberry, making your palms sweat. A personal favorite pair.
He turns his head to look at a replay of a game he missed in favor of spending time with you on his phone screen, still completely unaware of your presence. The new angle reveals the silver glasses he wore a few weeks ago in his office, dark chestnut and peppered hair sticking out wild at the ends, a mess you know was made by your hands.
“Seriously? Keep him on the bench.” He grumbles, shaking his head before bringing his attention back to the bowl.
You watch him for a few seconds longer, but his butt jiggling with the force of his whisking makes a giggle slip past your lips blowing your cover. He jumps at the noise no matter how sweet it is, meeting your eyes from over his shoulder. Steve gives you a smile that you’re learning is only reserved for you and sometimes Eddie, punching the air out of your lungs. Watching the way it only continues to grow across his stubble covered face makes your heart swell even more.
It’s only when his gaze finally lands on the only thing you’re wearing that the gold shimmering inside his eyes darken, a starless night lingering where the bottom hem of his jersey sits at the very tops of your thighs.
“Jesus honey, look at you.” The metal whisk hits the glass of the bowl with a loud clink as he turns around to really drink you in, “good morning to me.”
“I hope this is okay,” your voice comes out smaller than intended, suddenly self conscious you might have overstepped despite the way he watches you take your first steps into the kitchen like he wants to eat you alive.
“Okay?” His huffs out a breath like he’s wrecked, long fingers coming up to scratch at his jaw, “I’m afraid you’re not allowed to wear anything else in my house ever again.”
You giggle again, and you swear you hear him groan because of it.
“I think we might be able to arrange something, a deal, an agreement of some sort.” you smirk, tapping your nails along the smooth black marble of his kitchen island, giving your hips a little extra sway with your slow steps.
Both his palms curve around the counter behind him as he leans back, chest puffing while he licks his full pink lips. They pull up into a lopsided grin, a hungry gaze roaming freely as you come to a stop right in front of him. His confidence only falters a little when he has to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, but the gesture only makes your heart swell especially when the tops of his ears redden.
You lean against the island with a smile that tells him you’re up to no good. Heat from the oven and the man across from you warms your legs against the chill that bounces off all the glass and stone in his kitchen. Electricity sparks in the space between your bodies making the tips of your fingers and toes buzz, your pulse jumping when he reaches a big hand out for you.
“Just a little bit too far for me still baby,” He wiggles his fingers at you making you smile shyly before you slip your hand into his palm, your eyes glaze over watching it disappear in his grasp.
His gentle tug makes you squeal, hitting his chest with a soft thump, he grins down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Wrapping an arm around you to keep you from leaving, he lets go of your hand to cup the side of your face. The pad of his thumb traces the length of your cheek bone, and he smells just his pillow. Your hands find themselves tangled into the cotton of his shirt, leaning deeper into his touch. It makes the playfulness that dances in the chestnut of his eyes turn soft with something lovesick.
“Good morning handsome,” you say in a content sigh, and the hand that's spread across your back starts to work a path up your spine pulling the fabric of his jersey with it.
“I could really get used to this you know,” He hums, dipping his head down so the tip of his nose runs up the length of yours, mint and coffee on his breath “waking up to you.”
Your stomach flips at his words, all the blood rushing to your cheeks when you feel the cool breeze hit where your underwear should be.
“Oh yeah? What about Bandit?” You tease leaning closer, letting your top lip catch his bottom one.
Steve snorts a little, reminded of his dog who he knows is soaking up the sun outside, and the palm on your back squeezes you even closer.
“Are you kidding me? We’re obsessed with you over here honey.” The whites of his teeth show a little before they nip at your pout. He takes advantage of the gasp he earns, closing the gap completely in the kind of kiss that doesn’t give you any time to catch your breath before he’s licking at your bottom lip.
Your fingers untangle themselves from his shirt, and find a new home to get lost in the locks at the nap of his neck. Tongues meet in the middle with eager enthusiasm, and your front teeth hit as you push up on your tippy toes on the search for more. A deep groan vibrates from his chest, and his palm starts working its way down the dip of your back. When he’s met with the bare swell of your ass as he reaches the bottom hem of his jersey, you feel him kick up in his sweatpants.
“Tough girl.” He says your nickname like he's scolding you, leaving open mouthed kisses up your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before whispering with the kind of gravel in his voice that makes the inside of your thighs sticky. “We’re supposed to be eating breakfast.”
You hardly register him turning the oven off beside you.
“Who says -“ your sentence is cut off by a gasp when two thick fingers trace up your slick lips with ease, the pads of them pressing down on your bundle of nerves just long enough to make you whine with shaky knees.
“Who says what huh?” He whispers against the sensitive spot behind your ear, rubbing small circles on your clit with pointed pressure, obsessed with the way your jaw goes slack, and your eyebrows pinch together because of it.
“Who says we can’t do both?” You manage to get out with fluttering lashes, as he spreads you apart.
“You’re right, I don’t think breakfast is gonna be sweet enough for me.” He tuts, letting his middle finger push just a knuckle into your already greedy walls, and the soft moan that he gets from you has him leaking in his sweats. “You gonna help me with that, honey?”
Too lost in his teasing all you manage is a nod and a breathy ‘mmhmm’ looking up at him with big glassy eyes. He lets his lips ghost over yours, with a smirk tugging at the corners of them before spinning you around. Your palms land back on the cool marble of the kitchen island while both his hands wrap themselves firmly around the soft dough of your hips keeping his Jersey rucked up with them. He pulls your ass flush with his hips, letting you feel the hard length of him that begs to be released from the fleece confines of his pants against the ache in your core.
“This is what you wanted when you came down here lookin’ like this huh?” He asks with a low voice, hooking his thumbs under the bottom of his jersey. Lifting it higher up your back, he grinds against you while his eyes drink in all the soft dips of all your curves.
“Maybe,” you giggle a little breathy looking back over your shoulder at him with half lidded eyes.
His smile steals all the warm light from the room as he looks down at you with a cocked brow.
“I was trying to wait till after breakfast, which was hard waking up to you naked in my bed.” He can’t stop his heavy gaze from wandering to his last name covering the top of your back, unlocking something primal and possessive inside of him that he thought he’d lost forever. He wants you to leave it on, he’ll get it dry cleaned. “But honey, I can’t keep my hands off of you lookin’ like this.”
His palm feels heavy as it slides over the curve of your ass, squeezing at the fat with strong fingers spreading you apart a little before shoving his sweatpants half way down his hairy thighs. With hot cheeks, you flutter around nothing when the thickness of his cock springs free, standing at attention just for you. Somersaults in your stomach as you watch his tight grip pump himself a few times. Your hips wiggle in anticipation, whining when he teases more, gliding his tip through your slick, a small moan spilling from between your lips when he catches your clit.
“Always so needy for me,” he groans with a hint of disbelief, “fuck, what’d I do to deserve you?”
Steve doesn’t waste anymore time, slowly pushing in and the feeling of your walls wrapping around him while your body tries to accommodate the stretch has him chanting your name under his breath. Half way in, he regrips your hips a little rougher than before. His cock twitches watching your back bow, making his last name shine against the light while your nails scratch at the cool marble when he bottoms out.
Legs shaking, still sensitive from the night before, his hold on you tightens. You keen at the feeling of his thumbs rubbing small circles into your soft skin giving you time to adjust. It doesn’t take long for the initial sting subside, giving you the strength to rock your hips a little, a breathy sigh escaping you when it feels good.
“Yeah?” He hums, meeting your hips with his own hitting that spot that makes your toes curl.
“Uh huh” You manage to utter as he pulls almost all the way out, a moan of his name long and drawn out bounces off the walls when he pushes back in letting you feel every inch.
“That’s my girl,” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes you want to turn around and see it.
Your eyes meet from over your shoulder again as he starts to roll his hips, finding the perfect pace. The sound of skin slapping fills the quiet space between moans every time your ass jiggles from the force of it. That strand falls messily over his forehead when he looks down at you, brows pinching together and jaw going slack like seeing your face only intensified everything he was feeling. He holds your stare, and the snap of his hips starts to get rougher. Burying himself deep focusing on that spot, the one he’s only ever been able to find.
“Oh, oh- Steve. Right there -shit - oh my god.” Your head falls between your shoulders, when he starts to barely pull out anymore. The tip of him making your eyelashes flutter as he reaches the spot that had you screaming his name last night, over and over again.
His eyes wander the expanse of your back, keeping his pace while his hands slowly start to slide up your sides, pushing his jersey with it. He wants to see more of you, but his hips stutter hearing the noises he’s getting out of you with his last name plastered across your hunched shoulders.
“You look so good - shiiit, like this baby. My name on your back, letting me bend you over in my kitchen while I cook you breakfast.” He babbles as your walls start to flutter, already dangerously close to falling over the ledge, your body threatening to take him with you. “Wanna do this all the time, please, let me do this all the time, honey.”
“Whatever, whatever you want. I’ll do whatever you want, I’m - oh fuck, I’m yours.” Your words break off in a moan when he starts to circle his hips at the same time you push yours back and he holds you there, repeating the motion.
“Yeah? You’re mine?” Steve grunts, cock twitching at the thought of filling you up, and for the first time in over a decade he feels the need to mark what’s his in the most primal way he knows. The thought of you round with his kid brings a new kind of intensity to the way he starts to fuck you, and he knows he’s not going to last much longer. “Tell me again.”
“Mmmhmm, always yours.” You whine, feeling yourself reaching the edge. Steve leans forward, somehow going deeper. Long thick fingers find their way between your thighs, where the two of you connect and he starts rubbing messy circles on your clit, pushing you off the cliff.
You flutter and squeeze around him hard enough to almost push him out, but he continues rutting his hips fighting against it, white spots explode behind your lids, his name falling out of your mouth broken in a gasp and a shudder.
“That’s it, fuck, that’s it.” He groans, watching the way your forehead hits the cold marble with another tremor that makes his cock twitch. “Gonna cum baby, let me cum inside, need it, please.”
He can make out the nod of your head, and with the little strength you have left, you push yourself further back encouraging him more. He knows you're on the pill, he’s seen you take it, but right now in the heat of it all, a small part of him hopes you missed a day. He blames the blue letters on his Jersey staring him right in the face, or the way you coat his cock with the remains of what he did to you every time you suck him right back in.
He pushes himself deep enough to make you fall forward a little, a low groan rumbling deep from his chest as he spills hot inside of you the rock of his hips slowing down as he falls apart. His forehead hits your back, with one last lazy thrust, and you can feel the heat of his breath as he pants to catch his breath. You wish the fabric of his jersey wasn’t so thick when he plants a kiss between your shoulder blades, before slowly pulling himself back up.
“Yeah, it’s official. This is absolutely the only thing you’re allowed to wear here.”
#my writing#all i really want is you#steve harrington#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x reader smut
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May I request a Cowboy!James x reader where R is sick but trys to push through it and help out around the farm so she doesn't tell James but randomly when they're feeding the horses (Its a cold day) she passes out because she's got a really bad fever and she hasn't been eating properly because of how ill she feels
You probably should’ve told James that you hadn’t been feeling well.
Your room hadn’t had enough heating last night and the first chill of autumn was rolling in all night. You’re susceptible to the change in weather and you should’ve really really said something when you’d woken up.
“I’ll clean with the horses and organize the feed for them.” You say to James but you’re sluggish and the coffee you’d had earlier hasn’t kicked in yet.
You don’t think it will.
Snowglobe and Landslide are easy to deal with, older and much calmer than some of the fillies and colts.
Some of them buck and give you a bit of attitude when you’re brushing through their coats and mane but you get through it before your first wave of nausea hits.
“Fuck,” you groan, wondering if you should call James or if you can manage.
You swallow hard and push through. You already feel like enough of a burden to him now that you’re in your off months- there’s only a month again till TSG is ready to reopen for Winter- you’re not gonna shrink away from this.
You’re halfway through feeding the horses when you wobble. There’s a cold sweat breaking out on your upper lip and your heels feel like they’re off the ground.
“I’m coming Snowglobe.” You murmur, reaching for the bucket of feed to put in the feedbox when you feel unsteady. You feel like you’re floating before you hit the ground.
“Hey, darling, you’re scaring me.” You’re not sure how long you’ve been on the floor but James had your head in his lap and his hand cupping your face.
“I’m sorry, I never fed Snowglobe.” James chuckles, Snowglobe’s laying next to you, head at your side.
James had actually found the horse nudging at your side. “I think he’s more worried about you, darling.”
You reach a hand to him, Snowglobe’s nose butting your palm. “Why didn’t you say you weren’t well?” James keeps his hand on your forehead and neck; you’re burning up and from the wetness on your shirt you have been for hours.
“Thought I could do everything and then crash.”
James sighs, “How’d you get a fever, darling? Slept with wet hair again?”
You shake your head and nibble on your lip. You’re afraid James will be upset but you can’t lie when he asks you a question straight up.
“The heating in my room is busted, so I opened the window and the cold air really fucked me up.”
He groans, his lips to your forehead. “Silly girl,” James helps you sit up and pushes Snowglobe’s head away from you. “Could’ve just came into my room.”
You nod, “Sorry for getting ill Jamie.”
He only rolls his eyes, “I’m not upset. You can’t help it. Let’s go inside, I can make some soup for you.”
You smile, leaning into him as you stand on swaying legs. “And a grilled cheese?”
James laughs, “If you want to chicken soup and grilled cheese you’ll get it. You can take a bath while I fix everything up.”
#jamespotter#james potter#james potter imagine#james potter fanfiction#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#james potter drabble#james potter headcanon#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter fic#james potter fanfic#james potter x black reader#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x yn#james potter x y/n#cowboy!james potter#cowboy!james
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a/n: not sure if other countries have rubbish chutes but my country does! i have to get out of my house to go to the common floor chute to throw my rubbish so this is just a little drabble based on that + spider-man!gojo :) / tagging @osaemu @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @mysugu ✶
“yes, yes! i’ll take out the trash—” you’re shouting to your mom when you’re called upon again, the third time within ten minutes to take the trash out. through your one-sided airpods (your left one always dies first), you can hear your mom tying the plastic bag and cleaning up at the sink.
it’s always been her bringing it to the chute outside your house; occasionally, you’d help but routine has never really let you do it, so later when you’re awkwardly tucking your phone into your pocket and listening to charlie burg’s voice through the right airpod, you can’t help the grimace that takes over your features at the wetness all over the trash bag.
“oh, it’s just water; stop being dramatic!” your mom chastises whilst on her nightly cup of water, gulping down the beverage before nodding towards the master bedroom, “i’m gonna go to sleep first.”
you hum in a half-hearted response, a little annoyed that you were interrupted from your lazing around but you still manage a soft goodnight when she disappears into the room and the house falls quiet. apart from the background classical music that plays from the stereo in the room and the laughter of the older kids downstairs outside, you’re living in a world of both music and silence, feeling a little disoriented by the one-sided song.
the walk to the outdoor chute is short in your oversized puffer jacket, flip-flops seemingly slapping against the floor in attempts of waking up all your neighbours beside you but thankfully they don’t seem to mind when you walk past their homes. it’s cold, feeling the snow that beats into the open corridors that lead to the rubbish chute. beside it, there’s a ledge that overlooks the other buildings, too.
with one swift step to the foot lever, the chute opens and you’re dumping the trash bag into the dirty, stained metal device and with a listening ear, you grin when you hear the bag travel through the tunnel and reach the bottom with a big plunk!, not really realising the ledge now held something.
or someone.
“h—”
if your slippers didn’t wake the neighbours up, your scream definitely did when spiderman himself hops off the ledge and leaps forward to place his palm over your mouth. it only fuels your desire to scream even more before you remember that your damn boyfriend is the vigilante that the police are looking for and citizens are rooting for more and more and that calms your racing heart just a bit.
but you still give him his due treatment . .
“what!” smack. “the!” smack. “fuck!” smack. “were!” smack. “you!” smack. “thinking?!” smack.
. . even if the widening of his spider-man mask eyes were adorable.
“sorry! sorry, sorry—” spider-man!gojo only continues to apologise but you can tell he’s enjoying it at least a little, hands gripping your biceps to help you to centre yourself. and as you predicted, once your boyfriend pulls off his mask, there’s a shit-eating grin and a cheeky glint in his eyes.
you muster the most unimpressed face you can — “really? i’m starting to think you’re not really sorry,” your mouth twists when you roll your eyes, getting ready to make a show of heading back into your house before he brings you into his arms. even with a hint of faux protest from you, you’re melting into his embrace, grumbling into his chest.
there’s a hint of wetness along his suit that you feel against your body, probably from the snow outside, but mostly you can feel the cold air against your hair and laboured breaths in your ear.
“i am! i missed you . .” he mumbles, suited fingers gripping your body tight against him like you were an apparition, “i just wanted to, uhm—”
it’s rare that you see your boyfriend having such a hard time with words, but it’s a cute sight when he pulls away and stumbles in his sentences and quickly removes the backpack that he’s webbed to the wall outside. there’s a noise of surprise from you as you watch him crawl outside on all fours and rip the backpack, scrambling to remove something from it.
and you’re so caught off-guard — in his hands are a ruined bouquet of flowers and a mixtape he’s put together for you — that you giggle at the state of it and coo at his downcast expression. he’s looking in the bag, outside, anywhere for what might’ve been the culprit to make the flowers turn out that way until he realises he had bought them a tad bit early and had been swinging around with it the whole day.
“aw . . satoru, they’re still pretty!” you take the gift with grateful hands, something you cherish despite his busy schedule of school and fighting villains. “but maybe don’t go on missions when you’ve got fresh flowers in your bag?”
satoru whines at that as he instinctively webs his backpack again, sulking until you’re leaping forward to give him another tight hug. alas, you would’ve preferred the comfort of his familiar hoodie but you can settle for the spandex of his suit as you squeeze him tight, ignoring the cold air that seeps into your bones.
“thank you, thank you ’toru . .” you smile, pulling away slightly before you take in the state of him. you didn’t have much time before, but now you can fully appreciate his white stark hair that matches the snow outside and the blue of his eyes that mirror his suit.
“it’s the thought that counts right?” he asks awkwardly, scratching his head with the hand that clutches his mask.
you burst out laughing, “yes. yes it indeed is,” you smoothen out his hair, but not before you’re forming an idea, “i’ll— i’ll go put these in water and see if i can salvage them. you, stay here.”
with one peck to his cheek, you’re off back to your house but the bouquet of flowers is only left on your bedside table. in your hands are something else, a scarf and beanie that you take back to the area of the rubbish chute.
it’s not a place you deem romantic, but you’d never pass up a surprise visit from your superhero boyfriend. when you get back he’s removing the fallen petals from his bag, interrupting his activity when you place the scarf around his neck.
“here,” you smile, wrapping it around once and tucking in the ends, “it’s cold.”
satoru looks at you like everything good in the world, a bright grin breaking through when your eyes meet his in the midst of your adjusting.
“just so you know, you might not see this scarf ever again, sweetness.”
you laugh, “why? cause it’s got my scent all over it?”
gojo shrugs and gestures, “partially, but also it might fall off while i’m doing big boy things and swingin’ around in the neighbourhood.”
you push his shoulder lightly and joke, “if my scarf touches the city ground, you’re never hearing from me again.”
and all he does is cross his heart and hold out his hand, “i humbly hold your promise to my heart, your royal highness.”
gently you pull him towards you with the scarf ends, careful not to choke him. there, your lips collide with his glossed ones that manage to stay like that despite the cold weather, while your chapped ones only surprise him. but he swallows the shock soon enough, humming into the kiss softly as he wraps his suited arms around you. you’re so warm, puffer jacket and all and his neck is already heating up from the scarf and his flustered state, enough heat to fuel him through the night.
when oxygen becomes scarce you find that you need to pull away, met again with his pretty eyes that soften just by looking at you, but you both know that he needs to go when the notifications on his phone don’t stop. it’s probably his trackers notifying him about the villain, so you help him put on his mask, making sure the eye holes fit exactly where it needs to go and the sewing lines up with the rest of his suit. the beanie goes on last.
“baby— i . . i just needed to come see you before i fight green goblin,” he mumbles, brushing hair from your face and even with the barrier between the both of you, you know he’s smiling under, “some good luck would suffice, don’t ya think?”
“it would. now, go.” you pat his cheek, pulling away reluctantly as he slings his backpack and you suddenly feel cold again. “stay safe, spider-man.”
satoru cannot wait until he’s in your arms again, so he lunges forward and pulls his mask up just to his nose to give you one last kiss and you indulge him; when your eyes open, he’s already on the ledge.
“merry christmas, baby.” you can see the familiar stunning smile and a soft confession before he’s hopping off and you’re running to it to watch him swing away with a loud, lovesick laugh that sounds a little too much like the star student, gojo satoru, but it doesn’t matter when you know you’re the only one who knows his secret.
part two
#ougghhhhhh he is my love ....#also not requests but i just wanted to write a little something#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk gojo x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jjk gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#gojou x reader#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk drabbles#jjk headcanons#satoru gojō x reader#satoru gojo#gojo satoru
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SFW Alphabet: Wolverine
a/n: yayyy I am writing a new character finally. I've been wanting to do Wolverine for a while, I just got around to doing it. Especially after D&W, I can't help myself. So like my main, I will start off with the alphabet and gradually write more into him. My characterization will be mixed based on film, show, and comic so not one specific source. I have never written this character before so the way I write him may change as I continue. This is also unedited ignore mistakes <3
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):
Logan is a fairly affectionate dude, once you get past his gruff and rugged outer layer. He will pull you close to him and let you lay on him or snuggle up close. He's very warm and makes the perfect heater since he generally likes to keep his room cold to combat his body temperature.
He enjoys cuddling, though he won't outright say it. He likes feeling you lay close and seek him out for comfort and warmth regardless of the time of day or situation. He won't ever deny you that.
He likes to ruffle your hair and he will lightly nip at you and grin when you give him a surprised look.
He's all for hugs, he likes when you hug him and try to hug as tight as you can, he's completely unfazed. Sometimes he will grab you and lift you up, and laugh when you try to do the same. His adamantium skeleton weighs him down more than you thought. He's strong as hell to be able to move so much and you realize it the moment you try that.
When you lay close he will rub your back or idly rub another part of your body. Any kind of touch he can get. His fingers are so warm, it feels especially good if you're shirtless laying on him. He really enjoys skin to skin contact.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?):
He'd be a bit of a loner, but in the end he will always come through. He's hard to initially bond with, so be prepared for him disappearing a lot, hopefully you are a patient person.
At first he might not want to bond with anyone because his life is a roller coaster of shit, but persistence might wear him down enough to let you in his friend circle.
He's the type to drink with you, have a cigar and talk about whatever. He's down for brawling, he likes to mess around in that sense.
But Logan likes his alone time too, so balancing out social and private time is important. If you push too much I think he will back off a lot. He's had a shit life and if he cares a lot about you, he might not want it to be too obvious you are important to him. A specific mutant tends to kill off his close relationships.
*cough* Sabretooth *cough*
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?):
He does, he just won't admit it. I don't see Logan as a touchy feely guy with words, his actions mean a lot more than what he says.
Logan accepts cuddling basically anytime you want, just get close and snuggle up against him.
He might invite you to do so if he notices that you want to but are too unsure to initiate it.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?):
It's shown that Logan has settled down before. So he'd do it again with the right person.
He would rather be the type to support or provide rather than be the one to cook and clean, but he will lend a hand if necessary.
Compromise is possible. He might make a huge mess in the kitchen though.
I can see him working a grill pretty well.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):
Straightforward and to the point. He'd tell you about his past and how complicated his life is, and he doesn't want you caught up in the mess of it too.
Logan might try to break things off after they get serious, worrying about what could happen to you, but if you insist, he will stay. He just doesn't want you to get hurt.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):
It would take a while before Logan would be ready for marriage. The life of an X-Man is complicated enough, and his especially is hard to handle. He wouldn't want to settle down for a long time.
But once you find that sweet spot, and have a long conversation and understand the concerns and dangers, he would be willing. You just have to be careful.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):
Logan is naturally more rough than most, but he can be gentle when he wants to be or needs to be. He has a good heart, despite what he likes to portray himself as.
He's able to caress and hold you like a man who hasn't been through the worst Hell of his life, and he's able to understand and connect with you emotionally too. He does try his best for you, even if he isn't very good at first.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?):
He does. He likes when you hug him. As mentioned before, he likes to lift you up and he chuckles as you try to lift him (and fail).
He throws you over his shoulder when he picks you up and he teases you as you try to squirm away.
A lot of the time your hugs turn into play fights.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?):
For Logan, saying that would take a long time. He'd be very reluctant to admit it or even begin a relationship in the first place so he doesn't want to endanger you by admitting he has such intense feelings for you.
When he does, he makes sure you two are alone and he whispers it to you either when you are being intimate together, or he admits it to you after something happens where he thought he lost you.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):
Logan doesn't necessarily get 'jealous' but I can see him being very possessive. He knows his partner wouldn't cheat and he is very comfortable and secure in his relationship with you, but sometimes he can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.
He will come up to you and growl at the person he feels jealous of, possessively wrapping his arm around your waist and tugging you closer to him, glaring daggers at the person.
I can totally see him unsheathing his claws and asking you how they look, he claims he 'polished them' and wants you to see, but it's just a way for him to further intimidate the person in front of you.
It always works.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):
Naturally, he's a bit messy. He likes kisses that leave you breathless, but are pretty passionate and demanding. He will kiss you until you are pulling back to breathe, and he lets you take a few breaths before diving back in for more.
He bites your lip, his tongue explores your mouth, the works. His hands are gripping onto you and holding you flush against him, his dominance fully showing when he is kissing you and you cannot complain.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?):
Logan doesn't really like being around kids, but he's surprisingly good with them. he's not mean to the kids obviously, he just prefers not to be around them. He doesn't like 'babysitting,' even though he's been forced to do so multiple times.
He has a natural instinct to protect, and he's proven time and time again that despite his attitude towards the children around the mansion, he's protected the entire mansion and the children inside with ferocity.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?):
Grumpier than normal, if that's even possible. He hates mornings. He'd much rather wake up on his own and have the time to slowly wake up fully and start his day than awake to an alarm.
He has trouble sleeping at night because of nightmares, so by the time morning comes, he's fallen asleep. He wakes up late morning to mid afternoon on a good day.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?):
Logan is more active at night due to his nightmares. He doesn't sleep well and rarely gets a good night's rest. When you came along, he asked if you could sleep in another room since he woke up swinging a lot. But gradually your presence helped and you were there for him when he woke from his nightmares.
Now, he can sleep without waking up and worrying about hurting you. Nightmares still plague him, but they're much quieter when you sleep beside him.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?):
Logan has to be open with certain things, just for your safety. You learn things with him about his past and himself, he does try to keep some of the things he's done to himself just to prevent any possible arguments from you asking too many questions. Logan doesn't like to sit and explain why he did things he had to do, especially if it's generally something considered to be bad.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?):
To a degree, he's...somewhat patient. He can snap quickly, but he is verbal about his irritation before he acts on it.
But this can also depend on the person annoying him. Some people just make him act before he can even get the words out.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):
He has a very good memory, I mean he remembers things from decades ago, so he can remember something simple like your favorite song or color.
He remembers little things. Your favorite things, how you enjoy specific scents or tastes, and all the meaningful stuff that warms your heart that he remembers.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?):
I don't think he has one specific thing he enjoys the most. I would say maybe the first time he could actually sleep without worry of hurting you and he woke up feeling pleasantly rested, because you were by his side and he didn't have any nightmares.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):
Congratulations, you have an insane attack animal on your hands.
Logan is insanely protective over you. He can't help himself. You are his, and he needs to keep you safe at all times.
It's in his nature, and sometimes he can't turn it off. He's always hovering over you, watching the people around you and making sure no one is looking at you for too long.
He's very vigilant by nature, so his head is almost constantly on a swivel despite his cool appearance.
Logan wouldn't hesitate to fuck someone up if you asked him to, or defend you at any time. He'd break someone's nose for talking bad about you.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?):
He would try as much as you liked him to, I think for him, getting you flowers or treats that you like is his default until he recognizes what means the most to you and he begins to do that.
As for planning things, he mostly leaves that for you unless you want him to plan something. He's very open to doing whatever you want, as long as you're happy.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?):
At the beginning of your relationship, he disappears a lot and his communication is shit. It makes you think that he isn't very reliable, and it causes some drifts in your relationship early on. He also doesn't explain a whole lot at first, but once you progress further he gets better at communication.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):
Logan is a very rugged man, he doesn't spend too much on his looks, but he does enough not to be considered unhygienic. Otherwise his concern for his appearance isn't very strong. Unless you had a problem with it, he wouldn't put any more effort into his looks.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):
Once you get to the bonded stage, he doesn't want to be apart from you. He cares a lot about you and once he admits to loving you, he is fully committed. Nothing could keep him from you and he'd tear a rift in the world to get to you.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.):
Play fighting is one of his love languages. He loves to play fight. He can win, every time, you know that. But he still likes to wrestle around and let you think you're winning...then he pins you down within seconds.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Anyone who would try to boss him around in an annoying way or try to change him. He doesn't want a partner who tries to change who he is. He wants to be accepted, he wants to be able to be himself. Playful bossing around is different, but if you genuinely try to make him do every single thing you say, you two will butt heads and you won't be compatible.
If you nag too much that would annoy him. He drinks, he smokes cigars, you either have to deal with it or say nothing. He will continue to do it regardless of your personal opinion about it.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?):
Logan tries to get as much sleep as he can, but he has chronic nightmares so sometimes it's very difficult for him to sleep fully during the night. Having you with him helps, and gradually as you sleep beside him, his nightmares calm enough for him to sleep through the night without waking up swinging or trying to stab the closest thing near him.
He generally sleeps late at night to late morning or early afternoon, he doesn't keep normal sleeping hours.
He likes having you by his side when he does sleep, he feels more secure with you tucked under his arms and snuggled into his chest. Your presence, your scent...everything, it helps relax him enough to fall asleep.
He always sleeps closest to the door so he can jump up and protect you if necessary.
Thanks for reading.
*SNIKT*
dividers by @/strangergraphics
#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#xmen#x men 97#x men comics#🎠my works
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Aftercare
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Soft!Bucky, cock drunk reader, after care, no smut
Your face was still mashed into the mattress beneath you. Ringlets voiding your full vision with the taste of salty sweat creeping past your huffing lips. You felt kisses placed on your hot shoulder blades and the curls being swiped from your face.
Your eyes were unfocused but centered on the lightly breezy curtains,
"Speak for me."
"Mmm." Was all you could let out. Bucky got up from the bed and crossed the hardwood to the adjacent bathroom. You could hear the sink running and the medicine cabinet open then shut again. The loud padding of his weight crossing the floor filled the otherwise virtually silent room.
He squatted to your eye level, bringing the cool towel to gently wipe the night from your brow.
Your breathing relaxed further, drinking in the sparkle in his eyes and the gentleness he has with you.
"There she is he said softly.
"Sit pretty for me, Baby. Can you do that?" You nod and slowly started to sit up and turn yourself over. Small squeaks and groans escaped your lips as the buildup in your triceps tensed up. You leaned back against the headboard, taking a deep breath. He started to bring the duvet up but you declined,
“ ‘m hot." He smiled, leaning in and placing a kiss to your forehead. Bucky grabbed the 2 Tylenol and glass of water from the night stand. He lifted the cup to your lips and placed his cold, hard index finger under your chin to guide your head with the water. You took and swallowed the medicine before resting your head back. He placed the cool towel on your forehead before standing,
"That needs to be empty before you go to sleep." he said behind him as we went back to the bathroom. He re-entered with another cloth in hand. He sat beside you and ran his hand up the length of your leg. You twitched when he reached her inner thigh and he left out an breathy laugh.
He gently separated your legs, lightly lifting it and placing himself on his stomach between them.
He leaned in and softly left open mouthed kisses to the insides of both your thighs. He closed his eyes and sighed at the smell of you; sweet left over arousal and sweat. When he opened them he was eye to eye with your sticky, wet pussy. The sight of your juices and his cum secreting from your used hole left him in a trance.
"Ohhh, Baby. You did so well for me," your heart rate started to increase just slightly, "the best girl I could ever have. So needy. So obedient. Drink your water, honey.
You brought the cup to your lips and Bucky brought the new warm cloth up from his side. He started with a single swipe. You arched your back at the sensation the courses through you. You placed the cup down, mesmerized by him.
"You made me feel so good. Did I make you feel
good?"
"Yes, Daddy," you said as you smiled down at him and ran your fingers through his hair. His grip on your left thigh tightened just a little bit, his body unwillingly notifying you that his heart skipped a beat.
He finished cleaning you up and got up from the bed. He pulled the duvet over you without asking this time. Bucky lifted the cup one last time and you happily drank the rest of it contents. He threw the towels in the hamper, grabbing a shirt from the dresser in the process. He walked back over to you and let you settle into your pjs.
He walked to his side and climbed in, immediately pulling you as close as possible. He left kisses on the back of your neck while he whispered about how he wants to spend the next day.
"I love you, YIN."
"I love you too."
seen this before? tumblr deleted my other account so i have to rebuild
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x black!reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#winter soldier#captain america#steve rogers#steve rogers smut
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Steve flops backwards, his body going limp into the musty green couch. Argyle plops down on his right with Jonathan connected to his hip.
The budding warm feeling works its way through Steve, starting from his toes flowing up to his stomach. He can faintly hear Jonathan and Argyle talking to each other over the haziness wrapping itself around his mind.
A loud crashing noise barely startles him, it was a common noise when you were around Eddie. Steve has never met a clumsier alpha.
Argyle is faintly giggling at something, before he’s leaning over to Steve, casually pulling Steve’s shirt down to hide his happy trail that was popping out. Steve doesn’t think much of it.
“So, never got to ask, and you can totally tell me to fuck off but what’s like…. What’s like your secondary gender my dude?” Argyle is casual with the question, genuine curiosity filling his eyes. “I can’t ever tell with you,” he admits.
Steve turns his head, letting it hang down a bit as he smiles dopily. Blinking as he tries to form a thought. Time must be going much slower for him as one of the other two boys answer for him. Which one he isn’t sure.
“Steve’s an Alpha.”
Steve frowns, trying to open his mouth and speak. But he was floating to high. Drifting too far in the deep end to yell that they were wrong.
His limbs, somehow end up tangled with Argyles, whose not even paying attention. Just letting Steve curl into him, barely reacting when Steve’s nose finds its way into his neck. One sniff and Steve knows Argyle is an Alpha.
He already knew that, but now it’s confirmed. For all he knew Argyle could be like him. A omega who just pretends to be an Alpha to pass by. Spraying certain deodorant on and taking scent blockers.
Maybe one day Steve will come clean. Though the more Steve thinks about it, the more he wants to be honest with the guys who helped save the world with him.
When he exits his thoughts, the three boys are all laughing about something. Carrying a conversation about something, Eddie’s eyes casually landing on him from time to time.
Argyles attention shifts back to him after a bit, teasing that he’s never met a cuddly Alpha before. There’s no hint that he knows Steve’s not an Alpha.
“I’m not an alpha,” Steve mumbles gently as he shifts his body with a yawn. Eyes closing as he doesn’t catch the reactions from the room.
He just sniffles a little bit, turns his body at an awkward angle and curls up into a ball sleepily.
“Stevie?” Eddie is over him now. His hand rubbing gently at his shoulder as Argyle and Jonathan are both leaning over the couch curiously.
“Huh?” Steve asks softly. Blinking slowly up at Eddie dumbly. Melting under the alphas touch.
Steve knew he was a cuddly stoner, he probably should have warned the boys this as he moves a bit. Thinking Eddie wants to join them on the couch. Opening a spot between him and argyle.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to hog the couch.” He mumbles out gently. His eyes starting to slowly close again before he feels the cushion next to him shift.
Eddie’s hand is now moving to rub his shoulder, “it’s fine Stevie. But what did you mean by you’re not an alpha?” He asks.
Steve breaks out into a soft giggle as he tilts his head to look at Eddie better. Noticing the way the other’s eyes were red, an unreadable expression on his face as Steve begins to feel his body slide closer and closer to the other like it had Argyle earlier.
“Means I’m not an alpha, silly.” He’s seconds away from wrapping himself around him when Argyle pops his head over Eddie’s shoulder.
Steve can’t help but boop the other’s nose with a soft giggle as Argyles face twitch’s. “Are you a beta?” Argyle asks curiously. His head moving down to lean on Eddie’s shoulder. Seeing that, made Steve miss how warm Argyle was. His body felt like it was freezing without having any body heat.
“I’m cold,” he whines gently. Moving and looking around in hopes of finding a blanket. Before he can, Eddie’s up and back before Steve even misses him. Holding a blanket in his hands as he carefully wraps it around Steve who melts at the smell.
His cheeks are a soft pink, as he moves curling up without thought. He looks up seeing Eddie’s head tilted and watching him carefully. “Eddie why aren’t you on the couch?” He whines out.
A look of shock and amusement crosses the other’s face before he’s laughing and sitting down next to Steve again. Argyle’s now moving to stand and Steve’s pinching his eyebrows. “Noooo, argyle you’re too warm to leave. You’re gonna like- suck the heat away from the couch man.” Steve complains.
He can hear the soft laughs of the other boys, but he doesn’t care. He needs them to be near him. So he doesn’t float off to far. He doesn’t want to get lost.
That’s what he mumbles out as he buries his face into Eddie’s shoulder this time.
“Don’t worry big boy, i- we’ve got you.” Eddie mumbles gently into his hair.
Steve relaxes and smiles happily as he finds the spot he’s looking for. Eddie’s smell hitting him and making him feel even higher.
“Hmm… not a beta either.” He admits sheepishly. Arms now wrapped around Eddie’s middle.
Eddie can’t help but let a soft laugh, “yeah? Are you a snuggly omega then?”
Steve lets out a hum in confirmation, sleep finally taking over him while he’s wrapped in what he thinks is Eddie’s blanket. And cuddles into Eddie.
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steve x eddie#strangerthings#steve stranger things#eddie and steve#omegaverse#I think Steve would hide his secondary gender for a bit#argyle is so chill
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suna's parents divorced when he was eight.
he doesn't remember a lot of the finer details as he's gotten older, mostly just that there used to be a lot of yelling, but he does remember the two piles of belongings that stacked up in the empty living room of his childhood home: one consisting of his father's and his own, and the other comprised of his mother's and his little sister's. their entire life, their entire family, packed up into cardboard and then divided down the middle.
the apartment he moved into with his father was always too quiet. it was in aichi, far enough away from where he spent the first decade of his life that he didn't have to be reminded of it every time he left the house, but since his father worked so much it still left him with plenty of time to think. to grieve. though maybe he didn't recognize it as that at the time. he played video games his father bought for him after school. ate convenience store bentos or whatever leftovers were set aside for him in the fridge for dinner. he put himself to bed at night. it wasn't a bad life, though maybe a bit lonely.
he was scouted to play for inarizaki when he was 14.
the lonely apartment turned into a lively dorm. he had new friends (his teammates) to play video games with. his convenience store bentos were replaced with hot meals from the meal hall. the loneliness of the apartment in aichi was a distant memory, but still lingered.
"i'm home."
rintarou drops his training bag in the genkan as he toes off his shoes, calling into the apartment to announce his return.
"welcome home!" you call back from further in the apartment, and the sound makes him smirk a little to himself.
you've been coming over to his place a lot lately, ever since he gave you his spare key. he's not upset about this in the slightest, but it doesn't mean he won't take every possible opportunity to tease you for it. he plans how he's going to make fun of you as he pads into his home towards the sound of your voice. he almost has it all planned out—his delivery on the very tip of his tongue—when he falters to a stop.
"how was your day?" you ask him without looking up from what you're doing.
and suddenly, anything rintarou may have wanted to say—joke or otherwise—is beyond him.
he watches as you set a plate of food down on the already full table just off his little kitchen. the food that covers the surface is still hot enough that steam curls up into the air above it, its preparation perfectly timed to his arrival home. his apartment is warm, and smells good, and there's music playing from your cellphone on the other side of the room that you must have been listening to while you cooked.
his chest feels tight.
you turn to look at him when he doesn't respond to your question.
"rin?" you ask again, a lilt of worry in your tone. "you okay?"
"what's all this?" he manages to ask, nodding towards the table where the meal you prepared is still waiting.
"oh, i've been craving my mom's recipe for the past few days, i just thought i'd make it for dinner," you say, tugging at your fingers nervously. your entire countenance is a bit different now, strained like you're worried you've done something wrong. "hope that's okay?" your words lift at the end like a question.
rintarou's never seen so much food on his table. can't remember the last time he even sat there to eat a meal—let alone a home cooked one. his face feels hot, and his eyes sting, and he just can't bring himself to look at you.
"yeah," he says, and if you notice how his voice is a bit croaky, you're nice enough not to tease him about it. "'course it's okay."
you smile, and you look relieved. "wash your hands then, it's getting cold."
you eat your dinner together and talk about your days. you take a shower while he cleans up the dishes. you fall asleep tangled up together on the couch with a movie playing in the background.
his home isn't quiet anymore. he isn't lonely.
and it's thanks to you.
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( 📁 ) THEY ENTERTAIN ANOTHER WOMAN FOR TOO LONG
synopsis: instead of them being jealous, this time you are because of their attention being focused on someone else 🤧
characters: zoro, luffy & sanji!
warnings: female terms used in zoro's & sanji's <3, nicknames + swearing, angst for sanji
mei's note: my previous post had an accidental angsty ending for luffy so i'll be posting a happy one soon! <3
⟶ @ahseyy request: ... And i have this idea 🤧 we had that the OP boys are jealous, sooooo obviously we need that Yn is jealous! ...
☆ "they're just friends!" usopp's words kept ringing in your mind as you stare at ZORO and his ex-girlfriend.. you and the rest of the strawhat crew had stopped sailing, planning to settle a bit on the island you came across. oh, how you deeply regret telling luffy that "this seems like a good place for us to stay in and regain our energy!" now you're stuck witnessing this situation play out, having you completely engrossed in it.
☆ usopp, having a sixth sense for drama, immediately noticed the lack of your presence as a result of you spying observing zoro and his ex.
☆ "are you done spying on your boyfriend?" he chuckles seeing your startled expression. "i'm not spying on him! i'm just-" you see her playfully slap his bicep, earning a displeased look on your face. "why is he even speaking to her for so long? it's not like they left at the best terms.." you blurt out, sighing after seeing usopp's sly smirk.
☆ you know he thinks you're an obsessively jealous person, but you can't find it in you to care because there she goes touching him again! the worst of it all is that zoro doesn't seem to be bothered by it.. your eyebrows furrow as you keep witnessing them smiling way too much, standing way too close, being way too touchy, and the worst of all; they're talking way too soft for you to eavesdrop!
"that's it, i'm going over there!" you utter annoyed, dropping the mop you were holding for the past 15 minutes, having made little to no progress at cleaning the ship's floor. usopp, taken aback, dashes to stand in front of you, blocking the exit of the ship. "are you out of your mind? don't you understand you'll be labeled as the most controlling girlfriend ever?! just- sit this confrontation out alright?" he let's out a sigh of relief, feeling he prevented a major fight to go down, not only between you and zoro, but possibly also between you and zoro's ex..
usopp was right, you know he was, but you couldn't bother thinking straight while you were still seeing that woman being handsy with your man. fuming, you gaze at the two, loathing the almost non-existent space there was between them. "i'm so done," you mutter upset. "please take over cleaning for me today, usopp.." you left to your room and plopped down on your bed, trying to put all your intrusive thoughts to rest.
but of course you couldn't after having seen that interaction between the two. were you exaggerating? was this normal? is it wrong for you to feel this way? this fuming feeling is causing you so much distress. it's like your thoughts are eating you up from the inside. you don't want to feel this way, like you're the one at fault, like you're not enough, like you'll never be enough.. right after that thought crept up out of the darkest pits of your brain, you heard a knock on your, now locked, bedroom door. "baby? you alright?.. why's the door locked-? baby?" you recognize zoro's voice immediately, mentally being stuck between picking the easy choice: ignoring him and bottling up your feelings, or the hard one: facing him and talk to him about your current thoughts..
unbeknownst to you, you unconsciously chose the former option. you open the door and look him in his eyes, hiding as much of your feelings possible. "what?" he furrows his brows, confused by your cold welcome before he remembers usopp warning him you weren't in a good mood because of his overfriendly encounter with his ex. "is this about her?" he chuckles before shaking his head slightly, in disbelief you'd be this bothered by someone from his past. "so what if it is?! is it so weird for me to be upset some woman is being all handsy with you?! and is it suprising that i got bothered even more by you not minding her touching you? is it that weird, zoro? 'cause if it is, please, do tell me!" you blurt out, almost all in one breath, before slamming the door shut.
you weren't planning on letting it out, you didn't want to bother, assuming he'd just brush it off as you exaggerating.. you didn't expect him to open the door you aggressively slammed in his face, so soon. you didn't expect him to, when he saw you leant on the wall with furrowed brows and a trembling upper lip, grab you by the waist and pull you closer to him, so close there was barely anything between you at all.. and least of all did you expect him to grab your chin, raising it so you looked him in the eyes while he told you "if i gave one shit about her, would i be here right now? tell me, if i didn't care about you at all, then why would i tell her i'm not interested in getting back together with her when she asked? why would i tell her i finally found someone that i want to spend the rest of my life with? shit, as cheesy as it sounds, it's true, baby.. i can't imagine being with anyone else except you. so please, don't you get jealous about girls i don't give a damn about."
you send him a soft smile, leaning your forehead on him. "don' know who told you i was jealous.. but you got to get better sources 'cause i for sure wasn't jealous.." zoro scoffs letting out a "yeah, right."
☆ needless to say you two made up and cuddled for the rest of the day.
☆ that would be the end.. but of course usopp had to bug you.. "hey! i took over your cleaning today, so you better take over mine for the next week.." usopp pleaded, with both his hands on his hips. "out." zoro mumbled into your neck, expecting him to comply instantly. "but-!" usopp began to bicker, before getting interrupted by zoro. "now." you accidentally let out a giggle, swiftly moving your hand to cover your mouth right after. "whatever! i will be back, considering this debt!" with that usopp leaves the room, leaving you two alone, enjoying the comfortable silence.
☆ SANJI is a womanizer, that's no shocking discovery. you've know about this fact since the moment you met him. he was charming you up while asking everyone's drinks and then he went off, flirting with another woman on his way back to the kitchen. that moment you learned that this was sanji. but there's also the caring sanji that'd make you a warm soup when you're sick, tending to your needs yet still somehow find away to make you blush whilst laughing with him. in addition to the caring sanji, there also is the determined sanji; whenever he'd speak about finding the all blue, and all the meals he would cook, all the different fish he would see, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening with adoration and resolve. further, intellectual sanji heavily plays a role in your daily life; happily helping you with mundane chores to the most exciting adventures you and your fellow strawhats go on. he fills you in on books he's read, food he's cooked, ingredients he's used, products he's bought and much more!
☆ you could go on and on, daydreaming of all sanji's positive personality traits, but you're all time favorite would have to be considerate sanji.. the way he could immediately sense from you that you weren't feeling like your usual self still amazes you. how he always chooses the right moments to bring you a freshly brewed cup of tea with your favorite desert right next to it, which you have know idea how he had the time nor ingredients for. how he treats you like a princes and tells you how much you mean to him in so many different ways when you feel absolutely miserable. and, oh, how he always knows when to embrace you tightly and whisper sweet nothings into your ear, until it becomes numb.
☆ so with all that, you accepted him being a womanizer, having the seemingly perpetuous habits of bantering with other women. you always wondered if he'd stop flirting with so many women if you asked him to.. but then the thought that you two were nothing and wouldn't be anything else than friends hit you.
☆ nevertheless, seeing his cheeky smile being sent to some random woman, seeing him subtly sling his arm around her waist as he guids her to the dance floor, seeing him lean closer to her every minute, it was killing you, no more like slowly scraping you from the inside, the bottled up pain waiting for you to finally burst open.
you've been eyeing them the whole night, not once taking your eyes off of them or bothering to answer usopp's rants with more than a 'mhm,' or a 'hmm'. "have you listened to a word i said?!" usopp voiced suddenly, turning the strawhats' complete attention to you. "mhm.." absent-minded, you nod hearing him say something, but not comprehending the words he spoke.
"see, told you she wasn't paying attention," usopp leaned back against his seat after pulling up his shoulders, indicating he was right about you not paying attention to what anyone was saying. zoro, being the one seated next to you, tapped your shoulder, earning a "hm?" from you. getting annoyed by your negligence, he shifted his gaze to the direction you were looking in, finally understanding what the issue was.
to clarify your absent-mindness, zoro nudged his head towards sanji and his date. his date, who was sat on his lap at this point, making the knot in your stomach grow substantially. seeing his arm wrap around her hips as she leaned on him was your final stroke, your last straw. it was your breaking point.. you've reached, no, you've long surpassed your limit for these shenanigans, but right now, this very moment you finally break.
you suddenly feel a rush of tears burn your eyes, overwhelmed with your thoughts and emotional distress. you jump up, hurriedly leaving the club room you were in, not wanting anyone to see you in your current state. you desperately search for a private area where you can cry yourself out of this situation without having people judge you. but you notice the whole place is packed with couples who can't keep their hands off of each other, except the balcony, so you shakingly make your way to the cold space.
all of a sudden, you hear someone's heavy breathing behind you. "darling? what's the matter? what happened?!" sanji. he asks you breathlessly, due to him running after you. you quickly tried to wipe your tears away, but they kept coming! making you feel even more hysterical. "hey, hey now -" sanji notices your crying, he turns you around, his arms moving from your arms down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "talk to me, sweetheart.. please, just talk to me.." he pleads, moving his face closer to yours.
"i- i can't- do- it!" you babbled in-between sobs. "what, darling? who did this to you?" sanji moves his hands to your cheeks, pulling your face to his, carefully. "you..! you're killing me!" he furrows his brows in confusion. once you calmed down, you slowly tore one of his hands off your face. "i can't keep seeing you with others, sanji.. it really fucking hurts! i- i just can't-" you push him away a little, "i can't keep bottling it up sanji.. i'm done.."
☆ he didn't even mean to.. he was just being friendly, he was cracking jokes, making sure she was feeling calm and at peace, he asked sanji to get her something to snack, he was being luffy..
☆ normally, you'd swoon over him whenever he'd be in this caring mood of his. but not this time, no. this time, you were close to glowing green out of envy. you shouldn't be feeling this way, you know that. you trust luffy with your everything! it just hits you in the wrong place whenever he leans towards her when she speaks. it's like you can feel your heart cramp up each time she looks up at him and smiles, receiving his usual toothy grin in return.
☆ she was lost, abandoned at sea by her very own family. at least that's the bit you picked from usopp dramatically narrating her lifestory. is it heartless that all you could think of was that you hoped, the strawhats and you would drop her off at the very next island, wish her luck with her life, and continue your journeys? knowing luffy, that's the last thing that would happen. no, it's not even on the list of things he would ever consider! your thoughts made you feel absolutely terrible. you weren't a bad person, so why were you being so uncaring towards this poor girl who had lost so much? envy. jealousy can bring out the absolute worst in people. the lowest of a person's nature gets drawn out someone. and that someone now, was you.
you tried to stay away from her, not wanting to accidentally lash out. you felt bad for her, you did, but you also how far you could go, when jealousy takes apart in decision-making. so you avoid her, and just like that, you were also avoiding luffy. because for some reason, he was always near her, always. it's like he was scared she'd run away?
luffy noticed. but he didn't know the reason you were avoiding her. he's always optimistic and cheerful, so everyone expects him to always be exactly that, except you. you were there for him, allowing him to have bad days. he didn't have to hide his feelings or emotions. it was a relief for him to find someone like you, someone he lived so dearly, who lived him back just as much. it was refreshing, calming, delightful. what happened? what did he do? was he too much? or did he do too little to show you he cares so much, that he'd give you the world if you asked for it. he'd go to the moon and back for you. he doesn't know how, but he'd find a way. and now he lost you? that can't be true. it can't. he won't accept it!
that's how you got in your current situation; his face was buried in the crook of your neck, his hands holding you tightly by your waist, mumbling something about how good you smell.
you had told him the reason you were avoiding was because of your sudden jealousy. he laughed for a good 10 minutes about how ridiculous you were to think of something like that! but in his mind, oh, how relieved he was that you weren't avoiding him because you fell out of love with him. it was because you were too in love with him..
☆ you two ended up having a picnic on deck, trying to keep usopp and chopper away from your neatly set up meals prepared by sanji (duh)
☆ luffy kept teasing you about how jealous you were and that you love him too much for your own good. acting like he wasn't on the verge of being a crying mess because he thought he lost you 🙄
☆ he kept giving you nose tip smooches while telling you you'll never lose him <3
MEI'S NOTE: so, uhm yeah sanji's part was definitely something...
... hope you enjoyed!! <3
#one piece x reader#op x you#op x reader#one piece x y/n#one piece x you#sanji x you#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#one piece sanji#sanji#sanji x y/n#black leg sanji#zoro x you#zoro x reader#one piece zoro#roronoa zoro#zoro#luffy x reader#one piece luffy#straw hat luffy#monkey d. luffy#luffy#luffy x y/n#luffy x you#fluff#angst#one piece#x reader
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