#it's so special to have them back for a moment
Note
Can you write what kinds of things JJK men would do to make readers heart race?
Exist. That's enough for me.
Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Yuta x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, kissing, phone calls, cuddles, playful slap, princess carry
A/N: Well ok, they thry exist in 2D, that's good eniugh.
Yuuji eats lunch with you every day even if he's in a hospital. It's important for him that you get that time together and he gets to talk your ear off about the things that happened that day. Will casually steal a bite of your food and comment how it tastes so much better from something that your lips have touched.
Sukuna doesn't really know what constitutes as sweet anymore with the times constantly changing. He does what he likes and hopes you'll pick up on what he's trying to do. Unfortunately that something is giving your butt a smack when you walk by and then pretending he didn't do it until you get real close and he offers a kiss or a few as apology.
Megumi puts his arm around your shoulders when you walk down the street together. He never meets your eyes when he does it but even with his head turned the other way you can see the faint traces of a blush blooming across his face. You try to do the same to him but it really doesn't have the same effect.
Gojo is a little bit silly when he wants to get your attention. He is really loud when he calls your name and practically jumps you before spinning you around, not caring who sees or thinks the sight is embarrassing. You're his girlfriend and he wants to make you laugh and smile for him, always.
Nanami calls you just to tell you that he loves you very much. Seriously that is all he does, just three simple words and then he hangs up on you, not even giving you enough time to say it back, just a brief sound of delight. This happens several times a day but always at the same time to the point when you know exactly when he'll call but his words always have an effect on you.
Geto opens his arms and waits for you to melt in them every night. Better do it fast cause he will pout and complain otherwise and make the lack of feeling your body against his everyone's problem. God, he makes it sound so much more lewd then it actually is and you bet that he knows it too, it's why he does it, all for that cute flustered face.
Toji never gets tired of kissing you but his kisses are never just the sweet and calming kind, they always carry passion and heat with them. His thumb pulls on your chin, brushing your lip for a moment before you feel his tongue lick into your mouth. Always aims to take your breath away and leave you a heaving mess of a woman in his lap.
Yuta really loves to princess carry you for seemingly no reason at all. Most people would save those kinds of things for special occasions but not him, for him every day is special if he gets to spend it with you. So he will make sure you feel special every time he takes you in his arms and kisses you.
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#yuuji x reader#sukuna x reader#megumi x reader#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#geto x reader#toji x reader#yuta x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#jjk x female reader#yuuji fluff#sukuna fluff#megumi fluff#gojo fluff#nanami fluff#geto fluff#toji fluff#yuta fluff#x female reader
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Young Love and Old Money
Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader
Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring
You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.
“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”
You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”
Max grins. “I can handle it.”
The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.
Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.
This dinner needs to go perfectly.
Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.
“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”
You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”
Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”
You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”
Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”
Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”
Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”
You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.
The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.
“Delicious,” Max compliments.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”
You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.
But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”
Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”
“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”
You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.
The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.
Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”
Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.
You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.
You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”
“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”
“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.
“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.
You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.
“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.
Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.
You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.
Oh no.
This is bad.
Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”
Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”
You sink down in your chair, wincing.
Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”
A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.
Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”
Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”
You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.
“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”
“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”
Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”
You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”
But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”
Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”
Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”
Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”
“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”
Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”
Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”
Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.
Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”
“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.
You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.
Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”
Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”
Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”
You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.
As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.
He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”
***
The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”
You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”
The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”
Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”
You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”
“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.
The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”
“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.
In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.
“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”
Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.
“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”
“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.
You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.
“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.
The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”
You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”
Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”
You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”
“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”
You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.
You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.
This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.
Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.
“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.
You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”
Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.
It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.
“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”
You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.
Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”
You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”
“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.
“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”
He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”
You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”
Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”
He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.
Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”
Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”
Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”
Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.
Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.
***
The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.
You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.
“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.
“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.
You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.
“You’re the greatest, Max!”
“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”
“We love you so much!”
You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.
As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”
Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.
“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”
You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?
Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?
Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.
Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.
Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.
“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.
You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.
“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.
Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.
“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”
He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?
Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”
You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.
“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”
Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.
“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.
Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”
Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”
Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”
Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”
You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”
He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”
Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.
“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”
Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”
You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”
Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”
He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.
For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.
Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”
The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.
By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.
As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”
He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”
You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.
“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”
His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”
You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.
***
The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.
“You ready for this, liefje?”
You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”
This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.
You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.
Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.
About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”
Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”
The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”
“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.
“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”
You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.
“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”
Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”
You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.
The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”
You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”
“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”
You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”
The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”
You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...
You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.
“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.
You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.
“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.
“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”
Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”
Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.
Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.
You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.
Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.
Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.
"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”
The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.
After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”
He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”
Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”
Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Max.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
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simon riley x fem!reader
Imagine holding Simon when he cries.
Simon Riley is an incredibly strong man, an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield. Since joining the SAS in 2001, he has created a name for himself. A military legend—seemingly more ghost-like than flesh and blood. But that is the farthest from the truth, isn’t it? Cause, at the end of the day, he is still human.
You’re his girl, the love of his life. His true love—his only love.
You are a source of comfort he somehow found in this shitty, cold world. The home he never had the privilege of experiencing; your arms have provided him with everything he was denied during boyhood.
So imagine your Simon arriving home one evening—dead silent—merely shuffling his way to where you’re seated comfortably on the living room couch. His duffle bag drops near his leather recliner before the balaclava is tossed to the side. On his face is a certain heaviness, a sadness twisted in his handsome features; his blue eyes are not as bright as they usually are.
You swallow. Did something happen during the mission?
“What is wrong, baby?” You coo, stretching your arms out wide to welcome him in.
Without another thought, Simon tucks himself into your embrace, with his head resting gently on your chest. Against your breast, he can hear your heartbeat thundering away in your chest, moving in a rhythm that matches his. He reckons he is the luckiest bastard in the world, to find a soulmate who compliments him in every aspect of life.
He lets out a small sigh, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling his throat closing up as tears begin to well up. His bottom lip trembles before he bites down on it.
“Simon,” you murmur, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “What happened, my love?”
Another tear, followed by three more. A tiny, shaky exhale. Simon remains utterly still for a moment, not saying anything, until…“It’s my father’s birthday today.” His voice is quiet, breathless, unbelievably thick with sheer sadness.
Your face falls at that. “Oh, Simon.” A sad smile pulls at your lips while you hug him closer, peppering more kisses up and down his hairline, pausing to brush back soft, blonde strands. You say nothing more as he continues to weep in your arms, entire body racking with choked-up sobs and uneven breathing.
“I loved him,” Simon rasps out, pulling his face up from your neck. Both his cheeks and nose are a cherry-red, with baby-blue eyes bloodshot and puffy, lined with fresh tears. For a moment, he wasn’t the Simon Riley you fell in love with, but the Simon Riley who was five-years-old—all scrawny, little legged and freshly bruised, hiding behind the bookcase in his parents’ bedroom.
“Loved him so bloody much.”
You don’t know what to say. What can you even say? Nothing can heal those wounds, cut so deep in his heart and soul that any slight movement reopens them. “I know you did.” You kiss his nose, minding the mess of tears and snot.
His fists slowly tighten, knuckles whitening as all the memories of his father begin to flood through him; they all carry an agonizing sensation, the kind that is too fuckin' painful to discuss aloud, yet too damn gut-wrenching to keep bottled up inside.
“Do ya…” he hiccups, clearing his throat. “Do ya think…in another life…?”
In another life. You think for a moment, carding your fingers softly through his hair. “Maybe, my love…”
Simon nods. “Maybe,” he croaks out, keeping his arms tight around you. There, on the couch, you continue to hold him, letting his torrent of tears soak your shirt; time and time again, your fingers run through his hair in some silent attempt to ease the little boy wailing inside.
“It’s okay, baby.”
You kiss his temple.
“You’re alright. Let it out, baby.”
He’ll be alright tomorrow. You know it. In the morning, he’ll be barefoot and content in the kitchen, baking his mother’s special recipe of blueberry and pineapple pancakes—a cup of milk, one egg, blueberries, pineapple, and, of course, the batter—all while waiting for your arms to circle around his chest.
But for right now, he is five years old, finally being embraced in arms so warm and loving and protective—so unbelievably perfect. The feeling incites more tears.
"Thank you, baby," he mumbles, gently kissing your collarbone; it's a kiss so rich with love, appreciation, and adoration that it stirs up butterflies in your tummy. "For everything."
For everything. Oh, you silly boy. "Simon." You smile down at him, gently caressing his cheek. "For you, my love? I'd do anything."
note: a little drabble for my "let simon riley cry 2024" campaign. thanks!
#vic writes 🧸#call of duty#cod mw#cod ghost#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley imagine#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x fem!reader#ghost x reader#ghost x fem!reader
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@jegulus-microfic | april 26: aimless | 1,276 words | trans! regulus
james does regulus' tape binding aftercare <3
James lingers in the doorway, quietly observing Regulus in their softly lit bathroom.
He's perched on the ledge of the bathtub, seemingly lost in thought, his head bowed and fingers idle and aimless where they trace the rim of it. He's shirtless, clad in only boxers and socks. His bare thighs press against the cool porcelain, causing goosebumps to rise there. Soft, late evening light leaks from the window, casting gentle shadows against his frame.
Outside, the rhythmic passing of cars punctuates the stillness, their headlights casting golden beams that dance across the wet asphalt. The nearby stoplight's red glow mingles with them, creating a surreal mix of colors on the shimmering pavement.
There's a soft rustle of movement as James enters the room behind Regulus, moving to the sink. He sifts through the contents of their vanity, hands passing over their shared face wash and the cup holding their toothbrushes to retrieve the items needed for Regulus' tape aftercare. Deft hands gather oil, washcloths, cotton swabs, and salve before placing them on the bathtub ledge. He approaches Regulus with a tenderness reserved only for moments like these, for him.
"Ready, love?" James' voice breaks the silence with a mellow murmur. He settles his weight behind him.
Regulus turns his head, giving a small nod against his own shoulder. "Yeah," he says, voice crackling from disuse.
James leans in to press a kiss between Regulus' shoulder blades. He lingers there for a moment. This close, he can see the faint dusting of freckles that mark his back. They're spattered across the skin like spray from a wave on sand. Speckles in shades of russet, sepia, and chocolate dance across his pale skin, shifting as Regulus shivers lightly. As James' lips leave his back, the muscles beneath those pretty dots tremble.
James reaches for the oil, uncaps it, and warms it between his hands. He presses both his palms to Regulus, carefully smoothing the oil over the edges of the tape. His touch follows the span of the tape from Regulus' back, under his arms, to the front of his chest. His movements are slow and practiced, designed as much to reassure as to treat. The oil glistens slightly on Regulus' skin, catching the dim light as it begins to soften the adhesive.
As they wait for the tape to loosen, a comfortable silence settles over them, punctuated only by the distant sounds of the city and their own quiet breathing. James doesn't stop his ministrations; his fingers continue to trace gentle paths along Regulus' shoulders, the back of his neck, following the delicate contours of his shoulder blades. These moments are so special to him; he wants Regulus to feel loved through his actions, to experience the same palpable surge of affection with each pass of his hands that James feels. There is so much trust that Reg offers him in these moments—it's intimate. James is the only person Regulus allows to see the most vulnerable parts of himself, and that knowledge alone makes James' heart swell with fondness and love. He has never loved someone as he does Regulus.
Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.
Sometimes, James thinks Regulus was crafted specifically for him; as if the cosmos themselves conspired to mold him to perfectly complement the contours of James' own body, his own soul. Looking back, it's almost silly to him now—he thought he knew what love was like before him. His heart was already overflowing with it for Sirius, his mum, his dad, his friends. He's always had big emotions, brimming with affection and fierce protectiveness for the people around him. He's always cared deeply and felt profoundly, but nothing could have prepared him for the depth of feeling that Regulus brought into his life.
James knows nothing, nobody else could ever make him feel like this.
He settles his hands on the edges of the tape on Regulus' left side. "Gonna take it off now, okay?"
"Yeah, okay James. Go ahead"
James pulls at the tape gently, easing it from the skin. He's careful not to pull too hard or move too fast, patient as he works. He grabs Regulus' bicep, thumb pressing into the underside, fingers curling over. "Lift your arm up, Reg," he instructs softly.
Regulus raises his arm, holding it aloft as James' hand moves back down to steady the skin being separated from the tape. He can't resist pausing to press a kiss to the underside of his bicep before continuing to peel off the tape there. When he encounters a tough spot, where the tape still clings to his skin, James reaches for more oil. He warms it between his fingers once again before lightly holding the piece back, rubbing it into the seam between Regulus' skin and the tape until it loosens enough for him to continue. He carefully removes the first piece, then works at a second, a third, before repeating the process on Regulus' right side.
There's still a faint trace of leftover adhesive where the edges of the tape once were. So, James takes a cotton swab, dips it in oil, and meticulously traces the outlines left by the pieces. He moves slowly, with deliberate delicacy, mindful of the soreness of his skin.
Once he's satisfied, James fetches the washcloth. He soaks it in warm, soapy water and carefully cleans the area, wiping away excess oil and any lingering traces of the day. Then he reaches for the salve—the last physical part of their routine, though James knows the comfort it brings goes beyond just the skin. Two of his fingers dip into the container, scooping up the soothing balm. James is so careful with him, his fingers so gentle as they spread the salve, taking extra care with the tender skin under his arms and over his ribs. He traces the rungs of them, then the dip of his chest, making sure no skin is left uncared for.
James then grabs what's technically his own shirt—a worn, soft thing that Regulus has claimed as his own, his favorite pajama top—from the ledge of the sink. He helps Regulus slip it over his head, taking advantage of every second he allows him to be so close, to take care of him.
"Feeling okay?" James asks once Regulus is settled.
He trails his hand at the hem of his shirt, slipping it underneath to rest gently on his stomach, careful not to brush the newly cared-for skin or his chest.
Regulus hums an affirmative, "mhmm." Eyes closing and head tipping back as he nods.
"I'm not just asking about your skin, love," James whispers. It's tough for Regulus sometimes, taking the tape off, sitting with his chest. It's a necessity though, for his well-being, despite the discomfort it brings. And James always does everything within his power to make it easier for him. He knows he can't fix everything, but he'd be damned if he didn't at least try to.
Regulus reaches back, his palm sliding from James' elbow to his hand beneath his shirt, their fingers intertwining at his stomach. Their faces are so close that Regulus' cheek drags against James' as he turns his head, planting a soft kiss on James' cheek. "I do, I feel okay. I promise," he murmurs, giving James a warm smile.
Leaning back into James' frame, Regulus lets his weight settle comfortably against him. "You make it easier," he breathes out, words floating into the space between them. Another kiss, "Thank you. I love you."
James holds him a moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, heart swelling just a little bit more. "I love you too."
#i wonder if the transphobes in my inbox realize that all that they accomplish is motivating me to write more trans reg sooo#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#jegulus fic#jegulus microfic#marauders#starchaser#sunseeker#marauders fanfic#james x regulus
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Could you maybe write something for lia wälti? Maybe her and reader are babysitting a friends toddler, just some domesticity and lia swooning at r interacting with the kid
CAN’T WAIT - lia wälti
"me want to help!" poppy smiled sweetly giving you those cute little eyes that made it so hard for you to say no to. "okay, you can have your own special job!" you smiled as you picked her up and sat her on the counter top, a small little cheer coming from the four year old as you tried to think of something you could give her to do to keep her little brain occupied for some time.
“look, so first we snap the end off then you’ll can open and put the peas in here” you demonstrated to poppy how to do the pea pods and she nodded as you showed her, a little smile appearing on her face as she managed to open a pod by herself.
“good job!” you smiled, holding you hand up for the little girl to high five. your girlfriend watching on as her heart warmed watching you interact with the young girl, her mind wandering for a moment about what life would be like when the two of you had your own little family, leaving her wondering if you had thought about it too.
poppy was your older brothers daughter, a confident little girl who was not scared to say or do anything. which sometimes would get the little girl in some trouble but it would always make for great stories when she was older.
you and lia had offered to look after poppy after your brother was left stuck after your mum had gotten her dates mixed up and could no longer look after poppy while your brother and his wife went for some spa retreat for their anniversary.
and if you were being honest part of you was glad your mum had gotten her date mixed up as it had meant you could spend some quality time with your niece.
you had picked the little girl up from school, surprising her as she came out the classroom running into both yours and lia's arms while talking at a hundred miles per hour at how excited she was to see the both of you.
chatting both yours and your girlfriends ears off the whole car ride back to yours and lia’s home, telling you every detail of her day from what she had for breakfast to what colour pencil she coloured her drawing in with at school.
now she was ‘helping’ make dinner and by that she was just ordering you and lia around. “can you help?” she asked as she held up a pea pod for you to open for her, you had given her the job of opening a few of them but realistically she was just getting you or lia to open them for her so she could eat the peas out of them.
“don’t forget to put the peas in here poppy!” you reminded her pointing to the blue little tub you had given poppy minutes earlier, “i won’t!” poppy sung out, as you handed her the pea pod back, and within seconds she was slotting two peas in her mouth and putting one in the little blue tub.
“think it’s a bit late for that love!” lia whispered nudging you to look inside the bowl, where there was three little peas in there as you looked to the swiss and mumbled an ‘ah’
“poppy! your not supposed to be eating them!” lia said as she caught the little girl putting another one of the peas in her mouth instead on in her little blue tub.
“me not wally, there’s some in my tub!”
“i guess we aren’t having peas tonight..” you whispered in lia’s ear as you rested your head on shoulder, while reaching to get some of the other ingredients for dinner that were on lia’s side of the kitchen, pressing a quick kiss behind her ear.
“she too cute to be mad at, so i guess it’s okay!” your girlfriend quietly said at the two of you watched for a moment as poppy used her teeth this time to bite the end of the pod, putting all three peas in her mouth, the two of you quickly laughing at the little girls antics.
“me don’t like broccoli” poppy said as she watched you pick that up first out of the ingredients you had moved to your side of the kitchen counter, as she pulled a disgusted face as she watched you chop a little bit of the stork of the broccoli.
“don’t worry kiddo, we’ll keep the greens to a minimum for you!” lia smiled, knowing that you would put them in the dinner but cut them up really fine making the chances of the little girl even noticing them very slim.
“my daddy says they look like tiny trees he doesn’t like them either” poppy said making your girlfriend giggle at the comment as you smiled shaking your head, that was what your brother used to tell you mum when she would ask him to eat his broccoli.
“well he’s not wrong”
now that dinner was out the way, you had decided on a film to watch. curtesy of poppy's choice it was settled you were watching luca. which you knew she had only picked for one reason.
“can we please skip to the silenzio bruno part?” poppy asked looking up at both you and lia as she was tucked up in between the two of you in her princess pyjamas.
“pops, we gotta watch it from the start!” lia smiled moving the loose hairs out from the front of her face as poppy mumbled a fine.
lia looked over and smiled over at you, as you moved a little closer to lia resting your head on her shoulder as she played with your hair. your breathing slowing out as you felt your body begin to relax.
by the time the film actually got to the part poppy wanted it at she had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the four year olds lips. “i’ll go and take her up” you said as lia nodded as she kissed your cheek before you moved.
lifting poppy up carefully along with her little stuffed toy that she had took attached to her all evening, and carefully retreating to the spare bedroom where you had set up made the bed for poppy - putting two pillows at either side to make sure she didn’t fall out of the bed during the night.
tucking the little girl in with her teddy and blanket before kissing the top of her head and leaving the little night light on that your brother said she slept with on when she was at home before moving towards the door as closing it a little bit.
quickly going back down the stairs to where lia was, and walking into the living room to see that the swiss had not moved a muscle as she scrolled through her phone that was in her hand.
crashing on top of the swiss with a big sigh as she groaned, luckily being able to move her phone out the way quick enough to avoid it hitting her in the face.
“who would have thought looking after a four year old would be so tiring” you mumbled into her chest as your eyes felt heavy with tiredness.
“basically a full time job, baby” lia whispered as she giggled a little as you felt the vibrations of lia’s laugh from her chest.
you sat up, straddling lia as her hands found your waist, travelling a little up the back of your hoodie tracing small circles in your lower back. “i can’t wait until that us with our own little baby” lia said, at your eyes widened and lia began to back peddle. “no- no that- i” her face full of worry, scared that she had said the wrong thing.
you cut lia off by kissing her, smiling into the kiss as you hands went to the back of her neck. the kiss was pure and full of love and reassurance, pulling away after a few minutes, pecking her lips a few more times before lingering close to lia’s face smiling big as her face was now relaxed.
“i can’t wait to start a family with you either”
#awfc imagine#arsenal wfc#arsenal women#awfc#awfc x reader#woso appreciation#woso blurbs#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso one shot#woso fanfics#woso#lia walti#lia wälti#lia walti x reader#enwoso
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Ryoko Kui Does Not Believe in Epiphanies (or: why Marcille and Mithrun's endings are great actually)
I have seen a couple of people who are upset about the way that Mithrun and Marcille's stories were resolved so I'm writing this to clear some things up. Ryoko Kui does not believe in epiphanies. An epiphany is a sudden and usually brief realization, an "aha" moment. Epiphanies are emotionally powerful moments. Both Marcille and Mithrun have powerful moments of realization, epiphanies.
Whether or not you like these resolutions, there's something you need to understand, Ryoko Kui does not put that much stock into these moments. Immediately after Marcille has her realization, Tansu responds like this:
While this is mostly his own opinion, what he is pointing out is that epiphanies are brief, they are singular moments that do not define a life. Life is long, and epiphanies do not sustain you. Marcille might feel like this now, but what about tomorrow? what about nex year? ten years, a hundred years, five hundred years from now? How often have you felt a sudden understanding? a burst of inspiration, or perhaps a realization that everything is pointless? It generally passes quickly, and you make dinner, and go to bed.
Think about the best meal you have ever had, it was probably a special occasion, maybe it felt like something magical, in the moment you might have felt like your life was changed. Then, in the morning you were hungry, so you ate breakfast. You cooked, you did the dishes, you went on with your life. What "meaning" did that meal have if you were hungry again the next day? Mithrun has to rebuild everything, every day he has to come up with new desires to do the very basics. None of it comes naturally, he has to find a reason to eat beyond being hungry, a reason to want to do anything when he doesn't want anything. Ryoko Kui tells us outright, that there is no magical solution:
The same thing applies to Ryoko Kui's representation of racism in dungeon meshi. Around when the orcs appeared in the anime I saw people gripeing about the way racism is treated. They seemed to think that Laios's party having dinner with the orcs was presented as them "solving" racism. Once again people misunderstand, they did not solve racism in a single moment. A few people, understood each other a little better, came to an arrangement and then parted. This was merely a moment in their lives. The characters continue to do micro-agressions, hold stereotypes, and have implicit biases. In dungeon meshi, characters don't suddenly stop being racist in the course of an evening. Life is a process, learning about others is a process, it's about the accumulation of experiences through the meat and potatoes of life, the daily activities that we actually fill our lives with, not the sudden realizations. Once you make learning about and living with other people into part of your routine, once it is embodied, then it is part of your life.
This is the real conclusion: life is not lived in a state of epiphany. Life is about chores, cooking, eating, shitting, working, and sleeping, it's everyday. Life is about doing simple things and doing them well. An epiphany is a useful tool for telling the reader that everything is going to be alright, we love to read epiphanies and be swept up in them. They can also be a breaking of a pattern, an escape from a spiral.
This is the other take away, it's about the people you do those things with, the way they rub off on you, the way they help you be human. For Mithrun and Marcille their paths would be impossible without other people pushing them back on the path as they stray. Mithrun literally would starve to death except for the thought that kabru and others don't want him to. Eating is a communal activity, so is living, you can have an epiphany on your own; you can't live on your own.
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𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓮𝓻
∘ desc: although things are going great with your boyfriend nanami, sometimes you think he's too nice in bed. who better to ask for some pointers than from nanami's opposite, gojo satoru <3
∘ ft: nanami & gojo
∘ word count: 2.7k
∘ includes: voyeurism, threesome, pussy slaps, spanking, face fucking, edging, dacryphilia, dirty talk
Nanami is the best boyfriend that you’ve ever had.
No matter everything that you’ve been through together in the last three years, nothing has ever made you doubt the amount of love you had for each other. You absolutely adored everything about him. After being friends for years before getting together, it wasn’t hard to fall so deeply in love with the man that he’s become. Being able to come home to him is everything that you’ve ever wanted and more.
But, of course, all relationships come with their issues.
When Nanami received a message from you saying that you had to talk, his heart immediately dropped. What could he have done wrong? Was today a special day that he forgot about? Did he accidentally leave the toilet seat up? What could possibly be it? He rushed home from work, unlocking the front door to see you sitting on the couch.
“Is everything okay?” Nanami questioned, slipping his shoes off and placing them neatly on the floor along with pinning his coat on the rack. “Your text worried me.”
“No, Kento. Everything is fine, I promise, come sit with me.” You gestured to the cushion next to yours, trying to keep him calm. You knew that texting him like that would elicit this concerned reaction, but what you’re about to say could not be said through a simple text message.
“Kento, when I say this to you, I need you to know that I love you so much and you are an amazing boyfriend okay?” Nanami nods his head slightly, eyebrows slowly coming together in complete anticipation of what’s about to come out of your mouth.
“I want you to start being rougher with me in bed.”
Finally coming out and saying it, you felt like a weight being lifted off of your chest. Nanami always treats you like glass, in and out of the bedroom. Although you love how gentle and loving he is with you, you need something more. You can’t help but think back to all of the times that he would come back home from work, irritated about something that happened. How good it would feel for him to take out those emotions on you. But, knowing your sweet boyfriend, that thought would never cross his mind.
“Am I not satisfying you enough? I thought you enjoyed our intimate moments together…” Nanami responds, his brain thinking back to every single night you’ve spent together in the past. Why hasn’t he seen this before? Knowing that he hasn’t been satisfying you in the way that he thought hurt him much more than he was willing to admit right away.
“No, that’s not it at all. You know that you always make me feel good. I just want to change things up a bit, that’s all.” You placed an encouraging hand on his thigh, prompting him to look up at you. “I know you, Kento, don’t think too much into it. I love every moment that we have together, I just want us to try something different, that’s all.”
Nanami took in all of your words, making a pact to himself that he will change things for the better. He understands what you want, he’s just not sure how to fully give that to you. How he is in bed is exactly the way he is outside of that: sweet, loving, and overall just concerned. He would never forgive himself for hurting you in any capacity, so living up to your request will be a challenge for him. Who better to ask than his complete opposite in every single way?
“She wants you, Nanami Kento, to be rough?” Gojo almost can’t help but laugh at the thought. It’s not laughable because Nanami doesn’t have a rough side to him, Gojo of all people would know how it feels to be on the opposite end of that. The funny part is that he can’t imagine him being rough towards you. Even from an outsider looking into your relationship, anyone could see how he treats you.
“I didn’t tell you this so that you could laugh at me, Satoru, I’m asking for your help.” This request from Nanami also humored Gojo. Finally, after all of these years, Nanami is actually voluntarily asking for his help.
“How exactly do you expect me to help you? Do you need me to demonstrate?” Gojo laughed as he said this, waiting for Nanami to show some sort of disagreement in his face.
That look never came.
“That is actually exactly what I want you to do. I know the type of history that you two have, I’m not an idiot. All of these years since we’ve all been friends before we started dating, I would see the way you would look at each other. I know that there is chemistry there and I wouldn’t be surprised if you have been intimate before.” Nanami looked at Gojo, seriousness etched across his face. “I want you to show me how to treat her the way that she wants to be, I only want her to be happy.” As much as Nanami hates to admit when Gojo is better than him in any sort of way, he knows the truth when it comes to this. He sees how other women have fawned over him, and it must be for good reason.
“I’ll teach you how to fuck her like a slut.”
The sight of two shirtless men is enough to excite anyone. After telling Nanami what was on your mind, this is the last thing that you expected him to do. Of course he brought this up to you before this moment, always wanting to ensure your comfort. It was hard to disagree, you’ve been with Gojo years prior but it was never anything serious. Always flings, Gojo was never the “relationship type”.
“So gorgeous, my love.” Nanami always admired how ethereal you looked, both in and out the bedroom. He caressed your face, planting soft yet firm kisses on your lips, growing more and more passionate by the second. Gojo was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room, watching with an intense gaze. You would think that having another man watching the two of you would freak you out, but it weirdly turned you on. Gently, as always, Nanami laid you down on the mattress, fingers finding their way to your covered breasts, exposing them to his hungry mouth. After moving the fabric, his lips puckered around your nipple, tongue pushing on the hardened nub as you ran your fingers through his hair.
“Kento, I need you so bad.” You whimpered, the impatient side of you coming out already. You know Nanami, you know that it doesn’t take much begging to get what you want. You know how bad he wants you too, he can’t help but fully oblige to every word you say.
“I know honey, I’m going to give it to you.” Nanami had no self control when it came to you. Gojo rolls his eyes in the corner, finally making his presence known.
“Nanami, you can’t let her talk to you like that.” Gojo slowly began to touch his growing bulge through his pants. “It’s like you already forgot everything I told you.” He stood up and walked towards the two of you, Nanami moving to the side. Gojo gently gripped your chin, turning your head to look him dead in his eyes.
“If you want something from him, you’re going to have to earn it.”
You nodded your head, his authoritative tone sending a wave of pleasure throughout your body. Following his discrete directions, you kneeled in front of your boyfriend, fingers playfully toying with the zipper in his pants as you pulled it down along with the rest of it. You kissed his hard length through the last piece of fabric still left on his body, looking up at him through your lashes.
“D-Don’t tease me like that, (y/n)”. Nanami loved this obedient side of you, even if he wasn’t the reason you were acting this way. Before he could even process, Gojo lightly tapped the side of your ass, sending a slight sting throughout your body.
“Tease him like that again and you’re gonna have to make yourself cum. Now say sorry.” Gojo threatened, backing away once again to see how this unfolds. By now, he has fully released himself from the confines of his pants, fingers wrapping around his girth as he slowly began to pleasure himself at the sight.
“I’m sorry.” You looked up at Nanami once more, pulling away the last piece of clothing separating your awaiting mouth from his leaking tip.
“I’m sorry what?” Gojo sneered.
“I’m sorry sir.” Your pleading voice made Nanami groan, watching as you finally began to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You began to put your tongue to work, swirling it around his head while keeping your lips firmly around the top, sucking in. Nanami could tell that you were still in a teasing mood, refusing to go any lower than that. Suddenly, you could feel his hand find its way to the back of your head, forcing you to let more of him in. Nanami would never do something like this normally, his forcefulness with you turning you on tremendously. Gojo laughed, approving of Nanami’s sudden confidence boost. It’s arousing to him too, watching you take all of him so deep in your mouth, gagging on his length as he throws his head back.
“That’s it, take it all.” Nanami grunts, “I love how messy you look, choking on me like that.” He could feel you moan around his length at his words, thighs rubbing together in anticipation of what’s to come. “I know how wet you are already, if you want some help you have to ask for it okay?”
No matter what, Nanami is still always keeping your needs in mind, noticing how soaked you're starting to become. He removes himself from inside your mouth, allowing you to fully breathe. You look so beautiful, tears threatening to spill from your lash line and saliva coating around your mouth. He helps you back up to your feet, leading your body to lay backwards onto the bed, callused fingers catching any tears that manage to slip. “Tell me what you want.”
Your gaze moved from his eyes over to Gojo. “I want you both. Please sir, just touch me.” You felt pathetic as you begged, your core pulsing with need. You’ve never felt this sensitive before, everything feeling that much more intense given how hungry the two men in your presence are.
“Aww, what a little slut you are.” Gojo grinned, making his way closer to you. “What do you think Nanami, has she been a good girl for us? Should we give her what she wants?” Gojo’s fingers began to rub on the outside of your panties. “Look at how wet she is for us.” Gojo showed Nanami your slick on his fingers, watching it glisten underneath the lowlight.
“I think she has been a good girl.” Nanami smiles at you, so proud of how well you’ve been doing for them. “Go ahead, Gojo, you can touch her.”
“Finally.” Gojo quickly moved your panties to the side, the coolness of his touch catching you off guard as he teased the inside of your folds. “You don’t understand how torturous it was watching you without being able to touch you yet.” He makes quick work of finding your clit, slowly rubbing his thumb on your pearl as he watches you begin to writhe underneath. “Don’t forget why you’re here slut. You wanted to be treated like this so bad and now you got it. Beg for it.”
“P-Please Satoru, please touch me. I can’t take it anymore, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, beginning to feel helpless underneath him. Gojo smirked, plunging his slender fingers inside of you unexpectedly. You felt your body arch up in surprise, a gasp leaving your mouth as pleasure began to consume your body.
“So fucking greedy.” Gojo began slowly at first, catching a rhythm. “Look at how she’s drenching my fingers.” Nanami rubs himself at the sight, growing impatient. You’re too far gone to notice, feeling your own orgasm already beginning to slowly creep up in intensity. Before you know it, you're cumming all around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Gojo quickly pulls his fingers out, not doing anything to help you ride it out. “Who told you that you could cum?” He taps his hand against your pussy repeatedly, watching you moan in a mix of pleasure and pain and you slowly come down from your high. “What a fucking whore.”
“I’m sorry sir, I couldn’t -fuck- I couldn’t help it.” You sob, looking at Nanami. You’ve never seen him look so angry. He didn’t say anything to you, only twirling his finger around, motioning for you to flip over. You quickly follow his que, not wanting to do anything to tick him off further. You can’t fully process that this is happening, your Nanami actually treating you this way.
You fucking loved it.
You felt his familiar touch rub over your ass as you got on all fours, arching your back slightly. He groaned at the sight of your wetness, glistening core almost calling out to him. He rubbed his tip against your folds, feeling your hole try to suck him in. Meanwhile, Gojo is sucking your juice off of his fingers, loving the taste of you.
“Get on with it Nanami, if she wants to be punished so badly then so be it.” Gojo made his way in front of you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your plush lips. “We told you what would happen if you didn’t listen, right? You have to be a bit smarter than that sweetheart.” The syrupy tone of his voice didn’t match his actions as he parted your lips with his head, feeling you wrap your lips against his girth. With that, Nanami finally pushed himself all the way in, moaning in unison along with you. Gojo could feel the vibrations of your moans against him.
Nanami gave you no time to adjust, pounding his entire length into you with such force that caused your mouth to hang open in shock. You felt so good, brain completely fogged over with no thoughts other than the complete monster that Nanami has become. He’s never fucked you like this, usually preferring soft thrusts over the hard pounding that he’s subjecting yourself to now. You suddenly felt a sharp slap on your ass, his large hand rubbing the sting away almost just as quickly as he placed it.
“Don’t ignore Gojo now, honey. I thought a slut like you would love to have two thick cocks filling you up this way?” Nanami questioned, picking up the pace which made it so much harder for you to focus. Gojo wasn’t having that. He placed one hand on each side of your face, holding it in place for him to thrust his hips against you. His cock filled your mouth, spit sloshing everywhere as your face got messier and messier.
“Fuck (y/n), you’re doing so fucking good for us princess.” Gojo moaned, the sounds coming from the room overwhelmed his senses. The bed creaking, you struggling to take Nanami while also pleasuring Gojo, and the sound of Nanami’s balls slapping against your ass sounded like music to his ears. Nanami couldn’t believe how hot this all was, feeling as your walls began to quiver around him.
“You’re gonna cum again baby?” Nanami asked, gripping your hips tighter as he felt himself get even closer. Gojo was already almost there, hips beginning to stutter as he watched you cry out. All you could do is whimper in response, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Nanami made it there first, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he spilled himself inside of you. Ropes of cum flooded in as he fully pressed himself against you, beads of sweat threatening to drip off his nose. Gojo soon followed, shooting his load into your mouth as you took it all.
“Such a good girl.” Gojo mused, wiping the side of your mouth when he finished. He proceeded to kiss you, tasting himself on your tongue. Nanami pulled himself out slowly, watching in delight as his seed slowly dripped out of you. You whimpered at the now empty feeling, your orgasm slowly starting to retreat.
“You’re not going to finish me off?” You angrily turned to Nanami, watching the smirk begin to creep up his face.
“Not unless you beg for it.”
© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x reader smut#nanami kento#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru
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happy gojo fluff friday i guess. gojo x f!reader. established relationship, self indulgent crafting fluff, reader is teaches the second years. | divider by cafekitsune, wc 1.4k, reading time 5 mins 17 seconds
“I used to make these all the time, remember?”
Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you in your living room, you hold up a bundle of braided twine bracelets, a rainbow of colors with assorted charms attached to them. Little plastic seashells on the blue one, flowers dotting the green one.
Satoru remembers, he still has the one you made him in your first year. It feels like a lifetime ago that six teenagers had vaguely matching mementos they wore showing their unity as a group, yourself and your fellow first years Nanami and Haibara and of course himself and his friends.
“Blue seems cliche,” you opined at the time with a raised brow, a pink cheeked seventeen year old Gojo staring back at you anxiously. His crush had bloomed by then although you pretended to be oblivious to it. “How about pink instead?”
He has never been able to tell you no so he nodded, keeping his mouth screwed shut while you worked. Pink he received, so bright it almost hurt his eyes to wear it back then. You attached a little smiley face charm right in the middle, affixing it around his wrist. He wore it every day until it began to unravel, safely kept in a small lockbox in the back of his closet.
The same box that contains most of the memories you’ve given him, the photos, the cards, the trinkets, and the ones the two of you have yet to make including that pesky engagement ring he can never seem to figure out the right time to give you.
“I might take it to school with me tomorrow just to see what the kids think.”
Two big hands make their way to your bent thighs and you smile, still digging through the box in your lap. Beads, closures, all the stuff you used to pride yourself on keeping tidy and neat. You glance up at him, that same smile on your face.
“Let me make you a new one since I have all this stuff out.”
You dig through the box for a minute more, squinting and making a show of exaggeratedly humming. Leaning in toward him, you hold colored embroidery floss up to his face to compare it to the shades of his eyes, the unforgettable feature that they are. One bundle of floss is too green, the other is too yellow.
“What do you think the kids will say?” He asks, watching each of your movements raptly. Your tongue pokes out of the corner of your mouth when you concentrate, an adorable habit you’ve maintained in all of the years he’s known you, and you sit back on your haunches for a moment, hands on your thighs.
Yet another adorable habit.
He reaches to grab your arm, gently rubbing his thumb along the inside of it. You smile at the touch and ponder what your students will truly think if you bring this to them. It’s a bit of a dated hobby compared to the luxury of choice teenagers have now and you laugh to yourself, shaking your head.
“Well, Maki will probably say you’re rubbing off on me since I don’t bother to teach anymore and call it stupid to my face.” Satoru chuckles, watching through his lashes while you spring back into action, reaching behind you to grab a few more bundles of blue. “Inumaki will probably spell something inappropriate in English if I bring the letter beads. Panda will ask me to make each of them a matching bracelet because he’s sweet and will request that I make one for Yuuta to have when he gets back, too.”
Looking at the latest bounty recovered from the little tackle box that stores the trinkets required for this, you gasp. Cerulean with a deep blue sparkle woven through the strands.
I’ll save this for something special some day, you told yourself more than a decade ago, spending your student stipend in some fancy embroidery shop in Nippori. Yen exchanged for fancy thread, dotted with glitter or metallic coating. You had no idea. Maybe you even bought it back then hoping a day where you’d be able to compare it to Satoru’s eyes would arrive, subconsciously laying the tracks for your own future.
“It’s a perfect match.”
The grin on your face is mirrored by your love who reaches around your body to grab from the twine selection himself. A handful of colors that match your eyes sit across his large palm and he glances down at the collection, mimicking your previous attempts to find something that screamed “him”.
“What are you doing?” The question is a half joke but you let him hum to himself, raising one bundle and then another to compare them. “Well, I didn’t make you one back then because I thought I was too cool,” he blinks at you, making you giggle. “I was right, of course, but there’s no time like the present, right?”
Nodding your agreement, you remove the paper from around the twine and shake it out. You’ll need some coordinating colors so you dig back through the bundles in front of you, sticking them against his face again.
“I still have the one you made me, by the way.”
Scoffing, you roll your eyes and use your index finger to poke around in the bead compartment, searching for the perfect one for your newest creation.
“Don’t lie, I can always tell.” Satoru grabs your hand delicately although your fingers are still holding various crafting supplies and raises it to his lips, gently kissing your wrist. You are very attentive to the little things about him and likely noticed when he finally stopped wearing it, several years after it was first made. “I’m not lying. I had to stop wearing it because it was unweaving and I didn’t want to lose it forever.”
You feel guilty for the accusation and lean in toward him, kissing the tip of his nose, claiming your hand back from his grasp to begin braiding twine together into a pattern.
“I can always re-make it if you’d rather have a pink one,” you offer, braiding together various shades of blue in your lap without looking down. “I can wear this one.”
Smiling softly, he looks at you, then the bundle of your eye colored twine in his own hand.
“You wear the blue one and I’ll make one that matches you to wear myself, how about that?”
Nodding, you let the conversation fall quiet while he unbundles his own selections, fingers deftly separating and joining three strands, just the way you tried to teach him years ago when you assumed he didn’t care. He has always paid far more attention to you than you’ve realized and you’ve given him a lot to study over the last ten or so years.
“I think you should leave this at home,” he admits. It’s selfish but he doesn’t want to see you share this precious memory with your students who may not even appreciate it. He wants to sit cross legged on the living floor with you, making little friendship bracelets that will eventually unravel or fade or snap, for the rest of his life. He wants to make them for your children someday, matching bracelets with mom and dad. He wants to keep this, to keep you, all to himself.
“Okay. It’s probably for the best anyway, I don’t need to give them one more thing to give me shit about.”
Satoru leans toward you and kisses your forehead right as you’re finishing the blue bracelet. He looks down, tying and knotting it around your wrist, remembering when you did the same for him so long ago.
“Looks good.” His words catch your eye and you smile up at him, looking between his eyes and the bracelet wrapped around your wrist. It is an uncanny match and you’re proud of your own eye for color though your pride is stopped in its tracks when he sticks out his wrist, bracelet pinched between two of his fingers and dangling from his hand. “Would you mind?”
You do as he did for you, as you’ve done for him before, with softness in your eyes it would be impossible to hide.
“Not bad,” you compliment and he shrugs with a chuckle. “Obviously. I even think mine is the better of the two.”
Letting your hand rest in his lap, next to his, the hastily made bracelets sit one next to the other on each of your bodies. His eyes follow yours and he weaves your fingers together, thumb gently rubbing the thickest part of your palm.
It’ll always be the two of you, a perfectly matched set, no matter what.
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Office Sleepover 2 - A.H
a/n: had sm fun writing this one yall
im so down bad for him ugh
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
part one here!
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader flashes hotch AGAIN, drinking on government property lmao, drunk reader, suggestive comments
wc: 3.2k
You were restless, to put it simply. Every conceivable activity within the BAU had been exhausted, and you had explored every nock and cranny of the office, leaving no corner untouched. At this point they should start paying you for tour guides because you'd be an expert.
You were bored, frankly, and lonely--the team had been on a case all week and you were stuck here. How Garcia managed was beyond you--the walls seemed to close in on you as stir craziness took hold. You kept busy with work, offering as much help as possible while staying put, but it really wasn't the same.
You missed the team, and a particular member's absence you felt just a tad more, though you wouldn't admit it. Thankfully, they were supposed to be back any second now. While Penelope had a special place in your heart, the thought of sitting through another round of her and Kevin's awkward flirting was almost too much to bear. Without Hotch to keep it in check, it was all the more excruciating.
"Bye, Kevin," you chimed in unison, your voices intertwining just as the door clicked shut behind him.
Once you were sure he wasn't coming back, you shot Pen a knowing glance, arching an eyebrow as you pointed one of her fuzzy pens at her.
"Ease up on the death stare, will ya?" Penelope chided, as she wheeled her chair back to her computers, her finger twirling towards you. "You get so broody when the boss man's gone."
You lobbed the pen in Penelope's direction. "No," you replied with a huff. "I get broody when the whole team leaves me behind."
"Gasp," Penelope declared, placing a hand over her heart. "Can you believe it? They're genuinely concerned for your well-being. The audacity!"
"Okay, but seriously, what's the bigger priority here--my life or my sanity? Because it's a fine line," you said with a shrug, pushing your chair back dramatically.
But, before the chair could gain any momentum, you found yourself abruptly against the wall, your head cushioned by an unexpected softness. Without a moment to comprehend, your chair was spun, your eyes growing impossibly wide as Hotch's belt appeared abruptly in your line of sight. You raised your eyes to meet his.
"Your life, I would wager," he said evenly, "but then again, I might be a little biased."
You sprang to your feet, too quickly, your foot catching, sending you lurching forward. Almost instantly, Hotch's hand was securing around your arm, preventing you from landing straight on your face.
"Oh, Hotch, sir, hi," you said, flustered and slightly disoriented. "I didn't realize you guys were back."
"We just got back," he said, his hand falling away from your arm, and you hated yourself for how you felt a subtle coolness that replaced the comforting heat of his touch. "Do you have those reports I asked for?"
"Oh, absolutely, they're ready at my desk," you assure. "I'll bring them to your office in a sec."
As he nods and exits, your scoop up your belongings from Penelope's desk, raising a finger. "Don't even say it, Pen."
You ignored the way she cackled as you left, moving to your desk to grab the needed papers. You attention was captured by Spencer and Emily standing by her desk. Without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around them both, pressing them against you.
"Ugh, I missed you guys so much."
They both laugh, their hands taking you in quickly as you lean against them.
Emily grins, ruffling your hair as she nudges you. "A week away and you're this clingy? We'll have the start weaning you off us, huh?"
"Don't tease," Spencer starts, his hand resting on your shoulder, "But out of curiosity, how many times did you check our desks while we were gone?"
"Too many times to count," you admit begrudgingly, a sheepish grin on your face. As you glance up, your eyes catch Hotch's through the glass pane. "Oops, almost forgot why I came down here."
Approaching Hotch's office, you tap on the door frame and enter. "Here ya go, sir." you offer, extending the documents toward him.
Your fingers lightly touch as he takes the papers, and for a moment, you're rooted to the spot, the brief contact sparking a surge of disarray in your senses. God, it's almost beyond belief that one man could have this kind of effect on you.
Hotch nods his acknowledgement. "Thanks," he murmurs. As you pivot to leave, he adds, "Could you sit down for a moment?"
You cast a teasing look over your shoulder. "I hope I'm not in trouble," you say. His expression doesn't change. "Wait, am I? Because that would definitely be enough to push me over the edge, sir."
"No, you're not in trouble," Hotch assures you. "I've received updates concerning your case."
You lowered yourself into the chair, hands perched in your lap, your eyes wide as you met his gaze. "Please tell me it's good news because I'm starting to forget what my own bed feels like."
"You've been here just over a week," Hotch states, matter-of-fact.
You blow out a breath, arms crossed over your chest. "Hotch, it's scary at night."
He clears his throat, "Anyway, it's good news. We've got a lead on the hitman, though it's not the all-clear you're wanting."
"Well, that's something at least," you concede with a nod. "But I don't get why I can't be involved in this investigation."
As Hotch opens his mouth, you jump in, deepening your voice to copy his. "Because you're too close to it."
He regards you steadily, clearly not amused.
"Yup, okay, I'm done, sorry, I'm leaving now," you relent, getting to your feet quickly and striding towards the door, but a hand beats you to it, closing it abruptly and effectively barricading you in.
With a quick turn, you ended up flush against the door, Hotch's hand resting against the wood just above your ear. You felt like you were short-circuiting, your eyes growing wide as they met his. He says your name, but it doesn't quite register--too engrossed in the heady scent of his cologne, the pressing warmth of his body, the nearness of his chest, so close that an inch's movement could mean a soft kiss to his neck. Not like that would be totally��inappropriate or anything.
"What?"
"I said, I'm worried about you."
You wanted to kiss him, man, you really wanted to kiss him. You bit the inside of your cheek to refrain from doing so.
"Why?"
It was barely audible, more air than sound, not daring to disturb the space too much, afraid of him suddenly becoming aware of just how close he was.
"You're very quick to make light of things, to make jokes, but I'm asking you to be real with me here. What are you feeling?"
His hand left the door, settling on your shoulder, his thumb hovering just shy of the hollow of your neck. Unconsciously, you found yourself leaning into the gentle pressure.
"That sounded sarcastic, Hotch," you noted, your tongue briefly sweeping across your lips, which seemed to dry out as you talked. "You're not implying my jokes need work, are you?"
His lack of response and narrowing eyes made you cave.
"Okay, fine, Hotch. You want the truth? I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That I have nightmares every night? That I can't sleep?"
Your breaths came faster, teeth meshing tightly as you stared up at your boss. His hand found your cheek, his thumb sketching a path across your skin that ignited a trail of goosebumps over your whole body, making you hyper-aware of your every pore.
"What can I do to help?"
Stay with you, kiss you, fuck you--numerous thoughts ran raced through your thoughts, but none of them seemed wholly appropriate.
"N-Nothing, Hotch, really, I'm okay. It's not something that can be fixed, which is why I didn't say anything. Plus, everyone on this team has been through worse. I can handle it. I'm tougher than I look."
"I know you are, but I—," his words were cut short, a sudden knock at the door silencing him mid-sentence.
His hands fell away from you, but the sensation lingered, the heat of his touch seeming to brand you, marking where he had been. You ran a hand through your hair in an attempt regain some form of composure, just as he opened the door to reveal JJ.
Her eyes darted between the two of you, finally focusing on Hotch. "Sorry, guys, I have that footage from the press conference--is that what you needed?"
"Yes, right." Hotch nodded, pulling the door open further for her, then returning his attention to you, observing your flushed cheeks and uneven breath. "We'll continue this later, okay?"
"Yeah," you exhaled sharply before ducking out of the room.
You need to get a grip, or maybe a Xanax, probably both.
Once the office had emptied, leaving you alone, you sat pitifully on your bed. It was Friday, but there was not much cause for celebration when you were stuck here, surrounded by stale office air. You sprawled out on the mattress, tracing the patterns of the popcorn ceiling overhead. If someone didn't figure out this hitman situation, you were going to take him out yourself.
Not really, that would definitely be a death wish. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of muffled shuffling outside your door. Sitting up, you slid into your slippers and stepped out into the hallway.
"There she is!"
You snickered as Penelope extended her arms with jazz hands, while JJ and Emily lifted their arms to show off their wine stash. Gratefully grabbing a glass from Emily, you pulled them all into a group hug. "I can't help but feel like we're about to be the subject of a very specific memo from HR after this."
Giggles from JJ accompanied the wine pouring as you stepped back. "Hotch is surprisingly on board we this—encouraged it even. Can you believe it?"
Warmth dusted over your cheeks at the thought. You wanted to kiss him even more, if that was even possible.
"Trust me," Penelope insisted, shaking her head as she paused for a drink. "I wouldn't dare cross HR again. Once was more than enough."
You wanted to say you were a classy gal, confident in your ability to drink responsibly--it was only wine, after all, not Everclear. But as the night went on, your voice rose a decibel too high, your balance a bit unreliable, and your displays of affection way too unrestrained.
You were already a touchy person, ask any of your team members, but with a few drinks, you're giving high school sweethearts a run for their money in the PDA department.
Your arms were flung around JJ's neck, peppering her cheek with kisses as you sang along to whatever music Pen was playing in between smooches. JJ was laughing, tilting backward on her heels, nearly knocking you both over.
"I love you guys. So so much." you said, each word stretched and muddled as you reached out to Penelope, who happily linked her fingers with yours.
"You are so drunk!" Emily accused, her palms squishing your face as she chuckled.
"'M not," you protested, words stifled by compressed cheeks.
She freed your face to grab more wine, Penelope not far behind, as you situated yourself on your desk chair.
"You know who I also love?" you questioned to no one in particular as you slid your phone out of your back pocket. "Morgan, Reid, Dave, and--,"
You paused, your nose crinkling as you bit down hard on your tongue.
"And?" Penelope pressed, brows raised as she looked at you expectedly.
"Hmm?" You hummed innocently, blowing a kiss her way as you shrugged off her question. "I'm gonna call Morgan."
Your eyes darted down to your phone, only to find the room swirling like a carousel. It took a heartbeat to register--someone's voice was already coming from the speaker.
"Hello? Morgan? How'd you know I was going to call you?"
"It's Hotch."
Your eyes grew comically large, a hand flying over your mouth, smothering the laughter that threatened to fall. "Hotch! It is so late! Why are you calling me?"
You shushed the group with a finger to your lips, the girls' curious eyes on you as JJ practically crawled towards you to eavesdrop.
"You called me." He paused. "Are you okay?"
"Hotch," his name was more of a whine than anything as you tossed your head back. "I'm fine, like, the definition of A-Okay. I'm with my friends and we're all kinds of okay."
You shot Emily a thumbs up.
"Good. Okay." Another pause. "Maybe drink some water, yeah? No more wine."
You gasped. "Agent Hotchner, I am a federal agent of the government. I know when I should be cut off."
"Oh, my god, get her off the phone."
You don't know who said it, but it sent you spiraling into another round of giggles, the phone slipping through your fingers while JJ pounced on it.
"Hey!"
She held up a hand, keeping the device just out of reach.
"Yeah, she's pretty drunk." JJ said, then frowned. "Hotch, listen she's more of a lightweight than we realized." You slumped against the chair. "Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir."
JJ ended the call and placed it back into your hands. "I cannot wait until you remember this in the morning," she sang, before casting a glance to the others. "Also, a heads-up--Will's almost here."
"No!" It came out louder than intended, almost a shout, as you stood, sending Spencer's pens tumbling. "Whoopsie." You latched onto Penelope, murmuring, "Stay here, don't leave me."
Penelope's laughter rang out, her hands cradling your head. "Worry not, I've set the security guy straight--if you get even a scratch, I'll make him regret the day he was born."
"See, this is why you're my favorite," you whispered.
"Heard that."
Will eventually texted JJ, letting her know he had arrived. As the they waited by the elevator, the doors slid open to reveal Hotch standing there. A squeal escaped you, matched by his single raised eyebrow surveying your condition.
Your cheeks were painted a rosy tint, hair in a delightful tangle, and your shirt hanging askew off your shoulder--you were an adorable spectacle of disorder, and he found himself suppressing the small smile that threatened to reveal his amusement as the other girls filed into the elevator.
He had made them promise not to leave until he got there, not keen on the idea of you being left alone like this. It might have been an exaggeration, but when you butt dialed him and he heard the sound of your slurred speech it had him envisioning all sorts of worst-case scenarios. Sure, he had seen you drink during team nights out, but nothing like this.
"Hotch!" You shouted, moving to him with a rapidity that might be, well definitely, was ill-advised.
He stood motionless as you looped your arms around his neck. You smelled so nice--a sweet hint of vanilla instead of the anticipated alcohol. After a brief hesitation, his hands slowly found their way to your waist.
"What are you doing here, silly?" You ask, pulling back just enough to see his face. "Wait a second, please don't say we have a case."
A subtle smile played on his face, his hand not budging from your back. "No, there's no case."
"Oh, good," you murmured, your head bobbing lightly in approval. The light touch of your fingers at the base of his neck spread a warmth through him. "You want a drink? I think there's still some wine left."
"No, I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat and taking a step back. "I think you need to get to bed."
Your hands lingered at his neck, softly exploring his hair as you looked up with a smile that made his pulse race unexpectedly.
"Is that an order as my boss or a suggestion as my friend?"
He raised his brow. "Both?"
"Well, okay," you shrugged as you took a step back. "Wanna see my room? I don't think you've seen it yet. Everyone else has."
Without giving him a chance to object, you dashed down the hallway. He trailed behind with reluctance, knowing just how dangerous this could be for him. He was all too aware that he shouldn't be here, let alone in your room in your current, wine-fueled state.
You fumbled for the light, fingers slipping before finding the switch as you stumbled into the cramped room. It was pink. Very pink. The pullout couch was lost beneath a mountain of pillows, excessive by any standard. Your closet was bursting, and a collection of gadgets and gizmos had overtaken the room, but he liked it, a lot.
Your collapse onto the bed sent pillows scattering to the floor, his mind wandered about the unseen details of your bedroom at home, and even more so, the thought of what a shared space between you two might look like.
A sigh escaped him as he stood over you. "How about changing into your pajamas first, hm?"
"No thank you."
"You're going to hate yourself if you wake up in jeans tomorrow."
"Fine." You pouted, propping yourself up on your elbows. "Top right drawer please."
He shot you a look but obliged anyway. There was something about that puckered out bottom lip that made him think he'd do just about anything you asked, like he was putty in your hands. Pulling out the most conservative pair of pajamas from the sparse selection, he made a mental note to ask about that later.
"Thank you," you said with a smile. He really liked your smile. "You know, you're really such a nice person, Hotch. Or—Can I call you Aaron? Just tonight?"
He felt a sudden emptiness in his chest as the air was knocked out. "You can call me Aaron. Just tonight."
A high-pitched squeal escaped you as you began shedding your clothes. He offered a stifled cough, quickly averting his gaze and nudging the door closed with his free hand.
"Well, Aaron," you said plainly, "I really like you."
The effort it took for him not to pivot on his heel was immense, particularly when your voice sweetened like honey at the mention of his name.
"You're a great boss."
"I like you too, Agent."
"No, you don't, well, I mean—you can turn around now," you said. "You like me, but I really like you. It's not the same."
As he turned to face you, he could sense his cock twitching in his pants, a physical reaction to the sight of you fumbling with your shirt, your tits exposed in full view, as if begging to be touched.
"Christ," he hissed, gripping the ends of your shirt and yanking down. He was sure you were going to hate yourself in the morning. "You're not making sense, and I think you need to sleep it off."
"Yeah," you replied, your eyes warmly meeting his as you gave him a lopsided smile. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in such casual clothes, Aaron. You look very handsome."
He needed to get you to bed before he did something he'd regret. He softly nudged your shoulders backward, offering no verbal response. You surrendered to the motion with complaint, your remaining strength insufficient for anything else.
Softly, he settled to blankets around you, taking a moment to study you, with the intention of memorizing you completely (even the part of you that was far too drunk).
"Goodnight, Aaron."
He summoned all his restraint to keep from crashing his lips into yours. He smoothed back your hair, allowing himself that as he shot you a tired smile. "Goodnight."
He hadn't even touched the doorknob when your plea reached his ears. "Aaron, I—, will you stay with me?"
And who was he to deny you anything?
taglist: @chronicallybubbly
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner fanfic#hotchner#ssa hotchner#aaron hotchner x fem!reader#Spotify
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Under The Stars ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader
｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡
♡︎cw:unprotected sex, tent sex, semi-public sex, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, pussy job, cum swallowing
♡︎word count: 3.9k
♡︎synopsis: What happens when you share a tent with your crush? The story starts where the memory Precious Bonfire ends.
♡︎a/n: I wrote this during my ovulation week. Also, I went over this once, so if you see any mistakes, no you don't.
♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this!
banner by @cafekitsune
Xavier looks up from the game card “Ah, I figured out what I want my payment to be.” He smiles softly at you and hands you the card, “Tell me when you’re overwhelmed next time.”
A little confused, you absent-mindedly take the card that’s not even yours. “That doesn’t sound like a payment.”
“Well, it is.”
“No, it’s not. Think of something else!” You say with playfulness in your voice. Of course you don’t mind accepting to “pay him off” in this way, but he’s been so helpful and resourceful today, that you’d feel bad for asking for more assistance.
He just shakes his head and stands up from his seat in the camping van, and walks away. End of discussion, I guess.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
You spent a few minutes sitting alone in the van, decompressing, but also thinking of ways to return the favor. Seriously, what’s a good way to show him your gratitude? You know he’s not doing this because he expects something in return. Xavier is a genuine and sweet soul, someone who is reliable (except in the kitchen) with a soothing presence. He never seems overwhelmed, even when he lights his oven on fire.
You sigh wistfully. You were hoping he was going to say “Let’s go on a date!” or “Can I sleep in your tent?” or maybe “You know, the front of my pants is feeling a little tight, could you lend me a hand –“ you blush, hiding your face in your hands. If only.
You glance at your phone to look at the time. You decide you’ve spent enough time away from everyone, letting your mind wander – how big is it? – okay, you really need to focus and go back to your colleagues.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
The rest of the evening went uneventful – you hung out with your friends, cleaned up the mess and then took a relaxing shower. Somewhere between cleaning up and the shower, you swiped a pack of chocolate covered strawberries from the mafia game winner. You wanted those strawberries the moment your eyes landed on them in that pile of snacks. And you’ll buy them later and give them back, so technically you’re borrowing them!
Besides, you want to give them to Xavier as a small thank you. He deserves more than this, but it will do for now.
Anyway, after the refreshing shower, you’re looking around the campsite. Most of your colleagues are cozying up in their tents, only a few still talking and drinking outside. Where’s Xavier?
You saw him earlier hanging out with others, but now… your eyes land on his figure, lounging by a tree away from all the tents.
You approach him. “There’s no way I’m letting you sleep outside.”
Xavier, not opening his eyes, says “I have no problem sleeping outside.”
“Well, as the captain of this group, I very much do.” You extend your arm towards him “C’mon, you can sleep in my tent.”
He opens his eyes as he hears the offer. “Are you – “
You grab his hand, “Yes, the tent is big enough for the two of us.” You suddenly remember that you only brought one blanket, but this summer night is nice and breezy so it shouldn’t be an issue.
Hesitant at first, Xavier nods and gets up while holding your hand. He moves his backpack to your tent and goes to take a shower, giving you time to change into pajama shorts and tank top; not really appropriate in this situation, but who cares!
As you spread out the blanket over the sleeping mat and two pillows, (yes, two, the other one was meant for your knees), you sit there waiting for him and then you realize – wow, it’s kinda fucking cold in here!
You were so focused on being a good captain and taking care of everyone that it completely slipped your mind that you should pack warmer pajamas and maybe a sleeping bag; it doesn’t matter that it’s summer, nights are always colder in the woods.
As you wonder if the blanket will be warm enough, from the corner of your eye you notice Xavier approaching the tent. He’s wearing a loose white t-shirt and gray cotton shorts. You move a little to make room for him, and when he crouches to step inside, your eyes are glued to his muscular legs. The staring makes you miss the way Xavier’s eyes take in your figure, the smooth skin of your thighs and your pebbled nipples poking underneath your top.
You quickly shift your gaze to his face; he’s looking around the tent. Suddenly you’re nervous. It hits you that you’ll be sleeping next to Xavier in this small ass tent. You feel an awkward tension, so you say “I hope this is enough room for you! I don’t have one more blanket but I do have an extra pillow!”
Xavier chuckles, and gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s good enough for me. I just hope you’re comfortable with this.”
“Of course I am!” You say very convincingly. As you nervously shift, your thigh grazes the box of strawberries. Right, I almost forgot! You take them and offer the box to him. “Here, a small token of my gratitude.”
He eyes the fruit, not taking them immediately. “Where did you get those?”
“The winner gave them to me.”
“Really?”
“I stole them.” You say with a shy smile. Some things are just impossible to hide from him.
He chuckles, “I’ll take them, but only if you have some as well.”
You agree and he opens the box, placing it between you two.
You’re the first one to try them, and you’re so pleased that your little crime paid off. And by Xavier’s little mm! you know that he enjoys the sweetness of chocolate and the strawberries as well. You sit there for a while, eating and chatting about whatever; mostly about the books he’s been reading and the new game both of you started playing.
You don’t feel that tired anymore. It’s probably the shower that washed away all the fatigue of the day. And the adrenaline from talking, not only talking but sharing a tent and then later sleeping next to your crush. You’re actually so excited you could run laps around the campsite, but at the same time so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself.
After you take another bite of the fruit, you notice that Xavier’s eyes are lingering on your lips? No, your cheek?
His hand slowly goes towards your face, and you stand still, unsure of what he wants. His ring finger gently wipes the corner of your mouth.
He smiles, “You had some chocolate there.”
When he’s about to lick his finger, you joke “Hey! You’re taking my chocolate!”
He stops for a second, looks at the finger, then at you. “You’re right. Do you want it back?” He asks with that teasing glint in his eyes as he holds the digit in front of your lips.
You’re stunned for a moment, trying to read the situation. Does he really want you to lick it off?
Okay, you can play along; with your eyes on his, you start to lick the chocolate. Xavier’s eyes widen for a split second, his lips slightly part as he watches you lick and suck his finger clean. It made his shorts tighter, and he hopes that you don’t notice the outline of his erection on his gray shorts.
And you’re so frustrated at yourself because of how wet this little interaction made you.
When you’re done, with a light blush on his cheeks, he pulls back his hand and clears his throat. “You’re really good at this.”
You only sheepishly smile and continue the conversation like nothing happened.
୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 ⋅ ☆
“You didn’t bring a sleeping bag?” Xavier asks as you as you both get ready to sleep. It’s gotten late, it’s dead silent as everyone around you is sleeping or trying to fall asleep. You’re surprised that Xavier managed to stay awake this long.
You admit that you forgot the fact that it’s colder at night here than back in the city. “But the blanket should be big enough for both of us.” You offer to go ask someone for one more blanket, but he refuses and says that he’s worried about you being cold.
His eyes scan over your barely covered body “I can borrow you my hoodie. But it smells like campfire.”
“I’m gonna to be fine. Let’s just go to sleep.” You reassure him (and yourself). With that, both of you lie down, your backs turned, and cover yourself with a blanket that is not enough for two people.
Xavier lets you take most of it, but tries to not make it obvious, so he holds onto it, only his back covered.
Ten, fifteen, maybe twenty minutes pass, you don’t know. You just can’t fall asleep. Not only because your ass is freezing, but because he is lying right next to you. And judging by his deep breathing, he’s asleep. Of course he is. You turn on your back and stare at the stars peeking through the mesh screen of the tent. You don’t want to move around too much or step outside because you don’t want to wake him. He’s had an exhausting day too.
You turn on your side, facing his back. You can’t see much in the dark tent, the only light source being the moon and the stars, and faint fairy lights outside. But it’s visible enough to admire his light fluffy hair and how wide his back is. You crave to trace your fingers over his shirt, through his hair… you completely took over the blanket!
You cover his figure, but then you’re a little exposed. With a sigh, you move closer to him as quietly as possible. Now, time to turn around in the same manner. But, Xavier is already switching to his other side, turning to you, and you’re so close, almost nose to nose and he opens his eyes.
You’re holding in your breath, freezing in place. “Sorry.” You whisper. “I just wanted to cover you.”
His sleepy eyes stare at yours, then at your lips. It takes him a second to register your words. “You’re still awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you cold?”
You take second before answering “Maybe.”
“Turn around.”
You do as you’re told expecting him to roll you into the blanket like a burrito and then you’d feel really bad. Those thoughts evaporate when you feel his warm arm slip around your waist, pulling your back against his strong, yet soft, chest, while his lower body keeps a respectful distance.
His breath tickles the skin of your neck, making you shiver. “Is this okay?”
You only muster a squeaky ‘mhm’, and then he falls silent again, with his face nuzzled against your neck. You close your eyes, and try to count sheep.
One sheep…two sheep… your arm gets uncomfortable so you place it over his that’s resting on your waist, the contact making his hand search your hand, entangling his fingers with yours, and then pulling you in a tighter embrace.
Exhaling a shuttering breath, you continue… three sheep… you’ve been keeping your legs pin straight this whole time and they’re starting to feel stiff and sore. But if you bend them, they’ll be exposed to cold air, but if you curl up you’ll be pressing your butt against Xavier’s crotch, or at least lower belly.
Four sheep…
The gentle whisper of your name against your ear makes you yelp. You thought he fell asleep.
Xavier repeats your name, and you can hear the smirk on his lips “Position yourself however you please. I want you to be comfortable.”
You exhale a breath you’ve been holding. “Okay.”
You move into the fetus position, making yourself as comfortable as possible, warm in his embrace, your bottom keeping an awkward distance from his lower half. You bite your bottom lip and try to regulate your breathing. He can probably feel how fast your heart is beating. You think how it’s unfair that he can feel how flustered you are.
You feel his slow heartbeat, but you can’t see his feverish red cheeks.
“Is it better now?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s just that...” It’s just that your legs and buttocks are still cold.
When you don’t finish your sentence, he nudges your neck with his nose. “Your legs are cold.”
The hand on your waist moves and his fingers lightly glide over your upper thigh. When you don’t protest, he starts caressing, warming up your skin. The contact makes you hot between your legs, making you unconsciously rub your thighs and arch your back, your butt backing up against his front.
You immediately flinch, jolting your middle forward outside the covers. “Sorry.” You mumble, your cheeks burning in embarrassment, your body staying in that awkward position.
Xavier can’t help but laugh at the position you’re in. He rubs your shoulder in an attempt to console you. “It’s okay. I don’t mind”
It takes you a few seconds to muster up the courage to go back under the cover, closing the distance between your bodies, letting him spoon you.
You feel like you could melt in his arms; he’s so warm, smells like fresh linen and herbal hair shampoo. Even though you’re still nervous, your body is able to relax and press further against him, unintentionally grinding your soft bottom against his quickly hardening length.
Your pussy clenches as you feel his clothed hard dick against you. He doesn’t say anything, but shift a little further from you.
You don’t know if it’s the weariness, the horniness, or the boldness (if you can call it that), that makes you whisper. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.” And you close the distance again, this time slowly sliding your ass against him to prove your point.
A shuddering breath leaves his lips, as he starts moving at your pace. He shifts to rest on his elbow and his hand moves up to cup your cheek, and you turn to face him, your hips halting the movement.
He gazes into your eyes and nudges the tip of your nose with his. He softly breathes your name and his soft warm lips leave a feather light kiss on yours. He waits for your reaction with those puppy eyes that always make you weak.
With the hand that was under you, you hold the side of his face and pull him into a soft kiss. Your lips softly graze and nip as Xavier adjusts his body, elbows resting on either side of your head, his chest resting against yours, but his pelvis is hovering against yours.
You decide to be the one to take the next step; fingers of one hand run through his hair as you deepen the kiss, your tongue glosses his bottom lip and slipping inside, tasting his. The other hand pushes down his lower back, and he takes the hint.
You gasp into the kiss as his dick grinds right between your clothed folds, grazing your clit just right. Your cheeks and core are burning as Xavier starts rutting waster and harder, you can feel his heartbeat pounding against your chest. Both of you are panting between kisses, suppressing moans and whines.
He breathes against your lips “We should stop.” When he notices a flash of disappointment on your face, he adds, “It’s so easy to hear everything here.”
You nod. “Yeah, you’re right.” You gulp and take in deep breaths. Your tent is the furthest from the rest, but still close enough to hear if someone is getting it on.
He rolls over to his side, still facing you. His eyes take in your features as his fingertips graze over them. He pulls you in by the back of your head into a slow kiss. Your lips taste each other, tongues licking, his teeth playfully nibbling your bottom lip.
The hand on the back of your hand travels over your jaw to hold your chin, and a deep sigh leaves his lips. He whispers, “It’s so hard to hold back.” and the continues tasting your plump lips.
Those words make your panties wetter than they were. You throw your leg over his hips and soon you’re straddling him, and his arms envelop you, pressing your body flush against his, his hips bucking up to meet yours once again.
But you crave more contact and so does Xavier. At the same time, Xavier pulls down his shorts and you take off yours. A whimper escapes your lips as you sit back down on his rock hard dick, your sexes only separated by thin fabric.
He pulls you into a deep, hungry kiss, his hands grabbing your ass, moving your hips in the same rhythm with his. The friction feels so good, too good. Your pussy is creaming so much, making a mess of your panties and his boxer briefs. Then he shifts his hips a little and his cockhead starts hitting and rubbing your clit over and over, and you’re mewling and panting into the sloppy kiss.
He smirks against your lips. “Honey, I need you to stay quiet. I don’t want anyone else to hear you like this.”
The heat pools in the bottom of belly. “Xavier, I’m close.”
“Yeah? Is my little bunny feeling good?” He pants, and by the twitching of his cock, you think he’s close too.
You hold back a disappointed whine when he puts a distance between your hips, but then you feel him push down his boxers freeing his throbbing dick. He pulls your panties to the side and brings your hips back down, your dripping pussy lips sliding against his thick length, and he immediately locks your lips with his, swallowing your moan.
He has you in a tight embrace, one hand on the plump flesh of your ass and the other on the back of your neck. His lips leave a wet trail from your lips over your jaw to the shell of your ear, and you listen to his restrained pants and grunts.
His hot breath fans over your ear “Let’s come together.” He pulls up both of your shirts a bit, and you feel his hard ab muscles tensing against your skin.
You can only nod as the tip starts hitting your clit again, and in a few seconds you’re coming undone on top of him, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, muffling your moans.
Xavier follows shortly after, his cum spilling over both of your bellies.
You take a moment to calm down and you notice that he’s still as hard. You come up to meet his gaze.
His eyes are veiled with so much lust and craving. “I – “
“Please, fuck me.” You need more.
With those three magic words, he’s on top of you again, his shirt and the blanket disregarded somewhere in the corner. He pushes your tank top over your breasts, his hot lips latching onto your nipple while his fingers play with the other one, while his cock is sliding with ease between your slippery folds.
You know that he wants to prep you more, but you feel like you’ve been edged for too long, your hole clenching around nothing.
Xavier’s breath hitches against your nipple when you reach down and wrap your hand around his member, feeling how long and thick he is (he’s longer than your thought).
He comes up and holds your gaze as you tease the tip against your soaking entrance “I need you now.”
His hand switches with yours, slowly easing into you, his gaze never leaving yours. He swallows thickly, and cursing under his breath as he feels your walls clench around him.
And you’re a mess under him, biting your lip to contain your moans and whines, but your pussy is already fluttering around his length, second orgasm building up.
When he’s finally buried to the hilt, he rests his body on top of yours, neither of you caring about the slippery cum between you, if anything it spurs you on even more.
He slowly starts rolling his hips, his lips leaving open mouth kisses over your collar bone and your neck. You fingers find purchase in his hair and nails lightly scrape the skin over his taut back muscles. In your daze you take a moment to admire his strong back and then you move your hand from his back to grab his biceps. Fuck, you wish there was more light here.
Xavier’s lips lock with yours in a sloppy kiss, his tip grazing your sweet spot with every thrust while his fingertips rub your sensitive bundle of nerves. His voice is raspy from all the strangled groans, “You’re squeezing me so hard, princess. Are you gonna come for me?”
You only manage a small moan in response, and you don’t even care if you’re loud. And the wet smacking of his pelvis against your creamy cunt is already giving you away.
You barely give any warning as suddenly another orgasm crashes over you, his free hand covering your mouth. He coos in your ear that’s right and you’re so pretty and sweet names that you barely register as you whimper against his hand and your pussy spasms around his cock.
As you come down from your high, he picks up the pace and soon you notice him twitching inside you, his hips stuttering and his pants becoming shallower.
He murmurs “Where do you want me?”
You fight back the urge to say ‘inside’, you want him to fill you up so bad, but now is not the place to make that kind of mess.
Still, you don’t want spill it outside. “Use my mouth.”
His face burns and his dick painfully throbs at those words. You rest on your elbows as he pulls out and straddles your waist, his hand resting on your head.
You let him guide the tip past your lips, and you swirl your tongue around it tasting your mixed juices. He swallows a moan as you take him in deeper; swollen lips enveloping his cock, tongue swirling, tasting him, and grazing his pulsing veins, and he can’t help the pang of jealousy that hits him with how good you’re at this.
Pushing those thoughts back, he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb. “You’re taking me so good.”
He starts thrusting, unable to hold back much longer. He whispers between pants “Tap my arm if I go too hard.”
You hum against his length, focused on relaxing your throat as his cockhead starts hitting more and more with each thrust and stutter of his hips.
You feel him throb hard in your mouth, and his hand travels under your chin. You hear him demand with a strangled groan “Look at me.”
Your eyes lock with his, the sight of you sucking him in with a fucked-out face making him tip over the edge, filling your mouth with his hot cum.
He takes shaky breaths as he twitches in your mouth as you suck him and swallow each drop, not letting anything go to waste.
After he pulls out, he sits next to you and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.
He holds your face in his hands, his nose nudging yours. “Are you okay?”
You nod and kiss him again. And then you feel cold air hit the wet spots on your body. You chuckle “We need to get cleaned up, though.”
With that, you wipe yourselves with wipes and dress up to make an awkward walk towards the bathroom. You just hope that no one heard what you were doing in the tent. Or the shower.
#love and deepspace#xavier love and deepspace#xavier smut#lads smut#lads xavier#lads x reader#xavier x reader#xavier x you#xavier fic#love and deepspace xavier#banner by cafekitsune
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How do you think Argenti, Gepard, Dan Heng, Blade, and Dr. Ratio would react to finding their lover crying about how beautiful they are?
Argenti would be honoured that you found him of beauty equal to that of your own.
Truly he was because he was the type to believe that it took true beauty to recognise beauty in all its other forms.
He would hold your face in his hands and try to calm you down with some sweet nothings and kisses as his thumbs wipe away your tears.
‘My beloved rose,’ he’d begin, ‘to be viewed as beautiful by your eyes is an incomparable experience and I am blessed that you think so highly of me because to me, you might as well have been the originator of beauty itself as you make even the most mundane chore beautiful.’ He pushes his forehead against yours, brushing his nose against yours. ‘I am so honoured to be viewed as such in your eyes. I shall Cherish this eternally.’ He finishes as he then proceeds to kiss under your eyes, your eyelids and finally down your tear streaked cheeks gingerly as though you were going to break.
Argenti just spends the rest of the day proving just how beautiful you are in his eyes as repayment afterwards.
You’d probably had to hold onto him and tell him that he doesn’t have to repay you for speaking your truth, but Argenti was adamant in repaying you for doing so and if that meant spending eternity wait in on you hand and foot then Argenti would gladly do so.
Gepard originally thinks that something was wrong when he caught you tearing up and was about to use whatever he needed to resolve the issue, only for you to tell him how beautiful you thought he was.
Now he’s sporting a cherry red face and was at a loss for words.
He was use to people singing his achievements despite thinking that he could do so much more but getting a compliment in general that wasn’t tied to anything he’s done was enough to have the second oldest Landau a little speechless.
‘Really?’ He would ask sheepishly while rubbing the back of his head. ‘I mean I wouldn’t think so but that doesn’t mean I’m within my right to tell you whatever you think of me is right or wrong, it’s just something I’ve got to get used to to in due time.’ He adds as he then grasps your hands in his and squeeze them.
‘But I thank you for thinking so highly of me that isn’t in regard to the things I’ve accomplished and more so on me just being…well me, even if I do fail at keeping our plants alive…but still I’m glad that you’ve stayed by my side for as long as you have. I truly don’t know what I’d do without you.’ Gepard finishes his statement off by kissing your forehead, down the slope of your nose and finally a sweet and gentle peck to the lips.
Dan Heng
He was quick to come to your aid upon seeing you crying, but the moment you tell him that the reason why was because you thought he was beautiful.
He didn’t hole much of an option about himself but he certainly didn’t think he was beautiful, average maybe, but not once did he ever look himself in the mirror and saw beauty staring back at him. He just saw Dan Heng of the Astral Express, nothing more, nothing less.
So for you to see beauty in him wasn’t something he was prepared for as his eyes widened a tad and his breath caught in his throat before looking away to scratch the tip of his nose out of habit.
‘You truly have a unique way with words don’t you?’ He’d say to himself as he smiles softly to himself, glad that nothing horrible had happened when his back was turned, you genuinely had him going for a bit there and he was more then glad to be wrong on this occasion.
He’ll hold your compliment close to his chest in hopes of absorbing it and committing it to memory, guarding it as though it were a priceless treasure he could not be separated from. He often didn’t think himself as someone special, but the way you spoke about how beautiful he was while crying made him want to appreciate everything you have ever said about him in the past in a remotely positive light. He didn’t know he needed it until you came along to shower him in love for just existing.
Blade is more of an ‘actions speak louder then words’ type of guy.
So he wouldn’t exactly be moved to bits when you tell him how beautiful he is because he knew what his body looked like, he also knew that you knew what his body looked like, so he often wondered where or not you were seeing the same thing as he was.
So unless you were holding his arms, admiring his scars and or tracing/kissing them with adoration like you were doing now, then he wasn’t going to be less to easily believing in words alone.
‘I’m far from it.’ He’d reply but felt the walls he’s built inside weaken the moment you pressed a soft kiss to one of the more larger scars across his inner forearm. A simple act made from genuine affection that shouldn’t have made as much of an effect on Blade it did.
The feeling of vulnerability wasn’t one he welcomed that often but when he does it was more or less only within your presence. In those moments you could tell him anything and he would be lead by the smallest spark to believe in it, including telling him he’s beautiful as you combed your fingers through his hair with tears still blurring your vision.
He’d brush your tears away with calloused finger pads and wordlessly bring you in close to his body, leaching off of your warmth and allowed you to borrow your head into the crook of his neck, and just keep you there as his own special way of saying thank you for seeing beauty within a monster.
Ratio
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, or however that saying goes.
Veritas didn’t pride himself on his how conventionally attractive he was but more so on his intellect and extensive wealth of knowledge.
So when he caught you crying over how apparently beautiful he was, Veritas would want to naturally disagree with this statement but due to the fact that you were in a highly emotional state, he just bites his tongue and calmly walks over to you, kneels next to you and pulls out a handkerchief and start gingerly wiping away your tears.
‘I appreciate the heartfelt compliment but I do not think that it is worth your tears.’ He would then say afterwards as he coddles you into his side, making sure you could feel his appreciation for your ability to care for such things in life, seeing as how he was too transfixed on the much bigger, more complex paradoxes of life. ‘And don’t rub your eyes so hard when wiping away your tears, you’re only hurting yourself when you do that.’ He adds fussily but it never fails to make you smile and laugh at how much he cared about you in his own way.
He doesn’t stop mid work to smell the flowers but you did and he knew how even the smallest, minuet things could mean so much to someone, even if he didn’t understand the reason as to why, but he can learn to accept that what you found worth praising and what he found worth praising were two completely separate things and that was okay.
#hsr imagines#hsr imagine#hsr x reader#honaki star rail imagines#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail imagines#blade x reader#blade imagines#blade imagine#argenti x reader#Argenti imagine#Argenti imagines#dan heng x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng imagines#Dan heng imagine#gepard x reader#gepard imagines#gepard imagine#veritas ratio x reader#Veritas ratio imagine#Veritas ratio imagines
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Hello, Duchess
Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.
Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI
A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
Ari’s P.O.V.
“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.
‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.
In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.
Well, that couldn’t be right.
He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.
While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.
Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.
Just in case.
“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”
“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.
“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”
“That means get out!”
“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”
“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”
“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”
While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.
Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.
Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.
Your P.O.V
“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.
“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.
And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.
“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.
If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?
“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”
Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school.
“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”
You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.
“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”
“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”
“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.
Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”
“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”
“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”
Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”
You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.
“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”
“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”
“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.
“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.
“As much as I can be.”
“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”
“Nope.”
He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.
“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”
“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”
And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.
“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”
“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.
“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”
In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?
“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.
Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.
“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”
Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.
“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”
“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”
And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.
“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.
Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.
“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”
“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”
Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.
Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.
But not now.
Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.
Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle.
“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.
However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.
“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”
His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:
“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.
“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.
“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”
Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.
END
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Carlos Sainz 55- spending time
Carlos Sainz x Fem!Reader
Summary: you and your boyfriend finally have a day to yourselves. You want to make the most out of it.
Wc: 2,8k
Warning: lots of nicknames, translated Spanish, Some smutt at the end MDI!
DON'T USE MY WORK PLEASE
It was one of those days when you and your boyfriend both had the day off. It didn't happen often. Carlos was always traveling or training for the next race. He was on the other side of the globe most of the time. Being a personal stylist yourself and having your own mode magazine didn't leave you with a lot of spare time. You traveled a lot in the fashion season, attending shows and even walking some yourself. The thing was that when you had to travel, Carlos was home and vice versa. Of course you both visited each other at your work, supporting each other career. But both of you having free time was rare, so this was a special day.
This is how you found yourself in bed cuddled up against the chest of your Spanish boyfriend. You sun had woken you up because you had forgotten to close the curtains after last night's encounters. Both of you hadn't moved to close them, to wrapped up in each other's embrace. Your finger was painting circles on his bare chest as his hand went to massage your head. "This is nice." Carlos whispered, echoing your own thoughts as you both basked in the peacefulness of the morning. The world outside seemed to fade away, forgotten in the midst of your shared connection and the desire to simply be together. You knew you wanted to spend some time outside of your home today and for that you had to get up.
"We can go out for breakfast. I fancy some tortilla Espanola." You look up at your boyfriend, the corners of your mouth moving up in a smile. Carlos returned your smile, his eyes twinkling with warmth and affection as he leaned in to place a sweet kiss on your head. "Just give me a couple of minutes, mi vida. Then we can head out," he promised, his voice filled with tenderness and love. You hum in response. Carlos's fingers continued to weave through your hair, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as you fought the urge to drift back to sleep. You didn't want to 'waste' this day together by laying in bed all day. You wanted to make the most of every moment spent in each other's company.
Eventually you both got out of bed. Your Dior slip on dress had moved a bit in your sleep, your side boob hanging out. "We can also just take it off completely." Carlos tucked on the dress a mischievous smile on his lips. Before he could take it off you slap his hand away. "You have to waite till tonight cariño. I want to go for breakfast first." he groans in response way too eager for your love right now. You laugh at him as you walk towards the bathroom. It had been your routine that Carlos would make you both a cup of coffee as you went to get dressed. After that you could pack as he took a shower. So that was exactly what you were both doing right now.
Carlos was sitting in the kitchen making two cups of coffee as he heard you singing in the other room. He smiled to himself. He really won in life with you. You walk out of the bathroom in only your blouse looking around for your necklace that you couldn't find. Carlos followed you with his eyes, sometimes looking down at your but. When he noticed that you were looking for something he stood up and went to stand behind you. Putting his hands in your waist he asks "What are you looking for?" You turn around facing him and look up to see in his eyes. His gorgeous big brown puppy eyes. "One of my Vivienne Westwood necklaces. The one that you got me. I don't know where I put it. "
"I got you lots of those." You were obsessed with her jewelry line and he just had to give you everything you looked at for more than one second. You had quite the selection of her stuff. "I know you did. I am forever grateful for that even if I tell you that you don't need to get me those." He shrugs his shoulders knowing he would buy you another right now. "The Valentina Pendant. Have you seen it?"
"Is that how you are going out." Carlos asks with a smile on his face as he looks at you still not wearing a skirt. A confused look appeared on your face thinking he didn't like what you were wearing before you saw that your legs were still bare of any clothes.
He did indeed see it a couple minutes ago. He lets go of your waist much to your own disliking and walks to the coffee table. The necklace was laying on top of the current book you were reading. He picked it up and walked back to you. He moved your hair to the side and put it around your neck. "Thank you." You turn around and stand on your tip toes to give him a kiss. He pulls you right back when you want to leave. His hands had moved down to your ass, squishing it a bit. You smile into the kiss and you almost give in to him. "Not now, Carlos. We have things to do. Go get ready!"
"Alright" He sighs. "There is coffee for you on the counter." He kisses your head and walks towards the other room. You thank him and grab your drink. Sitting down on one of the chairs you check your mail for any important news. You saw a new invitation for a fashion show and some questions about collaborating. You put them unread not wanting to answer them right away. You put your empty cup into the sink, also cleaning up after Carlos who hadn't yet cleaned up his stuff.
You ran back to the bedroom and walked out, this time wearing the skirt you wanted to wear. You checked if you had everything in your bag before walking out of the apartment.
You walk hand in hand through the busy streets of Madrid. Even though you had moved in by Carlos two years ago, the city never disappointed you.
You can't help but smile as he pulls out a chair for you to sit and you exchange warm glances. His efforts to showcase the beauty and charm of Spain never go unnoticed, but you playfully resist admitting that it is indeed the best country.
Carlos leans in closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "Come on, admit it. You know Spain is the best," he teases, nudging you gently.
You laugh, shaking your head. "Maybe it's pretty great, but I'll never say it's better than my home country."
The waiter approaches, interrupting your conversation, and you both place your orders. The suspense of your upcoming show hangs in the air as you share with Carlos that you received an email about a performance.
"So, when's the show? I can't wait to see you up there, shining on stage," he says with a grin, his eyes full of admiration.
"I still need to check the details. Don't want it to clash with any plans," you reply, a warm feeling of gratitude for his support. He nods his head agreeing with your statement.
As you sit at the cozy, sunlit table outside your favorite cafe in Madrid, you can't help but reflect on the memories you have made in this vibrant city. Three years back you were here on a holiday with a couple of friends. That was the moment that you met the man in front of you. The love of your life. You had gotten lost in the crowded streets and asked a stranger for directions. He walks you towards your destination and gave you his phone number. You hadn't sent him a message right away, scared that he may be a creep. Your friends had convinced you after they heard you say his name. They knew he wasn't a creep. He is your future husband.
You both look up by the sound of the waiter approaching your food. You take the food and thank him before turning back to your conversation.
"I cleared by schedule for next week so I can come to Imola with you." You say and take a bite from your tortilla Espanola. His face lights up as you mention it. "Really? I already have a paddock pass for you. You are going to bring me luck." You smile at him. It had been some time since you were in the paddock. You really hated yourself for not being there so often as other wags. They all have their own jobs and they still managed to visit their boyfriends.
After your brunch you walk through some shops. Carlos had bought a new suit for an upcoming event he had to attend. You had bought a matching dress for the event and a new top for next race weekend.
Right now you were walking in a Victoria Secret and were looking at some new lingerie sets. The last two were broken after some fun activities you had done with Carlos. "What about this one." He shows the set to Carlos. It was a blue one, with lace trim and a little heart on the nipple coverage.
"It is beautiful, just like all these others you have chosen." He sat admiring you in every piece. He was already carrying some of the sets you had picked out and you disliked the idea of him having to waite much longer so you got dressed in your own clothes. When you got out of the changing room Carlos had already paid for everything and was carrying your bags. When you asked for them he just gave you his hand and walked out of the shop.
"You didn't have to pay for that. I got my own money."
"What kind of boyfriend would I be to let you pay. Everything you want i will get it for you, mi amor." He kisses your cheek. You blush at his words. "What if I wanted to get a special limited edition car that cost way too much."
"Then I get it for you. Do you have anything in mind right now. I know that you want a Porsche. I can get it for you. Or a Ferrari, I personally really like those." He jokes in the last sentence.
It was getting late and you were walking back. "Want to get some ice cream?"Carlos asks as he points towards a Gelato shop.
"Won't your trainer disapprove?" You ask, knowing that ice cream isn't part of his training and dieting schedule. You are pretty sure it is somewhere at the bodem, just under all other delicious food. "What he doesn't know doesn't hurt him. Lets go." He takes your arm and together you walk to the shop. The line isn't too long and you can already order after five minutes.
"I love ice cream." You lick your cone. You had gotten a cone with pistache and white chocolate. You always take the same, can't go wrong with pistache. It is the best. Carlos had a cone with a vanilla scoop. A bit basic, but always delicious too.
Carlos was still carrying your bags so he couldn't take your hand for the rest of the walk home. You had tried multiple times to ask to hand over your bags, but he just shrug and walked further.
You had stopped and took a picture of the sunset. While you were doing that Carlos took pictures of his sunset, You. For him you are the most beautiful thing in this universe. When you were done it didn't take long to reach your apartment.
He opens up the door for you to walk through and you find yourself back in your home. You go to sit on a chair and take off your heels. "Finally free." Carlos shakes his head. He knows that those heels go and hurt your feet after more than one hour and still you refuse his suggestion to wear more comfortable shoes.
Carlos walks towards the bathroom and you take this as your cue to run to your bedroom. You grab your Victoria secret bag and take out one of the sets that you had just bought. Carlos hadn't seen this one yet. It was a red piece with little coverage. You put it on and admire yourself in the mirror. You hoped he liked it.
You heard the door open again and you went to place yourself on the bed. "Carlos, can you come here real quick?" You say as his footsteps get closer. You see him stop right in his tracks as his eyes stop you. "Mierda, eres tan Hermosa." he breathes out as he walks closer to you. He goes to sit on the bed and you lock eyes. His hand grabs your chin as he moves your head closer to his. Your lips touch into a deeply kiss as a soft moan escapes his lips. You move yourself onto his lap.
You start to move your hips into his and Carlos groans at the sudden movement against his dick. The bulge in his pants was growing with each movement that you made. A moan leaves your mouth at the growing feeling under you. His lips attach to your neck as his hands move you closer to him. He leaves a trail of kisses down to your breast before staying in one place which was definitely going to leave a mark tomorrow. Your finger tucks on his shirt mentioning it that it has to go off. "It isn't fair that you are still wearing all of your clothes." He removes one of his hands from your ass and takes off his shirt.
You go from his lap to help him with his belt. You stroke your hand over his throbbing area, this time a louder moan leaves his mouth and it sounds like heaven to you. Tonight the neighbors won't be getting any sleep. You go further down the bed as Carlos takes of his pants leaving him in only his underwear. He towers over you both hands on either side of your head. He leans back down to place a kiss on your lips. You gasp as his hands move up your leg towards your wetness. He slips in his tongue when your mouth opens. "So needy for me already." He says as his fingers stroke over you pussy. The thin fabric of the lingerie doesn't do too much as you feel yourself asking for more. "Please, Carlos. I need you to touch me. "
He smirks. He pulls down your panties. He puts in one finger helping your adjust to it a bit before adding another. He keeps kissing you as he starts pumping his finger into your pussy. Moans leave your mouth as he takes up the speed. "So beautiful. So loud and all for me."He leaves a kiss between your breast. Your riding his fingers had been something you looked forward to since this morning. He feels you getting closer around his fingers and he takes them out just before you reach your climax. You groan in frustration as you feel empty. "Why?" You cry out. He places another kiss to make it up. "I want you to come all over my cock, princessa."
He takes off his underwear and his already hard cock springs out. You moan at the sight of it. "Please, just fuck me. " He puts his dick by your entrance moving it a bit up and down. Your hand fly in to his hair pulling in frustration. You need him now.
He enters you and fills you up. Pain went over you but it was fast replaced with pleasure as he began to move in and out of you. Your hands grab the duvet under you and the feeling of pleasure goes over you. "Papi, faster" You scream out. Carlos didn't mind if everyone heard you. Right now was all about love. He picks up his pace and your eyes roll into the back of your mind. You feel a familiar knot forming in your belly and you know you are close "Don't stop, please I am so close." He feels himself getting closer to his own orgasm as you tighten around him. He goes a bit faster and you back arches. Heavy panting is heard as you both come riding out your orgasms.
Carlos catches his breath before sliding out of you an empty feeling leaving you behind. He walks to the bathroom and gets a wet towel. He helps clean you up and places a kiss on your mouth. " I love you, mi vida." He lays next to you and you put your head on his chest. " I love you too."
#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x you#Carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz 55#carlos sainz x oc#carlos sainz jr#carlos sainz#f1#formula 1#carlos sainz imagine#f1 imagine#formule1#f1 fanfic#carlos sainz fanfic#f1 x reader
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THERE’S NOTHING MORE DANGEROUS THAN A HUMILIATED JEALOUS MAN
jealousy headcanons─ kai anderson x gn!reader
WARNINGS: nsfw. mdni!! toxic relationship, degradation, manipulation, mentions of sex
when you're out together, Kai becomes possessive and jealous at the slightest hint of attention you get from others. if someone so much as glances in your direction, he accuses you of leading them on or being flirtatious. Kai also gaslights you to make you feel guilty for the actions of others, then demands you to prove your undying loyalty to him.
sometimes, during cult meetings, he pulls you onto his lap, a blatant display of ownership and control. as you settle onto him, you can feel the bulge of his crotch rub against your ass, the possessiveness in his touch as he pinches your thigh, the aggression in his voice sending a clear message to everyone present that you belong to him.
Kai leaves his mark on you with strategically placed hickeys, a physical manifestation of his possessiveness. his lips trail along your skin, leaving a trail of bruises in the most obvious places, a deliberate reminder to anyone who sees them that you belong to him.
whenever another cult member dares to engage with you for too long or watches you with lingering interest, Kai's body language becomes tense, his jaw clench and nostrils flare with barely concealed rage and jealousy.
his grip tightens around your hips as he presses you against the wall, lips crashing against yours in a sloppy yet possessive kiss. his arms form a cage around you, trapping you effectively. rage and lust war in his eyes as he pants heavily, hot breath tickling your skin as he pulls you closer, hips grinding into yours. “who the fuck does he think he is, laying eyes on you like that?” he growls, voice low and tinged with jealousy as he peppers a trail of angry kisses along your jawline. you try to protest, but he grabs you roughly by the back of your neck and shoves his tongue down your throat, reveling in the little sounds you make
on cult missions, Kai deliberately avoids pairing you up with Winter, fearing any potential romantic connection between the two of you. he’s paranoid about losing control over you and his sister. that’s why you always end up being paired with Harrison or Samuels.
he obsessively monitors your social media activity, scrutinising every post, like, and comment. to maintain further surveillance, he goes as far as creating fake accounts to stalk you online, ensuring he's always aware of your interactions and movements.
during “pinky power”, Kai uses the guise of honesty pry into your past relationships and sexual exploits, gathering information that he can use to his benefit. he makes mental notes on your preferences, all while subtly comparing himself to your past partners.
driven by his competitive nature and jealousy, Kai is fixated on being the best fuck you’ve ever had. every time you two have sex, he strives to outperform your past lovers. he studies your reactions, using his knowledge to give you mind-blowing, earth-shattering orgasms designed to addict you to him completely.
he belittles you all the time, calling you an “useless cumslut” or “incompetent bitch” making you feel inadequate and insecure. with every mistake, he reminds you that you're replaceable, instilling a constant fear of disappointing him and falling short of his expectations.
despite his harsh treatment to you, Kai strategically dangles fleeting moments of affection that keeps you hooked. he holds you in his arms and calls you his “little lamb”, sometimes even allowing you to run your fingers through his hair. in these rare moments, he knows exactly how to keep you wrapped around his finger, making you feel cherished and special. forming an emotional bond that makes it hard for you to leave him.
in the end, Kai is a toxic, controlling, misogynistic edgelord. he’s obsessed with revolution and world domination. he’s the last person you’d want to be in a relationship with. but remember the time he slapped Meadow for “wasting his time”? if you truly are nothing but a worthless, replaceable fucktoy like he claims you to be, then why would he even bother giving you the time of day, let alone dedicating hours to obsess over you?
the answer is simple: he loves you.
a/n: sorry this sucks. literally wrote this in 30 minutes
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Can u do a list as to how each grim acts or behaves.
How each Yuus Grim behaves
Part 1
🪡-Tailor!Yuu
Appearance: Grim has a long cream to gray coat. He looks like a very fancy cat breed. His long fur needs constant care and baths.
Personality: Grim lives the life of a social media icon as a pet influencer. He doesn't consider himself a pet though. Because of this he's very even-tempered and tolerates most things. He often has to model new outfits and accessories for cats and he enjoys the attention. He spends time at Pomefiore getting combed, brushed, and pampered as a famous pet. Cater often tries to get pictures with him which causes Grim to hiss at him and send a fireball his way.
How they met: Grim had always seen himself as a born star. So he tried to do so through magic which is why he stalked the halls of NRC. He narrowly avoided becoming Trein's new pet. He was drown to a beautiful ribbon that spilled out of a coffin and chose it the uniform he wanted. After the catastrophe went down Yuu took him in as a model and they started a social media together modeling outfits and making videos.
🩺-Vet!Yuu
Appearance: Grim takes on the appearance of a Savannah cat. His body size is larger with longer legs. He has a habit of hissing when he speaks.
Personality: Grim is more feral with a desire to be the strongest. Grim constantly picks fights and causes arguments. He will only eat raw meat and fish. Grim doesn't like humans at all with Yuu as the single exception. He often swipes at Ace and Deuce as they walk by.
How they met: He heard of Savanaclaw and knew he needed to join the school. Instead of interrupting the entrance ceremony, he ended up being tranquilized and put in a cage. Yuu eventually found him after the event after Crowley put them in charge of the beasts on campus. They come to an agreement that Grim will be free if he becomes their familiar.
🔫-Special Forces!Yuu
Appearance: Grey Norwegian forest cat. One of the biggest cats in the world. He's a big fluffy boy. Built for cold weather.
Personality: This Grim is quiet and intimidating. Well as intimidating as he can be. He wants to learn magic because he wants a challenge. He enjoys games and playing at the board games club. He is pretty calm and even lazy if he isn't challenged enough. Yuu often brings him new things to do like hunting tasks and spying. Grim enjoys snow and will bury himself the moment it gets high enough.
How they met: Yuu can be pretty weird. They sort of snatched Grim up like a stray cat and took him home. Grim was just too fluffy to resist. Grim took it well and revealed he was a walking monster after a few days of brushing and food.
🌊- Marine Biologist!Yuu
Appearance: Grim looks like a Turkish Van. His coat is waterproof, making him a natural swimmer. He is easy to spot with his mostly white coat.
Personality: Grim is often wandering around aimlessly. He will dive into fishing spots to catch fresh fish. Because of Yuu he spends alot of time at the lounge. He has no fear of the twins or Azul for that matter. Often naps at random spots around the Cafe. The customers have started feeding him snacks if he lets them pet him. It is very lucrative for Azul. Grim has taken up surfing with Yuu.
How they met: Grim washed up on shore and was saved by Yuu. They have been inseparable ever since. Grim is incredibly laid back so he keeps Yuu calm when the situation gets tough.
🪶-Harpy!Yuu
Appearance: Grim is a Bengal cat. With a lean and thin body.
Personality: Grim is affectionate and curious. He spends a lot of time at Scarabia. He enjoys hunting pests for fun and exploring everything around him. He also has a habit of stealing things. He loves stealing treasures. He is always running from Jamil.
How they met: Grim was stealing from NRC when he got caught by Yuu. Grim bargained for his lives by giving Yuu the treasure he stole. Afterwards, he decided to take advantage of Yuu and stuck to them for more treasure.
🌷-Gardener!Yuu
Appearance: Scottish Fold with a round head and curled ears.
Personality: Having to deal with their no-nonsense human is no easy task. He helps take care of the garden but he will steal fruits and veggies all the time. When Yuu got mini cows he started working as a barn cat to keep him out of the garden. He's not happy about it. He likes the pies Yuu makes though.
How they met: Grim was drawn to Yuu whether he liked it or not. He was mostly drawn to the silvervine in their pockets. Yuu offered it to him and he decided he liked them. It might have been just the catnip.
🍴-Chef!Yuu
Appearance: Burmese. Big ol' ears. On the chunky side but it's not too bad yet.
Personality: very cheerful and lazy. He enjoys helping Yuu cook but he tends to make a mess. He constantly pulls on Yuu to get more snacks. Grim loves that he gets to laze around and gets belly rubs. He however hates having Ruggie around and taking his place.
How they met: Yuu found him starving outside the school gates and took him in. Ever since Grim has been spoiled rotten.
♨️-Onsen!Yuu
Appearance: Japanese bobtail, low shed, and short hair. Smells like flowers.
Personality: He's nice but he's no lap cat. Grim stands guard at the door of the onsen. He is the mascot of the spa. He gets the best fish and massages daily. He gets protective of the workers and Yuu and will attack anyone who gets out of line.
How they met: Grim saved Yuu when she was getting harassed and as Yuu's hero, he was given a place by her side.
🌙Celestial!Yuu
Appearance: Has pelt formed from stardust. Feels like fur. Feels warmer than the average cat.
Personality: Grim is a silent companion who has helped Yuu raise 3 children. Grim slept next to Silver every night for years and has served as a somewhat unlucky nanny cat for Malleus as well. He's done a good job fetching toys, turning out lights, and being used as a stuffed animal replacement. Not to mention a crocodile's chew toy. He is relieved that the boys are grown up. But the boys still look for him. He hides from them.
How they met: Yuu made Grim hundreds of years ago and he has served as a loving companion and aid. He was firmly against their marriage to Lilia.
🎮-Otaku!Yuu
Appearance: Selkirk Rex. he's not matted thats just his fur. He is just curly.
Personality: Grim was just looking for a way into the school and convinced Yuu to help him. He just didn't know that Yuu would immediately drag him to the headmaster and demand to keep him. Now he has to tolerate being used for cat memes and being petted by Idia. But if they put one more pineapple on his head they are dead. It's not too bad he gets to Playtest every game Yuu makes and eat snacks with them.
How they met: He was so raggedy. Yuu just wanted to see where this goes.
#tailor!yuu#vet!yuu#special forces!yuu#marine biologist!yuu#harpy!yuu#gardener!yuu#chef!yuu#onsen!yuu#celestial!yuu#otaku!yuu#yuuniverse#twisted wonderland grim#twst grim#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader
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I just wanna see that smile
wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss
a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!
Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since.
Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something.
Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile.
Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy.
Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy.
Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers.
“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck.
Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page.
“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”
“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.”
Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around.
Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there.
“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him.
“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.”
The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive.
Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm.
They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.
“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?”
Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.
“What are you worried about?”
“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor.
“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual.
“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.”
Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back.
“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.”
“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”
“Yep.”
He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands.
“You’re serious.” Eddie says.
“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases.
“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?”
Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.”
Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.
“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?”
The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull.
Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear.
“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”
fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.
#steddie#steddie fic#steddie fanfic#steddie fanfiction#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x steve harrington#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#myblurbs
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