#those who truly love each other will continue loving each other
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regency era!ghost x reader au (part 7)
One evening, as you and Simon glided across the dance floor, lost in each other’s eyes, you couldn’t help but notice the envious glances and hushed whispers that followed in your wake.
“How on earth did those two end up together?”
“By the look of it, the Duke should be proposing any day now.”
“I think I deserve to be Duchess more than she does.”
“You know,” you say slowly as you twirl gracefully, “you’re making quite the spectacle of yourself, Simon. People are starting to talk.”
He chuckles, his grip tightening around your waist. “Let them talk.”
He has to bite his tongue to restrain himself from continuing with, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I’m yours, you’re mine, and I’m not about to let anyone forget it.
You smile, feeling a rush of affection and amusement. “You really don’t care, do you?” you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice.
He shakes his head, a serious expression on his face. “Not in the slightest. As long as I have you, nothing else matters.”
You laugh softly, leaning into him. “You’re incorrigible, Simon.”
God, the way you make his name sound so pretty. He might faint.
After the dance, Simon pulls you away from the crowd and onto a balcony, the soft hum of the party fading into the background. With the way his hands feel on you, you can’t seem to care that you’re unsupervised and alone with a man.
The cool night air is a welcome respite from the warmth of the ballroom. You shiver slightly, hugging yourself to keep warm. Immediately, Simon shrugs off his coat and drapes it over your shoulders to ward off the chill.
“Thank you,” you murmur, grateful for his thoughtfulness.
He nods, his eyes lingering on your face. He loves the way your makeup highlights your features, the way you style your hair. He loves the way you stand up for yourself, the way you speak your mind without a care in the world. He loves the way you look so small compared to him, the way your dress accentuates your frame perfectly. He loves how passionate you are about the things you love, the way you make him feel. And—
"You know," he begins, his voice low and intimate, "there was a time when I thought I would never be capable of feeling this way about anyone, let alone you."
You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Oh? And what way might that be, Simon?”
He smiles, a genuine, tender expression that warms you to your very core. "In love," he admits softly. "Completely and utterly in love."
For a moment, you're stunned into silence, your heart pounding in your chest. The sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability in his voice—it's everything you had hoped for, yet never dared to believe.
"You— you love me?" you ask, your voice barely more than a whisper.
He nods solemnly, taking your hand in his.
"With all my heart, every fiber of my being,” he replies, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "I know I've hurt you in the past, and I can never truly erase those mistakes. But I promise you, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you'll let me."
Tears prick at your eyes, and you blink them away, squeezing his hand tightly. "Oh, Simon," you breathe, "I never thought I'd hear you say those words. But now that I have, I love you too. Despite everything, I love you."
A radiant smile you’ve never seen from Simon spreads across his face, and he leans closer, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, he whispers lowly, "May I kiss you?"
Your breath catches, heart racing at the proximity of his face to yours. You can see every lineament, every tiny wrinkle, every light freckle that dots his face. You notice the details of his scars, the way his nose is slightly crooked. He squeezes your hand, bringing you back.
“You... you mustn’t,” you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. “It’s highly improper.”
Who are you kidding? You want this as much as he wants it.
Simon doesn’t immediately release your hand. Instead, he turns it over and places a soft kiss on the inside of your covered wrist.
“You might cause a scandal,” you say weakly, your resolve thinning with each passing second.
Simon chuckles, low and quiet. “A scandal, you say? Perhaps it’s time I gave the ton something truly scandalous to talk about.”
You swallow thickly, heat rushing up your neck. “And what, pray tell, do you have in mind?”
He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Marry me.”
The world seems to stop as his words sink in. You pull back slightly to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of jest, but all you find is sincerity and love.
“Simon,” you breathe, your heart pounding. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as I’ve ever been,” he replies, his gaze unwavering. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life proving it to you every single day. So, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
A whirlwind of emotions sweeps through you—joy, love, and a hint of disbelief. You’ve always known that your relationship with Simon was special, but to hear him propose, to see the depth of his feelings laid bare, is almost overwhelming.
“Yes,” you say, your voice filled with emotion. “Yes, I will marry you.”
The words have barely left your lips before Simon's expression transforms, an unrestrained joy lighting up his face. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his warmth enveloping you entirely.
“May I kiss you?”
You finally nod slightly, your eyes fluttering closed as anticipation builds. Simon cups your face gently with both of his rough, calloused hands, his touch hot and reassuring. He hesitates for just a heartbeat, savoring the moment, before he closes the distance between you. His lips brush against yours, tentative at first, then more assured as he feels you respond.
The kiss is tender at first, tentative, as if he's savoring every moment. You can feel the depth of his feelings in the way he kisses you, the way his hands cradle your face as if you are something precious and irreplaceable. It’s filled with the promise of all the unspoken words and emotions that have been building between you. It’s a kiss that feels like redemption, second chances, and the beginning of a future that you both long for.
Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss. He groans ever so quietly as you pull at him. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, a quickened rhythm that mirrors your own. Time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sensation, every worry and doubt melting away.
When you finally pull back, both of you breathless and slightly dazed, Simon rests his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. "I've dreamed of this moment," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “For so long.”
You smile, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.
"You're mine," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with wonder and certainty. "And I'm yours."
"Always," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness.
As you stand there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you know that whatever the future holds, you’ll face it together. And that is more than enough.
part 6 < > part 8 (finale)
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon “ghost” riley x reader#simon “ghost” riley x you#hyperactivelyme#*ੈ✩ simon “ghost” riley
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This fandom is so divided right now that it’s stressing me out.
Everyone is either pro- or anti-Tommy, pro- or anti-Bucktommy, or loves/hates Lou. It’s the only reason I was hoping bucktommy would break up in E10—I just didn’t want the shipping war to continue over hiatus. However, I’m a multishipper who enjoys bucktommy, especially all the amazing fan works people have been making, and has loved buddie for years. I would like for each side to take a moment to understand the other’s perspective. This is my likely futile attempt to get people to do so…
For the bucktommy shippers:
I need you to respect those who can’t forgive Tommy yet. Just because Hen and Chimney seem to have forgiven him, doesn’t mean that the marginalized communities that this character has been prejudiced against on screen need to forgive him too. He’s been misogynistic, racist, and homophobic (which yes likely stemmed from internalized homophobia but that doesn’t excuse his behavior).
I need you to realize that so far we’ve gotten nothing from canon except a couple kisses and few brief conversations. People are allowed to be upset with the writers for not giving us the potential this relationship has, or not be on board yet because canon hasn’t given them reason to, or simply just not love Tommy and therefore not love their relationship. Unlike Taylor who got lots of on screen development and backstory, Tommy hasn’t had that yet. It may take some time for people to get there, if they get there at all. It doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to ship it.
I also need you to be aware that a huge portion of that shipping side of the fandom consistently hates on Buddie. Plus, a significant number of people have just started watching the show and jumped into S7 without context and so so many—honestly the loudest portion of the shippers—are fetishizing gay men and are clearly just here to watch two hot white men kiss on screen. It’s disturbing and understandably turns people off to the shippers and often the ship. Fetishization of queerness is something fandom in general has been dealing with for decades and just because it’s 2024 doesn’t mean it’s still not happening. Just because you haven’t seen it also doesn’t mean it’s not happening. Also I’m not saying it doesn’t exist on the buddie side of fandom—it absolutely does—it’s just very loud with the bucktommy shippers atm.
I need some of y’all to understand that the hate for Lou at the moment is also understandable. There are some fat-phobic, misogynistic, and racist things still posted on his Instagram from about a decade ago and while this was a decade ago and people can change and grow, the fact that they’re still up says things about a person. Until they are acknowledged, disliking him and not supporting him is completely valid. The exact same goes for Ryan Guzman, but that’s a whole other conversation.
Edit: as of June 3, Lou Ferringo Jr. has proven, through a reply to someone calling him out for a racist Instagram post, that he is still racist and ableist. He replied to the person on Twitter with an ableist joke and then deleted it when he got shit for it.
For the buddie shippers:
There needs to be more respect the art of Multishipping in general, especially by younger fans lately. It’s the heart of fandom. Just because you don’t get bucktommy doesn’t mean others can’t see the potential for this relationship to be interesting plot-wise and great for Buck personally. Someone enjoying a ship you hate doesn’t mean they’re a horrible person. Also so many people love both ships and truly just want the best for Buck. These are the people that are so happy for him and want this relationship to be happy and healthy and meaningful for Buck.
But I also need you to be sympathetic toward those who jumped onboard with bucktommy because they’ve been burned by queerbait too often to ship a non-canon, bait-y ship like Buddie. No matter how much you love the show and love Buddie, you have to admit there’s been relationship baiting between them. I shipped destiel and merthur and all those things too. I get it. I need others to respect that the peak of queerbaiting was a very difficult time for fandom. It’s left some people unable to get on board.
I also need y’all to stop speculating about Lou and Oliver’s personal relationship and whether or not Oliver hates Lou. It’s strange, parasocial, and speculating about people’s lives is never appropriate. At least don’t do it online and in public forums. Talk with your friends, dm people, do whatever you want in private, but in public, let’s just leave them be. They are actors with a job. Let them do that job in peace.
I’ll probably get some flack but I consider myself to very middle of the road about all of this, a space I often find myself in fandoms. Maybe because I’ve been here so long. I so often just want people to chill out. It’s fandom. It’s supposed to be fun. Have fun!!
#911 abc#buck 911#911 on abc#evan buckley#tommy kinard#buck x tommy#buddie#buck x eddie#eddie diaz#multishipping is an art#oliver stark#lou ferrigno jr
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was thinking about ACOTAR and really into the idea of Elain struggling with the forced mating bond, so I ventured into the eluc*en tag to maybe get some slow burn or hurt/comfort or just cute stuff, but instead of art or fics the only thing I found was an unhealthy amount of copium regarding elr*el and bashing of every single other character in the series. imma go back to shipping azriel/elain, nvm.
#personal#putting together snippets of half-sentences where elain glanced at lucien sideways is fucking pathetic honestly#if you need to cope and justify your ship it is far from canon#also: yikes at that consent issue in the forced mating bond#elain choosing for herself and rejecting the bond is by far the more romantic and healthy thing to do#I think the rejected mating bond story line is the beginning of an end to all mating bonds and its magic#feyre and Rhys don't need a mating bond to love each other#and elain should be free to love whoever she wants#I bet Elain will be the one to break that cauldron tradition and break all the mating bonds off#those who truly love each other will continue loving each other#and others will be free#I'd go feral if some magical artifact not only destroyed my life but also forced me onto a man I never met before#elain is not a thing to be pushed around and be married off#she is a person and has her own feelings#mating bond is just a fancy word for forced marriage and that is YIKES#just my opinion#I am very protective of Elain#she is a sweetheart
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to not spoil it, they quietly killed off the ncr for absolutely no reason and made the BOS victors for some reason.
house is not dead, but for majority fucked over at the battle of the hoover dam. how it is not stated yet.
but you’re pretty much correct everything else, so real “let’s wipe the slate clean bullshit”.
Of course he lost the dam.
The NCR was the main force behind Hoover Dam's acquisition in the first place, wrenching it out from under Caesar at the last second when Hanlon and the Rangers pulled their hail mary.
Without the Bear of the West, the Three Families probably defected into Caesar or fell to the Legion or just straight up deserted House once they realized a couple hundred tanks on tricycles would never be able to stand up to the Several Thousand Trained Berserkers that make up Caesar's Legion by year 2277.
I'm just curious as to what the Tin Can Buffoons will do to him when they find him. Or if he's made contact with Boston yet as his own last stand hail mary, though that part's purely wishful thinking.
#honest comrade i'm sittin' here coming up with all the ways i can improve on my own aus and crossovers#simply by observing this highway pileup#and being all like 'huh well if they can do that–'#of course most fan-creationists aren't trying to impose new cannons on everybody else#and regardless of whether or not it's entertaining that doesn't make it right#to basically make it a precedent to say:#“YO NERDS! SEE THIS THING THAT YOU LIKE?#“WE FUCK YOU WE'RE GONNA TURN INTO A PISSASS SHAMBLER OF WHAT YOU LOVED ABOUT IT#“BECAUSE WE LIKE MONEY AND MAKING PEOPLE FIGHT EACH OTHER ON THE INTERNET”#“AND YOU'RE NEVER GOING TO SEE THIS THING THAT YOU LOVE EVER BE HONORED BY US EVER AGAIN HAHA FUCKING LOSERS—”#i mean what does that say about media and the industry around it as a whole?#that it doesn't care about its consumers so long as it's progressing?#anyway this is getting rambly#to the people who like the show: good for you there's something nice for you to tune into on your one day off#but me well i go to an art-film school#i get to see how this warped perception of how the audience will receive our art#(—a perception fostered by bigwigs with marketing degrees—)#effects the mindsets of the people responsible for my education and and also my peers#if the consumer consensus looks like 'oh these graphics look really good the game must be awesome!'#and the market research shows those games sell without any other facet of them being affected#then the industry is going to keep making beautiful but hollow games#sequels that don't care about their predecessor's lore to either continue or transform and improve upon it#sequels that get made into streaming serials of the same mindset#the idea that you can just throw away your previous audience because there will be new and “correct” people who will enjoy you stuff#is also a trend that i've noticed#for better or worse#and it truly is#a bit of a tragedy#fallout tv show spoilers
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Simon Riley was a man who was quiet in bed. Occasionally, you’d hear a soft groan, or a curse escape his lips as he buried himself further inside of you. But other than that he was relatively mute in the bedroom.
Tonight, you decided, would be different. You would do anything in your power to hear those sweet noises you just knew your husband could make.
He was above you, languidly and silently thrusting into you, save for a small grunt here or there. He was very much a man that liked to be in charge, liked to control the pace.
So to say he was surprised when you flipped both of you over, was an understatement. You hovered yourself over him, your soaked core practically dripping onto his cock.
Simon looked up at you with a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. “Well, this is a treat. You wanting to take charge, baby?”
You bit your lip softly as you got yourself comfortable, your fingers finding purchase on Simon’s chest. “Wanna make you feel good, Si.”
When you rammed yourself back down onto his thick length, Simon let out euphoric moan causing your walls to clench down around him. He sounded fucking heavenly, and you needed more of it.
“Need to hear you, Si, please.” You begged, your eyes fluttering shut as you continued your steady pace. You always loved this position, you loved when Simon let you be in control. You loved to be the one fucking him.
Simon gave you a wicked smile, his hands giving your hips a firm squeeze as he helped guide your hips. “That right, sweet girl? Does me making some noise make that pretty little pussy clench around me?”
You bit back a moan at his filthy words as your walls clenched around him once more, your nails digging crescents into Simon’s muscular chest. “P-please.”
“Go on then, love. Be a good girl and make me.” Simon was an absolute tease in the bedroom, but you fucking loved it.
Your hands found Simon’s, moving them up slowly so that they now rested on your breasts, his large hands completely encompassing each of them. The way he squeezed at the supple flesh had your wet walls closing down around his length, practically holding it in a vice grip.
Simon truly wanted to tease you further, he loved riling you up to the point where you’d get that cute pout he’d loved so damn much- but the way you looked fucking yourself stupid on his cock, mixed with the way your pussy felt just so fucking good clenched around him, he lost all his willpower.
“Fuck, that’s my girl. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Simon groaned, his pretty scarred lips falling open, his brow furrowing slightly. A string of moans left his mouth as you dug your nails further into his chest, the movement of your hips growing frenzied as you chased your high. “So good for me.”
Simon no longer bit back his moans, no longer held in his soft cries of pleasure, he became a grunting, groaning mess beneath you. The pleasure for him was overwhelming, between the way you took charge, the way you clenched around him and the way you yourself sounded? He was fucking ruined.
And you fucking loved it.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley imagine#cod imagine#mw2 imagine#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#female reader
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could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴
▷ Delicate
Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k
A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]
★ Nanami Kento
While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.
He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.
You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.
When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.
It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.
Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.
Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.
You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.
Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.
"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.
Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.
You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."
His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"
"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.
Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."
"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"
His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."
That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.
"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."
"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"
"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.
You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.
Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.
"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.
You smile, "Weak?"
"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.
The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.
Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.
Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.
His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.
Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.
Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.
"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."
He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.
You hum, "I suppose."
And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.
Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.
His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.
Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.
You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.
"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.
His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.
With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.
"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.
You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"
"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.
You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.
Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.
Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.
You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.
Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.
"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.
You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."
Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.
Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.
His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.
Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.
"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"
His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.
Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"
"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."
There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.
And maybe one day you will.
But tonight?
Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.
★ Choso Kamo
You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.
You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.
Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.
And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.
Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.
Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.
That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.
Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."
You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.
Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.
You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.
And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.
Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.
He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.
"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.
His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.
God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.
His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.
It was nasty but... he liked it that way.
"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.
Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.
But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.
"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.
Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"
His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.
Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.
And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.
Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.
★ Ino Takuma
Is this even surprising?
Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.
And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.
So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.
Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.
So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.
Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.
He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.
Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.
"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.
"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.
He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.
You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."
Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.
Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.
He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."
You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.
He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.
A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."
"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.
"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.
Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.
"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.
"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."
Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"
Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.
There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?
Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.
Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.
He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.
Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.
"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."
"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.
Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.
You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?
It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?
Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-
Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.
Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."
"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.
Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.
You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."
"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"
"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.
Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.
Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.
It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.
Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.
There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.
It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.
Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.
But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.
You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.
Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.
And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."
#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#choso x reader#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo x reader#smut fic#jjk smut#choso smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you smut#anime smut#ino takuma#ino takuma smut#ino takuma jjk#ino x reader#ino x you#takuma ino x reader#takuma ino smut#takuma ino#jjksmut#jjk ino#jjk takuma#jjk ino takuma#nanami smut
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forever?
pairing: mob!bucky x reader
summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.
warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!
a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling
two months out of forever.
two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.
in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents.
the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place.
you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely.
on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be.
they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.
so far, he’s been the opposite.
for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady.
because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light.
but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much.
the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.
the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.
you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.
those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…
you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life.
peace.
a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together.
but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door.
“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe.
“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”
you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”
“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight.
-
the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting.
you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls.
you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.
“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile.
“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”
“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”
you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline.
you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun.
luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting.
t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you.
the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway.
“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men.
“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”
as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips.
“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates.
in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned.
you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes.
you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with.
you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often.
you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip.
“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be.
“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.
“i don’t-i’ve got it…”
“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.
“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband.
“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”
then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins.
“i think he might mind.”
you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away.
his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.
“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.
your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you?
you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this.
your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.
and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think.
you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted.
“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly.
“but the dish-”
“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.”
“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.
he won’t hurt you.
he has to protect his image.
you’ve embarrassed him.
you’re his wife.
you’re his business deal.
you’ve humiliated him.
he’ll hurt you.
you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident.
your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth.
and then there was a knock at the door.
your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting.
he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements.
“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.
automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.
“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft.
you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was.
“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”
“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again.
“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.”
“you don’t have to-”
“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.
you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you.
how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing…
“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.
“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.
“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed.
sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point.
but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes angst#bucky x reader#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#marvel#sargeant barnes#sargeant bucky barnes#bucky#bucky barnes hurt/comfort#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes whump#bucky x fem!reader#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#bucky x y/n#winter soldier#marvel au#bucky barnes au#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes#mob!bucky x reader#mob!bucky fanfic
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Tumblr Girls, M. Sturniolo
Summary: Matt can't help but to visit his favorite fuck buddy on tour, who just can't help but to tease him with her Tumblr posts. Songfic loosely based off of "Tumblr Girls" by G-Eazy<3
Pairing: Matt x feminine and influencer!reader
Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, marking, bondage, friends with benefits, fingering, oral (f), dom!Matt, choking, intoxicated sex (alcohol), dirty talk, belly bulge, no aftercare but fluffish (?) ending (i do not condone any of this irl!! it is *fiction*)
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: Get your holy water ready girlies...
Ever since you were a little girl, you had been enamored by the idea of being famous. Something about the life called to you, whether that be walking down the street and people knowing you, or simply realizing that you were having an impact on someone, somewhere’s life. Fortunately, you had grown up in the age of the Internet, allowing you to truly harness what you had wanted to do for so long. You loved having creative freedom, and you loved making a persona that was truly you.
You had been making YouTube videos, doing a variety of Instagram influencing, and posting carefully crafted aesthetic photos to Tumblr ever since middle school. Whereas a lot of the girls had moved out of their Tumblr influencer phase, you never really had. You still loved the dark, “grunge” aesthetic of it to this, and had turned your account into a more mature, X-rated theme of what it once had been. You loved doing social media as your full time job for a variety of reasons, from the freedom it gave you to the opportunities.
Perhaps your biggest “opportunity” was your fellow influencer and YouTuber, Matt. Your relationship with Matt was…complicated, to say the least. As much as you were a wholesome, loving duo on camera, you were filled with an almost primal need for each other off of it too. You and Matt had never discussed a true, established relationship, mostly because you were both so young and so busy, and the rough, hard fucking in itself was enough to satisfy the needs in both of your lives.
Your careers had consumed both of you as of late, dragging Matt all over the country for the Versus tour, and leaving you back in LA with a variety of brand deals to film and photo shoots to arrange. There was one in particular that you were heavily looking forward to, mostly because you knew that it would drag Matt back to you, unable to help himself. In a fateful turn of events, you had been emailed about a Calvin Klein intimates shoot that would just so happen to drop on the day Matt was back in LA for a show. In an effort to bring back the Tumblr renaissance and the hold Calvin Klein had had during those days, you had insisted that the photos be posted to Tumblr before any other social media platform.
Matt: i’m back in la tn
You: oh i know ;)
Matt: ??? huh
You: no reason. just focus on winning tonight :)
You smiled to yourself as you closed your text messages out and migrated over to your photo gallery. Your manager had sent you the photos of the shoot to be posted this evening, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t planning on fucking with Matt’s head using them. You had missed your fuck buddy, after all. The late night phone sex wasn’t the same as him in your bed, mumbling in your ear about how well you were taking it.
The photos from the shoot were of you in a gray Calvin Klein bralette with a matching thong. The photos had been toned with a sepia overlay, highlighting the curves of your breasts and hips. Your hair fell back against your shoulders gracefully as your doe eyes stared up at the camera. The shots were nothing short of sexy, making you imagine how Matt would react when he got the post notification. Maybe he would be sitting backstage, getting ready to go on and trying to hide his growing boner both from his brothers and the fans, which only made you smile more.
You and Matt continued to text back and forth for a while, until you suddenly stopped responding. This was part of your game with each other; to make the yearning so painful that it just made the sex more passionate. Once you saw that it had hit the fifteen minute mark until Matt was supposed to appear on stage, you hit ‘post’ on the Tumblr draft of your photos that you had planned out earlier in the day. The caption, come over 💋, was directly aimed at Matt, but no one else needed to know that. Sure enough, less than one minute later, you received a text from the brunette that had your heart racing and your thighs clenching.
Matt: what the fuck, y/n?
You smiled as you typed out your own message, imagining Matt biting his lip and trying to conceal the growing tent in his pants as he studied the photos.
You: what?
Matt: you know what
You: no i don’t
Matt: that fucking post
You: it’s part of my job, matt. quit being ridiculous. have you not heard about tumblr girls making a comeback?
Matt: watch it. i’m coming over and fucking that pretty pussy good tonight.
You knew what your and Matt’s usual routine was, so you grabbed another cup from the cabinet and the bottle of whiskey, migrating over to the gray couch in your living room. You didn’t bother waiting for the brunette to start drinking. Matt had a key to your apartment and would definitely make himself known when he arrived. You slowly sipped at the amber liquid, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks and in between your thighs as you thought about Matt and how much you had missed the feeling of his skin on yours.
Sure enough, the door swung open with a loud bang a few minutes later. In came Matt, hair disheveled and still in his blue Matthew jersey. His growing erection was obvious as he flopped onto the couch, lips immediately crashing into your own. Matt’s hands were all over you as you devoured each other; in your hair, running across your hips, grabbing your ass.
“Fuck, baby. I missed you.” he panted, leaning back against the couch as you passed him a drink.
“I missed you, Matt,” You smiled softly, tucking one of his curls behind his ear. “How has tour been?”
Matt took a large swig of whiskey, before placing the cup on the coffee table. “Good. But not as good as you looked in those goddamn pictures.” he practically moaned.
“I noticed you have my post notifications on,” You teased, despite blushing at his words. “Catching feelings, Matthew?”
Matt rubbed your bare thigh, scooting closer to you so that he could suckle on the sweet spot behind your ear. “Do you know how hard it was?” he asked, leaving a hickey. “To have to go out on stage with my brothers and act normal when all I could think about were your tits and how I want to pound that little cunt to pieces? Huh?”
You whined as Matt continued to trail hickeys down your neck, mumbling things like “missed you so bad” and “gonna fuck you so hard” after each one. You two fell back against the soft cushions of the couch, Matt holding you down by the hips as his lips caressed your neck, the curve of your collarbone, and the dip of your breasts. You went to reach for Matt’s ringed fingers, only for him to smack your hand away.
“No,” Matt said harshly, moving one hand from your hip to your throat. “Tell me how fuckin’ bad you want it first,” he growled, squeezing your throat just enough to make the air catch in your lungs. “Tell me you wanna get off on my fingers like a goddamn bitch in heat.”
You gasped for air as Matt continued to squeeze, your arousal thumping through your veins. “P…please,” You whispered, eyes wide with lust as he continued to choke you just enough to get you going, but not enough to actually hurt you. “Need your fingers.” You whined, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Good girl.” Matt hummed, alcohol hot on his breath as he moved his hands from your throat to practically rip your gray panties off.
With your friends with benefits arrangement, there was no time for gentle caressing or sweet nothings. Matt began to finger you roughly, the cool metal of his rings brushing against your slick folds as he rubbed his thumb across your clit at a dizzying pace. He wasn’t stopping there, either. Matt immediately thrust his middle and ring finger inside of you, pulling you closer to him. It had only been a few minutes, and the ache to orgasm was already building in your lower stomach.
“Matt,” You wailed, nails gripping his back. “Oh my god, Matt,” Tears began to roll down your face as the brunette continued to pleasure you. The combination of his fingers inside of you, the friction on your clit, and the added sensation of his rings were clouding everything in a lustful haze. “Need to cum.” You sobbed.
“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think you’re comin’ on my fingers instead of tongue.” he chuckled roughly.
With that, Matt threw his head down and forced your thighs apart, burying his face in your pussy. He began to devour you like you were the last meal on earth and he was a starving man. His tongue ran across your slit and clit, before licking your hole. You had no choice but to let out little squeals and whimpers as pleasurable sensations attacked you from all angles. Matt ran the flat of his tongue across your clit and you lost it, sobbing as your hands found his hair.
“Matt, please,” You begged. “‘M gonna cum.”
Your fuck buddy just nodded, still enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You immediately took it as a sign to let go, releasing the tension that had been building in your stomach. You came all over Matt’s tongue, panting and breathing heavily as your body shook from the pure force of your orgasm. Matt pulled his head from between your thighs, licking his lips and fingers with a smirk, blue eyes hungrily grazing over your body that was still wrapped in the bra and flannel with your bare ass on display.
“You taste so goddamn good, you know that?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you panted.
You smiled as Matt pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, but it was clear that the brunette wasn’t done yet. Matt slowly pulled the red and black material from your shoulders, smiling with more than just happiness. He had an intention and you could see it in the way he was toying with the fabric, eyes lighting up with lust. Matt didn’t speak again until he had removed your Calvin Klein bra, leaving you completely exposed on the couch as he stared down at you.
“Hands.” he said.
It was one word, but the command held an authoritative aire that had you thrusting your wrists to meet Matt’s own. Matt knew you better than practically anyone, which meant he knew all of your dirty little fantasies. Knowing you had a thing for bondage, the brunette quickly and expertly bound your wrists together in the flannel, giving it a tight tug to make sure it was secure. Your breath hitched at the pure filth of everything, but all you knew was that this alone was making your legs clench with need for another climax.
Matt was straddling you on the couch, fully clothed, which just added to the dominance he had over you. You were completely naked and covered in blooming hickeys he had left earlier in the evening with your wrists bound together by a flannel. You truly looked like Matt’s little cumslut, but you couldn’t find the decency in you to care anymore. You just knew that you were at his mercy and that you needed him. Now.
The brunette could sense your urgency and decided to have a little ‘fun’ with you. Matt took his time removing his shirt, allowing you to bask in the glory of him shirtless, all tanned skin and tattoos, but completely unable to do anything about it other than whimper and let out breathy moans. He moved onto his jeans next, painstakingly undoing his belt and throwing his pants to the side. The boy left his boxers on for the time being, teasing you as he stroked his cock through the plaid fabric.
“Wish that was you, huh? Strokin’ my dick and makin’ me feel good?” Matt chuckled, moaning when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.
You whimpered and writhed against your bond. “Need you in me, Matt. Please.” You whined.
Finally, Matt slid his boxers off and tossed them to the side, allowing his erection to finally spring free. His dick was practically touching his stomach, making your mouth run dry with a mixture of excitement and nerves. After so long apart and without truly fucking, you had forgotten just how big he was. Matt climbed on top of you once more, rocking his hips back and forth on your own without actually riding you.
“Beg for it. Tell me how much you love my cock, baby girl.” Matt groaned at the friction of your skin against his own, becoming harder by the second.
“I need you inside me. Need your dick, Matt.” You whimpered, the teasing growing straight to your nipples and cunt, making you almost ache with arousal.
“That’s right. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Without another word, Matt slammed into you, making you take him to the hilt. You let out an involuntary scream at the feeling of suddenly being so full, your back arching against the couch cushions. The feeling of him inside you, bare and hard, was enough to push you to the brink of orgasm. Your second always came faster than your first, and right now was no exception. Matt was riding you at an ungodly pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust as he straddled you.
“Oh my god, baby,” Matt moaned loudly. “I missed your wet little pussy. So tight, just for me.”
The filthiness of his speaking, combined with your bonds and the feeling of him fucking you was pushing you over the edge. You wanted to tangle your hands in Matt’s hair or run your nails down his back, but instead you were unable to do anything that wasn’t taking his fucking like a slut. Matt pressed down on the bulge in your stomach from being balls deep, a smirk on his face.
“You feel that, baby? Feel you takin’ me like the cockslut you are?” he chuckled.
You whined as tears rolled down your face, bucking his hips up to meet his own. “Matt, I…I–need to, please.” You wailed, unable to form coherent sentences in your intoxicated and lustful state.
“You gonna cum? Gonna make me feel appreciated?” Matt’s blue eyes scanned your face, enjoying the view that was you under him, tied up and sobbing.
“Mhm!” You sobbed.
“Then prove it.” he sneered, pressing on your stomach roughly again.
You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let your climax take over, your cunt clenching against Matt’s cock. This caused the brunette to let out a string of curses as you came down from your high, your entire body shaking. He knew he was playing a risky game here, even though you were on the pill, but Matt just loved fucking you bare more than anything in the world. The brunette quickly pulled out, and before you knew it, your stomach was covered in thick and warm, white ropes of Matt’s cum.
He laid down beside you on the couch, panting heavily as you both came down from your shared highs. Once your breathing had returned to semi normal, Matt kissed you roughly and undid your bonds, before rolling off the couch. Without another word, he pulled his clothes on, straightening his hair. Your fuck buddy kissed your forehead as he busied himself around your apartment, cleaning up the whiskey and cups and retrieving a warm washcloth to wipe down your body with.
Once everything had been done, Matt tucked you in with a blanket, kissing your forehead. “I gotta go. We’re driving up to San Francisco tonight and I told Nick and Chris I would be back by two. I’ll see ya once the tour is over, yeah?”
You smiled sleepily as Matt slipped out your front door and into the night. Whereas you would’ve loved for the brunette to stay the night, you knew that you both had jobs to do and that right now, you were just fuck buddies and that was that. But as you drifted off to sleep, a warm feeling spread through your tummy that you and Matt wouldn’t stay “just friends” for long.
tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @runasvengence
note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3
#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x y/n#matt sturniolo edit#matthew sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo imagine#matthew bernard sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo imagines#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader
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tw - implied non/con, mentions of physical/psychological abuse, obsessive behavior, delusional thoughts, and kidnapping.
Alhaitham is strict.
He's a man of science. He believes that obedience is something that has to be trained, not taught, and that the only way to properly train any thinking, breathing creature is through the continuous and uniform use of punishment to discourage undesired behavior and with-holding of reward until desired behavior is not only seen, but repeated. His rules are firm and unchanging, and when he catches you, say, hoarding mora underneath a lose floorboard or trying to mail a letter of poorly coded pleas for help to a former peer, he feels no guilt as he wrestles you over his knee and delivers a strike for each spare coin he found in your little collection, each word you wasted on someone other than your loving caretaker. He values your intelligence, and that's why he knows you can live up to his suffocating, but not particularly high expectations. He's strict, but really, it's for your own good.
Kaveh is soft.
As soft as crushed velvet and flower petals and down-stuffed pillows. As soft as crumpled silk and grass on a warm day and his heart, whenever you thread your fingers through his and ask so prettily for him to let you go. His greatest in the world is to make you happy, and it pains him to know that, so long as he continues to be so selfish with your affection, you won't be. He'd do anything for you - bring you gems and flowers from each distant corner of the world, dedicate himself entirely to your every whim and desire, carve his own heart from his chest and lay it at your feet - but he knows you truly want is out of his reach. Kaveh is soft - soft enough that, no matter how much it hurts him to see you suffering, he knows the pain of letting you go would destroy him entirely.
Cyno is sweet.
Even if he will admit to taking a certain amount of satisfaction bringing the cruel blade of justice down on those who've earned it most, he's not a sadist, and you've done little in your life to deserve anyone's cruelty. When he does have to hurt you, it's done with remorse, and when he has no reason to, he does not often pretend he has any desire to find one. His affection is silent, but sickeningly apparent. It's expressed through rose blossoms left on your bedside table, trinkets that made him think of you tucked into the pockets of your clothes, the phantom of his lips against your neck - never quite making contact but never drifting away, either. He holds you when you cry, despite being the reason for your distress, and when you beg him for space, he never seems to go very far. He's sweet, even if the tenderness of his love is lost on you.
Tighnari is subtle.
He knows who he is. He knows how he feels about you. He knows that, if he were to chain you up in his hut and do every terrible thing he's imagined, it'd be less than a full hour until you were liberated from his loving embrace and his head was liberated from his shoulders. He has to be more careful than that, more discrete, even if it means spending the better part of one of his few days off piecing together a mix of herbs and serums tasteless enough to be slipped into water and strong enough to ensure you won't wake up the first time he drives his fangs into your skin. Even his more daring moments are limited to a hand ghosted over the small of your back, a strange insistence that he should be the one to look after you when your strange, unnamable illness resurfaces and you inevitably need a professional's time and care. He's subtle - so much so that even you won't know just much he's willing to do to love you.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#genshin impact#genshin impact imagines#yandere genshin impact#genshin x reader#yandere alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#yandere kaveh#kaveh x reader#yandere cyno#cyno x reader#yandere tighnari#tighnari x reader
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Sanji in his little "Kiss the Cook" apron.
Is it romantic? Starting as a joke with kisses on the cheek and temple until the two of you end up full on making out?
Or is it platonic? With the straw hats giving him little kisses in passing, starting with Luffy and spreading through the crew until even Zoro relents? Because what's better than kissing the homies goodnight?
You tell me snail, what's the move?
-♡♡ lots of love
"porque no los dos?"
Kiss the Cook
Masterlist here
Word Count: 1,700+
Synopsis: Sanji was gifted an apron from Nami after returning back from town. Every member of the crew aside from Zoro and you have followed the embroidered instructions written on his chest, and he wasn't happy about the lack of kisses from you. You finally relent and give him what he wants.
Themes: platonic kisses, fluff, implied f!reader - but can be read as gn!reader, sanji has feelings for you, you have unspoken feelings for sanji, idiots in love, Sanji has lost that 'line-cook rizz'.
Notes: This has been in my ask box for less than a day. I don't know what it is about you, anon. As soon as I see those two little hearts I'm just overtaken by something. I blame the "kisses". @chikariart on twitter.
Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @indydonuts @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @writingmysanity
“Could these onions misbehave any more?” the chef grumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth and clamping hard down on his cigarette, “C’mon, now. What have I gotta do to get your layers off? Talk dirty to you?” He used the steel edge of his knife to attempt to pry the brown outer layer away from its fleshy underside with shaking hands.
Sanji’s nerves were ignited, his whole composure on edge and waiting for the next intrusion in his kitchen and potential distraction from his work.
When Nami brought the frilly pink apron his way, he was initially ecstatic at the notion he was thought of enough to be given a little gift. But as the red embroidery with white stitched hearts expressed consent for his body to be given sweet kisses at all times, he was truly alert. With an assault of affection from all who approached him each time he adorned the fabric in its wake, he was finding it difficult to focus on each mundane kitchen task.
In this case, peeling onions was the bane of his existence. As the flickered peel almost withdrew from the circular bulb, it split and only chipped off a small amount of the outer layer.
Sanji loved kisses, adored kisses: all the cheek, forehead and shoulder kisses he'd received from the crew. Cheeky Nami kisses, soft Robin kisses, and nibbled toothy kisses from Chopper were his favorites.
He was less enthusiastic about hulking, wet kisses from Franky, nor the hungry cheek kisses from Luffy which was used to depict the state of his appetite. Usopp was the middle ground, his kisses were a tease on his shoulder with a rough clap and a gaggle of laughter immediately thereafter.
Brook’s kisses were actually quite funny to the blonde cook. As the skeleton man had no lips to kiss with, he resigned himself to the notion of simply walking past him, and taunting him with a melodic hum of the words: “kiss,” “kisses,” or an emphatic “mwah,” as he did so.
Of the members of the remaining crew, he was happy that the stinky moss-head kept his lips to himself. There was no way he would allow him the closer proximity to his body without starting a sparring match. He was, however, not so happy that you were yet to place your lips sweetly on the apple of his cheek.
Sanji adored you, wanted to treat you with the utmost respect and dote on you alongside the other members of the crew. You were special to him, and he rationalized that his small crush was why he was craving a scrap of your attention so much. As he continued cursing at the onions, he heard a soft tap on the doorway to the kitchen.
“Need help, cook?” Sanji looked up, noticing you leaning on the side of the door. He smiled softly at you, biting back his smile and gulping his insecurity.
“Oh, beautiful angel,” he managed to turn away from the counter and look out the window as he resumed his battle with the onions, “I'm all good here, don't you worry yourself. Go relax with the others.” You clicked your tongue and stepped closer to the bench and stood a few feet away from the blonde cook.
Noticing his posture, you knit your brows in puzzlement. He was twitching while he was going about his peeling, finally managing to coax the shell away from the exterior and sigh in relief. His cheeks were tinted a soft shade of pastel pink, his nose the most darkened by the blushy hue.
Looking down, the frilly pink apron with ‘Kiss the Cook,’ held the final piece of information as to his nervous composure. You smiled softly at him, looking to where his hands skillfully minced the onions and threw them into a scorching pot with molten butter and aromatic herbs.
He rinsed his hands in the sink, lathering them with soapy froth and soaking the suds with glassy water. The scent from the pot of sweetened onions with rosemary, sage and thyme had your mouth salivating in anticipation of what was to come.
“What's cooking, good looking?” you smiled at him softly, gesturing with your chin to the pot on the stove. He froze up, his ears tinting darker with the shade of pink.
“J-Just a mirepoix,” he stuttered out, prompting you to shake your head and offer him a soft laugh in response. Taking the extinguished cigarette out of his lips, he placed the butt in the bin beneath the sink.
Noticing the tension in his body, you reach up and place a hand on his shoulder to urge him to turn to face you. He meets his gray orbs with yours, a sheepish look on his face as you gaze up into his eyes.
“You've been off the line for too long, Sanji,” you scrunch your nose up playfully at him, “Lost that flirtatious kitchen charisma and banter, blushing like a bride at the most simple of compliments. What's going on with you?” You graze your fingers along his jaw, leaving a rising layer of goose flesh in its wake.
“I-It’s-...” Sanji gulped his nerves back, hanging his head with a soft laugh and subtle shake in response, “...It's this stupid apron.” You look down at the apron with a smirk.
“What about the ‘stupid apron’, Sanji?” you ask with a raised brow before gazing back into his eyes, “Not your color?” He continued smiling and shaking his head at you before looking up through his eyelashes into your questioning and puzzled eyes.
“To be honest with you,” he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth to halt his words from sounding too eager, “I actually love it. Even though it started as a joke, it has actually made a big difference the way I’ve been feeling lately.” He shrugged, turning his eyes back to the ground and snickering, “Stupid, right?”
Cupping his face, you elevate his head and hum at him in deep contemplation.
“Not stupid,” you shrug at him, darting your eyes between his and flickering your gaze down to his lips, “Not stupid at all.” His breath hitched in his throat, eyes beginning to fill with hope as you drew your face ever closer to his.
Closing his eyes, he parted his lips and anticipated feeling yours brush with them. His heart beat in his throat, his ears hearing that drum of hope ringing with his elevated pulse. As he drew his face closer still, the balloon of anticipation was instantly deflated as he felt your lips brush with the apple of his cheek and linger for less than a single second.
As you withdrew from his cheek, Sanji was left feeling like a complete idiot. He stared vacantly, directly ahead with unblinking eyes and his ego completely deflated. His heart fizzled out like a flame being snuffed by a wet blanket.
Looking at his vacant expression and the soft blush on his cheeks, you couldn’t help yourself. A single, timid kiss was not enough of an indulgence to grant to the blonde cook, in your opinion. You leaned forward once more, pressing a soft kiss on his angular jaw before pressing another on his neck above his pulse and beneath his ear lobe.
Sanji’s breath hitched, his hands opening and closing in clenched fists and shaking extensions. Gasping, he leant his head to the side and whimpered at the soft touches you were pressing into his skin. His pulse quickened, his breath hitched, and his eyes clenched tightly shut as he argued with himself where to place his hands on you.
Trailing your lips down to his collarbone, you pressed a sweet and gentle kiss against the bone before clamping your teeth down onto the flesh. Sanji mewled in pleasure at the attention, throwing his head back and drawing up his forearm to his face to catch the damp blood from exiting his nose. His head was dizzy, his lips parting and whining as he felt your tongue swirl around the soft bite to his collar.
Pulling away from him, you sucked your lips into your mouth and bit-back your smile at his reaction. He slowly drew his eyes down to meet yours, the irises eclipsed by blown pupils and his desire. Giggling at him, you tilted your head to the side and clasped your hands behind your back and rocked on your feet.
Sanji surged his body forward, claiming your cheeks beneath his hands and carding his fingers through your hair the moment his lips descended onto yours. You squeaked in response, immediately placing your hands on Sanji’s hips as he pinned you against the sink with his hips. His kisses were needy, desperate and full of desire.
As he rotated his chin to deepen the oscillation, you reached up to his shoulder and tapped it twice while gasping in his mouth. He tugged himself away, looking down at you in shock with wide eyes and panting breath.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he began to hastily relay his apologies, “I didn’t mean to do that, truly. The other kisses I get from the crew are usually a little more hasty and less indulgent. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, honest-.”
“-Sanji,” you laugh at him, looking up through half-hooded lashes and brushing your nose with his, “Your mirepoix is going to burn.”
Immediately, Sanji broke himself away from you and stomped over to the large pot. He grumbled as he stirred the aromatics with a wooden spoon, growling under his breath, “This stupid apron has been nothing but a complete distraction.” You giggled at him as he aggressively began stirring at the pot to salvage the caramelizing vegetables.
“That’s it,” he tore the apron away from his chest and cast it to the side, “No more kisses in the kitchen. I refuse to have good food spoil because I’ve been getting distracted by soft kisses… sweet kisses…” he trailed off, fishing around in his pocket for a cigarette after he rotated the vegetables within the butter.
Shaking your head, you go and retrieve the apron from where he cast it aside and hung it over the kitchen table. Eyeing him over mischievously, you walk over to him and hold his hips firmly from behind and place one more soft kiss between his shoulder blades.
“Come find me when you want to put on that stupid apron again, hm?” you utter, releasing his hips and making your way over to the kitchen doorway and out of the room with haste.
Sanji shook his head with a warm smile and a dark blush. Looking to where you had just left, he sighed deeply and began to focus solely on the meal preparation with no more cause for distraction.
#one piece#x reader#sanji#black leg sanji#sanji x reader#op sanji#black leg sanji x reader#kiss the cook#ask snail#snail answers#anon. what are you doing to me?#I love your requests#they're so much fun to write#straw hats#straw hat sanji#straw hat pirates#one piece x reader
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Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse comes out later today so I wanted to write a post reflecting on my journey and experience working on this movie. So many people have supported me through this and I am so thankful to each and every one of you!
Text version of this post under the cut:
Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse comes out tonight. It feels really weird to be typing that out right now. I worked on the movie as a visdev artist for the last 2.5 years, from 2020 to 2023. Long post incoming.
There are a lot of reasons why I'd consider this film to be one of the most ambitious animated films to ever be made. As artists, we were asked to push ourselves far beyond our comfort zones and do things that had never been done before in animation.
Every time we reached a point where most people would say "this must possibly be as creative and weird as it gets," our entire team of artists and animators would smash right through the ceiling. The driving direction for the visuals of the film was to push the limits of every single frame; to challenge audience expectations and make something truly original.
The best thing about this film was that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie. The hardest thing about this film was also that there wasn't a single boring day working on this movie.
There were times while working on this where the imposter syndrome hit me hard. This was my first big movie, and what a hell of a first movie to get thrust into.
I came in only a few years out of school with absolutely no idea what the hell I was doing. I constantly feared that someone had made a mistake in bringing me onto this film, and I was going to let everyone down. There was a solid chunk of those 2.5 years where I wasn't sure if animation was the right path for me.
If there's anything I could tell my past self it would be this: there are so many people who love you and believe in you. There will be a time when you get to stand on the other side of it, look back on everything and see how far you came.
I'm still working on self-acceptance every day (it will be a lifelong struggle, I'm sure), but I'm glad I didn't give up on myself. I'm proud of myself and my contributions to this film, and I'm certain that this movie will continue to change and shape the animation landscape just as the first one did. That's truly a special feeling to have been a part of. I am so incredibly grateful to every single person who helped me along this journey.
Here come the thanks:
To the ENTIRE visdev & art crew- it's been an honor getting to work alongside each and every one of you. My jaw is literally still on the floor from seeing your incredible talent day after day.
I want to thank Tiffany and Felicia especially for being there for me through tough times- I admire and respect you both so much as artists, and even better than that, my life is greatly enriched for being able to call you my friends.
Thank you Patrick and Dean for taking chances on me, teaching me so much about art and what I'm capable of, and encouraging me along the way. To Aymeric, your art is one of the reasons I initially became interested in animation and you have been one of the kindest & most empathetic mentors I could ever have asked for.
I want to thank my wonderful parents for believing in me always and raising me into the person I am today: everything I do in life is to make you proud. To my brother Andrew who is perpetually awake at 3 AM when I need someone to talk to- thank you for always picking up the phone and making me laugh.
And finally to my partner Luke for making me grilled cheeses on all of the difficult days, for never getting sick of me even when all I would ever talk about was work, and for patiently and steadfastly loving me throughout this entire thing. I don't think I could've done it without you.
Starting tomorrow I will begin posting and sharing some of the art I made for this movie; I'm looking forward to sharing some of my personal favorites with you. I hope each and every one of you enjoys Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse when it hits theaters later today!
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CONSUME ━ imagine!
suna rintarou x fem!reader
summary: suna rintarou was hard to love, you knew this from the beginning. but when you overhear him admitting how he truly felt about you, it hurt to decide whether to let him go, or let your love for him continuously consume you.
genre: hurt/comfort
wc: 6.2k
tags: this is the longest imagine that i’ve ever written 😭 it was a pain in the ass to write but i hope you guys like it :)
Sometimes, you think it’s hard to love Suna.
Suna is calculating and quiet, the reasons exactly why you find it difficult to continuously pine for him. Though, you already knew he was going to act like this. You’ve gone to school with Suna since elementary, and have even lived in the same neighbourhood since childhood, but you don’t think he knows that.
The thing is, you know Suna, but you don’t think he knows you. Every morning since you were six years old, you’ve seen him make his way to school, but you’ve never had the courage to walk up to him and say ‘hi’. For years, the only parts of Suna that you were able to truly admire were his back and his hair, from behind. The both of you have never been in the same friend group, class, or extra-curricular activity, until your second-year of high school.
You precisely remember the moment you stepped into the gymnasium to introduce yourself as the new manager of the team. It was a rainy day and you were excited, albeit, a little nervous, but irregardless, excited because you know and love volleyball. The sport connected with some of your childhood memories, as you recall playing it with your older brother. Too bad your physical skills weren’t up to par with the school’s expectations, or else you would’ve been on the team. Their loss though, because you found your strategy and knowledge of the sport to be your strongest feature as a player.
As a result of the girl’s team already having a manager, the coach recommended you to try signing up for the role of manager for the boy’s team. Now, you didn’t mind being around boys. Your older brother was enough for you to build up the courage against the challenge that is the hygiene and personality, or well, lack thereof, of boys.
However, the courage built over the years was not enough to stop your surprise at seeing none other than Suna Rintarou, from the front.
He looked completely different from what you remember him looking like. For some reason, you still had the young image of Suna in your head. The Suna you remember had puffy cheeks and neat hair, but this new Suna, was mature, older, and way more handsome. His cheeks thinned out and highlighted a sharp jawline that made his face look so clean-cut, unlike his hair that was messy and all over the place. But, if anything, you think that you prefer this Suna.
Because, God, it made him so much more attractive.
Now, it’s been about three months since you’ve become manager, and in those three months, you’ve tried to show Suna just how much you love him. The years of no talking and never meeting each other were all building up for you, and you just wanted to show him all of the care and affection you’ve held for him over the years.
You’ve cooked bento boxes and given them to him, you’ve filled his water bottle with the expensive electrolytes from the convenience store ten minutes away from the school before every practice, and who couldn’t forget, you make sure that his towel was clean and warm beside his gym bag, so that he wouldn’t use the same one for weeks until it reeked. Your affection was clearly shown through your actions and you prayed to the heavens that he would just notice you. Maybe say a ‘thank you’ or even a little head pat, you really don’t care, just some recognition would make you feel rewarded after all the hard work you’ve done for him.
But, the bento boxes were returned to you either by, Atsumu or Osamu, Suna drank the expensive electrolyte water, however, he seemed to not notice that it was you who put all the thought and care behind the action, and his towel was always just thrown to the side alongside the other towels. Even though the towel you prepped was a personal one from home that had your initials hand sewn in the corner. You thought that at one point he would’ve acknowledged you, but the gratefulness never came.
It didn’t matter though. Because you knew in your heart that you loved Suna Rintarou, and there was nothing that could change that. Even if you did all the sincere actions for him until the both of you graduated and he never noticed you, just knowing that he at least saw the bento box, the water bottle, and your towel, was enough to put a smile on your face. You would show Suna that you love him, ten times over.
“Y/N! Earth to Y/N!” Your head snaps over to your right, seeing the coach look at you with concern. Embarrassed that he caught you in your daily Suna trance, your cheeks heats up and you push yourself to your feet.
“Coach!”
“I thought you would never hear me. Listen, I don’t know what’s taking all your attention away, but can you please head down to the locker room and tell the boys that they need to make their way over here. The drill we spoke about yesterday is a bit complicated, so I would like to get started as soon as possible.” Nodding, you bow and begin to make your way over to the club room.
Your heart begins to speed up a bit, as the thought of seeing Suna shirtless makes your chest burn and your face hot. By all means, you are not a pervert! But just seeing him with all his muscles in the bright fluorescent light of the locker room looked like a cover of a sports magazine.
Suna Rintarou makes you feel so nervous. Unfortunately, you find yourself relishing in the minimal acknowledgement that he gives you, thriving off of the fact that you were in a club that just allowed you to be around him. Maybe it was a sign from the heavens that you weren’t physically athletic, but strategically, which resulted in your application as Boys Volleyball team manager. You’d like to think that despite his ignorance, it was in both of your guys’ destinies to end up with another.
Maybe the both of you were the main characters of a drama, where, despite all the bumps in the plot, you will always find each other being drawn to one another. Yet again, that was all just your stupid imagination, but one can dream, right?
Giggling to yourself, you were about to knock on the locker room door, before you heard loud voices through the small space between the door and the wall. It sounded like they were bickering with one another, and you begin to wonder if it’s Atsumu and Osamu fighting again, while everyone just stood around and observed. Normally, you would be the one to beg them to stop while Kita jumped in after you to pull them apart. But, now that you weren’t inside, you begin to push open the door at the possibility.
“...Y/N?” Your actions falter at the sound of your name.
‘Are they talking about me?’ Before you could do anything, you lean your ear in just to get a snippet of what they were talking about. You know what they say though, curiosity was what killed the cat.
“Come on Sunarin! You have to like Y/N! She’s so cute, and she cooks you all those bento boxes! If that isn’t girlfriend material, then I don’t know what is.” Hearing Atsumu praise you for your efforts made you smile, trying to hide it by covering your mouth with your hand.
“And, let’s not forget how she already likes you. C’mon Rintarou, we’ve seen her personally hand you your water bottle,” The voice you assume to be Ojiro teases, while everyone in the room laughs.
“Oh yeah!! I’ve seen those expensive electrolyte packets in her bag, man, how does it feel to receive such special treatment from Y/N?”
‘So my actions don’t go unnoticed.’ Your smile grows bigger, clutching your clipboard closer to your chest when feeling just how full your heart is with everyone’s recognition.
“Stop it guys.” Suna’s smooth voice finally enters the picture and you try to stop yourself from giggling out loud. “She’s our manager.”
“So?!? Man, that’s even better! You won’t have a girlfriend who doesn’t understand the importance of the sport. If anything, Y/N is more committed than you, maybe you will be the one competing for her attention against the club,” you hear smooching sounds and Atsumu speaks in a voice that tries to mock Suna’s, but did a terrible job.
“Y/N~ don’t forget all about me!! I love you Y/N~!” More kissing sounds can be heard, and everyone in the room laughs one more time.
The joy in your heart would’ve been extended, if it weren’t for the sudden aggravated scoff from Suna, and the slapping of a towel on bare skin. Atsumu yelps and the room suddenly dies down from the initial humorous atmosphere.
“Man, shut up. I don’t like Y/N. She’s alright, I guess.” a locker door slams shut, “But sometimes, she's just so... annoying. I don't know how much longer I can put up with it. And you know, after a while, it just comes off as desperate.”
‘Desperate? I’m not desperate.’ You weren’t keen on Suna noticing you. You just liked doing all those things for him, it showed you cared, and that he was at least deserving of some special treatment, because he was a very special person in your life.
“I feel bad for her,” he continues, “spending all that time doing shit for someone that doesn’t even like her. I can’t say anything though, cause she’s our manager and I don’t want the team to feel awkward. I guess I just have to suffer with her smothering me all the damn time.”
At that, you feel your once fluttering heart stop. You feel tears beginning to make their way to fall from your eyes, as your face begins to feel hot, but not in a blushing way. More like in a, you were about to sob out loud and the tears probably wouldn’t stop for a while, way.
You loved Suna. He didn’t have to love you back, the least you were asking for was for him to say ‘thank you’. But it appeared that your affection didn’t appear as a display of your love, but something that bothered him. Annoying him to the point of seeing your actions as suffocating. But that didn’t entirely bother you.
It was the fact that he didn’t even want to tell you to stop. He was going to live like that until high school was over, because you were the team’s manager, and it would be ‘awkward’. You begin to overthink.
What if you kept on going about cooking those bento boxes for him, filling his water up with electrolytes, and bringing a special towel from home, all warm and clean, without knowing what he actually thought of your displays of affection? You would’ve lived thinking that Suna somewhat appreciated it. Possibly having the idiotic thought that he was just shy, and maybe didn’t know how to exactly tell you that he liked you.
You are such a dumbass.
You begin to tremble, the pen that was once held up by your clipboard clattering to the ground and startling you. It brought you back to your situation, seeing the door still somewhat closed in front of you. Out of fear that they were going to see you and realise that you were eavesdropping, you ditch the pen and begin to run back to the gym.
You were going to tell the coach that you were feeling sick. You hope the teary eyes and flushed cheeks will do you justice, and he’ll send you home without any repercussions. But as of right now, nothing matters, all that did was the fact that you were annoying the boy you loved, and that your pillows were waiting to welcome your tears until tomorrow morning.
—
It’s been two days. Have you missed school for the past two days? Absolutely not. Suna wasn’t going to make you miss class, as much as you wanted to, you know that if you were going to skip, the school will inform your parents, and that last thing you want is your parents to get involved.
It’s just been two days since you’ve been to volleyball practice. You haven’t been missing your duties at all though. Yes, you’ve been in contact with the coach and Kita, with them informing you on the notes of the team and each player’s performance. The reason for that being, some coaches from Tokyo were planning to head down to Hyogo for a volleyball camp. The team needs to know what they have to improve on, and unfortunately, though you felt as if you weren’t in the right state of mind, you had to fulfil your duties as a manager.
You’re not over Suna, and to be honest, you don’t think you ever will be. He’s been such a constant force in your life, that a lifetime without his presence captivating your mind felt impossible to even conjure. You love Suna Rintarou, but you guess you would just have to hold it inside until the both of you go your separate ways. Maybe then you’ll get over him, but the possibility seemed unlikely.
You just have to give up expecting the response to your love that you’ve been hoping for your entire life.
Checking the cafeteria and seeing if you had enough food supply for three volleyball teams, their respective coaches, and their managers. It seemed like a chore to do all on your own, and it was. But you committed to being the team manager. Suna wasn’t going to change that whether he liked it or not.
“Y/N, the Tokyo teams will be arriving soon. Coach says you need to head to the front and help him with dorm placement.” Sighing and nodding, you get up from your squatting position from the bottom shelf. Kita notices your negative mood, by being the observant asshole that he is. As you were about to exit out the only doorway, he grabs your forearm, holding you back from actually leaving. His sudden touch surprised you, resulting in you jolting back. “I’ve been meaning to ask, are you okay?”
His concern falters your thoughts and movements. In all the time that you’ve been manager of the volleyball team, Kita has never really shown you that much care for how you felt. It surprised you a bit, seeing how concerned he looked for your wellbeing.
Yet again, he’s Suna’s friend.
“I’m okay, why do you ask?” He didn’t believe you, that was clear. It was so obvious when his facial expression did not change, Kita was still staring intently at you. It almost felt like he was trying to read your mind.
“You dropped your pen, by the way.” Taking it out of his pocket, Kita hands you your familiar piece of stationary, not thinking about it, you grab it from his hand. “I know you were by the locker room when Suna said what he said.”
‘Oh shit.’ You felt your heart come to a stop, yet again.
“W-What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So it’s just a coincidence that after Suna said that about you, I found your pen in front of the locker room door, and you didn’t show up to practise till today? Y/N, I’m not sure if you’ve failed to learn something about me, but I can tell you that I am not an idiot.”
His words caught you off-guard. Kita managed to figure out what was wrong with you, without even knowing who you were. To be honest, it scared you a bit, getting a glimpse of what Kita can truly find out when he concentrated hard enough. You admire that about him.
Taking your silence as you not knowing what to say, Kita lets go of your forearm and sighs.
“Suna didn’t mean what he said. He’s a very thoughtful individual who was pressured into saying those things by the team. You know how they are. Please try to see things from his perspective, as Suna is often misunderstood.” He begins to walk away, but leaves with a final word, “I’m not telling you to change how you feel about the situation. You have a right to feel how you feel. But, don’t take Suna’s words too seriously.” Kita walks away, leaving you alone in the cafeteria.
‘Did he just say not to take the insults Suna threw at you seriously?’ The aggression left behind the negativity a few days ago wants to say, absolutely not. What Kita said is unfair, to you and your feelings. Suna called you annoying and said you were smothering him, how can you jump around that? So far you haven’t had a night where you haven’t thought about how…mean Suna was. You thought that he only would’ve been mean to Atsumu or the others, but not you, never you.
It’s safe to say that your mind felt like it was on the verge of exploding. It was so stressful to choose whether or not you should believe Kita and show Suna your love again, or just ignore him like what you’ve been doing for the past couple of days.
You think that it’s best to just…not think about the problem. It’s a situation for later, for now, the camp and most importantly, the team needs your utmost attention.
‘God, I hate high school.’
—
“Hey Suna, you good?” Suna takes a sip of water from his bottle, noting that it tasted different from usual. Nodding, he wipes his sweat off with a spare shirt from his bag, also becoming aware that the towel that he was given wasn’t the usual soft one that he had from the beginning of the year. This one was coarse and rough, making him pick up the shirt he intended to wear if he got too sweaty.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Hey, does the water taste a bit weird? Like, spoiled or somethin’ cause it doesn’t taste like how it usually does.” Osamu’s eyebrow raises, grabbing the bottle from Suna’s hands despite his protests, and tasting his friend’s drink. To him, it tasted normal, like the normal water that came from the water fountain.
“No…it tastes like how it usually does?”
“Nah, can’t be man. The water I usually have is sweeter and it tastes like fruit juice. This shit tastes weird.” Suna’s face scrunches up, tasting his water again to see if he was just hallucinating the lack of flavour in his water. It’s stupid, how much he’s overthinking the flavour of something that he shouldn’t think that much about. But he hates how regular water tastes like, only really drinking it if he has to.
Observing Suna, it clicks in Osamu’s head what was missing from the water.
In the past, he has noticed you getting out a packet of electrolytes and putting it into Suna’s bottle with a sincere smile on your face. You looked so cute and happy, it puzzled him why you didn’t tell Suna that it was you that was making his water suitable to his tastes. The silent display of affection made him so jealous, he could only wish that he had someone that cared that much.
“What if you ask Y/N? She’s the one who fills up the water bottles anyway, she should know.” Osamu jogs back to the court, practising once more with the team captain. Inquisitively, Suna does remember that you fill up the water bottles. He also remembered how you asked him once at the beginning of the school year what his favourite drink was, and he only shrugged, saying that he likes fruit chuupets, and ever since then, his water tasted like the familiar fruity taste. Wanting to know why his water hasn’t been tasting like it as of late, it prompted him to go on a search for you. Damn warmups, he needs to know why his water doesn’t have the same taste than it usually does.
Looking around the gym, he sees your figure turn into the hallway. Following you, he begins to walk faster in order to catch up to you, thinking about what to say to you in his head, without coming across as mean.
���Y/N, why does my water taste bad?’ No. ‘Y/N, why doesn’t my water taste like fruit?’ No, he’s going to sound stuck up. ‘Y/N, why does my water taste like everyone else’s?’ Oh God no, that sounds even worse.
‘Y/N, is there something different about my water?’ There you go. That should sound right.
He was ready to confront you, preparing himself to call out your name. But before he could do so,
“Dove!” Suna’s head snaps to the loud voice in front of him, and so does yours, as a tall, lanky, goofy-looking boy makes his way towards you. Much to Suna’s dismay, for some reason, a smile etches itself onto your face as the other man approaches you. “I thought I would never find you.”
“Tetsu, aren’t you supposed to be practising with your team? You shouldn’t be behind here.”
“Well, I just wanted to see my girl. Is there any harm in that, Dove?”
“Tetsu, stop,” you mutter, a bit shy, “I don’t want people from my school to hear you call me that.”
“Aw, you’re still cute as ever. Here, let me help you with that.” Suna sees the guy, ‘Tetsu’, grab the basket of water bottles from your hands. You protest, pouting a bit as Kuroo brings the case above your reach so that you wouldn’t be able to get it back. “I haven’t seen you in awhile Dove, let me be nice, okay?”
Honestly, he personally doesn’t know what overcame him, but out of nowhere Suna coughed loud enough for the pair to hear. He sees you jump a bit, seeing that one of your teammates, catching you in the midst of a conversation while you were supposed to be doing your duties. And it was even worse for you, as not only was it a teammate, but it was Suna. You assume that he probably hates your guts, based on what he said before. Even so, his glare started to make you feel a bit nervous.
“Can I help you?” Kuroo asks Suna as walks up to the both of them.
“I should be asking you that question. Do you need something from my team manager?” Embarrassed, you look down at your feet, trying to avert your eyes from Suna or Kuroo’s.
Kuroo’s eyes squint, looking at the middle-blocker who, to his surprise, matches his height. The both of them begin to have a staring competition, as one or the other refuses to tear away the eye contact. It started to worry you, because it’s almost been two minutes of harsh breathing and aggressive stares.
“O-Okay, I’ll be taking these then.” You grab the crate from Kuroo and begin to make your way to your original location. “Get back to practise guys! Lunch is in thirty!”
“Who are you and why were you talking to Y/N?”
“Woah, woah, buddy, why are you getting protective? Y/N, is a very, very, close friend of mine, so I think that I have a right to approach her right?” Kuroo smirks, stepping closer to Suna as a form of intimidation. “How about you? Are you her boyfriend or something?”
Suna glares at Kuroo, wanting nothing more than to hit him in the jaw. He would, but one, that would take too much of his energy, and two, he’s pretty sure you would hate him if he does. Still, something in Suna just wanted to tell Kuroo that he was your boyfriend just for him to back off.
But he wasn’t. Because he doesn’t like you. He’s sure of that.
“No.” Kuroo laughs, stepping back before turning to make his way back to the gym.
“Well then, that means nothing is stopping me right?” Kuroo walks away, but not before aggressively pushing Suna’s shoulder back with his own. Though, Suna was too concentrated on what the other boy said to even progress the aggression from the other side.
‘What did he mean ‘nothing is stopping him? Is Kuroo going to do something to you? What will Kuroo do that’ll result in Suna blocking him?’
“Sunarin! What are you still doing out here?!” Atsumu shriek could be heard from down the hall, making Suna jump out of his train of thought. He completely forgot that he was even standing here just staring at a wall and thinking of you. That was weird.
He usually never did.
—
The practice game against Inarizaki and Nekoma was…tense.
You could feel the passive aggressiveness coming strangely, from Kuroo and Suna across the net. Everyone else was curious as well, wondering exactly why these two, who’ve never met before, suddenly have a feud similar to that of a world war. At first, you were completely clueless, but then began to wonder if something happened in the hallway after you left.
Maybe Suna said something to tease Kuroo? Or maybe, it was the other way around and now they just want to kill each other.
In the third set at twenty-two points to Inarizaki and twenty-four points to Nekoma, the stakes and the nerves were equally as high. Nekoma has one win and Inarizaki has the other. It seems that this practice game was being played for far more than it actually was, since Kuroo and Suna never acknowledged each other apart from glaring and swearing at each other under their breath. Their respective teams kept asking them if they were okay, both replying with, “yeah, let’s just win.”
“Do you think something happened between Suna and that Nekoma player?” The coach asks you, leaning in and whispering it so that others wouldn’t hear.
“I’m not sure…but they do seem pretty aggressive with one another.”
Then, as you look away for just a moment, a spike comes from Nekoma, but was thankfully received by Kita. Following a set by Atsumu, Osamu jumped to spike it down, but was then blocked by none other than Kuroo himself.
At the brink of time, Ojiro retrieves it back, calling Atsumu to set it once more, this time for Suna to powerfully spike it down, aiding them in their two point loss between them and Nekoma. As Suna jumps up, you see Kuroo and Kenma jump as well.
A feeling of failure begins to settle in your heart.
Suna hits the ball, powerfully, the first time you’ve seen him hit a ball with so much energy.
But the ball immediately lands back down onto the same side, Kita not able to have caught up to it in time. Nekoma cheers out loud, congratulating each other on their hard work.
While Inarizaki lost, they began to support each other for their efforts, but you notice that Suna didn’t look as relieved as the others. His stare is hostile, facing towards the otherside where you see Kuroo looking at him with the same confrontational gaze. You swallow nervously, beginning to make your way towards Suna to pull him back. The Inarizaki boys take notice as well, observing how Suna and Kuroo were both stomping their way to each other. The same feeling of failure seeps into your chest again and you could sense something was going to go terribly wrong–
Suna punched Kuroo in the jaw!
Out of nowhere, a fight begins between the two players, both of them tussling with one another in the middle of the court. Kuroo lands a punch on Suna but is equally stunned when Suna fights back almost immediately after. You notice how Kuroo was pulling at his shirt, trying to bring him closer to land another blow, but fails as Suna strikes him one after the other. Both Nekoma and Inarizaki run up to their players, trying to pull them apart from one another.
The coaches start to shout at their players, ordering them to stop what they were doing at once.
Successfully, they both are torn apart from one another, but still continue to fight the air as they try to continue their brawl.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Your coach asks, trying to instill some discipline into his player. Unfortunately, your heart fails to calm down after witnessing the both of them fight so aggressively. You’ve never seen Suna fight someone, or him be so mad.
Suna looks up, pulling his arms away from his teammates and stares at you.
As the both of you make eye-contact, you refuse to move from your position and remain shaking. Almost as if you gave him an answer to something, Suna walks away, leaving behind everyone in awe.
Just then, you look up at Kita, who nods for you to go.
‘Should I go?’
The memory of him calling you annoying and smothering comes back in your mind.
‘Does he deserve my comfort?’
“Please try to see things from his perspective, as Suna is often misunderstood.”
Putting down the clipboard on the bench, you run outside to try and find Suna. Fall has never been kind to Hyogo, as rain pelts down from the sky, fogging your ability to try and see Suna. You call out his name, but your volume is minute in comparison to the strength of the rain.
Running into the open hallway, you look left and right to try and find the familiar boy. But, no luck. Your heart begins to ache at the realisation that you had no idea where Suna is. You didn’t know what he was doing all by himself in weather like this. Inside, you sincerely hope that he didn’t run out in the street.
‘Oh God, what if he did?’
Out of sheer panic, you run towards the direction of the gate, praying to the heavens that he didn’t do the latter. With rain coming down this hard, you knew that driver’s wouldn’t be able to see as clearly as they usually do. And the thought of Suna running into the street in hopes of getting his comfort jelly chuupets at the convenience store down the road doesn’t make you feel better at all.
You run out the gate, looking towards the direction of the store, failing to catch Suna or any person resembling him standing in the vicinity of it. Trying to get nearer and get a closer look, the sound of a blaring horn fills your ears. Turning to the left, you see a car heading your way, swerving side to side in a skidding motion. The road was so slippery in this type of weather, but why couldn’t you move?
The car was getting closer and your feet felt like they were stuck on the ground.
‘Why can’t I move?’
“Y/N!” Your body jerks back to the side. The car swiftly passes the both of you, getting back onto its regular general direction before driving further down the road. You feel your heart beating profusely, your heaving chest moving up and down in hopes of slowing it. “Are you stupid?! What do you think you’re doing?!?”
Looking up to thank your saviour, Suna’s panicked face greets you causing you to go silent. Both at the same time, you feel relief and stress seeing his face. Mostly relief because you’ve finally found him after all the events that occured today.
“Answer me—“
“Idiot!” Pushing him back, Suna stands there stunned while you clench your fists by your sides. “What—What do you think you’re doing, getting into fights, running out in the rain…are you a child?!? What is going on with you??”
Suna stands there silently.
“And don’t just stand there, I ran out in the road because, because I thought you went to buy your stupid chuupets that you love so much down at the convenience store! You are like a child, wanting fucking food when you’re angry or stressed. You know, I shouldn’t have come out here. In the rain, getting all wet. But you know what Suna, you know what’s pathetic? This, running in shitty weather like this, wouldn’t only be the most drastic thing I do for you.
Suna, for months, I-I’ve been buying expensive ass electrolyte packets, because I know you wouldn’t drink regular water. You only drink water that tastes like fruit juice. That’s from my own money by the way! I also cook you food, that I spend time out of my nights, and sometimes mornings, because you are picky! I know you don’t like cafeteria food, so I just threw my food into the circle, hoping to God that you just might like it! And-And let’s not forget about my towel, my hand sewn, hand washed, machine dried towel. I bring it for you fresh everyday Suna! I know you don’t like the rough school towels, so I brought mine with my initials!
And do I get noticed? No! I never got a ‘thank you’, or even a nod of recognition?! I have Atsumu or Osamu return my bento box in silence, even my towel, thrown into the pile with the rest of the team’s towels, and I get called annoying. I slave myself every day, Suna, just to get your attention. But I don’t think you realise that, I don’t have to do these things. I have never, ever, forced myself to do these things.
I am sorry, if I smother you Suna. I just love you so fucking much that I don’t realise the things I do to care for you, are exhausting.
But now, I’m exhausted. Of not receiving the gratitude I expect for the things I do. I was fine for awhile Suna, but now I’m—“
Then, you feel yourself being pushed onto his chest. One of Suna’s arms wrap around your waist, while the other holds your head down gently, as if silencing you from saying the rest of what you wanted to say. You feel shock course through your veins as the last thing you expected was a hug from the Suna Rintarou.
You and Suna stood under the harsh rain, their heartbeats echoing the drumming of waterdrops around them. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in that intimate moment.
“Don’t get tired Y/N, please don’t get tired of me.” Out of nowhere, you feel yourself begin to cry. Wiping your tears onto Suna’s already wet jersey, he manages to sense your exhaustion, urging him to glide his hand on top of your head continuously. “I am grateful Y/N, that you do all these things for me without me having to ask.”
Suna pulls the both of you apart, cradling your face as he attempts to wipe your tears off. Despite his efforts however, you continue to cry, meanwhile struggling to breathe as you attempt to catch your breath. It feels like despite all the tears you’ve cried in private, seeing Suna recognise you brought a whole different wave of emotions.
“Don’t cry, I don’t want to see you crying because of me.” At that moment, Suna ponders for a bit as you see him look at you. You feel yourself freeze as he leans down to plant two kisses on both of your cheeks, an effort to dry your tears. Putting his forehead on yours, his thumbs continuously brush your jawline, as if he was admiring you. “It’s difficult for me to say Y/N, but I love you.”
Your eyes widen.
“I’ve loved you since elementary when you pushed that little boy off the swing after he pushed me off. I’ve loved you since middle school when you would sneakily put chuupets on my desk, even if you thought I didn’t know. You’re beautiful Y/N. And, I’m sorry for not thanking you earlier for everything you’ve done for me. I’m not brave like you, I can’t show the people I love that I care for them.”
“B-But the bento…”
“Of course I ate it. It hurts me to think that I didn’t, I just always asked Atsumu or Osamu to bring it back. You make me nervous Y/N. I can’t confidently walk up to you when you get prettier every time my eyes turn to you.
You make me weak, Y/N.” You huff, sniffling as Suna lands another kiss on the tip of your nose. He smiles and brings you in for another hug, but this time, your arms wrap around him tightly.
It is difficult to love Suna Rintarou.
It was a path fraught with uncertainties and moments of doubt. But as you stood there, holding the rain-soaked figure before you, you knew that the journey was worth it. Because in the depths of his guarded heart, you had found a love that was as powerful as it was fragile, as beautiful as it was challenging. And you were determined to weather the storm, to be the unwavering presence that helped him navigate the complexities of love and vulnerability.
#haikyuu#haikyuu anime#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu angst#haikyuu hurt/comfort#suna rintarou#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro fic#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintarou angst#suna rintarou fluff#suna rintarou hurt/comfort#suna rintarō#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro scenarios
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hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??
Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.
(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))
tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->
tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.
hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.
tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.
not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.
i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.
i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->
perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.
originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.
there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.
your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.
his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.
tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.
he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.
which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.
he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.
however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.
your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.
he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.
he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.
it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.
your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.
it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.
as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.
during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.
surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.
tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.
the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.
he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.
however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.
perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.
it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.
you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.
observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.
his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.
the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.
perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.
he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.
he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.
he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.
and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.
the man moves at his own pace.
so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.
and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.
if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.
and this might have annoyed some, but not you.
you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.
eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.
and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.
your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.
whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.
making you his.
without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.
you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.
as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.
pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”
the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.
of course, you’d be his.
#harry potter#tom riddle#tomriddle x reader#tomriddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle smut#tomriddle smut#tomriddlesmut#slytherin boys#slytherinboys#slytherin#hufflepuff reader#hufflepuff#mattheoriddle#mattheo riddle#tom riddle ai#mattheo#mattheosmut#mattheo riddle smut
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a safe haven l ten
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.
word count: 5k
a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33
this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?
“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”
Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.
“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”
“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”
He shakes his head in utter exasperation.
“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”
Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.
Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.
Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.
“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”
He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.
Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.
Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.
Exactly how far had Luke taken it?
Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?
Until you almost lost complete consciousness?
Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?
Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?
Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.
This shouldn’t have happened.
He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.
This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.
“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.
His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.
Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.
But can you honestly fault him for that?
How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?
Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.
And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.
He should have done something.
Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.
“Joel—”
“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.
Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.
“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”
With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”
“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.
“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”
“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.
Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.
His brother wouldn’t believe it.
“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”
“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”
There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.
Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.
Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”
“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.
“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”
Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.
“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”
Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”
He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”
She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”
“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”
He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.
“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”
He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”
“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”
“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”
Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”
“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”
He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.
“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”
“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”
“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”
Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”
Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.
“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”
He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”
She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”
“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”
Maria gives his arm another squeeze.
“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”
“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.
“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”
She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”
“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”
Moments later, you both hear the shower going.
“Little shit,” he grumbles.
You exhale an amused huff through your nose.
Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”
Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”
“Runnin’ you a bath.”
You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”
“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”
You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”
“I know.”
“I’m capable of washing myself—”
“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”
That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.
“But your hand—”
“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”
Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.
“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.
Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.
Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.
Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”
You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.
“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”
You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.
He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.
As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.
“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?
The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.
Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.
“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”
“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”
He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.
You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.
“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”
A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”
He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”
Home.
You’re home.
He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.
It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.
He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.
“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.
“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”
“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”
You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”
“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”
“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”
Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”
Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.
“I—I’m not too sure.”
“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”
Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.
She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”
“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”
“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”
“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”
“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”
She disappears, closing the door behind her.
“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”
“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”
“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”
Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.
“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”
“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”
“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”
Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.
“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”
Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.
“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.
“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.
He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.
Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”
Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.
You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.
“Joel? What’s the matter?”
“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.
“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.
Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”
“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”
Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.
You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.
Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.
Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”
“You’re going to build the crib?”
He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”
“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”
“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”
You fall silent.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”
He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”
His declaration comes with natural ease.
And so does yours.
“I love you too, Joel.”
#fic: a safe haven#fic: ash#tw dv#tw domestic violence#tw pregnancy#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller series#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller angst#the last of us fanfiction
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𓆙 cardigan - CORIOLANUS SNOW x f! reader
summary and tw: you find out coryo left you for lucy gray behind your back. (a little divergent from the story ofc) angst, divider credits : @cafekitsune 𓆙
You frown at Livia's pitiful gaze placed on you, her eyes talking too much for your liking.
"What?" You said, talking to her even though you barely did.
She suddenly looked around uneasy, her fingers going easily to go play with each other. "Don't you know..?"
You looked at her confused, partially in annoyance. You never did really like it when someone kept something from you. "What?"
Livia hesistantly spoke, looking in the direction of the stack of papers including tributes. A paper with the name, "Lucy Gray", branded on it was on the front of the stack.
"Not of Snow and the district 12 girl?"
You tried to not show a concerned face, but you had heard some rumours. How could you not? Everywhere you went, all you heard was about the games. This had to be brought up at some point.
"I know I shouldn't have been there, but I saw them. Kissing, I just wanted to let you know."
You usually couldn't believe the words that spewed out of Livia's mouth, the Capitol probably all relied on her for gossip. Except this time, you felt it might be true.
Livia walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. A girl that wasn't you? From district 12? You chuckled to yourself in disbelief. The songbird?
You walked home on rough cobblestones, thinking to yourself about what he had done. Was he just lying the whole time? You blew on your hands, shivering from the cold. You unfortunately had to see Coriolanus Snow the next day. Those times when he had asked you what you thought of random situations, was that to.. help Lucy? Perhaps, you were too over-trusting of Livia?
For hours, the gnawing grief kept you awake at night. Does he love me? Does he love me not? You were plucking petals of a wilting white rose buried in snow.
Snow walked up to you, that familiar grin of his accompanied. "My favorite girl."
You raised one of your eyebrows at his words, "As of late, it appears to be Lucy Gray. Don't lie to me, Coryo."
His face fell, his hands at his sides forming into small fists. "It's not what you think. How could you even think that of me?"
He had already reached that process of thought, you never even truly accused him. Was he really that defensive?
"Coryo, answer this. Be truthful. Did you kiss your own tribute?" You slowly ensured he heard every syllable, your chest pushed down with the hurt of the possible truth. You tried to resist the temptation to see if something about you was different from her.
"I did." He leaned into your direction, not even being able to tell if he feels any regret for it except in the way he moved.
You scoffed, "I love you, you idiot. Do you even know what love this?" Your voice turned toneless, and quiet. The fact started to emerge on you.
He didn't love you anymore. That is, if he ever did.
Your voice cracked, the way it did when a father yelled at his child for breaking a plate. You didn't want to cry infront of someone who would judge you even more when they are in the wrong.
You struggled to breathe, trying to bite the inside of your cheek. "Was it fake? And all those weeks before now? Are you.. infatuated with her?"
He stayed quiet, unable to find a response to you without you breaking down. His jaw clenched, eyes shut. "It seems I am. She's.. different from what the Capitol has to offer."
The Capitol. He meant you.
"Remember that one night, when Arachne's little group tried to make fun of us? I helped you that night. When you told me how you felt about them, truly."
He yawned in disinterest, waiting for you to either continue or stop.
Your mouth felt too dry, you felt too numb, cold. You felt too much. You felt the unwillingness to let him go. Lucy Gray met this Snow, she never knew the one before. The one you know.
"What does she have that I don't, Coriolanus?"
He looked appalled for a moment, he'd never heard that name come from you. What did he expect? Your shoulders drooped, you weren't sure if you could handle the internal battle that was about to begin.
"Don't make me, please." He shuffled around, the guilt starting to rise up to him. You were no songbird, yet you had the heart of one that Lucy Gray did not.
"What worse damage can you committ? You have broken me down till I am bleeding." You murmured, trying to hold onto the sanity you've managed to keep.
"She was like a breath of fresh air, she reminds me of what it is to love. It.. is fearful." He said, the feeling of a lump down his throat.
Fresh air. He had finally broke your heart, and there was no way of returning it back to you.
Crestfallen, you realized this would be your last moment with Coriolanus Snow. No embraces, no kisses, no well done when you finally did something right at the Academy, no more Coryo.
You felt an avalanche of sorrow pouring down onto you, grief enveloping you like the old friend it is.
"I see." You walked away, not being able to see him any longer.
"No- wait!" His voice called out, echoing against the walls. Yet, he never followed you.
Lucy Gray was dead. The 10th Hunger Games ended. It was ironic, Snow had left you for something he was sure he wanted. Atleast, he got the one thing he wanted as president of Panem.
You watched the 15th Hunger Games begin with a speech, a man with white-blonde hair show up on the screen who sat on a stage infront of the crowd. His words were towards the public, but his attention was to you.
#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus x you
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— cute things they do unintentionally
including tighnari, scaramouche, alhaitham, kaveh x gn! reader
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack??, very sweet and loving, they adore you
— tighnari + his ears twitch and he blushes easily around you
the usual self assured and poised tighnari had a lovely habit of being all over the place in front of you— after all, he‘s unquestionably in love with you, wholly, and he adores you.
on the treacly occasion of that— when you decide to casually meet up for a tranquil walk with your sweet forest ranger or a serene spending at home enclosed by his arms, you can clearly see a diverse change in mannerism, yet one detail in particular outshines the others abundantly.
it‘s when he reacts at one of your jokes, but not just that, it can be a random notion or story you would happily talk about, what you happened to do these past hours you had been apart— perhaps a pretty rose catching your attention, its sprouting scent squaring over your nostrils, each petal so beautiful and soft— but his cheeks then idly bristle with a fire-like convulsion when you drift off into your day dream while hugging yourself into his chest, and tighnari shelters a pink color on his face.
regardless of how, his ears then, you called it! twitch.
once, twice, it's frantic, far and wide— but he knows what that feeling is too, he knows better than to desperately fight against it so instead he swiftly averts his gaze from you to recollect himself, somehow.
for tighnari, it was clear as day that this task was challenging, at bottom you were simply irresistible to him— you meet him and his breathing shortens, but he is content with you, yet wholly engulfed that it left him bereaved of required oxygen.
of course, well, this was indeed happening to him right now, but he asks himself, then grunts in frustration, not again, why must it always happen on the most burdensome times for him to lose himself, especially when he was just growing tired and had attempted to fall asleep surrounded by your consummating scent and weightless traces?
"is something the matter?"
it wasn't unusual for you to point out a dissimilarity of his habitual behavior, and your eyes were webbed with transparent worry that tighnari felt immensely guilty over, because it was him who inflicted it upon you.
to flip the coin into a distinct course of action, he says your name— a little breathy, silk-like— but it translates into the language of your heart and exudes into your body.
"i‘m alright, *cough* just caught something in my eye."
— scaramouche + gets all happy and excited when he tells you stories
scaramouche's velvety, smooth voice plays in your head on repeat, when he talks to you it's a sign of love, a sign of i want you to know this, or to elaborate further, it's evident to;
'i need you to know this because you're important to me and only you matter.'
you're fixated on his ecstatic sewn pupils and you openly admit to yourself that you cannot get enough of all the witty stories he would tell you on a daily basis— it did not matter to you how minuscule or of little importance they may be, what truly mattered was that scaramouche had begun to be more open and forthcoming towards you.
what your charming boyfriend was not aware of nor fathomed, was how contrasting his behavior would turn whenever he's thoroughly meshed in his story telling mode.
true feverishness and a drastic hurdle of thrill settles in his mannerism as he excitedly continues his own personal anecdotes of the passing day.
but those eyes, those spirited indigo eyes were vitally euphonious to the concealed dimples on his face that split larger after each new word spelled out, around the corners of his mouth to be exact, therefore accentuating his doughy, handsome physical responses.
extending far down, scaramouche was acquainted with undoubtable sureness that it was you who helped him grow, who showed him an escape route from the blooded thorns of his past.
"hey!" wow, what a way to snap you back to reality.
scaramouche sounded like he was in dire need of some attention from you and his hands were awkwardly tugged to each side of his body— though, let me get you in on a secret, the secret of all secrets, he actually longed to have them drawn on your frame, in effect, glissading them over your soft skin to pull you into a hug afterwards.
"are you even listening to me?!"
"of course i am!" you're lying, you're not.
in actuality you leaned into the delicious easement of your thoughts again— precisely about comforting memories from your boyfriend, even though he was right in front of you, in all of his splendor beauty, feeling understood even in your silence.
"okay, so what did i just say?"
"uhm."
damn you scaramouche and your refined ability to look right through someones skin and capture a glimpse of everything he needed to know.
"okay okay." you lean back into your chair— defeated, hands dramatically throw up in the air while fighting back the urge to say something that would drive your boyfriend off the edge.
but, at long last, you go in anyways, "you're just very cute." and it's the same again, his eyes widen in eternal radiance— rivaling celestial bodies in outer space while kuni seals his lips together in frustration because you managed to catch him off guard again.
the man huffs before erratically coughing out, attempting to distract you from his flustered face, but we all know he won't manage to accomplish that.
— alhaitham + scrunches his brows together when he complains about something
alhaitham abominates working. the end.
precisely supplemental hours of his existing work tasks that mostly focus on him aiding helpless akademiya scholars in their failing research.
while— being in a relationship with the acting grand sage of the sumeru akademiya naturally came with a lot of things, both good and bad feats— as might be expected the goods always outshine the negatives, you despite that understood your boyfriends increasing urge to get rid of his current title as fast as possible.
alhaitham was a busy man now, even busier than beforehand— and he regarded it with disgust, throughout-going abhorred it, that he couldn't come home at his routined time to spend some additional hours with you, his sweet significant other.
what alhaitham does know was that whenever he did arrive from a fatigued day— you will always, heavy emphasizing on the always, earnestly wait for him with a giant hot cup of tea being planted on the kitchen counter, on stand by and ready to be tasted by the man you loved like nothing else on this world.
"you're home later than usual."
a gasp of surprise evaporated from within as you began to point out the obvious, excitedly strolling towards alhaitham to gift him a proper welcome home, accentuating the passion filled gesture with a little peck on his warm cheek.
"it's unbelievable, isn't it?" someone must've woken up a tilt grumpy today, you figured, but let him carry on with his words.
"—and one might think that if there is nothing to do, i can simply take my leave." he continues, kicking his boots off his feet, one by one, while breathlessly sinking into the giant couch.
before the tea would turn cold, you decided to gracefully hand him the home made beverage, but not darting yourself off him, listening eagerly to what he had to say.
"but no, they need me for every. minuscule. task."
and alhaitham's eyes twitch, again— though his brows, they were pressed together so damn tight, if you didn't know any better you would've expected him to pop a blood vessel by now.
"do i look like i am interested in social interactions?" he asks you now, yes, dead serious while pulling you in with his hypnotizing eyes— although lifted with some serious eye bags, they continued to hold a graven significance that had you drawn to him the most.
but this situation was wearing thin, at least alhaitham was alarmingly more tested than usual, but at last you couldn't help yourself and work against your honest reactions, laughing at how awfully adorable he could be at times, without smiling— but it's so sudden, his face was showing so much emotions and it only encourages the sharp sting inside of you to giggle once again.
but do not get those particular things messed up nor into wrong directions— because seeing alhaitham have a hard time at work wasn't the humorous part at hand, it was the way he had told them to you— nose held up high while he repeatedly huffs away the bothering hair strands falling into his face, which only adds fuel to the burning frustration in himself, or his eyes a touch nudged together and rolling into the back of his head at each of his own sentences spoken.
an outer perspective would ultimately determine that he's in reality talking and agreeing with himself.
"have i unintentionally said something humorous?"
"no." you immediately snort back at him and swiftly rub over your saturated eyes, because yes, you indeed laughed yourself to tears.
"or maybe you did." and you idly lean next to him while keeping one hand on his thigh, "but you're home now, please rest."
perhaps this was what alhaitham had wanted to hear all this time— as the second you said it he exhales deeply, through his parted lips but greatly, he doesn't think he has any more energy left in his body if he was being honest.
but that's it now, it was the ideal time to rest, nothing matters, not the past nor the future. he was in the precious, safe confines of his home with the person he loves the utmost (and his roommate napping next doors).
"you're right, apologies." you immediately know alhaitham's embarrassed when he's muttering his words, but he feels his heart audibly beat in his chest and so do you.
"nothing to apologize for, my love."
— kaveh + searches for your touch whenever you spend time together
kaveh's heart blossoms throughout the entire day with an immediate segment of impassioned love the trifling moment he catches onto your silver like voice musing into his ears— thank the archons you‘re here, because he might‘ve lost his mind if he was about to stay without your company for much longer.
in point of fact, it's beyond easy to forget the pressuring hardships he has experienced in the past when he looks into nothing but your fascinating eyes— it's spellbound, featherlight.
on the other hand, in his own imagination, kaveh was sure that in reality he had nothing to offer back to you— even with you kindly assuring him that he’s nothing but the best and perfect in your eyes, over and over until it’s carved into his damned skull, he continues to harvest that deep rooted insecurity in him. although regardless of his broadening insecurities, he continues to treat you like you deserve nothing but the world.
it can be spoken with enormous confidence that he can‘t get enough of you. kaveh didn't think of wanting to show you off— or maybe he did but not in an over the top way, he was just so much in love with you and had made it his own personal achievement to make the entirety of sumeru know that you're taken, yes it's true, everyone keep their hands off you because you are taken, and he was the one who captured your heart.
now with that out of the way, whenever you would decide to go out on a walk or grab a beverage to go, kaveh would unintentionally plant his palm on your lower back, keeping it there.
or when you're enjoying a warm day outside, finding great comfort in the beautiful panorama of sumeru city with the gratifying scent of padisarah establishing in your nostrils, he'd cautiously flicker his fingers against your own while interlocking them in the process, so he could hold your hand and be with you, even closer than before, and experience those little things that had him weak on the knees and indisputably giddy.
he needs his hands on you— around your shoulders, scattered on your back, coupling fingers into each other or a fine-drawn peck on your cheek before entering the cafe together.
while he does most of those things unintentionally, you will push him over the edge the moment you initiate those things yourself, when it is you who does it to him— it's when his lips slightly part and his eyes are blown out with both surprise and deep rooted love, when you cheekily smile back at kaveh while taking his hand to walk and rush him towards another precious spot you had been made aware of in sumeru city.
"you'll love this place baby, trust me!"
you assure kindly, cheeks prickling a warm cradle with your belly welcoming the sweet butterflies courteously— pulling kaveh to the desired destination and by the matching reactions of your connected bodies, he does the same to you.
©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#scaramouche x reader#alhaitham x reader#kaveh x reader#tighnari x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#genshin impact#al haitham x reader#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#genshin impact scaramouche#genshin impact alhaitham#tighnari x you#scaramouche x you#kaveh x you#alhaitham x you#genshin drabbles#genshin impact drabbles
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