#but he cared and he tried and he had everything stacked against him and his students

[depressedhatakekakashi]

People need to learn to hate a character without coming up with the most BS excuses.

You cannot actually tell me Naruto learned more from Jiraiya, or Sasuke learned more from Orochimaru than they did from Kakashi

Jiraiya taught Naruto Rasagan and Summoning.

All we see Sasuke get from Orochimaru is his summons, and he also has an eagle summon so clearly he couldn’t even just have only the snakes to connect him to his ‘master’

Meanwhile, Kakashi taught Naruto chakra nature, how to use his shadow clones, Basic Chakra control, is stated to have improved all three of his students exponentially before the chunin exams, and of course he taught all three of his students the importance of teamwork and protecting their friends over the mission. A lesson that Naruto and Sasuke both take to heart in their own way.

He taught Sasuke the chidori, which Sasuke evolved into other types of chidori style jutsu’s. He also helped him improve his taijutsu so much in a month that Gai, the Taijutsu master, was impressed and concerned about the training Kakashi put him under for that month.

Sakura is the only one who we can confidently say learned more from her master, and Kakashi can’t teach medical ninjitsu (he only knows basic medical ninjitsu and that’s only after the way) and states himself he’s not the best at teaching chakra control (hence why he asked Ebisu to help Naruto with that during the month between chunin exam fights)

Like…

Hate Kakashi all you want but calling him a ‘Bad Sensei’ is factually incorrect for what we see. Even when he screws up it’s not out of malice or thinking he just knows better. He’s genuinely trying to help his students and just screws up.

It happens.

#wanna talk about how much Care the Sensei put into their students? #mistakes aside Kakashi clearly cared about every single one of his students #he cheered Naruto on and was proud of him in his chunin exam fights #he assured Sasuke that he would protect him in the land of waves arc when he saw him freaking out #he tried to comfort Sakura when she was upset about Naruto and Sasuke fighting #he tried to reach out to Sasuke when he saw him crumbling after his interaction with Itachi #he was always there to put Naruto back and get him to try and think things through as well as being determined to protect him #his first action when he came back to life after Pein’s attack was to find Naruto and make sure he was alright #when he realized Sakura was going after sasuke to try and kill him he chased after her to try and stop her #and when he realized a fight was going to happen he tried to take the burden of facing Sasuke off of Sakura’s shoulders #like did he do everything right? #no! #no one can #but he cared and he tried and he had everything stacked against him and his students #and he STILL fought tooth and nail for them because he loved them

[koenigami]

COLD HANDS, WARM HEART.

wriothesley x fem!reader summary : spending your night far away from everything and everyone with your lover in a cabin on a cold night, you finally uttered your deepest wish to him. wc : 3k tags : +18, smut, fluff, established relationship, talks about children, marking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, wrio about to unleash his breeding kink

The fire casted shadows along the walls as it danced in the fireplace, the warmth and crackling of burning wood creating a cosy ambience that could have made you fall asleep right then and there on the floor. Cold winters in Fontaine weren’t unusual yet you could not remember the last time you had seen thick layers of snow like the ones that currently covered the meadows and mountains of your homeland like large fluffy clouds. 

A cold breeze rushed inside the little wooden cabin and made you shiver when Wriothesley slipped inside, nudging the door shut with his foot while carrying piled up pieces of wood in his arms. You smiled at the sight of his reddened nose and cheeks, flakes of snow sprinkled all over his hair and slowly melting away, leaving back a trace of slightly damp curls. 

“Hope this will be enough for the night.” He sighed, neatly stacking the wood in the little basket beside the fireplace before he joined you on the woven carpet. “Good thing you stayed inside. It’s so damn cold.” 

“‘Course, otherwise I would have turned into an icicle.” You smirked, remembering how Wriothesley earlier had threatened to tie you to the bed because you had begged him to let you accompany him outside to get the wood. Apparently, wanting to watch your handsome boyfriend use his astonishing strength to chop wood had been too much to ask for. However, the shriek that you let out when his bare hands touched your neck was proof enough that staying inside had not been such a bad idea. 

“Shared sorrow is half the sorrow.” You grabbed his wrists, liberating yourself from the frosty feeling on your skin, and instead tried to gently envelop his hands in your smaller and especially warmer ones. Wriothesley studied you with curious eyes as your thumbs traced tender circles along the back of his hands while warming them up with your warm breath. 

“You don’t need to do that.” Your movements halted, and you looked up at him befuddled. He went out by himself in that freezing cold, the least you could do was make sure that he was warm and- “Share my sorrows.”

Bearing others burdens on his own shoulders was a piece of cake for Wriothesley, because somehow he always managed to take care of them very easily. Yet the melancholic smile that he would shoot you every time you stated the desire to help him was a clear sign of a deeply rooted self-destructive habit. And despite knowing that it was only a way to keep you away from any further unnecessary trouble, in some situations it felt more like a brick wall that he cemented between the both of you. 

“You’re right.” You stated matter-of-factly, leaning over to ruffle his hair and ridding him of the residue snowflakes. “But I want to. And the next time you threaten to tie me to a piece of furniture, I’ll simply handcuff you to the bed.” 

“Threatening me with a good time, huh? Sweetheart, you should really work on your bargaining strategies.” His smug smirk turned into a lighthearted chuckle when he saw you scoff and turn your head away from him in annoyance. Though your body did not resist even an ounce when one of his arms encircled your waist and pulled you closer against him into a tight embrace. You instinctively snuggled into his side, the knitted pullover that he was wearing making him look tamer and more cuddlesome than his usual dress shirt and tie.  

Coming here was a good idea. Far away from Wriothesley’s duties as well as your own work, no court cases or due dates for your reports; you were grateful for some uninterrupted shared time with him even if only for a few days. It’s what you both were in need of. Especially since there were matters that had somehow been lingering on your mind and soul for a while now-

Soft tender touches were shared as the snowfall outside the window slowly started to get heavier. His hands along your hips and waist, sliding underneath your pullover to caress and feel the heat of your skin, your lips on his jaw and cheeks, feeling the light stubble on his face. Slow and teasing movements that made your skin tingle and heart do somersaults, the awareness of how happy this man’s presence was making you, bringing a genuine smile to your lips. 

“Want me to make some tea?” You eventually asked when you detached yourselves from each other for a moment. Tilting your head slightly, you looked at him. The fire casted an orangish light over the side of his face, the flame reflecting and swirling in the deep blue of his eyes and risking hypnotising you if you wouldn’t stop staring right into them.

“Nah, maybe later.” 

“Did you just deny an offer of tea? Are you sick?” You giggled and watched his own lips form into a wolfish grin. In the blink of an eye, you were tackled and pinned to the carpet while Wriothesley’s body now loomed over yours and caged you between his arms. “I see so now it’s sex over tea?”

With nothing but the fire illuminating the cosy bedroom, you looked so ethereal. Your hair was sprawled around your head like a halo, and your skin felt so soft and warm as he glided his fingertips along your cheek and further down to your neck where he started littering light fleeting kisses. “Of course not, my love. It’s you over tea.” He spoke between each kiss. “You over everything.” 

A gasp escaped you when the sweet kisses turned into teasing bites, heat already pooling between your legs at the way he sucked on your skin, finishing his markings with light traces of his tongue. Your legs instinctively spread, letting him slot himself between them as he kept assaulting your neck, tasting you, inhaling you in such a fervent way that he made it seem like you have been separated from each other for months. And in some kind of way, it truly felt so. One tiring day after another had led to the both of you being so exhausted and depleted of energy that your shared bed had solely served as a way to recharge your batteries before the next same draining day would arrive with the same taxing work and tasks to be completed. 

His breath hitched when your hands slid into his hair, and with the tight grip you had on his strands, you noticed him lower his body, his hips grinding against yours and letting you feel the prominent growing bulge in his pants. 

“Mr. Wriothesley.” You suppressed a wince once you noticed that your attempted comment did not sound as teasing as you had hoped it would when you were so out of breath and desperate for him. “Don’t tell me we’re about to have sex on the floor when there’s a king size bed right next to us.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Blindly reaching to his side, Wriothesley tore the soft blanket off the bed, the both of you spreading it properly before you hurriedly settled on top of it. “There, better now?”

Though in all honesty, you could not care less about whether the ground beneath you was cushioned or not, whether you did it on the floor or in a thousands of mora expensive bed, as long as it was him that your hands got to touch, as long as it was him that got under your skin and never let go of you. His patience was slowly crumbling to the ground and disappearing into nothingness as much as yours was. His touches became more eager, with rough hands groping your chest, and lips nearly devouring you, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue- It was so easy for him to make a mess out of you. 

The fabric of your jumper was soon bunched up, and your bra pulled further down to let the fat of your tits spill out of it. The warmth of his lips wrapped around your nipples as he started sucking on one while his thumb and forefinger played with the other, the corners of his mouth turning upwards when he noticed you arching your back. “Fuck, missed these tits so much.” He rasped, drunk on your body and the way it felt beneath his hands. His tongue slid around your areolas, sucking and biting at the plump flesh of your breasts until they glistened with his saliva. 

Once you two finally pulled back to completely rid yourselves of the clothes and fabrics that created a barrier between you, you were almost astonished at the light shake in your hands and breath, adrenaline and hormones having riled you up like a desperate teenager. Breathless chuckles and giggles echoed through the dimly lit room while you hopelessly struggled to undo buttons here, unclasp a bra there, and unzip and tear off legs of pants. Wriothesley hissed in pain when you harshly tugged the thick woollen pullover over his head, his helix getting caught in the fabric before you yanked it off him a little too harshly.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He spoke nonchalantly, rubbing over the apex of his ears to soothe the sting, and settled back between your legs which you deliberately wrapped around his waist. Digging your heels into his lower back, you pulled him almost impossibly closer as if any space left between your bodies would physically hurt you. With a hushed sorry, you trailed your mouth along the shell of his pierced ear, hearing and feeling his laboured exhales brush across your face when the pads of his fingers finally stroked along your already soaked folds. He played with you. Smearing your arousal over your clit, the circles he drew on the erected little bud made you let out the sweetest noises, his cock twitching in anticipation while he could barely wait any longer to hear you moan once he was inside you. 

Wriothesley carefully drove his thick middle finger inside you, so painfully slow that you keened needily, tightly gripping the blanket underneath you in your clenched fists, knuckles white. Though his exterior seemed far more composed than you were, the hard cock that you caught a glimpse of as it hung heavily between his legs with the irritated and glistening tip, the weight of it brushing against your thigh; your pussy unconsciously clenched around nothing, the empty and aching feeling inside you only getting stronger.

“Oh my god-” You nodded mindlessly with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, pouty lips slightly open in a silent moan when he finally added a second finger, filling you further up. Though you were far away from satisfied, and at the way your fluttering and pulsing walls gripped his fingers he too could tell that you needed more. The indecent squelching sound of his palm slapping against your wet pussy with each thrust was so loud, he couldn’t help but groan knowing that you were in such a desperate need for him, that you needed him to fill you up to the brim and satisfy you over and over again. 

“Let me see that pretty tongue.” You felt something in your stomach flutter at the sight of his satisfied smile once you obediently stretched your tongue out, letting him brush his soaked fingers on the pink muscle before dipping them into your mouth. With swirling movements, you made sure to lick them clean, the light suction of your lips making his breath hitch undeniably as he relished the sight in front of him, your pretty doe eyes glistening with moisture as the flame of the fire flickered inside them. “My gorgeous girl, always so good for me.” 

“Wriothesley.” You croaked when he retracted his hand, a dribble of saliva running down the side of your mouth while the taste of your own arousal still lingered on your tongue. As you reached down between your bodies to take his cock in your palm, brushing it along your folds to cover him in your juices, you involuntarily sunk your teeth into your lip, gnawing at the raw kissed flesh. No matter how many times you took him, he always made sure you were nice and ready for him, wanting to make this as pleasurable for you as possible. Yet something about the brief burn when your walls stretched around him, the way it sent shivers down your spine and made your toes curl until your body accommodated to his size; you could never get enough of it. “Just fuck me already.” 

“Alright, alright. Don’t hurt yourself.” His chest vibrated with a deep airy chuckle when he witnessed your eagerness, his big hand taking a hold of yours to place it beside your head, fingers weaving through yours and giving it a tight squeeze when his free hand guided his leaking tip to your entrance. “Going to fuck my darling real’ good, yeah?” 

“Yeah, oh-” The warm mushroom tip entered you, as Wriothesley slowly started fucking himself deeper into you. Inch after inch, he sank deeper, stretching you further before pulling back out, and leaving you a whimpering mess. The hand he had placed on top of your stomach to keep you in place, involuntarily grounded you and you wondered whether he could feel himself in your guts. Because with each thrust that he sank deeper into your dripping wet hole, you swore you could feel him in your throat. “Baby-” 

“I know, I know.” He breathed heavily against your ear when he eventually buried himself to the hilt, his balls flush against your skin, and tight walls gripping him like a vice, constantly clenching and unclenching. “Taking me so well. Always so… fuck-” 

Wriothesley’s voice died down when he felt you fuck yourself against him as if you were in heat, moaning and gasping every time you lifted your hips off the floor. Your legs were shaking by the time he moved his hand to your sex, thumb quickly brushing back and forth over your clit and making you topper over the edge. Your entire body turned rigid when you came, the intensity of your orgasm would have scared you if it weren’t for Wriothesley’s roaming hands, caressing and reassuring you. You had not even realised the tears running down your temples until he kissed them away, letting you taste the salty liquid when he slotted his lips against yours. “That’s it, I’ve got you, love. Ha, squeezing me so fucking tight.” He mumbled against your mouth. “Don’t think I’ll last much longer like this.” 

“Then don’t.” Regaining some control over your body, you were finally able to speak up though with a hoarse voice, and weak legs which you desperately tried to wrap back around his waist. Clasping his neck with your arms and holding onto him as if he was your life line, you moved your hips against his with a frail push, wanting to spur him on. “Wanna see you cum too. Want you to fill me up.”

“W-what?” His own thrusts stuttered when he caught your last sentence, letting your words sink in like honey on a burning wound. 

“Want you to cum inside me.” By the expression on his face and slowed movements, you could clearly tell that Wriothesley probably thought that your words were stemming from a spur-of-the-moment decision. Brain fried by pleasure and oxytocin, all words that left your mouth should be taken by a grain of salt, though right now in this moment, there was not a single thing that you were more sure of than the thought and wish that had been occupying your mind for weeks. A small being incorporating the love that you and Wriothesley held for each other. Crawling and toddling around your house, filling it with sweet laughter and cries, while looking just like him. His eyes, his nose, his kind heart.. “Y/n, we can’t just-”

“Been meaning to tell you this for a while now.” The pads of your fingers brushed against his flushed cheeks as you cupped his face in the softness of your palms. His deep blue eyes had taken on a darker shade, staring right into your soul, and you swore that if there was a way to drown into that ocean of blue, you would do it instantly. “Wriothesley, I love you so much. I-I can’t imagine a life without you.” 

Another stream of tears followed that made his eyebrows furrow before he gently wiped them away. Of course he had already had similar thoughts. How could he not when you were everything he had ever wanted in his life. Images of a little girl with the same sweet smile as yours, same hair, same attitude-

“Wanna give you a baby.” 

“Are you sure about that?” His gaze zeroed in on you, looking for something, just anything that could tell him that you were not being serious, that all of this was nothing but an awful joke, some terrible dirty talk. Though all he could find while gazing into your eyes was nothing but pure love and warmth as you nodded at him. Warmth that seeped into the deepest parts of his body, spreading and filling his heart to the brim with affection for a woman he would always be ready to do anything for. “Sweetheart, you’re-” 

You choked with wide blown eyes when his hips all of a sudden snapped against yours, his cock diving into your deepest parts and about to make you fall apart again. “You’re going to be the death of me, ya know that?” His voice quivered the slightest bit as he buried his face in your neck, and with his chest flush against yours, you could feel the rapid beat of his heart as it pounded only for you. 

The fire had dimmed by now, the dark red flame covered by ash and residue parts of scorched wood fighting for its last ounce of oxygen, while the heavy snowfall outside had calmed. However, when you let your nails scrape down Wriothesley’s back, leaving red marks beside the already residing scars along his skin, while his body eventually tensed up, fingers digging into the fat of your hips and cock pulsing, coating the walls of your insides in white- You knew that your night had barely even started yet. 

“Shit- Can’t wait to see you all round and swollen with my kid inside you, darling.”

#wriothesley #wriothesley genshin impact #genshin wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact wriothesley

[pseudowho]

Glory Glory: Higuruma Hiromi

An absolutely unhinged delicious "Help, I'm stuck!" series, where the reader is taken care of by the JJK guys.

18+ as always.

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Too many late nights and bottles of wine with Hiromi went this way; your conversations ran through a brambled path of half-Law and half-Jujutsu, as was in-keeping with the new path Hiromi's career had taken. His little office was dark, all old mahogany and panelled walls lined with case files, yellowing and dry. Hiromi liked to live life on the edge in this tiny office, by enjoying his wine with you by candlelight.

As you moved from one bottle of wine to two, the conversations turned from educated, to gossipy, and Hiromi participated eagerly with hooded eyes and a sardonic half-smile as you took turns to spill tea. A man who loves learning, loves information in many forms, you reasoned to yourself.

"I mean, Nanami Kento is absolutely right," Hiromi urged, his rich voice wine-drunk and sultry now, "Jujutsu sorcery is shit. And work is shit. I'm not sure why I do any of it. Maybe I should go back to my briefly attempted life of being a murderous reprobate." Hiromi drained the last of his wine, releasing a happy "mmmm" as he rolled his wine glass thoughtfully.

"And yet, we must work to live," you groaned, a dramatic arm over your eyes as Hiromi smiled at you, hooked nose crinkled, jaw resting against his hand. Pointing a finger at you as he arrived at a thought, Hiromi swung his legs down from the footstool before standing, reaching up to a shelf to start rummaging for a folder.

"I read something in an old case file the other day actually, and thought of you...hang on...where is it..." Hiromi mumbled to himself, hunting.

He gestured a hand back to you, still looking through the high shelves, "It's red," he pressed, "the folder, it's red. Help me search." You hummed your assent and went to the corner behind his desk, where a series of case notes stood perilously stacked on either side of a tight nook. Spotting a red folder at the back, underneath a large stack, you knelt on all-fours, and tried to weedle the folder out without causing disturbance to the others before--

-- a heavy paper rustle had you totally engulfed in swathes of case files, now falling open and tumbling over you, squashing your top half down with their weight, leaving you uncomfortably face-down-arse-up.

You heard Hiromi gasp behind you, "No no no, my filing--"

"Oh, 'filing' my arse, Hiromi, that was chaos--"

"-- I knew where everything was and now look at it--"

"--alright, alright, I'll just get out and you can sort--" as you moved backwards to pull yourself out, more stacks teetered and wobbled, collapsing onto you and Hiromi cried out his disdain, pushing you back into the nook with a strong hand on your arse.

You blushed, squirming against him, "Hiromi!" He held you in place, chastising you. He resisted the urge to squeeze you, arousal seeping into him at the shape of you in your delicious pencil skirt, nipping in at your waist and stretching over your arse and thighs.

"Don't move, you're making it worse!" He tutted at you, and you heard him rustling around above you, trying to correct the opened folders. After a few minutes, he sighed, giving up, the job too impossible to manage after so much wine.

Grabbing his gavel, he placed a wooden coaster on top of your outstretched arse, and tapped it sharply, once; "Guilty, of fucking up my filing system. Naughty." You giggled, wiggling your arse at him.

"Oh no, what's going to happen to me, sir?" Hiromi chuckled, humming, eyes darkening at you wiggling at him, god, you didn't know what you did to him, wine-drunk with him in the candlelight, your blouse slowly unbuttoning as the night went on, the gossip getting spicier and the inhibitions lowering, but never enough that you would come to him and let him taste the wine off your lips--

"Did you know," Hiromi pondered, pleased you couldn't see how solid his cock was against the thigh of his black trousers now, and Hiromi loosened his tie with one fine-boned finger, "that I can change the size and shape of this gavel?"

You paused, confused, wondering how this was relevant, but humoured him; "Oh?"

Hiromi hummed, stroking the gavel thoughtfully against your arse cheeks as you shivered, the wine bringing a blush, hot and fervent, to the surface of your skin.

"Obviously, I've considered its many applications," Hiromi continued, voice like satin now, convincing, alluring.

"Almost as long as I've considered you...in that skirt...in my office...all alone together, late at night." Your eyes fluttered shut as you bit your lip, soaking in his voice; you would be lying if you said you hadn't felt the same.

Hiromi's hands ran along the hem of your skirt, clever fingers rubbing circles underneath it now on the inside of your thighs. You let out a hushed moan, much to Hiromi's satisfaction. Emboldened, he continued as he rolled your skirt slowly upwards, thrilled to see the lace edge of your stockings come into view.

"Do you want to see...how it would feel? Inside you, getting bigger, smaller, longer, shorter...it could be fun. Something new." You gasped, pussy clenching at the thought of Hiromi pleasuring you, and you let out a happy murmur, too embarrassed to voice your agreement in words. Hiromi laughed, rich and bold behind you.

"Good girl." Your arse was completely exposed now, and Hiromi made quick work of disposing of your underwear, admiring the womanly curves and dips of you, tracing stretch-marks and dimples with his lithe long fingers. He grabbed his gavel, turning it in his hand.

You felt him kneeling behind you, Hiromi pressing his hips and throbbing cock hard once against you for relief, as he let out a crackling moan. He leaned down, nipping your arse a few times as you squeaked, punctuating the little red marks with wet appreciative kisses. You heard him growl, low and determined.

"I'm going to make you cum so hard, you forget your own name." You whimpered as Hiromi slipped his fingers through your folds, finding your clit with ruthless efficiency, removing them for a moment to taste you and spit on his fingers before pushing back into your pussy, rolling your clit between his fingers like a little pebble as you cried out and trembled at the sudden shocks of intense pleasure. You gasped, mewling, as your pussy clenched around nothing.

Hiromi watched your fluttering pussy, eager to be filled, and twisted his gavel, grasping it by the hammer now. Rubbing the handle up and down once, twice, three times between your folds, just as you were about to cry out and beg him, Hiromi slipped its length inside you to the hilt, and you squealed at the sudden cool wood inside you.

Hiromi continued, hushing you gently, continuing to rub small, tight circles on your clit as he planted soft, open-mouthed kisses to your lower back. He thrusted the handle of his gavel firmly in and out of you, tilting it just so that it rubbed insistently against your g-spot, and you shook and moaned.

"Could do with being a bit...thicker, though, hmm?" You squeaked in alarm and ecstasy as you felt the handle expand in diameter inside you, its added girth pressing flush against your inner walls, making you feel so tight as Hiromi continued to thrust it, harder now, and you felt pleasure coiling rapidly within you, your knees threatening to collapse underneath your shaking body.

"Or how about...longer?" You had a moment to gasp out in anticipation as you felt the gavel stretch inside you, pressing harshly against your cervix as you bucked and cried out. Hiromi revelled in delight as you fell apart beneath him, clever fingers working magic on you as you fizzed with ecstasy.

Hiromi's black spiked hair was unruly now and his shirt came untucked as he carried on working on you, thrusting the gavel into you at a relentless pace as he quickened his pace on your clit, and you begged, nonsense and pleas rolling off your tongue as Hiromi bit his lower lip, frowning and groaning at the white ring of cum forming around the base of his gavel as he thrusted and thrusted it.

Your orgasm was about to peak, when Hiromi rapidly reduced the size and shape of the gavel, and you cried out in utter disdain. Hearing a rapid rustle of fabric behind you, and a zipper being pulled down, Hiromi pulled the gavel out, throwing it aside, and thrusting his aching cock hard into you until he bottomed out with a sandy moan.

Folded over you to continue his frantic circles on your clit, Hiromi rutted into you with abandon. Your orgasm burst through you, white hot, and you would have collapsed had Hiromi not held you up, still slamming his hips against you with wet slaps, unadulterated wine-fuelled whimpers falling from Hiromi's lips as his orgasm hit him, pleasure crackling through him, eyebrows raised and mouth agape in agonised euphoria.

Hiromi held his breath as he came, releasing it in one shaky gasp as he came down, grinning and delighted. You slumped to the floor, utterly dazed, Hiromi's cum dripping out of you onto the dark oak floor.

Hiromi panted, leaning down to kiss your back again as he squeezed your hips. Nuzzling you with his hooked nose, he spoke casually.

"More wine?"

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#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #jujustu kaisen #kento nanami x y/n #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #higuruma x reader #hiromi jjk #jjk hiromi #higuruma hiromi #higuruma #jjk higuruma #higuruma smut #jjk smut #hiromi higuruma

[glitter-epoch]

Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee

HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!

[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood

“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.” 

you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...

and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.  

“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...” 

zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling. 

“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.” 

you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked. 

“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.” 

and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory. 

i’ve been personally invited to the office.  

not like it’s the first time, though.  

zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too). 

“lay down,” zayne commands.  

you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up. 

“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.” 

“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.  

“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.” 

you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.  

“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.” 

zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.  

he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad. 

“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.” 

“and that’s bad?” 

“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.” 

“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.” 

“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.  

“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.” 

“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.” 

he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.  

“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.” 

“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.” 

you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose. 

“ouch,” you hiss. 

you realize you’re probably stressing him out.  

“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse. 

“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.  

zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says, 

“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?” 

your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.” 

“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.” 

your eyes blow out like glass. 

zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.” 

“oh, how nice of you.” 

he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.  

he inhales at the sound. 

the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly. 

his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest. 

you bristle. “god, no.” 

“then why are you staring?”  

you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say, 

“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.” 

he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”   

the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think. 

zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.” 

he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.  

zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures. 

“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.” 

you nod. “sure.” 

“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.” 

you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.” 

his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 

“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?” 

you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.” 

your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.  

“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.” 

he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine. 

“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay.” 

you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill. 

“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.  

you peel one eye open and then the other. 

“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.” 

“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.” 

the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident. 

“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.” 

“okay.” 

his brows lift. “okay?” 

again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.” 

“no apologies,” zayne says. 

he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.  

you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.  

“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.” 

well, i can’t now. 

“got it,” you grind out. 

“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...” 

and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth. 

“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.” 

the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.  

his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.  

“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?” 

“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.” 

you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.” 

“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.” 

the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.  

“no,” you gasp. too fast. 

zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?” 

you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.” 

oh, sure.  

he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.” 

“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying. 

zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.  

you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.  

he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done. 

“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.” 

you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-” 

“watch.” 

for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?” 

zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.  

“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.” 

you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.” 

he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.  

your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand. 

he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up. 

you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.  

“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs. 

“where?” you croak. 

zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.” 

he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.  

you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word. 

“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.” 

and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.  

zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more. 

as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.  

“you like to watch me work,” he hums. 

his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over. 

“shut up,” you bite. 

he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving. 

“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.  

his pupils are swollen. “sure.” 

you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.  

“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.  

you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches. 

“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare. 

“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.” 

you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.” 

as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says, 

“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.” 

“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.” 

he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins. 

“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?” 

you swallow. “of course.” 

“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds. 

“oh, sure,” you tease. 

his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.  

zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.” 

he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’ 

☄. *. ⋆

this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace fluff #love and deep space x reader #l&ds zayne #l&ds x reader #l&ds #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #zayne x mc #l&ds fic #l&ds smut

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : angst ; Hyunjin is just sad (which is honestly relatable) ; reader thinks they're pregnant ; reader might be pregnant ; symptoms of pregnancy ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.0k Request : Annony : Can I request and angsty fic Where Hyunjin has just been going through a really rough time and y/n tries her best to be there for him and keeps waiting for the right time to tell him she thinks she’s pregnant. He just keeps crying and he doesn’t know why he’s so sad, but slowly he gets out of it a bit. One morning he wakes up because y/n is having morning sickness and showing other symptoms so she has no choice but to finally open up and tell him everything. They take a test and well…I’ll let you take creative control after this. I’m really excited I’ve thought this request through a lot and I hope you decide to write it

“Hey, you okay?” Your coworker asked as she walked into the breakroom. Your head had been resting against the table, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you tried to count your breaths. “Feeling dizzy again?” She asked when you didn’t answer her first question, and you gave her weak thumbs up in response. “Maybe you are… you know… the p word.” She whispered, and it’s not like it was a bad word to say, it’s just that you didn’t want anyone else that you worked with to know. 

“I’m too nervous to test…” You mumbled, and she knew exactly why. She was your only confidant at this point, especially since Hyunjin was going through his own personal problems. You didn’t want to stack anything else on top of whatever else was bothering him. All you did know was that, no matter how much you tried to help him or console him, he’d be right back to crying soon after. “Plus, it would be too soon… I don’t want to test too early or anything…” 

To be honest, home life wasn’t really the best right now. It’s not that there were any arguments, there was no fighting, but it was obvious that Hyunjin was stressed about something, and you were mentally stressed about potentially being pregnant, so the last thing you needed was triple the stress for both of you if a test came out positive. Even just thinking about it felt like too much right now.  

“Well you can’t wait forever. I mean… With his job, he gets stressed very easily. What are you gonna do? You can’t just hide potentially important things from him every time he gets upset or stressed out.” You rolled your eyes at your coworkers' sudden nagging, and while you knew that it came from a place of concern and care, you didn’t need that right now. You didn’t need to be parented, you needed someone to just be there for you. 

“He doesn’t get stressed easily, and you make it sound like he’s like this all the time. I’m not hiding things from him either, I’m giving him time to get in the right place mentally before dropping something like this on him.” You quickly defended your boyfriend, silently wishing that you hadn’t told your coworker anything at all. “He’s a good boyfriend, and just because he gets stressed and upset sometimes doesn’t change that.”

“I’m not saying that he’s not a good boyfriend for you… I just feel like you cater to him and his feelings a lot because of his job and your feelings get pushed to the backburner.” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t be further from the truth. 

“I’m not having this conversation right now. I appreciate you caring and trying to look out for me, but my relationship is fine. He’s a great guy… Okay? I have to get back to work now, enjoy your break.” 

///

Hyunjins moment seemed to last longer and longer. He’d lock himself in his room the moment he walked through the front door and you’d hear him cry for hours until things went silent, and the only reason things got quiet is because he’d cry himself to sleep. There was nothing you could do to help him because he wouldn’t even talk to you about it, and a part of you wondered if he’d ever get out of the funk he was in. 

With the time that passed, the symptoms only grew stronger. Your headaches were getting worse, the nausea was almost unbearable, even your boobs hurt. You wanted to excuse it as reading into the symptoms too much, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. You wanted to find any reason you could to hold off on testing until Hyunjin got better because you didn’t want to be alone when you found out, no matter what the result was. 

When Hyunjin was around, you tried to hide the symptoms from him. If you started feeling sick, you’d quickly go off to the bathroom and turn on the sink, hoping that you wouldn’t actually start throwing up. The tiredness that you felt was written off as working too many hours and being on your feet too long. Luckily he was none the wiser to the soreness in your breasts because you hadn’t been with him in any physical way since he had been in his funk. You missed him, and you wanted to blame the potentially surging hormones for the tears that would be shed when you’d lay in the same bed beside him at night without a single kiss or those three words that would make you feel like he did still love you. 

The longer it lasted, the more you would think about what your coworker had said. No matter how much you tried to get those words out of your head, they would constantly pop up. When you would hear him crying in the room and you’d try to help him, but it was like he was shutting you out. Not only did it feel like he was pushing you away, but it felt like you were by yourself. He wasn’t the only one going through something right now, and you wanted so badly to tell him, but for some reason you were trying so hard to protect him that you weren’t even worried about yourself. 

Even still, you didn’t want to give up on him. You loved him, and you truly believed that he just needed time, that he’d get better sooner or later, and no matter what, you’d stick by him, even if it meant pushing your own stresses, your own worries to the side until he got better. 

///

He was starting to feel better, he really was. It had been a week since the last time he had cried, and while he still doesn’t fully understand himself why things had gotten so bad or why he was so upset, he was thankful that he had you by his side the entire time, even if it didn’t seem that way. He wanted to take you out today, to show you that he appreciated you and everything that you do for him. He wanted to show you that he truly does love you, and that he’s grateful that you didn’t give up on him through this entire thing. 

The bed was already empty, which wasn’t rare as of lately considering he always seemed to sleep in, but one look at the clock on the bedside table made him fully aware that it was too early for even you to be awake. He could have sworn you came to bed last night, that he had felt the warmth of your body beside him underneath the covers. Had you gone to the couch at some point in the middle of the night? Were you finally pulling away? 

Just as he was pushing the comforter off of his body, he heard what sounded like gagging and choking and he never moved so fast in his life. Tripping over his own feet, he rushed into the bathroom to find you doubled over the toilet, sweat beading up on your forehead and spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth. It’s like you didn’t even realize he was there, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge him as you tried your best to seemingly catch your breath. 

“Baby… What’s wrong?” He whispered, kneeling down beside you to try to get you to look at him, but you only shook your head, pushing yourself up to your feet with the help of the side of the bathtub, leaving him on the floor and even more worried than before. “Are you mad at me? I’m sorry… Do you want me to leave you alone?” 

“No…” You said, your voice slightly raspy, and he could only assume that it was because of getting sick, but you sounded so tired too. He didn’t know how sick you were, he didn’t know what was going on or how long you had been feeling like this, but he wanted to be there for you now, no matter what was wrong. “I think… I might be pregnant…” Your head lowered, as if you were ashamed to be telling him that, although he wasn’t sure why. 

Of course, he wasn’t ready to be told something like that, he was sure that no man was ever truly ready to hear that, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t ready to step up and be the man that you and his potential child would need. “Okay… Well, I can run to the store and pick up some tests and we can find out if you are…” 

“I… Already have the tests. They’re in my purse…” You admitted and he nodded along slowly, trying not to get too upset that you had potentially been going through this for longer than he thought. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t want to do this alone…” Alone… He had left you all alone to deal with these worries and these thoughts and these fears. “You… You are okay… Right?” 

His head nodded swiftly, his eyes that were brimming with tears of guilt glistened in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I am… I’m okay. You’re not alone, I’m here and no matter what happens… I’m going to stay here with you. I love you…” He finally got up off the floor, scrambling to his feet just to stand in front of you, his eyes finally meeting yours for what felt like the first time. “You have nothing to worry about… I’ll always be here… I promise.” 

///

“Out of the way! Out of the way! Move it! Excuse us! Make room! Pregnant girlfriend coming through!” Hyunjin shouted as he walked with you down the halls of the JYPE building. He was so loud, you were sure that even the people the next floor up could hear him coming, he was like a damn fire truck with its sirens on. You rolled your eyes at the rambunctiousness of it all. “What? I just don’t want anyone to bump into you or anything. I’m trying to keep you and baby Jinnie safe.” 

Your eyebrows arched at the little nickname that he had given the baby, you hadn’t heard him say it before. You had had an ultrasound the day before, and the doctor had asked if you wanted to know the gender of the baby, but you and Hyunjin had both agreed to keeping it a secret until the birth. “Baby Jinnie, huh? Where’d you come up with that name?” You quizzed, wondering if maybe his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had just asked the doctor what the baby would be on his way out of the exam room. 

“Isn’t that what they do for sons in America? People name the baby boys after their father? He can be little Jinnie Jr. right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as you rode the elevator up to the right floor, and as cute and innocent as he looked right now, you couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. 

“Hmm… A son? Are we having a boy?” His lips were drawn in, turning into a thin line and you could read the guiltiness on his face. He nodded his head slowly, clearly trying to read your reaction after having basically spoiled the surprise. “You just couldn’t wait to find out, could you?” You teased, and he let out a little sigh of relief when he realized that you weren’t angry. How could you be angry though? He wanted to know and you weren’t going to get mad at him for finding out. 

“Maybe we can do like… A baby shower, and a surprise gender reveal for everyone else!” He proposed the idea, and he sounded so excited, there was no way that you could turn him down, plus it sounded like fun. “The guys really want to know whether they’re getting a niece or a nephew, they’re gonna be so happy to find out!” He had been talking so loudly on the elevator, but once the doors slid open, his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips lingering right beside your ear. “This is our secret though, don’t tell them.” 

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[sleep-paralysis-buddy]

Want

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: smut, age gap, size kink slightly, praise, foul language, Jim being fucking oblivious.

Hoppers old.

Or getting there at least.

And he knows it.

   But somehow you're still here in his bed, your youthful cheek squished against his chest, your arm thrown around his middle that he knows isn't as toned as it used to be. 'A Dad bod,' you'd called it. Said it was hot. He'd just rolled his eyes, giving your ass a playful swat.

   You'd met when you began secretary work at the police station. It was a long, pining heavy minute before he ever approached you romantically. You'd flirted with him, or tried, but he couldn't possibly fathom someone as young and vibrant as you wanting him. He'd tried to avoid you, despite working so closely together. That all changed one night when he had to stay late to do paperwork, and you'd volunteered to stay behind to help. He'd tried insisting you go home, telling you he'd take care of it, saying you should get some rest. But you'd stayed, helpfully pointing out that it'd go twice as fast with 2 people.

   So there he was, 1am with the prettiest girl to give him any attention in a long time, your thigh bumping his under the table. He crosses his legs. Partially to put space between the two of you, partially to hide the growing tent at the front of his pants.

The view you'd given him wasn't helping. The white button down you wore was slightly undone at top, unbuttoned in you're frustration, allowing him a view of your breasts swelling past the top of your bra everytime you bent to retrieve your dropped pen.

   You're barely through half the stack of reports and files when you suddenly stand and lean across him, your hair in his face, your chest brushing his arm.

   'Sorry Cheif, just looking for the notes that go with this case,' you explained, flipping through the stack. He let out an involuntary groan, the scent of your shampoo flooding his senses, his cock straining painfully against his pants. If you heard, you never let on, finding the folder you were looking for and sitting back down. Looking back now, the memory makes him chuckle, wondering how he'd been so oblivious to your advances.

   'I'm gonna..ima run to my office quick,' he said, standing and turning quickly, 'left some notes somewhere in my desk. Might be a minute.'

   'O-oh! Take your time!' You told him, but you looked-and it had to be his mind playing tricks on him-disappointed? He shook his head as he hurried off to his office, quickly shutting the door behind him, fumbling with his belt, desperate for some relief from the pressure. He fell back into his chair, giving his throbbing cock a couple long pumps.

   'Fuuuck,' he breathed, precum leaking out of the angry red tip and onto his fingers. He used it to glide his hand over himself with ease, moaning as he imagined it was your spit, your pretty lips wrapped around him, bobbing your head up and down, those big innocent eyes staring into his. Your name tumbles from his mouth, sweet on his tongue.

   Just as he felt his release rising in him, there was a knock on the door.

His door.

That he forgot to lock.

    There was no time to stuff himself back into his pants before you're opening the door and peaking your head in, so he just spun his chair to face front, hiding his lap under his desk.

   'Hop? Everything good? You find those papers?' You asked, knitting your eyebrows together, making him want to kiss the bump that formed between them.

   'Oh, yea, no, sorry,' he said a little too quickly, 'I uh, I think Flow might have had them last, but she keeps her desk locked at night. No big deal.' He shrugged, wishing you'd take his explanation and leave. He was still exposed under his desk, twitching, his release still sitting on the brink.

   Instead of leaving, you stride into the room, shutting the door behind you, 'maybe they're still in here. Here, lemme che-,' you'd walked around the edge of his desk and he'd nearly jumped to stop you.

   'No! That's REALLY ok, it doesn't matt-,' he didn't speak quickly enough, watching in horror as you shut the drawer open next him, finally exposing his dirty secret to yourself. He braced himself, ready for you to scream, ready for you to call him a dirty old man, a pig, ready for the profanities to spill like venom from the mouth he'd wished so many times to kiss.

   But it never came. You just stood there, your mouth open in a small O shape, your clear and intelligent eyes wide.

   'I'm so sorry,' he breathed, and moved to pull his pants back up, his face cherry red, 'God, I'm sorry, please-' you stopped him in his tracks, resting your small, soft hand on one of his large calloused ones. You bit your lip and looked up through your lashes at him, and he swears he's never wanted anyone or anything like he did in that moment.

   'I thought- thought you-,' you spoke softly, fumbling over your words, and then you whispered 'I thought you didn't want me.'

   He pulled you forward by your waist at this, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing out shakily, 'you have no idea how long I've wanted...' He trailed off, brushing his hands lightly over both sides of your face, like you're delicate and precious, like he could break you if he touched you too hard.

He wanted to break you.

   'Can- can I?' He looked at your lips as he asked his half question. He didn't need to finish. You knew what he meant because you wanted the same thing. You nodded slowly and bit your lip again. He threw  his head back and whispered a curse under his breath, and sighed, 'let me do that for you.'

   He kissed you softly at first, his pointer finger and thumb tilting your head by your chin. And then he got hungrier, greedier. He kissed you like you were fresh air and he was a man drowning, his fingers digging so hard into your sides that you could imagine his fingerprints bruising onto your skin, his teeth nipping the soft flesh. He kissed down your jaw and neck, his stubble scratching and tickling your skin in just the right way, and you moaned, digging your nails into his back. He pulled you down onto his thigh, one leg on each side of his, the pressure and friction on your clit making you dizzy.

   'So damn beautiful,' he said it against your skin, like it pained him, and it did. In his mind, this was a fluke. There was no way you'd want him more than once. Sex with an older man, that's all it was. Just a taboo to you.

   So when you ran your hands down his chest and sang his praises, he thought he was going to melt right then and there.

   He put his hands on your hips and began guiding you on his thigh, relishing the way your eyes flit back into your head. 'Yeah sweet girl? Feel good? Come on, ride my thigh, get yourself nice and wet for me. That's a good girl' he growled the last part, ripping open your shirt, the snap buttons coming open with a loud CLACK. He bent his head and softly kissed your chest, sucking and leaving hickeys anywhere that wasn't covered by your bra.

   As if reading his mind, you reached around and undid the clasp, letting both your shirt and your bra fall off your shoulders. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he looked at you. The moonlight from the window behind him illuminating your skin, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you ground yourself onto him. The need to be close to you was settled in his very bones, every fiber of his being wanted you like an addict wants a drug.

   He had so much he wanted to do. He wanted to sit you on the desk and bury his face between the pillowy thighs he so often found himself daydreaming about. Wanted to see you bruising your knees for him, your eyes glassy while he hits the back of your throat. But all that could wait. He needed you too badly to take his time, to worship your body like the alter it was to him.

   'Want me pumpkin? Hm? Need me to stretch you out good? Make you feel full?' He purred, brushing the hair from your face. You could hardly answer, your mind already so scrambled for him, babbling your pleas and cries.

   He lifted you by your thighs, his hands finding home on your ass under your skirt as he held you above him, ready to lower you down onto him. He couldn't believe his luck as he watched you in wonder, his head falling forwards and into the crook your neck as you lowered yourself onto him, your tightness wrapping around him, ripping a loud, full moan from his throat. He helped you bounce, keeping you upright as you fucked yourself onto him, kissing him hard and deliberately.

   'Jus' like that honey. Fuck, you're so good. Wanted you for so long. Drive me absolutely insane,' you felt him say against your lips. He hugged you tight to him, one hand cradling the back of your head, and bucked his hips up into yours, holding you and cooing sweet praises as he used you, just like he always wanted to. The amount of times he'd imagined this exact scenario at night, when the only one to keep him company was his hand, was uncountable.

   He could feel his orgasam rising again already, and he would have been disappointed in himself if he couldn't feel you reaching your own breaking point.

   'Gonna cum for me? Hm? Gonna cum for your Police Cheif like a good little whore?' Oh, he was loving this. 'Where do you want it baby? Where do you want me to cum? All over that pretty face? On those perfect tits of yours?'

   You're were panting, your face pressed to his shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

   'Jim- I,' you stumbled over your words, moaning as he hit your sweet spot over and over again, 'pill. Have the pill.'

   His head spun, 'yea? Want me to fill you up with my cum? I wanna see it leaking all over those perfect fucking thighs of yours, oh FU-' he almost loses himself to his own words, hips slamming messily against your ass.

   'Cum for me princess. That's it, be a good girl, scream it for me.'

   And you did, your release white hot. You pulled down the collar of his shirt, biting his shoulder, leaving teeth marks he was still admiring in the mirror the next day.

   He followed you closely, shooting thick, hot ropes inside of you, moaning and cursing, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you shook against him.

   'Did so good f'me honey. Made me cum so hard. God,'  he buried his face in your neck and breathed in, high off the scent of you and him mixed together.

  

Now, as you stir against him, whining softly in your sleep when he kisses your forehead because he just can't help himself, he smiles softly.

   He might be old, but damn do you love him. And if a few gray hairs don't bother you, then he can keep coping with it.

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #hopper #hopper stranger things #hopper x reader #hopper smut #jim hopper x reader smut #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper x afab!reader #jim hopper smut #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things smut #strangers things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows there's only one way to contend with what Carl did, and he will gladly do it for you. All he wants is his house, his kid and his girl. You on the other hand don't know quite how to deal with anything that's going on, because it all seems out of your control. 

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, fighting, blood, and age gap (18+)

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You were so anxious for your first day of work, you actually woke up way too early and spilled blazing hot coffee all over your scrubs, forcing you to make a detour back to the bedroom to get changed. All you seemed to be able to think about was that video. That goddamn video. You wished you never looked in that box in the attic.

Once again, you were on the verge of tears as you pulled on a clean top and went to wake Noah up for the day. Everything felt like too much right now unless he was with you. The fact that you were as dependent on Noah as he was on you was probably nothing to brag about, but he really lit up every time you read to him or made him food. And you felt much better inside when he was snuggled up with you or holding your hand. 

You felt like his mom. You felt like you belonged here with him. He trusted you to take care of him, and you always would. But your confidence where Bradley was concerned felt stunted now, and you couldn't even talk to him about it. If you were even strong enough to bring it up at all. 

Noah climbed out of bed and went right to you for a hug, never questioning if he was welcome with you. "Morning, sweet Noah," you whispered against his soft hair. "Did you have happy dreams?"

He yawned and said, "Yeah. I was a pink dinosaur, and all of the other dinosaurs were afraid of me. So I got to eat all the Skittles."

"Wow," you said with a laugh as you carried him into the kitchen for breakfast. "That's the best dream I've ever heard of."

"Yeah, I know." 

He ate some eggs while you successfully drank your coffee and vanilla creamer without spilling it this time. And when you dropped him off at daycare, the same girl was working at the front desk.

"Hi, Noah," she said sweetly before handing you the clipboard to sign with a bland expression. You kissed Noah on the cheek and watched him walk in with the other kids before you signed your name. "And will you be picking him up again today, or should we be expecting another babysitter?"

You froze, and a startled laugh escaped your lips. "I'll be picking him up. And I'm the only babysitter." She appraised you again, so you added, "Only the best for Lieutenant Bradshaw and his son," before you spun on your heel and strolled out to the parking lot. 

You were driving the Bronco. You were in charge of Noah. Bradley was acting like some sort of sugar daddy boyfriend with the credit card you had tucked in your wallet. You shouldn't have been feeling insecure at all. You tried not to think about anything except getting to work on time for your first day. 

And being out of the house did help. You met all of the doctors and other nurses, and some of them were your age. Dr. Kelly treated you to lunch, and you got to chat with her a bit. You learned you'd get to assist with a few special needs kids later in the week. It was exciting. You had your own tiny workspace. Being there occupied your mind. 

But when you were asked to fill out a small stack of new hire paperwork in the afternoon, your pen stopped on the page multiple times. You hesitated twice before you eventually wrote Bradley's address as your own. You wrote his name and phone number down as your emergency contact, but you felt ridiculous writing 'boyfriend' where it asked for your relationship to him. After a brief debate, you wrote it anyway and moved on. And a beneficiary for your life insurance? Well, you didn't really have anyone else, so you put Noah. 

And then when you handed everything back in, you felt kind of like you were pretending to be an adult. 

----------------------------

Bradley waited on his bunk for Carl to return. It was getting late, and he wondered where the fuck he was. Without completely dismantling the tiny room, Bradley had searched through as much of Carl's shit as he could. And that was after confirming that he was only missing the one polaroid that you sent with him. 

His ears were ringing. Fingers twitching. He was absolutely repulsed by the thought of anyone else looking at that picture. But especially Carl. That was a line you just didn't cross with a bunkmate. Bradley had seen some wild shit in his days, walked in on some things he wished he could unsee. But you simply did not mess with personal items. And you certainly didn't take anything under any circumstances without permission. And if it was anything pertaining to a wife, girlfriend or significant other, it was absolutely forbidden. 

And if you broke any of these unwritten rules, well... you should know what you were in for. 

When Bradley heard a key in the door close to midnight, his hands automatically curled into fists. Your pretty face popped into his mind, smiling up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips. Even though you weren't here, you deserved to be defended right now. He'd protect you and Noah until he used up his dying breath. And that just meant things weren't looking too hot for Carl at the moment. 

The other man strolled in wearing his gym clothes, and it struck Bradley that Carl was probably a little older than he was. He was in good shape, too, but that wouldn't stop Bradley from beating the absolute shit out of him if necessary. 

"What's up, Carl?" he asked, remaining seated with his fists planted on either side of him on the bed. When Carl seemed barely able to meet his eyes, Bradley knew for sure.

"Hey," he replied awkwardly. "Just wanted to hit the gym when it was empty."

Bradley just watched him for a few seconds, silently demanding eye contact. When Carl finally stopped bumbling around and met his eyes, Bradley slowly stood. "Where is it?"

Carl's eyes flashed with panic as Bradley rolled his shoulders and took a step closer in the already limited space. "What? What are you talking about?" He tried to back away, but there was really nowhere to go. 

"If you make me ask again, it's going to be a lot worse for you, man."

"I... I..." Carl's eyes followed Bradley's left hand as he loosened his fist. And then Bradley slammed him back against the door. 

"You know better," Bradley growled. "This isn't your first deployment. You know the rules. And it belongs to me. Where. Is. It?"

"The photo?" Carl whispered as Bradley pressed the heel of his hand against his sternum with even more pressure. 

Bradley raised his voice. "Where the hell is it? It better have never left this fucking room."

"I have it!" Carl swore, and Bradley released him.

"Get it," Bradley said as calmly as he could, but his voice was shaking. He watched Carl dig around in his bedding, procuring the photo of you and your perfect tits and your barely concealed pussy. Bradley had a flashback to Noah's birthday party when Jake kissed you. Then he pictured you at the fraternity house, drunk and helpless. Carl was about to pay a pretty large price. 

"Here," he grunted, extending the polaroid out to Bradley. Once he set it down on top of his dresser, making sure the photo was still perfect, he turned back to Carl and sucker punched him right on the nose. 

Blood was gushing onto his gym shirt as Bradley said, "That's fucked up, Carl. You had my photo in your bed."

He was holding his nose, looking at Bradley with guilty eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"That's my girl, you piece of shit." Bradley was seething as he rammed Carl back up against the door. 

"She's your girl?" he asked, trying to stop the bleeding with both hands now. "She looks barely legal. How old is she?"

Bradley released him and took a step back before he did more damage than he intended to. "Do you really think it's a good idea to ask me that, Carl? You probably jerked it to my girlfriend after you stole my photo, and now you're asking me how old she is?" He was panting, letting the rage flow through him, and then both hands curled into fists again.

"Shit, I didn't- I wasn't-"

"You're not very bright, are you?" Bradley asked, cutting him off. "I'll let you walk out of this room with your face mostly intact as long as you guarantee that you'll wear your bruises around this carrier without even so much as looking in my direction. And don't you dare visit the infirmary. Your indiscretion doesn't blow back on me. You got it?"

Carl looked resigned as he lowered his hands from his face and nodded. "Yeah. I got it."

Then Bradley landed one more punch, hard as hell, and Carl staggered around the room for a few seconds before he managed to take himself out into the hallway and toward the bathroom. Bradley carefully picked up his polaroid, and his heart ached. He was yours, and he'd have done anything to see your beautiful face in person right now.

And if Carl didn't so much as speak to him or look at him again for the rest of the deployment, it would be just fine with Bradley.

-------------------------

You always felt like you were rushing around. When you got out of work an hour early one Wednesday, you decided to use the time to go grocery shopping before you picked up Noah. It was easier to get just the necessities this way. The downside was that you were definitely getting lost in your own thoughts as you stood in the produce area selecting apples. 

It was almost a relief that Bradley hadn't contacted you yet. If you had to look him in the eye right now, you weren't sure you could do it without crying. That USB drive was currently on top of the refrigerator where you couldn't see it, but it was still enough to upset you when you thought about it. But at the same time, you missed your boyfriend and wanted him to come home, and you knew Noah would benefit from talking to him.

You wasted so much time looking at fucking apples that you were going to be late if you didn't get going. You winced as you used the purple princess credit card to pay for the food, and then you organized everything in the back of the Bronco. You loved driving it and briefly wondered if he'd still let you after he got home. 

You pulled into the gas station that was just a few blocks from Noah's daycare, once again using Bradley's credit card. You sighed as you inserted the card for payment and then started to fill the tank. And then you looked up toward the next row of pumps, and you were sure you knew that BMW. A second later, you met Meredith's gaze, and a chill went through your body.

You were afraid your voice was going to shake, but you called out, "You're not supposed to come near me."

She laughed maliciously. "This is a gas station, and I was here first. So maybe you should stay away from me."

"With pleasure," you snarled. You had to close your eyes against the sick feeling that rose inside you. Naked. You could picture her naked. Bradley used to love her. 

"You already ruined my life," Meredith snapped. "So your little restraining order stunt really doesn't matter to me." Then she was climbing into her car, and you watched her peel out of the parking lot and into traffic, heading in the opposite direction from Noah's daycare. 

Your hands were unsteady as you finished up at the gas pump. She was right; she had been at the gas station first. She was with Bradley first. She was Noah's mom before you ever came into the picture as his babysitter. She was everywhere, and she wouldn't go away.

----------------------

Bradley emailed you days ago to let you know he would be able to FaceTime with you and Noah tonight, but you'd only written back, "Sounds good." You didn't give him any updates. You didn't call him Daddy. You didn't say anything else. 

Sounds good.

He grunted as he worked out in the gym. The sooner he could get this deployment completed and get home, the better. Carl's face was starting to look better now, but Bradley smiled every time he saw the bruises. He had no idea what excuse the other man had given for looking like a raccoon with two black eyes and a bent nose, and he didn't really fucking care. If anyone assumed he was the one who caused the bruising, they probably also assumed it was warranted. 

Those polaroids were wrapped up and put away now. But Bradley wanted the real thing. Your body and your voice. He'd been thinking about how insufficient it felt to call you his girlfriend. Just the same way you'd always felt like more than Noah's babysitter to them. But now with your lack of a real response, Bradley felt a little foolish for thinking about proposing to you. 

When it was time to make the call home, he sighed deeply. And when you answered your phone on the living room couch, your expression was hesitant. 

"Princess," he rasped, holding the iPad with both hands. "Baby. I miss you."

It felt like an eternity before you responded. "We miss you, too." 

He had so much he wanted to say and talk about, but your voice was just a little too soft, and your eyes were just a little too sad. "What's wrong?" he asked, but you were already shaking your head.

"Here. Talk to Noah." And then you were out of the frame, and Noah was there. Bradley laughed as he talked about daycare and making something called peanut butter snails and going for hikes. He held up some of the coloring sheets he had worked on, and Bradley noted that you had dated all of them. You always did little things like that. Now he'd be able to see which days his son worked on the coloring sheets when he got home. 

"I miss you so much, bub."

"Will you come home soon?" Noah asked, and Bradley's heart absolutely melted. 

"Really soon. And we can go to the beach and maybe take a little vacation, okay? Now can you sit with Princess so I can talk to her, too?"

And then you were immediately back in the frame and scooping Noah onto your lap. So you must have been standing right there the whole time. 

"That's better," Bradley sighed. His house, his kid, his girl. "You have no idea how much I wish I was on that couch with you." 

You smiled softly. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

"I'm not sure, Baby. Not soon enough. Tell me about work."

So you indulged him in a few stories, and it sounded like you fit in there. You liked your coworkers, especially Dr. Kelly. You loved all the kids you got to talk to and care for all day. But you still seemed a little distant.

"Are you sleeping okay?" he asked. "Any issues?"

You pressed a kiss to Noah's cheek and said, "We just miss you. That's all."

"We want you to come home," Noah whined. 

"Please?" you added softly. 

"So soon," he reiterated, wishing he could give you both a kiss. "Watch for my emails?"

"I will," you promised. 

"I love you. Both of you."

Then you and Noah said in unison, "I love you, too." And then he had to end the call.

------------------------

Well it was done now. You were on your way to get the last few things from your place with Noah before you turned your key over to your landlord. Or former landlord. You were done paying rent here, and now you could start helping Bradley pay his mortgage. In fact, he would be home in a few days, and you'd talk to him about it then. There were actually a lot of things you wanted to have a conversation about.

"Do you remember when you came here for dinner? And I made you spaghetti in my little kitchen?"

"That was a long time ago," Noah insisted, and you held his hand as you walked up the sidewalk. "You live at my house now."

"Yep," you replied softly as you let go of his hand and dug around in your bag for the key you hardly ever used now. "Let's just hope that makes your Daddy happy and not annoyed since I never really gave him a verbal answer," you mumbled, finally locating the key. 

As you shoved it into the lock, Noah knelt down and picked something up from the porch. "What's this?" he asked, reaching his hand up to you.

Your eyes went wide. "Drop it," you said right away, and he let the piece of broken glass fall back to the porch. But there was more. Both of you were standing in it, and when you reached to turn the knob, there must have been a shard there.

"Shit," you gasped as your right palm started bleeding. Your heart was pounding in your ears as you kicked the door fully open. One of the panes of glass in the door had been smashed, and there was more of the mess on the floor inside. "Don't touch anything," you hissed, and Noah started crying. 

You kept him close enough to take a few pictures as soon as you were able to fumble with your phone. You took seven photos of all the glass plus the item that had been left. For you. It was just a dollar store coloring book, but there was a note on top of it written in crayon. Have fun playing house.

It had to have been from Meredith. Who else could have done it? She was already claiming you ruined her life. And ever since you saw her at the gas station, you were nervous that wasn't the last of her.

Blood was starting to pool a little bit in your upturned palm, and there wasn't much you could do at the moment except for ruin your shirt. "Let's get out of here," you whispered, and the two of you walked back across the porch, the glass crunching beneath your feet. 

You were able to buckle Noah with one hand, but even when you got back to Bradley's house, you were still bleeding. And the glass needed to be removed. So you finally caved and called Natasha. 

"I kind of need your help," you told her vaguely over the phone.

She laughed in response. "I kind of need a lot of things. What can I do for you?"

"Can you come by and help me remove a piece of glass from my dominant hand?"

"Fuck. Of course. I'm on my way," she replied, all tones of joking  gone. 

She was there in less than fifteen minutes, and she washed her hands right away. Then she used the sterilized tweezers that you handed to her to carefully remove the glass. "Just the one piece?" she asked, meeting your eyes. 

"I think so. I already checked Noah really thoroughly."

Nat's expression darkened. "Why don't you tell me what happened?"

You were pressing some gauze against your palm now. You might need stitches. You would probably benefit from getting stitches. But you couldn't do them yourself with your left hand, and you didn't want to leave Noah right now. Not even with Nat. He was watching a Mickey Mouse cartoon on the couch, and you didn't want him further away from you than that. 

"It was just some broken glass," you replied. 

"Here?" she asked, looking around the kitchen.

"No. At my old place. It's fine. I just need to tell my landlord about it, and I'll replace it." You were amazed how easily you were able to keep your voice steady. 

"Right," Nat replied with an unamused look. "Bradley will be home in a couple days? Do you want me to stay here until he's back?"

"Of course not. We're fine," you insisted, averting your gaze.

She stood to leave and sighed deeply. "Please call me back if you need anything, okay? And do us both a favor and don't lie to Bradley when you pick him up."

You pressed your lips together and nodded. "I won't," you said softly. And after she left, you took Noah into bed with you and snuggled him tight. 

---------------------

I hate Carl. I hate Meredith. I want Daddy to come home. Hope you enjoy your fic, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 32

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[thecameronchronicles]

No Nut November

TW: Masturbation references. Smut. Semi-public sex. Language.

SUMMARY: Partaking in ‘No Nut November’ would prove difficult when you become a bit too needy for him to stay true to his ambition. 

WORD COUNT: 1500

REQUESTED:

Anonymous asked:

Reader x one of the obx guys and him and his friends (so either the other kooks or other pogues) are challenging each other who can go the longest for no nut November and it’s been a few days and you’re being needy so you do everything to tease him until he finally gives in and fucks you

*I WANTED TO CHANGE THIS A BIT TO MAKE IT A BIT MORE INTERESTING…

No Nut November

The odds were stacked against him from the second he agreed to this display of self control; one thing he already wasn’t known for possessing. But by the two week mark, having lasted longer than anyone thought he would, JJ was busting at the proverbial and literal seam of his pants as you only made this worse. Purposely wearing only his shirts and tracing him such ways that if you’d only move slightly north, he’d certainly stain his shorts after denying himself that release for so long. But if there was one thing JJ Maybank was above all else, it was stubborn. Especially when money was on the line. And this was the deal he made with the other pogues. Two hundred dollars for who could last. But you had an ambition all your own. 

“JJ?” You asked as he relaxed in the hammock, trying to think of anything but how his cock throbbed at even just the sound of your voice. He was desperate, but too stubborn to let anyone else have that two hundred dollars. 

“I’m bored…”

“I think Sarah and Kie are-”

“I want to play with you…” You watched his jaw clench and his chest rise in a deep breath. 

“Sweetheart-”

“Please J…I miss you…” He sat on the edge of the hammock, tapping his knee as you knew the invitation well as it was all you had for the last two weeks. But no matter how skilled he was with his fingers or his tongue, you wanted HIM. Because there was nothing like the sensation of his fullness-the closeness. And for that, you were willing to risk appearing desperate or even feral. 

“I want YOU, JJ…”

“Baby, I can’t-” For this, you dropped to your knees, running your hands up his thighs and to his belt as he contracted against you. 

“Is THIS worth more than two hundred dollars? Shit, J, I’ll pay you myself, just fuck me!” 

“Ahem!” John B cleared his voice at your back as you turned to find Pope and Kiara smirking at your desperation. 

“You’re so screwed, J…” Kie commented as he was able to distance himself from you long enough to ignore the temptation you forced on him. 

A few hours later, you were all set around the inner heart of The Chateau. Some conversation of a recent movie spoken between Kiara and John B with passionate standpoints on either end as you could only focus on the fringe of the blanket at the ends of your fingers, unable to meet anyone’s gaze as you were too embarrassed. All because of a stupid deal that made you completely unhinged. And in the attempts he made to warrant a response from you, you would only ignore him, until he tried to pull your legs over him, to which, you’d just pull yourself into his room, slamming the door closed without a care of how this could embarrass him or yourself. 

He waited only a short while before following behind you, finding you in one of his shirts yet again, only now, without a care to use it as a means of seduction. But the second that you would find him wrapping his arms around you, no matter how tempting his embrace had been, you pulled away from him. Or at least tried to before feeling him pull his grip to between your thighs. As you tried to fight him, but found the expert circles and perfect pressure to draw you into more of an agreeable state than what you would have preferred. 

“JJ-”

He silenced you by a hand around your mouth, “You’re gonna want to keep this there…I’m not stopping until you know how sorry I am…And I know how much of a screamer my girl is,especially when I make her squirt…” You groaned into his palm as he was quick to take you to that precipice of that orgasm, only to edge you. 

“JJ, Please…”

“I know what you need…And I know exactly how to give it to you…but you need to give it to me when I’m ready…”

“Please, J…Nobody has to know…Just the tip…Just let me see it-fuck…please…” 

“You really love it that much?” He smirked against your ear as his hand had lowered so you could talk. 

“I need it, J…Please…” You began to rock your ass against him, rubbing and circling him, before his hands stationed at your waist. 

“Then we’re gonna make it worth two hudnred dollars.” He turned you suddenly on your stomach, the excitement of this moment having only been compared to that of your first time together. His hands were quick to undress himself before he would then position your hips up to him. 

“You want it and you’re gonna take it, right sweetheart?”

“Yes, J-I swear to God…”

“Nuh uh…Me. Swear. To. Me.” He ordered as he bent you into such an arch that he could look into your eyes as you nodded. 

“I swear to you, JJ…Whatever you want to do to me, I’m yours…” He smirked.

“Then perk that perfect little ass up for me and bounce it against me exactly how I like it…you know how…And I want you to flick yourself…do it slowly because I want this to last…” You nodded. “And you don’t get to come until I say.”

“Yes, JJ…”

“Goooood girl…” He purred, his cock suddenly inside of you as you whimpered. 

“Yes…” You grunted. “YES-” You spoke again behind tear eyes and clenched teeth. 

“You gonna make it worth it for me?”

“Yes…”

“Then why the fuck aren’t you moving?” You began to move forward, allowing his cock to find the familiarity of your inner walls clenching around him. With a hand to the bend of your neck, he held you in guidance to slow your desperate thrusts before you were left solely to his motions and the white knuckled grip into your shoulder. 

“J Please…it’s-”

“Don’t you dare complain. I’ve waited two weeks without doing as much as stroking and you’ve been walking around making it worse…wearing my shirts with no panties-yeah I noticed…” He paused to set a smack to your ass, “Bending over and moaning…on your knees and looking up at me like you know drives me crazy…So YOU don’t get to complain.” But as he spoke these words, he would take pity on you as he had been relentless, minutes fading into an hour and beyond as he’d break long enough to prolong his own release. All the while, edging you and spouting those dirty words that kept you ready for him without aggression reaching to the forefront. 

“JJ…”

“Turn over.” He finally allowed you a reprieve before you obeyed, his hands quick to pull his shirt from your torso as he was quick to attack each breast. Your fingers ran through his hair but were quickly set over your head. 

“You’ve done enough…I know you’ve had to wait too…So you’re gonna come,” He was silenced by his own motions, wincing at the reinsertion of his cock to your welcoming sex, “With me…It’s only fair-”

“Please, JJ…”

“Fuck…I missed those whines…Ke-k-keep whining for me…shit…” He grunted, head folded into your shoulder as you dug your nails into his arms, his muscles contracting to each movement, before his paces grwe to that familiar speed of a near climax. 

“You can stop and still win, J-” You reminded him. 

“Not a fucking chance in hell. You wanted it…you’re gonna get it. All. OF. IT!” He clenched, battering into you, finger rushing across your clit as you would squirt,allowing him the perfect slick to pound his final desperate movements into you before then falling at your side, breathless, pullingyo in to him. 

“To be honest…I can’t believe I lasted THIS long…” He confessed as you nodded. 

“I’m sorry, JJ…For being desperate-”

“I’m not.” You looked up at him, his hand softly tracing your jaw. 

“Because it means that you have 200 reasons to make it up to me.”

“200-orgasms?!” He nodded. 

“Before the end of November-” Your eyes widened. 

“That’s like five a day, J!”

“And this was one…” He winked. “Now do whatever you have to, get some water-shower,although that’s redundant…because when I come back…I’m using that perfect…dirty…little mouth…” You were left in awe as he moved back into the crux of The Chateau, applause awaiting him. 

“Guess you missed out, JJ…” Pope teased. 

“You can gladly have it. Because after that last dollar is spent, I’ll still get to have sex…” He teased as you blushed when hearing him speak in regards to you. But you couldn’t help the fact he was right…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

#jjmaybank #jjsmut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank #outerbanks #obx #outer banks smut #obx fanfiction #outer banks #rafe cameron

[books-and-omens]

Okay okay, so I really want to talk about S2 Crowley.

I’ve been thinking about who Crowley is in the book and who he is in the show, and the gap is significant. (@tbutchaziraphale has fantastic meta over here which I think is spot on.)

Book!Crowley is an optimist, yes? I mean, we’re outright told this:

“Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist. If there was one rock-hard certainty that had sustained him through the bad times—he thought briefly of the fourteenth century—then it was utter surety that he would come out on top; that the universe would look after him.”

Honestly, what a thing for a fallen angel to believe! And to me, it’s powerful, yes, but it never quite answers the question: where is he getting that certainty?

Tv!Crowley, in the meantime, is emphatically not this. He’s never been an optimist, not even in S1—although in S1, it might have been easier to look at A & C and consider them essentially similar to their book selves if a little out of sync.

In S1, Crowley gives the whole “don’t test them to destruction” speech. He cares about humanity deeply, even if he won’t admit it. He will try to stop the Apocalypse.

And there is still a moment when he feels helpless. When he has no innate optimism to carry him through, no deep belief in the universe looking after him or anyone. When his instincts tell him to run, and he tries to follow them. When he despairs. Aziraphale pulls him back out of that despair; they make a stand together. As we know, it works.

But the thing is, the thing is. I find tv!Crowley’s lack of optimism so very relatable.

I find despair so very relatable, too.

We live in an age of deep anxiety. (Climate change, anyone? Just for starters! The promise and wonder of the Moon landing and the end of the Cold War are far in the past; day to day, we deal with the effects of capitalism, of reactionism, of continued exclusionism. It’s far too easy to feel helpless.)

So in S2, Crowley is very much the same character as he was in S1, except we see it even clearer.

He is not an optimist. He wants to run; he wants to escape when faced with Gabriel’s arrival; he wants to protect Aziraphale and himself, and believes that the best—perhaps only—way to do that is by them retreating as far away from the problem as they can.

In Heaven, Crowley finds out about The Second Coming. His need to escape and to keep his angel safe become overwhelming. But he doesn’t tell Aziraphale about the Second Coming, does he? And his repeated offer to run away together doesn't even make sense to Aziraphale. (Not that Aziraphale would want to run if he knew. Quite the opposite, in fact, which Crowley must know.)

Anyway, Crowley already knows that the clock is ticking. Aziraphale is about to find it out. (Do you notice how often, in the last fifteen minutes of S2, we hear nothing in the background but the ticking of a clock?)

And just—the despair, the desire to retreat and escape when you are faced with overwhelming odds, with a fundamentally broken system, are so relatable.

And yet escape has never been the answer.

I hope, of course, that this is what we’ll see in S3 if there is a S3. Crowley deciding, emphatically, that running away is not the answer. 

We didn't get there yet. We were dropped out of the story at the darkest point.

But I think being at this point is precisely what makes Crowley’s confession at the end of S2 transcendent.

Because it’s the same conflict, isn’t it, except on a personal scale. Despair in the face of overwhelming odds, followed by the decision to not give up.

Crowley, who’d been ready to confess, sees what is likely to happen. He sees the way the deck is stacked against him, sees that he is unlikely to get through. He feels the coming loss. 

And then he does it anyway. 

He confesses anyway. He says what he has set out to say, gasping and clawing for every word. He does it at the point when everything appears lost.

And no, we don’t see the effects of it, not yet. We don’t see what he has launched, the hook that sank into Aziraphale, the change it has wrought in Crowley himself.

But his bravery won’t be lost.

We live in a dark timeline. I maintain that this is precisely what makes this story so compelling.

Be brave. Do the difficult thing anyway. Do it anyway. Do it anyway.

Even in the face of overwhelming odds. Especially in the face of overwhelming odds. While not being an optimist in the slightest.

This is what hope is.

This is what we have to do.

(And to all of us who’d lost a comfort story: I’m so sorry. I, too, am still grieving for it. I know, I know.

Emphatically: all is not lost.)

#good omens #good omens season 2

[topgun-imagines]

Day 12: Take It All Back

Pairings: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

Synopsis: Bradley says something he comes to regret in the heat of the moment.

Warnings: Arguments, insults, age-gaps, insecurities & drinking

Word count: 1.5k

A night out with Bradley’s friends was what started this argument in the first place. Normally, you tried to stay away from his friends. They were lovely people, you just found that whenever you and your boyfriend went out with them, he became an entirely different person. You weren’t sure what got into the pilot, but you figured it was best to remove yourself from the situation entirely. Sometimes, it seemed like he was embarrassed to just be in your presence. While you didn't want to admit it, you were fairly certain you knew why.

Bradley was over ten years older than you. Even though he had assured you that the age gap was no problem for him, you found it hard to believe him in times like this. While you knew that his friends were lovely people, you occasionally got the feeling that a few of them were weirded out by the large age difference. That wasn’t what bothered you, however. It was the fact that your own boyfriend would act as if you didn’t exist whenever you went out with his friends. It was as if you were nothing more than an inconvenience to him; nothing more than someone that he got stuck with taking care of rather than his loving girlfriend.

So, you did your best to avoid situations where you would have to hide in the corner, charring with Bob while Rooster entertained anything other than you. You didn’t mind chatting with Bob. Quite the opposite, in fact. You just wished that Bradley would spend a little more time with you when he was out with his friends.

However, even though you felt like this, you would never tell Bradley. You didn’t want to be seen as the clingy and insecure girlfriend. So, you suffered in silence and watched your Boyfriend mingle about the bar. It wasn’t all that bad. After all, you had Bob to keep you company.

This particular night, it was Bob’s birthday. Normally, you would have come up with some excuse to get out of going to the celebration at the Hard Deck. However, you had Bob had grown exceptionally close over the past few months in Miramar. Regardless of how badly you wanted to be curled up at home with your boyfriend and some music, you sucked it up to wish your friend a happy birthday.

The second you walked into the Hard Deck, you could tell how much love and effort had gone into making the bar look wonderful for the festivities. You could practically feel the pride radiating off Jake and Natasha for the entire night. Penny had insisted on making the cake from scratch and you could safely say that you had never seen a more beautiful-looking dessert. The few gifts that people brought were stacked on the bar top and most of the aviators were gathered around the pool table.

Once again, Bradley left your side the second you stepped into the bar, leaving you to go track down one of your other friends. Bob, as usual, was sitting just outside the rowdy group, nursing a root beer. You joined the shy WSO and watched the game of pool between Phoenix and Coyote unfold.

After a few hours, the group was well past the point of being drunk. Given the fact that no one had work in the morning, they were all loving the thought of not showing up on base with a hangover. Being someone who never drank that often, you found yourself stepping away from the group when they all started drinking heavily. Bob was the same. That was how you found him hiding out on the deck, watching the waves crash against the shore. “Why aren’t you inside? Enjoying your party.” You chuckled quietly, taking a seat next to him and sticking your feet in the sand. You tipped your head back to stare up at the stars above you. Everything was silent for the next few seconds. Just as you were about to stand up and leave, giving Bob some time to himself, the WSO spoke.

“Just needed a bit of a break,” You instantly understood what he meant. Especially when you heard the loud, intoxicated laughs coming from inside the bar. With a hum, the two of you descended into silence once more. A comfortable silence that was only broken by Bob’s next question. “How are things between you and Bradley?”

You had gone to Bob when you first started avoiding group outings. The man had been exactly what you needed. He simply let you vent, providing his opinion on the situation only after he knew that you were finished. For that, you were incredibly thankful. “Still the same.” You breathed with a heavy sigh. Bob offered you a look of sympathy, knowing the toll that this was taking on you.

It was when Bob laid a comforting hand on your shoulder that something clicked. The only reason you were here was to celebrate Bob’s birthday. Sure, you didn’t mind sitting out in the calm with the WSO, but Bradley had promised you that things wouldn’t be the same as they usually were. From where you were sitting, it sure looked like nothing had changed.

Before Bob could stop you, you were standing up off the deck and heading for the bar. With a sigh, Bob followed you into the brightly lit building. He watched with a slight grimace on his face as you hurried up to your boyfriend and tugged on his arm. Bradley followed you away from the group with a small pout on his face. Watching you silently from the corner, Bob saw the way Bradley’s face fell.

And then the man was storming out of the bar. You were hot on his heels, trying to keep your voice down but failing miserably. Despite what was most likely your best wishes, the majority of the Dagger Squad followed the two of you outside. Including Bob. Their jaws dropped at the sight in front of them.

Bradley was towering over you, his face flushed in our anger. The shy WSO was the only one to notice the terrified look on your face. You were good at hiding it. “Oh, could you grow up?” Your boyfriend snapped at you. Your jaw dropped, but he wasn’t done yet. “God, sometimes you act like such a child.” Gasps could be heard from the aviators only a few feet away.

In that moment, your heart dropped into your stomach. Bradley knew that the age gap between the two of you was something that you were most insecure about. He had just used that against you. Ever so slowly, you took a step away from him. The second there was more than a foot of distance between you two, his face changed entirely. It was as if he just realized what he had said; how he had hurt you.

Tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them. Wordlessly, you shook your head slightly and stepped away from your boyfriend. When he tried to stop you, you merely pulled your wrist from his hold. “I’m going home,” You whispered. Your attempts at keeping your tears at bay failed and you sniffled as they trailed down your face. The members of the Dagger Squad that were still standing outside offered you sympathetic looks as you walked back into the bar to collect your things.

Bradley didn’t even try to follow you in. After a few seconds and multiple attempts at wiping your eyes, you stepped back outside. Instantly, Bob was by your side. Jake had hauled Bradley off around the corner of the bar and you could distantly hear him tearing into him for his comment. “Let me drive you home.” Bob left no room for argument as he ushered you to his truck.

However, you still tried to protest. “Bobby, it’s your birthday. You shouldn’t have to drive me home.” With one look, he silenced any of your arguments. So, you climbed into his truck wordlessly. Bob pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive back to his house rather than yours. Silently, you thanked him. You couldn’t handle returning to your shared home with Bradley, without your boyfriend being there. Instead, he was at the bar, having both Phoenix and Jake rip his head off about how insensitive he was.

You had no idea what was going to happen in the next few days, but you knew that it was going to take you a long time to get over what Bradley said. Your head knocked against the window and your eyes closed. The soft sound of Bob singing along with the radio was the last thing you heard before you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Join the taglist!

Tagging: @ohtobeleah @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @els-marvelvsp @kmc1989 @nyx2021 @mploopssek @callsignharper @seitmai @kellyls04 @xeve9809 @scarletmeii @inkandarsenic @malindacath

#top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x female reader #top gun x reader #top gun fluff #top gun maverick #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley 'rooster' bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun whumptober #whumptober #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw whumptober #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fan fic #top gun movie #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #top gun imagine

[munson-blurbs]

Everybody Talks (Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You've worked hard to keep your crush on your best friend a secret, since he doesn't feel the same way. But when the Hellfire Club members open their big mouths, it threatens everything you've tried to hold together.

Warnings: some angst, fluff, mentions of financial insecurity

WC: 1.5k

--

“Pizza’s here!” you call out, carrying a stack of pies into the Wheeler house. “I got one pepperoni, one mushroom, and one plain for all the boring people,” you tease, looking directly at Eddie as you say it.

“I prefer classic,” he retorts, taking the boxes from your hands and setting them on the table. The rest of the guys start to crowd around him, paper plates in hand, practically drooling at just the sight of food. “Hey, hey,” he chastises, pushing them out of the way, “ladies first.” He offers you a plate and you take a slice, quickly moving aside before you’re trampled by the herd of hungry teenage boys.

“So,” Gareth says to Eddie between bites, “your last Hellfire campaign is over and done with. How’s it feel?”

“You wish,” Eddie scoffs, plopping down next to you on the sofa. “Just because I’m graduating doesn’t mean I’m done kicking your asses in D&D.” He chugs his plastic cup filled with Mountain Dew and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Anyone else want a refill?” he asks, shaking his empty cup before looking over at you. “Oh, shit; you don’t have anything to drink. Diet Coke, right?” Before you can protest that you can get it yourself, he’s up and pouring you a glass.

“Thanks,” you smile, taking a sip. The bubbles fizz on your tongue as you lean back, careful not to get too close to Eddie. Not that you don’t want to; the mere thought of him draping his tattooed arm around your shoulders makes you giddy. 

Just a few more months, you think to yourself, and I’ll be off at college, meeting new people, and I won’t have to worry about my embarrassing crush on my best friend.

“You guys ready for prom tomorrow?” Mike asks, interrupting your pity party.

Jeff nods. “Just gotta pick up a corsage for Barb, and she’s getting me a, um, a…”

“Boutonniere?” you fill in helpfully, and he snaps his fingers and replies, “yeah, that thing.”

“What about you?” Lucas pipes up, turning to Eddie. “You ever decide who to ask?”

“Oh, he decided,” Jeff laughs, earning a scowl from his friend. “Too bad she decided to go with Jason Carver.”

Dustin throws his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, you’re still hung up on Chrissy Cunningham?” He rolls his eyes. “I told you; she’s sweet, but she’s not your type. You need someone who’s as nerdy as you are.” His eyes scan the room. “You know, like Y/N.”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation, not at Dustin calling you a nerd; you know he means that with utmost affection. It’s not even the idea of Eddie asking you out that has you nervous; it’s the prospect of him laughing at the thought. You’ve done a great job hiding your puppy love a secret from him, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“Ha!” Gareth barks out. “She wishes!”

No. No no no.

Tears spring to your eyes, and you can’t think of a decent excuse to leave before you’re dashing through the door, letting the screen slam behind you. There’s no lie in what Gareth said; you do wish Eddie had asked you to prom. Every time that the subject of the dance came up, you’d waited with baited breath to see if he’d say something to you. But he’d always ignore it, eager to move on to the next topic. And now you knew why: he wanted to take Chrissy, but she was in love with someone else. How ironic.

You’re almost at your car when you hear the squeak of the front door opening. “Sweetheart, wait!” Eddie shouts, probably a bit too loud for the short distance between you two. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him softly as he jogs over to where you’re leaning against the passenger side door. “‘S not your fault.”

“Kinda is,” he shrugs, bringing you to the front steps and motioning for you to sit next to him. “I mean, I was the one who went to a freshman for romantic advice. That’s the last time I do that; I don’t care how nauseatingly cute he and his singing girlfriend are.” He gives a small chuckle, but neither of you meet the other’s gaze.

Hold on. Freshman? Singing girlfriend? “Eddie, what are you talking about?”

Eddie stops gnawing on his lower lip long enough to answer you. “I’m talking about you being embarrassed by Henderson’s painfully obvious last-ditch effort to get me to man up and finally ask you out.” His brows furrow when he sees your similarly confused expression. “That’s not…what are you upset about?”

“Um, Gareth blabbing to everyone that I wanted you to ask me to prom?” You finally allow yourself to look at him, noticing the dejected look on his face. 

“I couldn’t do that,” he mutters, resting his palm sideways over his mouth and shifting his body away from yours. His words come out all muffled, but you can still make out what they are.

“I wouldn’t have said no to you,” you reassure him, mustering up all of your courage to place your hand on his bouncing knee. He relaxes almost immediately, but he still seems sad. “Eds, what’s wrong?”

His eyes are misty when he turns back to you. “I couldn’t ask you to prom because…because I couldn’t afford it,” he confesses, twisting his skull ring around his finger anxiously. “The tickets, a tux, those fancy wrist things…best I could do is steal some flowers from Mrs. Wheeler’s garden.” He hums out a sad laugh. “‘M sorry, sweetheart. I wanted to take you, but I knew I’d just be letting you down.”

“But Jeff said you were going to ask Chrissy,” you point out.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong; Chrissy’s nice and everything, but I just said that so he’d get off my back. Because if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t shut up until I made a move.” He sighs. “His dad’s a lawyer, and his mom runs her own business. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to worry about having enough food in the house, let alone all the extra shit like prom.”

You’re quiet for a beat, letting everything sink in. You knew Eddie lived in Forest Hills Trailer Park, and you knew money was often tight. Wayne worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, but the plant didn’t pay nearly enough. There were many occasions where you’d spotted Eddie eyeing something in the grocery store and instinctively thrown it in your cart for him, but for some reason, it hadn’t even occurred to you that finances was the reason he’d avoided talking about the prom.

“I wish you’d told me,” you finally say. “I would’ve understood.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie rubs his nose against his hand, another nervous tic of his. “That was never the problem. You’re the most understanding fuckin’ person I know. You just…I dunno. You deserve the whole ‘prom’ experience, not whatever half-ass version I could offer you.”

At that, you can’t help but giggle. “Eddie,” you begin, “do you really think I wanted to go to prom so I could wear a fancy dress and uncomfortable shoes in a stuffy gym? I just wanted to dance with you, and then spend the night on your couch watching stupid movies and eating junk food and talking shit about everyone who was there.” You look deep into his chocolate brown eyes, nearly losing yourself in their beauty. “I just wanted to be with you.”

Eddie stares at you, gaze traveling down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“If you don’t, I’ll kiss you.” 

Your mouths crash together clumsily, but you’re too happy to care. You soak in every part of it: Eddie’s stubble rubbing against your chin, the way he tastes like stale cigarettes and marinara sauce, his curls brushing your cheeks. He only breaks the kiss to take a breath, and then he’s back, more purposeful in his movements the second time around. He brings his hand to your jawline, caressing it gingerly with his thumb as he parts your lips with his.

“Can’t believe I just did that,” he muses, smiling at you shyly. “Been wanting to kiss you for too goddamn long.” He leans in, frowning when you place your hand on his chest to stop him. “What?”

“You gotta take me on a date before you kiss me again,” you inform him, lacing your fingers through his. “When are you free?”

“Uh, right now? We can grab ice cream at Scoops. Lemme just get my keys.” He stands up quickly to head back towards the house.

“Wait, Eddie,” you call out to him, “what about the guys? And pizza night?”

“Who cares? I have a date with the most beautiful girl in Hawkins.”

--

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

[moonydustx]

So I have this thing...

I need more Law x Reader fics pleeeaassee (；ＴДＴ)

Anyway...

May I ask a reader (up to you what gender) reacting to law proposing to her? Which I doubt canon law would even do but I guess since it's fanfiction, who cares if it's Canon, right???

OMG, this is incredible, hold my hand and I'm with you on this, thank you so much for the request. In my HCs on the Law (I will still post them) I think if it was important for him to do it without even blinking. Surely it would be something more discreet, a small ceremony between just two? I don't know, I might be rambling too much.

Apologies because I didn't have much time to review and maybe I got carried away writing it. I hope you enjoy!

Important: italics are for flashbacks and character readings aloud.

The proposal - favorite moment (part 01)

Part 02 - Part 03

Law counted the minutes until night arrived, it was one of his favorite moments. That was when you would sneak around the submarine and end up knocking on the door on it. In most of these situations, you didn't get out anytime soon. He's not much of a follower on the calendar, celebrating each month together - and come to think of it, everything happened so naturally that it was decided on which day it started to be difficult for you to be a boyfriend.

Like so many other nights, you found yourself doing what was one of the only things Law could name as a hobby. You were nestled between his legs, your body resting on his chest as you attentively read another book. He found himself leaning against the wall, one of his hands resting on his body while with the other he tried to leaf through one of the new editions of Sora comics that he had picked up on the last island he visited.

He had already lost count of how many times the two of you had wasted hours tangled up in his bed reading and something else he was used to hearing you sniffle at something, like you were doing this time. His eyes looked away from the painting and went straight to where you were reading, just out of curiosity. The other times you were sniffling, he had found you reading about some character who died, some reunion, some couple who got together. This time, from what he could see, it was a marriage proposal.

He already knew it was an important topic for you. He also knew that if he had to choose to spend his entire life with someone, it would be you. Law had thought about the hypothesis a few times and when reading the small excerpt from the book, he let himself think about the idea.

"Wow." your feet were planted in front of an immense showcase. Dresses were stacked side by side in various sizes and textures, some with huge trains and others full of silk.

"Don't tell me you're one of those marriage freaks." Ikkaku planted himself next to you, next to Bepo.

"They are beautiful." the bear confirmed, touching the glass.

"Not freak…" you tried to find the words, you really didn't want to sound like a crazy person. "I mean, marriages are two people coming out in love to the world, to the government, to whatever god they may believe in or to no god at all, as if nothing could intervene or separate them."

"Okay, insane then." Shachi appeared behind you, mumbling.

"Actually, that's a nice way of thinking." Ikkaku replied to him, watching you just shrug. "And I won't deny it, they are beautiful dresses."

"Time to go." The captain's voice echoed closer than you imagined, as if he had been there the whole time listening.

Seeing the crew members move forward, agreeing to the captain's request, Law took a few seconds to evaluate the display that had distracted everyone. He could just be daydreaming, but one day you would look incredible wearing a dress like that along with the new name you would carry. Ms. Trafalgar.

From that day on, the idea of ​​proposing to you never left his mind, Law just needed to find the perfect opportunity and it appeared before his eyes.

"Okay…" your choked voice took him out of his reverie. "That's enough tears for today and I'm getting sleepy." you closed the book, turning towards him and snuggling even closer against Law's body.

"Do you mind if I keep reading some more?" he asked and you just mumbled no. His hand got tangled in your strands of hair and it didn't take long for unconsciousness to take you away.

Law gave himself a week to put the plan into practice. The small room at Polar Tang was tidier than usual however you could notice Law more tense than usual behind his back.

"Everything is fine?" you asked, quickly turning to face him. Law seemed distracted from the book in his hands.

"Everything amazing." his lips quickly touched the top of your head. It was now. All the other battles he had faced had not even come close to the anxiety he felt at that moment. "That book you were reading last week?"

"Ah, it's this one. I'm almost done. It's a period romance, princess, knight and all the little things that involves." you laughed, knowing that from your description he would hate the book. "There's no point trying to convince me to read Sora, this one is much cooler."

"So cool you were crying the last time you read it." he said in a teasing tone.

In a casually planned way, even if it went unnoticed in your eyes, he placed the comic he was reading on the bed.

"It's because he was so sweet to her, made an amazing statement."

"Really? Let me see." He moved even closer to your back, looking for space on your shoulder to follow the written words and find the perfect cue.

"Here. Can I read it?"

"Please." he asked, feeling his hands sweat cold.

"Of all the countries I've visited, I don't think I've ever found a home except in you. You've been my home, my safe haven." You started reading, already feeling yourself melting with those words. At the same time, Law took out a small box hidden behind one of the pillows. "So let me be the sword that protects you, the heart that loves you infinitely. I thought happiness would only find me in the next life until I found myself lost in you. What do you mean by that, my love? So, the The knight fell to his knees, the wounds of the battle he faced seemed not to bother him, not when Annya's eyes rested on him. Annya then heard the four words that carried a lifetime of promises…"

"Would you marry me?" Law's voice echoed alongside yours.

Before you could ask what he thought, a small black box appeared in your field of vision. Inside it, a golden ring with a small heart symbol glittered. The book fell from your hands, finding your lap, as you turned to your boyfriend.

"Law?" at that moment, your voice was not the most reliable. As shaky as she was, your vision was blurred by what you suspected were tears. Your hands covered your lips, still not believing what you were seeing.

"Maybe my sword heals you more than defends you, but that doesn't mean I'll let anyone hurt you in this world. You're my home, my safe haven and I can't wait for you to be my wife. I'd even kneel, but It's a little complicated." he smiled, seeing you still paralyzed on top of him. "So, would you marry me?"

"Yes." the first time came out as a whisper. "Yes Yes Yes!" with each new time the word left your lips, you allowed euphoria to take over your body.

Law took your hand, placing a small kiss before putting on the ring and repeating the gesture, as soon as the jewel was in the place where it belonged. His hands pulled you so your legs were around his waist.

"That's…" you even tried to speak, but it was impossible to put everything you felt at the moment into so few words. You saw him pull out a ring that was the same color as yours, without all the details. "Let me do it."

Before he could put it on his own finger, you took it from his hand and repeated the same thing he had done to you. He placed a small kiss between the tattooed fingers and let the jewelry take its rightful place.

"I don't believe." You looked at your hand and then at him. "Law, that was so amazing."

"You're incredible. I can't wait to see you become Mrs. Trafalgar. My beautiful, smart, a little crybaby…" he wiped away your tears, bringing a laugh from your lips. "My dear wife."

"I love you so much." you cupped his face, taking his lips to yours.

Even though it was full of emotions and promises, it was a calm kiss. Law, like you, wanted to record every second of that moment, every inch of skin kissed, every touch.

In the end, Law was also a marriage nut - just with his dear Lady Trafalgar.

----

Little extra:

Law was never a big fan of public displays of affection, but that morning he had made an exception. Seeing you happy, showing off your new ring and the promise of marriage, ideas of what to do on the date, honeymoon suggestions. He couldn’t deny it, it was amazing to see how happy you were with the whole situation.

His happiness was short-lived when he saw three sullen faces - one of them looking like a bear - sitting in front of him.

"So Law, my friend." Penguin began.

"Shut up, it's me."

"But I'm his best friend." Bepo grumbled.

"What do you want?" he asked, trying to understand what the three were discussing so much

"Which of the three of us will be the best man?" Shachi warned and Law watched the three in front of him cross their arms and wait for a response.

Before he could respond, Law felt two arms slide and lock around him.

"We haven't decided that yet guys. We can talk about it later." you asked and watched them begin to argue among themselves who would be what.

"Thanks." Law muttered, making you laugh. You bent down to his ear level.

"And you, I'll be waiting for you in the room. I got someone to cover my duties today, now I want to continue feeling what my dear fiancé can do for me." In contrast to the whispered and sexy voice that left your lips, you left a chaste kiss on Law's cheek and left towards the dorms.

#fiction #reader insert #one piece #no use of y/n #requests open #trafalgar d law x reader #law x reader #law x you #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader

[to-the-stars8]

Learning to Love Slowly

Jason Todd x Reader All Chapters AO3

67- Baths and Colds

Jason pressed his palm flat against your forehead, grimacing when he felt just how hot you were. You’d been sick the past few days, complaining endlessly of your stuffy nose and headache, but overall, you insisted that you would be feeling better soon. That’s why Jason felt fine to leave for a few days, but when he returned he found everything quite the opposite of what you had insisted on.

Usually, your room was clean but now there were clothes thrown about, dishes stacked on the nightstand, and, next to the bed, a waste basket overflowing with used tissues. Upon approach, it was easy to see that whatever you had had taken its toll on you. The color had drained from your face and there was a gleam of sweat across your forehead from the fever. You’d hardly greeted Jason when he told you not to talk anymore since your voice was hoarse and strained. 

“You’re burning up,” He said, pulling the covers from over you, he continued.  “You can’t lay here and get even more sick. Come on, let’s get you into the bath.”

You didn’t protest, but, instead, made groans of displeasure as you were moved. Jason wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you to the bathroom, taking most of your weight. You smelled like sweat, and when Jason’s hand slipped under your shirt he could feel the stickiness of your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumbled, leaning on him as he switched on the bathroom light. Jason told you not to worry as he removed himself from you, working on getting your shirt off. He started to help you with your bottoms before you strictly insisted that you could undress yourself from there. Getting the hint, he turned to the tub. 

Jason waited until the water got to just the right temperature before turning back to you. You were standing behind him awkwardly, leaning against the sink with your arms folded in front of you Standing, he started to lead you to the bath. 

Once you were in, still sniffling and coughing, Jason took a wash rag to rub against your skin, watching as you leaned into his touches. Jason found himself glad that the fear of touching or being near you wasn’t there anymore. It let him do this, to take care of you and there was pleasure in that. So often you sought to make him comfortable, that every chance he got to do the same it felt good. 

Running the rag under your jaw and across your shoulder, you let out a pleased sigh. “Everything hurts.”

Jason chuckled. “I’m sure. You got a nasty cold.”

“Yeah, it sucks.” You mumbled, moving the water around a bit.

Smiling, he leaned over to press a kiss on your shoulder. “You’ll be better soon.”

You didn’t say anything, looking away from your boyfriend to focus on the ripples in the water. Jason washed you, making light conversation by telling you about his day. You didn’t seem to mind listening, commenting now and then on something that interested you particularly. 

“And, then, the guy comes around the corner with a fucking sandwich in his mouth,” Jason laughed. You tried to laugh along with him, but a cough cut you off. The sound was loud and nasty, echoing off the walls of the bathroom. “You want to get out to lay down?”

“I do, but I don’t want to move,” You mumbled, pushing your body closer to the wall. 

Jason hummed, moving from his knees to stand over you. “Wrap your arms around my neck. I’ll carry you.”

You didn’t even have the chance to protest before Jason was wrapping his arms around you. He moved to stand you in the middle of the bathroom, naked, before he wrapped you in a warm towel. 

He patted the towel over your body, making sure every bit of you was dry, before strongly telling you that he would be back and to not move. You didn’t, not because of his orders, but rather that every time you moved you felt like the world was spinning. Your sinuses were stuffed, leaving you with a headache and dizziness. However, nothing felt worse than the embarrassment and guilt. You were sure you smelled and looked horrible and wondered if Jason noticed. You were almost entirely sure he did—He was trained by Batman, after all. And, it was such an inconvenience, you felt, for him to have to take care of you. 

When he came back, you noticed the pajamas in his hands and you were almost horrified that he was now going to dress you. 

“I can do it,” You said, reaching out and taking the clothes from his hands. Jason tried to say that it was alright, but you chose not to hear him. You started with your underwear, bending over to put them on, but suddenly falling forward from a rush of dizziness. Luckily, Jason caught you, pushing you upright and fixing your clothes for you. 

“I’m sorry,” You sniffled, tears welling in your eyes as you felt helpless. 

Jason shushed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and picking you up. As he held you he pressed kisses to your temple, bringing you not to your bed but to the living room. You didn’t even have a chance to ask why he had brought you in before laying you down on the couch. He fluffed up some pillows behind your back and pulled a blanket over you. It was then you finally broke. 

“I’m so sorry,” You said, trying not to cry. “You don’t need to do this.”

Jason looked at you, confused. “There’s no reason for you to be sorry, sweetheart, and I want to do this. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. You’ve done it for me so many times, let me do it for you.”

You nodded, still feeling like a bit of a burden, but more comfortable to let him take care of you. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“I think I’ll be fine, considering all the things I’ve been through,” Jason chuckled, tucking you in. “Now, just relax here for a while. I’ll be back.” 

You relented, relaxing against the cushion and watching some show you had never seen before. As you lulled between sleep and awake, you’d hear Jason moving about your apartment. A few times you thought about waking yourself up to see what he was doing, but you were too comfortable. You were about to slip into a deep sleep when you heard Jason whispering your name. He said it a couple of times, before stopping, coming over to feel your head, and then leaving. 

“Jason?” You said languidly. The receding footsteps returned and you opened to see Jason crouching next to you. 

“Hey, you’re doin’ better, baby,” He said, reaching out and brushing his hand over your forehead. “Fever’s gone down a bit.”

“That’s good,” You said a bit more coherently. 

Jason hummed. “You wanna be moved to your bed? I changed the sheets so now it’s all clean.”

You nodded, too tired to speak, and reached out to Jason for him to pick you up. He did so without question, holding you close to him as he walked through your apartment confidently. It was almost seconds that he had you in your bed and tucked in. 

“Jason,” You said. He stopped dead in his tracks to come back to you. “Thank you, baby.”

He smiled, bending over to kiss your forehead. “Anything for you. You know that. Now, get some sleep. I’ll make some soup that’ll be so good that you’ll wanna stay sick.”

You wanted to laugh but managed a small smile and a sarcastic remark. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Jason laughed, pressing one more kiss to your head before leaving to let you sleep. You snuggled up into the fresh sheets, still feeling the worst of the cold, but glad that despite being at your worst Jason still would love you like you were at your best.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #romance #jason todd fanfiction #bruce wayne #jason todd x you #batfamily #red hood x reader #jason todd red hood #jason todd fic #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd x fem!reader #batfam #nightwing #alfred pennyworth

[darlingdekarios]

until the stars leave.

RATING: m for canon themes — LENGTH: 4,782 — Rolan x Tav [reader]

CONTENT: hurt/comfort, set shortly after the final fight, fluff, somewhat unspoken admission of feelings, first kiss, cuddles because they both earned them, brief indecent thoughts

when the celebrations are through a harsh realization sets in - with your companions returning home or answering to their new purpose and the city in ruin, you are alone with no where to go. as you wander in the night, your mind recalls a certain sentiment that was extended.

Your heart had decided what it wanted before your mind had the chance to catch up, and your feet had carried you to the location you were drawn to - really, to the one place you felt was an option for you at the moment. At least, it was the safest and most comfortable option for you at a time like this, and the one you felt confident wouldn't turn you away.

Entering the main doors was hardly difficult - you'd picked up enough lock picking skills along the way to make quick work of the lock, slipping inside into the darkness around what walls and books remained and releasing a sigh of relief. The stairs you had to climb were familiar - a comfort in some way, at least.

What would happen when you stumbled through the portal? In all likelihood at this hour you'd enter the Tower to remain alone for several hours yet, until its new inhabitants woke for the new day. It didn't matter - you'd happily sleep amongst the books propped against the wall knowing you'd get through the night without any surprises.

But that wasn't quite fate's plan.

"Tav?"

Could his voice be considered a surprise when he was the Master of the Tower you'd snuck into? Could it be considering sneaking when you technically had an invitation - albeit not one specifically for tonight?

"Oh, hells," fell from your lips in surprise nonetheless, scrambling backward and into a stack of books until you fell flat on your ass. Your face burned as your mind wrapped itself around the situation, huffing out a deep breath as you fought your way on pained bones and muscles to your feet again.

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, rising from where he sat atop a throne made of books to walk closer to you, meeting you where the ceiling allowed the moon to illuminate the two of you. "Is everything alright?"

"Everything's…fine," you breathed out again, reaching upward to remove your headwear and view him completely unobstructed. Your stomach fluttered at the sight of him - the bruises from Lorroakan had faded more since you'd seen him in-person last, something that brought a light smile to your face. It was easier to focus on the freckles that decorated his skin when you weren't distracted by hatred for his former "teacher." “Cal said I had a room here…anytime. And well, I don't quite think he meant at this hour but…”

“Of course you do, there's no question about that in the slightest," his expression was still perplexed, eyebrows furrowed together with one slightly raised as he continued to await any answer you were willing to provide.

Not that you'd intended it, but his careful - and clearly caring - scrutiny made your eyes start to water, one of your shaking hands quickly lifting to wipe away a tear just as it fell. Your voice was meek but you tried to maintain the level of sass and confidence he was used to hearing from you - as you spoke, you were certain it was hardly a convincing performance.

"Only if you don't mind, Master of Ramazith Tower."

He tried to smile his signature grin but his mind focused too hard on you using such a title for him, his cheeks burning several shades of red darker. He cleared his throat and averted his gaze quickly to re-center himself, though it was probably a laughable effort.

"Are you alright?" his voice was just as gentle as you'd needed it to be, your appreciation growing with each word. "You don't even look like you've been healed an-"

“I am…alone. My family is scattered to return to their lives and I'm…"

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, this level of vulnerability and amount of sharing with the Wizard Tiefling entirely new - territory much better explored with a clearer mind and healthier body. Inwardly you worried even that was too much emotion between the two of you for the type of relationship - if you could even call it that - the two of you had maintained up to now.

Another surprise for the night - his eyes were only incredibly understanding as he shakes his head in your direction, dispelling your feelings in the politest way possible.

“You're not alone. Obviously."

There was that agitation in his voice you knew had nothing to do with you. Rolan, complicated man as he was and growing more so by the day it seemed, was not one to share his feelings, few exceptions being made throughout his hardened life. But the truth was undeniable in that single word - four syllables that told you everything you needed to feel more at peace tonight in knowing you were wrong.

You have me.

It was silent - it was all you needed.

Your lip began to quiver again as another tear fell, but this time it was his hand raising to catch it on your cheek, his hands soft and warm and delicate in all the ways you'd dreamed they would be…far more times you were willing to admit. He hadn't thought about the movement before it was carried out, yet he couldn't bring himself to regret it, savoring the way your head seemed to lean toward his touch more.

When was the last time you'd been touched in comfort…in need? Had it been just as long as it had for him? He found it was hard to pull his hand away from the softness your cheek presented beneath his thumb.

“You’ve been through quite a lot recently,” he removed his hand as he spoke again and you immediately wished he'd return it, that you could continue to memorize the feeling. You focused your attention instead on his eyes, falling even harder as you gazed into his eyes. You found only honesty met you in those yellow flames. “You’ve always been here for us…for me. My home - and everything in it - is yours. For as long as you need it."

"I didn't help you to be owed a favor," you reminded, always the one to ensure everyone around you knew they owed you nothing. "Thank you."

"Only you could just save the world and feel you're not owed anything," there was a subtle laugh to his voice that you were happy to hear - that you were certain you'd never been gifted with before and eager to hear much more in the future. "When's the last time you ate?"

Just the word made your stomach growl - it'd been a while, that much was clear.

"We donated our leftover supplies," your answer was hardly a real answer and yet that told him exactly what he needed to know - whatever the truth was it was completely unsatisfactory. He sighed in response, shaking his head slightly as he reached upward to pinch the bridge of his nose briefly in frustration - it only meant he cared.

"Unsurprising," he breathed out, returning his gaze to yours again when he removed his hand from his face. His tone offered no chance of argument. "I'll show you to a bath, and I'll find something for you to eat and wear while you're in-"

His tone offered no chance of argument, yes - but that still wouldn't stop you from trying.

"I'd be okay not eating. You don't need to go out of your way."

His eyes narrowed and he shook his head again, though you could see the hints of amusement at your usual heroic antics flickering in his eyes. You'd starve if it meant you didn't inconvenience someone else. He was hardly going to let that happen, and he was more than willing to repeat himself to you after the interruption - but likely only just the once.

"I'll show you to a bath, and then I'll find something for you to wear and something for you to eat," his tone was more assertive now, dominant - you couldn't deny the way it made your mouth go slightly dry and your palms sweat. "Take your boots off at least, I can't have you tracking…whatever it is on them all over the Tower."

You nodded in agreement knowing he wouldn't agree to anything else now that his mind was made up, beginning to lower yourself down to the ground. Your weary bones were struggling from fatigue and you ended up falling into a heap on the floor instead. He was quick to follow you, dropping to his knees at a speed you knew would result in a bruise, one of his arms coming out to support you.

You thanked him by looking at him like he'd answered a prayer, an expression he'd refer back to frequently. For now, however, he was too focused on your condition to fully appreciate the sweet moment for as long as it deserved.

"Gods," he spat, clearly not in your direction whatsoever - as if he could ever truly feel that anger at you. "I suppose none of your friends could perform healing."

"It seemed selfish to ask at a time like-"

"Just…stop," he sighed out again, waving his free hand in the air to dismiss your piss poor explanation - unwilling to hear the excuse he knew was reasonable and yet didn't bring him comfort. "There is such a thing as being too heroic. I hope the next time you're faced with saving the world you remember that."

"I hope there isn't a next time."

The confession came fast and took him by surprise - he offered an understanding nod and the briefest rub to your lower back where he still held you. He began to remove your armor, gently pushing your hands away when you tried to help. Any amount of relaxation he could offer you now he would without being asked, if he knew it was acceptable.

"Why are you awake at this hour, anyway?"

Your voice was soft and much less upset as you just watched him care for you, trying to navigate the conversation away from yourself. His eyes flickered up into yours again as he worked the laces on your sides free, fingers brushing over the thin fabric covering your sides gently.

You were touch starved and it was hard to ignore - in the way that every cell in your brain was screaming with the desire to hold his hand. You were hopeful the conversation could distract you before you made your desires known.

"I have a lot on my mind," he confessed, placing what had covered your torso to the side. You could see the conflict in his eyes returning and growing, whatever his mind had trailed to as he came up with an answer disturbing the peace that had fallen over the two of you. "I'd like things to be normal for a long time, whatever normal looks like now, but…"

It was your turn to nod in understanding as he removed your gauntlets, fingers lightly brushing against your arm as the skin was exposed. Goosebumps raised where his fingers touched, a fact that he didn't miss. He wondered briefly if it was the reaction he'd get from any part of your body he touched.

"But? Something else worth sharing?"

He had to lie…

"I'm afraid not."

But unfortunately he wasn't very good at it.

"If it's from your mind, it's worth sharing."

Such a compliment took him off guard momentarily, his eyes widening with genuine surprise as he allowed them to soak in, hoping he'd remember how that sentence sounded from your lips forever. It was impossible to lie when faced with the weakness of his intellect being appreciated, especially when it was by you.

"I worried it would be a long time before I got to see you again."

With his confession of the truth both of your faces heated up - his face turning shades of red that only seemed to make him glow. It made both of you feel silly, this giddiness which neither of you were particularly good at hiding at the moment. He helped you to your feet again as you made a mental note of the subtle flick to the tip of his tail.

Being a little bashful wouldn't stop you from flirting with him altogether. It was far too tempting to tease him just a little more.

"So that's what keeps the Wizard of Ramazith's Tower awake at night," your tone was light and playful and he was thankful you were able to diffuse the tension with your personality. He wasn't certain if his efforts to flirt had ever been even remotely successful in the past with others, but he was becoming increasingly hopeful they might work with you.

"It's what was keeping me awake tonight. Who's to say what tomorrow will bring?"

Your eyes flashed with surprise that Rolan was capable of flirting in such a way and found you could only smile, his heart fluttering at the sight. Behind him his tail twitched again, and he quickly moved to ensure you weren't catching onto the quirk. An arm gently slipped around your waist as he began to lead you to the bathroom where the promise of a relaxing bath waited for you. On the way, you still wanted to fill the silence.

"Are you going to tell Cal and Lia?" you questioned, realizing quickly you needed to clarify. Forming a concise question proved to be difficult when you were becoming intoxicated by the smell of him that was flooding your senses at this proximity. "That I'm here."

"Of course I am, but in the morning. Tonight you need to rest."

You nodded in agreement and remained at his mercy as you made your way to the destination he'd chosen for you. The bathtub filled before your eyes with a simple wave of his hand, a smug expression forming on his face as you looked on in wonder despite all you had seen in the recent weeks. Reaching for a shelf he walked beside the tub to empty several vials of herbs, once again waving his hand so some of the candles decorating the room flickered to life.

When he turned to face you he realized all that was left was for you to remove the rest of your clothes…the thought alone returned the blush to his face. This time, however, it was joined by several beads of sweat breaking out across his brow, his hand raising to rub the back of his neck as he nervously cleared his throat.

"I'll find you some clothes," he announced, trying to maintain the composure in his voice. "And food."

And like that he was gone, disappearing in a flash to remove himself from any further opportunity of indecent thought.

The bath alone did you wonders in returning your body to a somewhat lucid state, though you still stumbled when you raised yourself from the relaxing waters. A simple robe in a shade of blue he so regularly wore awaited you on the vanity, which you dressed into slowly to ensure you didn't have any accidents.

It felt odd to dress for the day and not cover yourself in as much powerful armor as possible - even odder not to grab a weapon. You were thankful for the oddity.

An illusionary duplicate of himself waited outside the bathroom door to direct you to your next location - you weren't surprised at all to find Rolan hadn't bothered with giving it much of a script beyond what was necessary. Still, you found your mind focused on all the power he was displaying - Rolan became more impressive by the day, more powerful and capable of caring for himself and his family.

How very lucky Cal and Lia were to have someone in their lives like him.

You found him in the kitchen, amused at the flustered expression on his face as he plated whatever he'd whipped together - for the two of you it seemed, judging by the matching plates in front of him. With a pop his mirror image disappeared and Rolan's head lifted to meet your gaze, both of you smiling just at being reunited again, though it'd hardly been long since you separated.

(In fact, this would become a trend for the two of you very soon - minutes would feel like hours, hours like days, days like eternity until soon you'd find being apart at all was unbearable. When that day came for the both of you, you would hardly be far from his side again.)

He'd made a simple meal for you - something he somewhat bashfully admitted he used to make for Cal and Lia when the three of them were growing up. As you ate together in comfortable silence you decided it was the best meal you'd ever been made, and one you would ask for again whenever you needed an excuse to see Rolan.

Not that you truly needed an excuse.

Thankfully, it was still dark when it was time to retire to bed for the night, something you were already hoping you could manage despite everything that was still on your mind. As he escorted you to the room you'd sleep in he offered a quick explanation knowing there was an argument to be had when he'd finished.

"You'll sleep in my room tonight, and I'll take the spare bed in Cal's room," his words were coming quick in the hopes that your exhausted mind would have trouble keeping up with them, intentions pure as he hoped you would just allow him to extend this kindness. "Tomorrow we'll be sure one of the other rooms is furnished to your liking."

"You don't need to go to all of this trouble for me."

The genuine offense that passed his features at your phrase was chased quickly by annoyance, his eyes narrowing again as he imparted his next words onto you.

"You've gone through far more for me. Please."

He opened the door and motioned you inside fluidly, following after you to light the fireplace with the wave of his hand, providing more light to the dark room. Even in the dim environment you could see his bed looked oh-so-inviting…despite the books that littered the top of it. Realizing the mess he rushed forward to begin moving them, shooting you a grateful look when you joined. A gentle brush of your hands together as you both reached for the last book caught both of you off-guard, his movements entirely freezing at the feeling of your skin against his again.

In the privacy of his bedroom, there was something about the touch that just felt more meaningful than anything that had come before it.

"Sorry about the mess," he quickly filled the silence with an apology before he got too lost in your hopeful eyes, before he thought too long on how exhausted you must be after everything. "You should be plenty comfortable here for the night."

You nodded in agreement and climbed into the bed, quietly moving to the opposite side and finding comfort in the first position you found yourself in. Taking in a deep breath you continued to gaze up at him, mind running through a million options as to what to do now and hoping he could see your desire written in your eyes.

Instead, he took a step back as if to leave.

"I'll see you later this afternoon, I hope, after you've gotten plenty of rest," his voice was quieter as he was conscious of you entering a relaxed state, truly hopeful it wouldn't be long before you were asleep. "Goodnight."

But as sweet as it was, it wasn't what you wanted.

"Wait," you called, reaching out to grab at his arm before he was too far away. He turned to look over his shoulder, a puzzled look on his features bringing a small smile to your own. A smile - a genuine smile. How very good it felt to do so without guilt again. "Stay…please? It's just…quiet. So quiet in my mind since the parasite is gone. I don't like feeling so…alone."

Thankfully, he'd never make you beg. He simply nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, breathing out deeply as he mentally talked himself into remaining calm - sleeping in a bed together was hardly something to get all worked up over.

"I suppose I will sleep much better knowing you are."

For as nervous as he now felt, he was thankful he was still managing to form coherent and articulate sentences. He was still living through the embarrassment of tripping over his words in front of you the first time you'd met.

"Then please.""

Eager to ensure you didn't have to repeat the plea again he only gave in to your desire, climbing into the bed next to you and trying not to feel overwhelmed by your scent flooding his senses. He stayed on his back for a moment deciding it was for the best as he decided exactly what he wanted to do - what the best way to continue the night was.

What didn't take much thought was the feeling that crackled in the air around the two of you, an undeniable mutual want drawing the two of you nearer. And yet, neither of you knew how to seize the moment that was presented to you, new worries taking root in your minds.

He was so thankful when you were the one to break the eilsnce.

"You said you worried it would be a long time since you saw me again."

"Yes, I did."

"Why did that worry you?"

"I suppose…"

His response trailed off as he elected to consider his words carefully, taking a moment to form them in his brain to ensure they were exactly what he wanted. No words - even magical ones - would ever be enough, and even if they were he was hardly the type of man willing to express them.

But for you? He'd do whatever h could manage.

"I suppose I am quite fond of you," he breathed out, admitting to himself inwardly that it did feel good to finally admit it aloud. "Though I find your heroics insufferable and wish desperately that you could practice a little more selfishnesses quite a bit more often, I…enjoy your company. I did not want to go long without it."

He was certain he'd chosen the right words when his eyes found your face again, greeted with the sight of complete and utter adoration. It had been a long time since someone had looked at him this way - it was instantly a sight he wanted to see forever.

"I was selfish…after the battle," you explained, biting at your lip nervously - a habit he found quite cute, no matter how many times he'd reprimand you in the future for it. "Everyone offered me a place beside them. I could be helping in so many places - I had so many choices."

He waited for you to continue your story, understanding that something like this may take extra time. If there was anyone that deserves it, it was you.

"I chose to stay in Baldur's Gate."

He could feel that you were burning beside him - your temperature had easily spiked. Were you embarrassed at such a confession? He hardly thought admitting to stay in the city warranted such a fuss, though he also wasn't going to be one to shut you down.

"No doubt you'll be detrimental to the city's rebuilding efforts."

"I intend to be, but that's not why I chose to stay," you offered a light smile and released a shaky breath before you continued with your confession to him, glad you could get it out now and that the suit hadn't died alongside you. "I chose to stay…for you, Rolan. To be near you. I wasn't ready to…to move on."

The realization washed over his face like a wave and he was very aware that he was burning now, unable to stop the smile that spread across his features - or the fact that he'd been moving closer throughout the lunch.

"It seems my worries were matched by your own."

He was mocking you playfully, in a way that only he was truly capable of. You adored when he was in a mood like this. If he was in the mood to flirt, you were more than happy to oblige.

"I'd love to not worry myself over you someday, Rolan."

"And I you," he agreed with a nod, his handsome smile still covering his features. It was lighthearted and peaceful yet serious and intense - you'd happily go mad trying to understand all the different sides to him. "Do you think that day will come?"

"Perhaps if we watch one another," you offered, knowing you had no intent of removing yourself from his side anytime soon if no one forced it. "Every day, to be safe."

Slow movement caught your vision from the corner of your eye as one of his hands reached up to cup your face in one hand, cutting what the conversation could've blossomed into short. Your joking expression melted away into serenity once again masked with bashfulness. You were nervous at what his next move was - you bit at your bottom lip to prove it. He adored seeing you behave so…smitten?…for him and couldn't resist the opportunity for more.

"I am so glad you are here," he breathed out deeply, unwilling to mask his thoughts from you anymore, feeling already that he'd wasted enough time. "That you chose this. That your decisions lead you here, to me. I wouldn't trade this moment for anything."

Your own hand joined his, laying atop his as your eyes fluttered shut. You held his hand against your face as you moved closer, propping yourself up on one elbow. When you were certain you'd be greeted with the exact sight you wanted you opened your eyes, taking in the sight of him gazing up at you patiently, waiting for whatever word you'd offer him next.

"You're quite a prize for saving the world.""

"And I haven't even thanked you properly," his thumb brushed across your bottom lip slowly, his hand then slipping to the back of your head to pull you downward, closer to him. Your faces were mere inches apart, the anticipation of a kiss waiting to be claimed growing by the second. "May I?"

It was a quick nod you offered that was barely finished before he was claiming your lips in his own. It was the sweetest, most delicate and heartfelt kiss you'd been given in your life thus far, all-consuming and addicting immediately. You pressed closer to him as you lost yourself in the kiss, singularly focused on how perfectly his lips moved with yours to the point his tail winding around one of your legs went fairly unnoticed.

The two of you only pulled away from air, both of you immediately breaking into a small fit of giggles, nuzzling your noses together in pure joy. As you laid your heads back down on the edges of your pillows so you could remain close you gazed upon one another with an adoration that could go unspoken for now - your shared devotion was perfectly clear. Your hands found each other between your bodies and he placed his atop yours in silence, enjoying the first true peaceful moment in so long for a moment, reminding himself it wasn't selfish to stop and appreciate you - particularly at this hour.

His tail released your leg to drape over your waist instead, pushing you closer to his form until you were burying your face in his neck. The warmth and his scent combined with how one of his arms also wrapped around you gently was lulling you to sleep before you'd even found the perfect position. Though really, any position with Rolan would be perfect in your mind.

"Goodnight, sweet hero."

You were already asleep, his hopeful sentence gone unheard by yours ears as the exhaustion finally overtook you and you succumbed to the comfort of resting beside him. Waving an arcane lock toward the door to ensure the two of you would go uninterrupted for as long as he could keep you in the bed.

The world and all its troubles could be forgotten awhile while the two of you found tranquility in your shared solitude - and neither of you would have it any other way.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#rolan x tav #rolan x reader #rolan bg3 #rolan fanfic #bg3 fanfic

[buckleyx]

Hey! Was wondering if you could write Buck or Eddie (whichever you prefer) and sick reader. Like they come home from a shift and find you sick and go all paramedic on you :)

TAKING CARE OF SICK!READER E.D

the gif i used is not mine! all credit goes to the owner! Had to choose rosy cheeks diaz bc the gif is just so cute! go give some love to the creator!!

Author’s note: i love love loveeee these requests!! thank you sm anon!! paramedic eddie>>>>>>>>>>> i just love him so much <33 very short and unedited but i found the request just so adorable that i quickly had to write it down!

Summary: Eddie taking care of sick reader!

Eddie Diaz x GenderNeutral!reader

Warnings: mentions of being sick, fever, headache and very fluffy eddie

masterlist

Eddie immediately knew something was wrong the minute he walked through the front door. When his suspicion was confirmed and he noticed you curled up on the couch, a box of tissues by your side and multiple blankets stacked on top of you, something inside of him switched.

"Are you okay?" He rushed over, kneeling down so he could take a better look at you.

"I'm fine." You brushed off, trying your best to ignore your pounding headache. "Just a cold."

Eddie studied your face, his lips turning into a small frown as he brushed some hair out of your face. "Ai, mi amor." He whispered, giving your temple a soft kiss. "Why didn't you tell me."

You leaned into his touch, forcing a small smile on your lips. "I didn't want you to worry." You admitted, making his lips curl up into a small smile.

"Mi amor, don't say that." His thumb caressed your cheek, his brows knitting together as he felt the warm temperature of your skin against his. Eddie placed the palm of his hand on your forehead but you stopped him before he could do anything about it.

"You're burning up y/n. At least let me take a look."

As much as you didn't want him to worry, you were too tired to protest. You shivered as his cold hand touched your skin again. The color in your face had faded and the brightness in your eyes had been took over by an unbearable sleepy feeling. But still you managed to be in awe of your handsome boyfriend sitting in front of you. His rosy cheeks and concentration in his eyes as he further examined you.

"Too far if I get my stethoscope?" He joked, standing up and stretching his back. You chuckled. Eddie's eyes sparkled at the sound. "I'll be right back baby." He promised before disappearing into the kitchen.

After a few minutes the Diaz appeared back in the living room, proudly holding a tray of snacks and fluids he mixed up to help you feel better. He carefully placed the tray on the side table when he noticed you had already fallen asleep. He lowered the volume of the tv playing in the background and pressed the water compress he made against your skin.

He smiled at your peaceful state, happy that you were able to finally get some rest. He did everything to make you comfortable before sitting down next to the couch. His head rested on the pillows behind him, one arm stretched over to rest against your waist. He tried his best to follow the remaining minutes of the show playing but he quickly dozed off aswell, the tiredness of his shift finally catching up with him.

911 Taglist: @roseelone  @persie123 @nycbaddie @mrspeacem1nusone @ittzzgillianj @princessamericachavez @campingmonkey @barzy90 @911readercollection @rapunzelflynnrider @stark3y-l3cl3rc-p3t3rs @essienoe @chloepluto1306 @zephyrmonkey @ittzzgillianj @quacksonhq @x-hey-its-paige-x @essienoe @imaginesofdreams @ittzzgillianj @in-this-minute @bisexualblckcanary @essienoe

My requests are open! :)

Main Taglist: @onlinevampire1898 @reality1escaping @musicsavedme98 @zombiedixon89  @ladamari68 @angelofbowersgangwifey @incendiotriaaa   @embon   @pansexualmommamess  @mykookieme-blog  @fairyhope028  @alexxavicry  @alexloveskili @one-sweet-gubler  @attackonnat   @strangersomeone  @ahookedheroespureheart @911readercollection

Let me know if you want to be added for future work!

#911 fox #eddie diaz #911onfox #911 #eddie diaz x reader #flo answers ✧.* #911 x reader #911 x y/n #911 fanfiction #911 fanfic #eddie diaz angst #eddie daiz x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie diaz smut #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x y/n #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz fluff #eddie diaz fanfiction #eddie diaz fanfic #911 eddie #911 fluff #x reader #911!reader

[youphoriaot7]

You know, it's so crazy to me. Because Cellbit is going on this...murderous rampage, and he practically (flat-out?) told Bagi he doesn't really care who's with him, just who's against him. The evidence is starting to stack up against him. His absence is being noted across the server. People are investigating on their own and coming to conclusions.

And yet...

And yet island residents keep on putting themselves in the way.

Cellbit and Foolish have such a strong relationship regardless of their differences that Foolish is willing to throw Bad—Bad!—under the bus to try and cover up Cellbit's involvement.

Cellbit and Bagi had such a strong connection during their childhood that it has carried across 15 years of absence, to the point that Bagi lied to Cucuruchito's face, taking the fall in order to protect him.

Cellbit and Bad's background runs so deep and so closely that Bad is even considering sacrificing (or at the very least, altering) a plan that has clearly taken months of work to put together just to try and help him get back to normal.

Cellbit and Roier's relationship is strong, and everyone knows that, but it's to the point where Roier is willing to throw himself down this rabbit hole with Cellbit, consequences be damned.

Hell, even Pac—the man that he tortured, hurt, tried to kill back in prison all those years ago. Even he promised to help Bagi try to help Cellbit.

Cellbit continues to try and sacrifice everything for those he loves, over and over again. We saw it with Felps and the Federation, we saw it with Roier and Abueloier (sort of), we saw it with Richas and those investigations that threatened his life, and we're seeing it again here with Bagi and his wider family.

He keeps trying to sacrifice himself. To cut his losses, fly away, leap off the edge. But his connections, his friends—his family ties are so strong that they will consistently yank him back down to the solid, firm ground.

#these are the first coherent words i've been able to string together in over four hours please enjoy them #qsmp #qsmp cellbit #character study #ev;murder mystery #qsmp foolish #qsmp bbh #qsmp bagi #qsmp pac #qsmp tazercraft #pl;fuga #qsmp roier #spiderbit