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tojipie · 5 months

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toji x crybaby reader <3

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji is a flawed man.

short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.

he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear.

you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.

his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.

he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.

you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him.

he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.

it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.

it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?

he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge.

instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.

you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands.

physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.

his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.

toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.

you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul.

he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words.

“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours.

“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”

and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.

he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over.

the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.

you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.

toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start.

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rewh0re · 24 days

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CAN I GET A KISS? (AND CAN YOU MAKE IT LAST FOREVER?)

—wc: 878, headcanons of how different jjk men would kiss you!! fluffy fluff fluff and nothing but fluff, a lot of kissing (neck, lips and forehead), gojo in himself is a warning tbh. REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

—pairing: geto, gojo, nanami x reader (separate)

｡ﾟ･　☆　° ｡ geto suguru—

I somehow see Geto as a guy who is into neck kisses. Like you'd be doing your work and Suguru just spawns out of nowhere, wrapping his arms around your waist, pecking and nibbing down your neck. He'll be helping you put on the clasp of a necklace and would steal a little peck that would take you by surprise. So cute. He's also very much into pecking your shoulders and burying his head in your neck—his way of asking you to play with his hair. Like you will be watching some stupid rom com and the next thing you know, Suguru is latched onto you, nibbling onto your shoulder as he buries himself in your neck. His breath softly tickles your skin and you know no one’s going to watch the movie anymore. So you give into his antics as your fingers card through his hair as a hum of satisfaction leaves his lips.

"oh! what was that for?" you yelped in a welcomed surprise as you felt a little nibble on the side of your neck which was quickly soothed by the feeling of your lover's warm tongue.

"missed my baby. When are you joining me in bed? it's late," his lips left a trail of kisses from the base of your ear to your clavicle.

"will you attack me if I say after I finish this draft?" you smiled up at him, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"you know I will."

You both knew he would attack you with kisses before bed either way.

｡ﾟ･　☆　° ｡ gojo satoru—

Now Gojo is a flirt. He's a stupid idiot and a flirt. He'll do anything to tease you and rile you up if I'm being honest. He'll get close to you, breaths mingling together as he holds you against his hard chest. You can smell his rich boy cologne so clearly and you're sure he can probably hear your erratic heartbeat. It's all impossibly slow and you close your eyes, waiting for his lips to land on yours and then.....they land on your cheek! Your eyes shoot open at the howling laughter from the menace that is Gojo Satoru. He gives a detailed recollection of your face from just a few seconds ago and you realise he can never not get on your nerves.

"Satoru I fucking hate you," you whine, pouting a bit, your body sulking as you look away, arms folded and a rose tint on your cheeks.

The next thing you know, Satoru's arms are around your waist for a second time as you're impossibly close to him....again. Except now his lips are quick to land upon yours. you move your arms to grip on his hair while he tightens his arms around you. He sucks on your bottom lip, licking and nibbling it. Your surprised gasp allowed him his entrance into your mouth, your tongues gliding against each other's as both of your lips were covered with thick coats of saliva. His hand moved along your back, gripping your neck, then face and then back around your waist. You wish you could kiss him like this forever but your lack of oxygen compelled you to part.

You panted as you looked at him, his sapphire eyes holding love, passion, desire and something more—mischief perhaps?

he smirked before pecking your lips again.

"Won't hate me as much now I'm guessing?"

Incorrigible, isn't he?

｡ﾟ･　☆　° ｡ nanami kento—

Come on. When I started writing this, I just knew Nanami had to be a forehead kiss man. He just radiates a sense of safety and comfort if you know what I mean. Imagine the both of you are at your shared apartment and you are just talking on the sofa and he's smiling at you and when you ask what's up he just takes your face in his big hand and leaves a long kiss on your forehead.

I just know Nanami comes home and the first thing he does is hug you tightly, as if to never let you go. He then proceeds to hold you gently by your neck as he leaves a lasting kiss on your temple.

Even before bed, after saying your good nights when you are all cuddled up with him, he'll softly leave a chaste kiss on your forehead, muttering 'sweet dreams' before you both lull to sleep. It's endearing really.

Especially when you're tired or stressed from work or life and you confide in him for comfort. He will hold you so tightly while you feel at home in his arms. One of his hands will be pressing your head to his chest while the other grabs you around the waist. You love being held by him.

"thank you kento, I feel better," you separate from him, smiling up at him in gratitude and appreciation.

he just hums in response, returning your smile with one of his own endearing ones. He moves a lock of your hair behind your ear as he brings his lips to your forehead. you close your eyes, basking in his warmth and comfort.

Kento's forehead kisses and hugs ensured you that you would always have a place to call home as long as he's with you. You'd always be safe in his arms. He'd always be yours.

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colonelarr0w · 22 days

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Hey 💕 Can I request story about Sukuna being all soft and gentle with reader? 😩 Like soft morning with him, waking up together, and make out session or some gentle sex with a lot of praise. I love domestic Sukuna I’m sorry 😔

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - None!

A/N - Damn maybe I do like writing for Sukuna (I've been his #1 hater since season 1 of JJK dropped).

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Biting back the sleepy groan that climbs up your throat, you open your bleary eyes to peek at the sunlight that filters in through your bedroom's thin curtains. You shift lightly only to be stopped by someone's arms tightening around your waist, further rooting you to your place in bed – Sukuna.

How ironic that the King of Curses would be a stage-five clinger come the morning sun. But of course, nobody would ever believe you if that admittance fell from your lips. And it wasn’t like he would admit it either.

You yawn, lifting your fingers to swipe at the crust that clings to the corners of your eyes. As much as you wanted to relish in Sukuna’s hold, the urge to go to the bathroom and relieve yourself was becoming painfully apparent — though you knew that any attempt to leave bed would be completely futile.

Even with that knowledge, you attempt to sit upward, only to be met with a sharp groan from Sukuna followed by the tightening of his arm over your waist. His nails dig into the exposed skin of your hips, effectively rooting you to your place in bed.

“Quit movin’ around you brat,” Sukuna murmurs, shifting closer to you and burying his face into the waistband of your pajama pants, exhaling deeply and adjusting himself to be more comfortable. You chuckle to yourself, turning your head to stare down at the sleepy King of Curses — it would be funny if you were to “accidentally” take a photo of him.

“I have to pee Ryo,” you reply, reaching a hand out and threading your fingers through his hair, nails raking gently over his scalp. Against his better judgement, Sukuna leans into the warmth that your touch radiates, eyes still closed like a content cat. It was humorous, this was the same man who could destroy entire cities with so much as a snap of his fingers.

“Mmph.” His arms tighten impossibly further around you, his actions earning a breathy giggle from you. You can feel his lips quirk upward against the skin of your hip, but you don’t say anything, not wanting to ruin this incredibly rare moment.

You decide to humor him, lowering yourself into his arms and tucking your head underneath his chin. Your arms circle his neck, nails scraping over his nape and toying with the hairs that reside there. Sukuna, shockingly, presses himself further into your touch, seeking more of it like a cat starved of affection.

His forehead ghosts over your own, eyes closed in content the moment that your skin meets his own. He would never admit it to you, but the safety that stood in tandem with your presence was reassuring in a way that not even he could describe.

"Five more minutes woman," Sukuna murmurs, tightening his grip on you and going so far as to tangle his legs with your own, only further trapping you to the sheets of your bed.

You giggle, laying a kiss against his lips, not failing to notice the way that his quirk up against your own.

"Five more minutes."

#colonelarr0w #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen sukuna fanfiction #sukuna ryomen fanfiction #sukuna x reader #sukuna fanfiction #sukuna fluff #jjk drabble #sukuna drabble #ryomen sukuna drabble

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blingblong55 · 7 months

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Valentine- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

(photo belongs to: @ave661 )

Based on a request:

For fluffy ghost - he's a big intimidating looking dude but animals LOVE HIM. Dogs, cats, rodents, everything. I love the idea of him being trapped on a couch bc too many sleepy animals are on him. Kittens like to climb him. Rodents want to snuggle in his hood or his pocket. Dogs are obsessed and follow him and want to give him kissies. Hed be really good at finding lost pets cause they just come running up to him out of nowhere. (That or like imagine having a cat that's super friendly and telling him your cat doesn't like people so when the kitty cuddles up with him he will feel special).

GN!Reader, Fluff, Friends to lovers

I've rejected affection For years and years Now I have it and damn it It's kind of weird

He isn't much of a people person or more that everyone finds him to be intimidating. But lately, as you have become closer to him, he found himself, wandering the halls of the base, looking for you. And occasionally, there'll be some furry friend with him. There have been times when you call him snow white for that reason alone. Sitting under a willow tree? A bird, deer, cat, and/or dog goes to him and cuddles on his lap or shoulder. You find this so beautiful, it gives you some new perspective on him.

Sometimes during field training, he will get the occasional guard dog to stand by him and rub their body on his leg, begging for a head rub. This has become so frequent, that he has gotten used to it. One time, while in an active war zone, he got tackled by a very friendly dog. Soap was about to shoot it when Ghost laughed a little. "Don't you worry, sergeant, we got a friend, now." You and Soap look at each other, giving the other the 'Again' look. One time, purely because you were all waiting for the helicopter to pick you up, he began to attract all sorts of friendly animals. So much so, that one of the animals became the birthday gift to Price's little girl.

I've lost all control of my heartbeat now

Another time, Gaz begged his lieutenant, to fetch a kitten for his girlfriend and as always, it worked. As you two grow closer and closer, he visits your home frequently. You two usually stay in your back garden, sitting by the grass and then soon the birds begin to chirp by the branches, this is only when he is there, no other time. "You know, this is nice, having this time with you." he softly confesses. His balaclava on your sofa's arm while you two enjoy the warm sun by the grass. Before you could even answer, your two pups and the grumpy cat who hates everyone approach him and purrs. "Bloody hell, Simon. You've done it again!" You laugh and he stares at you.

"This is a real problem I struggle with, R/N." He tried to pretend he was angry.

As time went on, and your pups grew, he began to be stuck somewhere during the winter visits. Your cosy sofa. Your dog lying on his chest and thighs, the grumpy cat that adores only him by his shoulder and the newest puppy he got you, tucked by his hood. It's a site to see, for sure and it's the best one you can get as his new partner. You always thought it was that his body radiated warmth but you soon found yourself to be going to him like a magnet. It's an inexplicable force that pulls you to him. It's safety, comfort, familiarity and understanding that he radiates to those vulnerable, delicate and small creatures.

The way he is, a giant, grumpy man, with three hobbies, smart, strong, rough but the way he protects everything that is at arms reach. That is what makes him so unique and special. You never viewed him this way when you first met. Never thought he was into puzzles, history and reading. His mind is so great and if he wanted to, he could be a successful professor elsewhere. Maybe it's the years of his own struggles and how he understands those who might be close to another breakdown that brings a certain level of comfort. Perhaps its how he caresses the creatures that crawl to him, that yearn for the love he gives. And maybe now it's you that is added to that list.

I still feel a shock through every bone When I hear an, "I love you" 'Cause now I've got someone to lose

Six years ago, you found him. He petted two stray cats and a squirrel on his shoulder, the one he kept feeding before winter. And now, in a dim kitchen light, listening to jazz, swaying in his arms, that is home to you and those sweet things. "My R/N, you have to sway like this." His hand was on your hip, the other holding your hand as he guided you. That skull balaclava hidden in the drawer of your now shared home. No longer the grey flat he lived in as a soldier but now, in a small, cosy and beautiful home as your husband.

Even to this say, when you go to the park to walk your pets, he has some new furry friends that come to him. And he gives you that look, 'Again' as you, with a big proud smile take a bag of treaties from the bag you carry for this occasion. He and you sit in a bench, just like the old couple that frequently sits across from you both. It's like staring in a mirror, he tells you every time. The man across from him feeds the birds, while he feeds the dogs or cats near him.

I blinked and suddenly I had a Valentine

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girlkisser13 · 10 days

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dating jason grace would include

• ugh, the chivalry radiating off this man is CRAZYY.

• jason is the epitome of a gentleman fr!! he’ll do little things like holding open doors for you (even if it means waiting a few extra moments), offering his sweater when you're cold without hesitation, or fixing up a plate for you during dinner, he's always trying to make life a little easier for you. <33

• if you so much as utter a complaint about your feet aching or your shoes being too uncomfortable, he's already kneeling down, his broad back facing you with his hands gesturing for you to climb on for a piggy-back ride. he’ll be running around camp like a lunatic, carrying you on his back or in his arms, but he doesn't care because he always puts your comfort and safety first!!

• his protective nature extends to the battlefield as well. even though he knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he fights alongside you, ready to shield you from ANY harm.

• whenever you talk to jason, he always has a way of letting you know that he's listening to your every word. even if he's occupied with something else, he'll make a point to let you know that he is paying attention to you. he'll immediately direct his gaze towards you, and abandon whatever task he was previously engaged in, leaning in closer to you the longer you speak.

• even if you try to cut your story short or apologize for repeating yourself, jason will NEVER rush you or make you feel uncomfortable. instead, he'll hold you close with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, encouraging you to keep talking and sharing your thoughts. because jason doesn't mind hearing the same stories over and over again, as long as they're coming from you. <33

• you know that one tiktok trend where one person tries to switch foods/drinks with their partner? yeah if you ask him he will not hesitate to switch with you. he also shares his food with you with no complaints.

• but he also knows you well enough to get you something to eat even if you say you don’t want anything or that say that you’re not hungry.

• jason never fails to express his love for you verbally every day, but he also has a way of communicating it without speaking a word. he'll naturally reaches for your hand under the table, stealing quick kisses on your shoulder when no one is watching. even the way he touches you lingers, like he doesn't want to let go.

• jason lovess resting his forehead against yours. it just brings him a sense of comfort and solace, really just your presence itself makes him feel safe. <33

• he most definitely places kisses on your hand. i'm talking regency era jane austen style kisses to your fingertips or palm, looking away with a visible blush.

• i feel like he radiates a mixture of golden retriever boyfriend and orange cat boyfriend.

• he is pretty romantic and enjoys meticulously planning dates for you both, such as movie dates, picnics, hiking, and more.

• one of his love languages is acts of service. whether it's helping you with chores, surprising you with breakfast in bed, or offering a shoulder to lean on when you’re having a bad day, he's always there to support them in any way he can.

• he’s 100% a morning person (due to his militaristic upbringing at camp jupiter). if you’re also a morning person, the two of you enjoy going on morning jogs together. if you’re not a morning person, he’ll spend hours admiring you when you’re sleeping (not in a creepy or weird way lmao).

• he’s a big reader but sticks with audiobooks (due to his dyslexia) and will read every single book that you read so that he can talk with you about them.

#pjo #pjo tv show #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #jason grace x reader #jason grace #pjo disney+#pjo x reader #pjo series #hoo fandom #hoo series #riordanverse

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freedomfireflies · 7 months

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Home

Summary: An extra for Mine*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has finally gotten you back.

But everything is about to change.

Word Count: 3.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Mama…you have to let go now.”

Your shaky hands tighten around Asher’s arm, fingers curling into his skin in a blatant act of defiance.

You hear Harry sigh from behind you before he steps closer to take hold of your shoulders gently. “Sugar, it’s time to go. You need rest.”

“I can’t,” you exhale, glancing back through tear-stained lashes. “We can’t leave him like this, Har. We can’t, it’s…he’s alone.”

“He’s not alone. And even if he were…it’s not like he knows.”

You feel a soft sob travel up the expanse of your chest, lodging in your throat almost painfully as you glare at him.

He sighs again. “We can come back tomorrow and see him. But I need to take you home now, sweet girl.”

He’s tugging on you, attempting to guide you away from where Asher lays, but you plant your feet into the ground and argue, “Harry, we can’t.”

“Mama—”

“No, he’s…what if he wakes up and he doesn’t see us? What if he thinks we left him?”

“Sugar—"

“And what if he thinks we’re angry at him? Or what if he gets worse—”

“Baby—”

“What if he doesn’t make it? And we never get to tell him—"

“Please,” he suddenly exhales, in a voice so strained and riddled with exhaustion, it takes your breath away. Drops a pit deep in the bottom of your stomach that blooms into fully formed guilt as you slow to a stop. “Please let me take you home. I have to take you home, I have…please. Just let me do this. Please let me do this.”

You think this is the first time you’ve really looked at him in hours. The first time you’ve actually noticed the dark bags and red rings around his eyes. The physical proof of the torment he’s been through painted so perfectly on his perfect face.

He’s been so patient, so gentle. Despite everything else, he’s stayed by your side as Asher was brought into his warehouse to be taken care of privately. Without involving the authorities, Harry found medical personnel he could pay off without jeopardizing his work or his men’s safety to get Asher the help he needed.

He’s taken care of everything. Every little detail and instruction without so much as flinching. He’s held it all together.

For you.

You study him with a sink in your stomach, palm pressing to his cheek as you nod once. “Okay. Okay, take me home.”

He releases his relief, nearly sinking into your touch as he nods as well and takes you by the hand to lead you out of the warehouse.

And you go home. Maybe not to the same place you used to call home, but it doesn’t matter anymore.

Wherever he is…is your home.

The rest of your night is quiet. You’re both exhausted, bodies riddled with fatigue, stress, and lingering trauma. Harry’s bruises are beginning to darken in color, and before you go to bed, you work on cleaning them up and bandaging them properly.

Then, he takes you into his arms, and brings you to bed.

He doesn’t let go all night.

Not when you turn, or shift, or cough. His arms remain snaked around your torso like a vice while his face nuzzles into your neck as though he can’t breathe any other way.

And you don’t mind.

In fact, you become quite used to the heat that radiates from his strong frame and the sound of his soft exhales in your ear.

So, when you wake to find both missing…you realize something has gone wrong.

You sit up in the large, empty bed and glance around the large, empty room for any sign of the man you love.

When you don’t find him, your mind is tempted to jump to the worst possible outcome. He’s been taken, or he’s left, or Asher took a turn for the worst and Harry went to say goodbye.

And then…you hear it. The sound of knuckles hitting the shredded foam of the punching bag. Over and over and over, followed by soft, strained grunts after each hit.

Your stomach wrenches, and with great trepidation, you slip from between the covers, and begin to pad your way through the halls.

The house is quiet and cold. Eerie, in a sense, with only the light of the moon to guide you down the stairs.

Your arms curl around your shivering frame, a fruitless attempt at finding warmth. You wonder how long he’s been gone. How angry he must have been to leave you so willingly in the middle of the night after everything else.

You find him in the basement, his back to the door as he lays hit after hit to the black bag hanging from the ceiling. You can see the muscles ripple beneath his shirt with each blow, can see the veins in his arms cord and push against his sweaty skin.

And you can see the blood. The dark droplets that trickle down his hands from the torn skin of his knuckles. He wears no gloves or wrapping to protect him from the harsh strikes. Almost as if welcoming the pain.

Encouraging it.

You step closer, finding his face in the mirror across the room. His expression is anguished and outraged. He glares at his hands like they’re the reason for his resentment, and it breaks your heart to see him so tormented.

“Har?” you call the moment he’s taken a quick pause, moving a bit closer.

You notice him hesitate, but his back remains to you. Perhaps afraid of your reaction.

Or maybe he’s afraid of his.

You frown. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

A rather silly question, you realize. Because everything is wrong. A shorter list would be things that aren’t.

But there’s something he’s holding onto, something he hasn’t shared that keeps him up. The reason for his bruised fingers and punishing strikes.

“Baby?” you murmur, hoping a softer tone will encourage a response.

Instead, all he does is shake his head.

You feel pulled to him, your feet moving across the cold, cement floor until you can wrap him in your arms and press your cheek to his spine.

“Harry,” you exhale while he braces himself against the punching bag and succumbs to your comfort. “Please…”

He sucks in a sharp breath, yet still, he remains silent. As though the words on the tip of his tongue have been swallowed by the grief.

You clutch his shirt in your hands and tug. “Talk to me. I can’t…I want to help. Please let me help. Let me make it better—”

Another breath, but this one is strangled and wounded. Breaking free of his lungs while his head drops. “Don’t,” he whispers, and you feel your pulse stagger. “Don’t, not after I…not after…”

Your brows furrow, and you grip the material on his chest a bit tighter. “After you what?”

He sighs. It’s so very heavy.

Even still, you hold on with everything you have left. “Har?”

A beat. Then—

“I let them take you.”

The admission is ushered with quiet shame, and you can hear the remorse bleed through each syllable, can feel the way his body recoils from truth.

Your lips press together as you keep your fingers tangled against his heart. “You had to.”

He scoffs to himself, palms pressing harder into the bag. “Doesn’t matter, I fucking…I let them take you. I sat there, and I listened to you cry, and I fucking…I…”

You turn him around; despite the way he attempts to remain planted to his spot. You force him to look at you, and it nearly guts you to see the way he glowers like he’s furious with himself. Like he’ll never accept the choice he made.

“You had to,” you repeat, as firmly as you can. “Harry, there was no other way. And I know that. Just like I know you didn’t want to. But this was the only option we had left.”

His teeth scrape together like the idea irks him yet there’s a sadness behind his eyes that says more than his response ever could.

And then…he lowers.

He drops to his knees, settling himself at your feet as he looks up at you with penitence.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you suck in a sharp inhale. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I’m sorry for everything I’ll have to put you through again. I’m so fucking sorry for ever making you feel scared. Or alone. And I’m sorry that loving me comes at such a high cost.”

You can feel a rush of tears swimming their way up the back of your throat but before you can speak, he drops his head, looks down at the floor, and rests his hands on his thighs.

He submits to you.

“Please,” he says softly. “Please forgive me. I know I don’t deserve it. And I know that there’s nothing I can ever do that’ll make it up to you, but please…please forgive me.”

You reach down and slip your fingers under his chin, forcing his attention back. He seems to find comfort in your touch and yet at the same time, he wilts. Like he doesn’t feel worthy of your affection.

“Please,” he says again, and it creates a hole in your stomach a mile deep. “I’ll do anything.”

You take both his cheeks against your palms, thumbs gingerly dancing across the heavy bags beneath his eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive, Har. There never was.”

He nuzzles his face against your hand and takes in a shaky breath. “You deserve better than this. You deserve better than me, and I’m too selfish to let you go. But maybe I need to. Maybe I need to get out of your way so you can find somebody that isn’t going to hurt you—”

“No,” you interject, dipping down with a pointed squeeze to his jaw. “Don’t. Don’t do that—”

“I want to protect you. I want to keep you, but what if I can’t—”

“You can,” you murmur, and your voice cracks as the first tear falls down your cheek. “You can and you have. I’m with you for a reason, Harry. I love you. I love you, and I can’t be without you, so stop saying it—”

“If I lost you, I don’t know what I’d do—”

“But you didn’t,” you argue, attempting to sound more confident than you feel. “You didn’t. You never will. Just…please. Please come to bed.”

His lashes flutter, but those pretty eyes you find so much serenity in never leave you. “I’m so sorry,” he says again. “I’m so fucking sorry for not being the man you deserve.”

And it hurts you more than anything else ever has. Because you can see that he actually believes that. But even worse, you can see that you’ll never be able to change his mind.

So, you kiss him. You kiss him hard and with more love than you know what to do with. You offer it all to him, your time, your devotion, your affection. Everything you have, you give to the man on his knees.

You’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to convince him that you’re safest with him. That nobody else could ever do for you what he does. That you’re meant to be with him…even if it’s on the run.

But you suppose you’ll just have to spend the rest of your life showing him.

You whimper against his lips, hands moving for the hair on his neck as you tug. Desperate for more, for all of it. Anything he’ll give you. Needing to prove to him and to yourself that things are okay again.

In turn, he reaches out for your hips, the tips of his fingers slipping beneath your shirt as he attempts to pull you down with him.

But just before you can revel in the idea…the phone rings.

You both turn, glancing toward the wall where the landline resides, and Harry sighs as he stands back up.

“One minute, okay?” he promises, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before slipping past you to answer.

You watch closely as he brings the headset to his ear, his expression filling with something you aren’t sure you recognize.

Your stomach drops before he nods, mumbles a quick response, and hangs up.

He turns to you. “It’s Asher.”

You step closer, the tears already flooding back to your waterline, desperate to fall.

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip…and smiles.

“He’s awake.”

“You’re a bloody fucking idiot is what you are.”

Asher laughs and nods his chin toward his boss. “You didn’t think so when I suggested it.”

“I didn’t suggest you get shot,” Harry corrects, arms crossing over his chest almost defiantly. But he’s smiling, and it makes your heart warm. “You were supposed to take her and wait outside. I would have handled it.”

“If I hadn’t stayed, they would have killed you,” Asher argues, and Harry’s expression falls. “And nobody can protect her better than you.”

Harry’s eyes drift to yours.

“Besides,” Asher adds, “it’s kind of my job to take the bullets meant for you.”

And just the thought makes your breath hitch, your throat contracting almost painfully as you glance between them.

Harry nods once. An acknowledgement of understanding. And gratefulness.

Now, Asher turns to you, frowning some as he straightens up. You rush to help, making sure his pillow is fluffed just right, and that he isn’t putting any strain or pressure on his wound.

But as you flutter about, he begins to chuckle, hand reaching out to gently ease you to a halt.

Yet you feel helpless simply sitting by his side, unable to offer much more than an encouraging smile and a few words of comfort. You want to do something. Make it up to him in some way. Repay your debt.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, calling your attention to him. He frowns when you look over. “I need to apologize to you.”

Instantly, you shake your head as you step back, almost as though trying to avoid his attempt. “No. You don’t. It was part of the ruse, I know. Harry told me.”

“Doesn’t matter. Speaking to you that way crosses a line, and I’d like to apologize for the harsh things I said—”

“Asher,” you exhale, glancing down toward the bandage on his chest to avoid his gaze. “You’re alive, and that’s all I care about. You had to sell it, you had to make him believe you were on his side.”

He sighs, but you can tell he’s not exactly convinced. “Even still, I promised to protect you. And I’m so sorry if I ever made you believe anything else.”

“Ash,” you say again, but there’s a long pause as you swallow a rather large lump. Desperately working to find the right words. “You did protect me. You protected both of us. And even if I didn’t know why at the time, deep down, I always trusted you. I know you. You’d never do anything to hurt me.”

He seems slightly relieved by your reassurance, but you can tell the regret goes deeper than a few apologies can reach. This isn’t your wound to tend to. It’s his.

You know both boys will wrestle with the choices they made for years to come. And despite how frustrated that makes you, it simply proves how much they care.

And you imagine, if the roles were reversed, you’d react about the same.

So, with great care, you surge forward and wrap your arms around Asher’s neck. Making sure to mind his injury as he laughs and allows you to bury him in your embrace.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you whisper, eyes falling shut as he slips his hand around the back of your neck. Keeping you close. “Seriously. I’ll kill you myself.”

He smiles. “It would be an honor to die by your hand.”

It’s a touching remark, yet even the thought makes your stomach wrench, and you nuzzle your face into his shoulder. “Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you.”

You feel him let out a deep breath before he holds you a bit tighter. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“But I mean it. Don’t ever do that again. Just…duck and run.”

He chuckles again as he releases you, forcing you to regretfully step back. “I’ll remember that.”

“You better,” Harry calls, pushing off the wall to come up behind you, hands finding your shoulders. “Especially now.”

Asher’s eyebrow raises.

You feel your pulse spike, hands gathering in front of your stomach while Harry squeezes your arms reassuringly.

“I’m taking her away,” Harry tells him, and there’s a heaviness to the way he speaks. “Somewhere outside of the states, somewhere they can’t find her. Where I can keep her safe. At least for a little while.”

Asher leans back, eyes flicking between you both as you look toward the floor.

You and Harry had discussed it at length before coming to see him. It wasn’t your first choice, and you knew it wasn’t a suggestion Harry made lightly.

But after a bit of back and forth, you realized it was the only way. He would do anything to keep you safe and he’d never know peace again until he could make that a reality for you.

And now after everything…he can. He can start over somewhere new. He can bring you the serenity he so desperately wants you to have.

And the serenity he so desperately deserves.

“You’re leaving,” Asher repeats slowly.

You press yourself back into Harry’s chest, wanting to disappear from the conversation, and the look of surprise on his face.

And the subtle trace of disappointment.

“Just for now,” Harry answers, and you glance over your shoulder to catch his solemn expression. “Maybe a year or two. Until there’s not such a large target on my back.”

Asher nods. “Yeah,” he murmurs before straightening up. “Good, yeah. I’ll clean things up here, and make sure the shipments are still on track.”

“Good,” Harry echoes before smiling down at you. “But I’m gonna need you to do a bit more than that.”

With a curious head tilt, Asher waits.

“I need you to take over until I get back,” Harry tells him, and you feel your breath catch. “Manage the imports and exports. Make sure the suppliers don’t fuck us over, and that everyone is doing their job. Handle the shit I can’t.”

You watch the realization settle, his eyes growing wide with intrigue and slight confusion. “Are you serious?”

Harry nods his chin at him. “Deadly,” he says with a wicked smirk. “Look, you know I don’t trust anybody else not to fuck this up while I’m gone. You’re the only one who can manage it and still keep me in the loop. You’re the only one who would do it the way I would.”

Asher smiles, and you can see years’ worth of memories and admiration pass between them.

So, you step aside, and allow Harry to move closer.

“You’re still a fucking idiot for pulling a gun on him like that,” he murmurs, making you both smile. “But I trust you, Ash. And I need you to do this for me. For both of us.”

Asher studies him for a moment, but you know he’s already decided. Know that they’d both do anything for each other.

“Of course,” he finally says, looking from Harry to you. “As long as you are coming back.”

Harry glances over to you as well. And he smiles. “Yeah. We’re coming back.”

You reach out to weave your fingers with his before looking to the man in the bed. “Promise you’ll be here when we do?”

Asher laughs again, and it’s a sound you’ve never been more grateful for.

“Fuck yeah,” he agrees, making the three of you smile. “Come on. Where else am I gonna go?”

And you grin wider than you have in weeks.

No matter where you move or where you stay, as long as you have them…

You’re finally home.

OKAY I KNOW THE ENDING WAS SAPPY, BUT I SWEAR THIS ISN'T THE END OF ASHER!!! JUST A CHANCE TO EXPLORE SOME OTHER THINGS!!! 😭💞💞💞

Credit for the amazing divider to @firefly-graphics 💞

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milswrites · 2 months

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One More Day

~Eris Vanserra X Reader

Series masterlist

Summary: Eris had let you go in the hope that distancing himself would protect you from his father. However, the damage has already been done. What lengths would Eris go to in order to ensure your safety?

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of sex, mentions of torture, fighting, character death

Notes: Promise it’s a happy ending

Eris had been swift to leave your room the next morning once dawn had broken, having done so whilst you were still asleep. The sheets which were still radiating warmth from where he once laid, were a painful reminder that last night had really happened. That your beloved Eris had selflessly let you go.

The fire in your room had completely extinguished whilst you slept and in the absence of the burning heat which once kept you blissfully warm, a cold chill had taken its place, settling into your room like an unwelcome guest.

You clung tightly to the smoke and chestnut scented sheets where the male had spent his final night with you, wanting to absorb all the heat remaining in hope that it would provide you with some modicum of comfort. However, your efforts were futile, the damage had already been done.

It took an unbelievable amount of time for you to muster up the strength to leave your bed. The chill, however, had finally gotten to you. Settling deep within your bones until it caused your spine to tingle and the hairs on your arms to stand on end. Seeking warmth you crawled out from beneath your covers to run yourself a steaming bath.

Even the enveloping heat of the tepid water could do nothing to soothe your aching heart. Soaking in the bubble-filled tub only reminded you of the times you shared this special moment with Eris. Both seeking to reach that delectable high together as you met each other’s desperate thrusts, water spilling from the tub onto the cold wooden floors below. Or even just the times where Eris had sought you out after a particularly bad day with his father. You could picture it now, the Autumn prince lying peacefully between your bare legs, eyes closed in satisfaction as you carefully washed his body for him, releasing all of his unwanted tension as you littered his body with sweet kisses.

The truth was everything would remind you of Eris. The past few years together had provided some of your happiest memories, there was no way one night of pain and detachment provided by him would change that, nor the love you felt so deeply for the man. Moving on was unnegotiable.

With the shock of last night slowly fading from your system, and your need for Eris only growing stronger in his absence, despite the finality of his words, perhaps now you would be able to have your say in the situation. You would find the wounded male and beg him not to end things, promise him that there would never be another male who could please you in the way he does and that you would wait a thousand years and a thousand more for his father to die if only it meant you could be with him once the day finally arrives.

You decided there, soaking in the now luke-warm tub of water, that you would fight for Eris Vanserra. Fight for the man who assumed he only had himself to protect him. And you would spend the rest of your days proving to him just how much he deserves to be loved in the way he has done so to you and his court.

~~~~~

Once dressed, you exited your chambers in search of the Prince, hoping he would be locked away, alone in his office, so you would be able to sneak in unnoticed. You walked quickly through the corridors, keeping your head down to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

Unfortunately your bad luck from the previous night had carried through to today as you turned round the corner, entering the corridor where Eris’s office is found, only to come face to face with your cruel High Lord, flanked by a number of his guards.

“My Lord, forgive me” you apologise for being in his way, providing him a small, nervous curtsy before stepping to the side, allowing him to pass.

He sneered at you but made to continue on his way. Relief flooding into your system as he passed, until he did a double take and slowly turned to face you, malicious grin finding a home on his face. “Y/N dear! How lovely to see you,” he simpered, words failing to veil the scheming tone hidden in-between his sugared words, “It has been too long since we last spoke, wouldn’t you agree? Please, entertain an old man and walk with me.”

You couldn’t think of anything worse, yours eyes flickering to the waiting door of Eris’s office as you prayed to the cauldron for him to appear and see what was unfolding outside. To no such luck the red-haired male did not emerge from his room, instead Beron blocked your hopeful view of the door, his expectant eyes meeting your own.

“Shall we?” He pressed, holding his arm out for you to take. There would be no declining your High Lord’s offer for fear of what would entail if you did. Bowing your head in acceptance you wrapped your arm around his, allowing him to guide you to wherever he was heading.

Every inch of your body was tense with nerves, you were sure the male could feel it through your interlocked arms. That and you were convinced that just like the hounds Eris bred, Beron could smell the fear dripping from you, using your panic to fuel his blood-curdling power.

“I must say,” he mused as he led you, “I had almost forgotten you existed until I heard your name spoken by one of my sons yesterday. It was quite the surprise.”

Your heart raced, nausea clawing at your throat at the realisation of his words. Eris’s brother had told him. Your love had been too blind to notice the fire that had already been started behind his back. His ending of the relationship between you was too late. “My name, my Lord?” You asked with as steady a voice as you could muster, not wanting to reveal anything more to the man who was no doubt testing you.

“Indeed!” His unsettling grin was enough to cause your eyes to sting with tears that begged to be released, “you see, he seemed to be under the impression that you had been receiving nightly visits from my eldest son.”

“Eris, my Lord? I dare say that’s not proper.” You said pouring every ounce of innocence and surprise into your words, praying that he would not see through them. His smile as he gestured you to enter the room he had stopped before, his throne room, told you everything. Your words meant nothing to him. There wasn’t a single thing you could say that would convince him otherwise.

One of his guards stepped past the two of you, your arms still interlocked no doubt to ensure you couldn’t escape, and opened the heavy door of the throne room. A small circular table was set up near the dark, ominous throne at the back of the room, three chairs surrounding it and a steaming pot of tea placed tidily in the middle. A panicked breath caught in your throat, he had been expecting to run into you in that corridor, you running into him had been no mistake. Beron had always planned to bring you back here to await whatever nasty punishment was to come.

He mocked a sarcastic gasp at your visible anxiety, pulling you towards the table and helping you to take a seat, “There’s nothing to worry about dear, you’re very safe with me. Please, join me for a drink whilst we wait.” Beron needn’t say who you were waiting for, the empty chair which stared at you from across the table made it obvious. He was waiting for Eris.

The Autumn guards split, two standing by the door in anticipation of the Prince’s arrival and two stood behind you, all with their hands on the hilt of their sheathed swords. Ready to attack if either you or Eris did anything rash.

Content and in his element, Beron poured you both a tea as you slipped your hands around the delicate china, hoping to absorb some strength from the warmth it provided.

“Have I ever told you the story of Lucien’s first love?” He said it casually, as if he were sat at the table sharing the company of a close friend, not a low-born fae who his eldest son had taken a liking to.

“No, my Lord,” you answered, unsure of where this was going, Eris rarely spoke of his estranged brother, not wanting to rub the salt in the wound of their strained yet healing relationship. He promised you he would introduce the two of you one day and that was enough for you.

The curiosity in your voice seemed to please the Lord whose smile never failed to falter, even as he drank. “She was simply beautiful,” he started with an evil glint in his eye, “like you of course. Although not like you I suppose, she was a lesser fae you’re just a low-born.” You stilled not sure if you wanted to be compared to this unfortunate woman who no doubt served as a painful lesson for poor Lucien.

Beron continued his story, “My son thought himself in love with her, can you imagine?” -a cold laugh broke from his throat- “if there’s one thing I pride myself for it’s my control. My power. Sometimes I feel like my sons like to test me, it’s only natural I suppose, growing up in the position they did. I had to teach him a lesson of course. Power is power after all…”

He trailed off, a watchful eye hovering over your steady expression, daring you to react to his words. Your mask stayed strong so he carried on speaking, “I crushed the weed at the source. Showed my son the control I held over him, over my court. You know, it’s funny I can’t say I even remember the poor things name, just that she died screaming.”

The cup was now trembling in your hands, scalding liquid spilling onto your skin, yet you remained unflinching. “An unfortunate lesson which had to be learned” you forced the lie from your throat, a pitiful attempt to please the High Lord. Not wanting to end up like that poor girl, like Lucien’s lost love.

The Autumn King opened his mouth to speak once more, no doubt to throw some more thinly veiled threats in your direction. His words, however, were interrupted by the doors to the hall flying open with vicious force. Eris had arrived.

~~~~~

If you weren’t already doomed before your love’s arrival, you most definitely were now. Eris did not even attempt to mask the emotion on his face. His face which was contorted into a harrowing mess of guilt, shock and pain at your presence in the room. An expression which you prayed to never again see on the prince’s face. Which of course, if things continued the way they that were going, you wouldn’t have to.

“What’s the meaning of this!” He demanded, striding angrily across the long room towards where you were sat with his father. The two guards behind you drew closer, one raising the cold tip of a dagger to your neck, a warning to the Autumn Prince. The other two cards by the door exited the room, closing the doors to stand watch and ensure no one would interrupt what was about to transpire.

“I seem to have found out about your whore” Beron snarled at the attitude his son was defiantly displaying towards him. That was until he reminded himself that he had the higher ground and the blade against your neck, which instilled him with confidence as he spoke, “I won’t deny I’m not hurt my son. Hiding such a beautiful gem from me. And what a sweet thing she is, I would be lying if I said I didn’t crave a taste.”

Eris growled at his father’s words, “Don’t speak about her like that.”

“Or what son” Beron matched his son’s ferocity, standing abruptly from his seat to move towards him, “you’re in no position to threaten me!”

“I- I…” the usually deadly composed Eris Vanserra was struggling to find the words to spit back at his father. Beron hissed out a sharp laugh at Eris’s failure to talk, his eyes filled with wildfire, “But that’s exactly it, isn’t it dear son. Your little jaunts to the Night Court, the correspondence with your ruined brother, hushed plans to kill your own father.”

Eris’s eyes blew wide at the realisation that his father had been aware of his traitorous antics the entire time. “Yes I knew” Beron spat at his son’s feet in disgust, “so I think it’s time I taught you the same lesson I taught Lucien. Remind you of the reason why I’m in the one charge!”

At the High Lord’s words, the guard holding the dagger to your throat drew it even closer, nicking your once unmarked skin and causing a trail of blood to trickle down your neck. Eris flashed his worried eyes towards you, unsure of how to act to ensure your safety.

A grim expression settled on his face as the young prince reached to his waist and unsheathed his sword. He had to make a stand now or be at risk of losing everything he had worked so hard for and held so close to his heart.

~~~~~

Beron laughed callously, drawing his own sword in preparation for the fight ahead, “let’s see how the great Eris Vanserra matches up against his father shall we?”

It was a horrific sight, the two men battling. Yet you couldn’t help but notice there was a beauty to the way the males moved. Flames and swords clashed together in a firey dance. Violent shades of flickering reds, oranges and even white hot blues, reflected in your eyes as you watched on in fear.

The day Eris had longed for, promised you in the hours spent cuddled together in his bed, had finally arrived. And you just had to trust that the male you loved was strong enough to end up the victor of this battle.

It was roaring fire against roaring fire. Yet where Beron’s flame was wild, crackling and unpredictable, Eris managed to keep his controlled and blazing. A testament to all those centuries spent training for this very moment. It was a miracle how the heat being emitted from their destructive fight hadn’t consumed them both alive and taken you and the soldiers with them into the sweet embrace of death.

It was getting more and more difficult for you to watch, the heat so extreme your eyes were burning with the effort of keeping them open amongst all the sparks flying wildly and the thick smoke filling the room.

Until it happened. The moment Eris had waited for all his life. A slip of control from Beron who was so consumed by his rage allowed for Eris to make the final strike. The long sharp blade of his sword ran through his father’s chest. The injured man gasping in surprise before collapsing in a bloody heap on the floor. Dead.

The fire Eris had created dimmed but didn’t burn out completely, not while you were still in danger. A crazed Eris turned to you, fire in his eyes. The dagger shook against your throat but somehow the soldier stayed firm, even with the new High Lord stalking towards him. A hound closing in on its prey.

~~~~~

But Eris needn’t act. The dagger suddenly dropping from your neck as the perpetrator joined the dead Autumn King on the ground. Behind him stood the other soldier, the same soldier who all those months ago proved his loyalty to Eris by not telling Beron of your hidden relationship. He had saved your life twice now.

Eris relaxed, sword clattering to the ground in relief as the loyal male knelt down before him, before his new High Lord. A man worth following. But Eris was blind to his devotion, his only need being you. Stumbling towards you, you met the male halfway. Crashing into him so you could deliver the most heartfelt hug you could muster. The soldier leaving you two in peace to deal with Beron’s men waiting behind the door.

Your bodies entwined and melted into one as you and Eris sank to the floor together. Pearlescent tears flowed down his face and you kissed each and every one of them away, drawing the salty liquid from his cheeks. “I was so scared” the male sobbed as you drew his head into your chest for comfort, brushing his hair softly with your hands.

There were no tears from you. Not today. Not when you were so overwhelmingly proud of the male before you. Of the male who had not just saved you, but his entire court from the cruel grasp of his father’s bruising control. It was a new day, and the first of many beautiful ones to follow as the Autumn Prince comes into his power and takes his rightful place on the throne.

“It’s ok” you whispered lovingly into Eris’s ears, “you’ve done so well my love. You can live your life now. We can live our life. Together.”

As the broken but healing male looked up hopefully into your loving eyes, the spark shared between the two of you ignited once more, and the blazing fire, which burned so brightly it could be likened to the sun, returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Notes: You know what would be perfect to finish this off?!? Sweet soft smutty goodness 😭 Never written smut before but lord I may try, but I’ll need your encouragement 😭😭 so possibly a third and final part to come?

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @glitterypirateduck

#acotar #fanfic #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra imagine #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris x reader #eris imagine #eris vanserra #eris #Eris oneshot #Eris Vanserra oneshot

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diagonal-queen · 1 year

Text

how i think bsd characters would hug: ada edition

atsushi: his hugs would be relatively standard but they’d be so comforting! he’s a person who would give you one little extra squeeze before letting go ♡ his hugs vary in length but if you wanted it he could cling to you for hours.

dazai: he doesn’t seem like a hugger to me, unless you’re his s/o, so i guess you’re lucky to receive them! dazai’s hugs would be gentle and protective. he would rub your back and talk to you while he hugs you (mostly affirmative and comforting stuff). tucks your head under his chin.

kunikida: i love this man to the moon and back but his hugs would probably be bad at first. i’m sorry but he’d give you like a pat on the back and that would be it T-T as your s/o though he would give really good firm hugs. it’d feel like you’re being shielded with safety and support ♡ in other words, an ideal hug.

jun’ichiro: he would give tight hugs that make you feel wanted and that really emphasise his gratitude for your existence. though if you hugged him for too long you might start turning blue. other than that he’d give you SUPERB shoulder rubs.

naomi (platonic): her hugs are the ones that you never see coming, and probably wouldn’t be too appreciated if you didn’t expect them. they suffocate you. but when you need a good tight hug you’d be hard pressed to find a better candidate than naomi ♡

ranpo: ranpo wraps his arms around your neck/back and just tugs you into him. he buries his face in your neck and crushes you to death like you’re a plushie or a body pillow. he softens when you hug him back, and he taps his fingers on your back while he’s hugging you.

yosano: yosano gives hugs the same way a mother does. like she’ll just let you listen to her heartbeat while she strokes her hands through your hair and pats your back. she also talks to you when hugging you. overall, her hugs make you feel calm and safe. help im simping i want her

kyoka (platonic): her hugs are uncertain at first and are a little loose, but the closer to you she gets the tighter and more desperate her hugs are. kyoka’s hugs SCREAM ‘i’m glad you’re here with me’. hug her back please, she deserves it ♡

kenji (platonic): kenji thinks he’s giving you a regular ol’ hug. in reality he is suffocating you. please tell him he’s suffocating you, he’ll smile and give you a little apology and loosen his grip. once he does it’ll be a nice hug! kenji radiates comfort energy.

haruno (platonic): haruno is probably the perfect hugger. she gives the best hugs! they’re always as chill or as intense as you need them to be, and you can feel her love every time she hugs you. when she’s excited she’d hug similar to naomi.

katai: his hugs are unintentionally a bit too much. like he will wrap his entire wingspan around you like a shield. his intentions are to make you feel loved, and although he’s an awkward hugger the message definitely gets across ♡ if you’re in his futon together he’d squish you like a body pillow.

fukuzawa: he isn’t a firm hugger but he isn’t a loose hugger if that makes sense? he’ll place his hands on your back or on your head and make you feel appreciated. his hugs are an indirect promise to protect you, always. give him a random squeeze and you might just surprise him.

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glorified-red · 1 year

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Auburn Traditions (Damian Wayne x Reader)

summary: After your wedding, Damian spends the night finding his name in your bridal henna. In the safety of your presence, he can share his true feelings to you. word count: 1,550~ warnings: none Special thanks to @quillsareswords for bouncing ideas around until this fic was born. I am soft for this man. This is the mushiest thing I've written in so long. Literally kicking my feet writing this.

It came as no surprise when Damian popped the question.

You two flourished beside each other, growing individually in the comfort of each other’s embrace. For years you stood beside Damian. Through high school you helped him study every exam season, said quick greetings in the halls, and even helped him find all his classes his first year. In college you motivated him through finals, went to every pesky orientation, and cheered the loudest when he walked across the stage one final time.

Almost in tandem, Damian returned the favor. He asked you to Prom your senior year, holding up a shy bouquet of flowers and a corsage. He attended every performance of yours, big or small, because the mere presence of him was more support than you could ever wish for. Damian dragged you to bed on long nights and held you through so many tough ones, never letting go through it all.

You moved out together years later after you found the perfect forever home and finally made it yours. The walls were painted deep into the night, muted tones swiped onto his nose only for him to fling it back at you. Together, Christmas lights were hung across the house year after year as you danced to the upbeat tunes in your own living room while the fireplace warms you up after a long day in the snow.

So when Damian kneeled before you, his heart pouring out of his chest as he spoke words of reflection and his own green eyes shining with affection, you had to say yes. A year of bliss with Damian Wayne, your fiancé, soon to be husband. You carved out a section of this chaotic world and made it your own, a section full of adoration and unwavering love.

The wedding night was one to remember. It was an extravagant night filled with family, music, and laughter. Damian couldn’t keep his eyes off his bride for very long, far too many of the wedding photos showed Damian’s soft gaze towards you.

Your vows were heartfelt and private, opting to say your true feelings in the comfort of each other and no one more. Damian Wayne, the man of very few words, had the most poetic words fall from his lips that day. Damian Wayne, the man with ironclad emotions, cried in front of you when the vows continued forward—not that he’d ever admit that, but you knew.

So here you were, the wedding night bliss still radiating off of you as you sat in front of Damian—your husband—on your shared bed. Your outfits were hung up ages ago, torn off the second you could and changed into something more cozy with softer fabrics and looser seams. Bobby pins were scattered across the bathroom sink as you let your hair rest. Damian’s own hair was ruffled, the gel long since worn off.

Neither of you minded, no amount of makeup or luxurious outfits could make Damian fall for you any harder than he already has.

“You’re really intent on finding it,” you commented playfully, your voice dipped into softer volume. Your hands rested in his, decorated in vibrant amber. Delicate florals weaved their way across your fingertips and palms, vines twirled across the negative space until their leaves grew on your hands. Mother Earth herself had kissed your hands and let her beauty flow across your skin—her own blessing to the marriage.

Henna: a tradition that was nothing short of mesmerizing. You remembered the day Damian asked for this, a small portion of his heritage incorporated into the best night of his life. And of course, you said yes, accepting every part of him happily.

His hands traced along the arabic style that seeped into your skin, spaced out leaves and florals that left a gorgeous amount of free space to show off your own beautiful skin. It wasn’t nearly as intricate as Mehndi, for this style of henna focused on the palms to bring in love and cherish memories. But every dot on your skin was as fascinating as the one before it, carefully placed into a beautiful design.

“Of course,” Damian responded, his gaze incredibly focused on the detailed pattern on your hands. He flipped over your hands to look at the top. “The fate of the marriage rests on this moment.”

You snorted, “You just don’t want to admit that I’m the dominant one in the relationship.”

Damian tsked, “You wish.”

“Well,” you looked over at the clock, “you have five minutes before that superstition comes true. Better hurry up, bird boy.”

“There’s no need to rush me, I will find it before the night is over.”

You hummed in disbelief, a playful tone falling from your lips. The room fell to comfortable silence once more, the only sound was the soft breathing that landed onto the tips of your fingers.

His hands were so gentle as they touched yours, a faint warmth emitting from his own hands and transferring to yours. Even as he turned your hands this way and that, his fingertips traced along the design. The touch was feather-light, almost tickling the surface of your hand.

He never touched with much pressure. Even though the dye was a deep rich color, beautifully stained on your hands and wrists, he didn’t dare to wear it thin. Talia herself told you every tradition as she crafted the henna on your hand, happy to play such a significant role in her son's marriage—and welcoming you to the family? She was overjoyed to receive that call.

So when your henna turned into a darker tone overnight, you immediately knew the deep connection between you and Damian was gorgeously on display. The color signified more than just love and an unwavering bond, but it also represented your place beside your new family, and the love you will surely receive from them.

“You look beautiful with this on, Zawjati,” he spoke just barely above a whisper, as if the amber design had Damian mesmerized. The words fell from his lips absent-mindedly, a new term of endearment taking flight in an instant. The gesture meant more to him than he could ever explain, from the reconnection to understanding, all the way to acceptance, his heart was unbelievably full.

You glanced up at him, your eyes met the softened gaze of a man so deeply in love, the rest of the word slipped away. That gaze conveyed more to you than any poetic vow.

Your heart was equally as full. His simple wedding band was smooth against your fingers, the new shimmer of metal was vibrant against the tan of his skin. Your own traditions having melted into the wedding with the rings, a permanent symbol of the promise Damian made to you each and every day: to love and cherish you.

“That’s a new one,” you said, pushing past the breathless feeling in your lungs.

He rolled your fingers in his and sparks flew up your chest just like the first day you met him, even after all these years. He hummed in question, his eyes scanning the patterns with deep concentration.

“Zawjati,” you continued. “What does that one mean?”

Damian shifted slightly, not uncomfortably so, but as if his brain was mulling words around behind his eyes so his body swayed on instinct. “My wife.”

The smile that broke across your face happened in an instant, a full gleam of happiness filled your body that you couldn’t possibly contain. “Oh?” you teased, as if the words didn’t burrow themselves in your chest to create blossoming trees, “I’ve upgraded now.”

The corner of his lip ticked upwards so slightly you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t staring. There was a tint of your lipstick stained on his lips that you didn’t notice before. His fingers toyed with yours, they slipped in between yours with a ticklish touch.

“I’ve been wanting to call you that for years,” he said it so simply, like that profession didn’t take the air out of your lungs and make your heart flutter alongside it.

“Years?” you breathed out, stunned by his words. You knew his love for you was profound, but to be looking forward to spending the rest of his life with you for years? Your head whirled from the whiplash.

“Yes.” Just as simply as the words that came before. “My heart knew who it belonged to the second you entered my life. You were the only one who ever saw me for who I really was, not who I could become. You were the only one who made me look forward to living, not for the sake of saving lives to simply do it again the next day, but to keep coming home to you.”

“You make the future seem possible. You,” he breathed, “you make me want to be better, not because I have to, but because I truly want to. That is why I’ve always been more partial to the other translation of Zawjati.”

The word rolled off his tongue and your heart danced. “And what’s that?”

His thumb swiped across your pulse point where his name was imprinted on your skin in subtle cursive, easily blending into a vine. He gently brought the point to his lips.

“My better half.”

Taglist ♡

@anothertimdrakestan

@cherry-dropp

@missredrobin

#Damian Wayne x reader #Damian Wayne x you #Damian Wayne x y/n #robin #Damian wayne #robin x reader #robin x you #robin x y/n #Arab Damian wayne #bridal henna #fluff #batfam #batfamily #batboys #dc #dc comics #batman

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starofthesea7 · 1 year

Text

Neteyam~Want You All To Myself

Neteyam is like an older brother to you…until he isnt. He hates when you flirt with anyone else, so you decide to use that to your advantage 18+ it gets spicy (smut) at the end. Enjoy!

Neteyam was your protector. He always had been, and his presence gave you a sense of safety that you couldn’t find anywhere-or from anyone- else. He was quiet, but his presence was loud, and you loved that about him. He was tall, and broad and sure of himself, something words could never provide on their own, as hard as someone might try. He was a shield, and you knew he’d take a bullet for you if the occasion arose.

You’d grown up together like siblings, after the Sully family had taken you in as one of their own when your parents had died years ago. At the time you were just a child, small, grief stricken and alone. Jake had bestowed your safety as a responsibility onto Neteyam when he was a just young boy. The man had looked into his oldest sons eyes, “you take care of her,” he had said, and Neteyam had taken those words as gospel ever since.

As you had grown older, you had developed a childish crush on Neteyam. It was hard not to notice him, his presence was so large and commanding. No matter how hard you tried to push the feelings aside and be content with a platonic relationship, they blossomed into something deep, and real. Now that you were older, there was something close to your heart that told you it was always meant to be you and him.

You loved everything about him. His big, strong arms that he would casually rest on his thighs as he squatted down to talk to the children. The way his belt rested low on his hips, showing off his chiseled waist and hips. The way his hair swayed when he walked with the confidence radiated from him. His big hands that had comforted you countless times when you were younger. You had only ever had eyes for him, your Neteyam.

You knew your feelings would never be reciprocated, and he would find a beautiful na’vi girl. One who he hadn’t seen playing stupid games with Lo’ak as you had years ago, and he would fall in love. It broke your heart but at least you could still have a relationship with him, even if it wasn’t in the way you longed for.

That was until he began shying away from you. He ignored you and wouldn’t make eye contact when you spoke, brushing off your remarks to go do something “important.” It hurt, having one of the most important people in your life suddenly toss you aside like you no longer interested him.

…

Neteyam didn’t know when it had started. When you-or he- had changed. You had always been a little sister to him, one whom he had taught how to shoot an arrow and tie a hunters knot, who had rested her head against his chest as the family sat around the fire, telling jokes and sharing stories. Eywa knows he couldn’t let you do that now, you’d hear his heart pounding, threatening to burst out of his chest at your closeness. Something had changed. Now he averted his eyes when you bathed in the river, and felt a twist in his heart when Neytiri talked of finding you a mate.

It got to a point where he knew something had to change. He caught himself staring at you as you were innocently bending down in the ocean to wash clothing with some of the other women. His eyes involuntarily followed the curve of your hips and ass, and he noticed a bruise on your upper thigh. How’d that get there? His eyes traveled up to your waist and then to your chest which was obscured by your thick, wavy hair. He thought about the breasts out of his view. How they might look in comparison to his huge hands- you looked back at him innocently and smiled. His eyes widened with shame. Although he knew that you couldn’t read his thoughts, he felt like you knew. Like you knew he was dirty and perverted, even though he was supposed to be the calm, respectful one. Your protector. When you looked at him, he felt too exposed, like you could see the thoughts he had when he laid in bed at night, your room so close to his it made him crazy. This was all so wrong.

So he distanced himself. He started talking to some of the metkayina girls to block out the thought of you. He was quieter, and when you bounded up to him with an interesting thought or idea he averted his gaze and mumbled some excuse. It pained him to see the downcast look in your eyes but it was better than the horror that you would feel if you knew all the things he wished to do to you. So it was his only option.

…

You were sitting on the white sand, watching the boys make up competitions in the bright ocean when you felt a wave of sadness rush to the surface. Neteyam was smiling as Roxto attempted to beat Ao’nung at holding his breath for the longest. Why didn’t Neteyam like you anymore? Why did he toss you aside like you were nothing to him? What did those other girls have that you didn’t? Your eyes pricked with tears. You missed him. You had to do something. Make him look you in the eyes, notice you. You wracked your brain.

If you tried to show off your body to him he would simply tell you to cover up. You had to make him protect you. Get into trouble. You had to flirt with Ao’nung. If you knew one thing about Neteyam it was that he would always protect you from the other boys.

Ao’nung had always had a thing for you. He used to tease you about your shade of blue and number of fingers, but it turned out he was into you. You realized quickly that he didn’t really have feelings for you and just thought you were attractive. He was disprespectful towards girls, you knew that, so you had disregarded his advances many times, but he was a flirter and it always got a rise out of Neteyam.

It was getting dark and the waves lapped at the shore. You could hear the yells of Ao’nung and his group. You decided to swim up to them. You pulled your chest piece just a little farther down, for good measure, and pulled your loincloth down low on your hips. This was perfect. You sucked in a breath and swayed up to them, tossing your hair over your shoulder. You could practically feel Neteyams narrowed eyes burning holes into your skin, but you ignored him. Any’ong smirked at you. “Hey there pretty ‘kaya.” Omatikaya.

“Hey Ao’n.” You smiled, a cute nickname. You twirled your hair between two fingers. Could this be any more obvious? He was smiling down at you, his eyes flickered to your chest, and you saw Neteyam tense. You internally smiled, “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight. I think the bioluminescence is supposed to be especially bright at around midnight.”

He grinned and shot a smug look at Neteyam. “That sounds great. How about I pick you up later tonight?”

“Perfect.” You waved at Roxto’s shocked face as you sauntered off. The bomb had been set, not you just had to wait.

…

During dinner, Neteyam was silent. Hunched over his food, he barely ate. You talked and laughed with Kiri, just like any other night. Glancing at him, him he looked up at you to meet your gaze, a braid falling across his face. He was quiet but his brows furrowed with concern and question. Your heart beat quickened. It was working.

Later that night you were changing in your room, putting on something uncharacteristically small for you, when Neteyam burst into your room with no warning and you hastily tugged a strap over your shoulder. You sat down on a chair. “Do you knock?”

He ignored you, leaning on the table beside you, big and overbearing. “You hate Any’oung.” His voice was deep and aggravated, his chest heaved.

“No I don’t.” You looked up at him, eyes were wide with innocence. “I think he’s cute. And I like his personality.”

His brows furrowed. “You think he’s cute?”

“Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m getting ready.” You turned back to the mirror.

He turned, his fists were balled. He was rarely this aggravated. His broad shoulders were tense. “It’s too cold out to wear that.”

You smiled a little. “Ao’nung said I look hot in this top so-”

He left. Ten minutes later you could hear Ao’nungs taunting voice float through your window. “You know what I’m here for.”

You got up, and reached to open the front door, but paused when you heard Neteyams calm voice reply. “Just leave. We all know you’re going to treat her like shit.” You’re eyebrows raised at his language. He didn’t usually swear. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help but smile. He was looking out for you. Protecting you like there was something in you worth keeping safe.

“Look whos jealous.” Ao’nung laughed. “Its not my fault she chose me when you’ve been thirsting after her all these years.” You froze, eyes wide. Theres no way that was true, Ao’nung was teasing him. “Listen, I don’t blame you, shes hot, just look at that ass.” You blushed, tugging your skirt down a little, head pounding. “But she chose me I won. And I have the whole night to have fun with her. So back o-” There was a crack, followed by a groan and you gasped.

“Shut up.”

You flung open the door. “Neteyam, what are you doing!?” It was dark out but you could see Ao’nung on the ground, holding a bleeding nose. You ran over to him, and bent down-Neteyam averted his gaze, “Are you ok?” Ao’nung groaned, eyes shut.

“Your brother’s a jealous asshole.” Embarrassingly, your heart swelled at his words.

“I’m not her brother.” Neteyam snapped. You glanced at him as you helped Ao’nung up. His eyes were dark as he glared at Ao’nung.

“Keep telling yourself that bro, shes not gonna wanna fu-”

“Leave now before I break the rest of your face.” Neteyams face was flushed with embarrassment, and if looks could kill, Ao’nung would’ve been dead by now. Raising his hands in defeat, he backed away. Then he looked at you with a wink, “Listen, we’ll have our fun another night, ok?”

When he was gone you raised your eyebrows, “What was that?”

Neteyams voice was quiet, “He was saying fucked up things about you.” His chest was heaving and tense with adrenaline. He looked down at his hand, it bloodied from the punch.

You pursed your lips. “Come.” You led him inside, hand on his arm. You sat him by the fire. It was late and the rest of the family was in bed. You sat across from him, knees touching his, your soft thighs dwarfed by his large muscular ones. He was warm, and you tingled at the touch. You reached for his hand, and he grimaced as he moved the fingers, making sure nothing was broken. His gaze was averted, he was ashamed at how out of hand everything had gotten.

You felt stupid now, uncomfortable in your outfit. You put some healing paste on his cuts and began to wrap it in cloth. He lifted his gaze and looked down at you, your face, creased with concentration as you dressed his wound.

“ ‘M sorry.” His voice was soft and raspy. You looked up at him. Your faces were close and you wanted to reach out so badly to and touch him. You wanted to be closer to him, feel him. His eyes were soft and apologetic. He nudged you with his thigh gently. “I should’ve stayed out of it.” You nodded in agreement. “It’s just…he’s a dick, and it…” he trailed off, his eyes darting to your lips but he quickly ripped them away. “When I see you with someone else it-”

“Somone else?” You interrupted him, trying to decipher his wording.

His eyes widened slightly. “I mean-”

“’Teyam.” His breath hitched at your nickname for him, you sucked in a breath. If there was ever a time to get this weight of your chest it was now. You had to bite the bullet. He was barely talking to you anyway. “Why don’t we talk anymore? Why do you ignore me when I talk you you?” There was a pause, you could tell he wasn’t sure what to say. “…I don’t feel like you’re my brother.” His eyes searched yours, trying to find the meaning of your words. Your chest felt tight, your heart beat the fastest it ever had. You looked down, rubbing the back of his large hand with your thumb gently. His fingers were large and slender. “Was Ao’nung telling the truth?” A pause. “Do you?”

His eyes flickered to your shoulder where your strap was falling down. He reached out and tugged it back up gently. “Do I what?” He was going to make you say it. Your head felt light. It was as if his thigh touching yours was the only thing keeping you from floating away. You felt tiny, minuscule compared to him. Was he going deny you? Or worse, laugh at you? “Um, never mind.”

His eyes softened at your shyness. Of course he wanted you. He couldn’t get his mind off you no matter how hard he tried. He voice was low, “Thinking about him…touching you makes me want to kill him.” His eyes were dark. He didn’t fully answer your question. Your heart beat quickened at his words, “Thinking about anyone touching you makes me sick.” There was a pause. “I want you all to myself.” His eyes met yours, piercing and unwavering, flickering with the light of the fire. His jaw clenched.

Your chest heaved. Your voice sounded quiet, far away. Like you were in a dream. “Teyam, you can have me.” He let out a breath that he didn’t know he had been holding, and lifted his bandaged hand to your face. It found the back of your head, grasping at your thick hair and you exclaimed softly as he pulled your face towards him. His lids were heavy as he breathed you in. He held your face close to his, barely grazing his lips against yours. He was teasing you. You tried to follow his mouth with yours but he held you firm. “You always flash me when you bend over. Here I was thinking you’re all innocent.” You felt it his hard cheekbones rise as he smiled. You blushed at his words. Finally he tilted his head and kissed you, softly at first, then hard and feverishly. His breath was hot. He was all consuming-big and broad. He smelled like damp earth and wood. You melted into him, hands grasping at his arms.

His teeth grazed your lips biting you softly, he was hungry for you, he’d waited so long. He finally broke away. “Come ‘ere” his other hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you off your seat to sit on his thigh. You moaned softly as his hard muscle rubbed against your core. He smiled into the kiss and bounced his leg slightly, feeling you wet against his thigh. You gasped.

There was something daring, knowing anyone could walk in on the two of you. It made you hot with need. He pulled away and sat back in his chair, his chest heaving with breaths. His hands fell to the fat of your hips, and he stared up at you. His eyes fell to your top, where one of your breasts was threatening to spill out. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted and wet. He raised his hand, fingers toying lazily with the bottom hem. “Can I see?” You clenched your thighs at his words, and swallowed thickly, nodding. He was agonizingly slow, eyes glued to your chest, inching the net-like fabric down until your striped breasts popped out the top of the hem, nipples hardening against the cool air. His breath hitched and he brought his huge hands up to them, dwarfing them. He felt himself harden at the size difference between his large, calloused hands and your soft, delicate breasts. It was even better than he had imagined. You instinctively nudged them into his warm hands and he let out a small moan, tugging roughly at the nipple.“So pretty.”

You whined, bucking into him, needing friction. You felt empty. It was getting darker as the fire began to die, but your eyes traveled down the contours of his chest and abs to his loincloth. You could make out a little wet patch of precum that made you lightheaded. He watched your expression contort with pleasure as you began to move faster. He bounced his leg, it made him agonizingly hard watching your breasts bounce and mouth hang open in pleasure. His fingers clawed at your soft hips, he wanted so badly fill you up, make you feel good. He pulled the cheeks of your ass apart, and you groaned at the feeling of him splitting you open.

His hand traveled down from your hips to your loincloth. He moved it aside slightly, just so your glistening slit peeked out. His eyes widened at the sight or your lips dragging against him in a mess of slick. Even now, this felt so wrong. Something inside him was screaming to stop, who told him this was ok? He was supposed to be your protector, but something even louder kept him going. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing lazy circles. Your mouth fell open with warbled moan and he pulled your face into his neck “Quieter,” He whispered, teeth grazing your ear. You could feel his sharp jaw clench against your temple. His huge hand cradled your head, fingers tangled in your hair as you bucked your hips, faster. You were so close. “Teyam, teyam, teyam.” Your voice was airy and high, and his name was a whispered chant on your lips. You clutched at his back, tender breasts squashed against his hard chest, nipples rubbing against him. It made his knees weak. You came with a warbled groan, and the sound made his cock twitch. Your thighs clenched together as he overstimulated you. He held you close as you shuddered, riding you through your orgasm, teeth grazing your ear. Your cunt clenched around nothing, and the movement against his thigh made him lightheaded with need.

He slowed and you slumped against him, feeling his prominent hardness through fabric. It was dark and you stilled, your breaths the only thing hanging in the air. You could feel his chest beneath your head, rising and falling. You stayed there for a few minutes, his rough fingertips tracing circles on your shoulder.

There was a sudden creak in the floor and you quickly stood, tugging your top back over your breasts. You jolted as he brushed your clit, tugging your cloth back over your cunt. You could barely make out his smug smile. Your knees felt weak.

Footsteps, then a dark figure, Jake, appeared, wiping his eyes. “Oh kids, didn’t see you there.”

“Oh hey dad, we were just heading to bed.” Neteyams voice was raspy and he was still reclined, big hands resting on his thighs. His eyes were fixed on you, mouth slightly open, looking up at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world.

You cleared your throat, but your voice came out embarrassingly hoarse, “Yeah, goodnight.” You turned around and made your way to your room. You swayed your hips exaggeratedly, even though it was too dark for Neteyam to see, leaving him to take care of his agonizing hard on.

You couldn’t help but smile.

#neteyam #neteyamxyou #neteyam x you #Avatar 2 #avatarimagines #avatar way of water #neteyamxreader #neteyam smut #avatar smut #neteyamsully #sully family #sully family imagine #avatar #smut #neteyam imagine

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mykoreanlove · 1 month

Text

i am beyond ✨delulu✨ for this man

“Y/N! Baby! Love of my life! Y/N!”

Taemin’s longing calls filled the whole apartment.

It had been a lazy day for both of you; you had not even bothered to leave the bed.

“I’m coming!”, you screamed back, hoping he’d hear you in the other room.

You smiled to yourself as you applied the vanilla-scented lotion all over your body, taking your time to pamper yourself some more. You deeply inhaled the scent and reveled in the feelings it gave you. Safety, comfort, and love, just like Taemin did.

The look in the mirror confirmed it beautifully – you were glowing, radiating with love and happiness like never before.

“Y/N!”

You shook your head laughing and put on a silky robe, making your way over to your bratty boyfriend.

It was dark as the sun had already set but the golden fairy lights he had put up in the whole apartment guided you on your way to him.

Taemin sat on the leather couch, eagerly waiting for you. He wasn’t wearing anything but grey sweats, showing off his upper body deliciously.

His eyes glowed as brightly as the fairy lights as he finally saw you.

“Y/N!”, he smiled happily.

You walked over to him with the biggest smile on your lips, eternally grateful to be loved like that.

Taemin’s eyes didn’t leave you as you walked over to him, quite the opposite actually. He was looking you up and down, gracefully admiring what was his.

You sat down on his lap and brushed away his dark, long hair, exposing his beautiful features even more.

“Why did you call me?”, you whispered innocently.

His hands roamed your body cautiously, treating your delicate skin like marble. Soon after, they landed forcefully on your ass, squeezing, and pulling you closer to him.

“I just missed you too much.”, he answered truthfully.

“We spent the whole day fucking and you still miss me?”, you laughed out loud.

“Technically, it wasn’t the whole day”, he whispered while looking into your eyes deeply. “Let’s make it that though.”

You placed a soft kiss on his plush lips while mumbling.

“You’re insatiable, Lee Taemin.”

Taemin broke the kiss and looked at you, hands at your sides squeezing.

“How could I not be when it’s you, y/n?”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, once again, you were falling for him.

Your lips crashed onto each other, hungrily longing for more.

Wandering hands, grazing teeth, soft lips, and dirty kisses – Taemin loved you in the same way he performed his music: artistically and eclectically.

You were grinding on him, feeling the hard bulge against your throbbing core.

His hands wandered to the front of your robe, untying the knot, and slipping it off your shoulders.

“That’s a very pretty gown, baby. But it looks better on the floor if you ask me.”

You chuckled as you slid it off entirely, exposing your nude body to him.

His eyes widened once more, admiring every single inch of you. Even though he had seen you naked millions of times, he was still taken aback by it. He never made you feel ordinary or taken for granted, no, he made you feel like a precious gem, like something you would die for.

“I was right. You look way better without it.”, he mused.

He placed a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Taste so good”, he mumbled against your skin.

He buried his head into your neck and inhaled your scent.

“Smell so good”, he muttered quietly.

Taemin loved praising you, whereas you loved the feeling of being praised. His worship got to your head, turning you into a throbbing mess.

“Taemin”, you whined as you circled your hips once more.

“What is it? Is my baby needy?”

You cried out in frustration, needing him right this instant.

His eyes wandered to his crotch, smirking while doing so. The area was dark grey, proof of how needy you truly were.

He shook his head in fake disapproval and looked at you once more.

“So needy for me, huh? Leaking on my sweatpants like that?”

Your cheeks turned rosy, slightly embarrassed by your actions.

“Adorable”, he muttered under his breath as he saw you get shy and look down.

“You really need me that badly, huh?”

You nodded again. With a swift motion he got up from the couch while still holding you, walking towards the bedroom once more.

“Can’t say no to that, can I?”

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scaranation · 1 year

Text

༊*·˚ 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂’𝐒

ft. Itto, Xiao, Gorou, Ayato

Content: fluff, established relationship

ITTO

It was undeniable that your boyfriend gave the best hugs. With his large build, you slotted into his tight grip like a puzzle piece - feeling the warmth surrounding you on all sides. His arms radiated safety and reprieve, and when he spoke you’d feel the vibrations through his chest in a comforting lull.

Itto is definitely big on cuddling in general. He’d have you slotted in his arms whilst the two of you relaxed after a long day, or hold you close in the mornings. You were his personal stuffed toy, and he adored spending time with you in his embrace.

Of course, there’d often be times with you holding him - his head resting peacefully in your lap after he’d just been bailed out of jail by Kuki Shinobu, his weight pressing into your thighs as you stroked his thick hair. Itto would be the type to fall asleep whilst cuddling, and you would drift off with him - or at least, until his snoring broke the tranquil silence. There was rarely ever a dull moment with the oni, after all.

XIAO

Xiao was hesitant at first to hold you. After all, misfortune had befallen those he’d previously treasured, and so it took some time for him to relax into your embrace.

However, once he discovered the joy of cuddling, he would never be able to live without it. You’d chuckle at how cute he was - tentatively pulling you closer. If you ever remarked on it, he’d immediately flush and pull away to vehemently refute the notion that he’d crave such a mundane thing. Secretly however, he loves it - especially when you pat his head, trailing your fingers around his features softly until he drifted off into a peaceful dream. Perhaps his karmic debt was more bearable with you around.

On rare occasions, you’d have the pleasure of waking up before Xiao to find yourself entangled in his arms - to which you’d usually kiss his closed eyelids softly, intertwining your fingers with his as he slowly opened his eyes. You liked to rest your head in the smooth slope of skin where his neck met his shoulder, breathing in his scent and gently rocking back and forth. Although he’d never admit it, Xiao enjoyed nothing more than being in your embrace.

GOROU

Gorou’s canine qualities lent the general to having a penchant for physical affection. He’d usually always be touching you somehow - whether it was a brush of your hands as you attended to your duties around Watatsumi Island, or a casual hand placed tepidly at your waist. When the two of you cuddled, you couldn’t help but tease him for his furiously wagging tail - gently fondling his ears as he only huffed and pulled you closer.

Gorou would love to gently nibble at your skin - not in a sexual way, merely as a catalyst for expressing his affection. His tail would thump against the couch as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, hands cradling your form to his.

After some time, Gorou would eventually cease his incessant wriggling and settle down, relaxing. His eyes would droop as he felt safe with you, drowsily registering the feeling of your hand against his cheek. Gorou would be the type to snuggle deeper into your arms, subconsciously pressing his cheek into yours as the two of you drifted off.

AYATO

Ayato was a sly man, and so a semblance of regularity in physical touch was established early in your relationship. He’d delight in teasing you endlessly - leaning closer than usual or pulling you against him in an attempt to see your blush.

In private, the man would be clingy to a ridiculous extent - who would’ve guessed that the Yashiro Commissioner would be clasping his partner’s waist tightly and pleading them to cuddle a little longer? Whether it was a back hug or a fond morning embrace, Ayato was addicted to your touch.

His skin would be cool and smooth, smelling sweetly of something crystalline you couldn’t quite place. He’d be the type to lovingly trace your features, thumbing over your lips as he merely gazed at you - spare hand drawing shapes on the small of your back. Ayato would greatly enjoy cuddling with you as a means of relieving stress after his duties as Commissioner, carding his fingers through your hair in a calming manner. Just like how the ripples in a perturbed pond eventually dissipate, so too would Ayato’s energy as he finally found peace of mind in your arms, finally closing his eyes in utter contentment at being with you.

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leakyweep · 3 months

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@anon-germany says: Please C3 👉🏻👈🏻❤️✨

A/N; Thanks for joining in, wifey! I hope you enjoy the sweetest first kiss with the sweetest man :3

C3 - Dracule Mihawk / Soft moments

Words; 0.5k

While this fiction is rated for everyone, my blog is not. You must be 18+ to access my blog. Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked.

The breeze through the palm trees of the bay swayed the feather in Mihawk's hat, swishing it in time with the flora. The sun was smiling down upon them, but neither of you had anything to smile about. The comforting cradle of Mihawk's hand against your cheek kept you grounded in this moment with him instead of caught up in your head. This trip was going to be long, and the crew insisted you join them. You couldn't stay here with Mihawk any longer.

"We'll see each other before we know it." The man's voice reverberated through your chest. The lull of his syllables always seemed to hug your ear drum, especially when he was telling you how beautiful you were. Right now it was like a stab in the heart.

One thing you had always saved; your first kiss with him. You wanted to know it meant something. You wanted to know you meant something to him. Mihawk was pretty selective with his affections, so to be kissed by him was a mark of true care, deep emotion that he held for a handful of special people.

So, when you saw his piercing eyes close, his face begin to drift closer to yours, your heart stopped. You were ready to show him you loved him; was he only doing this because he felt he was obligated?

“Darling-“ he whispered, feeling the aura of disbelief and confusion radiating off of you, “Kiss me.” Tone demanding yet soft, telling you that you were free to do whatever made you most comfortable, but this was what he had on his mind all morning. This erased any doubt in your mind as your body moved of its own accord and closed the space between you.

His lips were like soft honey, yet they had the bitter taste of coffee. His hands were softer than ever before, tentatively pulling you into him. Your breaths mingled as you took a breath and continued, heads turning to deepen the kiss. His hands were lost in your curves, your dips; your own hands were tangled beneath his hat, riffing through his coarse, raven hair. You couldn't get close enough to him, couldn't press your body any further.

Pulling away, his eyes were passionate, swirling with adoration and control. He needed to stop himself before his hands traveled to parts of you only he wanted to see. All these people surely wouldn't enjoy watching you two fuck against a boardwalk post. His lips were still glistening with your saliva as he kissed your forehead and said, "I hope that will suffice until your return. Be safe."

You wished him the same, hoping the time would pass quickly before you could see him again. He was your other half, your lover, your protector; being away from him would be difficult for the both of you, but it was necessary.

For now, you were consumed with the feeling of your beloved's soft lips, the way he held you as if you were going to break, the care and concern he held in his heart for your safety.

Thanks for playing Leaky's bingo! Learn more here.

#mihawk x reader #mihawk x you #x reader #dracule mihawk #one piece fanfiction #dracule mihawk fanfiction #mihawk x reader fluff #fluff #op #mihawk #liv writes #leaky's bingo

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chvoswxtch · 10 months

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Hey there, I was wondering if at some point you could do a one shot of female reader who has PTSD from being trafficked and Frank comforts her during one of her nightmares or flashbacks?

I’m a survivor and just could really use some measure of comfort right now. That maybe there are people who care. That I’m not alone. That things will get better. That maybe one day I can actually have a man who will love me.

Thank you so much.

my darling nonnie,

I just want to say how proud of you I am. I cannot even begin to imagine the horror you went through, and I am so very sorry that happened to you. I am so grateful to know that you made it out and you are safe.

you are absolutely not alone, not here. I can assure you that one day, you will meet someone who will take the time to listen to your story, and will love you through it, and do everything they can to make you feel protected. you are worthy of love and happiness, and nothing that was ever done to you was ever your fault.

I want to apologize for taking so long to get this to you, but I hope it provides the solace that you need. I want to thank you for trusting me with this, for sharing your story with me, and for giving me the opportunity to gift you with some comfort. I hope this makes you feel supported, and I hope it makes you smile. I am sending you every ounce of love I possibly can. ❤️

warning: light swearing, angst, mentions of ptsd word count: 1.7k

right here.

The faintest disturbance to your otherwise peaceful slumber instantly made Frank’s eyes flutter open. He had always been a bit of a light sleeper, and during his time in the marines, he had to be ready to wake up at a moment’s notice and prepared to jump into action if need be. This made it particularly hard for him to be able to sleep in, even when he really wanted to, but it did grant him the ability to rescue you from the lingering monsters that came after you in your dreams.

Opening up to Frank about your traumatic past had been a task that terrified you, and you had put it off as long as you possibly could. It was difficult to talk about in general. You didn’t enjoy having to relive that nightmare all over again, but sometimes beneath the depths of sleep, your mind didn’t give you a choice. The first time you had a nightmare in Frank’s presence, it was terrible.

You had been thrashing around in your unconscious state, warm salty tears staining your cheeks, and the feeling of strong hands holding your body down only sent your subconscious into a further state of panic, crying out for anyone to help. It was several minutes before Frank’s deep voice broke through your psyche, and your eyes suddenly snapped open to meet his horrified ones. Frank was straddling your hips, his large hands wrapped firmly but gently around your wrists, and he had them pinned against his own chest. You could feel the warmth radiating from his skin through your fingertips, and his heartbeat pounding wildly in his chest. His face was twisted up in a concoction of pure concern and unmistakable fear, and that caused an onslaught of overwhelming emotions to crash into you like a merciless tide against an unsuspecting shore.

Fear. Guilt. Shame. Panic. Insecurity.

It all washed down your cheeks in wave after wave, and apologies spewed from your lips like glimmering sea foam. Frank didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what you needed from him at that moment, but he did his best to navigate you away from the storm in your own head to the safety of his serene embrace.

He had swiftly pulled you up into his arms so that he could hold you in his lap, cradling the back of your head in his large palm against his chest, pressing his lips to your forehead in a permanent kiss. His arms were wrapped tightly enough around you that you knew he wasn’t going anywhere, but not so much that you felt suffocated. Frank rocked you gently in his arms, alternating between shushing you quietly and whispering sweet nothings into your ear to calm you.

You couldn’t let go of him. Somewhere along the way, you had gone from being terrified of someone to touch you to needing Frank’s touch more than the oxygen in your own lungs. Even despite knowing about Frank’s past and what he had done, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. It was extremely hard for you to trust anyone like that after what had happened to you, but you trusted him. You knew his intentions were always pure. Frank was always gentle with you. He never pushed you to talk if you didn’t want to. He respected all of your boundaries, even the ones you didn’t voice, but he could see. When it came to intimacy, he followed your lead and always made sure you were comfortable before he did anything.

But it wasn’t until that moment that you realized how safe you were with him.

That moment of clarity was a huge breakthrough for you, because you finally realized that you had someone that would love you through anything, and would go above and beyond to protect you.

That what had happened to you would never happen again.

Once you had finally calmed down enough to speak, you told Frank the truth about your traumatic past. Frank listened intently and without judgment, and held your hand the entire time, crafting the safe space you needed to get that weight off your chest. You could see the crestfallen shine coating his waterline as you spoke, and feel his rage for those who had hurt you in the way he tightened his hold on you.

Everything seemed to click into place for him. He’d had his suspicions that there was something you weren’t telling him. You were just as hypervigilant in public as he was. Shades of discomfort and anxiety coated your face whenever people moved into your space too suddenly, especially men. You had been weary of him when he first met you, and took awhile to warm up to him, but he had just assumed you found him physically intimidating, or that you knew the truth about his past before he’d had a chance to explain himself. Intimacy was a slow process in your relationship, not that he really minded, and he had picked up on your sensitivity to being touched.

Frank knew the signs of PTSD. He had seen it in several of his friends during his time in the marines. He saw it every time he looked in the mirror. And he saw it in you.

Your confession only made your relationship stronger with Frank. It helped him understand you on a more intimate level, and helped him figure out what you needed from him when things got bad, or when the shadows of your past came to plague your dreams.

Like they were doing right now.

Frank turned over from his position on his stomach to mold himself against your back, reaching over your hips to grasp one of your hands, lacing his fingers through your own as he brushed his lips against your ear. The little distressed whimpers he heard coming from you broke his heart, and he hoped that he could pull you from the horror film playing in your head before the climax.

“Wake up, sweetheart. C’mon, wake up for me.”

He lightly brushed his thumb along your lower stomach soothingly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, caressing your jaw with featherlight kisses from his plump lips.

“Listen to my voice. Come back to me, baby. C’mon, m’right here.”

He listened intently for the sound of your breathing to become shallow, and a rush of relief flooded his senses when he felt you start to grip his hand for reassurance.

“There ya go, attagirl. Come to me, baby.”

Frank could faintly see the reflection of the moonlight twinkling in your eyes as they shot open. The shuddering inhale that cut through the silence made his heart ache, but he fought through his own emotions to focus on you.

“Frank?”

The smallness of your voice coming out in shattered fragments hurt him more than any wound he’d ever had. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, pressing his lips to your neck in a tender kiss as he whispered delicately into your ear.

“M’here, sweetheart. Right here.”

For a moment he just held you, his thumb tracing invisible shapes against your skin, giving you a moment of space to figure out what you needed in that moment. Sometimes you knew that answer, and sometimes you needed him to find it.

“Need somethin’, honey?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“S’alright. This one wasn’t so bad, yeah? S’gettin’ better?”

The sound of your deep exhale was loud in his ears. He felt the stiffness of fright slowly melt away from your bones as you relaxed into his embrace, and Frank knew he had you back.

“Yeah.”

For a moment it was silent, nothing but the echo of your confirmation and the summertime breeze rustling through the trees lingering in the air.

“Thank you.”

“Never gotta thank me, sweetheart. I wanna help.”

“You do, a lot. Sometimes I feel like…like I ask too much of-”

“Hey, don’t start that.”

Frank heard your soft sigh of protest, and he held you against him that much tighter in his own silent response.

“I don’t think I can go back to sleep.”

There was a twinge of guilt resonating in your soft confession. Frank glanced behind him to look at the clock on the nightstand, the lime green digital numbers reading three seventeen in the morning.

“You hungry?”

“What?”

The tone of your voice was a mixture of perplexity and amusement, but he was just glad you sounded like you again.

“Lemme take ya to breakfast, c’mon.”

“Frank, it’s like-what, two in the morning?”

“Three actually.”

Frank was halfway out of bed, prepared to drag you with him, when you gripped onto his hand and your melodic laughter filled the room. God, he had missed that sound.

“Where are we going for breakfast at three in the morning?”

“That diner down the street ya like. They’re open twenty four hours, and they’re one of the only goddamn places in this city knows how to make fuckin’ hash browns right.”

The more Frank talked, the louder your infectious laughter got, and he found himself grinning from ear to ear with pride.

“What are you talking about? What is the right way to make hash browns?”

The incredulity was clear in your tone, even though you were laughing so hard you could hardly speak.

“Gotta cover ‘em and smother ‘em. Onions, cheese, ketchup, maybe a lil hot sauce. There’s a right way and a wrong way, alright? The fact you don’t know there’s a wrong way means you ain’t ever had ‘em right, and what kinda man would I be if I didn’t fix that, huh?”

Frank didn’t wait for your reply. He lifted you up by your waist and gently folded you over his shoulder, his arm wrapped securely around the back of your thighs as his free hand came down against your ass in a light smack while he grinned widely.

“Now c’mon, baby. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042

#frank castle #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle request #frank castle fic #the punisher #the punisher request #the punisher fic

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snarkythewoecrow · 10 days

Text

out of order (migraine in progress) (8563 words) by snarkymuch

Word Count: 8,563

Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV)

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard

Summary:

The material of Tommy’s t-shirt was soft—seemingly well-loved—under his fingers, as he trailed them down from his ribs, the man silent as he did, until they came to rest low on his belly, not far from the hem of his shirt.

And as the pain and emotion crashed over him, threatening to sweep him away, he curled his trembling hands into claws—twisting them into the fabric—the sense of safety and comfort radiating off the man already going to work on his raw nerves.

And that little taste of comfort? Not enough.

So not bothering to ask—knowing he was welcome—he moved, nearly crumpling as he stepped into the man’s space fully, sagging in his arms.

He had no doubt—Tommy wouldn’t let him fall.

--or--

The journey of Bi-Buck and his Gay Yoda of a boyfriend as they maneuver through Buck's reluctance to ask for help--even when he's having the kind of day that leaves you laying on the floor with a migraine.

Thankfully, help arrives in the form of his hot hunk of man meat carrying two bags from CVS as he looks down at Buck, who's squinting at him from the floor, before saying, "Evan—sweetheart—no, baby. No. This is definitely not okay."

READ AO3

Tagging a few who showed interest: @underwaterninja13 @flowersonmymind1016 @threezoz @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @kittyneedsbetterhobbies @laundryandtaxesworld @aristotelescorcega @stranger-poets-society

#buck x tommy #kinkley #bucktommy #evan buck buckely #tommy kinard #911 abc #snark writes #🐦‍⬛

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starshipsofstarlord · 11 months

Text

Rekindled Dawn

Nothing more than a relaxed morning with your fiancé Peter Hale - 0.8k

Warnings - extreme fluff, brief mention of The Hale fire, engagement

main masterlist peter hale masterlist more teen wolf

There was something so tranquil about watching you be peaceful in your slumber, the once alpha felt content whilst he laid in the large bed tightly beside you. Your legs were entangled with his own, the heat his body radiated keeping you warm beneath the egyptian cotton of which laid over you from below your toes to the top of your relaxed shoulder.

This was it; all he had ever wanted. Peter Hale was finally in control of his own life, and not by rash and violent means, but rather instead the best things in his life were conducted by his own happiness.

You knew all that the man had done in his past, and unlike others it hadn’t scared you away, you were still very much by his side, with your head resting upon his broad and bare chest, at peace whilst you slept. He had asked you to marry him, a few nights prior, and the large diamond on your engagement finger reminded him of your answer.

He was internally shocked that you had agreed to be his fiancé, although he hadn’t let it show as his troublesome reaction would no doubt ruin his usual cocky and arrogant demeanour. But he was far more than glad, he was ecstatic and over the full moon when it came to the bouts that he saw in his future with you.

It was difficult even with his smooth and enhanced abilities to not awaken you whence he slipped out from the bed, though he felt relief when he saw your eyes were still closed and he heard your heart beat remaining steady as you experienced an otherworldly reality that you viewed from beneath your tightly shut lids.

Peter adjourned his path to the small yet homely kitchen in the apartment that he had long ago convinced you to move into with him, grasping a pan to place upon the top of the oven before he made way to the fridge and grasped multiple items that you both could devour together when he was done cooking.

It was one thing of many that people did not know of Peter, he loved cooking, especially for you. It was the only time he felt comfortable sparking a fire within his own home, after having lost most of his family in the infamous Hale fire. But this, it was harmless and thoughtful and therapeutic knowing that it was one way of many that he wished to take care of you.

He fired up the ingredients in the pan, slicking it with a spat of olive oil to temper up the marination of store bought products, humming softly to himself as he became lost in the task at hand. All of his attention was focused on brewing a breakfast that was fit for his queen, that was until his ears attuned to the gentle rustle of sheets.

Then there was soft foot falls from the bed to the hall, until they finally landed behind him, a soothing palm running down the back of his shirt, warming a smile onto his face. “Good morning my beautiful lady.” He allowed the heat to consume the food on its own as he turned to face you, cradling your gracefully warm face within his rough and work weathered hands.

“Morning to you my big bad wolf.” You joked at him, falling into his chest that was a never ending abyss of safety and comfort. He pressed a fine and firm kiss onto your hairline, inhaling the honey like scent of your shampoo, before collapsing his lips atop of yours, not needing to take a breath as you were all the fresh air that he needed.

“Are you ready for breakfast my Mrs Hale?” He enquired lovingly, pulling back to see the revelling nod you gave to him which made a chuckle burst from deep within his chest. “And you’re already answering to my last name.” He teased you, pulling heat to form in your face from your normal reaction.

“Well it is to be our last name, Mr Hale.” He pressed another kiss upon your plush lips before continuing with preparing the food, turning the strips of protein and fat over to roast on its other side before slipping it from pan to plate. Ghostly steam lightly trailed over the solid meal, before he dragged both you and the tray of coffees and food to the small yet cosy dining table, pulling your seat out for you before he took the opposing seat for himself.

“I love you Y/N Hale.” He spoke before cutting into his bacon with a knife and fork, enjoying every moment of normalcy that he shared with you. If he hadn’t been born with wolfish instincts, then maybe he could have had all of this with you much sooner. But he wouldn’t change a thing.

Everything was perfect as you looked at him without an ounce of hatred in your Y/E/C eyes, there was no fear, no resistance, he lulled his mind in your chemo signals and for once in his life only felt a ray of nothing but love.

#peter hale x reader #peter hale imagine #peter hale x you #Peter hale oneshot #Peter hale fluff #Ian bohen x reader #peter hale x y/n #peter hale imagines #teen wolf fluff #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf one shot #teen wolf x you #teen wolf x y/n #teen wolf x reader

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