#they have so many little moments that build up this feeling of domestic comfortable and whole (looks they share AND HOW CHARLES

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Shut up for me, love, | (part 2)

Part 1 (finding out you're pregnant w/Megumi)

Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader

Toji can't help but love you and your baby bump!

Word Count: 1.6k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, Toji has a job, slightly suggestive, lots of pregnancy (mentions symptoms)

A/n: This has generated so many pregnancy fic ideas...

Your husband, Toji, had been a great help through the first trimester of your pregnancy. He was always giving you massages, bringing you water and snacks, and spending lots of quality time with you, among other things, and you were very grateful for it all. 

Many changes were going on throughout your pregnancy, as to be expected now in your second trimester. While the morning sickness was now gone, there was a number of new troubles you could note. Most importantly, the bump. 

For the most part it was a blessing, even when it caused a number of effects, such as walking differently and feeling a rather strange weight on your hips, something you hadn’t dealt with beforehand. It was proof of a growing baby, and both you and Toji couldn’t be more happy about it. Instead, the effects it had on your husband were the real concerns. 

When you were starting to show, your husband couldn’t stop taking pictures of you. It was quite out of the ordinary for Toji, who rarely ever customized anything on his phone or computer, when he finally took it upon himself to learn such things, pasting your image everywhere he could. His new favorite pastime during breaks at work was scrolling through his pictures of you (some of which were taken in the last 5 hours), saving them in a special folder and smiling to himself. 

Your pregnancy in general made him clingy. Along with the pictures, he cut his hours at work and stayed home to assist you, which was appreciated but put a hindrance in your housework. Toji would stand around watching you do everything from unloading the dishwasher to changing the sheets on the bed, leaning against the wall as he tried to lock eyes much to your dismay. 

Fully confident in your ability to do such things, he still found himself keeping a much closer eye on you, only comforted when he was in the same house and could hear, if not see, you. Toji had already began to realize this himself, that it wasn’t an increase in safety concern that caused his behavior. While he always wanted to have eyes on you, to make sure you were out of harm’s way regardless of your pregnancy, there was something he missed so much when he was away from you. 

Watching you cover your swollen tummy with a nightgown, one he picked out specially for you on a shopping trip. It sinched in high, right above the bump that was evident and growing larger each day. Seeing the light apprehension you had when bending down to pick things up, and hearing the compliments your friends gave you whenever they saw you, asking how the baby was coming along. Little things were a constant, and appreciated reminder for him that the two of you were building your family together. Something he loved more than anything. 

Because of this, your husband stopped doing his regular outings all together. Usually he would go out to watch sports and drink with his friends at least once a week or so. Him being gone gave you more time without him interrupting your chores, and he was careful with you in mind. But this new Toji, that was a soon-to-be father, figured he could just watch the game on the TV and didn’t need to go out anymore despite your protests.

“It would save us money, we should be saving up for the nursery,” Toji argued, sitting down on the couch. “I know, honey, but…,” you tried to explain to him, just how annoying he had been. Staring at you all the time, offering you a hand for every minuscule task the moment you had any difficulty with it. Reaching up ahead of you to the top cabinet and grabbing the bowl you were trying to get, when there was a stepping stool right next to you. 

It made you embarrassed, really. His eyes always so sharp, the way he looked at you every time you mistakenly fell into his trap, breaking your three minute personal best at ignoring him properly. Your cheeks heated up each time, scoffing a little as you turned back to the dirty dishes in the sink. It was truly bothersome (in some ways more than others). 

And so, it led to his great discovery of at-home sports streaming. Toji was sprawled out on the loveseat everyday, after he got home from work. Carefully using up his extra home hours, after you persistently told him to give you some space. 

While Toji enjoyed his free time, you, on the other hand, were doing laundry. The warmth of a fresh dry load, coupled with the absence of breathing down your neck, allowed you to relax for a brief moment. You piled all the clothes into a large basket, making your way down the hallway to the living room, where you usually folded it. 

Except… Toji was there. You turned around, hearing the voice of a dull commentator surely explaining something interesting, though what it was you didn’t know. Your house didn’t have too many rooms, and usually the bedroom or even the laundry room would work just fine for folding… if you could bend down well enough. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, your feet barely touched the floor from how high up it was. Bending down over the bump was impossible to do comfortably, and the task could only be done at all if you leaned down to the side and awkwardly grabbed at the basket below while maintaining your balance. 

After a few more attempts, you figured out that there wasn’t enough room on the floor and sitting like that wasn’t very comfortable for long periods of time either. You were reminded why the living room had been your favorite for doing this task, the couch was low enough and comfortable to sit on, with space for folded clothes on the side. 

Holding the basket with two hands, you stood in the hallway watching around the corner to observe your husband’s movements. Toji was lounging comfortably, with one arm laid across the top of the couch. His legs were spread wide, covering most of the seating area. If the game was almost over, there would be no reason to ask him to move… or so you thought. 

The two of you were in reverse positions, your eyes almost trying to lock with his as you admired them from afar, your original mission forgotten as he stared intently at the screen and rubbed the tiredness from his face. Now unlike you, he found your gaze to be rather relaxing, enjoying it before you would inevitably make your move. His chuckle didn’t come from the commercial on the screen, but from you, who was still standing there after 10 minutes, greatly struggling to hold the basket which was feeling extremely heavy. 

Setting it down would make a noise, so you finally decided to give up on finding some kind of good time to interject. “Is the game almost over?” You asked meekly, setting the basket down in the middle of the floor. “10 minutes, about,” he replied, still staring at the screen. You huffed under your breath, unsure of what to say. To that, Toji smirked to himself. He knew exactly what you wanted, and was very much prepared to give it to you… but why not have some fun with it?

“Need a little help?” He asked while you walked a bit closer in curiosity. “My wife doesn’t know what she wants, it’s my duty to give her some guidance…” he finally tilted his head towards you, though he had been ignoring the screen since you arrived. “C’mere… lil’ closer…” he motioned at you, as you looked at him confused. 

It only took him a second to stand up and move behind you, throwing his arms underneath your legs and back, carrying you to the couch with him. He settled you down between his legs, his body back how it was before like nothing had even happened. 

“It’s more comfortable with that bump, hmm?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I still have to have room to do the laundry, Toji…” he chuckled, moving his legs closer together so you could feel them squishing your thighs. “That better?” you turned your head to blushing smile on your face. 

Toji grabbed the remote while you dragged the basket closer with your foot, still trapped between him. “But there’s only 10 minutes,” you watched as he changed the channel to a show you liked. “I’m gonna lose anyway, what does it matter,” he muttered. “I thought you said you stopped doing that!” you scoffed, looking back at your husband who rolled his eyes. “It’s five bucks, a work thing people are doing,” you shook your head in disapproval. 

As you relaxed into his lap, you got to folding. Part of the enjoyment you felt was due to your husband, softly rubbing your back and occasionally playing with your hair as you got to work. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to kiss me,” you frowned facing the TV, though Toji could still sense your disappointment. “That’s your reward for getting this done - I’m gettin’ pretty hungry…” he continued his massage, but wrapped his arms around your waist to hold your belly. You would make dinner after you finished.

“It feels good Toji, thank you,” you sunk back enjoying the feeling. “You deserve it, you’re doin’ so good, my wife,” a blush crept onto your face again from his words. “Was gonna ask you for a date night sometime anyway,” he mentioned, “and there’s no time like the present.” Toji gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. “So just stay nice… and… still…” he smirked. “Once you’re done, we have the whole night ahead of us.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jjk toji #toji fushiguro x reader #toji zenin x reader #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x you #jujutsu kaisen toji #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader

[awearywritersworld]

stay as long as you need

fushiguro toji x reader summary: toji can't stop hanging around his new neighbor, even though she has a boyfriend. oh well, he knows he's better for her anyway. w/c: 1.2k tags/warnings: hurt/comfort. angst to fluff. domestic violence perpetrated by reader's boyfriend, but nothing terribly graphic; the incident is discussed after the fact, not depicted. implied age gap. protective!toji. toji actually being nice. cliche "who did this to you" moment. fem!reader a/n: WHY IS HE SO HOT??????? I JUST WANT HIM TO TAKE CARE OF MEEEEEEEEE (OR CRUSH ME WITH HIS THIGHS, IM NOT PICKY) on a less unhinged note, thanks for reading!! masterlist

"need some help?"

you nearly jump upon hearing the words, having been lost in your own little world. when you turn around, you're met with a dark haired, well built man and just the sight of him makes your cheeks feel hot.

"oh, i- um," you glance between him and the heavy box in your hands.

he's already taking it from you though, effortlessly balancing it in one hand before opening the door for you with the other.

"thanks," you squeak out, stepping inside your new apartment building.

he smirks down at you, eyes raking over your body. toji isn't exactly the good samaritan type, but for a pretty little thing like you, he can certainly make an exception.

the elevator button lights up when he presses it. "just moving in?"

"yup! third floor. getting everything up there has been quite the ordeal, so i appreciate your help," you explain sweetly.

when the metal doors slide open, he lets you step inside first.

"hm, all by yourself? no boyfriend in the picture?" well, the sorcerer killer has never been one for subtly.

"yeah, actually," you return sheepishly. "he's just out with his friends at the moment."

"that so?" you don't see the look of judgement that crosses his face, though it isn't at all directed toward you.

once you emerge on your floor, toji follows along just a step behind you. he can't help his amusement when you stop at your door. "would you look at that. i guess we're neighbors now."

his head nods toward his own apartment, just two doors down from yours. "oh good! i'm glad this wasn't too far out of your way."

"don't worry about it, wouldn't have been any trouble either way."

you offer him a bashful smile before your door clicks open, revealing quite a few boxes just inside. "you can just put that anywhere, don't mind the mess.. i'm (y/n), by the way."

"toji." he places it on top of one of the other boxes, honestly impressed that you managed to get so many upstairs by yourself. "can i have your car keys?"

he thinks the look of confusion that crosses your features is just too cute. "what for?"

he chuckles because it should be obvious, but clearly you aren't used to being taken care of. "to get the rest of your boxes, princess."

~~~

the next afternoon, toji answers a knock at his door and finds you on the other side. you've got a plate of fresh cookies in your hand, which you shyly offer to the tall man. "these are for you. thank you so much for all your help yesterday! i couldn't have done it without you."

"thanks, you didn't have to," he tells you, although he's happy you did. when he pulls them from your grasp, his hands brush yours. he invites you in, insisting he can't enjoy them alone, but really he just wants to get to know you.

and he does. over the next few weeks, you spend a surprising amount of time in one another's company. whenever he bumps into you in the hall, he'll chat with you for a while, even (or, especially) when he's running late to a job.

one day you mention that a shelf you ordered came disassembled, so he offers to come over and put it together for you. of course you show up at his door the next day with a new plate of cookies.

another morning, toji groans when he discovers that he's out of tea, but quickly realizes it's the perfect excuse to knock on your door. when it swings open, he swallows thickly, taking in your tiny shorts and thin tank top. it was obvious you'd just woken up.

you're no better than he is with the way your eyes trail over his fitted tshirt, then down to the sweatpants that hang loosely around his waist. you're both too preoccupied staring to notice the other doing the same.

"mornin', sleepy beauty," he says with a lopsided grin.

"good morning, toji." you return his smile, your greeting a saccharine melody to his ears. oh, the things he'd do to have you all to himself.

he explains his predicament and you're more than happy to invite him inside. you both sit at your kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea and chatting about your day. the domesticity off it all leaves a pleasant taste in his mouth, which is bizarre seeing as up until a few weeks ago, he'd have found the thought down right repulsive.

but he just can't get you out of his head. you're too sweet for your own good, too young to know what you deserve in a man, and he's more than willing to show you.

he knows you're not available, but makes no attempt to stifle his growing fondness toward you. after all, he'd only ever seen your boyfriend once.

you were returning from a rare afternoon out just as he was leaving to pick up something for lunch. you looked so good in your cute little dress that he hardly even noticed your boyfriend at first.

"hey, (y/n)," toji greeted you. "who's this?"

he didn't give you a chance to speak, just pulled you into his side. "her boyfriend."

"ah," he leered, his nose crinkled. "i wasn't sure since i never see you around."

your eyes flickered between the two men somewhat nervously. toji towered over your boyfriend, a feat he took great satisfaction in.

a humorless laugh came from your left. "prefer to have her over at my place."

toji didn't respond right away, just looked down at you, taking note of your quietness. he briefly recalled the time you mentioned how much it bothered you that your boyfriend never came to visit, that you always had to make the effort.

"right.. well, you're a lucky man." he looked much more smug by then, his head falling to the side. "your girl has the best cookies around."

toji moves past both of you without waiting for a reply, roughly clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder. "see you around, (y/n)."

~~~

nearly two weeks later, toji's leaving his apartment late in the evening, as his current job can really only be taken care of during the nighttime hours. he doesn't expect to see many people in the halls, so he's surprised to find you at your apartment door.

the hood of your sweatshirt is pulled over your head, obscuring your face from his view. "(y/n)?"

you don't respond, so he takes a step toward you. it's only then he notices the way your hands are trembling, struggling with the lock. he reaches out, but when his fingers brush your arm, you jump back as if you'd been completely oblivious to his presence.

"hey-" he begins to say, but stops once he sees your face. his eyes darken and his jaw tenses, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as a result.

your cheekbone is bright red, a small cut stretching across the center of the mark. your eyes watch him, wide and fearful, and you're all but frozen in place.

"who did this to you?"

he's struggling to keep his composure, the sight of your bruised face enough to have his heart hammering away angrily in his chest. you look away, tears forming in your eyes, and you can't bring yourself to respond.

"was it him?" he presses.

you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to keep from crying. "i-it's okay, though. he didn't mean it, really, and-"

"look me in the face and try that again."

you meet his gaze, somewhat unwillingly, and whimper. "i.. i can't."

he sighs quietly, his job already forgotten for the night, and moves toward you. he remembers how you flinched away from him just moments ago. "..can i touch you?"

you nod once more and he hesitantly pulls you against his chest. it's getting harder and harder to keep your emotions in check, especially with the slow circles his hand is drawing on your back.

"i was so scared, toji," you finally admit, voice barely above a whisper.

"i know, but you're safe now. won't let 'im touch you ever again," he promises, fully intent on keeping it.

his words push you over the edge and you grab at his shirt as you begin to weep, your knees buckling beneath you. he supports your weight, rocking you back and forth. "you're okay. it's going to be okay."

after a minute or two, he finally hears you take a shaky breath and relief fills his chest at the sound. "see? just like that, baby. in and out."

you do as he says and after a few more breaths, he pulls away from you and takes your hand. "c'mon. let's get you cleaned up."

leading you into his apartment, he goes straight to the bathroom. you gasp when he grabs you by the hips and hoists you up onto the counter before searching for his first aid kit. when he pulls it down from the cabinet, he moves to stand between your legs.

grabbing you by the chin, he tilts your head to get a better look your injury. the redness is already transitioning to a darker hue and he knows it'll look even worse tomorrow.

"gonna clean the cut, okay? it might sting."

"okay," you sniffle.

he rips open an alcohol wipe, dabbing it gently against your cheekbone. when you wince in pain, he offers a quiet apology, but he's finished before long, having applied a bit of ointment as well.

"thank you," you murmur.

both of his hands find your thighs, resting on the area just above your knees. "don't thank me. not for this."

there's an edge to his voice, but you know it's not directed toward you. your hands settle on top of his own, quelling his anger for the time being.

"you know," he grunts, his gaze lingering on your cheek before it shifts toward your eyes. "i could never lay a hand on you."

his expression is much softer now than it was in the hallway and he savors the small smile that tugs at your lips. "i know, toji."

as he looks down at you, he knows he's done for. hell, he's known it for a while now. you deserve to be adored. taken care of. made to feel good... and toji is more than confident in his ability to do so.

for a fleeting moment, he considers the fact it wouldn't be hard to find out where your boyfriend lives, to make sure he never raises a hand to you again, but your gentle voice pulls him from his thoughts.

"can i stay with you tonight?" you ask meekly.

"yeah, 'course.. you can stay as long as you need."

jjk taglist: @torusmochi

#m!writes #toji #toji x reader #toji imagines #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines

[i520u]

invisible string ʚĭɞೃ⟡

HIII i’m so sorry this took me so long i just didn’t wanna be unemployed after i’m done with my series so i decided to keep this in the drafts for a while 😞 i hope you’ll like this!

PAIRING sung hanbin x gn!reader

GENRE fluff, sfw

MASTERLIST

hanbin is a responsible bf, so you can definitely let loose when you’re around him!

he will always makes you feel safe

when you go out on dates with him, he would always silently take your handbag off of your shoulder and carry them himself 😞

his nicknames for you are usually the common ones, baby, my baby, angel, and i think he’d most commonly use 내 사랑 (nae sarang/my love) because it’s so endearing to give your s/o a nickname in your own mother tongue am i right

but he prefers calling you by your name, bc he thinks your name is already pretty

constantly complimenting you

you get your work done and he’s like “good job baby” and then he’d kiss your cheek

you finish mopping the floors and he’s like “you worked so hard today my love, thank you”

the type of boyfriend that will give you legitimate answers to your “would you still love me if i was a worm?” questions

one time you asked him what he would do if you turned into a snail one day

and he told you he’d have to build you nice house where you would be comfortable living in

drives your around ALL the time

he would freak out if you offered him gas money because he really doesn’t mind spending his time, energy, and money with you :(

if you gave him a $10 cash he would applepay you $15

i think hanbin is a great cook, so eating out is very rare for you both because he’s always cooking up a meal for the both of you

if you don’t like a certain taste (sour, salty, sweet, etc) he’d make sure to alter the recipe a little so you’d both be able to enjoy the meal together

hanbin would be cutting up some vegetables, and then you’d come up to him and ask for a kiss, and he would gladly give you a quick kiss before resuming with the meal prep

conflicts with him rarely ever happens

he’s so good at communicating, and he’s just so gentle there’s really nothing to be mad about with him

he trusts you, and he feels secure in the relationship so he never really asks you about your whereabouts. you’re free to hangout with anyone!

all of your friends loves hanbin. he treats you so well, and he’s so polite and can mix around with them, so he’s practically in your friend group too

when you DO get into fights with hanbin, the fight never lasts longer than 2 days. he either apologises first if he realised that he’s in the wrong, or he’ll talk to you and explain why he felt like he was wronged

plus, even when the two of you are fighting, he’d still cook you a good dinner, and you’d still help him clean up all the things he used to make the meal 😭

also on nights where you both had heated arguments, if the situation was okay, he would still wrap his arms around you while you sleep

hanbin never go all out for anniversaries though

rather than fancy dinner date or a big gesture to show his love, it’s more domestic and meaningful

hanbin prefers celebrating your anniversaries together with things like giving you a photobook of all the moments that you’ve spent together

of course he’d buy you a gift too, but his main idea of anniversaries are more domestic

one time he rearranged your house and made a candlelight dinner all by himself for your anniversary, candles, silk tablecloth, fancy steak, he did that all by himself

whenever you get sick, he’d feel bad leaving you alone while he goes to work but duty calls!!!

he would make you text him and update him every 3 hours so that he knows you’re eating well and taking your medicines on time

when HE’S sick he tells you not to worry about him and then he would get flustered when he finds out that you cooked him some healthy soupy foods for him to eat

he thinks you’re so cute when you’re worried over him getting a stupid little cold

when he gets better he would give you so many kisses and cooing at how cute you were when you were taking care of him

honestly he’s always kissing you somewhere, or you’re always kissing him somewhere, it doesn’t matter. he loves kisses

when you say something funny he would laugh and then bring your hand to his lips for no reason?? when you ask him why he’s just like “you’re so funny i just had to kiss you”

when you’re showing him the new top you just bought and then he would just pull you in to kiss the top of your head bc why not

when you kiss him first his ears will go red

he would even be like “why’d you do that”

when you say you just wanted to kiss him he’d giggle and would call you adorable

“my partner is so adorable today, i wonder what’s got into them?”

#zb1 #zerobaseone #hanbin #sung hanbin #zb1 hanbin x reader #hanbin x reader #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin imagines #hanbin imagines #zb1 hanbin imagines #zb1 x reader #zerobaseone hanbin #zb1 hanbin #hanbin scenarios #sung hanbin scenarios #zb1 hanbin scenarios

[pathetic-sapphic]

Could you possibly write a fluff alphabet for jinx 😍

Jinx Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Jinx is a very clingy lover which means that she basically sticks to you like a baby koala. She doesn't mind doing anything as long as you're with her, but her favorite things to do with you are definitely vandalizing the city buildings with her art as well as watching movies together (movie night dates are a must).

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She admires your kindness and your pure heart. She admires the way that someone as beautiful and good as you loves someone like her. In her eyes, you are perfect and can do no wrong. You're the only thing worth fighting for in this cruel world.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

At first, she freezes up because you're the one who usually does the comforting so she feels a little lost for a moment. However, she leaps into action as soon as her brain registers your tears and hugs you tightly. She tries her best to remember and repeat the things you tell her whenever she feels down and is so gentle with you. Jinx has all the patience in the world for her beloved and she has no issue showing that. She just wants to be there for you and for that pretty smile to return to your face.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

It's not often that Jinx thinks about the future, at least until you come along. Before you two started dating, she acted in a more risky manner, not really caring about what happens to her. However, when you come into the picture, that changes and she finds herself imagining the domestic life you two could have. She still isn't the type to plan out your future meticulously but there are many things she wishes to experience with you by her side which make it worth staying, if only so you wouldn't be alone.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

More dominant, but that's simply her personality. She is upfront and blunt, and almost always takes the initiative. There are some things where she is hesitant to take the first step due to her lack of experience so she appreciates a partner who will help guide her and show their support. Jinx greatly appreciates a patient partner who is willing to experience new things with her.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

I see her as someone who may pout for a while, but only asks for a kiss in exchange for her forgiveness if the matter isn't serious. If you do something more dire and truly hurt her, then she is tough to forgive. She will most likely keep her distance and avoid you, so you'll need to chase her for a bit before making her listen to your explanation and apology. If she deems it enough, her angry facade slowly melts away but she will still be weary for a while.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Very grateful, when she notices. Sometimes Jinx doesn't think about why things turn out the way they do and she won't take note of the ways in which you help her out. However once she does, she is a very grateful and appreciative lover. She loves rewarding you and making you little gifts in return. She just has so much love to give.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Jinx tends to hide important things and overshare the not so important ones. She may hide from you the lengths she went in order to achieve something. For example, you don't have to know what awful things she did to the man who catcalled you last week but it's important that you're aware of how many times she had to pee yesterday. Has no shame whatsoever.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Yes and yes. Before meeting you, she thought herself to be incapable of change, a hopeless sort of person. But you managed to somehow worm your way into her heart and make her work on her issues. Thanks to you, she sleeps more and eats regularly and she also takes better care of herself. Hates seeing the sad look you wear whenever she gets hurt so she tries to be more careful. You also made her calmer, always being there for her during her episodes and helping her whenever she has anger outbursts. You'll change too, as she'll push you out of your comfort zone and make sure you experience life to the best of your abilities.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh yeah, Jinx is a very jealous and possessive lover. Not to mention that she doesn't deal with it well. If it was up to her, she'd gladly put a bullet into the head of anyone who dares even look at you or touch you. This all comes from a place of insecurity and the inability to deal with her negative feelings well. You'll have to help reassure her and comfort her, convince her that you'd never leave her and teach her how to trust you more.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

It depends on the kinds of kisses you like but hers are possessive, passionate and fierce. Your first kiss with Jinx was mostly likely very clumsy and awkward, both of you giggling as your teeth clashed awkwardly. She pours her heart and soul into each kiss, wanting you to feel the full force of her love towards you. Often presses kisses all over your face, especially when she has a stronger lipstick on. After all, she needs to mark her territory properly.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

She'd probably blurt it out accidentally or surprise you with a huge graffiti saying: '(Y/n), will you be mine?' with the answering options being 'Yes' or 'Hell yes', because she's sweet like that. Jumps into the air like a kid on Christmas morning once you return her affections and swoops you into a hug that punches all the breath out of you. You can't complain though, especially when you see the pure joy and love on her face.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Jinx doesn't think that marriage is necessary because why would you need a stupid piece of paper to prove her love for you? However, she would agree if she noticed you wanting it badly and she cannot deny that the sound of a ceremony and a party dedicated to your love sounds pretty nice. She also really wants to see you in wedding attire.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

Trinket, cutie, sweetie, babe, hot stuff, pookie (unironically), baby and toots.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Oh, she is very obvious and open with her feelings. Wants everyone to know you're hers and hers only. As soon as she notices someone talking to you, she is glued to your side, pressing constant kisses to your cheek and holding your hand in hers. Ready to shout her love for you from the rooftop at any given moment.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Extremely upfront and has no concept of PDA. Basically lives on your lap and glares at anyone who might even think about making a move on you. Constantly brags about how sweet and pretty and perfect you are, even if you aren't there. Wants everyone to know that she bagged you and how happy she is to be in a relationship in you.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Jinx makes amazing and thoughtful gifts for you. She is very affectionate and attentive to your likes and dislikes. Often tinkers on various projects which end up being little tokens of appreciation for you. She'll make anything, from decorations to more practical stuff such as jewelry.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Extremely romantic and gets very creative with it! Jinx is fond of big acts of affection and nothing is too big or hard to do when it comes to the love of her life. More than willing to try and reach for the stars if that would make you happy. Constantly takes you out on dates and surprises you with thoughtful gestures.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She is your number one supporter but at the same time hates seeing you so stressed or serious. Also often proves herself to be a bit of a distraction but backs off once you explain how important it is for you to focus. You'll always have her full support and she truly believes that you're the smartest and most capable person in the world.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Yes, Jinx loves experimenting and trying out new things with you. She has little to no relationship experience so she adores learning new stuff with you by her side.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Knows you better than anyone but can come off as cold sometimes. Jinx struggles a lot with showing vulnerability and this can make it hard for her to comfort you. Also acts dismissive at times but quickly switches up if she sees that she truly hurt you.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

You are worth everything to Jinx and she is ready to set the world on fire in order to keep you warm.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Her favorite sleeping position is with her body draped over yours and her head laying on your chest. Your heartbeat helps keep her calm and keeps the nightmares at bay.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Extremely affectionate! Jinx is incredibly touch starved and clingy, needs to have some sort of physical contact with you at all times. She is big on cuddling and sneaks in kisses whenever she can!

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Badly, she tends to work on her projects in order to distract herself. This leads to her falling back into her old habits of neglecting her health. She just cannot function properly without you by her side because she got so used to your presence being there at all times.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

As I mentioned before, Jinx is willing to sacrifice everything for someone she truly loves. However, to get to that requires a lot of time and trust. But once you get there you'll realize that she is an extremely giving and protective partner.

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane headcanons #jinx x reader #jinx x you #jinx alphabet #jinx fluff #jinx x reader fluff

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Domestic Dream part 1: Unlikely Bonds

Bayverse!Raphael x reader

Part 2

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

Let’s be real, most of us would want our parents to meet our S/O, even if they were a mutant turtle. So, here you go! Your mutant bf, Raphael, meeting your parents! In this version they are divorced.

Warnings: Spelling like always.

—-------------------------------------------

The bustling streets of New York City at night provided a chaotic backdrop as Raphael found himself nervously standing at the entrance of your apartment building. Well, he was actually on your fire escape to be specific, playing with his hands and calming his breaths. He had faced countless adversaries in the shadows, putting his life at risk for the sake of his brothers and the people of New York. At times the people of the whole world! But meeting your parents felt like an entirely different battle that frightened Raphael in many ways.

You, Raphael’s girlfriend, had insisted that it was time for Raphael to meet your family. Your parents, though divorced, still maintained a certain level of influence in your life, making it important for you that they meet. And Raph understood. Really, he did. He had the same feeling when you meet Splinter and his brothers. But right now Raph was scared. He really wanted to meet your family, but at the same time he was terrified. Most humans would be scared to meet the parents of their significant other, but to a mutant turtle it was different. It was a life he could only have dreamed of, and yet, that dream could be crushed so easily the moment your parents would lay their eyes on him.

From the fire escape Raph could hear your mother questioning you, asking why they would have to meet him so late, and why it was taking him so long. You had answered something along the lines of it being because of his job, and that he would be there any moment.

Raph took one last calming breath before knocking on the window. It took less than a second for the curtains to be pulled back, and your big smile to appear in front of him. As happy as it made Raphael to see you smile, he could only imagine what your parents thought of the sight.

As you opened that window, and let Raphael into your apartment, revealing the contrasting atmospheres of your mother's meticulous and orderly domain and your father's more laid-back, easygoing space, Raphael couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water.

The look on their faces was easy to read. This was not what they had expected, at all. Your father sat with eyes wide on the couch, your mother almost dropped her tea cup, while your little brother stared awestruck. Raph could feel his hands get clammy, even more so when you took his hand, and pulled him further towards your family.

“Mom, dad, this is Raphael. My boyfriend”, you said, tightening your grip on his hand. As much as Raph loved hearing those words come out of your mouth, he could not miss the look in your mother’s face. She did not like those words.

Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, eyed Raphael with a critical gaze. "So, this is the… man… who has captured my daughter's heart?"

Raphael, though typically brash, found himself at a loss for words. He nodded awkwardly, stepping closer to you for comfort, "Uh, yeah… that's me".

Your father, on the other hand, leaned back with a casual grin, sizing up the unexpected guest, a smile appearing on his face. "Well, well. You certainly know how to make an entrance."

The initial atmosphere was tense, to say the least. Raphael shifted uncomfortably under their scrutiny. However, a small figure emerged down in front of him, breaking the tension.

"Is that the Hulk?!" Your little brother, a wide-eyed bundle of energy, exclaimed, rushing forward with unabashed enthusiasm, poking to Raph to see if his muscles were real. "That's so cool!"

Raphael, caught off guard by the sudden change in tone, couldn't help but crack a smile. "Yeah, kid, I guess so. But I’m actually a turtle"

As your little brother bombarded Raphael with questions about the Turtles' adventures, a subtle shift occurred. Your parents - especially your mother’s - initially skeptical, began to see a different side of the usually stoic and tough Raphael - the side that made you fall for him.

Over dinners and movie nights at your place, Raphael shared tales of the Turtles' battles and the challenges they faced. Your mother, once reserved, began to appreciate the depth of Raphael's loyalty and commitment to his brothers and to you.

Your father, a fan of unconventional stories, found himself genuinely interested in the tales of a city saved by four mutant turtles. At one time you overheard your father and Raphael talk about the time they faced the Shredder, only for your father to yell in excitement: “You know the Falcon!?” Slowly but surely, the initial skepticism waned, replaced by an acceptance that this unusual, green-skinned figure was an integral part of your life.

As weeks turned into months, Raphael became a fixture in your family gatherings. Your little brother, once enamored by the novelty, now regarded Raphael as a big brother figure, seeking his advice on everything from school projects to ninja moves. Raph had to go into another room and hug you in silence, the day your brother told him he wanted to do a project on ninja history.

One evening, as you all sat around the dinner table in your apartment, your parents exchanged a knowing glance. Your mother spoke first, "Raphael, I must admit, I misjudged you initially. You've proven to be a strong protector and a source of stability for (Y/N)."

Your father chimed in, "And you're not half as bad as I thought you'd be."

Raphael, a bit taken aback, nodded appreciatively. "Thanks, I guess. I never thought I'd be sitting at a dinner table like this. It means a lot to me".

Your little brother grinned, "Well, you're officially part of the family now, Raph!"

And in that moment, as laughter filled the room, it became clear that sometimes the most unlikely bonds could be the strongest ones. And that Raphael’s dream of a normal life maybe wasn’t just a dream anymore.

—-------------------------------------------------------

I had to show some love for the big man😭❤️

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtle headcanons #tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt bayverse #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raph x you #tmnt x y/n #tmnt x reader #tmnt x you #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph x reader #tmnt 2014 #bayverse turtles #bayverse tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt donatello #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse x reader #tmnt bayverse fanfic #tmnt bayverse raph #tmnt bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse donnie #tmnt bayverse mikey #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #tmnt leo #tmnt raph #tmnt bayverse x you

[yesimwriting]

Hi, I'm kind of picky of FF in general, smut especially, but your "Pulling away" is just beyond perfect. Do you maybe have time and the enthusiasm to write something like that again? Not sure what other characters you'd write for (out of your master list) but another Joel would be great anyway. Thank you for your work!

A/n ahh thank you!! the feedback i've gotten on "Pulling Away" has been unbelievable,, and i very rarely usually write smut without being prompted to lol, i feel like it's too obvious that i'm a virgin who has had very few sexual experiences, even less if you don't count the ones i didn't fully consent to,, but that's neither here nor there, i'm doing better now i promise :)

also ik my masterlist is super limited compared to who i actually write for lol,, updating it is my absolute enemy but i'm working on it 😭

also the build up in this fic is criminal!! that's my bad!

Summary: You, Ellie, and Joel have recently decided to permanently settle in Jackson. The promise of stability seems to lead to boundaries adjusting during a sleepless night after Joel appears in your bedroom.

smut warning, 18 plus !!

----

It's existed in him as undeniably and permanently as the lines etched into the slightly calloused skin of the back of his palm. Control is something that Joel Miller knows, something he clings to the same way he keeps a gun in his hand when he needs to.

Control is what keeps him from reacting when your arm moves too carelessly and your elbow manages to push against his ribs. The side that you know is more yellow-purple than the soft tan it should be. If you weren't lying next to him, you would have assumed that the shift of your arm had no affect on him. But you're pressed closer to him than you've ever been, so you can feel the shift despite his intentions. It's subtle. A pinch in his breathing and a brief wave of tension in his spine.

"Sorry," your blurt out is instinctual, and you're not sure if it might be making things worse. You've never been this close to him and it burns so much you can practically feel it melting the thin ice holding the two of you above water.

Burns in a good way. A way that you've only ever felt through brief flutters that have come up more and more recently. Lingering touches patching up injuries, reassuring squeezes of hands that are always brief and never mentioned, the press of Joel's knee against yours as you sat at that table in Jackson, overwhelmed by the presence of so many strangers.

And now this. You, Joel, and Ellie had been given a place to stay. You used to dream about your own bed. A safe roof over your head and a clean blanket keeping you warm. Finally getting it left you restless. Being away from Joel and Ellie felt unnatural even if they were in the same building as you. There are so many strangers here, and even though they have no reason to strike you down, it's still weird.

You couldn't help the obsessive thoughts. It felt oddly compulsive, the urge to wrap the two of them up in warm blankets and bubble wrap and just watch them be okay. It's weird, but what can you say, Ellie and Joel are your people.

And then Joel wandered in after some talk with his brother. It had surprised you, considering the way he had avoided you earlier, but you'd never complain about having him close.

You're still not sure how it happened. How Joel started asking you about how you were settling and telling you that Ellie was just fine. He had gone in to check up on her and then lingered until she fell asleep. The thought of that domestic moment made your heart swell and you found yourself relaxing.

Somehow Joel ended up taking some of your covers. There's a draft, it's winter. You forced yourself to not focus on that in any other context. Refused to give it any other meaning. And then he moved closer, eventually laid his head on your pillow. You almost convinced yourself it was just a way to be a little comfortable while keeping up conversation. But then the talk eventually faded and you had to move to let him fit and you ended up like this. Safe and fragile.

This stray from what's normal is okay tonight. Everything is still weird, you three like awkward, feral cats compared to the people of Jackson.

"You're fine," he breathes, voice rough with sleep.

His acceptance is easy but it does nothing to make you less aware of your position. You're more on top of him than you need to be and your mind is suddenly scrambling, trying to remember every injury you've ever seen him receive.

Untangling yourself from the gentle cocoon you've created is an ache in your chest, but the thought of hurting him is worse. You move your leg close to the edge of the bed and start the careful process of retracting your arm.

Joel shifts with a slight sigh, his own hand following your own. He snags your wrist, pulling you back into place. "You're fine." Joel repeats his earlier words, so half thought out and mumbled together you think they might even be sleep idled.

"Careful," you try, fighting against the blood rushing to your face. "I don't want to hurt you."

Joel's hand moves down your forearm with a slowness that almost feels deliberate. You have to press your lips together to keep from exhaling too sharply. He turns his head and even in the dark you can feel the focus of his gaze.

He swallows once, lips parting for a moment before he speaks, "Hurts more the other way." It's vulnerable and not, undercut by something that feels so factual you briefly have to think about whether or not that's physically possible. "It's good pressure."

Your eyebrows draw together at the realization that he's not entirely joking. The audacity. He's always referencing his age and the soreness that's going to have to catch him at one point or another but now there's not a single concern for his joints or potential hip damage. You've always had a feeling that at least a part of that rant has to be bullshit, or at least some kind of exaggeration.

You scoff but make no move to pull away as Joel settles. "I don't believe you." Normally you wouldn't state anything so transparently. Any flash of softness is glass and barely tangible. Trying to grasp it by speaking about in the open makes it vanish. Like waking too suddenly from an incomplete dream. But you don't feel at risk, something about the dark and the warmth and his hand on your forearm. "You're so full of shit--what happened to old man knees and arthritis and hip joint iss-"

"You're making up those last two."

There's silence for a brief moment and then laughter. A stupid burst of giggles that has you forgetting the little bit of normal left. Your forehead briefly falls down, your face pressing against his shoulder as you try to keep it down. He laughs with you after a second, a reluctant, almost annoyed display of amusement.

You're still recovering, breathing a little heavier than usual and coming back enough to realize that this level of closeness may be pushing it. You lift your head just as Joel's hand finds a place between your shoulders. First a fist and then his fingers patiently relaxing. You don't think you've ever been this still in your life.

"I can't keep track of all your old man ailments," it's a whisper that's more against his skin than not.

He lets out a breath, "You needed me to help you onto a horse today."

You halfheartedly glare even though you're too pressed into him for him to be able to see you. "I could do it by myself now." Likely a lie, considering it had only taken a second with Joel's help and the concept of casual horse riding still feels foreign. "I just hadn't ridden one before."

His hand shifts up your back, an unbelieving hum escaping him. Has Joel always been this warm? And somehow both so evidently sturdy but still comfortable? Safe? You don't know what possesses you, maybe it's the urge to not feel so divided from him in any way, but you turn head slightly to make it easier to speak: "You're not actually that old."

He pauses at that, fingertips freezing against the fabric of your pajama shirt. "Older than you."

You let out a sigh, feeling like there's a hint of something else tucked into his words that you're too tired to explore. "So?" He lets out another flat breath, a sound you don't quite understand but makes you want to compensate, "You can get old, though, when it's your time."

He shifts in a way that feels like a combination of stifling a laugh and a display of a touch of reluctant curiosity. "You givin' me permission?"

"Not like that," you shake your head against his arm, "I just--I don't know--I think it'd be good if you got to be old with arthritis and bad hip joints and whatever else happens. It'd mean you were still alive."

You don't realize what you're saying until the words slip out. The blankness of your statement is too honest and you blame the fact that you're actually starting to feel like you could benefit from the sleep you've been putting off. It's instinctual to turn into him in a vain attempt to get closer even though you're already hanging onto him in a way that feels ridiculous. Your fingers curl in to him a little more, clutching at the surprisingly soft fabric of his shirt.

It's a subtle change, but you're not surprised that Joel notices. You are, however, not expecting him to understand. The hand on your back draws up even further, pushing you against him more firmly. Maybe Joel did have a point. Good pressure.

"Don't go thinkin' about it."

For once, you want to listen to him without putting up a fight just to see that line between his forehead reappear. But you can't. It's not that easy. Even here, as safe as it's ever going to get, there's still a chance of loss. And even if the world was perfect and Joel could guarantee that there would never be a dangerous patrol or anything threatening him again, there are still other things that worry you. There's no reason for you all to stay together.

When your only response is to halfheartedly nod so that he can feel the motion, Joel lets out a partial sigh. The movement of his chest is more noticeable than the sound. His hand travels down the expanse of your back, something you only recognize because of the warmth his touch leaves in its wake. You're only half there until his fingers brush against a small expanse of exposed skin where your sleep shirt had ridden up. Nothing insanely suggestive, nothing that should be considered too intimate. It's likely an accident, too. It's too dark for it to be intentional.

Knowing this is not enough to keep your body from tensing. Joel's fingers move upwards with no warning, slipping between the only layer dividing you. The cotton of the T-shirt is trapping him and the heat of his touch as his hand settles on your hip.

"You here?" His question is low, like he's trying to compensate for the hint of worry leaching into his tone. "With me?" The second part of the question is an afterthought, said so quickly and earnestly it feels like an impulse.

You're melting, and you don't mind it all. In fact, you're starting to think you might prefer it. "For now, at least."

It's half joke, half something else. A punch that some cynical, over worrying part of your brain needs to throw. You hope he won't see past the shell of humor, but feel the uphill battle in his silence. In the eventual drag of his thumb across the curve of your hip. The gesture is a contradiction in itself--small and cautious yet so natural. What should feel foreign is so familiar it coats it all in a layer of intimacy that's difficult to just sit with.

An odd sense of almost panic that makes it impossible to think settles in you. Something in you feels like it's burning, a slow fire that's patiently spreading. You don't know if you want him closer or farther or something in between.

The mix of unknown emotions is enough to distract you from your derailing train of thought. Maybe that's the point. Some strategy on Joel's end to force a mental reset. If it is, it's working. You wouldn't say you're breathing any better or more calmly, you're just more aware of the way air enters your lungs and filters right back out. The world seems to be reduced to that. Just your breathing. And Joel.

The little of him you can make out in the dark and the feel of him everywhere without him feeling close enough. He's steady, secure in his firmness like he's some immovable force. Joel is also starting to feel like a natural heater, radiating just enough warmth to make everything comfortable.

What is wrong with you today? These thoughts might be more dangerous than the other ones. They're definitely close to being more overwhelming. All of this has to be in your head, the result of all the feelings you've been attempting quell all day culminating and a touch of something else. The thoughts about Joel that you've been fighting against since you first met him finally winning.

Every time you've forced yourself to stare at your hands after the edge of Joel's shirt rode up as he reached for something or moved a certain way. Every stray thought that rooted itself in your mind like an invasive species while you patched him up after a rough day. Every painfully overwhelming moment where you let yourself get distracted by his hands for reasons you could never justify. Those same hands are on you right now.

Okay--you need to get it together. Stop playing at something that's definitely all in your head. Your eyes drift up, searching for Joel's expression in an attempt to convince yourself to be normal. To remind yourself what's at risk if you don't get what you've been begging yourself not to let be actual romantic feelings in check.

He's already looking at you, eyes focused and jaw so tense you can tell from your position. Joel presses his lips together. The hand that's on you shifts upwards. Nothing drastic, but the heat of his pinky is now melting into the skin above your ribs.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from letting a shaky breath escape you. It's too much and nowhere near enough. It's another contradiction that throws you through a loop. You need him closer and the desire twists at you even further. There's a level of hesitant care in all levels of him. In his touch, in the way he's watching you. Like he just can't help it.

It's so overwhelming you have to do something. So you do the only thing you can think of. You reach out to him. Your hand finds his upper forearm.

The motion seems to shift things. Joel lets out a breath, but it's not the easygoing sound it was earlier. It's strained. "Y'should get some sleep."

You're not all that tired anymore, but his tone and your own confusion makes you want to listen. At least he hasn't done anything to imply that he's leaving.

A part of you wants to leave it at what it is. There's no reason to risk his presence by pushing. You don't know what that last moment was about, but Joel's earlier gruffness from today seems to be coming back. "You okay?" The question feels awkward hanging there on its own. "You've been moody."

The hand still under your shirt adjusts with him. "Moody?"

"Mhm." His fingers ghost up your spine, making it twice as hard to organize your thoughts. "More earlier than now, when..." God, you can barely remember with the way he's tracing patterns onto your skin. "When we were with that group?"

Joel's lips briefly pull into a frown. "I know that Jackson people are a little different than us, but trusting them all so soon--" He cuts himself off briefly. "Just don't think it's a good idea for you to accept it all so--"

He pauses as you shift against him as you move to sit up. Joel watches the separation with sharp caution. He doesn't ease until you settle again, your chin resting against his stomach. "Seriously?" It's a lighthearted enough disagreement. "I'm not overly trusting anything. I feel like a crazy person half the time because I feel like I should be staring down anyone that talks to Ellie or you for a second too long."

The confession eases Joel much more than it should. It's proof that he's been searching for...proof that he's needed. That you're still here. Still his and Ellie's above anything else.

But it's been an unsure couple of days. You're good with people, likable in a natural way. You know how to make people feel easy. It's not your fault that you're the natural communicator in the trio, and it's a good thing that at least one of you is inclined towards that sort of thing. It's just been harder than he thought, to watch people always talk to you, even if it's just a way of communicating something to all three of you. Especially when you smile or laugh as another way to ease them.

It's even worse when it happens to be other men. You don't see it, the way their eyes linger or their tendency to lean in just a little too close. Don't know the way your polite smiles and words draw them in. There isn't exactly a plethora of new women appearing daily, so your novelty is only an amplifier to all your good traits.

Tommy's been giving him shit about it. How long did you have to close the deal on that when you were her only option?

It was an almost brotherly form of teasing, but it still rubbed Joel the wrong way because of how true it is. He can't justify the bitter, protective vile that leaves his chest feeling too tight when he sees how well you fit. How easy it'd be for you to end up with one of the guys from here, closer to your age and a lifetime less of baggage.

Joel hates the breathlessness of it, hates that he has time to think about these kinds of things now. The resentment is too much, bubbles up and comes out in the form of something mean, "Doesn't always look that way."

It's not an overly done insult, and somehow that's worth. Joel's faint accusation is personal and it lands the way he knew it would. You sit up so quickly, Joel can't even try to stop you. "What the fuck does that mean?"

The bed is small, clearly meant for one. Sitting up didn't exactly accomplish what Joel has to assume was your goal--to create distance. You're still tangled together, only it's different now. You're practically sitting on his lap. His mind, which should be focusing on the fact that he's upset you, that he's pushing you in the exact direction he doesn't want you to go in, can only think of your sleep shorts.

Maria promised to get you some pajama pants as soon as some came in, but that hasn't happened yet. Winter makes clothing a little scarce, so you've been managing in a pair of elastic shorts. Thin, elastic shorts.

"Just that it looks like you've been getting comfortable. Trusting others, spending time with Ben."

Your lips pull into a firm pout. "I'm not going out of my way to trust shit. Yeah, I talk to a lot of people, but that's just because I rather that than have them talk to you or Ellie first. It--it feels safer that way."

There's such a genuineness in that, Joel almost feels bad, almost feels the need to back step. But your indignation at the implication that you're trying to leave is too alleviating. Until you try to crawl towards the edge of the bed. Away from him.

Joel props himself up on his elbow and reaches for you. His hand finding your forearm feels like giving something up. A silent, too raw plea for you not to go. He knows it isn't quite that in so many words, but you understand. You always do in your talent for feeling the way he bends for you when he can.

For a moment, that's it. Just his hand on your arm, still perched on the edge of the bed, still flighty. One move and you might be gone. It'd be so easy.

Joel's never really considered himself a pissing on his territory type of person or one to be found of dependents, but he'd be lying if he didn't say Jackson didn't worry him. He's not an idiot, he knows he's been rough to travel with and that he's taken time to get to here, but you've always stayed close. Some of that must have been influenced by survival.

Not that Joel wants you to stick around because you have no other choice. He'd never use that against you, it's just something that he wonders about from time to time. A fear that this might be how he finds out that's the only reason the two of you have been together for so long.

He's been thinking about loss more lately. After the decision he made, after what almost happened to Ellie. Losing Sarah left him stagnant for 20 years and some days that grief still flares up and makes breathing feel impossible. It's a wound that will never fully heal, and maybe that's for the best. Hurt means not forgetting, but Joel knows he doesn't have anymore of that left in him.

What if he did just fuck everything up? Not just for him, but for Ellie as well. He sees the way she looks at you, like you're everything. He's peered into your mornings together, the world that is your little routine and your inside jokes. If he messed all of that up because he only knows how to be an asshole when any type of feeling comes up...

Joel knows action better than he knows words. Caring is easier an action, and so is apology. His hand releases your forearm, trailing down your arm and settling on your exposed thigh. When you don't push him away or try to move, Joel feels like he can fully inhale again.

"You know my priorities, right?" Your voice sounds more hesitant than before. Nervous. "It's you and Ellie. It's been you and Ellie and nothing's going to change that. It doesn't matter if we're here for two more days or two more decades."

A pinch of guilt rises in his chest. Normally that level of promise would make him feel the need to cut all ties. Safer that way. But Joel doesn't want to hold you at arm's length, not right now. Carefully, his hand moves forward, closer to your inner thigh than knee.

He should say something. Admit to his own insecurity or apologize. "I know," is all that comes out, even though it doesn't really matter, you have every right to walk away. Your eyes still soften, though, like he managed to come close to saying what you needed to hear. "I shouldn't have said that."

His hand moves up even further and this time you have to react, your breath catching itself on your throat. The noise fucking gets to him. Gets to him in a way nothing has in a minute.

"You're kind of an asshole, sometimes," it's breathed out in a way that feels like you're accepting his apology, "And it's only going to get worse as you settle into your old age."

There it is. The joke was forced through the uneven timbre of your breathing, but it's there. All you, all forgiveness in the way the corner of your mouth turns upwards.

Joel's thumb drags across the soft skin of your inner thigh, "So now I'm already there?"

You blink, unsure on how to react to anything with his hand tenderly working the skin of your inner thigh. Everything in you is only capable of focusing on the feeling, of chasing it. "Getting there." Joel's thumb and pointer finger briefly pinch at your skin in a way that has to be intentional, right? His touch is approaching the end of your shorts.

The closer he gets, the worse the distance feels. Your face feels like it's burning at the thought. This is Joel, not some random guy that things could be casual with. Or maybe he could be casual, but you--god, you're getting ahead of yourself. This isn't--it--

"Too old?" Joel stretches forward, sitting up a little more. "You lookin' for younger like Ben?"

There's something odd in his tone. A flat attempt at humor that misses because it's too straightforward. Ben. Again. This is the second time his name's come up tonight. Why? And that's not even the strangest part. His assumption is what sticks out the most.

"I'm not..." Fuck, his hands are killing you. "I'm not looking. Not actively and if I..." Okay, it's officially too much, he's turning you into a transparent puddle. His hand pauses and pulls back down, settling on your knee. Firmly. Unbudging in a silent demand to continue.

He traces circles onto your knee with his thumb. "You can say it," he encourages in a way that feels like he's patronizing you.

The words feel like too much. Some lines might have been crossed today, but nothing life changing. You two could still dismiss the whole thing, crawl beneath thin sheets, fall asleep, and wake up the next morning like nothing ever happened. But his hands on your thigh and the needy ache you're not sure you fully understand it left you with. And what it felt like to have him closer.

Joel's sitting up fully now, waiting. "If I was looking, it wouldn't be at Ben, it'd be..." His hand calmly trails back to its previous spot on your leg with each of your words. Fuck, you're struggling to think again. "At you."

At that, his fingers push upwards, touching directly between your legs. "Really?" He's quick to create a steady rhythm, pulsing his pointer and middle finger at a speed that makes it impossible to breath. Your eyes screw shut so tightly you see stars. "You're so wet, can feel it through those shorts of yours."

The way Joel's voice catches on itself makes a weak sound slip out. You'd be embarrassed by it if he gave you the chance to be, but before you can even think twice about it, Joel's free hand finds the back of his head. His fingers tangle into your hair and he pulls you forward so harshly you try to gasp. The sound doesn't make it out, Joel's mouth is on yours before it has a chance.

He holds you against him as he takes his time pulling on your bottom lip with his teeth and letting his tongue glide over the bites. Your mouth opens for him instinctually, asking for more.

Joel's taking his time and moving at a speed that has him everywhere all at once as his fingers continue to work you through the fabric that divides you. He releases you with no warning, the hand at the back of your head finding a new place right beneath your chin. His fingers pause, forcing out an instinctual whine.

He's panting near your ear in a way that makes you miss his touch even more. "So this is all for me, sweetheart?" His eyes flit from your face back down to your lips.

Even though the question is dripping with roughness, there still manages to be a hint of something else there. Something genuine. It doesn't matter, though, because all you have the willpower to do is nod. Joel turns his head, pressing a kiss to your temple that's so close to tender it leaves you spinning. He trails the barely there kisses down to your ear before whispering, "Then prove it."

The word's send a jolt through you. "Prove it?"

Joel tugs you closer, you listen clambering back to where you were before trying to leave. Joel rests his back against the wall and makes a point of extending one leg. You don't fully get it until he's helping you ease onto his thigh. The material of his sweats is nowhere near enough.

"Joel--"

"Sh," he hums, soothingly as he runs a hand up and down your back, "It's okay, sweetheart." The hand that's still on your hip squeezes firmly. "I've got you, y'know that." He helps pull you forward on his thigh and the pressure after so long without nothing hits you harder than you thought it would. "There you go," you push down harder, faster, "Just like that."

The longer you go, the more Joel encourages you, whispering sweet nothings and words of encouragement as the knot in your stomach continues to grow until your body feels it. You're seizing up, body ready to throw itself off of a ledge. Your thigh squeezes around his leg, which must be how Joel knows you're close, because before you can find release, his hand is leaving your back and moving onto your arm. In one, fluid motion that should be impossible, he flips you two.

Your back is on the mattress and Joel's above you, pinning you in place with his body. You can feel him, all of him, hard and struggling between the layers that divide you.

Your lips part, but you don't know what to say. You're still reeling from your stolen orgasm, and you're not sure if you want to curse him out for it or simply ask why and how. Bad back your ass the way he just turned the two of you over with no real effort.

Before a single sound can come out of you, Joel folds the edge of the T-shirt you sleep in, exposing your stomach. A fluttery kiss to newly exposed skin. Again and again until he has to push up even more of your shirt to continue. "This," his voice comes out lower, harder as he tugs at the fabric, "Off."

You sit up just enough to help him tug the shirt off as quickly as possible. The desperation makes it harder than it ever should be to take off a shirt, but the offensive piece of fabric eventually finds its way to the floor.

The bareness you feel is startling, even in this level of darkness. Joel doesn't give you a chance to let your mind wander or insecurity take root. His mouth is exploring the newly exposed skin immediately. It's a rabid mix of love bites and placating the irritated marks with soft passes of his tongue and genuine, devoted kisses.

It's then that you realize there's a reason he's taking his time. He's definitely hard, you can feel him pressing against your thigh, but that doesn't matter to him. He's taking his time because he can. Because he's enjoying it, getting off on having you writhing and desperate under him.

"Joel," your voice is so small it feels like it belongs to someone else.

He pauses, lifting his head just enough that the scruff of his facial hair scratches comfortingly against your skin. A reminder that he's still him. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

You carefully lift a hand, making sure your movements are easy to follow in the dark. Joel lets your fingers settle in his hair. "Need more-need you."

"I know, sweetheart." His voice is low and soft, impossible to not trust. "You can wait a little longer." His teeth drag against your skin again. "Can't you, baby?"

Fuck, he could ask you anything like that and you'd have to say yes. "Mm."

He takes it as the answer it's supposed to be. Joel goes back to it until his fingers finally snag around the elastic band of your shorts. In one swift motion, he tugs it and your underwear away, leaving you fully exposed. He gives no warning before moving his mouth to your thighs, slowly moving up until the only thing left is your center.

With no warning, Joel licks through your folds. You practically cry out. "I know, sweetheart," he mumbles, barely looking up, "You can take it."

After that, he picks up the pace. Just as you think you're going to get used to the overwhelming pleasure, Joel moves his hand down your waist to use his thumb against your clit. Fuck. You're panting, whining, begging.

Joel groans. "You're close, I can feel you." His fingers replace his mouth, "You gonna come?" Another whine, like your body has forgotten how to make any other sound. "Yeah?" He's picking up the pace, pushing his fingers into you in a way that hits you somewhere deep. "Come on my fingers, sweetheart, I've got you."

His pace reaches its peak and his thumb works at your clit until you're finally pushed over the edge. Joel reaches you before you can scream, muffling the sound of your orgasm by pressing his lips to yours.

You can taste yourself on his tongue as he works you through your high. Joel knows when to stop, when the pleasure comes close to bordering on painful, he moves his hand back up your waist and focuses on just kissing you.

After a few minutes, you regain control of your thoughts. The urge to pull him closer takes over once again. Without thinking, you're tugging at the hem of his shirt. You almost think twice about it, but decide that it's only fair. He's touched so much of you and seen even more. All while fully clothed.

You're not as good or tactful about it as he is, likely due to the gap in your experience, but Joel picks up on what you want. He pulls away cautiously, eyebrows furrowing together like he's debating before finally giving in.

He discards his shirt just as carelessly as he got rid of his own. Joel tries to reconnect the two of you together again before you can take full note of him. It's a tactic you find the strength to beat, turning your head just enough to indicate that you're pausing.

Joel allows that, stills against with no protest. The silent promise that it's your pace is comforting. You let your eyes rake over his chest in what you hope is subtle, but really doubt actually comes off that way. You can feel him tense under your gaze. You stretch out a hand carefully, touching him because you can. Your attention focuses on the details that you can make out despite the limited light. A few marks of varying sizes are visible across his skin.

Scars. You wonder how many of them there are and the stories behind each. What it'd feel like to touch and learn each of them until they're as familiar as the lines of your palms. Your hand drifts down, faintly touching a particularly long mark.

Joel's hand moves, catching your wrist before you can make it any further. You frown up at him. "I want--"

"I--" He cuts himself off, unsure on how to explain it. You deserve to know what a war it will be to get him to open up, but he doesn't want that to change things. "Not yet, okay?" He squeezes your hand in his. "I'm not an easy person to care about, to get close to, but I--I can try to--"

"I disagree." He frowns at being cut off, but lets you continue. "And you don't have to worry about forcing anything right now, whatever you have to give, that's what I want."

That's all it takes. Joel crashes his mouth to yours, holding you there for much longer than before. He shifts away just enough to be able to pull down his pants. He strokes himself briefly before lining himself up with your entrance.

Joel enters you with no warning, easing himself in until your hips are pressed together. You're a mess despite his soothing words. He pulls back and pushes back, again and again until all you're seeing is white, blinding pleasure. "Fuck!"

"You're squeezin' me so good, sweetheart," his groans are hot and heavy against the shell of your ear. "Oh, sweetheart," he's losing his tact, his movements becoming more and more desperate. "You gonna come with me?"

You nod, eyes screwing shut as Joel picks up the pace until you're a mess again. He clamps a hand over your mouth as your second orgasm hits you fast and hard. It takes all of Joel's strength to pull out before finishing.

He lets himself relax against you after, a mess of sweaty limbs as you both recover. After a minute, Joel sits up. "You leaving?"

Joel brushes back your hair out of your face gently. "No, sweetheart, just need to get something to clean you up, okay?" You're about to protest again, but Joel beats you to it, "You don't want to sleep like this." When your only reaction is to pout up to him and cling to his arm, Joel leans down and finds a shirt to offer you. "Ellie's an early riser that never learned how to knock. You want to deal with this in the morning while pretending you're not?"

That's a point that sticks. You could probably explain Joel being in here early in the morning or he could climb out of your bed at first sunlight to keep this from being weird for Ellie...but your current state? Yeah, that's undeniable. "Come back?"

Joel squeezes your hand, taking a moment to watch your small expression fondly. "Promise."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us fanfic #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tlou x reader #joel miller x reader smut #pedro pascal x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller smut

[myunconquerablesoul]

Home

s.gojo x gn!reader

Warnings: none (one ore two curse words; is that even a warning?)

Wordcount: tba

Saturo Gojo is a whirlwind of a human being.

It's been a hard month for him, with the higher-ups constantly sending him from one place to another and always up his ass. 

You, on the other hand, took care of Tsumiki and Megumi. 

Ensuring that both their lunchboxes were filled, that they got to school on time, that dinner was ready by the time they got their homework done, and that when their bedtime enrolled, they were freshly bathed and prepared to sleep…

It felt like playing house at the beginning, really.

When Saturo first enrolled with not one but two children at your doorstep, you almost wanted to murder him right on the spot.

Both of you were barely out of school. Freshly moved in together... it definitely was something.

But this dys­funk­ti­o­nal family you four built in the last years... 

You wouldn't trade this for the world.

So yes, Saturo Gojo is a whirlwind of a human being, but it never got boring.

The last years were filled with loud laughs, unconditional support, piggyback rides, fireworks, and knowing someone would catch you when you fell. 

You were content with your current life. 

Saturo came home not more than an hour ago. And while you insisted that he shower and change into a more comfortable attire, he simply moved you to sit on the couch, laid his head on your lap, and practically begged you to play with his hair.

You always loved playing with his hair, and he melted every time you did. Seeing him relaxed was calming for you, too. Knowing he was safe with you, that he was home. Knowing that in these moments, there were no obligations for the both of you other than being in love.

And so you did. You couldn't bring yourself to deny him something this little, when it was clear how exhausted he was.

Saturo doesn't have many people in his life that he can say he loves from the bottom of his heart.

Being the positive persona he is, gojo is rarely ever sad, but when he's really going through it, he's as quiet as a mouse, unresponsive and stiff, like he's unsure what to do with himself. 

You take care of him in moments like these. When he feels lost or overwhelmed. You do not ask for anything in return. Everyone has so many expectations for him, and he has to shoulder everyone's problems and responsibilities, but when he's with you, he feels so light he could fly; he feels at home. 

This past Month has been a living hell for him. Constantly being sent from one mission to another. He barely had any time to call you while he was away.

He hated every second of it.

At that time, he felt like he was neglecting his little family. And even if he didn’t like to admit it- it kinda hurt him…

The kids really grew on him. In these last years, he learned to love coming home. 

He always thought that he would hate routines- that he wasn’t that kind of man that wanted to have this thing called family- but the domestic feeling, the love and safe haven you build together-

The delicious sent that would be in the air. Little angel Tsumiki would come running and excitingly tell him what she did that day. Megumi would sit on the couch, reading a book about animals or painting on the floor. 

And every time, Saturo would come up to him to ruffle his hair a bit just to piss that little demon off. 

Then there was you, the love of his life, standing in the kitchen cooking or setting the table for everyone. 

The moment you see him, your eyes would light up, and you would welcome him home with a kiss that he wouldn't mind escalating into something more.

And as if on cue choking noises can be heard in the background as he smiles against your lips…

It felt like really coming home, every time.

But unfortunately, Saturo was stuck in god knows where for a month, fighting ugly curses.

So when he got home, he just wanted nothing more than to take you into his arms and never let go.

He's currently resting his head on your lap, cheek smushed against your thigh while he snores contentedly. 

Looking at how peacefully he was asleep was a strong contrast to his constantly teasing nature.

He enjoys teasing and annoying you a bit too much.

Once, you even asked him why he would do it as much as he did, and that little Fucker just sent a smirk your way. "It's a secret."

In reality, his heart just bursts out of his chest whenever he makes you blush, and it's too cute when you're embarrassed. It just makes him feel so soft and mushy-

You couldn't help but think about the day the two of you finally got together...

"Where are we going?" 

"We?"

"Yes." A warm smile was plastered on his lips as if he was trying to lure you into his charms.

"The last time I checked, you're not my boyfriend, so there isn't any reason for you to accompany me anywhere." 

"You're right. I'm not your boyfriend."

He looked determined as he stood beside you. "Yet."

You literary did not have enough patience today to deal with him, so you simply ignored his comment. 

"I'm going to get some groceries. Want to come with me?" 

A smile spread over his lips, and his eyes sparkled under his sunglasses.

"I'd love to." 

Gojo never learned to flirt because girls always threw themselves at him, so he never had to fight for attention. Pissing people off is the only way he knows.

He's a crazy dude with no particular place for romance. However, with you, it's different.

His hand wraps around yours as he is now escorting you to a nearby grocery store.

"You don't have to hold my hand, you know."

"Oh, but I want to," he says as a matter of fact as he makes no attempt to let go as you walk through the street.

"People are going to assume that we are together."

Gojo dared to smirk. "What's wrong with that? Are we not a sweet couple?" He earnestly hoped that people actually thought so when they saw you.

"No."

"Oh, c'mon. I'm not that bad." The corners of his lips curved into a mischievous smile as he wrapped his arms around yours. "C'mon, admit it, I already stole your heart."

It pisses you off, really. The effect Gojo has on you. "What about you? Did I steal yours?"

Without hesitation, he nods. "Of course, but you are always so hard to approach." His voice sounded somewhat quiet as if his words were meant to be confidential for only you to hear. And it tugs on your heart.

"That's enough teasing for today, Gojo." You shook him off you and took a few steps away from him.

It hurt him, really. Hearing his family name out of your mouth. As if you were reminding him and yourself that you could never be something more than friends.

You call everyone else by their names, Suguro, Shoko, Kento, Yuu... but him? It's always been Gojo.

"No, I'm not done." He's getting closer to you. When you looked up to him... God, you looked so effortlessly beautiful to him that he couldn't even stop the words from slipping from his mouth.

"How about a kiss?" 

The second his words tumbled out of his pretty lips, Gojo cringed.

And you, well, you exploded. 

"Is this all a joke to you? Playing with people's feelings until you're bored and then move on to the next one?"

This has been going on for two years now. You know he wasn’t really playing you, but you couldn't take it any longer. 

"No, Y/N. I genuinely like you."

You only scoff. "And what makes you say that?"

"I've never met someone with your kind of charisma. Your wit and sass. I never felt like this before..."

He was trying his best to stay calm. Gojo's voice was soft and filled with admiration as he stared into your eyes.

"Sweet words won't get you far with me."

"These are more than just sweet words. Just give me a chance." His hand brushes against your cheek. His other hand entangles with yours.

"Let me make you happy. I just want to make you happy." Gojo was desperate. He was practically plea- no... he- he was begging.

Gojo Saturo never begged.

That was until it came to you. Just like he let you in his personal space. Constantly touching you and keeping you close. Always making you the center of his attention. Always putting you before anyone else. Never has he blocked you out with his infinity…

And somehow, this realization made you anxious.

What if-

"What if I can't make you happy?" you whispered. "What if this will not be what you wish for?"

Gojo pulls you closer as he whispers, "What if you can? What if this is everything you wish for?" He looks at you with a soft smile. It is as if nothing scares this man.

You couldn't take this anymore, so you averted your gaze. "What if I'm scared of exactly that?" It was almost inaudible, but he heard you clearly.

"Are you scared of being loved?" He pulls your hand to his chest and lays his forehead on yours.

"Are you not? What if this is all a mistake? What if you're mistaking attraction for love?"

"Trust me." His tone sounded as serious as ever. "The way I feel for you. There is no way I'd mistake it for anything else." 

You don’t even know why you’re dragging all of this out… it’s been two years by now. It’s obvious that he is sure in what he feels.

You can feel his chest rising as he inhales intensely the scent of your hair. "Why are you hesitating?"

"I'm afraid of getting hurt. Empty promises, false hopes. Pretty words to conceal cruel intentions... I'm not saying you'll have ulterior motives, but still..."

"Trust me. I mean every word I said." Gojo's hand goes up to cup your chin as he stares directly into your eyes. "I know how cruel the world is, but I promise I will never hurt you."

He then leans in a bit more, his lips hower over yours- he waits for your permission to seal this as his eyes are halflided but still locked on yours.

"Can I...?"

And you just nod because you always felt this pull towards him. So what, allow yourself this much happiness. 

Gojo's lips press against yours gently as if he doesn't want to hurt you. His lips are soft, and his breath is warm. 

It does not take long before he pulls you in tightly as his tongue tries to gain access, and he devours you. His lips are greedy, and his hands are all over you.

After the exchange, he rests his forehead on yours as his eyes remain closed.

"was that convincing enough?" he asked with a smirk. That bastard is back on teasing you again.

You just roll your eyes. "Don't make me regret this."

"You won't," He replies before kissing you again. 

All your worries disappear, and you lose touch with the real world as he consumes all your senses. 

"I'll never let you regret this."

A few years later, of course, Saturo was proven right. You never once regretted falling in love with him.

"Why are you smiling like that?" His hoarse voice startled you a bit. 

Looking down at him, his azure blue eyes meet yours. "You should rest a bit more." You spoke softly at him as you ran your fingers through his hair. Saturo only hums in delight, leaning more into your touch. "The kids only finish school in about three hours." 

"Lay with me? Want to hug you." He sounded like a little kid. You chuckled. "Sure, Baby." 

Saturo let you get up so that you could lay on top of him on the couch, and the moment you're settled, his arms wrapped around you with a tight grip, he kissed you on the top of your head.

"Ahh... That's much better."

Yeah, it is.

Now that he was home…

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo saturo

[applejuicefruit]

This might sound weird but can i request Olivier Giroud x teen reader, like where they are neighbours and reader’s parents are like drunk and drugged people so he takes care of her? In a fatherly way❤️❤️

I really love your blog! You writings are my favorites❤️❤️

Okay so you’re telling me there are NONE writings about Olivier Giroud on this app?

THIS MAN NEEDS MORE APPRECIATION

Thank you so much for requesting this! This one actually feels very personal to me.

I hope you like this💓

(Let’s pretends Oli doesn’t have kids and a wife in this story okay🤭)

also tw : domestic abuse, drug and alcohol mention, violence , oliver being the father i actually need since mine went out to buy milk and never came back ☹️

kylian mbappe is in this one too! kinda of kylian x friend reader where they both have a crush on each other 🤭

just look at the way he’s comforting kylian 😭😭😭😭😭

Safe

You grew up in a pretty messed up family.

You’re parents were caring and nice when you were a kid but once you grew up they stopped caring about you. The only reason they didn’t divorce was because they had to decided who would take care of you and since no one wanted to do it they remained married. Also because if they divorced your rich uncles wouldn’t gave them any more money. You called them for help so many times and the only thing they did was giving them money.

What a shitty family.

You can’t recall when everything started to going down you just remembered being alone all of sudden.

You lived in a fancy complex in the middle of Milan. It was a very expensive building, the one who has a gym and a pool inside of it. If it wasn’t for your uncles you all would be living under a bridge now.

Your parents acted normal in public but inside your house everything was crazy. They would constantly fight and throw things at each other. They would scream and hit each other and that made you feel so unsafe.

You tried to escape once and saying that they didn’t even realised you were gone hurt you.

You were 18 so legally you could have left, problem you had no job or degree.

One night the constantly screaming made you feel sick and you decided to sit on the stairs of your complex hoping they would stop.

It was cold and you were only wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans but you were so scared of going back inside that you preferred staying cold.

You waited for two hours, sitting there all alone but they wouldn’t stop. You started crying and fidgeting with your hands, your anxiety rising when you heard someone coming out of the elevator.

You pretended you didn’t hear anything so your neighbour wouldn’t ask you.

You knew exactly who he was.

Olivier Giroud, the famous football player. He played for Milan and for the Equipe de France. He won the world cup once. He’s also champion of Italy now.

He was a nice person. Always greeting you when he saw you, asking you if you were good. He was like an angel sent to heart. Everyone loved him for his caring and gentle soul.

In fact he was going home when he saw you sitting on the stairs, shivering from the cold.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” he asked with a concerned voice

“Yes” you said with a shaky voice and in that moment you cursed yourself because you didn’t want to look so weak

“Are you sure?”

“Mh-mh”

“What are you doing outside here? It’s cold,

plus it’s past midnight, you should be sleeping…”

“I’m fine”

“Have you eaten?” he asked and when he mentioned food your stomach rumbled

You were starving.

“Do you want to come inside and eat something?” he asked hoping you would say yes

“I don’t want to bother”

“It’s fine really”

In that moment you turned around to look at him and when he saw your face his heart broke a little. Your eyes red and puffy from crying.

You stood up and followed him inside his home.

His apartment completely different from yours.

It was clean and nice decorated. It felt like home.

“You can sit on the couch if you want to, I’ll get you something to eat” he said while you sat

He came back a few moments later with a very good looking sandwich and you couldn’t help to smile at his kind gesture.

You thanked him and started eating.

Once you’ve finished he gave you something to drink and set everything in the sink.

“Now can you tell me what were you doing outside?” he asked you again

“I didn’t want to stay at home”

“Your parents?” he asked and you looked at him with an interrogative face “I hear them fight sometimes” he said

“Yup, that’s my life”

“Have you called someone?”

“I’ve called so many people and no one would do anything”

“I’m sorry, truly, if you want you can use my guest bedroom and stay here tonight” he said

“I can’t accept, you already did a lot for me”

“I insist, I can’t let you go back knowing they might hurt you”

You thought about it and accepted his offer.

Just for one night.

He showed you the way and the moment you touched the bed you drifted off to sleep.

He woke you up around 8 am

“I’m sorry to wake you up but I have to go to practice, you can stay here a bit more if you want to” he said truthfully

“No it’s fine I’ve got school in one hour…”

“Okay, well, if you need anything just give a call” he gave you his phone number and you thanked him.

After that night days passed and everyday he would make sure you were okay. He texted you and asked if you needed anything. Truth was you wanted to spend the rest of your days in his apartment, away from your parents but you couldn’t take advantage of his kindness like this.

This month things got worse.

Your dad started drinking again because things were going bad at work, your mum started using again and you were on the verge of a crisis.

“Y/n!” your dad called you from the living room.

You were in your bedroom doing your homework so you decided to ignore him.

It was almost 10 pm so he would have probably fell asleep very soon. Your mom was out, probably with some druggies.

“Y/n!” your dad called you again.

You decide to go out and see what he wanted.

When he saw you he smiled a bit.

“Honey can you get me a beer?” he asked.

Was he serious?

“No” you replied back

“Excuse me?”

“I said no. I was doing my homework and you interrupted me. Plus you’re already drunk you don’t need another beer!” you said almost leaving when you saw the bottle of his empty beer crashing straight into the wall in front of you.

“Where do you think you’re going whore! Come back and pay me some respect! I’m your father” he said standing up from the couch.

You started to being scared.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to…” you apologised hoping he would calm down.

You were so wrong.

He come towards you with an inhuman speed and slapped you right in face. The impact was so hard you fell to the floor. He never raised his hands to you.

“Dad I said i’m sorry please…”

“What a whore, always begging just like whores do” he said sitting on top of you “I bet you like when I hit you” he said punching your nose making it hard to breathe.

You tried to free yourself and somehow, due to the fact that he was drunk he lost his balance and fell.

In that moment you ran out of your apartment and ran through the corridor trying to find Olivier’s apartment.

“Olivier…” you almost shouted knowing on this door. You really hoped he was home you didn’t have no where to go “Olivier please please open the door” you knocked a bit louder, your eyes full of tears, your face red and you knows bleeding “please please Olivier”

That’s until you saw him opening the door with a very concerned face

When you saw him you hugged him so tight you were scared to leave him.

He was shocked, he didn’t know what was going on so he simply hugged you.

You cried into his shirt but he didn’t mind

He waited a few minutes before you calmed down.

“Sweetie can you look at me?” the moment you looked at him he saw your bleeding nose and your red cheek “What happened? Who did this to you?” he asked in a more serious tone

“My-my father…he was - he was drunk he didn’t mean to”

“I’m calling the police”

“No please no, don’t”

“Sweetheart…”

“I know it’s a bit messed up but they’re the only family I have, please…”

The moment you said this you saw your dad coming straight into Oli’s apartment.

Olivier saw it and he put you behind him in a protective way.

“Leave before I call the police”

“Why? What has done this whore for you? Is she good in bed? The only reason a football player would stay with her I guess”

“I won’t say it again, leave before I call the police”

“Nah, the bitch is coming home with me and she’s going to learn some good manners”

“Not a chance” Olivier said protecting you “now leave my apartment before I call the police”

Your dad left without not even looking at you.

The moment he left you started crying harder and shaking. You were so scared.

“Hey hey it’s fine. You’re okay he’s gone okay? He won’t hurt you ever again I promise you, I swear on my life” he said hugging you.

You simply nodded too tired to even reply.

He medicated your nose and let you sleep in his guest bedroom.

The morning after you woke up with a lot of noise coming from your apartment.

“Olivier?” you called him going into his living room

“Stay here” he simply said

“What’s going on?”

“The police is here…I know I said I wouldn’t call them but…” he didn’t even finish the sentence that you hugged him

“Thank you” you said

He smiled and hugged you back.

From that day on you continued living with him, his guest bedroom became your own bedroom. He helped you with homework and did everything a father should do for his own kids even if you weren’t his. He would bring you his matches and you would cheer for him. Who knew you liked football this much?

Until the moment of the world cup came

You couldn’t go with him in Qatar mostly because of school so you had to stay home alone for a month. You weren’t sure how to react, after your past you hated being alone.

“So…” he said coming through the door and sitting on the sofa watching tv with you “how would you feel coming in Qatar with me?” he asked you

“I-I…you know I would love to but I have school”

“I already talked with your school. Your grades are high and you’re the best of the class…they agreed to let you do online classes for a month, in case you wanted to come”

You were speechless. You said yes without even thinking.

When you got in Qatar you went straight into your room and fell asleep on the huge comfortable bed. The next day Olivier introduced you to the rest of the team, everyone knew your past but they decided to not say anything to make you uncomfortable. They all made you feel safe.

You took a liking in Kylian.

He was the first one to approach you.

He introduced himself and you started talking.

“So how’s my belle today?” he asked when he saw you coming out of your bedroom

“I’m good thank you! How are you?”

“Fine, ready to our first match against Australia” he said knowing it was going to be a great match “in fact…I wanted to ask you if you could wear this” he said giving you his jersey “you know, as a good luck”

“Of course but don’t tell Olivier” you said making you both laugh.

Olivier tho saw everything from a distance and couldn’t be happier that you were making friends. Even if he knew he would have to talk with Kylian.

“Okay…well I better go now, I have practice” he said awkwardly

“Oh yes, sure…I’ll see you tonight”

“Yes…well, bye” he said waving to you.

At the stadium you were in the VIP section, feeling protected with a lot of security. The game went good! France won 4-1 against Australia. Rabiot scored first, Giroud scored twice and Kylian scored too. You couldn’t be happier. You knew they were celebrating in the changing room so you simply texted Olivier you were coming back to the hotel.

Once arrived you changed into your pajamas and laid Kylian’s jersey on your bed.

A few hours later a gentle knock woke you up from your sleep. When you opened you saw a very happy and excited Kylian.

“Did I wake you?” he said apologising

“No” you lied

“Sure…” he said not believing you but smiling “the jersey brought me good luck”

You couldn’t help but blush.

“You’re just good at playing football Kylian, I didn’t do anything”

“You were there, for Olivier, for me, and for the team…and that meant a lot” he said truthfully looking into your eyes. You didn’t know how to feel. You’ve never had a boyfriend, you’ve never had a real crush so you didn’t know how to act. He kinda sensed it your discomfort so he just smiled trying to ease it a bit.

You got lost into his eyes.

“I’ve spoken with Olivier” he said out of nothing “he really cares about you…that’s why he threatened me”

“He did what?” you almost shouted

“He said I have to treat you good and if I dared to hurt you he would kill me” he said now laughing and you couldn’t help to laugh too “but we’re good friends so I would never hurt you…”

Ouch that hurt.

Just friends?

He saw your expression change and he wanted to say a bit more.

“Unless…you don’t want us to be just friends?” he teased a bit and you were completely out of words.

Of course you wanted to be more than friends!

He looked straight into your eyes and saw the way you were looking at his lips so the made first step and gently put his hands on your face and kissed you. Very gently. His lips like feathers on yours. You wrapped your arms around his body and put him closer to you.

You kissed for a while before you separated to catch breathe.

“I want this” he said truthfully “I want to be more than friends”

“I don’t know how to act Kylian…I’ve never dated”

“We’ll take things slow, I won’t pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to but please, just give me a chance”

You didn’t even replied back instead you kissed him.

He smiled into the kiss.

If someone told you a couple of months ago that this was going to be your life you wouldn’t believed it but now this was really your life and you couldn’t be more grateful.

To that angel named Olivier who changed your life in the best way.

#kylian mbappe #kylianmbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian x reader #paris saint germain #psg #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe imgagine #olivier giroud #olivier giroud x reader #footballers x reader #football fan #football imagine #world cup

[asterdisaster06]

i love you ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], platonic 141 x reader

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

summary > Soap and Gaz shenanigans

word count > 1.9k

warnings > military inaccuracies

a/n > do you guys ever have so many fic ideas but have to limit yourself to two series only? yeah, that’s me and it’s breaking my heart that i can’t keep up with 10 separate ideas

ao3

The sun shining through the military issued curtains warms your sleeping figure as your eyes flutter open - your brain taking a moment to catch up with your eyes viewing your new room. Your new home. It offers you a sense of comfort alongside loneliness at the thought of the pure solitude you were encased in. At your old base, you shared a room with a fellow soldier and someone you were proud to call a friend, but that isn’t the case here. Here, you’ve yet to truly make any official friends, and you're doubtful that the unease you feel even being on base would let you open up enough to be able to. Trust and friendship is something that you would like to keep separate on the field - most soldiers would - but you suppose it also extends into domestic moments. You find it hard to trust someone after one little conversation ended a relationship just like that. 

You shake that thought off like a wet dog to water and push yourself to get up. From what little you remember from the chaos of last night, today was supposedly stealth and sniper training with Gaz. It didn’t trouble you too much considering the connection between Simon and Gaz was a deep trust but nothing beyond simply working together. You had to have that trust with those on your side in this line of work. The job would be ten times more dangerous if you didn’t. You suppose that this training was meant to build that trust between you and the team before an actual mission, but you weren’t entirely sure if you could achieve that with Simon himself.

Brushing your teeth, you stare at the tired figure in front of you. A bruised and battered soul that has never quite healed despite your best efforts, as evidenced by the distinct eye bags and litter of scars across both your skin and heart. Seen and unseen. To the trained eye, you suppose, there was no real difference however. You spit into the sink, letting it run down the drain alongside your emotions. The cabinet holds only the base essentials provided by the base and your medicine that you throw back with a grimace. There was nothing you could truly do to drastically improve your appearance, but you found yourself wishing somehow that you could. You resign yourself to how you look and shake your folded clothes out before throwing them on in preparation for the long day ahead. You mask slips on over your head with such ease that you would

As you lace up your boots with efficiency earned only by doing it repetitively every single day, you hear a knock sound on the door. A gentle thud that almost reminds you of the sound a body makes when it falls to the floor - keyword being almost. A second knock is made just as you reach the door and turn the knob to be greeted with the sight of both Soap and who you assume is Kyle “Gaz” Garrick by his side. 

“Rise and shine, Angel!” Soap yells out, and you can almost hear bagpipes accompanying his excitement if you listen carefully. Then again, you could be imagining it. 

“Training doesn’t start until eight. It’s six,” You point out, your morning voice still fully fledged. If that wasn’t enough to signify your recent throw into consciousness the yawn after your statement should’ve been.

“He wanted to invite you to breakfast at seven, but also insisted on getting here early enough so you couldn’t say no,” Gaz offers up before he’s jabbed in the side by Soap, much to your amusement. 

“I’ll join you guys for breakfast,” You begin, already seeing the start of a grin making its way across Soap’s face. “But, only if you guys join me for my morning run beforehand.”

“Oh, how hard could it be? I bet I could beat you around the compound, Gaz,” Soap teases. 

. . .

Soap would soon eat his words, and dirt, as he ended up tripping over air twice on the run. Although, he insists there was a rock that you didn’t see that was out for him. Unsurprisingly, despite the little mishaps at the beginning of the jog, your two future comrades kept up decently with your pace. You suppose they had to if they were able to make it all the way up the ladder into this team. 

“How is Soap more clumsy than you, Gaz, but somehow you’re the one that fell out of a helicopter?” You mutter under your breath, realizing your mistake as soon as the words escaped your mouth. 

“How did you know that story, love?” Gaz asks, wiping sweat off his face with the back of his hand. 

“Word gets around,” You reply quickly. Not a complete lie. It just so happens that word got around from Simon mentioning small, insignificant details about his teammates on missions. Ones that made you laugh way back when. 

“Imagine being known only for falling out of a chopper,” Soap teases, nudging Gaz. 

“Very funny. At least my hair is regulation standard,” Gaz says, tussling the mohawk of the Scot. Almost like brothers, you notice. 

“Oi, lay off you div,” Soap says, his scotticism slipping out. 

“I’ll meet you guys for breakfast after a shower,” You say, giving a stretch and a big yawn afterwards.

“Just don’t get lost,” Gaz offers as he waves farewell. It appears that Soap has been spreading stories about your unfortunate meeting circumstances. 

“Aye, we’ll save you a seat, LT,” Soap grins with an exaggerated salute. 

You roll your eyes with a soft smile painted across your face as you turn to head back towards your living quarters. The dimly lit room offered a muted sense of comfort; although, you were itching to get some pops of color into the bland room. You’d have to check with Price to see how much you could change - considering you were contracted for five years, it would be likely that there was more leeway than usual. Especially given your position, but that could just be the fact your old roommate and you constructed a colorful, sentimental place you were proud to call home. It elicited a faint pang of homesickness within you. You’d have to call sometime soon to update them. 

Making sure the door was definitely closed behind you first, you slip off the light mask. Its design reminded you of the weeks leading up to the completion of its construction. You had a few of your fellow teammates to thank for their arts and crafts help - although you suspect that they would rather thank you for the creative outlet. You just consider the fact that all the crayons were accounted for and un-eaten a success. It has become a part of you now, whether you wanted it or not. There was something symbolic about the bird-like nature of its design; perhaps you wished you had wings of your own to escape the hurt. However, that’s more of a therapist's take on what actually occurred. 

It was more of an inside joke whenever you were a recent hire to your previous base. There was a mission or two that required you to take a position as a lookout. A bird had started chirping and cawing in your ear, sending extreme confusion over the commsat your attempts to get it to shoo. It was something that your team laughed about after the fact, saying that the bird life chose you. Ergo, your mask reflected the appearance of your feathered friends. The idea of your callsign being reflected in the feathery appearance also made it feel fitting. 

You shed your comfortable yet cold clothes and step into the warmth of the shower water, letting it run down your frame into the drain. If you stared long and hard enough at the floor, you could’ve sworn that it held a pink tint. It was a simple hallucination, but it had been real at one point in your life. You choose to close your eyes, focusing on the feelings of your hands running across scars - old and new. Your past life never held these marks, evidence of your suffering. Simon was the only one decorated with the physical damage appearing on his skin a few years ago, but you’ve accumulated more than your fair share of healed wounds.

You wash away those thoughts alongside the sweat and suds down the drain, making way for the amour surrounding your heart. The roughness of the towel as you dry yourself grounds you to reality. You actively avoid looking at the mirror, refusing to look at your scarred appearance that Simon would lose his mind over, as you get dressed. Breakfast wasn’t something that you indulged in as much anymore, not when it was no longer shared with the hugs from behind as Simon stole a piece of bacon. The very thought pained you to your core. You covered it up, swept it under the rug, in a very similar fashion to you disguising your appearance by the mask. 

You exit your room, making sure to lock it behind yourself. The beasts cage. You wander the halls until you reach the canteen, quickly scanning the room until your eyes settle on Soap. Or rather, the man beside him. Ghost. There was something about him that had changed from the person you once knew, besides the obvious appearance and behavior due to the environment. Or maybe, just maybe, you never knew him after all. You refuse to believe that you knew the real him, and the real Simon had truly tossed you to the side that easily. It wasn’t something you were willing to accept. Not yet. Not ever.

“Oi, over here Lieutenant!” 

There goes your sense of peace and internal argument over whether you could slip out unnoticed and effectively ghost this entire interaction. Your inner turmoil is only heightened by the fact that the choice was made for you - that and the fact that you’re now being perceived by the entire room as you make the walk of shame over to the table. All the eyes on you make it difficult to feel at ease. Even with your mask disguising that particular emotion paired with a heavy wince, your body language undoubtedly exuded your nervous nature. 

You trudge over to the table as the group all gives you their own greetings. You have an inkling that Soap had dragged all of the members here for breakfast as a sort of meeting for you. It’s incredibly hard for you to believe that both Price and Ghost were here willingly. 

“Goodmorning, Bonnie!” Soap says, the chipper in his voice making you wince slightly.

“Morning, little birdie,” Gaz calls out, seemingly taking a shine to that new nickname.

“Lieutenant,” Is all Price offers up. 

Although, it’s more than the intense stare and grunt you got from Ghost. You’re not entirely sure if you’re more offended or relieved by that. You pull one of the chairs out and take a seat near Soap and Gaz. It appears that they weren’t lying about saving you a seat, much to your surprise. On top of that, someone here - you suspect Soap - grabbed you a tray so you could avoid the line. It warmed your heart, a smile sent towards Soap. It’s times like these that you thank past you for constructing the mask in a way that your mouth is exposed enough to speak and eat. 

“Hey, Ghost. Have you ever thought about having your mask like that?” Soap pipes up.

“No. I already have enough of my face exposed with the eyes,” He replies gruffly. 

“Ah, I suppose that’s true. Angel does have their eyes covered. It’s kinda like the opposite of your mask,” Soap mentions. 

A simple hum from the man across the table is all you received. It’s all you or anyone else at the table received the entire time you spent eating with the team. Despite the small talk and inside jokes being created right in front of your eyes. It was so odd, sitting there right in front of the man you used to wake up next to, and him not knowing a single thing. Never noticing. These thoughts plagued you into a simple quiet as you listened to Soap explaining what “mountain chickens” were to Gaz - much to his confusion. The absurdity of the completely domestic circle of fellow soldiers sharing breakfast made you smile, if only slightly. All of it came to an end eventually as each individual had something to busy themselves with throughout the day. 

“Well, better not waste any time,” Gaz exclaims, offering you a hand up that you graciously accept. 

“Up and at ‘em soldier,” Soap adds. 

You were looking forward to the hand to hand combat training against these two. It was a formality but nonetheless you stirred at the opportunity to exhibit your abilities against both men. Prove yourself in some way or another. Maybe even prove to yourself that you do in fact deserve to be here - despite the words ringing in your ears as an echo of Simon Riley claiming you didn’t. Never would. Well, you would prove him wrong. Starting today. Not five years ago - starting today - because now he could see you. You could show him beyond a doubt that you had improved enough to earn a spot on the renowned team. Alongside him - even if he wouldn’t know it. Not yet.

-

taglist: @abbiesxox

#ao3 #cod fic #cod mw2 #fanfic #mw2 141 #cod 141 #john soap mactavish #mw2 #simon ghost riley #angst #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #platonic 141 #domestic fluff #task force 141 #fluff

[alloftheimagines]

tess servopoulos | birthday

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 2.9k

warnings: 18+. minors dni.

smut with plot. fingering (reader receiving because we all know tess is a giver). hurt/comfort. apocalypse-induced depression, mentions of death, corpses, grief. reese's chocolate is consumed.

request: Can I request something for Tess?! Something domestic with hurt/comfort and I little bit of smut if you are comfortable with it, I just LOVE your writing and I know that you would do an amazing job 🥺.

You hate birthdays. There was a time, of course, when that wasn’t the case; a time when your family got together with gifts and cake and candles and songs, cameras flashing, barbecue smoking, sun setting over your garden so the banners you'd protested against glinted. But there is nothing to celebrate these days, least of all today. There are too many memories, too many ghosts following you wherever you go. Flashes of your first post-outbreak birthday, when your sister had tried so hard to find a cake that she’d been beaten for breaking curfew, and instead of a party you’d wiped blood from her face. Of course, that wasn’t the worst one. Not even close. The year after, she was gone and you were making your way from city to city alone, birthday all but forgotten until you’d arrived at a QZ and saw the date. Ever since, you’ve tried to ignore the passing of time, tried to avoid anything that reminds you of the person you were before all this began. It’s too painful. 

Still, it’s impossible not to be swallowed by grief each year. Impossible not to pay attention to that burning emptiness in your chest that was once reserved for good things. Normal things. To top it off, your day was awful. You’re exhausted, nauseous, and debilitated by a pounding headache that came on amongst the heat and smoke of the day. A day spent piling bodies up like they weren’t once people. You’d come across a kid who’d looked just like your late niece, and suddenly you were battling anxiety. You still are, eight hours later. You sit now in your apartment with the lights off, paralysed on the couch because you don’t have the strength to get up and collapse onto your bed. You’re afraid that sleeping will only bring more memories, and you can’t handle any more. 

It doesn’t surprise you much when the door opens, and you know without looking that the silhouette at the threshold is Tess. You close your eyes, dread seeping through you. You don’t usually let her see you like this, but since you spend most nights together these days, it's no longer easy to avoid her. 

“Hey. Why are you sitting here in the dark?” She flicks on the only lamp in your apartment, standing between the kitchen and the living room. When she sees you, she pauses in her tracks. “Y’okay?”

“Hm-mmm.” It’s the best attempt at a lie you can offer, and it seems to satisfy her for just a moment as she kisses your forehead. 

But then she frowns, her touch on your clenched jaw lingering as her scrutiny scorches your face. “Wanna try that again?”

“I’m just tired,” you say. “How’d the job go?” Considering she appears unscathed, you can only assume well. It’s another reason she’s here most nights; easier to sneak into your apartment after curfew than her own a couple blocks down. 

“Fine. Good as can be expected.” She shrugs and sits down beside you, still unwilling to look away. After kicking off her shoes, she begins smoothing your hair off your face. Her touch is gentle, which once surprised you but now doesn’t. 

Your breath hitches in your throat at the warmth it brings, even now. Instead of chasing all of your feelings away, though, it only intensifies them, and you find a lump building in your throat. 

“Hey.” She takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Talk to me.”

You can only shake your head, closing your eyes in fear that your tears will leak out otherwise. You know she wouldn’t judge you, but it still makes you feel weak. Tess has always just carried on, never buckling under pain or exhaustion. You… You have more nights like this than you’d care to admit, usually brought on by the corpses you carry day in, day out, and the faces you mistake for others'. You’ve tried to find a different job, but you’re still relatively young and able, and that means you’re stuck in manual labour until your back gives out or you croak. 

Tess sighs and pulls you into her chest, placing kisses into your dust-caked hair. “I know. Birthdays suck, right?”

You’re so surprised that the tears are staunched for a moment, and you pull away to glance up at her. “How’d you know?”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s on your ration card.”

Still, the fact she’d taken notice at all… well, for a moment, a flicker of something easier to cope with rushes through you. 

“I got you a present,” she said, digging through her shirt pocket — and pulling out a pack of your favourite chocolate, Reese’s. “It may or may not be two years out of date, but it’ll have to do.”

“Tess…” You take the chocolate, relishing in the way the plastic packaging feels against your fingers. You haven’t seen chocolate in a hell of a long time, and the sight of the bright orange and the promise of peanut butter cups inside makes you want to cry. “How the hell did you get this?”

Tess shrugs. “I have my ways.” 

You dare not ask what those might be, afraid of what and who she might have paid just to make you happy. Instead, you hug her, breathing in her musky night-air scent as your eyes begin to throb. You’re going to cry, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. 

“Thank you,” is all you can whisper shakily.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Tess replies, drawing circles at the nape of your neck. “D’you eat tonight?”

Warily, you shake your head. As happy as you are about the chocolate, you’re not sure you have the appetite for anything. Better you save it until you’ll really enjoy it. 

“It was a hot day. You need something to keep you going.” She pats your thigh before getting up and searching your cupboards. There isn’t much; you’ve been getting by on shitty rations despite all your work, and Tess is usually the one to stock up on food with whatever she gets from smuggling. “What are you in the mood for?” she asks now. “Spaghetti? Mac ‘n’ cheese? We’ve still got that bread I picked up yesterday, too.”

You don’t know how to tell her that you don’t want any of it. That eating something from a tin, or even a stale loaf of bread, just makes you remember those burgers your dad used to burn on the barbecue, or the cake your sister made special. For one night, you just need to not exist. You need to turn the light off again and forget. But with Tess here, you can’t, and you can’t ask her to leave now. Not during curfew. 

“I think maybe I’m just going to get an early night,” you decide on. “Is that okay?”

Tess turns from the cupboards, that same look of concern hardening her features again. She takes a moment before responding. “I hate it when you shut me out, y’know.”

Guilt eats at you, and you run a hand across your face — but you know it isn’t fair. Tess is honest, blunt even sometimes, but she holds her cards close to her chest too. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“I don’t know either. I’m just… I’m worried, and I want you to let me in. I mean, is this about me? Do you not… want me here right now? ‘Cos I can leave—”

“You can’t leave, Tess. It’s past curfew,” you snap. 

“If you want me to fuckin’ go, I’ll go.” Her voice is suddenly hostile, and it takes a moment for realisation to dawn. She’s reading your behaviour as rejection, coldness. 

God, it’s been a long time since you’ve had to think about how your actions impact the people closest to you, mostly because you haven’t let many people near. But Tess wormed her way in, first into your bed and then into your heart, and… shit, she brought you fucking Reese’s. She deserves better than to think this is her problem.

“That’s not what I want,” you say, voice cracking as you realise how true it is. As much as you’d like to sit in the darkness, she makes everything better. Easier. You don’t want her gone. Not ever. “It’s just hard. You know that. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have anything left of me by the end of the day, and today of all days…” You swallow as the first tear falls, knowing it won’t be the last. “I always want you here, but sometimes I don’t know how to be here with you.”

A wrinkle burrowed between her brows, and she stepped closer to you like a deer she was afraid to scare off. “That’s all you had to say. I just need to know what you’re thinking, feeling, y’know?” 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

She pulls you close again, this time not letting go. Your arms curl around her solid frame as her fingertips move across the length of your spine, up and down. You let your tears fall then, and they dampen Tess’s hair, her shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” Tess soothes. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

“Can we turn the light off?” 

“Of course.” She moves slowly to the lamp. “Where’d you wanna sit?” 

You contemplate and decide to go across your apartment to your bed, climbing under the thin, moth-eaten sheets. The last thing you see is Tess’s kind face before the apartment is bathed in shadows again. She slips into a strip of moonlight to grab your chocolate from the couch and then joins you, her presence warming the cold bed. 

“C’mere.” She holds her arm out, and you snuggle into her chest, lacing your legs between hers. With her arms around you, she peels the chocolate wrapper apart and takes out one of the peanut butter cups. “Have to eat chocolate on your birthday. It’s the law.”

You let out a subdued laugh and take the cup if only to please her. “You have the other one.”

“They’re yours. Save it for tomorrow.”

“You have to share chocolate on your birthday,” you deadpan. “It’s the law.”

Tess rolls her eyes but takes out the other cup, nibbling the corner before letting out a groan. “God, I’ve missed these things.”

The sweet, nutty smell reminds you of old memories. Theatres and picnics and long car journeys. “My sister ate so many of these that she threw up once,” you confess, smiling at the thought of her aggressive sweet tooth. “Outside the movie theatre, too, with everyone watching.”

Tess grins. “Yikes.”

“She still got another three packs on the way home.”

Her chuckle vibrates against you, and for a moment, things don’t feel so heavy. You’re able to think fondly of that time, rather than with bitterness and loss. You can think of your sister, miss her, and yet still somehow breathe. You take a ginger bite of chocolate and another wave of emotion hits you, but you stay upright in the force of it. You have Tess to hold onto. 

“As good as I remember,” you admit. 

Tess only hums, stroking your hair with her free hand. 

“I’m sorry,” you continue, looking up at her. She has a fleck of peanut butter on her lips, and you use the pad of your thumb to wipe it away without really thinking about how intimate a gesture it is. “I know I seem cold and distant sometimes. It’s only because I’m trying not to break in front of you. We all have our shit, and you handle yours… so fucking well, Tess. I feel… guilty that I can’t always do the same. Like, if you can be okay, I should be, too.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “That’s the stupidest shit you’ve ever said.”   

You snort through another mouthful of chocolate. 

“I’m serious,” she insists. “I got why you’d close off on me before, when things were casual. But I’m not casual about this anymore. I need to know when you’re not okay. And for the record, the only reason I seem okay most of the time is because you make me feel okay. More than okay. I was so lost and empty before you. You reminded me how to live.” She wipes the tears from your face as you soak in the tender words. 

“Well, shit,” is all you can murmur for a moment.

Another laugh burbles from Tess. “Yeah, shit.” 

You shift against her to look at her properly, tracing the outline of her chin with sticky fingers. “I feel the same. Of course I do. You’re home to me now.”

Her smile falls slowly as her eyes glint, showing you all the things both of you are too afraid to say. It only occurs to you then, after twenty years of pain and suffering, that you’re allowed to feel something else. Something good. You want to, even. You lick your lips, putting down the chocolate to trace the outline of Tess’s stomach, right up to the swell of her breasts. Maybe you need the distraction. Maybe you just need to feel something other than fear. Maybe you need to show her just how much she means to you. Either way, your chest flutters and you adjust your legs between hers, moving higher until you feel the apex of her thighs against yours. 

She knows what you need instantly and kisses you, roughly and softly, slowly yet hurried. She tastes like chocolate and peanut butter and she is rewriting your tragic little life, your loss and your grief, so that now Reese’s is this, her. So that now the taste isn’t bitter, but sweet.

“Let me take care of you tonight,” she says. 

You can only nod, rolling over and arching your back as she begins to place delicate kisses down your neck, across your collarbone. It takes her eons to get to peel up your T-shirt and kiss your stomach, right down to the waistband of your trousers, but you bask in every moment because you know she’s trying to show you, too.

I love you, you want to say. I love you and it’s terrifying, because I could lose you. But you can’t, so you twine your fingers through her hair instead, pulling her back up to you to kiss her again. Feel her again.

“Please,” you plead, desperate for everything she can give. Anything to take you from the darkness. 

Tess doesn’t need you to elaborate. She slips her hand under your waistband and presses gently on your clit, causing the heat in your belly to coil like a spring. Your breath hitches in your throat, and she swallows it with another kiss. 

“I got you,” she’s whispering as she begins to circle that sensitive spot slowly. She sucks on your jaw, teeth nipping at your lobe as you arch into your pleasure. She draws your wetness up while sinking into your chest and caressing your breasts with her free hand, and you wish you’d had the forethought to take off your clothes. You’re in too deep now, too lost in the bliss to move an inch. 

“Tess,” you breathe, hands tangling in the sheets as she slips a finger inside you, using her thumb to keep rolling across your clit. You buck your hips, and her eyes grow bright as she watches. 

“Good girl. Take what you need from me.” 

“You,” you say. “I need you. So much.” You’re no longer just talking about this, not even when she plunges a second finger into your sex and you gasp roughly. You begin to roll your hips, desperate for more. A tear slips down your cheek, this time not born from sadness, but something else. Something you can’t put a name to. You only know it consumes you in moments like this, when Tess is here, giving you everything, every piece of her. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” Tess rasps, tugging your trousers down, down, until she can kiss your thighs. “So fucking perfect.”

You pinch your own nipple as you feel your climax build to bursting, moving faster, harder, against Tess’s fingers as they fill you up. Your walls clench against her when she nips at your skin. “I’m yours,” she’s saying. “I’m yours, baby.” 

The words tip you over the edge, and you cry out, legs shaking, as you come hard around her fingers, whimpering her name over and over as you ride out the high. When your hips finally slow, you realise your cheeks are damp with more than just sweat, but you grow limp and lack the energy to wipe away your tears. Tess places a final kiss just above your clit, causing you to spasm again, before she returns to the pillow beside you. Her features are honey-soft, and she uses the back of her hand to dry your tears when she sees them. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” you say softly. “Just…” It’s hard to say, but you force it out because you want to. Because you need her to know. “I’m yours, too, y’know. I…” You can’t, even now.

You don’t have to. Tess cuddles up to you, tracing the shape of your brows and looking at you like you might be the only source of sunlight in this endless night. 

“I know,” she says, and you know she does. Know she must see it on your face, too. “I know. It doesn’t need to be said.” 

Your lids are heavy, and you let them close as your breathing begins to even out. 

“I do, too,” is the last thing you hear before you dose off. A confession, an answer, a lifeline. 

Yours.

#tess servopoulos x you #tess fic #tess servopoulos x reader #tess servopoulos #tess x reader #tess servopoulos hbo #tess servopoulos imagine #the last of us hbo #tess servopoulos one shot #tess servopoulos fic #tess one shot #the last of us #the last of us fic #hbo the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us series #tlou show #tlou #tlou fic #tlou imagine #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou one shot #x reader #x reader imagine #multifandom imagines #multi fandom imagines #multifandom #imagines #fanfiction

[helladirections]

Moka Pot

Author: @helladirections Pairing: Harry x YN Status: Complete Oneshot Word Count: 2.2K

Request: Do you think you can maybe do y/n and Harry having a slow morning routine? Like drinking tea together, doing skin together, basically just doing everything together? 

Read below or on AO3 or Wattpad

Historically, YN hated mornings. 

She always had, and she figured she always would. Honestly, who could possibly enjoy them? Going from a warm, cozy, blissful sleep to an uncomfortable awakening by either a rude alarm, and obnoxious ray of hot sun, or unacceptable voices in the house. She always woke up at the worst possible moment, right when something really great was going to happen in her dreams. For hours she would be groggy and cranky, and no amount of coffee or tea could ever elevate her mood. Holding a scowl on her face, all her friends and family knew not to speak unless spoken to when she was around and it was before noon. 

But everything changed with Harry. Because with Harry, every hour of the day was cozy and blissful. There were never enough hours to spend with him, to talk to him, to cuddle with him, to just be next to him. She found herself staying up until odd hours of the night only to wake up earlier than she ever thought possible, even if it just meant lying on her side and staring at him while he slept. She would kiss the creases on his forehead until his nose sniffled just a little, at which point she would wake him up with a soft kiss to lips. 

He was the only person who had ever woken her up without an immediate slap to the shoulder or threat of a kick to the balls. When he woke up first and carefully eased her into waking up herself with gentle strokes of her hair, kisses on her neck, and whispers in her ear, she only held that old frown for a split second before realizing it was Harry who was next to her. She would roll over quickly and with her eyes still closed, find his lips and seal them together with her own, despite the morning breath they were both likely carrying. 

Every morning they spent together was a little bit of the same, and a little bit different, which YN liked because although the ease of routine was comforting at times, it could also leave her feeling like she was stuck in an endless cycle. Harry was sure to make sure she never felt that way, always being a morning person he typically had some sort of plan for the first few hours of their day together. 

Many mornings, they would lie in bed together for hours on end, talking and giggling and enjoy each other’s presence. Maybe she would share her dreams with him - they were always quite vivid and insanely weird, and they always made him laugh. Like the time she dreamt she was in charge of building a high school but suddenly knew no numbers at all and had to measure things by giraffes. Or the time she was inside an old video game from her childhood and all the other players were there, building the world around them from the inside. Or the time she was back in college and for some reason had a statue of a young celebrity’s mother, which came to life and gave her advice before a test. 

Maybe they would talk about their future together. About the house and the dog and the family; where in the world they would like to settle down when it was time. Or about the adventures they would take before reaching that stage in life, traveling the world together and enjoying new experiences together. Perhaps they would go wine tasting in Italy, or swim with the dolphins in the Caribbean, or learn a new language together just for the fun of it. 

One time they spent hours debating the possibility and nuances of what it would be like to have a pet kangaroo. Would they actually be able to pet it? Train it? What would they feed it? Was there a way to have it domesticated ethically? Where on earth would they be able to get one from if they weren’t living in Australia? Would they allow it to breed just so they could see the babies hide in its pouch? What would the landlord say when he found out, or would they have to buy their own house with a big yard and hire a professional landscaper to make sure the environment was to its liking? 

Some mornings, they skipped the talking all together, and instead just cuddled close. This was especially common in the winters, when it was never quite warm enough under the blankets and YN made it clear that the only thing on earth that could get her cozy enough would be Harry’s arms, and his chest, and his hot breath on the back of her neck. They would stay like that for as long as both of them wanted, sometimes drifting back into sleep and other times listening to music float softly through the windows when their neighbor was teaching piano lessons. She taught children so the quality of the music was rather hit or miss, but the effort was always there. 

YN’s favorite mornings, however, were the ones when Harry woke her up with gentle strokes of his fingers or his tongue. He was always trying his best to make her feel as good as he could, and he always delivered. Sometimes it would feel so good that her eyes never actually opened, going from closed and sleeping to closed out of pleasure. Harry’s warm tongue playing with her clit, sucking hard between his cheeks as his fingers worked her from the inside. He knew her body well by this point, and always provided exactly what she needed. One of her hands would fly down to grasp his hair tightly, the other to the side of her face, gripping the pillow like her life depended on it. 

When he brought her to her peak, he wouldn’t stop. Harry always made sure to help YN ride out her orgasms, dragging them out to last as long as they possibly could. He wouldn’t move his head or his fingers away from her sweet center until she was pushing him, oversensitive and whining. At which point he would crawl up her body, throwing the blankets aside, and kiss her deeply, making sure she could taste herself on his tongue. 

On occasion, YN would return the favor, but more often than not they both craved the same thing. Harry would line himself up with her, his lips still on hers or his head tucked into her neck leaving soft little nibbles, and push into her deep and slow. With her body already on high alert, YN would gasp as he bottomed out, moaning and groaning and whining as he worked. Her hands would find purchase on his back, scratching lightly, or not so lightly, as pleasure surrounding her. His weight, his smell, his voice, and his cock tucked deep inside of her overwhelmed her senses. To be surrounded by Harry was her favorite thing. 

When they conversation or cuddles or pleasure was over, YN would lean over to her nightstand where there was always a glass of water and a small bowl of vitamins or medicines which Harry made sure to place out the night before. When she lived alone, YN always forgot to take her morning medicine. But Harry was protective and only wanted the best for her, so took it upon himself to ensure there was no chance of missing a dose, and even started her on several vitamins which he swore by.

After swallowing down her pills in one big gulp, it was typically time for the shower. Depending on their moods, they might shower together or separately. They both valued their alone time, a bit of space to be alone with their thoughts. But theta always appreciated being together. Sometimes they would wash themselves, having a normal conversation or even standing in silence as they took turns beneath the running water. Other times, they would wash each other, taking advantage of the opportunity to run their hands all over the other and appreciate the curves and the bends, the hard muscles and the soft spots, all the places they loved to admire. On occasion they would get carried away, going for another orgasm, or two, or three, taking advantage of the easy cleanup that the shower provided. 

After they were clean whether it was together or alone, Harry would be there to help wrap YN up in a soft fluffy towel, kissing her forehead lightly until she gifted him with her giggle. Most mornings he would help her with her hair, spraying or fingering various products into her soft strands, then brushing them through lightly. In the winter he would assist with blow drying, but in the summer he would just run his fingers through until it began to dry on its own. 

They would get dressed, at least partially, before meeting up at the sink. Their skincare routines had merged until they were using mostly the same products. Harry wouldn’t settle for YN using less than the best. Side by side they would use cleansure, serums, and moisturizers, all with fresh and clean scents that Harry loved. He reminded her of how much he loved them each day by kissing all around her face until she had to push him away because he was just getting her face oily all over again. 

While they didn’t go so far as to share a tooth brush, they did share a toothpaste which left them each with minty fresh breath and bright white teeth. YN smiled as she watched Harry brush beside her, always giddy when he exposed his little front baby bunny teeth to her. Although it was best when they came out due to a smile or laughter, she would take what she could get. After spitting, they would each rinse and then end the routine with a kiss to the lips. 

For breakfast, they would typically take turns cooking. Harry made the best french toast, but he claimed that YN’s pancakes were to die for. While one was cooking, the other would lean against the counter, or sit on it, chatting away. Although they had been together for years, they never seemed to run out of things to talk about. Be it the news, or their families, or friends, or strange things they had on their minds in the morning. YN thought Harry looked so cute when he would wear his little apron to cook for her, she constantly reminded him. 

When breakfast was almost ready to be served, whoever wasn’t cooking would be in charge of coffee and tea. They would turn on the electric kettle or set up the Moka Pot for coffee, depending on the request of the other.  Harry would often tease YN that she took both her coffee and her tea with too much sweetness in it, only to go back on his comments and admit that it was clearly because she was so sweet herself and simply needed to replenish each morning. 

YN had never used a Moka pot before meeting Harry, but she found him to be a bit of a morning-hot-drinks snob and surprised him with the specialty pot as a gift. The morning she handed it to him, he looked at her with a quirked brow before unwrapping the bow. He returned her ‘just because gift’ with a gift of his own, placing her up on the counter, spreading her legs, and drinking up all the sweetness she would give to him. He said she was sweet, nearly as sweet as her coffee after she added sugar and chocolate and milk and other goodies into it. She would smile at the memory of that morning each time she used the pot, always sure to leave an extra kiss on his lips. 

Across the breakfast table from each other, sometimes they would continue their chat, or listen to the piano from outside, or read the paper. They had several papers delivered to their house each day, but only read about one a day. Harry had created a rotation so they would get full coverage of the world’s events as well as information about the local goings on. Sometimes Harry would hold the local paper up and comment about the new park opening down the street, or how the high school had won a big game against the rival, or about a new proposition that would be on the ballot soon. Other times he would grumble about the government, and how they couldn’t figure out how to do the right thing even when it was right in front of them. He could never understand why it was so hard for these elected (and unelected) officials to do what was best for their people. 

If it was a work day, they would soon have to part ways, but never without a special moment together. Sometimes Harry would hold YN close, kissing her nose over and over just to see it crinkle beneath his touch. Other times she would sit on his lap on the couch in a less gentle way, reminding him of what he was going to be coming home to. But most often, it was deep, passionate kiss up against the back of the front door, leaving both of them panting more than they should for that early in the morning. They were teasing themselves, and they knew it, but it was always worth it to remember the feeling of their lips against each other in the morning when there was a difficult meeting or conversation at work. Knowing what they were coming home to always made it worth it. 

So YN didn’t hate mornings anymore. In fact, they were often her favorite parts of the day. They meant spending time with Harry in their own little bubble which no one else could intrude on. No other obligations would ever get in the way of their first few hours together. Because she loved Harry, and Harry made her love any hour of the day where she was around him. 

#writing #yo

[jackdaw-sprite]

Fic Author Self Rec

I got pinged by @murphy-kitt in the fic authors self rec (Thank you!) so here we are a couple of days later.

I actually only have 14 published works on AO3, and one of them is a collab so unlike some I don't have too many to be indecisive over! This did not keep me from being indecisive.

The Horologist's Paradox

Summary: A quiet little domestic lost time oneshot where Danny lives with Clockwork. That doesn't mean that everything is good. Clockwork in particular has some regrets.

Reasoning: This is my most recent complete fic, and there's a bit of a recency bias in my head. But also I love how I balanced the domesticity and Clockwork's inhuman nature in it, and finally managed to include some more of Clockwork's snark in a characterization that still made him care deeply about Danny and be soft with him. The build to Clockwork's fantasy of fixing Danny feels properly slow to me, and I loved writing it -- I wrote most of that fantasy in a single night, compared with a few hundred words here and there for the rest of it.

A confession: I decided on submitting the 'Danny discovers his insides are turning into clockwork' prompt for phight before writing this. The prompt got so far into my brain that I needed to write it (well,something related :)) myself. Well. More than I already had. I do have a lot of WIPs :D

Funerary Rites (ongoing)

Summary: Alternate portal incident. To save his parents' lives, Danny agrees to a deal with the fae who tends the veil after they rend a hole in it.

Reasoning: I'm happy with the writing thus far, but really this is more on my list because of how much I'm looking forward to writing the rest of it. Unlike everything else on this list, this is incomplete and very slow going -- the planned character interactions are difficult to write and it's only going to get worse as things, uh. Get worse. The outline for this thing is 13k words, about 7k of which is specifically for the incident in question. The moment I reread the outline it bores directly into my head again and inflicts me with more Thoughts.

Mare

Summary: Danny goes on a fetch quest to the moon. A ten years later fic, set in a spirit world au somewhat inspired by Natsume's book of friends.

Reasoning: While this fic ended up being about moving on, growing up, (not) letting go, and the fear of change it started as an excuse to just go completely nuts with description, which I consider one of my strong suits in writing. It shows! The pacing here is honey-slow but I still adore a lot of the description I used. I'm going to indulge in copying a scrap from the start, in fact:

At his left, the swells of hills and mountains began to sway, as the boughs of the forest covering it caught in a breeze. In the razor-edged light, the leaves gleamed silver and for long minutes it was as though Danny were flying between not one but two seas: one a mirror, and one of blades. In the real world, neither existed. The lunar soil was barren and dry. But Danny hadn't existed in the real world for a long time.

Cosmic Horror

Summary: Clockwork comforts Danny in the wake of the cloning incident. But Clockwork is not human, nor anything close to it, and his lair is vast and deep.

Reasoning: This was my first published fic for the fandom, and really I'm still fond of it! Again the description here is a strong point but it's less of a vivid spirit world situation and more of an eldritch god that loves Danny situation.

Solanum

Summary:

After she mentions that one of her tomatoes isn't doing well, Danny and Tucker decide to cheer Sam up by sneaking a replacement tomato plant into her greenhouse. It does not go well.

Short and sweet, at just under a thousand words.

Reasoning: Really I just like how light this was, and how fun! Most of my stuff is varying shades of fucked up and most of that is lost time. This is just Danny and Tucker meaning well but not really thinking things through, and not really knowing anything about plants.

As for tags... here are some no-pressure tags:

@gamma-radio-dp @strawberrycamel @reading-wanderer @datawyrms @seaglass-skies @echoghost1

#me talking #tag game #well sort of #danny phantom #long post

[michinnyun]

could you maybe write more wanda comfort? both your wanda fics are so comforting for me. anything of wanda taking care of reader or something idk. no pressure!!

me when i see y'all request more wanda comfort

okay I'm reading this back and realizing this is not so much Wanda comfort as it is Wanda domestic fluff. idk man when i write for her i just get possessed into not fulfilling the prompt. SORRY. i'm really proud of this though. and i'm gay

Mrs. Maximoff

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader

Summary: Are we all depressed LMAO

Tags: Fluff × Domestic Fluff × Date Night × Date Night Gone Wrong × inappropriate use of wanda's powers × you know what i might use that tag in future fics × eyes emoji × Comfort × ruining dinner × i have no idea what else to tag this as × request × hi

Words: 1.4 k

Ao3 link

It amazes you how many things Wanda can squeeze into her day.

She’ll manage to keep the entire house clean, make breakfast lunch and dinner for herself and the twins, and still look as fresh as a spring morning while simultaneously protecting the planet from magical and extraterrestrial threats.

You think she’s going to ask you to move in with her.

It’s a little scary, but not because you aren't ready to do it. You just don't want to be dead weight. You aren't sure how you’re going to fit into her routine.

You don’t tell her this, because she'd probably think you're being silly. “The boys love you,” she’d say. “I love you. That’s all that matters.”

Yeah. She’s amazing.

You want to do something nice for her, after all her hard work. After everything she’s been through.

Your apartment is modest compared to her neat home in the suburbs. Tonight’s date night, and Wanda called a babysitter to watch the boys. You’re waiting for her to come by, fidgety. You check the time on your phone every five minutes, even though she’s not due for another hour and a half.

You’re making paprikash, which is cheesy of you, but you know it’s her favorite. It reminds her of a home that's long gone. You stir periodically, checking the spices to make sure it tastes right. You got sweet paprika from the Eastern European market a couple blocks away over a week ago in nervous anticipation.

You’ve gone out of your way to make everything perfect. The living room is clean, your bed is made, everything is as neat as you can get it to be in this tiny, cramped space. You even bought flowers, which are cut and sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter.

So yes, everything is perfect.

And then the power goes out.

__

It’s out for the entire building. People are gathered in the first floor office, demanding to know what’s going on.

Unfortunately, you live in a world constantly disrupted by superheroes and aliens. You don't know why the other tenants of your building haven't been expecting something like this. You just want to know when the lights are going to come back on so that you can treat your girl to a special night.

Wanda walks in through the front door of the building at that precise moment, turning heads. She’s wearing light wash jeans and a cardigan, like some sort of PTA supermom, which you guess she kind of is. Your heart pounds in your chest.

“It's the Scarlet Witch!” a little boy tells his mother, tugging on her pants leg excitedly and pointing at your girlfriend.

You rush over to her before she can be crushed by the mob, taking her hand and running towards the stairwell illuminated by emergency lights.

“What’s going on?” she asks as you drag her up the stairs.

“Power went out,” you explain, out of breath. “My landlord’s hiding. We probably won’t have lights until tomorrow.”

You feel horrible. Tonight was supposed to be perfect, and of course life had to get in the way.

“Hey,” she says, stopping you on your mission up the stairs. She cages you against the wall, holding your cheeks in her palms. “It’s okay. We can light some candles! It’ll be romantic.” She smiles, tilting her head the way she does when she's trying to be cute.

It works. You nod. She kisses your nose. “Okay,” you whisper, letting her press a quick kiss to your mouth.

You’re buoyed by the hope that this night isn't totally unsalvageable. There’s only a few more stairs to take, and then the night can finally start.

Then you reach your floor, sniffing. There’s a burning smell coming from the direction of your apartment.

“No, no, no, no,” you murmur, hurrying to unlock the door.

Just as you suspected. The paprikash is ruined. Your heart sinks into the floor. “I thought I turned the stove off,” you groan, moving the ruined pot to an empty burner.

You put your head in your hands, lamenting your short attention span.

Wanda puts a hand on your back. “You were making paprikash?” she asks quietly. You nod, embarrassed. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmurs, folding you into her arms.

“I made noodles. They’re in the fridge. We can have those I guess,” you murmur, trying not to cry. “Plain noodles and burnt stew. This has been a total bust. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” she says, sternly. She pulls away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “What are you sorry for?”

You sigh. “You’re a full time mom and a superhero. I can't even make one meal right. How am I supposed to-” You don’t let yourself finish that sentence, growling in frustration.

“How are you supposed to…?” she asks, pecking a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

You press your lips into a thin line. “Take care of you,” you answer after a minute.

She laughs, not meanly, but still. “Don’t laugh!” you groan, throwing your hands up in the air and trudging to the stove. You take the ruined remnants of your meal and throw the whole thing in the garbage.

“Sweetheart,” she says, using her powers to lift the pot out of the trash and place it gently in the sink. It’s such a simple use of her monumentally impressive magic that you almost laugh. “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“I know,” you sigh, wringing your hands. “I know. You’re the strongest, most wonderful person I’ve ever met. Doesn’t mean I don't want to.”

Her face softens. She walks over to you slowly, like she’s trying not to frighten a wounded animal. Wanda rests her hand on top of yours.

“You’re wonderful. You know why?” She kisses you, so softly. Every kiss feels like the first time, when you were a nobody who worked security in Avengers tower, a lifetime ago. Things are so different now. Everything is different.

“Why,” you murmur, trading more sweet kisses that steal your breath.

“Because you care. You try,” Wanda lays her hands on your waist, resting her forehead against yours. “That’s enough for me.”

Now you’re really going to cry. Her lips are soft, dry. She’s wearing new perfume. Your heart skips a beat. She must have picked it out for tonight.

“I just… I want to do nice things for you. I want to be part of your life. I want to make things a little easier.”

She chuckles and says your name fondly. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life is never easy. All I need is you and the twins. You make it all worth it.”

You sigh, nuzzling your nose against hers.

“Just, you know. You wouldn't be my first pick for housewife of the year,” she jokes. You slap her arm.

“I knew that was coming,” you say, trudging to your closet where you keep your unscented candles.

“Aww, come back,” she complains, wrapping her arms around you from behind in the dark. “I didn’t mean it honey, I think you’re so good at being a housewife.”

“Yeah?” you say, igniting your lighter and illuminating your face in the soft light. “Want me to try making dinner again?” She hesitates. “You are so full of shit, Maximoff.”

Wanda laughs, and you laugh with her. She has this way of making everything better. Lighter. You love her for it.

She ruffles your hair. “Let’s order a pizza, Mrs. Maximoff.”

You pause, the flame flickering in your hand. Wanda freezes too, as if just realizing what she said.

“I-”

“Don’t apologize,” you say quickly. “Don’t take it back. I liked it. I-I want that.”

She gasps softly, her long lashes fluttering against your hair.

“I’ve been married before,” she says quietly.

“I know.”

“It wasn’t the most traditional union.”

“I know,” you turn around, holding the candle between you. It lights on her face, flickering, insecure. Uncertain. “I don't care what you did, Wanda. I know about it all, and I still want you.” You place your hand under her chin, tilting her mouth to yours.

“How?” she asks after a minute of terse silence.

You shrug. “Like you said, life isn't easy. You had a lot going on. I wish I could’ve been there for you. But I’m here now. I’m not leaving.”

She bites her bottom lip, and you resist the urge to tug it out of hiding with your teeth. To show her how much you mean what you’re saying. Maybe later. She needs to eat something first.

“Let’s order a pizza,” you say before sealing your lips together in a short kiss. “Mrs. Maximoff.”

#my fic #request #i was thinking abt elizabeth olsen's hot ones episode a lot while writing this actually #how is she literally invincible #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #mcu #scarlet witch x you #reader insert

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ just some tooth-rottingly domestic aziraphale looks after his crowley fluff. ft. snek-vibes-crowley my beloved

read on AO3

-

“Crowley, dear, try this –”

Crowley knows the drill by now. He leans over the counter and lets Aziraphale press the spoon to his lips.

“Better,” he says. “I still think more chili.”

“Yes, well. Some of us enjoy treating our tastebuds with a little respect.”

“Nah,” Crowley scoffs and screws up his nose, letting his snake tongue flicker out for good measure. “Builds character.”

It’s at that moment he sees through the nook the true extent of Aziraphale’s newest hobby. It’s positively taken over their little kitchen. Pots and pans and baking tins cover every conceivable surface and then some. Some are bubbling and frying away, others halfway into storage containers or with little spoonfuls taken out. What appears to be a banana cake is already most of the way gone.

“So,” he prompts. “Having fun then?”

“Oh, yes, quite.” Aziraphale’s eyes sparkle. “Besides. There’s a cold snap coming and I know how much you like to eat before a nap.”

As if on cue, Crowley’s stomach grumbles. It isn’t often he gets a hankering for food, but he has been feeling a brumation coming on for a while now and that’s as good an excuse as any to positively gorge himself. Aziraphale, for his part, hasn’t been around for many of these and he’s preparing like he’s making up for lost time. Crowley has tried to assure him that it’s no big deal, just a big sleep really, and he loves to sleep, but if he’s being honest - and he’s really, really trying to - he kind of likes the fussing. Nobody used to care about his thermostat setting and how his plants would be cared for while he slept. Now Aziraphale has miracled his beloved gramophone to play Gardeners’ Question Time.

“Which reminds me,” Aziraphale adds, “a present arrived for you today.”

Crowley raises his eyebrows. “A present?”

“You don’t have to use it,” the Angel clarifies, digging the package out amidst his various projects, “but apparently, some humans find it even more comfortable than a regular blanket. Something about the proprioceptive input?”

More comfortable? Crowley can almost feel his pupils dilate. He rips open the mailbag revealing a soft, plush throw blanket. It has a certain heft to it that feels nice in his hands, and even better when he shakes it loose and casts it over his shoulders like a cape. He’s just about ready to curl up on the floor right there and not wake up for a decade. Clever humans.

Aziraphale takes his expression for thanks enough, and beams as he waves Crowley back toward the stairs.

“Off to bed with you, then,” he urges. “Take a bowl of soup. I’ll bring you the roast and some sticky date when it’s done.”

“You’re too good to me, Angel,” Crowley purrs, reaching over the counter for the proffered bowl - in which Aziraphale has now dumped copious extra chili, as requested - and for a kiss. It tastes of tomatoes and rosemary and sweet toffee pudding.

(Yes, he thinks. He likes this very much indeed.)

#crowley x aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #good omens #gomens fic #clara's fic tag

[forgodsgoddamnsake]

Belly Dancer - 13

Excuse me, beauties but I'm not in the mood for smuts. So this one is smut free.

Warning though, angst, fluff, mention of anger issues, mention of domestic violence.

Note: we all have mental issues, so talking about it is necessary. No need to be ashamed of your issues.

--

You and Harry got out of the car right in front of the place. It was a plain building, but you imagined what it would look like when you start working on it. You wore a denim skirt, black stockings, black strapless crop-top, sneakers and a black cap over your head. Harry wore casual, he became more comfortable wearing what he actually liked, so he wore a black ripped jeans and floral shirt with a few buttons kept unbuttoned.

“Y/N!” You heard Sam’s voice squeal, pulling you into his arms tightly and spinning you around.

“Oh, god, Sam!” You laughed before he placed you down again.

It’d been a long time since you actually met him in person. Sam was a great guy, handsome, and muscular with silver hair and couple of piercings in his nose, tongue and ears. He was just a little shorter than Harry, but still definitely taller than you. Sam’s eyes were aqua blue, such a loss that he was gay.

Harry was jealous, but the fact that Sam was gay eased this feeling a little.

“It’s been so long since I last seen you, you’re getting more beautiful.” Sam gave you a wide smile, holding your hands in his.

“I know!” You laughed, grabbing him into another hug, “Your hair looks amazing, last time I saw you it was blue.” You brushed his hair a little after pulling away from the hug.

“And your hair grew longer, must be an advantage in bed.” He winked at you and you laughed at his comment.

Harry coughed, catching you and Sam’s attention. Sam’s eyes widened when he looked at Harry, letting go of your hands, getting closer to Harry.

“Oh my! Is this the guy that had you wrapped around his little finger?” Sam asked, eyeing Harry from head to toe. “You and I are friends from this moment on.” Sam directed his smile to Harry, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Oh! Hi, Sam.” Harry was startled by the hug, but he was polite enough to not push him away.

“We’re gonna have a lot to talk about after we finish our little tour. I have many embarrassing stories to tell about y/n when we first met.” Sam said, pulling away from Harry.

“Sounds great.” Harry smiled back at Sam.

“C’mon let’s go.” Sam encouraged, walking towards the place. You and Harry walked hand in hand and entered the place, Sam leading the way.

“I know it doesn’t look great now and you have so many things to do so this place lightens up, but I think it’s a good catch.” Sam told, pointing at the large space where the main center of the club should be. You and Harry eyed the place.

“It’s three-story, there’s the stage, much bigger than the one’s at the club you work at.”

The stage was actually bigger and wider, not too high but high enough so everyone could watch whoever on the stage without having to raise their heads up all the way.

“See this spacious shit is where the dance floor should be, so close to the stage so you can shine bright like a diamond.” Sam sang the last part, you giggled, leaving Harry’s hand to walk freely.

“Here, you can have the bar.” Sam walked to show you the place of the bar before walking you to where the bathrooms should be.

“The bathrooms need a little more work I know, but believe me, sweetness, they’re so huge you can have another dance floor there.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, the ladies’ and men’s bathrooms were huge. Sam walked you and Harry towards the backstage.

“There are like five rooms backstage for all of your dancers, there’s a sixth one, it’s down the hall. There are two bathrooms for the staff also.” Sam said, opening the doors for all five rooms, showing you the space of the rooms.

“What’s different about the sixth?” You asked, walking behind Sam while Harry was walking behind you.

Sam smirked as he turned around to look at you behind him is a room door, “It’s bigger than my whole apartment,” With that, he opened the door for the last room.

The room was huge, there was a private bathroom in the room, a minibar, a space where you could have a dressing room and another space for an office.

“Wow!” You stepped in the room, imagining yourself in there.

“I know!” Sam squealed.

“What about the two other floors?” Harry asked more like a business man.

“Your word is my command! Follow me.” Sam smiled widely, walking you out the room and to an elevator. You three got into the elevator and it stopped shortly when you reached the second floor, you got out.

“As you told me, y/n/n, this is where VIP Gold should take place. Private bathrooms, private bar, you name it!.”

It was an empty huge space, there was A LOT of work to be done. Sam got you back in the elevator and it stopped again in the third and last floor.

“VIP Platinum, lady and gentleman.”

The floor was bigger than the second, but still, the place was nothing to be wowed about the way it was.

When you finished your tour, you got down to the first floor, Sam didn’t stop talking for a second.

“You have a private garage, the place is really a catch, y/n/n.”

You crossed your arms, walking in the place, “How much did the landlord ask for, Sam?”

“Well, this is the problem.” Sam looked nervous, but was stopped as there was a fourth figure entering the place. A middle-aged man walked in.

“Hello, this is Isaac McChain, the landlord. You must be Ms. Y/L/N.” His voice was hoarse and his hand was expanded to shake yours.

“Yes, thank you for your time, Mr. McChain. We were taking a tour in the place.” You shook his hand, but he wouldn’t let your hand go. The man gave you a smirk, and you knew that he was undressing you in his head.

“Harry Styles, Ms. Y/L/N’s boyfriend.” Harry pulled out his hand to the man, glaring at him. His hand was on your waist, pulling you close into him.

Sam was standing a little away, mumbling to himself, “Clash of the titans.”

Isaac had to let go of your hand and shake Harry’s, putting on the most fake smile you’d ever seen. They pulled their hands away just a second after, maybe because Harry almost crushed the man’s hand.

“I hope you liked the place.” Isaac said, looking at you.

“Well, not so much. It’s huge, I’ll give you that, but the work to be done here is beyond imagination. How much exactly do you price this place?” You pulled on your business woman attitude. That was one of Sam’s most favorite scenes, seeing you act tough. Isaac chuckled a little, he was trying to act tough as well, but you wouldn’t fall for it. He gave you the price with a smirk on his face.

“Uh-huh, well that’s too much for a place that requires the same amount to fix. The bathrooms are in a terrible condition, the stage could fall down if a feather stepped on it and don’t get me started with the second and third floors” You went on and on with all the bad things you caught during your tour.

“But you can easily afford all the work, Ms.Y/L/N. An extraordinary dancer like you clearly can appreciate the whereabouts of the building.”

“An extraordinary dancer like me, Mr. McChain, can clearly find another good place just like yours for half the price.”

“So, you suggest that I cut half the price?”

“I’m not saying that, but we can reach an arrangement we both agree on. I’ve made my research; three-story buildings prices are way lower than the price you put for your building. Approximately by fifty grands, I can use these fifty grands to fix the place, don’t you think?”

Harry was amazed by the way you spoke in a professional tone, standing your ground.

“You’re quite a business woman, Ms. Y/L/N.” Isaac said.

You smiled, expanding your hand to shake his. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. McChain.”

You looked over to Sam who wished he had popcorn, “Sam, get the contracts ready with Mr. McChain.”

--

“God, have you seen her? She had him back off by more than fifty grands!” Sam enthusiastically yelled, cheering Harry with his glass of wine.

“That was a total success, y/n.” Harry smiled at you.

You three were having drinks at the bar Sam talked about, you were sitting at a table, celebrating signing the contract for your new club.

“Success? Dude, she outdone herself.” Sam was so happy for you. You noticed how you chose your friends, all of them were happy for you whenever you had something great happening in your life.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Sam. You really did a very great job.” You patted his shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“You know I’ve got your back, Y/N/N.”

“How did you guys meet?” Harry asked, his hand on your thigh, drinking from his glass.

“Now he won’t shut up.” You giggled just as Sam’s eyes widened in excitement.

“Okay let me tell you! I went to this dance class downtown, a friend told me that they give belly dancing classes and I went and guess who was my teacher?”

“Teacher?” You arched a brow at Sam.

Without even giving the slightest attention to you, Sam continued directing his words to Harry, “She was very sweet and friendly. Had to have a friend like her in my collection.”

Harry chuckled and looked at you, “I didn’t know you gave dancing classes.”

“I still do, why do you think I leave at the same time three days a week?” You sipped from your glass of martini.

“Harry, honey, I practically forced her to work her ass off so we could take another step forward. She always wanted to sit on her ass and do nothing.” Sam laughed as you gave him the finger.

“I admit it, you made me work for months with no days off you little shit.” You shrugged.

“But you didn’t like seeing guys belly dancing, now I know you actually teach them?” Harry asked, enjoying catching you in the act.

“I’m hurt.” Sam had a hand on his chest as if he was actually hurt.

“Shut up, Sam! You already know how I feel about guys belly dancing.”

“Well, yeah, but it still hurts.” He smirked at you.

“I’ll have to go to the bathroom before I hit you with something.” You rolled your eyes, standing up and walking towards the bathrooms.

“Tell me about you, green eyes.” Sam asked Harry.

“What would you like to know about me?”

“Y/n didn’t talk much about you, since we worked together most of our talks were business. How did you meet?”

“I, ugh, I saw her dance at the club, messed with her a little and the next thing I know we’re dating.”

“When she told me that she met someone, it was kinda weird. Y/N was used to guys and girls hitting on her, but she preferred being a lone wolf.”

“Believe me, I know how much she gets hit on. I may need to make her wear a shirt with my face on it.” They both laughed until the laughter went down.

“I’ll give you a secret if you promise to keep it.” Sam said in a serious tone and Harry nodded. “I don’t know if you noticed, y/n has many friends. Mostly me, Jessica and Noah are the ones that deeply worry about her, she doesn’t have any family to lean on. Y/N only has her friends, that’s why she tries her best to keep us and never let us go, she treats us like family. She did something for Jessica that perhaps not many people will do.”

“Yeah, I know, Noah told me.” Harry nodded as Sam continued.

“And now you’re looking at the guy who paid his tuition thanks to y/n. She gave me this job and paid me generously when she knew that I was facing some serious trouble paying off the tuition. So, what I want to say is,” Sam’s face got serious like a father’s face, meeting his girl’s boyfriend, “If you play her, God forgive me for what I’ll do.”

--

Not that your friends didn’t like Harry, but they were so worried about you they couldn’t let you get hurt anymore, especially as they knew about your mental status. You couldn’t afford having your heart broken again.

Jessica saw most of it, she’d spend days trying to calm you down from a mental breakdown. While Sam would watch your every move to make sure that you were protected, or didn’t kill anyone.

You weren’t the best person. But you knew how to keep your friends.

You were an amazing friend to say the least, you listened to them, helped them, stood by their side, and most importantly, you fought for them. You fought physically for your friends whenever there would be an issue with another person. Sam was bullied some day at a bar when he accidentally ran into some of his high school bullies, they tried pulling him by the pants calling him the F word. You broke the bottle of beer you had and threatened the guy bullying Sam with it. Violence was not something you chose every day, but you had to choose it to protect yourself and friends against violent people.

--

You, Harry, Jess, Noah, Sam and Sam’s boyfriend Rian decided to take a trip and go for a hike, stay in a cabin and have fun. You rented a place to stay for two nights in a nice cabin that could fit all of you. You asked Harry if Michael could come and have some fun as well and he was fond of the idea, so you called Michael asking if he could join. Michael was happy to know that he was included, you thought that the best option to keep everything going smoothly is to include Michael, so he’d be sure that his friend didn’t replace him.

Harry was driving you, his hand on your thigh as usual. The drive was calm and silent except from the background music, but Harry wanted to break the silence, “Your friends are a handful.”

You giggled, “Why’s that? They’re fun.”

“They are, but they worry so much about you, Sam threatened me.”

“I knew it!” You exclaimed. “Don’t mind them, baby, they caught a few bad qualities from me.”

“So you threaten people a lot?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Mean people.”

“Can I ask you a question, but don’t get offended, please.”

“Sure?”

“You always told me that you were a violent person, but I don’t see that. Why do you always have to remind me about that?”

You sighed, “Defense mechanism.”

“But violence shouldn’t be an option.”

“If you were raised like me, you wouldn’t see that.”

“Then tell me.”

“I never was a violent person, but I grew up in a violent home. My father used to hit us most of the time, and he wasn’t alcoholic or drug addict. It was who he was, that’s way worse, there’s nothing to blame the violence on. And some day, I hit my sister so bad, I put all of the violence I faced on her. Do you know what my father told me when he knew? He said that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. I swore that I never lay a finger on any person unless they start it. My sister forgave me, and I never did something like that again.”

“You don’t sound as a violent person, you’re hurt and that’s understandable.”

“Weird that you don’t sound as a violent person though you work as an arms dealer.”

“I grew up with my mother and sister, my father left us because my mother couldn’t accept what he was doing. She wanted to keep us safe, but here I am, keeping my father’s legacy.”

“Your mother raised you good, Harry.”

He smiled at your words, reminding himself that he was raised by a loving mother that taught him how to be a gentleman.

--

You all arrived at the same time at the cabin, it was big and had enough rooms for all of you. You and Harry got out of the car as everyone else did. You carried your bags to your rooms and then gathered in the living room, Jessica had packed meals for all of you, she liked trips and got all excited for preparing food for such occasions.

It was the first time for you to meet Rian, Sam’s boyfriend, but he was a nice guy so it didn’t take you too long to be all friendly with him. Everybody was eating their meals, you sat on Harry’s lap on an armchair, eating together while everyone else was sitting everywhere else. Sam pulled his portable speaker and connected his phone to it and turned on the song ‘Good Girls’ by 5sos and stood on his feet and pulled you off of Harry’s lap to make you dance with him.

So just turn around and forget what you saw

C’ause good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught

Sam would hold you and spin you, dance with you and soon everyone followed, dancing and laughing. Sam went towards Harry who sat there watching you dance and brought him to dance with you. Harry’s smile was getting wider when you pulled him in, hands around his neck while his were around your waist. Everyone was dancing with everyone, you and Noah danced together while Harry danced with Sam, but there was a missing person. Michael. You grabbed him by the arm off of the couch and danced together, he smiled and danced happily with you.

Soon enough the song changed, and Harry’s arms were around you once again. You could smell his cologne from a mile away, he’d catch your eyes if there were a hundred man in the same room. His touch was the only touch you knew. And he could never ask for something more from life other than having you in his arms.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Sam excitedly suggested.

“Let’s play it outside?” Noah added and everyone agreed.

It was already getting late so some of the guys helped put on a little fire to get some warmth, you sat on the ground with a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

“You filthy bitch, get off the ground.” Jessica said to you, taking a seat on a wooden rack.

“I love sitting on the ground, shut up.”

Everyone made a circle around the fire, Harry sat beside you, his arm around your shoulder.

“How do we play?” You asked.

“We take turns, I’ll start.” Sam said.

“Someone’s excited.” Jessica smirked at Sam who rolled his eyes at her.

“Noah, truth or dare?” Sam asked.

“Truth.” Noah answered.

“Wuss.” You commented and he gave you a fake disgusted look. Harry was having a beer just like everyone else.

“What’s your guilty pleasure?” Sam asked.

“Umm,” He thought about it for a second. “I still watch spongepop.”

“Ohh.” Everyone chanted and then it was Rian’s turn.

“Michael, truth or dare?” Rian asked Michael.

“Truth.” Michael answered.

“Are we in fifth grade here?” You teased Michael who looked at Harry, “Shut her up or I’ll do.” Michael said to Harry and everyone laughed.

“She can be as mean as she wants, I’m sorry.” Harry defended you, giggling.

“What’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told?” Rian got the attention back as he asked Michael.

“That’s easy, I told a girl that I didn’t love her, but I did.” Harry’s face went down as he heard Michael’s answer.

“OH god! Why?” Jessica asked.

“It’s a one question per turn, Jess.” Michael smiled sadly, sipping from his can of beer.

After Harry and Michael fixed things, Jessica and Noah met Michael many times, so they grew closer. That was why it wasn’t so weird for Michael to tag along.

“My turn!” Noah said, raising his arm. “You little bitch!” He pointed at you and you playfully flicked your hair.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

“Flash us!” Jessica chanted, and Harry glared at her.

“I don’t care if you’re her best friend, I’ll kill you.” Harry playfully threatened her and she laughed at it.

“Dance for us for one minute straight, no music.” Noah dared you and you smirked at him.

“I’ll kill you, too.” Harry said to Noah that raised his hands in surrender.

“No, I’ll do it.” You stood up and lifted the hoodie you had on a little to show off your belly. Everyone’s eyes were on you.

“Here’s our stopwatch. Go!” Sam used his phone’s stopwatch and with his signal you started dancing with your belly, not moving anything but your belly’s muscles. You swayed your waist and made waves with your belly muscles for one minute straight till the time was up. Everyone clapped when you finished and you gave them a little curtsy in the end before taking your seat next to Harry again. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as you sat down.

“Harry!” Jessica yelled and Harry’s eyes widened at her in surprise.

“What?” He yelled back at her.

“Truth or dare?” She asked with a smile.

“Dare.”

“Following your girl’s steps, good boy.” Michael commented.

“I dare you to imitate y/n.” Jessica dared and you laughed as you turned your head to look at Harry’s face who was trying hard not to laugh.

“Fine.” Harry agreed. He let go of you to sit straight, he flicked his long non-existing hair, “I’m prettier than her, Harry, right?” He softened his voice as he imitated you. He wiggled his eyebrows, “I’m a badass good girl, who you gonna leave me for?” and with that all of you laughed hard.

“I don’t say that!” You laughed, trying to defend yourself.

He brought you in closer and kissed your temple, “You do every time we fight.”

You went on with your turns until Michael asked you, “Truth or dare, y/n?”

“Truth.” You answered.

“What’s your deepest darkest secret?”

You bit your lip and flicked your hair, “Um,” You sighed, “My family disowned me.”

--

You were in your bedroom, laying on the bed. You excused yourself after answering Michael’s question and not long after, Harry had followed you, entering your room. You were naked except from your panties and the blanket covering your bare status.

“Baby, are you okay?” Harry sat down next to you, brought your head to his chest as you cried.

“Shh, everything’s going to be okay.” He calmed you, rubbing your hair, pulling you closer into his chest as you let it all out.

You cried everything. Everything that made you reach the point you were at.

Harry grabbed your head to look into your teary eyes, “I’m with you, okay?” You nodded.

And as you took your time in his arms, everything actually became okay.

“They didn’t approve of me becoming a belly dancer or leaving home, so they disowned me long time ago.” You said softly, eyes feeling heavy.

“Doesn’t matter. You are a successful, independent, beautiful woman. You don’t need them if they bring you down, they should have supported you. It’s not your fault, Rapunzel.” He rubbed your head as he held you.

“I love you.” You muttered as you fell asleep on his chest.

His eyes widened and looked at you only to see you asleep in his arms, he sighed.

“Unfortunately, I love you, too.” He whispered, kissing your forehead.

--

SO?

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry x reader #smut #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry #couples #love #couple #ily #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry x y/n

[jupiter-va]

So let’s dive in: https://www.tumblr.com/jupiter-va/720975128406704128/and-we-both-kissing-each-others-stretch-marks-ofc about her hands

Canon Abby so it would make perfect sense but the war is over and her hair growing back along with her muscles, stretch marks on reader and maybe implied that reader isn’t the skinniest and hand riding.

And as I look at it I see that it’s longer than my strap and I’m so so sorry about it but not really cuz I’m genius. BUT ACTUALLY I DO APOLOGIZE!

You and Abby already had sex few times. Not really too much, it’s a new relationship and she can’t help but get more and more jumpy, shaky and nervous when you’re having sex or get somehow intimate.

Every time she touches you, like squeezing your hips, bringing you closer or manhandling you, she immediately lets you go. Something in the back of her mind feels way to intrusive about touching you and… and what if her hands will hurt you like she did to many people before?

But as you kiss her you notice. It happened before. This might be the third time so that’s when you break. She goes stone, not really moving and her hands glued to her sides. So you broke the kiss, sitting in your knees in front of her.

‘What’s going on?’ You ask softy, your head tilted to the side. Abby wants to say something, but all she can do is to mumble some apology that you have to stop her. ‘Don’t apologize, angel. Take a deep breath, and tell me what’s going on.’ and fuck she gave in so easily.

After confessing to you, that she’s scared of hurting you because her hands were used to hurt, to build, to carry guns, to literally anything but not to anything soft and fragile like you, you tear up. You’re so proud of your girl for telling you. So you tell her, of course.

But then you ask her if she trusts you enough to try something. Of course she does. And you strip naked. Not a piece of clothing on you as you sit back in front of her on your knees, your thighs spreaded out on your heels and your pudge is out too and she almost dies at how beautiful and… human you are.

But you take her big hands in yours and place them on your thighs. ‘Don’t do anything.’ You whisper as you wander with her hands up your body. Through your thighs, and hips. She feels every dimple, pimple, scar and so so many stripes of stretch marks. She wants to remember you through her fingertips.

And then you lead her hands over the pudge of your tummy, over your waist and over every roll there. There are little tears in her eyes because you feel like a goddess to her. So soft and gentle. And because she feels like she’s touching you for the first time without hurting you.

You softly coo at her, telling her that everything is okay and that she’s doing great. Then you take a deep breath and lead her hands on your breasts. Letting Abby’s big hands to cup them and you leave them there a bit. They’re so warm and soft that Abby has to gulp. This everything was so soft but now she feels like you’re teasing her.

But then you take her hands and move them through you cleavage to your neck where she feels your heartbeat. And it’s slow, meaning you’re feeling safe and comfortable. And then her hands are on your cheeks and then your whole face and you’re hiding behind them with a warm giggle.

And oh god how much you did make her feel safe. It feels so domestic, she never wants to leave this moment with you. Then you take her hands from the other side and kiss all over them. Over her knuckles, over her palm… you’re still looking at her and the way her wet hair are falling on her cheeks make you clench around nothing.

‘See? You didn’t hurt me.’ You laugh as you press another kiss on her wrist. ‘But god you make me wet.’ You mumble more to yourself but oh her ears caught that. ‘Repeat yourself.’ And fuck you do. Anything for Abby.

‘Let me feel it, please.’ She whispers and you almost lean on your elbows and spread your legs for her but she’s shaking her head. Her hair falling over her eyes and now over her red cheeks. ‘With my hand please, just like you did.’ And her hand is just waiting for you to catch and guide.

You take her hand, spread your thighs just enough for her and your hand and suddenly it’s you who’s lost. ‘I… I really don’t know how to guide you down there. Like whole hand or should I just stick up some of your fingers or…’ you let your question die as you tuck your chin into yourself from embarrassment and you hear her softly laugh. You look at her and she has those tiny hearts in her eyes and she’s just looking at you. ‘I’ll help you with this, pretty girl.’

And then your fingers are curled around her wrist, doing little to no guide to your cunt. But then her fingers are on your heat, her fingers dipping into your folds and prodding at your entrance as you drip on her fingers. ‘You were right,’ Abby chuckles as she slowly, oh so agonizing slowly moves two of her fingers through your slit, just to bump your clit and never pay attention to it.

‘Ride my hand, pretty girl.’ She demands. You huff on the top of her, pout at her and maybe curse her in your mind, but then your hand is searching for her other hand as you’re holding yourself up with her help.

I can’t really write smut and the whole building cum thing so… she whispers what a good girl you are, just for her. How amazing you’re doing and to continue. And in a minute she’s begging you to cum all over her hand, how badly she needs to feel it.

‘There we go, good girl, keep cumming for me. Oh god, good job, baby. Shhh, breathe, jesus you’re amazing.’

Then you’re collapsed in her arms and on her chest, taking deep breaths and having drunk smile on your face.

‘Think you forgot to do me some exploration there.’ She whispers as she kisses the crown of your head and then you feel her hands wander from the back of your thighs to your ass, not squeezing it, not groping it, just her fingers tips trying to remember every dimple and stretch marks you have there.

She feels like she’s in a hurry so you remind her. Then her touch is slow. So slow that it feels like a lullaby as her fingers get on your lower back and continue up your spine. She wants to remember every pimple on your back, the way you breathe under her touch, she wants to remember you by her fingertips.

She wants to thank you, but when she hooks her fingers under your chin to bring your face to her, she’s met with your sleeping face. Your mouth ajar and your cheek squished against her breast. She smiles for herself and stroke your cheek. ‘Yeah I love you too, baby.’ She whispers to you as you whimper from your sleep.

AGAIN, I’m so so sorry how long this is! But I hope you liked it!

AWWWW No omg don't ever apologize for giving me things to read please!! I really enjoy reading what you guys write and omg you're right you are a genius for this, holy shit??

I could cry at how sweet this is. I know I mentioned that this is in fact a part of my audio "research", but I'd still like to ask for permission to use this idea in the future because I know it took some time to write this out.

The whole idea of her being nervous to hurt you has always been in the back of my mind when I record, and idk the way you described it here felt so accurate to that feeling (the feeling the need to pull back every time you touch someone that you want to be gentle with, feeling like you shouldn't be able to hold or handle anything soft/fragile etc.) Especially in the context of her just being so used to hurting people oh my god I'm lose my mind thinking about this woman, seriously

#abby anderson #abby anderson audio #xxjupiterxx