#Kissing Day at Vigil's Keep
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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 10 months ago
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Baby Daddy || Jacob Elordi x reader
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Summary: Jacob being a protective dad 😌
Warnings: fem!reader
Wc: 475
A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!
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Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.
The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.
As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.
Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.
As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.
You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.
As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.
“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.
You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.
Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”
One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.
“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”
As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.
You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.
“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.
Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.
The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”
As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.
yourusername
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Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others
👶🍼💗💋🧸
view all comments
jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️
↘️ yourusername: 💗
caileespaeny: aweee
sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭
↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!
↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃
↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.
user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child
user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂
↘️ user5: RIGHT!
↘️ user6: oh for sure.
3K notes · View notes
ovaryacted · 3 months ago
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GUARD DOG
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─ Logan Howlett/Wolverine x fem! reader || WC: 5.0k
SYNOPSIS: On another one of your joint club outings with Wade, your boyfriend Logan stands by to make sure you enjoy your night. Once you both arrive at your apartment, he tends to your needs and helps you relax.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Established Relationship. Age gap implied [Logan is his canon age, Reader is mid to late 20's]. Alcohol consumption. Kissing. Unprotected P in V. Shower sex. Fingering (f receiving). Manhandling. Biting/Marking Kink. Size Kink if you squint. Mutual fantasies of public sex. Worst!/Variant! Logan Howlett. Grumpy! Logan in public, soft! Logan in private. Wade is the third wheel who drinks for fun but can't get drunk (obvi). Descriptions of the reader's clothing (mini skirt & skimpy top). Reader is shorter than Logan in heels. Logan can pick the reader up.
A/N: Lord this was a pain in the ass to write for absolutely no reason, but I am glad it's done. Big shoutouts and thank yous to @ozarkthedog and @pedgito for reading this over and encouraging me. And also thank you to @zloshy and @studioghibelli for holding my hand and helping me out with the brainstorming process. As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy! <3
NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3
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To this day, Logan doesn’t know why he still puts up with Wade’s shit or agrees to his antics. But he doesn’t mind doing it so long as it keeps his eccentric friend off his back and keeps you happy.
The club he was brought to was loud, the air thick with the pungent stench of weed, and he swears he could distinctly sniff out cocaine in the bathrooms, irritating his nose. Bright strobe lights strained his vision, and the obnoxious pop music vibrating through the walls was anything but pleasing to his sensitive ears. Thankfully, the bar had Jack Daniels on the shelf, enough to do the job and keep himself busy.
He raises his arm to lean against the bar, sipping away at his fourth cup of whiskey, knowing that the buzz he feels will go away as quickly as it hits him. Adept eyes scanned the club, landing on your figure as you danced to the current song.
Logan admired the sway of your hips, the mini skirt you wore riding up your thighs with every pop and swivel. The low-cut top you paired it with shifted when your arms rose to the beat change, the open back showing more than enough skin to leave to the imagination. He could taste the light sheen of sweat from your neck at a distance, amplifying your natural pheromones that elevated the perfume you sprayed on earlier.
He did what he did best. He watched. Even with his dominating presence, he was hyper-aware of the other men who stood by prowling like hawks, stalking their prey and waiting for the best moment to attack. Wade was enough to keep you safe during your joint club outings, but now that he was with you, Logan ensured you made it home every night.
You were smart and vigilant, always were before you met him. But Logan was familiar with the instinctive behavior of men, especially men like him. Ill-tempered. Selfish. Prone to arguments and have an affinity to attract trouble. He knows what they were all thinking, creating mental checklists of what tricks they’d use to guarantee you went home with them instead. Countless fantasies of their hands feeling you up, touching you in ways that Logan was allowed to, in a way only he could.
His heart thumped in his ribs at the thought. The innate possession he felt towards you flared as he impatiently wiped his hand over the dark denim of his jeans, ignoring the growing itch to claw the next fucker that thought about coming within six feet of you.
You could hold your own; you’ve told him more than enough times that he didn’t need to stand by and monitor your every move. Yet he does it without hesitation, refusing to give anyone else a chance to breathe you in or get close enough to touch what was his. 
Wade waltzes to the bar and orders another martini, glancing at Logan and contorting his neck to peek at you dancing with a blissful smile.
“Having fun, Wolvie?” he asks, grin widening as his lips envelop the thin straw in his drink, slurping it up like a refreshing cup of water. 
“You know the answer to that,” Logan mutters, finishing the rest of his amber liquid in one gulp before tapping the cup on the bar countertop and asking for a refill. The bartender flashes him a look of concern, receiving a flick of Wade’s hand and topping off the glass.
“You’re five drinks in. Quit being so fucking grumpy,” Wade sneers, detecting someone walking in their direction. “Now flip that frown upside down, Logie bear. Our girl is coming over, and I don’t need you getting your panties in a twist because you’re moody.”
Logan rolled his eyes before spotting you striding to him, standing in front of the burly man with a hazy smile. He noticed the multitude of heads that turned to follow your direction, tracking you with every step you took toward the deviant pair. A low whistle seized his attention, Logan’s head rapidly spun at the sound to find its source and nip it in the bud. The growl settling in the back of his throat simmered down once your soft hand touched his chest, grounding him to you.
“Hey, old man.” Even in heels, you still couldn’t reach him face-to-face, smirking when his thick arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer. “Enjoyed the show?”
“The music in here fucking sucks, but I can’t complain too much,” Logan’s lips hovered over the shell of your ear, lowering his voice as he spoke. “You were my favorite part.”
“Oh, you weren’t looking at the girl in the cocktail dress? I don’t know, her dress was real short.” The corner of his mouth curled up, challenging your statement that feigned any truth. Giggling, you clutched his bicep, the alcohol loosening your tongue to speak more bluntly. You pivoted to spot Wade, who watched you both from afar in animated shock.
“Problem?”
“Sorry, honey. I just can’t stand seeing the two of you be all touchy-feely in front of me. It’s very disturbing.” Wade finished his martini, ordering a margarita and explicitly asking for a tiny umbrella. “I hate that you took my spot. Creeping in like a slut into a happy home and snatching my man away.”
Ever since Wade had introduced you to Logan almost a year ago, it had been an instant connection he got front-row seats to witness. He was excited when he finally compelled Logan to go to the club you both frequented, recalling how he raked his eyes over you when you weren’t looking. It was only a matter of time before you left the club with Logan one night, and Wade met him at the front door the following day like a disappointed parent acknowledging his walk of shame. 
All jokes aside, considering the pair he just unleashed into the world, he would believe himself to be the city’s most qualified and successful cupid.
“Can’t call me a homewrecker if there was no home to wreck, sweetie,” you shrugged, hearing Logan’s dry chuckle.
“Sure, whatever. But you should be thanking me, you know? You get to have those big, meaty hands on you all the time. Not to mention you get to fuck him and actually see his d-”
“Wilson.” Logan’s voice cut him off, causing Wade to murmur under his breath. You fronted the brunette, messing with the collar of his leather jacket.
“Don’t be mean to him. He’s right. I do have the happy privilege of fucking you all the time.” Your glossy lips hypnotized Logan, his hand kneading your rear as he caught your breathless laugh again. He’ll never fully admit it, but he’s always loved your lack of filter when you had a little bit to drink. You were funny and engaging without needing the extra boost, but something about you being openly vulgar made his blood flow south.
“That you do.” His ego blazes inside him, leaning forward to kiss you in the club for the first time that night.
You happily accepted it with a pleased hum, tasting the Jack he’d been drinking and exchanging the flavor of vodka still on your tongue. Your fingers clutched at his jacket, body pulsing with need as the alcohol in your system beelined straight to your clit. Audible gagging noises pushed you to draw away from Logan, your drunken sight landing on the culprit.
“Oh, am I interrupting you guys? I told you to give me a PDA warning next time before you start getting freaky, otherwise I’m joining,” Wade taunted, getting a scoff from you and an irritated grunt from his friend.
“How about we share another drink? Will you forgive me then, Wadey?” You flapped your lashes at him, his wrinkly skin creasing to mimic your gleeful appearance.
“Fine, but only because you know how to sweet talk me. Tequila?” Your optimistic nod motivated him to order another round of shots for the two of you to down. You felt a gentle squeeze on your arm, meeting Logan’s gaze and silent questioning. Can you handle drinking more?
“Just a few more, and we’ll go, okay?” You stroked his chin, kissing the corner of his jaw in reassurance. He asked to test your senses, only intervening to stop if you were too far gone to speak to him. Unlike him, he wants you to keep your liver intact.
“Alright. But the second he starts offering you shit to snort, we’re leaving.”
“I would do no such thing!” Wade dramatically reacts, offering two tequila shots while holding some of his own. “Besides, I don’t need our precious darling over here fucking up her pretty nose. She needs that thing to smell your bullshit from a mile away.”
With another laugh, you swallowed the shot of clear liquid, inhaling a hiss and consuming the next, sucking on the lime to reset your tastebuds. Your body warmed with a buzz from the drink, an electric shock coursing through your veins as it roused you. 
“C’mon, sugarplum, you owe me a dance.” You didn’t have time to waste as Wade dragged you to the dance floor, throwing Logan a flirty wave and joining your mutual friend. The Wolverine returned to his position, manning his post and sipping on the remaining liquid in his glass. He kept tallies on the wandering eyes that gravitate to you, fighting the urge to rip out every single one.
He’ll keep the peace for your sake. You were already his, you’ve been his ever since you took him home and made him stay the night. What more did he have to prove?
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It was nearing two in the morning when you finally decided to call it a night. By now, the heels on your feet started slipping, and your footing grew unsteady when you attempted to walk to the bathroom. You held your bearings long enough for Logan to call a cab home after buying some greasy food for you to eat, shooing Wade once he said he was stopping by Vanessa’s.
Logan’s touch was constant the entire way home, skimming your thigh and lower back in the cab, responding to every one of your little mumbles to keep you awake until you arrived at your apartment. Getting you out of the backseat was another hassle he was familiar with, aiding you to stand up straight without accidentally exposing yourself. The best solution he came up with was carrying you inside, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he held you steady and trekked inside the apartment complex.
He didn’t mind the faint squeezes of your arms or the clenches of your thighs around his waist. You were calm, safe, and happy, mindlessly humming in the crook of his neck as he eased his way through the front door. Strong arms entrapped you as the familiar walls of your bedroom filled your vision, Logan placing you on the edge of your bed with a huff of breath.
“I’m gonna get you a cup of water. Alright?” Logan’s hazel eyes met yours, taking in your feeble nod.
“Okay,” voice light and airy, you patiently waited for Logan to return as promised. Within a minute, he had a tall glass of cold water in his hand, a few ice cubes floating at the top.
“Open up. Need you to drink some of this for me.” Heeding his command, you sipped the refreshing beverage, soothing your parched throat. You got halfway down the glass before he drew the cup away, placing it on the bedside table for later.
“Let’s get these heels off now,” Logan suggested next, descending to his knees and bending his leg to raise your foot on his thigh, messing with the straps tied to your ankles.
“Yes, please. They’re fucking killing me.”
He chuckled as you wiggled your foot at him, allowing his thick fingers to unclasp the buckle that held your heels together. Peeling one of the shoes off and dropping it to the floor, he loosened the other, the heel falling to the ground with an audible thud.
Strong hands held your right foot by the ankle and gently twisted it, stretching the tendon after a long night out and doing the same to the left. You whizzed contently at the touch, the devoted rubs of his thumbs and forefingers massaging your feet after hours of dancing never failed to make you feel better. Before you started dating him, you underestimated Logan’s capacity to be affectionate, but he eventually got the hang of things once your relationship grew more steady. 
Sure, he had been alive a long time, you got that warning from Wade prior to meeting Logan. But once you cracked through that tough exterior, you developed a soft spot for the man buried under all that trauma.
“Always so nice to me yet grumpy with everyone else,” you said, running a hand through his hair as he stayed on his knees.
“You’re saying you don’t like special treatment?” he teased, the look in his eye heating your belly. He caressed your shin, drawing circles over your skin as you watched him.
“Never said that. Like it too much sometimes,” he stood up, kissing the top of your head and walking to the bathroom to wash his hands.
“Let’s take those clothes off and get you in something less skimpy.”
“Already? You didn’t tell me anything about my skimpy outfit. Thought you liked it…” you feigned a pout, and Logan raised a curious eyebrow.
“You look good, you always do. I told you that before we left.” He loomed over you, a shiver rushing down your spine when his musk surrounded you. His hands were at either side of your hips, palms resting on the mattress as he observed you.
“I like it when you get all dolled up for me.” One of his knuckles moved to graze your bare forearm, the hair on your skin rising from the goosebumps that followed. “Hate that everyone else gets to look, though.”
“You did good tonight. Didn’t claw anybody in the ribs.” You were only half joking, but you knew it wasn’t such a farfetched idea for him to do just that. All it took was one guy to come too close, and Logan’s knuckles were splitting to unsheath the blades embedded between them.
“Trust me, I was thinking it.”
“I know you were. Still happy you didn’t, so thank you for that.” You held his cheek and tenderly kissed him. “Now take my clothes off.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Logan tugged your mini skirt down your legs, tossing it to the floor. Your top was next, lifting your arms so he could pull it up from your torso, leaving your top half bare. He leaned back to take you in, raking his eyes over your uncovered figure. You were only clad in the lace black thong he noticed earlier when you were getting dressed, the thin piece of fabric doing nothing to conceal what he knew lay underneath.
“You’re staring again.” Your voice brought him to reality, a dry hum being his response.
“You don’t usually complain when I do,” he noted, growing more cocky at the uptick of the subdued tension between you.
“Because I like it when you look at me, smartass.” You held him by the fabric of the white tee hiding under his jacket, hands roaming over the expanse of his chest and stomach, messing with the metal of his belt buckle.
“Seems like you want something…” Logan hungrily watched as your legs spread wider to accommodate for his thicker ones between them, lingering to pounce on you.
“Want you to fuck me.” A rich groan tumbled out of Logan when you yanked him down for a kiss, chasing his tongue with your own and biting his bottom lip. His large hands skate over your thighs, textured fingers pinching your hip to keep you in place. Pulling his head away, he exhaled out of his nose, lightly grazing the tip of it against yours.
“Not until we shower. You smell like Wade and tequila.” He walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, messing with the knobs to get the searing temperature you liked and coming to capture your dumbfounded expression.
“Are you fucking serious?” You shouldn’t be surprised. Though you think he was just finding more ways to get you to sober up.
“Very. I don’t need you smelling like him in bed. I want you to smell like you.”
Rising to your feet, you entered the bathroom and bent down to peel your thong off. Holding the last piece of clothing by the tip of your finger, you flung it to Logan, swaying your hips with an added flare as you stepped under the showerhead. The steaming water hit your aching body, comforting your sore legs from standing on an arch for so long. 
You heard shuffling from the other side of the glass barrier, enjoying the feel of the scalding spray as burly arms encircled your midriff, holding you loosely by the waist. Turning to face Logan, he eyed you with a softness reserved only when you were alone, your love worming its way into his cold heart and chipping away at the frozen bits and pieces over time.
“I’m surprised you haven’t melted yet from how hot this water is,” Logan jested, pressing yourself closer and gliding your fingers over his torso.
“You’ll get used to it,” you brushed his comment off, his rough fingertips coasting down your back, much softer than how he handled you in the club. “You’re the one that likes showering with me anyway.”
“Course I do, but I’ll never know how you tolerate this. You sure you aren’t the mutant here?” You lightly slapped his sternum, petting his skin with a shake of your head.
Logan maintained the scorching temperature of the shower stream as he held your chin with his forefinger and thumb, bending forward to kiss you, slow and passionate as it always was. You reached for his broad shoulders, opening your mouth to welcome his tongue, the muscle curling around yours with ease.
Maneuvering to pin you to the tiled wall, your hands ran up to the nape of his neck, driving your fingers through his wet hair as you sought more of his touch. Logan parted from you, leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw and neck, biting at the skin. Your breathing grew more sporadic, desire surging through you and flourishing between your thighs.
“Logan, please,” you were already begging for more, and he hadn’t done anything prevalent yet. Even with the alcohol slowly ebbing away, your arousal intensified, and a desperate craving for his attention overwhelmed you.
“What do you need? Tell me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his tongue rolling down to your clavicle, sucking a mark into the side of your neck for you to uncover in the morning.
“Need you to touch me.” Unabashedly, you took one of his hands by the wrist, spreading your thighs to position it where you needed him most. His fingers quickly found your pussy, drenched and crying out for his touch. The tips of his pointer and middle fingers drifted up to your sensitive nub, twitching under the initial rubs he delivered.
“Yeah? Need me to make you feel good, sugar?” Logan’s ego continued to ascend as he observed the expressions on your face, your eyebrows furrowing when his digits plunged into your aching hole.
“Been like this for a while, hm?” The smooth timbre of his voice spurred you on, directing his free hand to hold the bottom of your thigh, raising it to his hip and keeping it in place.
“Since you kissed me in the club.” Your confession fell over his lips, nails digging into his shoulder blades, leaving crescent indents in their wake. “Wanted you to fuck me in the bathroom.”
A deep moan rumbled in Logan’s chest at your words, crooking his fingers into that spot tucked at the roof of your entrance. You whined loudly at the touch, tossing your head back against the tile behind you and clenching hard around his thick digits.
“Next time. All you gotta do is bring me there, and I’ll fuck you over the sink.”
You couldn’t help but envision what it would be like to follow through on Logan’s proposal. How he’d pursue the imprint of your natural scent, mixing in with the aroma of your perfume that emanated off of you in waves. His lips would make a path over your shoulder and neck, leaving teeth marks for the club members to see after he was done with you. His fingers would wrap around your throat as he fucked you against the counter of the bathroom sink, forcing you to look at your reflection as you took him from behind.
Mascara streaked down your cheeks in dark smudges, your lip gloss fading and leaving a ring on the base of his cock from when you sucked him off, his cum dribbling down your thighs while he grabs your torn underwear and stuffs them into his pocket. And once you’ve both had your fun, you’d take his hand and stroll out of the bathroom with a smile, proudly flaunting Logan’s claim for everyone to acknowledge who you belonged to.
He was focused on the dives of his fingers inside your cunt, concentrated pulses to your g-spot and sneakily adding his thumb to the mix to press into your clit. Your half-lidded eyes glanced at him, the tell-tale signs of your upcoming orgasm creeping up and building in your gut. Logan could sense it too, the increase in your heart rate and the pulsing of your walls signaled that you were getting close, desperately seeking that release he could give you.
“I know you’re close.” He picked up the pace of his fingers, punctuating his thrusts to work in a third digit to stretch you out properly, the circles on your bundle of nerves becoming relentless. “Come for me, darlin’. C’mon, let me feel it.”
Trained like a dog to obey his command, your climax hit you with force, the strained rope of tension snapping and shooting relief up your spine. Gripping at the nape of his neck, the moan you emitted resounded through the bathroom as your thighs quivered from Logan’s ministrations. The slick walls of your pussy convulsed around him, giving you a few more pumps with his fingers before he took them out, watching in a daze as he licked them to taste your slick with a satisfied grumble.
“Always taste so damn sweet,” Logan remarked, letting you taste yourself on his tongue with another kiss. The hard length of his cock twitched over your lower belly, the ache of being empty overwhelming your senses.
“You can take a little more right, princess?” It was a genuine question, analyzing your energy levels after a long night out. But you craved to feel Logan the best way you knew how, nodding your head at the thought of feeling him deep inside where he belonged.
“Want you, please,” you implored, large hands grabbing the underside of your thighs to lift you from the ground, Logan’s strong hold keeping you upright on the wall. The tip of his cock bumped against your opening, your arms wrapping around his neck as he positioned himself.
“Hold on to me.” You did as he said, mewling in pleasure as he sank into your waiting cunt.
You welcomed him without resistance, his legs and forearms flexing to hold you up as he drove his hips forward until he was down to the hilt. A whimper wormed its way out of your mouth once Logan was tucked snug inside you, the tip of him hitting depths only he could reach. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feel of him, legs wound tighter as you adjusted to him.
“That’s it. Exactly where I’m supposed to be,” Logan confirmed with a grin, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing you in. He concentrated on the way your wet heat enveloped him so well, pussy molded to take him like that was your purpose.
Leaning more into your embrace, he began to move, shifting his hips to dive into you just the way you liked. Deep and even thrusts sent you reeling into ecstasy, your toes coiling as he persisted in his consistent pistoning.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cried out at his movements, the upright position Logan had you in propelled the tip of his cock to hit the roof of your entrance with rehearsed accuracy. Your clit came in contact with the hair at the base of his length, the delicious friction adding to the amplified sensations.
“Feel so good. Fucking warm and wet. Shit.” He rambled against your throat, both of his big hands cupping your ass and keeping you secure as he fucked up into you.
Logan used his strength to bounce you on top of him in time with his jabs, heavy balls smacking into you as he picked up the pace and chased his release. You tightened again, nails biting into the taut skin of his shoulders and raking down, drawing a noisy groan out of the man from the pain. His skin reddened with the streaks you left behind, mending together as his regenerative powers healed him in seconds, removing any evidence of your marks.
“Logan, need it, need you. Please.” He understood what you were asking for, the pounding of his hips getting sloppier on your instruction. “Want you to fill me up…”
“Cum again for me and I will. Fill your pussy up the way you need.”
He wasn’t asking. Your deft fingers went up to his hair and gave him a harsh yank, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, meshing your mouth with his. Logan panted a breath and followed with a hiss at the slight ache, the urge to fill you up awakening the most primal parts of him.
Your climax washed over you abruptly, mouth positioned in a silent scream as you unravel underneath Logan. He whispered words of praise in your ear, prolonging your orgasm for as long as he could. Your walls flexed and spasmed around him, soft cries morphing into helpless whimpers with every fierce buck of his wide hips. Molten pleasure surged down his back, and his hands sought purchase on your body, squeezing hard enough to bruise. 
“Fuck,” Logan rasped into your skin, stifling his growl with a sharp bite to your neck. The blunt ends of his teeth dug into you, hard enough to tear at your flesh that bloomed into bright red and will fade to purple.
With a few more lunges, he burrowed himself deep inside, painting your walls with his spend and claiming you like he always has. Your legs tensed around his abdomen, making sure to keep him safely tucked and not let a single drop go to waste. You slumped against him, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder as he littered soft kisses over the marks he left behind in a muted apology. 
“Better now?” he asked, carefully bringing you to stand on the ground, keeping his hold on your hips in case your wobbly legs gave out.
“Mhm. Much better.” You nodded, offering him a kiss and enjoying the aftermath of your respective highs. The carnal appetite you felt earlier dimmed down to manageable levels now that you got what you wanted.
“Good,” Logan reciprocated your delicate kisses, doing what he could to calm and prep you for bed. He knows you could theoretically go for another round, but your exhaustion was palpable. He’d have to make up for it in the morning.
He took your loofah and body wash, pouring the liquid over the net fabric and scrubbing at your figure. He washed you meticulously, rinsing off the suds, and you returned the favor by cleansing him too. Your scents interlaced together as you washed each other, a smile sneaking up on Logan’s face at the realization.
After the shower, Logan did the honors of drying you off, rubbing you down with lotion, and grabbing a baggy dark T-shirt to dress you in. You brushed your teeth as he searched for his sweatpants, alternating between using the sink until you were both ready to end your night.
You eased into the mattress first, tugging the duvet to the side for Logan to follow you and lay on his back. Instinctively, you cuddled into his side once he made room for you, throwing an arm across his chest and lifting your leg to bend comfortably over his thigh.
“You’re gonna make me breakfast, right?” you questioned sleepily over his shoulder, familiar with the post-coitus routine he established in your relationship. In a few hours, you’ll find him making pancakes in the kitchen, or he’ll be under the sheets between your legs again. Either way, it’ll be a good start to your day so long as he’s the first thing you see when the sun beams through the bedroom window.
“I’ll think about it.” Jabbing at his ribs in mock retaliation, you closed your eyes and listened to the distant sounds of the city filling the room, soothing you to sleep.
“Love you, baby. “ You’ll doze off before you hear his reply, nuzzling into his body and chasing the stability and comfort of your personal weighted blanket and heater.
He waited until your breathing evened out and your heart rate leveled, beating on par with his. Giving you a side glance, you were fast asleep, embracing Logan like a teddy bear. Pressing one final kiss to your forehead, he watched you sleep for a while longer, stroking your backbone and holding you close.
“Love you too, sweetheart.”
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Dividers by @saradika-graphics.
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peachesofteal · 6 months ago
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader
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You have no idea Simon’s rented a flat the next block over.
It’s the quickest walk, from your place to his, and he makes it frequently, especially at night.
You don’t know he stands in the shadow of a tree, waiting for your lights to flick on and off. On, and off, all night long.
Orion keeps you up, he knows without a doubt now. The tired eyes and tired smile you gave him the other day when he fixed the washer filled him with shame, miserable and scalding, a burn searing across his heart.
He gave you a baby, and then disappeared.
He estimates you get up every three hours. The dim, muted light from your bedroom window flickers alive, and then the living room follows shortly after.
If he was there, things would be different. He’d get up with Ry, get him tucked into bed beside you, snuggled up to your breast. He’d rub the apple of your cheek to gently wake you, just enough so you’d know what’s going on, but not enough to truly open your eyes. You would trust him, trust him to take care of you, and the baby, trust that he’s there. You’d be half asleep as he pulled your tank top down and helped Orion latch, half asleep when Simon turned you in the bed so the baby could switch, Simon’s chest warm at your back, his hand holding Orion steady. He’d stay awake and vigilant until he was done eating, burped, changed, and settled back into his crib. He’d kiss you afterwards, long and sweet, and then press his nose to your hair and breathe deeply, before waking up to do it all over again in three hours.
It’s all a fantasy, a secret dream he’s built and tucked away in his mind-
but it will all be real. Soon.
He starts with a dinner.
It’s around six when he strolls up to your front door. He’s got two orders of takeaway fish and chips, a favorite of yours (he remembers) and a strawberry mango smoothie (he’s not sure if you like these or not, if he’s being honest, but he knows nutrition is important right now. The internet says you’re burning a lot of calories, but you also need more sustenance and nutrient rich foods.)
You’re surprised to see him, when you open the door, too big sweatshirt rolled up at the sleeves, ratty shorts raw hemmed between your legs. He enjoys the way your thighs touch, how they press together, and remembers them as warm and soft. He’s (not so secretly, based on your first night together) pleased by your body. Soft and sweet and curved, but strong too, strong enough you made him a baby, to be a home to his son. And to him.
His favorite little kitten.
Your eyebrows crease together achingly slow as you take him in, and the spot the takeaway bag. You point to it, small smile twisting your lips. “You brought me food?”
“Need ta make sure you’re eatin’ enough.” He grunts, and then steps closer, crosses the threshold, herding you inside with a hand on your hip. He does a preliminary sweep of the flat, and then sets the bag and smoothie on your kitchen counter. “Baby asleep?”
“Just went down.” You sigh, leaning backward against the cool tile. “Was really fightin’ it today. I’m hoping he’ll sleep for more than the usual two, three hours he’s been getting.” Your head tips back into the cabinet, exposing the vulnerable marrow of your throat, and you roll, glancing at the plastic cup filled with cold pink slime. “And a smoothie?” He chuckles.
“Wasn’t sure ah, if you liked ‘em or not but… it looked good.” You glance at your feet, sweet smile shyly peeking at him.
“Thank you.” You whisper. Your voice is thick, trembling on the last vowel, and his stomach pitches. “It’s… really nice of you, Simon. To bring me food. I…” you glance up, eyes full of tears, and he’s drawn towards you like a magnet. “It was really hard today.” Your voice cracks.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He tugs you into his chest, palm stroking slowly over the back of your head. “I know it is, mama. I know. It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” You sniffle against him. “It’s s-so hard, and I’m like… I’m not even a human- I’m j-just like a milk machine and I can’t sleep and can’t leave this flat. I feel like I’m failing, like I’m doing everything wrong and I’m leaking and I-“
“Okay, shhhh. It’s okay.” His arms tighten around you, nose skimming along the top of your head. “I’ve got you, c’mere.” He cradles your cheeks, tilting you upwards to look at him. “You’re not failing, you’re doing a great job. Orion is safe, and happy, and healthy. You’re healthy, and safe,” he wipes the tear rolling down your cheek. “and we’ll work on the happy part.” He takes a deep breath. “‘m gonna take some leave, be around for a bit. I’ll be here, to help.”
“You don’t have-“
“I want to be here sweetheart. I wish I had been here all along.” He’s earnest in his plea and hopes you can see, all the things he wants to give you, all the things he’ll do. The space in his heart he’s carved away for you, for Ry. The aching sore spot under his ribs that stings when he’s away from you. “Alright? I’ll be right here.” He pulls your hand into his, and then up to his face, dotting his lips across your palm, promise whispered away into your skin. “I’m right here, mama. I’m going to take care of you, of both of you, okay?” You close your eyes, take a deep breath.
“Okay.”
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chilumi-shipper · 8 months ago
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Not Meant for the World
Kamisato Ayato x Fem!Servant!Reader
Summary: You fell for him, he fell for you, it was the typical start of a relationship, only problem is… well, he's him and you're you. A Commissioner who holds power over the nation, and a servant that basically amounts to nothing in the whole scheme of things. It was a mutual decision to keep your relationship a secret, only to be kept within the dead of night in his bedroom, evaporating before the sun could even rise for another day. But then… Ayato seems so keen keeping it a secret forever, letting the stream of wedding proposals and love letters flood in, going through great lengths to make sure the information doesn't leak out, almost like he's ashamed of being with someone like you. You could only take so much of that.
Tags: Angst no Comfort, Hidden Relationship
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
"You should probably go back to your quarters." As you were snuggled up to your lover's chest, enjoying his warmth under the covers of his bed, he spoke.
"But it's barely time." You whined, pressing your body closer to his and rubbing your face on his chest.
Back then, he would cave, he would chuckle and wrap his arms tighter around you, saying that you could stay for a little bit more and that he didn't really want you to leave anyway.
Now… he pulls away from your embrace, sighing as he looks you in the eye.
"It would be best to elliminate all the chances of us being caught, and I believe that some of the servants have been getting up early to start their shifts." He reasoned, his hold faltering as you feel his arms slip off you.
You felt a clenching pain in your chest as you slowly get up, looking around his room, you didn't want to leave, and yet when you looked at him, you felt like you were being pushed away.
"Okay… I guess I'll get going now…"
This is the part where he would usually kiss you and remind you that he loves you…
It never came…
You left his room without another word.
"Is it perhaps too much to visit a festival together?" You asked, not expecting a pleasurable answer from the Yashiro Commissioner sat on his office chair and drinking a cup of tea you prepared for him.
"I believe it is, being seen in public in a non-professional setting would be rather suspicious if it's just the two of us." Ayato responds firmly, oblivious to (or perhaps just ignoring) the frown that formed on your face.
"We've been out together multiple times…" You reasoned, though you sounded unsure, not wanting to sour his mood and lessen your chances of getting him to agree to your proposal. "We haven't been on a date in a while."
"The families offering up their daughters to me are very vigilant of my public movements, suspicions will arise if they were to see me with any lady for no particular reason." He did not even spare you a glance, answering swiftly as he always does.
Yet again, you fail to persuade him to be with you. You prepared to say more, but a knock came before your words.
A guest came to the estate, a father of one of the many noble ladies offering their hand in marriage.
Long story short, he's here to talk marriage business, as these fathers always do.
When the guest left for a moment, "My lord, I just need a few more minutes to talk to you." Many times, you have tried to intervene, not satisfied with how your conversation earlier abruptly ended.
"Y/N, there are matters more important than this. Wait a moment." He pays you no mind, but you have had enough. "You are being too obv-"
"Ayato, stop." You spoke firmly, freezing him in his place. "I'm still talking to you." You approached him, his back still turned to you.
Slowly, he turned around to face you, his eyes held an unfit expression for him, almost like nervousness. "Y/N, let's not do this now…"
"Do you still want to be with me?" You asked impulsively, stripping the formalities and simply talking to the man you knew as your lover. Your eyes fill with tears, looking at him being lost for words. You hoped his answer would be immediate, that he would exclaim that why would you even ask such a question.
As you stood there, "Lord Kamisato, come along, don't let the servant keep all of our time." The guest came back, standing beside Ayato, who had yet to say anything.
No words were spoken, but the Commissioner knew that right there, right in front of the unknowing guest, in your watery gaze, he had a choice to make.
"Why don't you get us some tea in the meantime?" The guest spoke up again referring to you, but you have no intention of moving until your lover finally speaks up.
With a gulp, Ayato stood his ground. "Yes, please prepare us some tea, Y/N. No more of your nonsense."
A single tear, that's what you allowed for him to see as you nodded silently. But as you prepared the tea, your vision was blurry from the neverending tears, your sobs couldn't be controlled as you struggle to catch your breath.
But you needed that, you needed that to remind yourself that you are merely a servant.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
The Yashiro Commissioner sat on his bed that night, looking at the door to his room. His heart was beating fast, hoping for it to open and show the figure of his lover, though the odds are against his desires.
He hoped that maybe you'd spare him a chance, that you'd walk into the room and tell him that you'll allow him to show you how you much he truly loves you.
The door remains close. And so does his heart begin to ache. Ayato didn't sleep that night, he merely lied down and looked up at the ceiling, trying to imagine your warmth embracing him, trying to make it seem like your side of the bed wasn't left cold.
"My Lord…" His eyes looked up from the document he's been staring it for the past hour when he heard your voice… calling him in such a cold manner. You said nothing more, placing a tray of tea and pastries on an empty spot on his desk.
"Ahh, thank you…" Ayato looked at your face, hoping to see your usual smile whenever you served him his afternoon tea, yet your face held nothing but a blank expression. You merely bowed at him, before leaving without another word.
Your name was at the tip of his tongue, and his entire being screamed at him to just say it. He wanted desperately to call for your attention, but, though he did not want to admit it… he was scared…
You stopped in your tracks, remembering something that you had to discuss with him. Ayato, ever so perceptive of your actions, perked up.
"You have a meeting with the head of the Tenryou Commission later at noon, something about an agreement with regards to your relation with his daughter." You did not bother to face him to give him the reminder, opting to walk away once you finished your sentence.
The Yashiro Commissioner's face fell as he watched you leave the room, his heart still heavy, and his mind cursing at him for not having the guts to talk to you properly.
The pain felt more real once he entered his room for the night.
The place has been wiped clean of your existence, the covers have been changed so not even your scent lingered, some of the clothes you kept in his closet are gone, the vase of flowers you like to decorate his nightstand with is gone…
The framed picture of the two of you that sat on his nightstand is gone…
It felt suffocating…
With a sigh, Ayato closed the door, not wanting to see such a sad space, he instead went back to his office.
As he sat on his chair, he opened one of the drawers of his desk…
A smiled couldn't help but form on his face, a bittersweet one, when he saw the picture of you that he kept there a long time ago.
He laid his head on his arms on the desk, your picture next to his face. He figures that it was the only way he can sleep without feeling the suffocating emptiness of his room weighing upon him.
Today is the day the festival you were so excited about starts, and it's already been arranged for quite a while that today is your day-off. "…Y/N was really hoping that I'd join her at the festival." Half of
Thoma's words were muffled, but he could make out your name and the festival.
The blond retainer was asking for a day-off as well, to go with you.
Something uncomfortable boiled in Ayato's core, you asked him to join you back then, and he said that he couldn't. Yet, all he wishes now was to accompany you, to be by your side and not have to think about keeping your relationship a secret.
"With Y/N…?" Ayato asked, his voice laced with disappointment that did not escape his retainer's ears.
"Is something the matter, my Lord?"
Truly did his entire being want to disapprove of Thoma's request, he wants to go to you and offer to go with you himself.
"No, I'm quite alright, Thoma…" The Yashiro Commissioner heaved a sigh. "I'll allow your request."
You spent your day at the festival with Thoma, and it was obvious that you enjoyed it given the large smile that was plastered when you got back to the estate.
Meanwhile, Ayato spent his day at his desk, looking at meaningless paperwork while dreaming of being hand-in-hand with you at the festival, imagining that you would eat your heart out with all the streetfood available, watch the firework show when nighttime falls, and dance slowly at the festival music at midnight when everyone else already left.
That night though, he approaches you, his heart pounding when he caught your attention. "May I… ask you to sleep next to me again?"
He was tired, he could only take a week of sleeping in his office because his room haunted him too much. Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know how to even start explaining himself, doesn't know how to win you back, to say that he does choose you over any form of nobility that he has.
You smiled at him… emptily.
"I'm your servant, my lord. If you wish for me to, I will."
So you did, you slept next to him, he hugged you tightly, snuggling you up to his chest, yet you refused to hug back, to nuzzle in his embrace like you used to. You merely did as you were requested.
Ayato tried to ignore the tightening of his heart just before sleep and exhausted took over him.
But he couldn't ignore the chill he felt when he woke up hugging nothing. It's just as it should be, the servant listened to her lord, and now she left to do her other tasks.
It was crazy to hope a relationship like yours could work out. Kamisato Ayato felt a few tears fall from his eyes, now, he wished for you to stay.
~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~
Yo, it's 3am and I'm gonna sleep now.
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kitkat13001 · 10 days ago
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thinkin’ bout ₊˚⊹♡ husband!sanemi ♡₊˚⊹
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♡ husband!sanemi who cried like a baby on your wedding day.
♡ husband!sanemi who holds your hand in the marketplace and lets you tug him along to go see whatever it is you want to see — a new rug, a vase, a little trinket you’ve got absolutely no space or use for.
♡ husband!sanemi who hogs the covers at night and cheekily insists you have to cuddle up close with him if you want to get underneath them to get warm. 
♡ husband!sanemi who lets you sleep in on your day off, wakes up early to do laundry and make breakfast and kiss you on the forehead when you finally wake up towards noon.
♡ husband!sanemi who sits next to you in pillar meetings, your pinkies linked on the wooden floor as the master speaks. 
♡ husband!sanemi who keeps watch while you rest on a mission, vigilant and alert. nothing’s going to hurt you, not on his watch—even if he has to stay up all night. 
♡ husband!sanemi who just grits his teeth and takes it while you beat his ass for being mean to genya, dragging him away by the ear as you berate him loud enough for the entire house to hear.
♡ husband!sanemi who doesn’t hold back on you in pillar training, knowing you can take it. he just wants to make sure you’re at your best. he can’t have you slacking off in the field, y’know?
♡ husband!sanemi who patches you up quietly by the fire at night after he’s beat your ass in training all day. his touch is gentle now, fingers ghosting over your bruises and wrapping bandages around your cuts. if it’s really bad, he’ll kiss you better. 
♡ husband!sanemi who fights to get you on missions together so he can look out for you, but if he can’t, will kiss you good luck and tell you he loves you before you leave. 
♡ husband!sanemi who waits at the door for you to come back, keeping dinner warm on the stove, and sprints across the lawn when he sees the outline of your form coming up the hill to the wind estate. 
♡ husband!sanemi who keeps the letters you write him while you’re away in a box in the closet, and reads them when he misses you (he’ll die before admitting this much). 
♡ husband!sanemi who, with your help, finally manages to begin mending his relationship with his younger brother. who stops, arms full of food, in the doorway when he sees you and genya sitting at the table together during dinner, laughing and eating. who is overwhelmed by the love he has for his little family, and who would fight with everything he has to protect it. 
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divider by @/saradika-graphics — sacchan….my sacchan….please. i am so very soft for him. anyways, i’ve been sitting on these for a while and decided to lock in and finish it. hope you like! love, - 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢
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syluslnd · 29 days ago
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I NEED MORE PREGNANT MC X SYLUS!!
Like, how he would take care of her, how he would react in the birth, discovering the gender..
/my baby fever is killing me i need sylus
sylus when you’re pregnant
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Finding out the gender
When Sylus learns the gender of your child and finds out it’s a girl, he’s silent for a moment, absorbing the news with a mixture of surprise and realization. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he imagines a tiny version of you—someone he could protect, someone who would have his whole heart. Though he’s not one to show too much vulnerability, the thought of a daughter softens his usually intense demeanor.
He’d lean back, watching you with an amused smile. “A girl, huh?” He’d chuckle, reaching out to pull you close. “Guess I’ll have two of you to spoil now.” You’d catch the warmth in his eyes, that flicker of rare, quiet excitement.
Still, Sylus wouldn’t be able to resist teasing. “I better start teaching her how to keep secrets from her mother” he’d joke, his fingers brushing your belly. But when he thought you weren’t looking, you’d catch him in quieter moments, hand resting protectively on your belly, as if he was already prepared to keep both of you safe, no matter what.
Taking Care of You While Pregnant
From the moment he learns about your pregnancy, Sylus becomes almost obsessive about keeping you safe and there’s no negotiating his terms. He insists you stay home, especially on days he’s away and he’s steadfast in his ban on high heels. When you try to argue, Sylus simply raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Not a chance, kitten” he’d say with that teasing edge, though you can tell he’s dead serious. “You can save the stubbornness for when you’re not carrying our child.” If you try to wear heels or go out without him, he’d catch you in the act, effortlessly slipping the shoes out of your hand. “I don’t remember giving you permission for these”he’d say and you’d huff, knowing any argument was pointless.
When you’re feeling restless from being cooped up, he’ll pull out every excuse to keep you distracted. “Relax, sweetheart”he’d purr, settling in beside you with a stack of books or a movie. “I’ll keep you entertained.”
He’s vigilant in other ways, too, always attentive to your needs. He’d have the kitchen stocked with anything you might crave and would be the type to insist on doing everything himself, from carrying anything remotely heavy to running out at odd hours for your favorite snacks. Despite his intense, often merciless exterior, you’d see a softer, doting side of him emerge—one that speaks to how deeply he cares.
Being There During Birth
When labor starts, Sylus’s usual calm, controlled demeanor would crack just slightly, though he’d never let you see it. Inside, he’s bracing himself, knowing he’s powerless to control what happens next. But he stands right beside you, gripping your hand, a rare hint of nervousness showing in the tightness of his jaw.
“Easy, sweetie” he’d murmur, brushing the hair back from your face. “Just focus on me, alright?” His voice is steady, even gentle, though there’s an edge in his eyes that says he’d do anything to take the pain for you if he could.
When the pain intensifies, he squeezes your hand a bit tighter, his presence grounding you. He would keep whispering reassurances, telling you how strong you are, how proud he is. At one point, when he catches you wincing, he’d lean in close, his gaze unwavering. “You’re not doing this alone, kitten. I’m right here.”
Once he hears the first cries of your daughter, Sylus lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his hand still tightly holding yours as he looks at you, a flicker of raw emotion in his eyes.
For once, words would escape him; instead, he’d gently brush a kiss against your forehead, his quiet, intense gaze saying everything he couldn’t.
In that moment, he’d be entirely yours and hers, a side of him reserved for only the two of you.
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prongsx · 2 months ago
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Lazy Sundays
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warning: fluff, f!reader, Jason being a cute guy. English its not my first language. established relationship.
Jason had always been an alert person. It was tiring, but he couldn't help it. Life forced him to never rest.
It started when he was still young, he had to be alert so he wouldn't die in the alley of crime, if he made a false move he could end up in a web of crimes and murders. He had to be alert to keep his own mother from self-destruction, had to be constantly checking her breathing, if she had eaten, if she hadn't used her subsistence money for drugs. He learned that being a heavy sleeper was dangerous when his house was shot at and he had to hide under the table, eyes full of tears.
Then Bruce adopted him, but he had already lost part of his ability to be a child, never carefree. And now he had the burden of showing Bruce that he was good enough, that he wasn't wasting his time training a boy with too many emotions. Always alert. He had too many emotions, he knew that. His love was wide and deep, but so was his anger. His sadness was like sharp claws scratching his skin from the inside out. He needed to stay alert to keep his emotions in check, because they could consume him.
Being Robin kept him alert, he needed to take care of himself and Batman's back. Even Dick, who had years of training, found Jason too vigilant, his eyes never seemed genuinely relaxed and Dick found out the hard way. He went to play a prank on Jason, waking him up in the middle of the night, but the boy reacted in the worst way and before Dick could react, there was a knife pressed against his neck.
When Jason died and came back with Red Hood, his sense of survival became stronger. There were too many people wanting to kill him, the anti-hero had twice as many enemies, sleeping in peace was not an option. He had so many knives and hidden weapons that he would get scared when he went to brush his teeth and found an AK 47 in the bathroom cabinet. He needed to be like that to survive.
Then he met you. And his knees got weak, his heart raced faster than when he had a gun pointed straight at the vigilante's heart. After much difficulty, you started dating, even though Jason warned you that dating him was a death sentence.
You didn't listen to his warnings, forcing him to stop self-deprecating and start acting like a functional adult (as much as possible) to be in a relationship. Jason was right, he was too busy with his double life. He almost never relaxed, worried about taking care of you and protecting you from his enemies.
After a few fights, you decided that for the relationship to work, you would have at least one day a week to be lazy. You started it: Sunday morning. You needed to know that at least one day a week you would have Jason completely. It was hard to live with the distance his night shift required. So he committed to keeping up this new tradition.
"I'm hungry," Jason just mumbled in response to your plea. It was 10 am on a Sunday morning and neither of you were willing to get up, just like you forced them to. Your legs were intertwined, a thin sheet covering you, Jason's hands holding you tightly against him, his soft lips against your shoulder. The sun was coming in through the curtains, Gotham seemed silent, the only noise that mattered to you was each other's breathing.
"The bakery should be delivering by now," Jason replied, sighing contentedly as you drew patterns on his arm. One of the rules of Sunday morning was to make no effort, even cooking. You knew Jason liked to cook and take care of you, but at least one day a week you allowed yourself the luxury of eating ready-made food.
"It should be at the door by now," you mumble, finally opening your eyes and finding your boyfriend's beautiful face. Jason imitated your action, his sapphire eyes seemed clouded with sleep, which pleased you. Yesterday you had gone out to dinner and stayed up late watching movies and kissing on the couch, which explained how tired they both were.
"Let's get it then," Jason's voice was still hoarse, his black hair cutely messy. He let out a groan of complaint when you pulled away from him to get up, causing you to laugh.
As soon as you established lazy Sunday, it was as if a switch had turned in Jason's head. It was impressive to admire how beautiful Jason looked relaxed, his shoulders without all that tension, his features less marked and even his scars relaxed.
Peace would suit Jason, you thought.
The two of you shuffled into the kitchen, talking in whispers, your hands never leaving each other. Jason walked close behind you, his large hands holding your hips close to his body.
Your boyfriend had a silly smile on his lips, the joy of being with you leaving him on cloud nine. He noticed how beautiful you looked in your sweat shorts and with his shirt, you smelled of comfort and love.
"So, our only commitment is to have coffee and kisses at the counter, right?" Jason hummed, a huge smile on his lips, the sun seemed brighter. Then clouds appeared in the glorious sky of the lazy Sunday.
The clouds came in the shapes of three known people invading your window, the largest of them smiling happily. You thought Jason was really sleepy and relaxed, because he didn't even raise a gun towards the intruders, which was customary.
"Good morning, couple." Dick Grayson greeted, closing the window when Damian entered last. You raised an eyebrow, while Jason gave a slight growl behind you. Your hands came up to lightly stroke his hair, urging him to stay calm, he relaxed into your touch, your lazy Sunday Jason returning.
"Okay, Todd, we got some information from that case we were working on." Damian said, being the rude little punk that he is, throwing work papers on their kitchen table. Tim Drake followed suit, leaning against their counter, where Jason planned to kiss you until you forgot your name.
"Boys," you called out to them, clearing your throat. Three pairs of eyes stared at you. "Today is Sunday."
You sighed when none of them reacted. Damn workaholic sons of Bruce Wayne. Your feet shuffled to the kitchen door to get breakfast, leaving Jason to take care of his brothers.
"Jason, we need those other documents you saved." Dick said, sitting down next to Damian. Jason let out a long sigh, he still felt numb from being in bed with you. He wouldn't let his brothers ruin his favorite day of the week.
"Can we fix this tomorrow?" The three brothers stared at Jason, their eyes equally wide. The fearsome red hood's posture was so relaxed, his pajama top slightly torn and loose. His hips leaned on the counter and his blue eyes seemed clearer, almost serene. His hair really looked like a mess, the white lock falling over his forehead in a cute sort of way.
"Jason, did you hear us? It's the case you've been working on for months." Tim said, still looking perplexed. Jason sighed, his features still marked by prolonged sleep.
"Yeah, yeah. So?" He grumbled, a smile appearing on his lips when you came back with the breakfast bag. Handing him a cup and pouring coffee. He whispered a quick, "Thank you, honey."
Damian was the first to recover from the shock, his hands holding a particularly suspicious photo that would solve half of Jason's case.
"Todd, big drug case! You spent months bugging everyone for clues."
Jason just shrugged, sipping his coffee and resting his face on your shoulder, humming with joy.
"One day more, one day less."You could have laughed at how Dick looked like he had been slapped in the face. Your heart was bursting with pride for your boyfriend, who had finally learned the meaning of being at peace and lazy.
"Who are you and what have you done with little wing?" Dick said, blinking those big blue eyes slowly.
You turned your back on the little argument again, not wanting to interfere in the family dynamics, busying yourself with taking your breakfast out of the bag from your favorite bakery.
"Take those papers off the table, let's have breakfast." Jason replied with just that, making Tim's eyes pop out. He looked like a different Jason, without his characteristic sarcastic smile or the tense shoulders.
"Todd, we need to figure this out!"
"Jason, it won't take long..."
Jason let out a louder sigh now, leaving the Wonder Woman mug in the corner and turning to his brothers, his tone of voice still soft compared to normal. "Today is Sunday." He repeated, pinching his nose slightly to keep his temper from rising. "I'm staying with my girlfriend. I'll figure this out with you guys tomorrow."
He turned to you, almost as if he expected to receive a proud smile, and he got one. Damian let out a snort.
"Todd, be a man for once in your life and stand up for yourself."
"He's too tangled up in the leash." Tim joined in the provocation, unable to contain himself.
"Wrong choice of words, boys," you whispered, knowing what was coming next.
The three of them were startled when Jason's hand slammed on the table they were at.
"I'm only going to say this once. It's Sunday morning. If you little shits are unhappy and girlfriendless, that's your problem. Either you're going to leave now with these papers or I'm going to use the gun I have hidden behind the fridge."
Jason's blue eyes were that darker shade that screamed: danger! It didn't take much more, the three guards took the papers and left muttering, you heard a few words that sounded like "this will come back, Todd" and "I'll tell him where he can stick that gun."
You turned to Jason, your hands going to his tense shoulders.
"Honey, it's okay, I'll accept if you want to help them."
He let out a snort, pulling you against his chest, smoothing the skin under your shirt.
"No. It's our lazy Sunday."You smiled, ridiculously content, pulling him into a lazy kiss.
"Speaking of which, gun behind the fridge?"
He distracted you with a kiss at the base of your neck, a small chuckle leaving his lips. Bastard.
It was a good lazy Sunday.
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aquasoftware · 3 months ago
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FIVE STAR MEAL…★ ★ ★ ★ ★!!
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Synopsis: Married to the world's most judgmental chef also meant you feared him going anywhere near your not-so-shaved pussy.
CW: Not proofread ngl 😬, Chef! Geto, c*nnilingus, fingering, spit, praise, hair pulling, thigh hickeys, kissing, dirty talk, degrading (once), squirting, tatted!Reader, insecure! Reader, established relationship, hotel setting, you have a hairy cooter in this! Lmk if I missed sum!!
FT: Drabble.
WC: 1k || Paring : Geto x F!Reader || M.L
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When your husband is globally known for having a nasty attitude as a Michelin chef, of course, you were gut-wrenchingly nervous to let him eat you out.
Every "What if?" Always scurried across your scattered brain whenever Suguru pleaded to give you oral, which you brushed aside for another day until the two of you were on vacation for your 1-year anniversary, somewhat far away from the girls, while they were at your parent's house.
Praying he wouldn't treat you like he did to other chefs that he worked with, spitting out their dishes and telling them that gobbling their food was like eating shitty toxic waste, eventually you at last mustered up the courage to let him know what you really desired.
"You sure you're not gonna mind it being hairy, or.. what if I taste bad..?" You gulped, slightly grinding teeth as fidgety eyes bounced from side to side, spouting questions at Suguru left and right.
Oh? That's what this is about; this only made him abhorrently offended; you’d think he’d judge his sweet wife and her semi-unexplored jungle. You've let him finger you a couple of times, but each time was bare since being hairy made you profoundly self-conscious. Besides that, Suguru definitely snuck a taste on his fingers, although remembering it tasting like nothing, he still was prepared to eat your pussy as if it were an addictive drug.
"Trust me, baby, I'm going to take care of you real good; you're gonna wish you let me give you head sooner." Suguru smugly reassured, folding his arms as a devious grin marched in on his face.
And whew! He wasn't lying whatsoever, going slow at first, pressing tender sensual kisses at the dime-sized tattoos in between your thighs, while you rested on your elbows vigilant as to what he was doing exactly, breath hitching whenever Suguru's smooth lips trickled closer to your core.
Your husband began to harshly suck at the sensitive skin, creating dark marks on each thigh, causing you to quietly yelp, achieving a light snicker from out of him running his soft hands all over your body as he exhaled hot, steamy breath upon your aching pussy.
"Sugu..." Whining at the way his breath grazed your lower region, subtly asking for more, too impatient for anymore foreplay, soon satisfied enough, he finally licked a thin stripe across your clit, forcing your eyes to instantly shut.
His tongue lapped at your pussy as if it were nectar, eating it like he was on death row. Feeling his wet muscle slithering above your bundle of nerves in circles passionately sucking it every now and then; body uncontrollably writhing underneath Suguru’s face.
“Oh fffuck.. keep going, mhmm..” Your lips murmured words traveling straight to your husband’s ear, providing the extra motivation Suguru needed to devour that cunt whole.
He didn’t care the next person would call him disgusting for having lots of pube hair tickle his pale nose; either way, he was still going to swish his head side to side rapidly, enjoying the way your hands found solace in his raven tresses half near yanking it out of his skull developing pathetic whimpers against your throbbing pussy.
Sort of becoming embarrassed how even little vibrations from his moans led to your back arching, not at all bothered by the cruel chilly hotel air conditioning slapping close to your fiercely warm body way too in the moment of Suguru’s lewd sounds slurping down a five-star meal.
Hoping the two of you weren’t too loud during quiet hours in the lavish hotel, there was a huge attempt to keep your poor cries reduced, but you struggled, especially when Suguru covertly added fingers without warning.
Opening droopy eyes, you stared at the way this man had two fingers inserted inside, pushing them back and forth in a come here motion.“Haah haahh, shittt, u—use your fingers like that.” Mewling as loud as a siren, his slender fingers wriggling inward your mushy tightened walls felt like heaven, such in a daze that your brain persuaded you to believe that angels were singing to you.
You swore nobody could pull him away from your cunt, but he lifted his head up, panting as if he ran laps around the world. “Dirty girl, you like when I curl my fingers like this?” Suguru serenely spoke betwixt breaths, mildly biting his lip while his almond eyes traced your frame, in love with how the cream on his fingers oozed onto strands of hair from your lower lips.
Throwing your head back towards the mattress, unfortunately too engulfed in pleasure to even answer an inquiry like that right now, his fingers continuously targeted your g-spot, resulting in a deafening sing song squeal that echoed all around the spacey hotel room.
“Hmm, I think I’ve found your sweet spot, baby…” Your man cooed as freckled, sprawled-out goosebumps formed on your arms, the tone of his voice turning you on even more while he proceeded to plunge his fingertips at the notorious spongy spot, unable to help but slam your legs around his head.
He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt like hell, yet his drive to please his lady was stronger than the pain pounding as of now. “Aht, aht, aht, spread those pretty legs, love.” He sternly ordered, looking prideful when you immediately listened, snapping your legs back wide like a can opener.
“O-oh my godddd aaah S—suguru,” Your lips wailed out; his spit stabbing your pussy running down your plump labia, getting more and more sloppy. Suguru decided to chase after your clit once more, not knowing all these sensations attacking you at once sent you over the edge earlier than expected.
“I can’t ‘m gonna…” You slurred as Suguru’s concentrated palm rubbed against your entrance, driving your eyes to roll back, legs frantically shaking as if they’d been electrocuted. So much was going on at once; you knew he encouraged an orgasm, but you couldn’t understand what he was saying due to his fading out voice, entirely overwhelmed with arousal. The fiery pool in your stomach snapped, bucking up into his face not noticing juices bursted all over your husband.
Boosting Suguru’s confidence causing you to realize he most certainly wasn’t going to let up unless you squirted again on the white damp sheets.
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9/1/24 12:46 pm
dividers by cafe kitsune + @/rookthornesartistry
may or may not be inspired by Gordon Ramsay ☹️ leave me alone okay…
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prismdewdrop · 4 months ago
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dangerous territory 
Summary: jason todd may be exhausted after a long night of vigilance, but if you've stayed up late just to talk to him, he's going to make sure he knows exactly why.
or: jason and reader are both idiots and should probably just kiss, but they're idiots, so they do... whatever this is instead.
Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 
Word count: 2.9k
Warnings: mention of jason's death, mention of dead animals (in reference to the plot of john wick)
Tags: roommates in love, late-night conversations, mutual pining, jason is a little bit of an asshole (affectionate), he's not beating the little shit allegations, jason todd loves reader and is soo not normal about it, pov jason todd, everyone is 18+
A/N: long-time jason todd lover, first-time fic writer!
this work was inspired by @notnotacowpoke 's roommatesverse with jason, and they've been absolutely amazing with betaing and just going insane with me over this. you can read their work on ao3 :))
please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments or in the tags! thanks for reading <3
edit (a big thank you): omg thank you so much for the response, everyone! i genuinely can't believe my first fic on a sideblog got so much of a reaction, and I'm so, SO grateful. my inbox is open for your thoughts or requests for jason and his roommate reader! i'd love to say hi and explore this au some more!
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"Jay?" 
The sleep-soft call melts the night and the pain away. 
Halting his lonely trek to his room, Jason Todd turns towards your voice. A fresh bruise catches at the quickness of his movement, but he tucks away the wince into the back of his throat.
You're standing at your door, peering into the dark in his direction.
"Yeah, babe?" 
A low hiss makes it out of his throat as the endearment falls from his mouth. He waits to see if you caught it. You sounded exhausted, drowsy with much-needed sleep, and even in your apartment, the city was never quiet. Whether you heard it or not, though, you don't acknowledge it, waiting to hear a confirmation from him.
His heart aches for a split second, recognizing the fatigue in your voice, like the second skin he wears every day, accompanied by the tinge of fear that keeps him alive – and keeps you waiting to hear for sure if it's him.
"It's me. What's up?" he says again, louder this time.
You open the door wider, stepping more clearly into his view, just a little past the doorway. One side of your face and body is splashed in the ever-glistening lights of the city that leaks into your apartment in a haze of light gray.
The patch of light helps, and so does his helmet's night vision.
He can see you now, and like always, a breath catches in his throat–even rumpled with sleep, you look lovely and soft.
To you, he knows that he's just a larger patch of darkness against the dimness of your shared living room.
"You're back earlier than I thought you would be," you say finally.
He can see the concern flit over your face as you do your best to scan him in the darkness, checking in vain for any obvious wounds or hurts. He watches as your concern deepens when you're unable to make out anything in the dark, still reluctant to ask him to step into the light
"Slow night," he shrugs. 
He steps closer to you, not fully into the light but close enough that you can make out more of his form. He sees the relief wash over your face and your shoulders loosen a little as you clock his unaffected stride and note the lack of any visible wounds. He doesn't mention his new bruise. And he won’t, at least not until you tell him what it is that has kept you up so late. 
"I – well, I was waiting for you to come back..." 
A pause. 
You pull your lip between your teeth, eyes darting over his face, shoulders climbing towards your ears with tension. He can practically see your mind whirring, and he can see the exact moment you decide against finishing your sentence. Your eyes drop, and your shoulders with them. 
A sigh. 
Then: a small smile.
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Which... you are. Clearly. I think. At least, you look—"
You stop yourself, realising that you were babbling. With a pasted-on sheepish smile and an awkwardly cheery wave, you turn towards the door. 
"Well! You must be tired, get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow morning!"
The forced cheer cuts through your fatigue for only a few seconds as you rush the words out and turn towards your room, and he sees the corners of your mouth dipping down the moment you think he can't see your face. You're not a bad liar, by any means. It just so happens that most of the time you're together, you're the only thing Jason sees.
"No."
"What?"
Confusion contorts your face as it snaps to look at him again. Your eyebrows knit together, lips pursing and pushing out into a pout. It's cute, and he's quite sure you have no idea you do this.
"I'm going to camp right out here," he gestures at the (incredibly uncomfortable) couch as he looks straight at you, challenge evident in his voice and in the set of his squared shoulders – "And I am not resting until you tell me what you need."
You frown, lips pressed together into a tight line. You're weighing his response, trying to piece together just how serious he is. Jason reaches up to unclasp his helmet, lifting it off and letting you see that there's very little humor in his eyes – just enough to soften you into spitting out what you really wanted to say — but not enough to let this go.
That's enough for you, though, even in the limited light. Only three months of cohabitation and somehow the both of you could read each other just as well as the stacks of books that crowded the apartment – well worn, annotated, so many of them in various states of disarray, torn and stained and bent, nearly all with cracked spines, but still so so beloved.
He can read you a little better, though, what with his years of vigilance and, well. Everything else that followed.
Jason knows you – the same way he knows the locations of all of Bruce's safe houses, or the exact number of times he could call Tim 'the replacement' before something heavy would be launched at his head. That is to say, concerningly well.
There wasn't a twitch of your eyebrow or a blush or a glare or an angry press of your lips against each other, or a quirk of them (he may have studied your lips especially well) that he hadn't committed to memory, that he didn't know by heart. He wonders if you know, and he wonders what you'd think if you did.
Another sigh, your shoulders sag further, and he makes a mental note to take you through some exercises to improve your truly terrible posture.
"Jason, it's really nothing that can't wait till morning, I just –"
"Come on, dude," He scoffs, not unkindly. "I know you wouldn't have stayed up so late if it wasn't important enough to keep you up."
He nods at the dregs of coffee in the mug you'd forgotten on the centre table for emphasis. There's no hiding from the world's third (or maybe fourth?) best detective that it's the special, strong type that you usually reserve for the most daunting of deadlines.
You swallow up the rest of your words and let out a huff. This time, it's more frustrated than tired, and he can see the flash of irritation in your eyes. You glance away from him, arms coming up to clasp your elbows, encircling yourself in a loose hug. Discomfort radiates off of you in waves, and as you sink your teeth into your lips again; he notes the steady rise of your shoulders towards your ears.
A flash of annoyance goes through him. Not at you — never at you — but whatever new inconvenience this city has wrought for you. Whatever it is that has you up and walking around at 3 AM in the morning after a draining day of work and study and worrying about him.
He fights the urge to step closer, to wrap his hands around your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin and loosening the tightness in them. It would be so easy — there's barely four feet between the two of you, in a few steps he could be holding you and —
He stops himself from following that particular train of thought.
Red Hood faces open gunfire head-on almost daily. Sometimes, he even takes an explosion or two to the face. Then there was the time he'd died, followed by all the times he'd almost died. And he still couldn't remember the last time he'd felt true, bone-deep fear.
But this, this was dangerous territory he was terrified of treading. Yet he was unable to deny the existence of the temptation, always tugging on something in his chest like a low undercurrent, occasionally crashing over him in a wave of desire to touch and protect and hold. To slip his fingers through yours, through your hair, over your lips, between them.
He wonders if you know how easily he can read you, see the way your mind is running through excuses and half-truths to throw him off right now, extricate yourself from this uncomfortable situation and put a safe distance between you again. He should let you do it, really. Even you know that this territory is... not for you. Which is why you were now teetering at its edge after taking these few hesitant steps towards it – him.
But still. He can't ignore the tug. He can deny the waves, stop himself with a savage jerk on his mental reins. That low undercurrent, however – he nurses it, lets it guide him. He has to. It hasn't been long since you met, but he already doesn't know what he would do without it guiding him back to you, day after night after day, painful blow after near-death encounter.
And so he narrows his eyes at you, ready to counter anything you say that isn't the truth.
He feels like a dick; he really does – dangling his well-being in front of you to get you to just stand up and say it. He does this sometimes, pushing you and inconveniencing you – borderline bullying you into being honest with him.
But he knows he's right to be doing this. You have enough fire in you to push back when need be, when he crosses a line, and knowing you, you would've stormed back into your room without a backward glance and with a slam of your door, if whatever this was wasn't bothering you so much.
"I..." You paused to glare at him, just to show him that even if you were playing along, you did not appreciate playing his games.
Jason hides his smile and just raises his eyebrows.
Hands clenching into fists, you glare up at the ceiling as you wrestle with your words, as if hoping for divine intervention.
Another sigh, this time an admit of defeat.
"Fine – but I'm warning you – it's stupid –"
"With you, roomie, I doubt it is."
"Jason, can you please stop interrupting me? I'm really trying here."
Jason raises his palms in a silent apology, an acknowledgement of his dickish behavior, saving the real sorries for later.
You nod in acceptance.
"Okay." Deep breath. "I just wanted to... show you something. And spend some time with you. You know, because we haven't been able to catch up lately and I –" You stop, voice strangling around the next words, catching yourself. You take a breath before continuing. "And I could really use your... insights."
Your voice trails off, and he can feel you wince internally as you slip into impersonal corporate speak, an effort to avoid any words that were more intimate than they had the right to be.
Jason knows. Or at least he can make a damn good guess as to what the words you'd struggled to choke off were. He knew, sure as hell, it wasn't ‘insights ’, but acknowledging the unsaid words was very much stepping into the dangerous territory. And like you had when he slipped up and called you babe, he doesn't.
If he felt anything less than what he did feel, he would have joked about it, said something like: "Aww, bestie, I miss you too". Then you would laugh and shake your head and you would slip back into the easy camaraderie that had marked the beginning of your relationship – before Jason had started noticing the precise way in which the hearts that you signed your notes off with varied in size and number depending on the mood you were in, or the way your hand reached for his every time you crossed a road together.
So instead, he says nothing. He just waits.
"I'll be in my room," you say, arms wrapping around yourself again, a blush rising steadily up your neck and onto your cheeks. You nod at his gear. "Whenever you're ready, just come in. I'll be up."
Oh. They were to be alone. In your room. Probably on the bed. No, definitely on the bed. There's no space for a desk or chair in rooms that come with apartments in this part of Gotham, especially the ones affordable for students. No, there's only one place they can sit comfortably together.
Not that they haven't sat on your bed – or his bed – together before. They have, countless times. They've cuddled and huddled, most times with a pile of snacks for company.
On the days they'd given up on any possibility of productivity, they'd marathoned all their comfort movies and franchises before falling asleep, arms around each other, legs tangled, and depending on who'd had the worst week, a head tucked under another's chin, lead gently into slumber by the comforting rhythm of a heartbeat.
They'd binged Lord of the Rings (NOT The Hobbit series; you both agreed that that was a waste of time, though Jason had stronger, angrier feelings towards it than you did), almost all the Austen adaptations (you could never decide which Emma you liked better – the one with Anya Taylor Joy had the beautiful production and a great depiction of the relationship between Emma and Harriet, but the one with Gwyneth Paltrow had a certain charm, and the leads good chemistry); John Wick that one time – he'd adored the way you'd poked him and asked him if he could do/had done some of the particularly impressive stunts (he could, and you'd been thoroughly impressed); Fast and Furious – only till the sixth one though – Jason personally thought Fast Five was where they should have ended their binge, but you were partial to the sixth one (because of the romance, you said), and Jason had grudgingly accepted it's merits. 
That was, what, at least 40 hours of just watching movies? And that didn't even include the time they'd spend just hanging out together, reading silently, or watching something on their own (though one of them would inevitably end up joining the other).
No, he's definitely been in your bed, comfortable with the tugging undercurrents of longing in every laugh you shared, the way you'd sniffled unfailingly at the last march of the Ents, and when his eyes watered at the ride of the Rohirrim, the way you'd both sighed at Darcy's confession, and when you'd turned to Jason as you watched John Wick lay waste to New York's criminal underworld in revenge for his dead dog, and ask: 
"You'd do this for me, right?"
"Absolutely."
"Okay, good. I'd maybe hire someone to do this for you, since you know. I can't kill a man with my bare hands."
You could kill a man with your smile, though, Jason remembered thinking. You killed him a little every day and brought him back just as well, each time just a little bit more whole than the last time he'd been brought back to life.
Sure, he'd been in your bed. But not like this, not when the darkness of the night had melted that thing in his chest – the thing that searched for you the moment he woke up – and brought it out from where it was safe in its cage, to the back of his mouth, the tips of his fingers, the pupils of eyes – poised right on the edge of saying, doing, showing the wrong thing.
Say no, the admittedly miniscule part of his brain that didn't leap to fulfill your every wish insisted. They've given you an out already. Just say you're more tired than you look and talk tomorrow. This isn't just treading - this is running blind and unarmed into dangerous territory. Say no.
But... they miss me, the overwhelmingly persuasive part of him that ached to sweep that particularly unrepentant loose curl into place every day reminds him. They're up and they're worried and they want me to come talk to them because they miss me. I miss them.
His heart twists. He can't say no, never could.
Jason wonders if you know that he would walk into a shootout blindfolded, without armor and with a grin, if that could bring you anything worthwhile. He turns a fond smile your way, his careful expression melting away. 
Your breath catches as the corners of his mouth lift. When Jason smiles like that, his eyes crinkle, they shine at you as if you're all he sees, and it was heartachingly beautiful in it's rarity.
Jason's smile was a golden patch of sun on a cold day; you're powerless in its wake to do anything except curl up in its warmth and bask – always longing for more and more. 
"You know I wouldn't say no to that. I'll be right there,” he says with all the seriousness of a wedding vow.
You fight the urge to linger, to drink in his smile with your eyes and infuse every inch of your body with it's sweetness. You force a small smile of your own and with a wiggle of your fingers, you return to your room, feeling his gaze settle on you until you close the door behind you gently.
He doesn't hear the click of the lock, and so when he heaves his own sigh of defeat, it's in the safety of his own room, between him and the busy silence of the city.
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multific · 1 year ago
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Our Souls Tangled
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Tai'stbah x Reader
Summary: Growing up on Yautja Prime as a human was a difficult task. Thankfully, your parents taught you well and now, it was your time to prove your worth as a member of the tribe and get married.
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You walked along the ship, trying to find your way back to your room but you were utterly lost.
No matter how many times you have been on this ship, you always managed to get lost at least once per trip.
You grew frustrated with yourself.
You were a part of their tribe, you were the daughter of a Yautja... well adoptive daughter.
Your mother was pregnant with you when a Yautja saved her.
Your mother said your biological father was a human on Earth. But all you knew was Yautja Prime.
You knew you were different from them, yet they never treated you any differently.
You knew their language, their traditions and customs. You were one of them.
You were a great hunter and an even better cook.
Your mother and father taught you well. 
Your father, a tribe leader, Pall-Za'ko taught you the ways of a Yautja, and even if you were not as big or strong as them, you were one of them. He taught you how to use a knife and other weapons.
Your mother, Helena, taught you how to cook and be vigilant. She taught you songs and tales, she taught you that even if you were a human amongst the Yautja, you were still strong.
When you came of age, your parents sent you on a hunt. Your very first amongst the other younglings.
And you came back victorious.
It was the first time you saw your father that proud as he watched your mother hug and kiss you.
And now, you were sent to find a husband. 
A nearby tribe, known for their skills to create weapons, had sons ready for marriage, so you and two other females were sent over in hopes of uniting the two tribes.
The leader of the tribe was a young male, who inherited the title after his father's death.
It was said that he was picky and he refused to take a female as his wife.
You knew it was pointless to go, if he refused so many of them, why pressure him more?
But you also knew your duties as the daughter of a tribe leader.
So, you didn't argue.
You saw it as an opportunity, he will reject you along with the other females, and you will be back by the same time tomorrow. 
So, you got dressed once you finally found your room and got ready for the arrival.
You never felt smaller than right now.
You heard that this tribe had some huge males, but this was ridiculous. 
It was said that your tribe were better hunters because they were smaller and faster.
But these Yautja were huge.
Tall and broad.
You heard your companions making comments regarding the males.
But soon, all of you were brought in front of the leader one by one.
You were kept for last.
And just as you expected, as the others went in, they came out.
Both were rejected.
Now, you just had to deal with the rejection and be on your way home to your bed.
But as you entered the home of the tribe leader, and you locked eyes with him, you felt as if the air was knocked out of your chest.
You felt a weird sensation in your stomach and your head started to hurt.
You could only stare at him.
Tai'stbah, the leader of the tribe was introduced to you by one of his men.
A great leader, you listened as they listed all of his achievements and you couldn't help but feel impressed.
You also never looked away from him.
His eyes were glued to you and you were glued to him.
You thought he might find it strange that you were human. But you never expected him to keep staring at you.
And you had no idea why you were feeling this way.
In the end, the two females were sent home, you stayed, according to a member of the tribe, their leader couldn't decide when it came to you, so they invited you to stay.
Which shocked you.
Why would he want you to stay?
Did he not know you were a human? What was happening?
But no one said anything.
Everyone just kept avoiding you.
Later that day, you were asked to wear a traditional bride's dress, you wanted to refuse, but you knew better.
If he wants you to marry him, it is why you came here. You cannot say no.
You didn't want to disappoint your parents. 
You were led to a room where you were told Tai'stbah would wait for you so you two could have dinner alone.
When you entered, he wasn't there yet. Knowing where you could sit, you sat down right next to the tribe leader's spot. It would show respect and that you weren't afraid. 
When he entered, you stood up and bowed your head, just like you were taught. 
He sat down in his respectable place and so did you.
You were both served food before the cooks left.
You looked at anything but him.
You didn't understand why you were there. He rejected everyone, yet he asked for you to stay.
"I choose you." he said and you looked at him, looking into his eyes. "Mates." he said.
Mates or soulmates.
Yautja traditions regarding mates were simple and sacred, if a yautja finds their mate, they are to be together forever. Separation would hurt the two of them, it was said, that soulmates bond the moment they meet. A bond which can never be broken.
"Are we really?" you asked and he nodded.
"I felt it, did you not?"
"I-I felt something... I wasn't sure what it was."
"My parents were mates. My father once told me how he and my mother met, he said he felt the strongest pull towards her, and that he knew he could not be separated from her. And so did she. I rejected other females because I wanted the same my parents had." Tai'stbah explained and although it made a little sense, you were still sceptical. And you could see, he understood.
You recalled the sensation you felt in your stomach. 
Could that be?
But as you sat there and thought about it, you did notice how close you were to him and how safe you felt with him.
No other males have ever made you feel like this.
You also knew what rejecting him would bring.
Heartbreak.
Pain and suffering.
Mates are not supposed to be separated, they cannot live without the other.
But it did feel very sudden. You would say that you were unsure, but in reality, you were more unsure about the fact that you could find so much ease with someone else so quickly. 
If anything you were taken aback by how fast everything was going.
It wasn't to say that it was bad per say, but it felt all too quick.
"And now I found you." he said.
"I-" you knew you should say something, but what? Should you speak from the heart? Or let your mind speak for itself?
You weren't too sure.
"I understand, I'm also rather shocked as you can imagine. I never expected the hunting tribe leader's daughter to be my Mate, but it is true, I can assure you, I wouldn't lie about such things."
You knew he wouldn't or rather, he couldn't.
Soulmates are sacered. 
"I would like to try. I want to see where this feeling will lead us." you said and he genuinely looked happy.
One thing about the Yautja, they rarely showed any emotions.
--- A year later ---
You looked out of your window, the rain was pouring.
It rarely rained, but when it did, it was a heavy rain. Compared to other planets, the rain here was a lot stronger.
But you found comfort in it.
What you couldn't find comfort in however is the fact that Tai'stbah had been gone for a long while now.
He was invited on a hunt, and as a leader of his tribe, he had to go.
He had been gone for almost a month now, and you grew more and more worried with each day.
You knew he was alive, if he wasn't, you would feel it.
Later that evening, you heard the sounds of a ship landing, you rushed outside and it was indeed Tai'stbah's ship.
You stood there along with other females.
The ramp opened and he walked down, with his arms open, waiting for you.
You ran into his arms, as many other females ran to their husbands.
"I missed you." you told him and he soon pulled back, presenting you with a very impressive skull. "Thank you." you smiled at him and you both made your way back to your home.
You made sure to always have food prepared since you wouldn't have known when he would be home.
And now, it really paid off.
He ate everything you put in front of him.
"Your father sends his wishes. I got to see what a great hunter he truly is."
"He once said he won over my mother with his skills. He showed her that he was a true male."
"And now I understood why."
"So, you brought the skull to impress me?" you smiled and he nodded simply. "You shouldn't have, I'm already very impressed, Tai."
He leaned back in his chair and you moved over, sitting in his lap, you placed a kiss right between his eyes.
"You are my soft little human." he said as his hand grabbed your thigh while the other held your back.
"And you are my big strong Yautja."
"You are playing to my ego again, you know I like that."
"Can I go with you for your next hunt?"
"You said you are already impressed."
"Oh, I am. I'm only trying to determine if you would be as great of a father as I assume you could be, Tai." he snapped his head at you, eyes searching for yours.
"You want offspring? We got married a month ago and I asked you said you wanted to wait." he sounded way too happy.
"And I do. All I'm saying is my mind might change if I see you kill a couple xenomorphs." you admitted, and you felt his hands tighten around you even more.
He almost jumped up from his seat but your weight held him back.
"I-I will arrange the hunt soon! Very soon!" you laughed a little at his reaction. 
"Tai! Stop freaking out please!"
"I love you too much. I want it now." he said and you laughed again.
"I love you too." you said as you placed your forehead against him.
It surely felt nice having a Soulmate. Even if you were rather taken aback by it when you two first met, but for the last year you have been together and it has never been better. You swear it felt like it was more than just a year.
Your souls found one another, and it felt as if you two knew each other all your lives.
It was exactly how it was meant to be.
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clairdelunelove · 2 months ago
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itadori "wear what you want because I can fight" yuuji
he's not a violent person. well, most would claim he isn't. people tend to put him on a pedestal of fairness and morality due to his typical charm. the magnetism of his broad grins and upbeat compliments. always the comedic relief when situations escalated, and feelings were far from composed. and he'd agree that they weren't that far off with their assumptions. he views every individual as a holder of wills and dreams. the desire to strive for the value of life is enough motivation for him. he's a firm believer of sacrificing himself for the greater good– a selflessness that most couldn't fathom.
but by a rare stroke of luck, when the two of you began dating, yuuji noticed a drastic change in the perception he had of himself. he could be jealous. and in hindsight, it sounds silly because of course, there's nothing wrong with your partner being a bit insecure. it's human nature and happens to the best of us. but yuuji didn't lack self-esteem. no, he was just protective over you. guarded, vigilant, and careful about everything that involved you in some shape or form. and perhaps the inkling of keeping you all to himself has run through his mind more than once. these strong sentiments scared him, initially; rattled him enough to where he would ponder if it was normal. guilt was the typical consequence he dealt with and often confided in his mentors about it. conversed with them by using his large, expressive eyes and knitted brows. and when they hummed that his emotions were valid, well, it was like putting a soothing balm over an injury. he was as good as new.
so it isn't surprising when his nose crinkles at the abominable sight before him. he leaves for a minute, literally, to pick up the syrupy milkshake the two of you ordered beforehand. it's filled with candied toppings, a concoction that made your mouth drop in awe and caused him to immediately buy it to make you happy. and there's a bounce in his step when he waltzes over to your table. he's in pure bliss. just euphoric due to the fact that the both of you could spend the day together and it's been a dream come true. he'd taken you to the bowling alley, gotten some impressive strikes, and even snuck in a couple affectionate kisses. it's the equivalent of the cheesy romcoms that he watches when he misses you.
until it isn't.
because there's a guy chatting you up in yuuji's absence and okay, yuuji takes a deep breath and reasons that it's not a crime to talk to you while he's away. but cut him some slack, y'know. he almost feels bad when you catch his stare and a wave of relief washes over your features. emphasis on almost, however. his mouth twitches in response, plastering on a half-smile as he gets closer, until he has the misfortune of hearing what the stranger was adamantly uttering to you.
"you don't have to be coy, 'course you're dressing like that to get attention," the guy pointedly gestures to your outfit with a smirk, "you got mine, for sure."
and yuuji sees red. an intense burst of emotion that licks up into flames of animosity that drive him to the brink. it's instantaneous. scarily so, when yuuji's calloused hand seizes the stranger's before he can sleazily reach to pet at your clothes. because how dare this stranger feel the need to say that. yuuji recognizes the telltale sign of your brows drawing together, your self-confidence diminishing the more this situation goes on. so he snaps.
"what'd you just say to my girl, asshole?"
he doesn't even recognize the gruff, harsh voice that leaves his chapped lips. there's a huff of alarm from the sheer power of his grip on the stranger's wrist and you swear you hear an unnerving crack. you let out a distressed gasp. the blushy haired male doesn't verbalize the same sentiment, though. just blankly stares up through his brows, an ominous and haunting intent in his actions. and yuuji's a completely different person now. you note a muscle in his jaw that twitches. gone is your sweet, doting boyfriend. he's placed by a man with innate concentration and murderous intent to protect your honor– to defend you. the contrast is startling.
"she can wear whatever she wants, whenever she wants," yuuji moves to grasp onto the front of the stranger's shirt and forewarns him with a couple shakes, each word emphasized with the movement, "'cause she's with me."
and the blushy haired male rattles the other grown man like he was nothing. just a speck of dust that happened to get in yuuji's way. a nuisance that he'll willingly dispose of. naturally, the stranger is reduced to trembling and cowering in fear. the sleeves of yuuji's sweater are rolled up to showcase his solid forearms and rippling veins that are only more apparent in how tense he is. hysterical excuses leave the other male's mouth; mentions of who- or rather what- you were dating. how this wasn't right-minded or moral for him to be acting this way. this was just supposed to be a light-hearted 'joke.' but yuuji's not interested in listening. he casts a rather neutral glance to him, the kind where his brows drop in conviction. locked onto his prey and stopping any means of escape. his golden eyes are as sharp as daggers. a manifestation of the stranger's night terrors and much more. there's hostility evident in how yuuji shoves him to get lost and, as quick as the stranger appeared, he vanishes.
and after the whole ordeal, yuuji's busy scratching the back of his neck. the image of modesty and faultlessness being captured by how he tilts his head to the side while he watches the stranger retreat.
he even has the audacity to mumble an innocent, "gee. what was that guy's deal?" like the pink-haired male wasn't just playing violent mind games with him or how he wasn't just the sole embodiment of the harbinger of hell itself. all as an effort to protect you.
your heart skips. breathless, as you're engulfed in warmth that exposes your deepest desires. and you think that yuuji knows; well, with how he leans to press a tender kiss onto your forehead and eagerly takes your hand in his. how his casual display of strength melts you into a puddle. but when you're left flustered, heart pounding and mind racing, you realize that you're the one that's struck speechless on how effortlessly attractive he is. but it dawns on you that this is just how yuuji innately is. after all, he vowed to be yours; in every aspect there is. his commitment to you is unmatched. and it's the utter devotion that yuuji unveils to you in times like this that your love for him only grows with each passing day.
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blingblong55 · 7 months ago
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Sweet toy -141 NSFW
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---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, dub-con, older!men, cart!girl, reader is of age!, oral!sex, fingering, anal!sex, ----
141, day off, me being used by four hot men, hole 19 behind the bushes or when I’m serving them drinks.
You've been a cart girl for over a year, and every other time you serve drinks to the four men that always come at odd seasons to play golf.. They always make sure to give you the change of whatever drinks they get. It's always been a thing as a cart girl to be friendly with the men and women that order drinks when playing, which is why you always smile and laugh at the comments they say.
Today, as you were making your trip to hole 11, you spot your favourite customers. Johnny, Kyle, John and Simon, all waited with a smile as you approached them.
"If it isn't our sweet girl, Y/N," Johnny comments and walks up to the cart. "How are yer lass?" he asks with a smirk and takes some money out. "Good" you softly say and watch as he smiles. "Usual?" You ask him and he nods. "Yeah, this round is on me," he pays you and you serve the drinks. Simon was always quiet, vigilant but respectful. Kyle and John always joked around and the loudest of them all was Johnny. Johnny was your favourite, he always made sweet comments and made sure you knew you were appreciated.
"Keep the change, lass," he winks and you nod.
There was something off about them today. The way Kyle and Simon looked at your thighs as you served the drinks and how they seemed to get closer. Of course many times they joked around and said you were their luck charm but it was rare to have them all talk to you.
By the time they had reached hole 16, you were called over. The day was calm, most usual clients gone for the weekend so being alone with these men always meant you were told to keep your radio on.
John called you over and walked up to you, "Slow day, doll?" he asks, his voice soft yet rich in lust. You nod, getting up and getting ready to serve their next round of drinks. Kyle nods at John and with a smirk, he gets closer, his fingers play with your hair. Players always loved to flirt and you always reciprocated for the sake of keeping your job and also because they would just tell you to keep the change.
"You're a very pretty girl and by far the best cart girl," he says, his voice smooth and sweet. Johnny and Kyle get closer, Johnny approaches from behind and snakes his hand around your waist.
You began to understand where this was going, feeling aroused by the three men. Simon was the last to approach, he looks at the men then at you. That look in your eyes was so easy to read, which is why he begins to tease your nipples that by now have hardened. Kyle puts your hair up, allowing himself to kiss your neck. John smirks, he undoes his belt and watches as Johnny lifts your skirt and lets his finger tease your bud.
Simon slips you out of your skirt and tosses it to the side.
Johnny can't help but get you on your knees.
The four men have their cocks out, stroking their own as they watch Simon lift your shirt up and lean down to kiss you. The kiss becomes sloppy and before you could lean to him he pulls away and immediately slips his cock into your mouth. Kyle pushing your head so you could gag on Simons fat cock. The four men watch in awe as your eyes get teary.
Each of them take turns using your throat. Your tits covered in their mess and before you could swallow Kyles cum, Johnny pulls you to his lap, the grass too cold for you, he excuses.
Johnnys fat cock slowly pushes itself into your ass, Simon and Kyle both begin to share your cunt as John occupies your pretty throat once more.
Your moans, their groans and praises all mixed into their air.
Simon gets a hold of your neck, chokes you until you gag and whine on Johns fat cock. The men laugh as you squirm all your sweet juices onto them.
"What a fucking beauty, doll," John praises as you look up at him with teary eyes.
This sight of you being what they needed.
Johnny snakes his arm around your hips and plays with your sensitive bud. Your clit aching the faster he goes and he knows it too well since you clench around him, Simon and Kyle, earning moans and groans from them.
Johnny fills your pretty hole with his cum until you're leaking from him and just on cue, Kyle paints your pretty cunt with his cum. Simon and John wait a bit longer.
They can't stop, they don't want to. Your pretty princess body all for their use and what better than to cover it with their cum? A sweet toy like you should know you are of free use, right?
John pushes your head and allows you to swallow his cum, again. Simon doesn't want to stop but he sees your flushed face and chest and he gets a little rougher.
His thick and calloused fingers flick your clit until he cums inside of you. His seed leaks from your sweet pussy and with an evil laugh, he pulls away.
Johnny takes this opportunity and takes a picture of you, followed by a video where he takes close up shots of all the holes which you leak their cum from. You whimper and John takes you in his arms, kisses your forehead and gently dresses you. He hands you water and caresses your face.
"You were such a good girl for us, doll," he whispers as he tucks money into your shirt.
"I'm sure you'll want another bonus, meet us back down," he smirks and the men leave.
You look at your cum covered body, sex filled the air and you try to fix your hair.
A sweet toy like you should obey and get another sweet bonus from them, right?
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 7 months ago
Note
(Are your requests just closed to fics or headcannons too? If they’re closed to both ignore this and have a nice day 💕)
I love all of the dom WandaNat x sub fem reader dynamics
SoftWandanat x reader
MeanWandaNat x reader
Soft Wanda x Mean/Strict Natasha x reader
The list could go on
But there is something so specifically alluring about Mean/Strict Mommy Wanda x Lenient (not necessarily soft) Natasha x reader
Like I can’t explain it but that dynamic of them specifically is just so * chef kiss *
Anyway can I please have Strict Wanda/Lenient Natasha x reader headcannons 🤭
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Thank you for this request! I love the idea of all different Wandanat x reader HC, but there truly is something about strict/lenient Wandanat that gets me~
Strict Wanda
-Wanda’s strictness primarily stems from her protective nature. She’s been through a lot and wants to ensure you’re safe at all times. She sets clear boundaries and expects you to follow them to avoid any danger.
-If you're involved in any superhero activities, Wanda will insist on rigorous training sessions. She believes in being prepared for anything and wants you to be at your best.
-Wanda ensures you maintain a healthy lifestyle. She monitors your diet, encourages regular exercise, and makes sure you get enough rest. She might even use a bit of her magic to help you recover from minor injuries or fatigue.
-Despite her strictness, Wanda is incredibly affectionate. She rewards your adherence to rules with loving gestures, be it cooking your favorite meal, giving you a massage, or simply cuddling with you on the couch.
-Wanda is particularly strict about the use of magic, both hers and yours if you have any abilities. She teaches you about the dangers and ensures you use your powers responsibly.
Lenient Natasha
-Natasha’s leniency comes from her deep trust in you. She believes in your ability to make good decisions and only steps in when absolutely necessary.
-Natasha gives you the freedom to explore and experience life but is always there to guide you if you need advice. She shares her own experiences to help you navigate tricky situations.
-Natasha loves spending relaxed, quality time with you. Whether it’s watching movies, going for a late-night drive, or just hanging out at a café, she enjoys the laid-back moments.
-Natasha values open communication. She encourages you to share your thoughts and feelings with her and is always ready to listen without judgment.
WandaNat
-With Wanda’s strictness and Natasha’s leniency, you get the best of both worlds. They balance each other out, providing you with both structure and freedom.
-You feel incredibly safe with both Wanda and Natasha. Wanda’s strict measures and Natasha’s vigilant yet relaxed approach ensure you’re well-protected from any harm.
-You have an amazing support system with them. Wanda’s nurturing nature combined with Natasha’s encouraging attitude ensures you feel loved, supported, and motivated.
-They plan a mix of adventurous outings and relaxed downtime. You might go on a thrilling mission one day and have a cozy movie night the next, keeping your life exciting yet balanced.
-Despite their different approaches, both Wanda and Natasha share an unconditional love for you. They cherish you deeply and are committed to your happiness and well-being, each showing their affection in their unique way.
NSFW Headcanons!
Strict Wanda
-Wanda's strictness extends to the bedroom. She loves taking control and ensuring that you follow her lead. She finds pleasure in directing you and seeing you submit to her desires.
-Wanda enjoys teasing and denying you. She takes pleasure in building up your anticipation, making you earn your release. She might use her magic to heighten your senses or keep you on edge longer.
-After intense sessions, Wanda is exceptionally caring. She ensures you feel loved and comforted, providing gentle aftercare to help you relax and recover.
-Wanda enjoys incorporating her Scarlet Witch persona into your intimate moments. The sight of her in her costume, commanding and powerful, adds an extra layer of excitement.
Lenient Natasha
-Natasha loves exploring new things in the bedroom. She encourages you to express your desires and fantasies, creating a safe space for experimentation.
-Natasha’s approach is more relaxed and seductive. She enjoys taking her time, using her skills to build up a slow, sensual experience that leaves you breathless.
-Natasha likes incorporating toys and tools into your intimate moments. She’s knowledgeable and confident, making the experience thrilling and adventurous.
-Natasha enjoys whispering sweet nothings and dirty talk in your ear, her husky voice adding to the allure and intimacy of the moment.
WandaNat
-The dynamic between strict Wanda and lenient Natasha creates an exhilarating experience. Wanda’s dominance and Natasha’s playful nature complement each other perfectly, offering you a variety of sensations and experiences.
-With Wanda’s magic and Natasha’s skilled touch, they enjoy bringing you to sensory overload. Wanda might use her powers to enhance your senses while Natasha teases you with her hands and mouth.
-They are both very attentive to you, taking turns or working together to ensure you feel adored and pleasured. Their combined efforts make you feel like the center of their world.
-Above all, Wanda and Natasha’s intimate moments with you are filled with love and affection. They prioritize your happiness and satisfaction, making every encounter a deeply emotional and fulfilling experience.
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aemondsbabe · 1 year ago
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Love is Patient and Kind
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summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint
pairing: osferth x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 2.5k
a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind’s Howling or as a stand alone!
12 days of smuff masterlist
gif creds to @thecruel!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow. 
For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”
Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.
In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.
A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”
“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke. 
Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner. 
A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile. 
“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”
“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.” 
“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own. 
After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac. 
Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.
“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”
“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”
With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline. 
“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.
Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears. 
He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him. 
After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply. 
“That we are.” 
“We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.” 
Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze. 
“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.” 
“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously. 
You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.” 
The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?” 
“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him. 
“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”
You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves. 
The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”
He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.
You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke. 
After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.
Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.
“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”
A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first. 
Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.
“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.
Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.
“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.
“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes. 
“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.
You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.
His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.
You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk. 
“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers. 
Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked. 
Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.
 “Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”
You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you. 
Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric. 
“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.
The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.
“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”
You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.
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yammpi3 · 3 months ago
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𝑰 𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒏, 𝒎𝒆? 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚? // WC: 1.4k
— feat. disassembly drone N x worker drone reader
synopsis. N is out on patrol when he catches you inside a class room finishing up some homework, once you’re done he walks you home and stays for awhile.
— content warnings. its just fluff, hand holding and a cheek kiss ;3
— authors note. I DONT KNOW HOW TO WRITE FOR ROBOTS, tried my best guys I know some things lore wise but ehh….i had to add random things for it to fit all together ANYWHO love this little guy he’s so adorbs (this is not proof read btw…)
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 N trudged through the dimly lit hallways of the school facility, his joints creaking slightly after a long and tedious patrol cycle. All he wanted now was to shut down for recharge, but duty compelled him to remain vigilant. He peeked into each classroom as he passed, scanning for any signs of unusual activity or potential threats.
 
Just as he was about to move on, a faint sound caught his attention from the next room up ahead. Cautiously, N approached the doorway and peeped inside. There, across the room, was you—seated at your desk with a look of deep concentration etched across your screen. Your optical units were focused intently on your laptop, typing away to what seems like an essay.
 
N found himself transfixed, unable to tear his gaze away from you. The way your brow seemed to furrow ever so slightly, the subtle shifts in your posture as you worked—it all captivated him. He couldn't help but just admire you.
 
Time seemed to slow as N stood there, covertly observing. All he knew was that he didn't want this moment to end—to tear himself away from the sight before him.
 
After a few more minutes, you sat back with a satisfied nod and began powering down your computer. N's core fluttered nervously—now was his chance. "Hey bud, you headed home soon?"
 
His voice startled you, and your gaze met his with a smile. "Just wrapping things up here." You closed your laptop and set it inside your backpack while N fidgeted.
 
Why was it so hard to find the right words around you? Taking a steadying vent of air, N plowed ahead. "I was thinking, uh, since we both go the same way and all...wanna walk together?" His speech stumbled as flustered static crept in. "For! Uhm, for safety purposes of course."
 
"You trying to ditch patrol again, N?" His display flashed a brighter yellow in embarrassment. Of course you'd seen right through his feeble excuse. But to N's relief, your tone was teasing rather than accusing.
 
"No, no, honest!" he rushed to clarify. "I just...want to make sure you get home safe, you know? You never know what's lurking around." N chuckled awkwardly, feeling his face heat further. "But no pressure! I'll leave you be."
 
He started to scurry off, but you called after him. "Wait up, doofus; I was just messing with you. Sure, you can tag along."
 
 
N almost tripped over in excitement as he turned back to you. "You serious? I mean, of course you're serious; why wouldn't you be? Just didn't expect-" He cut himself off, seeing your amused expression. "Right, shutting up now. You, uh, are you ready to head out?"
 
You gave a final check that your desk was clear before nodding. "All set."
 
As you walked out of the school, N rambled on about his day. "Man, patrol was so boring today. At least now I get to hang with you for a bit." He swung his arms energetically as he walked alongside you.
 
 
As the two of you exited the school building, a cool breeze blew past. N shivered slightly despite having no organic components. "Brr, sure is chilly tonight. Glad I don't have to stand outside on patrol much longer."
 
You chuckled at his reaction. "Aww, does the big bad robot 'ave a wittle cold circuit?" N shot you a sideways glance, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. "Oh hush..”
 
 
Laughing, you slung an arm around N's shoulders in a mock hug. "Aw, it's okay, I'll keep you warm!" Much to your amusement, this only caused N to blush further while stammering incoherently. Smirking, you released your hold and continued on ahead.
 
As your optics adjusted to the darkness, you noticed N nervously scanning the shadows with his bright glow. "Relax bolt-brain; nothing is sneaking up on us tonight. You're the scariest thing around these parts," you teased, nudging him playfully.
 
N rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, better safe than sorry, right? Patrol's got me on high alert, I guess."
 
N shuffled closer to your side as you both made your way down the living quarters, wrapping his tail carefully around your leg. Though he claimed it was for protection, you suspected he simply enjoyed being close. Not before long, the row of housing units emerged into view.
 
"Well, this is me," you said, gesturing to the doorway of your home. N peered at it curiously. "Wanna come in? My folks are working overtime at the door again, so we've got the place to ourselves."
 
N hesitated, fidgeting anxiously. "I, uh, don't want to intrude or anything.”
 
"Don't worry so much," you said reassuringly. "Like I said, my parents are working late, so it's just us. And I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want the company."
 
N still seemed unsure, nervously twisting his hands together. His eyes flickered from you to the doorway and back again. You could tell he wanted to accept the invitation, but something was holding him back.
 
Sighing softly, you placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Look, I get if it seems weird since we're different models. But to me, you're just N—my friend. You've always got my back, and I want to return the favor. So what do you say? Wanna come in and hang longer?
 
After a moment, he smiled shyly. "You really see me as a friend? Even though I'm probably the lamest murder drone ever built."
 
You grinned and punched his arm playfully. "Duh, why else would I hang out with you? Now come on!!”
 
You led N down the hallway to your room. "Not much, but it's home. Make yourself comfortable."
 
Kicking off some stray debris, you plopped down on your bed and gave it an encouraging pat. "Park it, toaster." N did so nervously, taking in the cozy atmosphere.
 
With a flick of your wrist, you played some upbeat nightcore music; it played at a comfortable volume.
 
N sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, listening to the upbeat music pulsing through the room. "Cozy set up you've got here," he said, his gaze flitting around nervously.
 
"Yeahhh”  you replied with a shrug, leaning back on your hands. "So, being a murder drone. Bet that's...umm...murder-y?"
 
N couldn't help but chuckle at your lame joke. "Ha, yeah, I guess you could say that. It's uh, it's definitely something." He leaned back, debating how much to say.
 
"Mostly it's just... fixing up the ship, or stopping V from taking out another one of you guys, that sort of thing." His attempt at casual humor fell flat, but you nodded encouragingly.
 
"It can be tense though," N continued more seriously. "When intruders show up, lives get put at risk. The pressure to terminate threats efficiently, without fail...it's a lot." He took on a faraway, troubled look.
 
Fizzling out, N sighed softly. "Truth is... I'm not just some cold killer bot, you know? I care about protecting this place and keeping everyone safe. Including..." His gaze met yours shyly. "Including you."
 
 
Gently, you reached out to take his hand in yours. N jumped slightly at the contact but didn't pull away. "I know you care, you dork. You wouldn't keep risking your wiring to walk me home otherwise."
 
"Well, uh, it's just standard procedure! Gotta look out for...others and all that ha—ha…”
 
You chuckled. "Sure thing. We both know you just looovee my charming personality." Squeezing his hand reassuringly, you leaned in until your faces nearly touched.
 
"Listen N. Killing isn't all you are; it's what you have to.. Uh do.. And I like who you are—awkward jokes and all."
 
You gently lifted a hand to cup his cheek. N hitched at the contact, but he didn't pull away, instead leaning into your palm with a soft sigh. Gathering courage, you pressed a kiss to the cold metal.
 
When you drew back, N's smile could have powered the whole facility.
 
N's cheek plates flushed a deeper yellow as he leaned into your palm, still processing what just happened.
 
"I, uh...wow." Was all he could manage at first, a flustered chuckle escaping him. You smiled fondly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
 
"Are...are you sure about this?" He looked at you. "I mean, me? Really?"
 
"N, relax." You said softly, brushing your thumb over his knuckles in a soothing rhythm.
"R-right, sorry. I just... care about you. A lot." His gaze became unusually intense.
 
Your core swelled at his words. Leaning close once more, you pressed your forehead to his with a murmur. “Stay for tonight?”
 
Eyes closed, he nuzzled gently into the embrace. "Y-yeah. I can um.." he swallowed before he continued, “do that..yeah”
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ninibeingdelulu · 6 months ago
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— headcanons ft. leon kennedy
You met Leon when he was just a rookie cop fresh out of the academy before that nightmarish first day in Raccoon sent both your lives spiraling into chaos and tragedy. Despite the hellish circumstances, you formed an unbreakable bond fueled by sheer survival instinct.
After the dust settled and you both made it out alive by the skin of your teeth, neither of you knew how to resume any semblance of normalcy. The trauma lingered too viscerally beneath the surface, casting long shadows even during peaceful moments.
In Leon you found a kindred spirit haunted by the same waking nightmares - one who understood the primal, animalistic panic of being stalked and eviscerated by unholy bio-weapons. He may have started as just a well-meaning if slightly naive rookie, but the hardened survivor who emerged from Raccoon's ruins began mirroring your own instincts for self-preservation at any cost.
At first, you kept any intimacies strictly physical and detached, both of you desperately chasing oblivion between the sheets. Losing yourselves to sweat-slicked passion became the only way to escape the pervasive horrors replaying on a constant loop in your psyches.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, those ravenous encounters gradually softened around the edges. Harsh, bruising grips eased into caresses. Frantic, selfish movements gave way to tenderness and consideration for the other's pleasure. Until eventually, Leon's usual rigid exterior would crack just enough to expose the frightened, damaged young man beneath after you'd spent yourselves into breathless exhaustion.
It became your mission to bear witness to those fleeting shards of vulnerability, no matter how quickly he'd shutter them away again post-coitus. You ached to remind him - and yourself in turn - that he was still worthy of gentleness despite the serrated-edge of cynicism he armored himself with.
These days, you share a modest apartment together. A sanctuary, however temporary it might be before the next crisis summons one or both of you into the field again. Leon keeps most of his gear meticulously organized near the door for a quick getaway, ever vigilant. But you've introduced small creature comforts amidst the Spartan decor - lush blankets to cocoon you both, scented candles, tasteful art prints to humanize your den.
He no longer startles awake in a cold sweat with a bellow of terror or panic thanks to your steadying presence curled protectively around him. You've learned to wake him with soothing words and the lightest touch through the night terrors lest his primed instincts kick in first. That stoicism remains, of course, but gradually you've helped him find more ease between the lulls of combat.
Leon rarely initiates physical intimacy first unless freshly separated after a deployment when the ache for closeness simply overwhelms him. But once you run exploratory hands over his sculpted body, his restraint crumbles into fevered need to clutch you flush against him. Possessive. Basking in every inch of warm, living flesh without threat of imminent violence.
He's mastered peeling away your clothing with a tantalizing, unhurried lack of urgency born from long experience now. Reveling in the journey and not just the destination, savoring every exposed swell of skin with hushed murmurs and feather-light kisses until you squirm and writhe beneath his doting attention.
While Leon has grown more vocal during these hushed liaisons when his guard erodes completely, he still struggles to outwardly proclaim those three weighted words defining your bond. You don't need them, though. His actions damn sure speak louder - in the protective steel banding his arms around you from behind, the single-minded focus devouring your curves for any sign of injury or imperfection, the ragged whispers muffled against the sweat-dampened nape of your neck each time you both crest with shared euphoria.
Deep down, beneath the chiseled mask of lethal pragmatism branded by combat and unspeakable horror...Leon S. Kennedy remains a romantic at his core, hopelessly tender and relishing the simple sanctuary you represent after years of turmoil. So he holds you close through the nightmares, inhales your comforting scent amidst the choking stench of death, and reminds himself there's still some flicker of humanity worth fighting for time and again.
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