#SOMEONE ALERT THE PRESS
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the way Obi-Wan writes about Cody in his journal is so tender for a lot of reasons but one iâm thinking about a lot is how itâs probably one of the very, VERY few remaining pieces that preserves who Commander Cody ACTUALLY was, outside of the chip and being forced into Order 66.
Obi-Wan is memorializing Cody along with all the people who were important to him for Luke and anyone who comes after to see because he knows no one else will and also that no one else spent the war with Cody like he did and got to know him in that strange, intimate way of being on the front lines together.
heâs keeping Cody alive in those pages despite everything, despite not knowing the truth about the chips. ohhh im so ill
#codywan#cody tag#sw#tcw#obi wan kenobi#commander cody#ben rambles#UGH im so so so ill#BEYOND SICK EVEN!!#WOW⊠BEN POSTING ABOUT CODYWAN?!?!! IN NOVEMBER OF 2023?!!?!!??#SOMEONE ALERT THE PRESS
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waitâŠ. does this mean nika could be fruity if sheâs reading this fanfiction
YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING
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Chapter 5: A Family Christmas
âAlright, Harry, what will you ask Father Christmas for this year?â Sirius asked as they got closer to their destination.
Harry's face lit up with excitement as he pondered his wish. "I'd like a new set of junior Quidditch balls!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm evident in every word.
Sirius grinned and squeezed Harry's hand affectionately. "That sounds like a fantastic gift choice, Harry. I'm sure Father Christmas will take note of that."
Unbeknownst to Harry, Sirius had already purchased the new set of Quidditch balls and had them waiting to be wrapped in the back of his wardrobe, a surprise that he couldn't wait to see Harry's reaction to on Christmas morning.
âWhat about you, Nev?â Sirius looked over at Neville, who was clutching to his grandfatherâs arm, clearly weary of the busy streets and trying not to bump into strangers.Â
âUmm, Iâd like a broom,â Neville voiced hesitantly, âso I can learn how to fly. But I donât think Gran will let me fly on a broom yet, so maybe Iâll ask for new gobstones and Martin Miggs comics.â
#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter#sirius black#good godfather sirius black#sirius raises harry au#is it true? did I actually update Snuffles & Son?#someone alert the press this is huge
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Hello Raccoon, I trust that you are feeling hydrated this evening? It is me, Tomb Anon, the one who keeps forgetting to sign his posts (pronoun reveal đš). I am at a crossroads, I am either going to play a game or watch an anime but unfortunately my dog fell asleep on my lap and she is a heavy beast, when my dad comes in the room and she gets up to go ask for cuddles from him, which should I do?
-Me, Tomb Anon
yes i was totally hydrated last night (i actually drank water, gasp)
i believe i am late to answer this but oh well, i say play a game
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Itâs almost 6 a.m and I canât sleep because Iâm being plagued by thoughts of The Latest OC
#Kat and Nia and their multiverse of madness#Jia is genuinely making me lose my mind#right now the aftermath interests me a bit more because I live for emotional whump and angst#just.. imagine being her parents#you beg for your daughterâs life and your plea is listened to. sheâs released. having proved herself useless. you barely recognise her#sheâs nothing like the upbeat and cheerful girl you raised who loved working in this palace. who loved her lady#sheâs so thin. hollow cheeks and empty eyes. she barely reacts to anything but Lord Jusamahâs voice which makes her flinch#youâre afraid to even hug her in case she disappears like a ghost would. something is very very wrong with her#you remember the rumours that she was tortured for the information. she looks like sheâs starving#itâs clear she was hurt. she wouldnât act like this if she wasnât. âyouâre scared to think of what is hidden beneath her clothes#you want to lunge at Lord Jusamah and strangle him with your bare hands. inflict everything heâs done to your daughter on him tenfold#but you canât. heâs rich and you arenât. he has power and you donât. if you try.. none of you are seeing the sun ever again#you barely care. it would be worth it. but you have two other children to worry about. and Jia deserves her freedom#so all you can do is drop to your knees. press your forehead to the floor. and thank him for his kindness#you tell Jia that youâre taking her home. alertness returns to her for but a moment#âhome?â her whisper sounds so sad. so broken. you can barely stand it#you rush home as fast as you can. sheâs so skittish it hurts. she feels the sun on her face and doesnât move for a good 10 minutes#you canât bring yourself to say anything. one of you goes ahead to warn the family so the children wonât crowd her#you finally make it to your house and Jia looks at it as if it was a mirage. she touches the wall to ensure itâs real#the first thing you do is help her take a bath. the sight of her back fuels you with bloodlust. thereâs no untouched spot on it#your sweet gentle girl was whipped until criss crossing scars covered every last inch. it must have been hell#you bandage her wounds and take her to eat. she gorges herself on it as if someone would take it away. some light returns to her eyes#she always had a good appetite. at least that didnât change. after lunch you let her sleep in your own bed#instead of making her share with her siblings and cousins. she needs space. she passes out the second her head hits the pillow#you stay and keep watch. and when the first night terror occurs. youâre ready. her screams are impossibly loud#you wake her. calm her down and hold her hand as she falls back asleep. recovery wonât be an easy road#but you walk it anyway. and with time. she gets better. she returns to her old self. only some traces of that horror remain#sheâs happy again. smiles a lot. helps out. plays with the younger kids. sheâs the Jia you know and love#she has nightmares. her scars hurt. no one touches her back. sheâs paranoid about food. but sheâll be okay. youâre sure of it#(I reached the tag limit again but at least I said all I had in mind. but I could probably ramble on about this for agesâŠ)
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Credit goes to YouTube channel @kkotova1
#reblogs#bg3#astarion#these lines get me every time#someone help#aggressively pressing my life alert
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â hybrids â f! cat x doberman ghost! + heat + virginity loss + squirting + implied pregnancy/breeding âËâĄ
where you go into heat, and your not-so-new friend simon helps you.
when price finally brought simon home, you did not take it all too kindly. only familiar with the presence of price and few other hybrids (being a house cat and all, always preferring to stay home), you grew uptight at the new imposing presence at your home. you knew price was only trying to look out for you by gifting you a companion, someone you could cling to when he was away, yet he also knew how shy you were too which could translate to unwelcoming behaviour towards those who are unacquainted with you.
simon having been briefed by price of your shy tendencies played along, preferring to wait until you grew accustomed to his presence around the house. which admittedly took... quite a while. price having been home for the start of simon's stay to get you on friendly terms did little to help, only making you ever so clingier.
when it came to just the both of you within the confines of your home, you avoided him with an admirable amount of effort. he knew it wasn't that you disliked him, you just haven't gotten to know him and how could you when you'd scramble if he walked into a room you were currently in? or if he'd be leaning on the doorframe of your shared bathroom waiting for you to finish your lengthy baths, the scent of your bathbomb wafting through the crack of the doorway your humming gleefully at the warmth of the water clear to his impeccable hearing, doberman hybrid and all does little to quell his ever growing fascination in you.
the week leading up to your heat (not that he knew), was filled with uncommon behaviour from you, once an early riser now you woke later into the day, your sweet scent heightened keeping him alert of your whereabouts throughout the house. your usually energetic self, that always found a way to keep busy around the house also grew tired easier, which was how he found you sprawled out on the couch late at night, a show you were keen on running on the tv. gathering your weak form in his arms, he lifted you up bridal style making sure to cradle your head in his arm.
your eyes opened briefly, jolting awake as you realized who was currently holding you and walking you towards your bedroom, before you gave in to the lethargy that seemed to engulf your body. letting him carry you up the stairs, his scent overwhelming your senses leaving your body the slightest bit feverish.
"i don't feel so good." your words coming out barely more than a whisper into the chilly night air, lights dimmed out due to the hour.
"i can see that, let me take care of you yeah? " his arms wrapping tighter around your form as he rounds the corner to your bedroom, tucking you in, and closing the door softly behind him before placing a call to price.
"...the date of her heats are usually irregular, but she's probably going into one soon." price's voice crackles through the phone speaker, as simon's brow furrows.
"what can i do to help her?" simon's reply earns a small huff from price, who's answer has simon's cock growing hard in his trousers imagining you begging for him.
"you can help her but only if she asks, she probably will though. god knows you feel much better than her dildo does."
the next morning he was greeted with the overwhelming scent of your slick, your warm body atop him, bare tits pressed against his chest, his blanket pushed aside so your wet little pussy could rub on his still covered hard on. every pass of his cock spreading open your pretty pussy, his tip catching onto your clit creating pleasurable friction.
"what's all this about angel? where did my shy girl go hm?"
"m' sorry si, need you..." his hands go to guiding your hips, as they grew sloppier. your wetness creating a patch on his boxers outlining his hard cock.
"s' alright pretty, i've got you." tipping your chin up to meet his gaze as he connects your lips to his, softly pecking them as a form of reassurance. price said to take things slow and he promised to try, you had no qualms kissing him back so sweetly as he cradled your cheek in his palm. with your pussy still rubbing on his cock, he moved you to lay below him lifting his body enough to peel his boxers off.
spreading your legs to expose your wet cunt, little hole twitching and leaking slick. your little clit glistening in the early morning sunrise, as he circles it softly with the head of his cock, dragging it down to your pool of slick and up to nudge against your clit, swiping it back and forth as you writhed on the bed moaning for him to,
"put it in now please si."
"so wet angel, i could just slip right in yeah?"
"'mhm! s' wet for you."
"such a good girl, so pretty for like this for me."
he positions the head of his cock on your hole, the both of you gasping as it enters. all the while rubbing your clit softly with his thumb, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, cheeks and lips. your pussy halfway enveloping his fat cock as your legs tremble softly, your hole clenching rhythmically at his intrusion. your hands go to his biceps as you feel the knot in your stomach growing ever so tighter, just from him putting his cock in. you've had a dildo and a couple pleasurable vibrators before to help you through your heat but never an actual cock, the feeling of his big cock entering your practically virgin hole was too much to bear, even more so as he rubbed at your clit so sweetly to build enough pleasure and wetness to take his cock. before you knew it, you were cumming hard on his cock a soft gasp left you as he worked you through your strong orgasm, clenching hard on his fat cock.
"so pretty... that was a nice one hm lovie, that feel good for your little pussy sweetheart yeah? y' love my fat cock stretching out your hole so much you can't help it huh."
"s' too big si..." you sobbed out as his fingers kept strumming your clit, prolonging your orgasm.
"you're taking it so well though sweetheart, i'm almost there baby. you can cum as much as you want angel."
your orgasm which left you wetter than before made it easier for him to ease his cock inside, groaning at your warmth as he bottomed out. he zoned in on where your eyes were currently resting, the filthy sight of your pussy plugged full of his cock as he took a testing shallow thrust, a mewl leaving your lips.
"your pussy's so pretty full of my cock sweetheart, you're taking it so well, 'm so proud baby."
"what do you say sweetheart?" he says, pulling his cock out halfway, watching as his cock slips out coated in your slick and cum.
"thank you si-i!" he slammed his hips once, again filling your pussy up full and catching you off guard.
his thrusts left you breathless as you looked into his eyes, pleading for anything and everything at all once. your current state of heat left your cheeks perpetually flushed which he found charming, your eyes fluttering, for someone who was practically begging to be fucked just this morning, he loved your sweet, shy and soft little mewls. slotting your lips together to meet for a kiss, one that you so kindly and eagerly return, he knows he's found your spot as a sweet little gasp leaves your lips. he rests his forehead to yours as you lock your feet on his back, your pussy clenching erratically as a telltale sign that you were approaching your orgasm.
"wanna cum si!"
"go ahead baby."
pulling out most of the way, he thrusts in to be met by a spurt of clear liquid splashing and splattering onto your stomach, his pelvis and abs. every time he pulls out the slightest bit to slam his cock back in to your tight squirting heat, he earns another splash of clear liquid that's prompted by his thrusts. the hot sight of you squirting uncontrollably whilst crying softly on his cock prompts his own orgasm, and pumping his load into you.
"made such a cute mess on my cock baby hm? my shy angel's a squirter huh?" he says as he pulls his cock out fully, rubbing his cock fast over your clit to be met by more messy squirts, his thick load now seeping out of your little hole.
"m s-sorry si, it's embarrasing." you choke out amidst sobs where he gathers you in his arms, sitting up and places you on top of him. opening your legs to scoop up his leaking cum and shoving back into your hole, which makes you squeal.
"no need to be sorry sweetheart, 'm so glad i made you feel so good."
you hid your face in his neck as you sunk back down on his hard cock, seeing his cum leaking out of your pussy was an extremely erotic sight to him. your heat making you insatiable for the need of another orgasm.
"go ahead sweet girl, ride me baby, use me all you want."
and you do, if it wasn't evident enough with the protruding bump on your belly with a possessive hand resting over it upon price's return wasn't clear enough, you were having simon's pups.
â hi omg um this was just like something i spewed out from my brain deliriously over the course of a couple midnights i acc kinda wanna continue it or make a couple parts of it ... haven't rlly made an intro post but i'm planning to soon .á ⥠also reqs are open but i'm having midterms rn so if you do plan to leave anything on there might not get around to it for a while :(
ᥣđ© header by cafekitsune .
#ghost smut#simon riley smut#cod smut#konig smut#price smut#ghost x reader smut#simon riley x reader smut#smut#fairiewrites#soap smut#cod mw2#cod mwii#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#simon ghost x reader#call of duty#simon riley x reader#mw2 ghost#ghost#ghost x f!reader#ghost x reader#simon riley#mw2 x reader#mw2 2022#cod#cod modern warfare#mw2 smut#ghost call of duty#ghost fanfiction
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do you think your story is going to end the way you want it too?
He had a good thought about this once before. The stories of his cousin ringing in his head, the unfinished stories of good people he had left with only to never returnâŠ
âProbably wonât, but Iâd like tâ think itâd be enough no matter how it ends, yâknow?â Another pause, frowning a bit as he waved a hand. ïżœïżœLikeâalright, so yâ dinnae exactly sign up for this sort oâ life expecting to live long ân all, but you sign up wanting to make a difference. Probâly nae the kinâ you thought at first, but after a while you just⊠accept that maybe whatever goal yâ had at firstâs a wee bit outta yer touch. Nae gonna have time tâ worry âbout the wouldâve ân the couldâve so⊠gonna choose to be proud of the whatâs happened.â
#intel report «€» ( in character#debriefing due now «€» ( asks#soap has a rare moment of introspection someone alert the press
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changed my blog name again!!
rhaenyra-t âââ> queen-helaena
#alert the press#big step for someone who hates change#now i am firmly aligned with team green đ#no one can accuse me of being team bl***k đ€ą#jk some of yâall are cool#but the rest of youâŠâŠ.
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kieumyvusâ>cherrygrenade
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Note: Wow, the roommate!Simon story blew up. Anyway, here's part 2.
Following his conversation with Johnny, Simon begins to think. He begins to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, heâs developing feelings for you. Why else would he be so protective and mad when the sergeant talks this way about you? The thought scares him at first.
For one, being near him is a death sentence, he saw that with his family. He canât even imagine surviving losing someone he loved again. Then there is another thing, the fact he isnât sure you would return his feelings. If you didnât, as he suspects, living with you would be torture, and heâs honestly too lazy to look for a new place to stay.
The next time he arrives home in the middle of the day, the apartment is empty since youâre at your workplace most probably. Not seeing your face brighten at the sight of him makes his heart ache, but he knows youâll be home in two or three hours, so he can most certainly survive that by lying down to catch up on sleep. He leaves a post-it for you on the small table next to the front door where you always put your keys, warning you that heâs back home.
Heâs woken by the smell of fresh coffee and something sweet. When he checks the clock on his bedside, he notices itâs past seven, which means he slept a good four hours without interruptions. The new record of the past weeks as the most he slept peacefully was two hours tops. He climbs out of bed and goes to the living room, surprised to see you in the kitchen, humming a song to yourself as you admire the neatly cut brownies on the kitchen island.
âYouâre awake!â you exclaim happily, quickly pressing a button on the coffee machine to make him some coffee too, then pick up an empty plate and put a slice of brownie on it. âWelcome home. Here, try this. I thought you might use some homemade things after being away for so long.â
That damn smile of yours. Itâs wide, happy, and it easily warms his heart and makes him smile too. Your good mood is infectious and he finds himself stuffing the cookie into his mouth as he stands next to you, nudging your side with his hip playfully. âItâs perfect, thank you,â he says while chewing, earning a roll of your eyes. You hate it when someone talks with their mouth full, so he quickly swallows the remains and goes, âSorry.â
You shake your head with a laugh then turn away to get his coffee. Simon canât help but wonder if this is how things would always be if you were his wife, if you would be this kind and caring all the time. He certainly could get used to this. He wouldnât believe he deserves all the love, but he would definitely enjoy your attention.
âWhat got you thinking so hard?â
Simon lets out a questioning hum before realizing he zoned out for a while. âYou,â he replies honestly.
âMe?â
âMm-hmm.â Before you could ask more questions, he moves in front of you, trapping you between the kitchen island and his body as he leans down to you. âI had an interesting conversation with someone and it got me thinking while I was gone,â he says with his lips moving so close he almost kisses you. âDo you have any idea how much I miss you when Iâm deployed? How many times do I wonder what youâre doing while Iâm away?â
Itâs easy to tell, especially from this close, that your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat as you watch him. Your eyes are moving back and forth between his lips and his eyes, unable to decide what to focus on. Youâre both under a spell that he doesnât want to break, in fact he wants this moment to last forever, this anticipation before he finally makes up his mind to kiss you. He wants to do it, but he canât help but think about whether or not you would be against it.
Maybe he thinks too much, maybe his brain is too focused on the negative thoughts, and before he knows it, you move your head to capture his lips with yours in a slow and sensual kiss. Simon is aware that he has issues. He understands that his brain is only on high alert because deep down he doesnât believe he deserves your attention. After all, heâs not a good man. Well, not always. He does his job like a good little soldier, but the lines are blurry between good and bad.
He knows that you know this too. Shortly after he moved in and found out what he did for a living, you had a lot of questions, many that he simply wasnât allowed to answer. But you probably sensed that he was keeping things to himself, certain aspects of this position that civilians would never understand. He didnât want to scare you away, he didnât want you to throw him out, so he kept his mouth shut. You knew that and never pried for more information.
When your nails dig into the skin on his back in a desperate attempt to pull him closer, Simon finally returns to the moment, returning your delicious kiss while his hands grab your ass and help you on the counter behind you. His lips trail from your lips to the shell of your ear, whispering praises until he feels your hands moving to his belt.
As much as he wants that, he knows he has to stop you. So he reaches down to grab your hands, pulling them away and lacing his fingers with yours as he kisses the tip of your nose. âNot yet, love. Letâs go on a proper date first, yeah?â he asks you with a small smile.
You whine, then you beg for more, asking him why you have to go on a date when you've been living together for over a year now. He tells you that the reason is simple; he spent a bigger part of it away from home so you have to get to know each other.
âI know you, Simon,â you push on, your fingers tracing the tattoos on his forearm as you speak. When you see the determination in his eyes, you finally let out a sigh of defeat and say, âOkay, fine. Let's go on a date first. But don't even think about something fancy. Let's keep it simple.â
With a short laugh, he leans down to give you a quick kiss. âUnderstood.â
Later in the evening, way past eleven, the two of you finally say goodnight and he returns to his room. There's a message waiting on his phone, one that came from Johnny. âIâll send her a DM if you won't introduce me,â it says.
âBetter not. She's taken,â he replies.
#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#call of duty#simon riley x reader#mw2#modern warfare#mw3#john soap mactavish#john mactavish
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Katsuki dating obliviously hot reader:
Characters aged up
Kinda smutty
Katsuki doesnât even really see people in a hot or non hot way but thenâŠ. in walks you. The person that has him a blubbering, babbling mess. He thinks itâs insane, how fucking amazing you look all the time and itâs hard to control himself around you.
Youâre at a party and you were dancing on him. In the middle of you pretty much dry humping him, Mina pulls you away from him and toward her. The thing is before he can hide it, she looks down at his groin and BAM
âDude I can see your hard on through your pants.â And all your other friends turn around and start trying to see.
The blondeâs face now has a deep blush but he speak in an even tone. âYea well yall would be too if someone as hot as Y/N was dancing on you. Too bad you losers get no play.â
He then rips you back outta Minaâs arms and spins you around so your back is to his front yet again. He has his dick placed snuggly against your clothes between your cheeks.
You guys are going out on a date and youâre bloated asf and nothing looks right. Youâve changed outfits like 4 times now and Kats in starvin.
He comes barging in the room and your in long sleeve shirt with a thigh length skirt and some cute shoes. Youâre in the mirror adjusting and leaning towards a hell no when you hear him whisper under his breath, âdamnâ
âDo I look bad? I feel gross. Maybe we can get takeout and just stay here.â
âGross? You gotta be fucking kiddin me. We are going to go out and Iâm gonna be trying my damndest not to beat the shit out of the sea of guys that are gonna be eye fucking you and youâre calling yourself gross. Grab your damn purse and letâs go y/n.â
Well then. Guess you cant argue with that.
Youâre at the gym together and you were both doing your own things. Youâre on the treadmill when some guy comes up on the one next to you and starts talking.
It seems harmless enough so you engage him for a while until you get a text alert on your phone. When you check Kit Kat is on the screen so you open the message.
Kit Kat: come here.
Thatâs random so you look up to find where he is in the gym and discover hes near the weights. When you lock eyes with him, you see murder in his eyes.
Aww fuck. Heâs pissed. You know your man is territorial, but damn.
You excuse yourself from the conversation you were only half heartedly invested in and walk over to him.
âLook it wasnât-â but your words are cut off from his lips pressing against yours and you feel his hand graze over your ass.
Youâre glad the gym is half empty cuz damn.
âThat idiots been looking at my ass in these tights since you walked in. Iâm gonna have to put a fucking taken sticker on your forehead.â, he growled low next to your ear.
âInstead of all that, you can just put a ring on my finger.â You say smugly.
He chuckles at you, âyea thatâs probably a better option.â
Katsuki Masterlist
@justbepeace
#imagine#bakugou x reader#mha fanfiction#bakugou drabble#drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugou katsuki#bakugo headcanons#fluff#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#katsuku bakugo smut#katsuki bakugo smut#bakugou katsuki smut#katsuki smut#bakugo smut
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home invasion
neighbor!simon, gender-neutral reader, fluff, implied violence
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there was someone in your room.
you had fallen asleep on your living room couch, soothed by the sounds of trashy reality tv show. however, some creeping sensation overcame you, cold hands tickling your spine, waking you up with a bucket of ice water. you lay absolutely still as you heard sounds of someone rummaging through your things. thankfully your apartment walls were thin, so you heard them closing drawers loudly, as if they didn't think you were home. you started running situations through your head, ones where you called the police and they came too late, your trespasser having heard the phone call. there was only one decision to make.
silently, like you were five again and playing hide and seek, you moved towards your door. thankfully your door didn't squeak as blood rushing was the only sound running through your head. you left the door slightly ajar as you sprinted down the hall to his door.
"simon!" you whisper yelled, knocking furiously but trying not to alert the intruder at the same time. tears were gathering in your eyes, ones of frustration of having your safe space broken into. finally, after what felt like an hour, the lock clicked and he opened the door.
simon was grumpy. he had just started to fall asleep, that elusive feeling he was always chasing these days, never quite catching it. he was about to tell you such until he saw your eyes glistening, hands gripping your blanket fiercely. "theresanintruderinmyroomhesinmy" you sputtered, absolutely distraught.
"slow down, lovie. wha' happened?" fuck, he wasn't supposed to call you that. he was supposed to keep his distance and not be one of those creeps you complained about. and now he had fucked it up and- "there's someone in my apartment. in my bedroom. going through my things. i knew the cops wouldn't come fast enough so i just thought-" he interrupted you, opening his door just wide enough to shove you through it. fast as a whip, he turned around, kissing your forehead through his mask and murmuring "lock it behind me." then he was gone, your vengeful grim reaper stalking down the hall to his next victim.
ten minutes later, the clock in the kitchen ticking slower than humanly possible, you spotted him closing the door of your apartment, shoulders bunched around his ears. you were pressed against the peephole and opened the door for him as he neared. "simon? what happened?" his eyes were black pits in his head, pupils blown wide by some intangible force. bloodlust. he reached behind you, triple checking the lock, before turning on the light. you gasped.
his knuckles were bloody, gray shirt disheveled, like someone tried to claw it. his mask was askew, shoved up as if someone tried to pull it off but was stopped before they got the chance. he pulled your forehead to his, souls touching in some intimate embrace. this was your neighbor, the one who always held the door for you and accepted your extra baked goods with quiet disagreement. the one who covered sharp edges of corners before you bumped into them, watched your door to make sure you got in okay after late nights out with friends. he breathed in your scent quietly, telling himself this was not a mission, this was you. he ran his thumbs under your jawline and down your neck, feeling your pulse to remind him you were alive. you, this bundle of life he came back to, week after week, deployment after deployment, the one reason he stayed in this shitty building when he could easily afford something better. "yer stayin' with me tonight." you nodded easily, soft as butter in his arms.
you blinked and you were in his bed, strong arms wrapped around you. he gripped you hard, like he thought the intruder might try to steal you straight out of his arms. in the darkness of his room, you slipped off his mask, laying it on his bed table. you kissed his forehead, a mirror of the one he gave you earlier, and snuggled into the crook of his neck. "thank you." you whispered into the silence of the night. you felt him nod against you, arms constricting tighter, legs tangled in the safety of his bed.
simon didn't sleep much. too many memories, sounds of gunfire and the glint of the meat hook ever present. he was required to see a shrink on base, but even that didn't help. turns out this whole time, all he needed was you.
--
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i Beg you i mean BEG YOU to do more chubby person x jinx or vi or something BECAUSE IM LITERALLY FATTT and i love the hcs
DROP ANOTHER ONE AND MY LIFE IS YOURS đđœââïž
[Arcane preference] with a chubby s/o pt.2- cuddle time
The second request of the week. Honestly, as someone who isn't exactly slim, I write these headcanons for those who ask me but primarily for myself. Requests are open, as usual, I ask for your patience because English is not my first language. I'll leave you the link if you'd like to follow me on Bluesky (I'll be posting Arcane content there soon as well, i want to build a 'public' meanwhile).
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Jayce:
- Starting with the fact that this man is built like a wardrobe, and his clothes are already pretty roomy, heâs started buying even bigger shirts just to make sure you can borrow them, theyâll be oversized on you, and youâll be happy.
- So when youâre at home watching a movie or cuddling in bed, he strokes your belly with a smile, pretending to be surprised.
- âIs that my shirt?â
- This himbo, who handles a hammer that weighs as much as a horse, means no arguments when it comes to cuddles: youâre sitting in his lap.
- And when things get a bit heated, heâll hoist you up with your knees on his shoulders, pressing you against the wall just to flex his strength and remind you that itâs absolutely no problem for him.
- After the dirty deeds, expect him to bring you something to eat (and especially drink) in bed, and donât expect to be able to say no.Â
Viktor:
- When youâre relaxing on the couch, it takes a moment to find a position thatâs comfortable for both of you: usually, he sits upright with one leg stretched out, the other (his weaker one) draped over yours, and you either facing him or lying on your side with your head on his shoulder.
- The focus here isnât on clothes, but blankets. Theyâre all queen-size, so the two of you can wrap yourselves up as comfortably as possible during cuddles without anyone getting cold.
- And when you stand up with one draped around you like a cape, he canât help but chuckle and call you âYour Majesty.â
- As for clothes, youâd never think heâs clued in to your needs, but then you see the socks he buys for you both: to avoid any circulation issues, he only buys soft cotton and wool socks without elastic, so even at home, you always have cozy socks that match the season, like festive holiday ones.
- His secret move? Sliding his hands between your thighs when theyâre cold, and playing with the little rolls there, pinching them when youâre cuddling.
- In your most intimate moments, he stops to kiss and nip at your thighs, leaving little constellations of marks that he traces over with his fingertips in the days that follow.
Ekko:
- Cuddle time is sacred.
- If he walks into the room and sees you sprawled comfortably on the bed waiting for him, a bomb alert goes off in his head: he shuts the door and runs to gather everything he might need.
- Water, snacks, extra blankets, anything he can think of.
- When he gets back and shuts the door behind him, he has a ridiculous grin on his face, warning you that heâs about to pounce with a playful growl, as if to show you just how much he wants to nibble you.
- Ekko is a huge fan of having your knees on his shoulders while you lie down, rubbing his cheek against your calf, and kissing it while youâre busy squirming.
- His favorite hobby? Getting his head caught between your thighs and becoming âdeaf.â
- Heâs always the big spoon because he has to protect you, hug you, and nestle his arms and hands into every soft spot.
- After any wild night, expect breakfast in bed and a hot bath waiting for you.
Vander:
- Zaun has a dreadful climate because the smog creates a thick layer of heat, but being underground and surrounded by cold materials, temperatures can drop sharply. So sometimes he shows up with a blanket, hands you a corner, and asks you to hold it for a moment.
- As soon as you take it, he calmly wraps it around you, picks you up, and carries you over to the fireplace, keeping you wrapped like a burrito on his lap while he enjoys his pipe for half an hour.
- Because of the cold, intimacy often happens right there in the living room, in front of the fire. Sometimes, heâll give you the armchair and kneel in front of you, or youâll both find yourselves on the rug.
- Heâs a good lover, but donât expect him to do much after expending all that energy at his age. On a good day, heâll be a gentleman and carry you to bed; then it will your turn to cuddle and soothe him with gentle strokes as he enjoys them with his eyes closed.
- If itâs not a good day, heâll pull the blanket over both of you and set the guard in front of the fire, resigning himself to the fact that youâll be sleeping cuddled up either on the chair, the sofa, or even on the rug.
- In exchange, the next day, heâll make it up to you with a long, hot bath and a massage.
Silco:
- This man has money, and he knows how to use it well.
- When the cold sets in Zaun, your bedroom becomes a place youâd never want to leave. Fur rugs are laid out on either side of the bed, soft, warm robes in matching colors appear in the closet, and if you want to stay in your den waiting for him while he works without freezing, you can even light the in-room fireplace.
- After he finishes his work, he washes up, dons his robe, and heads straight to bed, sometimes he doesn't even waiting, and begins going over his paperwork under the blankets while he absently strokes your shoulder or hair.
- If you complain enough, heâll carefully gather up the papers, set them aside, and hover over you to kiss your neck and collarbones, sliding your robe aside so his lean, wiry body can press against yours.
- Heâs incredibly gentle in everything he does, from how he touches to how he kisses or nibbles. Every movement makes you shiver, but he remains composed. Occasionally, between kisses, the cold tip of his nose brushes your skin, making you giggle; he then returns to your lips, asking for forgiveness before continuing his slow exploration.
- Heâs the type for wine and a cozy dinner under the covers, a break for cuddles, and then back to work.
- If you protest that youâre eating too much, heâll feed you himselfâno time for nonsense (but always with a touch of tenderness).
Jinx:
- The most chaotic thing Jinx does is cross out or draw over posters that show people who are too skinny. They canât make you insecure if you donât see them, and any excuse for vandalism is a good one.
- With the cold setting in, her hideout transforms into a true nest: a heap of clothes and fabrics covered in blankets and throws to make everything softer and warmer.
- Jinx has cold feet, but itâs not her problemâitâs yours. Sheâll press them against your stomach, your back, and if you react, itâll only get worse.
- Sheâll start laughing, and itâll become personal. The only way to fight back is with tickling, but that would be a declaration of war.
- When you both finally calm down, sheâll wrap herself around you, clinging with her whole body, inhaling your scent deeply, and digging her fingers into your side.
- Donât expect too much delicacy in intimate moments; if she needs you to move, sheâll grab and pull you into whatever position is most comfortable for her. She holds your legs up, and handles you like youâre her personal doll.
- For her, this is princess treatment; and the effort sheâs putting in is what counts.
Vi:
- She buries her face in your chest, first and foremost. Feeling sad? Face in your chest. Happy? Face in your chest. Deep in thought? You guessed itâface in your chest.
- Her go-to stress reliever is squeezing your thighs and hips.
- During cuddles, she rests your head on her shoulder, strokes your back, kisses your forehead, and speaks softly.
- She always plays with your hair, and if itâs long enough, youâll find small braids everywhere.
- When youâre cuddling in bed, sheâll either hold you close or be the little spoon herself, with one hand in yours and fingers intertwined.
- When things get more intimate, she becomes completely dependent on you, pressing her fingers so deeply into your skin that they leave marks, as if even that isnât enough and she wants to be inside you, to reach into your very core.
- She never imposes anything; if you donât feel like washing up, sheâll clean you up with a warm cloth, and if you donât feel like getting up, sheâll carry you. Whatever you want, sheâll go along with it unconditionally.
- Occasionally, sheâll climb over you, propping herself on her arms, just to steal a flurry of kisses.
Caitlyn:
- Caitlyn can cook, and she will.
- Her way of cuddling starts at the table, with an evening set up like a royal banquet. Anything you like will be there, along with sweet and savory snacks, which, if there are leftovers, sheâll take to the coffee table or the bedroom so you can enjoy them later.
- Thereâs no rush; if you want to go for a walk or relax after eating, itâs fine by herâshe just wants to be with you. She might ask a housekeeper for a bit of help, or sheâll clean up on her own while you get ready.
- If you lie down in bed, sheâll absolutely take the chance to gently knead your stomach like a cat, making you laugh but also helping you fall asleep rather quickly.
- Sheâs the ultimate big spoon, nestling her face into the crook of your neck and holding you tightly.
- When things get more intimate, she loves to look you in the eyes while she touches you, so she can savor every reaction, every shiver, watching your body melt with every move she makes.
- She becomes mesmerized by the way your body ripples under her touch, like thereâs an ocean beneath your skin.
Mel:
- The real issue with Mel is that the rich never have anything better to do, so morning, noon, and night, theyâre constantly organizing events. Breakfast at a nobleâs home, brunch with the councilors, and of course, everyone must dine together. Tea at five with the Kirammans is absolutely sacred, and dinner is a moment for sharing ideas.
- Intimacy is this strange, almost absurd thing, as though everything is designed to give you no second of solitude.
- But when she does find a moment, she sits down and signals you to come into her lap or rest against her, cuddling you, playing with your earlobes, and winding her fingers through your hair until your eyes cross.
- She prefers giving affection to receiving it, simply because it feels like the only way she truly knows how to show love.
- Only in the deepest intimacy does she allow herself to do less, to enjoy your presence lying with her, to let go of control.
- She adores the way your body moves artistically, like it follows lines painted in oil, and these are the few moments where she can fully admire you.
- Sheâs quite strict afterward. You must drink those two glasses of water, and as you get up, sheâll call for someone to change the sheets and make the bed, so by the time youâre done showering, everything is ready and perfect.
Sevika:
- Bluntly put? She works with the chem barons, who are mostly old, misogynistic men with monocles embedded in their skulls, grotesquely altered rats with spider-like mechanical limbs, a very interesting gang of women in latex with disturbing port attachments, people with mechanical noses that pump in toxic stuff directly, and other highly modified, not-so-pleasant characters.
- I mean, sure, you have every right to feel insecure, but when she tells you youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to her, sheâs being quite literal.
- Her delight in the fact that not only are you entirely flesh and blood but actually soft flesh is beyond wordsâshe feels like sheâs hit the jackpot with a premium relationship.
- Thereâs hardly a moment when sheâs not touching you, holding your arms or cheeks in her hands, or kissing your skin.
- During cuddles, she prefers you on top of her, and if sheâs calm and has enough time, sheâll even remove her arm.
- Itâs a controversial choice, but she doesnât want to be around you while wearing a weapon, and she doesnât want you to see her the way she sees the chem barons. Itâs almost a moral decision on her part.
- In bed, she can hold you easily with just one arm; sheâs strong, itâs not an issue for her. But first and foremost, she wants to lie down with you, feel your soft arms, your chest, your waist where she can let herself sink in, and when you laugh because sheâs tickling you, she kisses you.
- For her, the hardest part isnât functioning with one less limb but letting herself appear calm, not on the defensive, even vulnerable.
- But she doesnât regret it for a single second.
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#mel arcane#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#arcane silco
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Snitches the cat and his favorite bat
I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.
EDIT
The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!
Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.
Word count is 1053.
Tumblr reference
masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics
âUgh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?â
âIt's so messed up looking. Ew.â
Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.
Wait, what?
âYou fucked this up.â
His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?
He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.
âOh, you motherfuckers,â he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.
The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. âAnnoyingâŠâ
He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.
âCount yourself lucky, dimwits,â one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. âIf you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.â He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.
Uh- what now?
Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!
âThis is some incompetent summoning,â Danny realized, way too late. âDid they- how did they turn me into a cat?â He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.
He remembered the word âsacrificeâ and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!
The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.
âShut up!â One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!
âThe neighbors are going to- make it shut up!â
Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!
The window burst in.
Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-
Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.
Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-
He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.
âUnhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.â
Danny loved him.
The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.
Fight club baby was enraged. âWhat have you done to this animal?â He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.
Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.
âI will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-â
âRobin.â A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.
The older man radiated incredible judgment. âI see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.â
âThat's my Mom's cat!â One of the teenagers protested. âYou can't take her!â
Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.
âThen we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.â Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.
âNot that fugly thing.â
Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.
âThat thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-â
âBatman can steal any cat!â Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.
That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.
âBatman can steal any cat,â he wheezed. âBrilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?â He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.
He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.
Danny⊠was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?
âNo,â Robin said curtly. âYou have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.â
The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. âThat's Patches, and this isâŠ?â
Robin hesitated. âHe is the Snitch.â
That unlocked cooing. âSnitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!â
Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!
Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. âSnitch⊠I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.â
â....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!â The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.
Robin and Danny both growled that time.
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COME REST YOUR BONES NEXT TO ME ; SATORU GOJO, SUGURU GETO
synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most.Â
word count; 4.6k
contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoruâs pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues
a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33
âholy shit!â
the raspy tilt of satoruâs voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguruâs lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace â smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.
âsatoru, itâs too early for this...â
âitâs snowing!â said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. heâs standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes.Â
your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.
(snowing.)
with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguruâs grasp â a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine â allowing you to scramble out of bed. âreally?â you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.
satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen â brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks.Â
maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the windowâs glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguruâs long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth.Â
itâs beautiful.Â
satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory â blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded.Â
all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere.Â
the first snow of the year.
and heâs loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers â a reminder of his capacity for ache.
there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.
like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.
and before either of you know it, satoruâs pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again.Â
(probably by satoru himself, though heâll always insist it was suguruâs doing. overcome by his jealousy, surely, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does â he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3â0 cat plushie of yours.
and, sure, maybe once or twice heâs been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumonâs subsequent fall to the floor â but heâll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if heâs really lucky.)
high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands donât fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.
and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling.Â
a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering â but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.
he feels you let go of him, but doesnât mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguruâs poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.
â until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.
satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.
(youâre cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)
âoh, so thatâs how you wanna play?â he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. âfine by me.âÂ
he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair â and you waste no time in making your own.
itâs a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoruâs arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.
so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasnât even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal â falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.
satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. youâre out of breath, and your hands are red, and heâs fairly certain youâre gonna catch a cold. suguruâs going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown youâre wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.
âready to admit defeat, sweetheart?â he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.
ânever.â
a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.
a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. âfine, fineâŠâ a soft pout forms on your lips. âyou win.â
and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. thereâs a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. âthatâs all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,â he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.
his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ânow, for my prizeâŠâ
his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste â a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoruâs smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.
he lingers, for a bit. like heâs trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face.Â
when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. theyâre not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.
you canât help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips.Â
hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.
satoru loves winter. always has. but now, heâs certain he loves it even more.
because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people whoâll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs.Â
what more could a man want?
âhey, idiots!âÂ
the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguruâs got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. thereâs a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.
âiâm making breakfast,â he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. âcome in and warm up before you catch a cold.â
âis that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?â satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.
suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoruâs lips, as if they were always meant to be there.Â
(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)
with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husbandâs chest.
âlook, suguru. isnât it pretty?â you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors â brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.
then he exhales. a fond hum. âit is.â
satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. âsuguru, my hands are cold,â he whines. âwarm âem up for me?â
a click of his tongue. âshouldâve put some gloves on, satoru.â
a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. âmy hands are also cold.â
and, like clockwork, suguruâs eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. âaw, câmere, my loveâŠâ his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. âletâs get you warmed up, hm?â
satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. heâs acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows youâre just exaggerating suguruâs double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.
despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. âoh, i see how it is,â he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. âyou hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.â
âsatoru,â you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do â a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.
âweâre just joking around,â you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. âlove you sooo much. you know that.â
satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguruâs gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes â a meaningful look.
suguru sighs.
âyes, yes. we love you oh so much.â he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ânow behave and go change out of your pyjamas. theyâre soaked.â
his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but itâs suguru, so satoru accepts it â following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.
he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguruâs cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot.Â
when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. heâs not as slick as he thinks.
the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.
(yours and satoruâs are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguruâs is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things heâd like for himself.
and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)
suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate â topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.
when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.
thatâs when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.
âstill sleepy, baby?â he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.
satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping itâll come off as endearing. âmhm.âÂ
but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ânot you,â he tuts, patting your arm, âthis baby. i wasnât asking you.â
a pout. âwhy are you so mean to me?â he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. âsweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.â
you smile. indulgent, as always. âdon't be so mean to him, suguru. you know heâs sensitive.â
a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you â stifling a shared chuckle at suguruâs exasperation.
and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he canât deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguruâs spine. so he only inches closer, without a word.Â
his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.
and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear â an excuse to touch him. a silent apology.Â
(i'm sorry, you big baby.)
satoru grins.
you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husbandâs gaze.
âsatoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?â
he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp â followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. â⊠which sweeteners do you mean, honey?â
âdonât pull the âhoneyâ card.â
âand donât play dumb, either.â
a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. âsuguru, whoâs side are you even on?â
said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoruâs way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the worldâs biggest clown.Â
and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.
âdonât steal their sweeteners.â he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. âbuy your own.â
satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. âah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?â he clicks his tongue. âchivalry is dead.â
you bite back a little chuckle â satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do â and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. âremind me next time i go to the store and iâll consider it.â
âhmph.â
suguru is smiling. itâs small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguruâs back.
and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again.Â
that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago â watered by the sweet looks on your faces.
this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that heâs been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.
(married.)
sometimes he still canât believe it.Â
âitâll be done in a minute,â suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. âyou two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.âÂ
and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but itâs laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.
and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home youâve built for yourselves.
your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.
his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. itâs decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.
(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. heâs a simple man.)
and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguruâs hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year â but satoru couldnât be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heartâs content.
a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.
and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.
âcâmere, suguru! sit on santaâs lap.â
ââ youâre disgusting.â
the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoruâs lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you â sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.
and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.
you curl up in satoruâs lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.
then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. âthere we go,â he coos. âwhat does my angel want for christmas, hm?âÂ
âi want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,â comes your answer. instantaneous.
silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.
â⊠santa can only do so much, baby.â
two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.
âjust kidding!â he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. âdonât you worry. santaâll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.âÂ
you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. âand he wonât end up using them all himself?â
âof course not! blasphemy.âÂ
a moment passes.
â⊠maybe one or two. as a treat.â
a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste â pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.
then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesnât melt his heart down to the marrow.Â
he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguruâs lips.
and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.
he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a womanâs voice.Â
for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?
(look, satoru. isnât it pretty?)
â he canât recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.
it shouldâve been frightening, but it wasnât. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.
and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety â a ghost he doesnât need to chase anymore.
warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoruâs favorite thing about winter.Â
he looks at the two of you, hoping you wonât pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes youâll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguruâs face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself.Â
and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest.Â
he hopes it never goes away.
#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3#i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :â3 hes so Mother#i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him⊠he likes doting on u#but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it#and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child#im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but...#the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his momâŠ. maybe not realizing that he misses herâŠ..⊠i think its very sad. and good.#listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me#geto suguru x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo x reader#geto x reader#geto x reader x gojo#gojo fluff#geto fluff#satosugu x reader#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#âŠâŠâŠ thats⊠a lot of tags.
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