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boobearymuch · 2 months ago

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A Rising Sun

Summary: Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.” Tags: Sylus/Reader, gender-neutral, slight angst, hurt/comfort, reader is mc, established relationship Word Count: 1.8k A/N: requested by @hrts4hanniehae read on ao3 | masterlist

Crystal clinked loudly against a mahogany table as Sylus put the empty glass down with a seething glare. He would’ve slammed it were it not for your sleeping form just several feet away, however. Your chest rose and fell under his satin sheets, and he counted each breath like a rosary bead; you’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine. He unstopped a priceless bottle of whiskey and poured himself another drink, but the tremor in his hand sloshed amber liquid over the sides. Sylus huffed but didn’t bother wiping up the mess. Instead, he downed the whiskey in one go and squeezed his tired eyes shut. The burn was nothing compared to the chill down his spine when he found you.

Thirteen missed calls and twenty unread text messages. Not even Mephisto could track you. “You’re really starting to worry me here, kitten.” Sylus pressed the phone to his ear, eyes glued to Mephisto’s live feed as he soared through the N109 Zone’s darkest alleys, “If it was something I did, let me make it up to you.” The begging in his voice grew more obvious as the voicemails went on, “—Please. Just let me know you’re okay.” Sylus drew closer to the hologram, helpless, as Mephisto investigated another possible location, “I can’t…” Another dead end. The mechanical crow cooed softly before swooping into another street, and Sylus heard his voice catch in his throat, “...I can’t feel you anymore.”

Beep. The call ended, leaving a loaded silence in its wake.

He considered leaving yet another voicemail when Mephisto turned a sharp corner and pointed his eyes at a dark figure slumped against a wall. No, no, no. His worst fears were realized when the crow perched himself on your knee and cawed loudly, as if scolding you for causing so much trouble. Then his lens panned over the blood. So much blood. Sylus couldn’t recall the ride there, which car he took, how fast he was going. Trivial details, to be frank. Your name was the only thought in his mind, the only language he understood—you, you, you. Sense returned to him when he clutched your limp body in his tight embrace, and you groaned weakly in his arms. “I’m here,” Sylus sighed against your ear, “Always here.”

The sheets of his bed rustled as you shifted your weight, and Sylus shot you a look. “Sylus,” You called weakly, and winced as you sat up.

“Don’t lean on your arm.” Despite your discomfort, his narrowed gaze remained fixed on the empty glass in his hand. He made no move to approach you, “You’ll disturb the bandages.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watched you take note of the gauze wrapped around your bicep. The bleeding stopped a while ago. “That wanderer missed your artery by a hair,” Sylus drawled, and your confused gaze met his cold look, “Your luck never ceases to amaze me.” Then he stood, your confusion morphing into panic, “Let Mephisto know if you need anything.”

“Sylus, wait—” You outstretched your hand, the bandaged one, and immediately hissed in pain. Sylus froze, but like before, remained where he stood, “How long have I been out?”

His lip twitched. “Three hours now,” A beat, then he was reaching into his pocket, “Here.” Your phone bounced against the mattress at your feet, and Sylus watched you pick up the shattered screen. Wincing, you turned it on, and he quietly studied your distress.

“I’m sorry,” You began softly, but Sylus forced his eyes to the floor. He couldn’t stand the guilt in your eyes, “I got so caught up I didn’t—”

His raised hand cut you short, “Don’t.” And he turned away sharply, “Just focus on resting.” The lump in his throat was difficult to swallow around, so he grabbed the leftover whiskey and rushed out.

Cooling down with some vinyl records had been his first instinct. Dusting them off, running his fingers over the plastic covers, then finally settling on just one. Fretting over their display was a nervous habit of his, his go-to when he needed a distraction. But it proved too difficult to position the needle correctly with trembling hands, and Sylus watched the needle stutter over the grooves with a grimace. Instrumentals kicked in over the stereo quietly, but it still wasn’t enough to drown out his swirling thoughts. He should be with you right now. Tending to your every need and shushing you gently to get some rest. Instead, he hid away with his records, inhaling and exhaling to relax the tight ball in his chest. You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine.

He repeated this useless prayer to himself to prevent other thoughts—darker thoughts—from bubbling up. It didn’t work, though. “Sylus?” His eyes widened at the sound of your voice, before they suddenly narrowed in suspicion. As if on cue, Mephisto breezed to his perch in the corner of the room, and Sylus shot the crow a withering glare. So much for keeping you away from him, damn bird. Mephisto only pricked his feathers innocently in response. Your bare feet then padded across the room, but Sylus refused to turn around. You shouldn’t have to see him like this. “Sylus, would you please look at me?” You insisted again, stronger this time, “Are you angry?”

Usually, he craved your bluntness. Right now, he resented it. “I should have locked him in his cage.” Your steps drew closer, and Sylus concentrated on the spinning vinyl.

Your tired sigh gripped his heart. “I heard your voicemails,” You announced quietly, “It’s…It’s okay if you are. You have every right to be.”

It’s just so like you to put his feelings first. As if he had been the one bleeding in an alley for hours. Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose, “And if I was?” He turned to face you, finally, and noted the half-step you took back. Sylus couldn’t help the scowl that tugged at his lips, “Why aren’t you?”

You frowned at him and rubbed your arm distractedly. “I…feel bad for making you worry. I’m sorry, and I totally understand where you’re coming from.” You then tugged nervously at your clothes, avoiding his sharp gaze, “I would be angry with me too, believe me. Especially after I said I’d be more—”

Sylus couldn’t help it, a humorless laugh erupted from his bitten lips. You only stared in bewilderment as he raised a hand to cover his mouth, “Angry at you…?” He shook his head as another wave of trepidation passed through him, “You misunderstand,” Then his voice fell ominously low, “I’m not angry at you.”

Surprise gripped your expression, “I don’t understand, then. Why are you angry?”

“Why?” It was Sylus’ turn to give you a bewildered look, “Why?” The answer was so obvious, he almost felt ridiculous spelling it out for you. Through gritted teeth, he tried anyway, “Because I failed to protect you, that’s why.” That lump in his throat returned, so he promptly shut up. His words clung to the air for several moments, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off you now. A flurry of emotions overwhelmed you; perhaps you were realizing that, yes, he did fail you tonight. That realization never quite reached your eyes, though. Instead, you slowly shook your head before falling back to get comfortable on his couch.

“Come sit with me.” You patted the area next to you and watched him expectantly. Sylus stared. You always did find new ways to surprise him, somehow. He fought three wars in his head—before losing them all—and hesitantly took his place by your side. The big, bad Onychinus leader avoided your soft gaze. “What happened tonight, neither of us is to blame.” Your voice fell hush, and he didn’t need to look at you to know you saw right through him, “You can be angry, but please don’t hold a grudge.” You scooted yourself closer to take his hand in yours, and his eyes numbly flicked to your linked fingers.

“If Mephisto hadn’t found you…I didn’t know what to think.” His voice trailed off, and he swallowed thickly, “Your aether core. I couldn’t feel it.” His thumb caressed yours gently, “Fear like that isn’t easy to forget.”

Guilt brimmed in your eyes again, and he wished he hadn’t said anything. “You found me,” You began fiercely, “And I’m okay now, thanks to you. Because of you. You could never fail me.” Your words only deepened his scowl. It should never have gotten to that point in the first place. You should never have been in that position—alone. Your interlocked hands tightened, “Sylus…” Your murmur, spoken like a wish, was accompanied by a sudden warmth between your palms. He inhaled sharply as he watched your hands glow, evols linking as you resonated with his. The feeling was difficult to explain. Resonating with you blanketed him in a warmth like no other, like he was morning dew glowing under the rising sun. Like it was the first and last time he’d ever feel sunlight. You were alive. You were well. And if you harbored any ill will toward him, then resonating wouldn’t have come so naturally to you. He’s glad it did.

The resonance ended all too soon, however, and the light of your evols dimmed to nothing. Sylus’ record played softly in the silence. “Thank you,” He murmured at last, feeling calm for the first time that evening, “...And I’m sorry.” You made it difficult to stay upset. You had no idea how much power you held over him—over his mind and body alike—how easily you could mold him like putty in your precious hands. Right now, though, you guided those precious hands to his chin and looked him over properly. The dark circles, the disheveled hair, the cracked lips; you drank all of it in and let worry settle in the crease of your brow. He hid his embarrassment behind wisecracks, “Like what you see? A picture might last longer.”

You shot him a look, “You should take a shower, you’ll feel better.” Your expression then softened, and your thumb caressed the side of his smirking mouth, “But hurry, so you can join me in bed.”

He swore he felt traces of your evol smoldering within him, “Easy, kitten, you’re still recovering.”

Amusement sparkled in his ruby eyes when you abruptly pulled away, flustered, “You know what I meant!” Tsk, it was too easy sometimes. Sylus tried and failed to hide his smile before unexpectedly lifting you off the couch, “Sylus—”

“I’ve got you—yes, I do, now stop squirming,” Hanging on with your good arm, Sylus held you tighter than he’d ever done before. Letting you down would never be an option again. “Save the struggling for later, sweetie.” You merely huffed and settled into his secure embrace, but your free hand clutched his shirt just as tightly. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Morning dew, meet rising sun.

#sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #lads sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus qin #sylus l&ds #sylus lads #sylus lnd

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kateschi · 3 months ago

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midnight check-in

synopsis: in the middle of the night, you are woken up by a call from your husband.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the phone buzzes on the nightstand, dragging you from the edge of sleep. squinting at the glowing screen, you see katsuki’s name flashing across it.

it’s late—past the time he should have been home, but not unusual given the unpredictability of hero work. swiping the call open, you press the phone to your ear, voice still heavy with sleep.

“did I wake you?”

his voice is rough, but familiar, crackling through the line like static.

there’s no apology in his tone, but you can hear the subtle hint of concern buried underneath, like he’s weighing whether he should’ve waited until morning to call.

“no,” you lie, sitting up and adjusting to the quiet darkness of the room. “it’s fine. what’s up? are you coming home soon?”

there’s a brief pause on the other end. you hear the faint shuffle of his gear, like he’s shifting in his seat, maybe still in the office or the agency car. “yeah, I’ll be home in a bit. just… wanted to check in.”

check in? katsuki doesn’t just check in. the man’s explosive, stubborn, and blunt to a fault—never the type to dance around what’s on his mind. so, when he calls you this late just to ‘check in,’ something feels off.

“everything okay?” you ask softly, leaning back against the headboard. your fingers toy with the edge of the blanket, tracing small patterns over the fabric.

“yeah, just a long-ass day,” he grumbles, his voice a little lower now. he’s tired, you can tell, but there’s something else lurking in the background of his words.

“didn’t mean to be out so late. I know I said I’d be back before—”

“katsuki,” you cut him off gently. “you don’t have to apologize for doing your job. I know how it is.”

he lets out a frustrated huff, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, the way he does when he’s feeling restless.

“still,” he mutters. “I said I’d be there, and I’m not. doesn’t sit right with me.”

your heart softens at that. even though his words are gruff, katsuki has always had a way of showing he cares—usually in his own roundabout, katsuki-style way.

“you’re here now,” you say, your voice a little warmer. “that’s what matters. I’m just glad you called.”

another pause, this one heavier. there’s a slight crackle from his end, like he’s shifting again, probably leaning back in whatever chair he’s stuck in, the tension still clinging to him.

“yeah, well… I didn’t wanna wake up and find out you’re pissed I didn’t get home.” there’s a touch of humor in his voice, and you can practically hear the smirk on his lips. “figured I’d save myself the trouble.”

you chuckle softly, shaking your head. “you’re not getting out of trouble that easily, katsuki.”

“darn,” he clicks his tongue, but the familiar grumble in his tone makes you smile. it’s his way of saying he missed you, without actually saying it.

for a moment, there’s just comfortable silence between you.

the sound of his steady breathing on the other end of the line makes your chest ache a little—wanting him here, not just on the other side of a phone.

“you almost home?” you ask quietly, the warmth of the blankets doing little to fill the empty space beside you.

“yeah.” his voice softens, dropping just enough that you can tell he’s not as guarded anymore. “should be there in about ten.”

“good,” you murmur, stifling a yawn as you sink further into the bed, imagining him walking through the door any minute now. “I’ll wait for you.”

there’s a beat, a moment where his breathing catches ever so slightly, before he grumbles again, but softer this time. “you don’t have to stay up for me, y/n.”

“I want to.”

the silence that follows feels different—warmer, like he’s smiling, even if you can’t see it. and maybe it’s the exhaustion in your voice, or the way you said it so matter-of-factly, but something in him shifts.

you hear him let out a quiet breath, the kind he only ever lets out when he’s alone with you.

“...you’re such a damn idiot,” he mutters, but there’s no bite to it. just warmth.

you smile into the phone, eyes already half-closed. “takes one to know one.”

he snorts at that, a rare sound of amusement that you love catching him off-guard with. “whatever. just keep your ass in bed. I’ll be there soon.”

“mhm,” you hum, already feeling the drowsiness tugging at you again, but there’s something in the comfort of his voice that keeps you tethered.

you shift slightly, hugging the blanket closer, waiting for the familiar click of the front door. before you drift off entirely, you murmur, “love you, katsuki.”

there’s a pause, and for a moment, you think he’s hung up. but then, quietly, with all the weight of a promise, he replies.

“yeah. love you too.”

the call ends with a soft click, but even after, the warmth of his voice lingers in the quiet room. you smile to yourself, feeling the space beside you growing less empty by the minute.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

#bakugo x female reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugou x you #bnha x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki bakugou x female reader #mha x reader #bnha x y/n

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sleepymarimo · 5 months ago

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toji x reader // sfw!

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.

“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.

you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.

in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.

“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”

the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.

“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”

with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”

he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.

his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.

he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.

with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.

the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.

inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.

it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.

toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.

while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.

even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.

“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.

and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.

it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.

so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.

his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.

were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?

“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”

the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.

when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.

the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.

in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.

he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.

“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.

you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”

yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.

a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.

he curls into you. you don’t mind.

while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.

his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.

it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.

he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.

#jjk x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji fluff #more toji fluff ofc #my heart yearns for him #soft toji my beloved

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ponderingmoonlight · 6 months ago

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How kny men treat their pregnant wife

Pairings: Obanai x fem!reader; Rengoku x fem!reader; Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: I went absolutely insane in Sanemi's part lmao, let me know what you think about maybe even more kny complilations in the future?🤍🫶

Obanai – super overprotective

„Darling, you really don’t have to be cautious all the time. I’m fine and it’s mid-day.”

“You never know”, the man next to you mumbles while positioning himself in front of you.

Since the day Obanai found out that you’re expecting your very first child, he never left your side. Not even at night, when he’s usually out fulfilling his duty as a hashira. And if he must go, he always makes sure that you’re not alone.

“I really don’t want to bother you, but Iguro-san sent me here to keep an eye open for you”, Mitsuri explained with reddened cheeks after appearing in front of your door at sunset.

You sign to yourself with a small smile crawling up your face. You never really realized that your husband is so eager to have a child. When the two of you first met, he acted so cold towards you that you were convinced he hated you after saving your life in your village back then. It wasn’t until he showed up at the butterfly estate on a random day and handed you a bouquet of flowers that you realized how hard you fell for that man yourself. Despite his cool and composed walls, despite always staying in the background and leaving disgracing comments from time to time. You really learned how to love the serpent hashira for the man he is: kind, loving, protective and smart.

“Why are you not coming over to cuddle me instead?”, you suggest oh so sweetly while opening your arms as an invitation.

Obanai side-eyes you up and down, his mind visibly racing behind those gorgeous eyes.

“But what if I hurt you and the baby?”, he mutters, still standing his ground.

“I’m not made of paper and the baby isn’t as well. And also, I’m carving nothing more than a hug from my husband at the moment.”

Slowly but surely, he finally turns around. As if you’re made of porcelain, he wraps his arms around you oh so gently. Have you ever seen your husband this cautious and sensitive around other human beings? You’ve seen the way he beats up the other corps members in his training sessions on a daily basis. A giggle escapes your lips before you’re able to stop it. Your man really turned soft due to this pregnancy.

“What’s so funny?”, he grumbles, his vibrant eyes set on you.

“You’re too hesitant to give me a real hug and yet, you’re beating up innocent kids during training. Come on now, I said I want a real hug!”

Before he’s able to protest, you press yourself against him with full force, allow your head to rest against his beating heart. It’s been ages since he last cuddled you the way you always loved it. With your body resting on top of his and your arms wrapped around his broad chest, everything starts to feel like home.

“Don’t you think that’s too dangerous? The baby-“

“The baby will be fine. I can handle a tight hug, darling. I really missed this…”

He shifts his weight underneath you and gently starts rubbing your back. Oh, how much you adore your husband and those sweet little moments between both of you. You never imagined to love someone like this, to fall head over heels for a man who is the complete opposite of yourself. But here you are, falling even harder day by day.

“And…you really think this is safe?”

“I’m absolutely sure it is!”

Obanai pauses for a moment, his eyes almost piercing through you.

“I think you should go and see Shinobu later”, he finally presses out.

“Come on, I already told you-“

“This doesn’t feel safe at all. We’re leaving in just a few minutes”, he continues while wrapping his arms around you.

Rengoku – the proudest soon-to-be dad

“I made you breakfast, my love!”, your husband announces while entering your shared bedroom in his plain white kimono.

“You’re way too kind, Kyojuro. You know I could have done it myself”, you reply while lifting yourself off the futon.

“Oh, let me help you up!”

Gently, he grabs your shoulders and helps you to get up. With your swollen belly, things aren’t as easy as they used to be. By now, you aren’t even able to see your feet anymore.

But it’s all worth it. He’s all worth it.

“Look at you”, he mutters with unusual low voice.

When his hand starts caressing your belly along with that loving gleam in his eyes, you almost forget how to breathe. From the day both of you found out that you are expecting a child, Kyojuro fell head over heels.

“You look so breathtakingly good, my everything. I could stand here and stare at you all day, little flame.”

It almost seems as if Kyojuro’s already heavy feelings doubled during your pregnancy. Not a single hour goes by without him telling you how gorgeous you look, that you are an angel walking on earth.

Even though you know you gained a few pounds and how swollen your face looks. He doesn’t care about the fact that sometimes, you are too exhausted to wash your hair or that you didn’t dress in something nice since your clothes started to get too tight.

Your husband adores each and every fiber of your being.

“Stop, you’re making me blush”, you giggle while playfully freeing yourself out of his strong arms.

“I’ll never stop telling my pregnant wife how gorgeous she looks! How are you feeling, my love?”

You find yourself trapped in his arms with his eyes all over you again. God, will you ever get tired of looking at him, of seeing those vibrant eyes?

“I’m okay. I just feel a little heavy.”

“I’m so proud of you for enduring all of this. Shinobu already told me this pregnancy doesn’t go easy on your body. You’re a real fighter, (y/n)!”

“A fighter? My body is supposed to do this. There’s nothing special about that”, you try to brush his praise off, cheeks already turning dark red.

“Don’t think about it that way. Your body might be equipped for a pregnancy, but Shinobu informed me about all the things you have to endure and how painful and tiring it can be-“

“Did Shinobu really explain all those things to you?”, you mutter through your hands that cover your face in sheer embarrassment.

“Of course! After all, I’m your husband and it’s my duty to support you in the best way possible!”, his beaming voice replies proudly.

“And I can’t wait to meet our little wonder.”

The second he gets on his knees, you see stars. Oh so gently, he pulls your kimono to the side and starts caressing and kissing your womb. Your knees threaten to fail you, feelings all over the place. God, you really don’t deserve a loving and caring husband like him, you don’t deserve all those feelings he holds for you and your unborn baby so openly.

Before you’re able to stop yourself, a violent sob escapes your lips.

“No love, why are you crying?”

Kyojuro meets you eye to eye in an instant, his hand carrying away every little tear that threatens to stain your face.

“It’s just…You are too kind…I don’t deserve your praise…”, you croak out.

“You deserve this and so much more. Now come on, I made you mochis with the receipt Kanroji taught me…”

You sniffle uncontrollably in his arms.

Wait, did he just say…

“You mean my favorite mochis?”, you mutter.

“Of course, little flame!”

“Oh…Then…Maybe we should get going, then…”

Sanemi – doesn’t even know yet

Fuck fuck fuck.

You stare at Shinobu in sheer horror. This can’t be true. Definitely a mistake. A cruel joke, maybe.

You…pregnant?

“Tell me you’re joking”, you mutter under your breath.

Just when you thought things between Sanemi and you started to get better, than you finally managed to live besides. Calling yourself his wife was never easy, especially due to the fact that he only married you because your family literally sold you to him in exchange for not killing you right on the spot. The two of you never seemed to get along that well.

You swallow hard. That night was an exception. You came home drunk, you didn’t know what you were doing when you seduced him, when you began babbling about something as stupid as feelings.

You swore to yourself that you’ll never fall for your husband. And now you’re expecting his child.

“I’d never joke about something like that, (y/n). It seems like somehow, you managed to get pregnant”, Shinobu replies in all seriousness while taking off her gloves.

Fuck.

“He’ll fucking kill me”, you mumble to yourself.

“Maybe he’ll skin me before that, slice open my belly like a fish-“

“Can you just stop?”, Shinobu interrupts you in all urgency.

“Shinazugawa might not be the most empathic man walking on this earth, but he also didn’t marry you for nothing. I’m sure everything will be fi-“

“Absolutely nothing’s fine. I’m fucking screwed”, you huff in frustration while yanking up.

You’re completely fucked. There’s no way in hell Sanemi will ever find out about this, not in this lifetime. You have to make sure that this stays a secret.

“Don’t you dare to tell him a single word about this, got it?”, you literally threaten Shinobu with your shaky finger pointing at her.

You, expecting a baby.

From Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Without even waiting for her reply, you storm out. Are you able to get rid of this situation? Mindlessly, you rub your belly when a new wave of memories from that fateful night hits you.

“I might l-love you”, you blurted into the room, Sanemi’s widened eyes staring at you in sheer horror.

“You…love me? Just yesterday, you told me how much you hate me”, he clarified with harsh voice.

“Are you drunk, (y/n)?”

“I…might be, yeah. But I mean it.”

Against all voices that begged you to stop, you darted towards him.

Until you sat on top of him and wrapped your longing arms around his neck.

“I love u, Sanemi.”

“I can’t believe a single word you say, shithead.”

“Watch me, then.”

It happened so fast you still can’t believe it. One passionate kiss, your hands wandering underneath his uniform, his muscular frame on top of you.

“You really want this?”, he huffed against your cheek, usual so maniac orbs filled with nothing but pure lust.

“Yeah”, you breathed out.

Urgh. You dig your nails into your hair, head spinning instantly. What kind of fuckery is this? Your first night ever and now…you’re pregnant? As if things between you and him aren’t already cringe enough.

“Why are you looking like shit?”

His oh so familiar voice makes your guts turn. For the split of a second, you are literally one movement away from puking all over his feet.

“Why are you talking shit?”, you spit at him, shoulder bumping against his as you try to get away from here as soon as possible.

But Sanemi grabs your wrist before you’re even able to think about your escape.

“Why were you at Shinobu’s? You never visit her.”

“I’m not feeling well”, you jeer at him.

“You even refused talking to her when your bone splatted out of your damn leg. Don’t fuck with me, (y/n). You didn’t come here for nothing.”

“Yeah, I really shouldn’t have done that”, you snap, violently ripping away your wrist.

This is way too much. Your family, Sanemi, that damned pregnancy. You thought this hell trip was over when Sanemi somehow managed to accept you, you really thought you could leave a rather peaceful life.

God, what a fucking fool you are.

“Hey, what the hell is going on? (y/n)!”

Just before your knees hit the ground, you feel Sanemi’s strong arms lifting you back up.

“What the hell has gotten into you!?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you scream on top of your lungs.

“All of this because of that damned night, because I lost my fucking control. I’m pregnant…”

Sanemi’s arms around you tense up immediately. Fuck, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him.

Truth is, you love that man. Fuck, you fell for him harder than you ever imagined, so badly that you can’t stop thinking about him. And that night, you allowed yourself to get a taste of him. After all, maybe this was all you need to finally forget about him, right?

What a fool you are.

“You’re…what?”

Violently you rub away the tear that starts rolling down your cheek.

“You’re…pregnant…”

“Saying it again and again won’t make it disappear”, you bark at him.

“I’ll be a dad?”

Huh? What is that unusual tone in his voice. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa really sound…joyful?

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

In the split of a second, you find yourself devoured in his arms and captivated by his glossy eyes. Your heart skips a beat, mind not able to follow the scene that lays itself out in front of your eyes. He doesn’t look angry at all, not even sad. No, he looks as happy as you’ve never seen him before.

“I can’t believe it. I never imagined this to happen”, he whispers while grabbing your face.

“Gosh, let me kiss you.”

“You want to kiss me?”, you shriek.

Despite your growing feelings for the wind hashira and those countless secret looks you’ve shared with each other, it was always a quiet agreement between both of you to never express any feelings. No hugs, no kisses, no questions. Just living side by side. Fuck, you never even allowed yourself to even gaze at his lips before that fateful night.

And now you’re lying in his arms, pregnant while he asks for a kiss.

“I mean…yeah”, you finally breathe out.

And then his lips crush against yours. Longingly, passionately, filled with so many emotions that you fail to breathe. All this time, you tried so desperately to hate that man, to hide your feelings from him in order to protect yourself. But all it took was a single night and that unexpected pregnancy to make you realize that maybe, allowing yourself to discover your own feelings isn’t that bad, after all.

Maybe, everything will in fact turn out alright.

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

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deadsetobsessions · 10 months ago

Text

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.3

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

“Aquaman.” Batman swept into the room, beelining straight for the suddenly apprehensive Atlantean king.

“Batman. What can I do for you?”

“Phantom. Does he pay taxes?”

“Pardon?”

Batman makes a low noise that had Aquaman’s danger senses buzzing.

“Does Phantom have to pay taxes. Towards Atlantis.”

“No…? Why?”

“He wanted money, in exchange for… information, of a delicate sort,” Batman said, diplomatically avoiding the topic of Phantom bargaining for the identities of corpses in exchange for a measly $100 dollars per identity. Like a flea market dealer, that one was.

“You encountered Phantom again?” Aquaman perked up.

“Yes. Gotham’s bay is… polluted.” Batman paused. “With victims. Of murder.”

The entire area quieted as heads turned towards the Dark Knight.

“Yes, I am… distantly aware of Gotham’s waters.” By that, Aquaman gets green around the gills whenever he turns his awareness in that direction. There’s a reason he doesn’t enter Gotham, and the Dark Knight’s ban is only half of that reason. “Ah, but you’re correct. For what purpose would Phantom need mortal currency?”

“Hn.”

“Maybe he needs some stuff?” Flash zipped to a stop next to Batman, feet tapping as he dug into the pile of snacks cradled in his arms. “Us mortals are always coming up with new things, maybe he wants to try some games or something?”

Batman tilted his head down, seriously considering Flash’s suggestion. “It’s plausible.”

“Barry, Barry, Barry. He’s old as hell, right? He probably wants to try the new booze!”

“Hal, my man!” Flash fist bumped Green Lantern, who came up. “You’re back! What happened to John?”

“Dunno. He got called somewhere that way,” Green Lantern waved a vague hand towards the left. “Had to deal with a politician or something from that area.” He shrugged, swinging an arm over Barry’s shoulders to put him in a headlock and stealing a chip.

“Huh. Anyways, would our mortal alcohol even work on a demi-god or something?”

“We should ask!” Hal turned towards Batman. “You should ask if he wants to go for a drink, spooky!”

“He’s a child.”

“He’s been around for more than a millennia, Bats.”

“Informational gathering, right, Hal?” Flashgot out of the headlock, quickly munching on his snacks to stop Green Lantern from stealing them.

“Totally. Yup.”

“…Fine.”

“Wait, are we just gonna ignore that Gotham’s waters are full of bodies?”

“Yes.”

——

“What?” Danny asked, mind half on the bags he’s dragging out of the water and the other half on the essay he has to submit in about four hours.

“Green Lantern wanted to invite you out for a drink.”

Danny turned to the stoic Gotham knight, who had his wrist computer out to log the bodies’ info the moment Danny gave him the information. Some of them even told Danny who murdered them, so Batman could start building cases with solid leads.

Danny’s only twenty. He’s not legal yet but he doesn’t want to give any clues to who he is. How is he supposed to…

Ah!

“Can’t.” Danny shrugged. “I’m not legal. I died when I was fourteen so…” Danny trailed off, speechless at the drowned puppy face Batman was giving him. What the fuck.

“Anyways, fork over my payment.”

Batman wordlessly hands him a wad of hundreds.

“What do you need cash for?” Batman suddenly asked.

“Huh? Isn’t it obvious?” Danny tucked it in. “Material things, obviously. I need a blanket,” because holy shit, Gotham is damn cold this time of year. “Anyways, see you same time next week, litterer.”

“I don’t litter.”

“Tell that to the batarangs I found under the water,” Danny grumbled. “But I’ll stop calling you that if you get a signature from Poison Ivy. I have a friend who loves her.”

“An alive friend?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?”

Danny snickered and disappeared. He’s gotta cram that essay.

——

“There’s a possibility Phantom might be homeless.”

“Batman, I mean this in the nicest way, but for the love of Atlantis, please stop giving me headaches. It’s time like these I wish I stayed a lighthouse keeper.”

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saetoru · 1 year ago

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what’s mine is yours

synopsis. suguru is a good best friend—he shares everything. just this once, he shares you too

word count. 2.1k (it's short i promise)

contents. fem! reader, reader is suguru's girlfriend, minors do not interact, virgin satoru <3, cuckolding, fingering, safe sex (who am i ?? jk suguru would not let satoru hit raw lol), petnames (princess, baby, and sweetheart), suguru teaching satoru how to fuck <3

notes. dash pls look away. i am horny at 1 am

satoru, for all his big talk and loud front all these years, is still a virgin. suguru finds it a tad bit funny—but out of the kindness of his heart, he decides to help his best friend change that.

how? you, of course.

“be careful how you handle her,” suguru says with a sly smile, “she’s still my girlfriend—and i have to take care of her. isn’t that right, baby?” his gaze turns to you, finger stroking your cheek gently as you whimper.

“so wet,” satoru mumbles, fingers sinking curiously into your dripping cunt, flexing slowly to pump in and out of you as you whine. his fingers are long, maybe longer than suguru’s—but not nearly as skilled.

“yeah?” suguru chuckles, “bet you like that, huh? careful though, satoru—don’t get used to this. she’s still mine.”

suguru, the ever gracious best friend, has always been one to share. he decides perhaps he can extend the favor to include his girlfriend too—but you’re precious, sweet and kind and oh so doting. he can’t share you permanently. no, it’s a one time thing—after that, satoru will have to find his own perfect little pussy to savor.

“you really get all of this? all to yourself?” satoru marvels, thumbing your clit as you gasp, your hand reaching over to clutch at suguru’s pants. his hand rests over yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he hums soothingly.

“yeah,” your boyfriend grins, “every day. whenever i want. right, baby?”

“uh huh,” you nod—and then you cut yourself off with a squeal when satoru’s fingertips brush against that sweet spot deep within your walls, making you flutter around him with a tight squeeze. he doesn’t find it as easily as suguru, doesn’t know how to angle and curl the tips of his fingers when he sinks into you.

and fuck, satoru thinks, suguru is so damn lucky.

“she’s a vocal one,” he chuckles, “you’ve been living the dream.”

“you should hear her when you use your mouth,” suguru chuckles—how embarrassing. you want to crawl onto his lap and hide away in his neck, hide away from satoru’s eyes that are watching you so carefully. satoru has good eyes—the best, even.

but you also like it. for some reason, when his eyes stare down at you with a darkened shade of blue you’ve never seen before, you feel the slick pooling from your core, smearing down your thighs and glossing over his fingers, wetter than ever.

satoru has that effect on people—even if he is a bit inexperienced.

“do i get to do that too?” he asks, sending your boyfriend a lopsided smirk.

suguru raises a brow, tightening his hand’s grip on yours before grunting a low, “don’t get ahead of yourself, satoru.”

“you said it yourself, suguru,” he chuckles, “what’s mine is yours.”

“not her,” suguru growls. and then, sweetly, he turns to you before pecking your forehead with a gentleness he keeps for only you. “you ready, princess?”

“princess,” satoru repeats thoughtfully, “yeah i guess you’re a bit of a princess, aren’t ya?”

“p-please,” you sniffle, tugging on suguru’s wrist, “need more, sugu.”

“yeah? he’s not doing his job, is he?” suguru pouts in sympathy, but his eyes are laced with amusement—like he’s enjoying the show in front of him. you’re sure he is, if the throbbing erection he sports is of any hint.

“hey,” satoru gasps, wounded, “i’m doing exactly what you told me—”

“here,” suguru throws him a condom, cutting him off, “put that on. you’re out of your mind if you think you’re feeling her. that’s only for me.”

“fine,” satoru huffs. you watch as he rolls the condom over his neglected cock—it’s red, swollen and aching, flushed at the tip and drooling with pre cum as he hisses when his hand wraps around it.

it’s pretty, you’ll give him that. satoru isn’t as thick as suguru, but he makes up for it by being a bit longer. he curves a bit with a thick vein running along the underside of his cock, balls heavy as they hang painfully, achingly full. he’s neatly trimmed—messy white strands of hair unlike suguru’s dark ones. you don’t know which one you prefer, if you could even pick one of you had to.

you watch with wide, fascinated eyes as his mouth parts with a low gasp when he accidentally teases the tip a bit as he clumsily works the rubber over himself. he’s sensitive at the head—just like suguru. gives those sweet little breathy whimpers when his slit is thumbed at. it’s cute, you think, maybe not as cute as suguru—but it’s still pretty adorable.

“go slow when you go in,” suguru warns, “if you hurt her, i’ll kill you.”

“she’s tough, she can take it,” satoru pats your cheek with a sly grin, “aren’t you, princess?”

“watch it, satoru,” you hear suguru growl, “don’t get too comfortable.”

“aw, it’s all in good fun, right? she’s taking it so well.”

you do take it well—you let satoru’s fingers play with your for ages, let him learn where to find that sensitive spot is in the back of your walls, let him rub your clit slowly—even if you ache for those fast circles suguru always gifts you with. and now, you’re even letting him slide into you, slowly but surely, inching his hardened cock into your impatiently wet cunt with agonizing patience.

“that feel good, baby?” suguru asks you once satoru’s buried to the hilt, splitting you almost in two as you breathe unevenly and nod. and satoru? well, he’s not faring any better—grit teeth and clenched jaw, panting harshly as he focuses on not cumming right then and there.

you’re tight—way tighter than his hand, and way warmer too. fuck suguru for making him wear the condom, and fuck suguru for landing such a perfect pussy too. he doesn’t know how he’s meant to go back to using his fist after a taste of this.

“you can move now—go slow at first, and then go faster when she’s close. she likes that. and don’t forget this,” suguru’s hand travels to your clit, giving a soft little pat that makes you whimper before he rubs it with those quick circles you love so much. “she likes when you touch this too. they all do—so when you get yourself your own girl to fuck, make sure you remember that.”

“i know what the clit is,” satoru grumbles, “i’ve watched porn, y’know.”

“i bet,” suguru chuckles, “is this your first time seeing a clit in person? pretty, isn’t it? everything about her is pretty.”

“suguru,” you whine in embarrassment, burying your head back into the pillow as much as you can, “you talk so much.”

“baby,” he insists, “someone has to humble him. he’s all bark and no bite.”

“i can too bite,” satoru grunts—and to prove it, he angles his hips to pull out, almost completely, before thrusting back into you. you cry out—clutching suguru’s hand tightly as your tits bounce. satoru let’s out a choked moan, gasping as you squeeze around his sensitive cock, eyes fluttering shut with pleasure.

it’s so good. suguru has it so good. you’re so good—perfect, even.

“f-fuck, more, need more,” you sob, and because suguru can’t help himself, his hand grabs at your tit, pinching and tugging at your nipple as he lets you squeeze his other hand in yours. “please, please—faster.”

“you heard her,” suguru hums, “she needs it faster.”

satoru’s good at fucking you—for his first time, he’s got your back arching and toes curling rather quickly. the blunt head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot with ease, long and curved enough to nudge against it with every roll of his hips. of course, no one knows how to fuck you until you see stars like suguru—but he comes to a close second.

your gasps have turned into long, wanton moans, and satoru moans in sync, head falling next to yours on the pillow as his breath fans over your shoulder with every harsh pant. his hips are rutting into you, slamming desperately as he feels you squeeze around him with every deep thrust. you can hear the squelching sound of your arousal as he bullies into your dripping cunt, smeared along the insides of your thighs. it’s messy, it’s rushed, it’s desperate and it feels so, so good.

satoru has never felt this good—and you? well….you have to admit you’ve never felt like this before either. it’s new, maybe not better, but certainly not worse.

“oh, fuck,” satoru groans, voice cracking as he whines against your shoulder, “f-fuck your so tight—‘s so good. so, so good….’m not g-gonna last much longer.”

“are you close, baby?” suguru strokes your cheek, watching as your eyes squeeze and your face twists in pleasure, “can’t have him be the only one cumming. that’s no good.”

“close! ‘m…’m so close, sugu. gonna cum,” you gasp as you nod.

if satoru wasn’t so lost on the feeling of your tight walls constricting around him, fluttering so perfectly that he almost feels like he can’t move, he might have protested that you addressed suguru and not him—he’s the one fucking you after all. it should be him you’re telling that you’re close, not your boyfriend. just because suguru is your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s the one who gets to bear the reward for making you cum.

right now, that’s satoru.

“aw c’mon, sweetheart, you’re gonna—o-oh, shit,” he cuts himself off with a breathy moan, “you’re gonna make me cry. say my name too, yeah?”

“satoru,” suguru warns lowly.

“see? jus’ like that. yeah, pretty? say it just how suguru did,” satoru, murmurs against your ear, biting your earlobe softly.

your hand, much to suguru’s dismay, tugs from his grasp so your arms can wrap around satoru’s neck and cling to his large figure as he towers over you, fucking you mercilessly. his pace is frenzied now—that steady ache building up in his throbbing length is about to burst, and that coil in your belly feels like it’ll snap any second too.

“s-satoru, please—‘m c-close, so close,” you mewl, “wanna cum.”

he grins, blue eyes raking over your body as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harshly over it in that way you’ve been craving.

“yeah? you close, pretty? ‘s good to hear. i am too,” he murmurs lowly, finishing the sentence off with a shaky gasp as you squeeze around him.

and then you fall over the edge—he sends you hurtling into your high before you can ever register it. it’s new, satoru thinks—it makes his hips stutter for a second when he feels you spasm around his cock like that, sucking him in and squeezing around him enough that he chokes on a whimper and cums right then and there too. he thinks it’s a miracle he held out just long enough to cum after you, thanking anyone who’s listened to his prayers of lasting. it’s almost impossible not to finish immediately with how your walls hug around his length.

by now, his hips have lost any rhythm they might’ve had before, sloppily rutting into you as he desperately rides out his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling into the condom that separates him from fully feeling your warmth. he’s sensitive—his cock is throbbing even as he lets go of that built up tension in the form of white, hot release. you milk him until he’s almost certain he’s got nothing left to give, dry and worn out from the way you pulse so harshly around him.

“so good—m-make me feel so good,” satoru breathes in wonder as he finishes, thumb slowing itself along your clit before his body slumps over yours.

it’s hot, it’s sweaty, it’s a mess of limbs as he rests over you, still quivering over your body from the aftershocks of his orgasm. it’s earth shattering—how you make him feel. has he really been missing out on this all this time?

“you’re heavy,” you grumble, patting at his shoulder. he chuckles into your neck, catching his breath.

“yeah? heavier than suguru?”

“i’m careful enough to collapse next to her,” suguru mutters from the side.

“fuck, that was amazing,” satoru rolls over, sprawling himself on the mattress next to you, chest heaving as he breathes, “i see why suguru spoils you so much. you keep him happy, huh?”

“oh yes,” suguru drawls, eyes narrowing. gently, he grabs your wrist and tugs at you, making you sit up as you eye the bulge in his pants and the large wet spot of pre cum staining the fabric. “you’ll see just how happy she makes me in a second here—she’s good with her mouth too.”

idk what possessed me to write this i rly don't. all i know is i want them both carnally

NO PART TWO — please STOP commenting that

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eddies-ashtray · 4 months ago

Text

white hot forever

Pairing: Logan “Wolverine” Howlett x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Most days exhaustion plagues him. But tonight, with his last dregs of energy, Logan cooks for you. Though he’s hungry for something far more enticing.

WC: 5.6k

Category: Smut (18+ ONLY, minors dni)

Content: Implied (non-specified) age gap, kissing, Logan throws reader over his shoulder/carries her, cunnilingus, unprotected pnv, reverse cowgirl, dirty talk, petnames (baby, old man, etc), beard burn, 1 single spank, some light nipple play, spitting, kinda dom logan/sub reader, light teasing/mocking, a dash of humiliation kink, lots of manhandling, an inordinate amount of animal metaphor/simile, mentions of logan’s exhaustion/aging due to the adamantium poisoning.

♡*♡*♡

His biceps strain against the thin cotton of his white button-down–the sleeves rolled up–as he finely chops a red pepper. His heavy hand lends to the particularly booming sound of the knife landing on the wood cutting board. But you don’t mind, content to observe from your ideal spot on the countertop of the island.

A half empty wine glass sits in your palm as your gaze lingers on the smattering of dark hair beneath the low-cut tank he wears under the button-down.

The kitchen smells of the sweetness of the cooking oil he used and the warmth of nostalgia. Faint memories from childhood of your mother bustling around the kitchen as she prepared dinner linger at the edges of your mind, brought on by familiar scents. When you breathe it in, you also catch lingering traces of Logan’s shampoo and, faintly, sweat.

“You ever…Ya know,” you pause, swirling the white liquid around. “Use the claws to chop an onion or something?”

Doing your best to suppress a smirk when Logan looks up at you from beneath his brows and pins you with a stern gaze, you hold his eyes.

You quirk a brow, waiting for his response as a snort threatens to bubble up.

A smirk cracks through his intense facade, crows feet deepening slightly. With an endearing shake of his head, he huffs a laugh through his nose. Logan’s a bit of a grump—even more so now that his hair has greyed and he’s let his beard grow somewhat unruly—but he’s not without a sense of humour.

“No,” his voice, though signed with a note of playfulness, is as gruff as always when he rests the knife on the cutting board. “But as you know, they’ve been useful for…other things.”

The word ‘other’ is loaded with intensity as the hand that previously gripped the knife handle lands deceptively gently on your right knee. It skates roughly up your thigh to thumb at the edge of your skirt.

You only hum in response. Despite the warmth of the kitchen, a chill runs up your spine and you shiver involuntarily. You’re not sure how he does that. Dial things up to 100 before you can even blink. It keeps you on your toes, even a few years in.

Now it’s his turn to quirk a brow–ever expressive–when his heavy gaze finally lifts from your legs.

Warmth begins to seep into your chest and stoke a small fire in your belly.

But the growing tension vanishes the moment a timer dings, shrill and intrusive.

Pulling himself away from your skin to tend to the sound, Logan bends at the knees to pull a steaming dish from the oven.

The crack of his joints is a quiet popping sound compared to the low grunt he releases when he stands back up to his full height to place the dish on the stovetop.

He tosses a worn out dish towel over his shoulder–the same one he’d used to pull the food from the oven.

Watching him carefully as he spins around in search of his whiskey glass, you remark, “You look handsome like this.”

You pass him the liquor, his large hand wrapping around the glass.

“Handsome like what?” he asks, a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

It’s not often Logan has the energy for this. Long days drain him now. Like sweet syrup from a tapped tree, a slow drip that takes and takes.

“Just–in the kitchen with me. Cooking…Taking care of me,” you say.

Another soft smile graces his lips and he presses a tender kiss to your cheek, a hand at your hip, and your face warms.

Gulping down a healthy sip of his drink, his throat bobs as he swallows the auburn liquid. When the glass clinks against the marble as he puts it down, you notice droplets linger in his beard. Once you’ve placed your own glass down you reach to thumb away the beaded liquid.

“Hm?” he hums, though it’s more of a growl when he does it, the sound rumbling up from deep in his broad chest.

“Just got some…” you trail off, expecting him to come to the natural conclusion himself when you lean in and cup his jaw. Feel the roughness of his beard against your palm as you swipe away the small droplet. “There.”

Logan leans briefly into your touch to kiss the soft skin of your palm in thanks. The gesture makes your heart ache.

You’re about to pull away, but Logan grasps your wrist in one strong hand, savouring your touch. He’s looking at you with an unexpected hunger behind his eyes as he feels the skin of your wrist beneath his rough palm. You can’t deny the way it revives the searing heat in the pit of your stomach.

“What?” The word comes out more breathy than you’d intended.

“Nothin’.” Logan shakes his head, holding your gaze. He releases your hand gently.

The word lingers in the air between you.

The way he says it–like it’s not really nothing–wires you right up again. You know he knows it too–his overly keen senses able to pick up the rhythm of your heart hammering against your ribcage.

You need to expel the energy or let the tension snap but can only think of the intoxicating scent of whiskey on his breath. “You know, I’ve never tried whiskey.”

He’s quick to respond. “No? You want to?”

“Okay.” It comes out in a whisper. The atmosphere feels too fragile for any other tone.

Logan grabs the crystal glass, just another sip or two remaining. He steals another as he steps in front of you, his left palm falling to your knee to push your legs apart so he has room to stand between them.

He lingers above you and you lick your lips in anticipation, catching the way hazel eyes darken beneath furrowed brows.

Then, Logan looks away and you watch as he places the glass down on the counter and his palms flat beside your thighs, effectively caging you in so you’re trapped in his space. Logan is all you can breathe, all you can see, all you can smell as your chest rises and falls with shallow breaths.

Eyes finally returning to yours, his head tilts to the side–cocky, challenging. “Then give your old man a kiss.”

A whimper nearly escapes you before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck and hungrily pressing your lips to his like it’s an order. It may as well have been, gruff as he is.

Logan grunts in response to your quick action, pulling your leg around his waist so your heel digs into the small of his back.

The roughness of his beard rubs your chin and cheeks, a pleasant sting against sensitive skin. Though you’re soon distracted when his hand leaves your calf in favour of greedily running up your thigh. They leave heat and tingling skin in their wake, and you gasp into the kiss when he gives the meat of your thigh a generous squeeze.

His desperation for you is matched only by yours for him as you wind your other leg around his hips to tug him closer. Grunting at your forcefulness, Logan finally slips his tongue into your warm mouth.

The whiskey on his tongue is overpowering as he kisses you like he’s starving for it–the meal he was making long forgotten. Warm hands brush up the length of your spine, eliciting a subtle shiver, before one of his large palms cradles your skull like you’ll shatter without the support.

His nose bumps yours as he deepens the kiss, licking into your mouth with fervour now. When his spare hand coasts over your chest to grab at your tits over your top, you arch into his touch with a moan like he demands it.

When you bite his bottom lip he growls, long and deep. A renewed sense of desperation claws at your skin as your kisses become increasingly wanton and sloppy. Tangling tongues generate sounds bordering on obscenity.

His claws may as well be dragging down your body, leaving bloody marks in their wake with the way his touch makes your skin sing. You hope he leaves bruises when he grasps at the flesh of your hips, pulling your lower-half flush against his pelvis.

You can feel him, hard and straining against his black slacks. It’s impossible not to moan, lips leaving his as your mouth falls open to release the breathy sound.

For a moment, you grind against his cock with your forehead pressed to his, using your hands wrapped around his neck as leverage. Feeling back muscles flex under your warm palms. The delicious slide of your soaked panties against his hardness is enough to drive you wild.

A gasp is pulled out of you when your clit catches briefly on his tip beneath clean slacks. Logan growls through clenched teeth, pressing you into him harder, fervently rolling his hips. The sound makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“Logan,” you whimper, aching for him as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Please.”

“Fuck,” he rasps before he’s scooping you up off the counter, hoisting you up over his shoulder. Squealing at the surprise demonstration of his great strength, Logan strides through the kitchen and towards the living room.

Desire burns deep in your belly as he carries you across the house like it’s nothing. He’s all broad chest, bulging biceps, and thick thighs. It makes you dizzy. You can’t help but reach out and pinch the meat of his thigh.

“Hey!” He barks.

Unsurprisingly quickly, Logan delivers a sharp smack to your ass and you yelp in shock, jolting against him. “So fuckin’ naughty.”

The lingering sting coupled with his gruff tone has you squirming in his hold, whining low in your throat.

In a single sudden motion, Logan manoeuvers you off his shoulder, dropping you onto the couch. And suddenly you feel deliciously small pinned beneath his hooded gaze. He towers over you. His staggering height emphasized from your perspective where you lay against the cushions.

He’s assumed that authoritative stance that has every atom in your body buzzing–his arms crossed over his chest. This paired with his hard gaze is a lethal combination. He’s got that look in his eyes, like what am I gonna do with you?

“Sorry.” Insincerity bleeds through your tone. You like to get him like this. To rile him up until he is more animal than man.

Hazel eyes narrow as he grunts, disbelieving your weak apology.

“You wanna be sorry?” He asks with a quick flick of his chin in your direction.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you nod. His chest rumbles with a deep sigh.

Unable to avert your gaze from his face, you bear witness to the glorious sight of Logan shedding his button-down. Your hips wiggle subtly in anticipation–though Logan would call it impatience. The cotton article is tossed carelessly over the chair by the couch.

He crouches down with a soft grunt, nods. “Okay.”

Swiftly, you are tugged to the edge of the couch by Logan’s hands on your hips. Your skirt gets rucked up your waist, exposing you to the warm air of the house. Though it feels far more jarringly cool between your legs where you’re hot and wanting, pussy weeping for the older man before you.

“So fuckin’ soaked already,” He mutters, more to himself than to you. The comment has pleasure boiling low in your belly.

“Logan.” He glances up at you briefly then returns his eyes to your cunt.

You watch with rapture as his nostrils flare, no doubt overwhelmed by your scent this close to your centre. A predator ready to devour its prey.

For the briefest of moments, Logan admires the wetness seeping through your panties, presses his thumb against the clothed, leaking well just to see your hips jump. Biting back a pathetic whine is far more difficult when his lips twitch into a faint smirk.

There’s a change in his eyes in a split second where brows lower and pupils dilate. It’s then that he rips your panties down your legs and you swear you hear the distinct sound of fabric tearing. Gasping, you toss your head back between your shoulders, panting and warm all over.

His chest rumbles with a guttural sound, savouring the sight of you spread open wide and dripping for him.

Logan’s rough hands rub up and down your thighs, hungry. When they pause you swear you can feel his gaze burning a hole into the column of your throat.

“Eyes,” He demands.

You obey, catching a glimpse of him stuffing your panties into his back pocket from where he kneels on the floor between your legs.

The anticipation eats you alive, hips flexing, unable to remain still. Logan pins them down in an instant.

Everything quiets. Tunnel vision casts out any and all sound or sight besides him.

“Don’t move,” Is all he says before he’s diving in and devouring you, tongue hot on your sensitive skin.

“Fuck!” you cry, hands plunging into his hair.

He’s groaning the second his tongue licks up your cunt, dining on your taste. He gorges on you like he’s been deprived of your taste for far too long and he’s hollow without it.

You’re drunk and dizzy on the way his beard scratches against your skin. The way the thick hair rubs against your cunt and sensitive inner thighs. A carnal craving satisfied. He’ll pull away after and be covered in you, unable to kiss you without smearing your desire across your own chin.

The rough tug you give his hair causes him to grunt into you. He eats you out with zeal, an energy that so often eludes him these days.

“Feels so good…Shit…So-” you babble on, only half aware of the praise spilling from your mouth.

For now, you are not sorry about his overzealous approach. But you will be. After, when the burn becomes a sting. When you are unable to walk for a week straight without feeling the roughness of his beard between your thighs. When he’ll reach over while he’s driving and squeeze your thigh meanly as a reminder.

For now, you moan unabashedly as he nips at your clit harshly. Free roaming hands find warm skin, grabbing fistfulls of you. Rubbing your thighs, grabbing at your hips, spreading possessively over your stomach. Soon, his hand snakes under your top to squeeze at your tits, and you gasp sharply when he pinches your nipple between thumb and forefinger.

The fire in your belly rages on, burning bright, spitting ash.

“Logan,” You whine, long and drawn out, when he shakes his head back and forth animalistically, coating more of his beard in your wetness, your scent. He grunts against your pussy at the sound of his name hot on your tongue, the vibrations it causes driving you mad.

His roughness makes your cunt throb. You derive as much pleasure from the sensation of his tongue licking up your slit and circling your clit as you do from simply watching him like this. His eyes shut in concentration, locked in as he laps up your juices like it sustains him. Like he is taking his fill of you before he hibernates for the winter.

Just the obscene sounds of his hunger, the slurping and the groans emanating from deep within his chest are enough to prompt your hips to grind up into the pleasure his mouth provides. And he accepts all of it enthusiastically.

You get lost in it, his wet muscle prodding at your entrance, licking up your slit to spread the wetness he’d collected over your clit. He sucks it between his lips, causing you to groan.

Briefly, Logan pulls away, and you whine in protest. But his pause allows you to glimpse the parts of his beard that are now matted down with wetness. The sight causes warmth to spread across your chest, equal parts humiliation and pleasure.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” he pants against your thigh, warm breath fanning over your puffy cunt. “Look at you,” he slurs, thumb rubbing over your pussy, spreading the wetness all over.

Your hips jump and you whine again. Logan growls a quiet, desperate sound before diving back in, practically making out with your pussy and inserting two of his thick fingers into your heat.

“Shit! Lo-” his name gets cut off with a girlish moan, a high sound only he could pull out of you, body completely overwhelmed by the excess of pleasure.

“There she is,” he drawls, voice muffled and thick with lust before enveloping your clit in the warmth of his mouth and sucking. Your grip in his hair tightens as your hips grind into his mouth and down onto his fingers. Fingers which curl up into the gummy walls of your cunt, languidly brushing that sensitive spot inside over and over.

Soon, slow movements evolve into quicker, but still consistent and deliberate, pumps into your weeping hole. It is precisely then that the ever-growing fire in your belly begins to consume you entirely. The moment Logan’s jaw goes slack and he begins to desperately lap at your cunt with a near entire loss of coordination, your vision goes white.

Your orgasm crashes over you, an all-consuming force as Logan continues to fuck you with his fingers. It’s like you are bursting at the seams, coming apart in his hands. Every cell in your body catches fire as you roll your hips into his hand, riding out the waves of your climax.

You’re panting as you come down, hips slowing to a stop as your body becomes over-sensitive to his touch. You twitch as Logan slowly pulls his fingers from you, his head falling to rest on your trembling thigh.

“You know…For an old man, that was-”

You suck in a sharp breath, hips jumping at the harsh sensation of Logan intentionally rubbing his beard over your already burning inner thighs. He chuckles lowly at your reaction, but is quick to soothe you, laying tender kisses across heated skin.

Your hands trail down from his hair, and stroke a thumb softly over his cheek. He allows the sweet touches to continue for several moments before he pushes off his knees with a grunt. Logan falls onto the couch next to you, legs spread wide. Eyeing him in your periphery, you can tell he’s just as exhausted as you; his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

You’re still panting softly as you watch him, your limbs like Jell-O, skirt hastily pushed up past your waist, and top askew. The sight of him licking his fingers clean of you makes your clit twitch despite its sensitivity.

Finally, he finds your eyes.

“C’mere,” Logan rasps, patting his thigh.

It takes great effort for you to crawl into his lap, and you don’t do it without some assistance. Logan’s hands grip your waist, pull you so you’re seated sideways over his thighs so as not to further irritate the burn.

You wind an arm around his neck, tenderly stroking the hair at his nape.

Logan rubs over the dough of your thighs, thumbs caressing between the split of them. Later, he’ll help you gently rub soothing lotion into them, but for now he’s all desire as he gazes down at where his hands press lightly into your legs.

“How’s that feel?” he asks quietly.

You can’t help but squirm in his lap a little, feeling him hot and hard beneath your thighs.

“Mmh,” you muse, staring down at his hands on you, legs raw and tingling. “Good.”

You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, the warmth of his body beneath yours. “Yeah?”

You nod, meeting his eyes before cupping his jaw and scratching softly at his beard, feeling the lingering wetness there. Briefly, his eyes drift shut and he groans quietly.

“How’s that feel?” you repeat his question back at him, teasing.

Logan growls, grabs the back of your head, and desperately presses his lips to yours in answer.

You moan softly into the kiss, holding his face in your hands as you lick into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue more than the whiskey now.

Then you’re trailing your hands down his chest and pulling away only briefly to tug his white tank off before your fingers deftly begin to undo his belt. The metallic clink it makes, the sound of leather sliding against cotton as it comes off, only makes your pussy clench around nothing as you whine into his mouth.

Your ardour makes Logan chuckle, breaking away from your lips in favour of kissing roughly down your neck. His hands now cup your jaw, allowing him to tilt your head back as his lips leave a trail of wet kisses across heated skin. You sigh as his beard tickles your neck.

“So needy,” he mumbles into your skin.

You groan and feel his smirk against the skin of your chest before he’s pulling your skirt and top off over your head and tossing them aside.

Wanting hands find their way into his hair again when he pulls away from your skin momentarily. He enjoys having you completely naked in his lap while he’s still mostly clothed. You can tell from the way his nostrils flare when he drags in a deep breath, the way his tongue wets his mouth before he pulls you close and latches onto your nipple.

He greedily licks and sucks and bites at one while palming the other in one large hand.

“Logan,” you breathe his name like a prayer, pulling him closer with hands locked in his hair.

His teeth graze your nipple, tugging it gently. Gasping in shock, your face twists up at the intense mix of pleasure-pain that swirls around in your gut. He releases your breast, breathing harshly over your now damp skin.

Impatient and needy, you can’t help but squirm in his lap, rubbing yourself over his hardness. Surely, you’ll leave a damp patch on his clean slacks. The thought only spurs you on, movements becoming desperate.

His cock twitches beneath you, tip probably an angry red and leaking sticky precum you selfishly wish to lick up. “Fuck, need to feel you, sweetheart.”

The whine his proclamation elicits borders on pathetic, and in a rush you’re helping him tug his slacks down just enough that his cock can spring free.

“So pretty,” you whisper, dragging your middle finger across prominent veins that run down his length, prompting him to twitch and hiss through his teeth.

Saliva begins to pool in your mouth, but you’re tugged back to Earth when Logan grabs your waist, ordering you to ‘turn around’.

Body buzzing in anticipation, you allow him to manhandle you into the right position, savouring the feel of his hands manipulating your movements.

“There ya go,” He praises, pulling your back flush against his chest. His hand sneaks up your chest. When it reaches your neck, he presses gently so your head falls against his shoulder.

Your eyes meet as your chest heaves.

“Open.”

Eyes remaining on his, you part your lips.

“Don’t swallow,” Logan instructs gruffly, brow quirked. He may as well have pointed a finger in your face, stern as he is.

You nod quickly, and he leans forward slightly to spit thickly onto your tongue. It’s so obscene a tremor wracks through your body as heat spills into your gut.

Hand below your chin, Logan closes your jaw for you, allowing his saliva to mix with your own before putting his hand in front of you, saying, “Spit.”

You obey a little messily, some ending up dribbling down your chin.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he says, smearing the sticky mess over your already messy cunt. You whine, all high and breathy. Still slightly sensitive.

Finally, he adjusts you, shoving you forward in his lap so he’s at the right angle to thrust into your wet heat.

Tandem groans are released into the air the moment he fills you. A millisecond to adjust. To savour how deeply he fills you before his hands are at your waist to help guide your movements.

Using your own hands on his legs as leverage allows for slow, deep thrusts that make your body quake. Those first sweet drags of his cock against your slick walls are enough to make you shudder.

Reaching a steady rhythm, you begin to pant, the exertion it takes to ride him like this tiring you out quickly. Though Logan is quick to help, supporting you with strong hands as he guides you up and down. Still, you’ve yet to lose your vigour. Entranced by the slow roll of your hips, the way his cock reaches the deepest parts of you in this position. His strong thighs bracketing your body.

“That’s it…That’s it.” Logan grunts lowly, nearly delirious and wholly mesmerized by how your body takes all of him. How you stretch around him to accommodate his size. Hypnotized briefly as he hungrily watches the place where you connect.

A gasp evolves into a moan as one of his hands leaves your waist in favour of seeking out the sensitive button at the top of your cunt. Clumsy fingers toy with your clit, slipping around messily. Flames lick at your nerve endings. On occasion he loses his place, unable to maintain a perfect rhythm from behind you, but just as quickly returns to circle the bud.

Another hand moves to your belly, pulling your body backwards, his sweat-slick chest now pressed up against your back. You wish you could drag your nails down his broad chest, watch as he loses himself in the feeling. But the closeness this position allows is worth the sacrifice.

Being nearly immobilized pressed up against him like this, giving him full control of your body, it feeds some deep desire. It’s the reason your head has gone a little fuzzy. He knows it too. He knows it when you let a whine slip past your lips. When you begin to grind back against him needily.

“Feel good, baby?” he rasps. At the same time, he rubs his middle finger over your clit in time with a deliciously deep thrust. All you can do is throw your head back against his shoulder, another wanton moan clawing its way up your throat, directly into his ear. That’s all the answer he needs.

Logan grunts in response. Pistoning hips setting a rhythm that is both intimate and punishing, making you dizzy. His closeness makes you dizzy. Those low grunts in your ear are enough to drop pearls of pleasure into the pit of your stomach. All of it contributing to the growing fog in your mind.

You writhe against him, an arm wrapping around the back of his head, keeping him close with a hand buried in his hair. Your other hand remains locked onto his forearm as it flexes with each rub of your sensitive clit.

Logan begins to grunt animalistically into your ear, unabashed about his desire for you. You feel it in the way his strong arms grip your body, ensuring your security. In the way he lets moans and grunts and groans rumble up from his chest, unafraid to let you hear what you do to him.

His hands all over your body, the deep strokes of his cock that reach the deepest parts of you, his soft grunts in your ear–it all feeds the flames in your belly.

“Fuck. S-so full,” you mewl, overwhelmed tears springing to your eyes.

“I know, baby. I know,” he placates, tone edging on mockery. His voice sends shockwaves through your body. The sweet humiliation it brings presses into your skin like a brand, leaving it white-hot.

More. You need more of him.

Desperately, clumsily, you grind back into him enthusiastically, writhing in his grasp. The rhythm turns staccato and messy as a result. But it doesn’t matter. You just need more.

You whine, turning your head towards him and he gets the hint, meets you halfway and licks hotly into your mouth the moment your lips meet. Your hands twist in his hair.

It’s messy and uncoordinated and your neck hurts twisted to kiss him like this. But then there’s the fiery taste of whiskey. And you. And him, his cigars. And the pain–it’s worth it. It’s necessary.

When you break away, only a thin line of saliva connecting your mouths now, it’s to gasp. Your brows furrow, pleasure twisting your insides.

You go cross-eyed trying to hold his gaze, and he grins. It’s a wolfish thing. A flash of his teeth, lips kissed red and puffy. The sight makes your pussy clench around him.

A smile tugs at your own mouth, probably fucked out and hazy with pupils blown wide. It only grows when the hand gripping your waist skims over your hot skin. On its journey, he grabs at your tits, pinches your nipple. Every sensation now blends together, overwhelming you with pleasure.

His hand pauses at the base of your neck where it grazes over the stretched expanse of skin.

A teasing squeeze. Once. Your brows knitting together. Twice. Your mouth dropping open. His grip not quite tight enough to cut off airflow and elicit that floaty feeling. But enough to make you whine low in your throat. You are at his mercy.

Eyes drifting shut, you cry out, feeling your climax building at the pit of your stomach. Breathy moans escape you with each rub of his finger over your sensitive bundle of nerves, edging on overstimulating. Each sharp thrust drives you closer to that edge, setting your body alight.

“Y’gonna come, honey?” Logan pants, voice hoarse.

These escapades exhaust him now. You’ve witnessed the way it sinks into his bones after. But there’s also the hint of a grin in his voice. Along with desperation. Desperation to feel you fall apart. An indication that the pleasure he provides, the pleasure he receives, is worth the exhaustion. It’s rewarding for him.

Your answer is the most pathetic whine, high and wanton as overwhelmed tears blur your vision, threatening to spill over. “Uhuh.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, and you swear his fingers were made to make you come apart at the seams when he rubs over your clit like that. Like it gives him pleasure too.

“Yeah,” you say, breathless, barely moving over his cock as he pounds into you from below, his strong legs beginning to tremble.

“Yeah,” Logan repeats. Mockery is thick on his tongue, a faux pout playing at his mouth. You lose it.

Everything else falls away. Tingling heat spreads beneath your skin as you finally let go. Your body thrums with your release, the feel of his damp skin at your back, his hands on your body, how full of him you are.

Logan has little room to be cocky. Because the moment you begin to clench around him–cunt pulsing with each wave of your orgasm washing over you–he’s grunting curses into your shoulder, leaving bite marks on the tender flesh as his warm seed spurts into you.

He shudders with his release.

“Fuck,” he growls, grinding up into you, his grasp on your body tightening.

In a flash, he removes his hand from your throat. And, distantly, past your post-coital fog, you hear the sound of metal unsheathing rapidly. You glance to your right.

Retracting claws reveal three deep holes pierced into the faux leather, showcasing thick wire springs and white stuffing.

Blearily, you drag your hand down his arm, running over hair and slowly aging skin. Reaching his wrist, you bring his hand up to your mouth, cup it in both of yours. You smooth your thumb gently over the edges of his knuckles, watch for moments as the holes very slowly begin to close.

You kiss his knuckles thrice. Once over each slowly healing wound.

Eventually, the skin will mend. The wounds will be nonexistent. They will heal in time. But his body is exhausted. And every time the claws come out, the cracks in his skin take longer and longer to repair themselves.

He collapses beneath you, rugged breaths pulled from tired lungs.

Carefully, he slides out of you and you help him tuck himself back into his boxers. Press a kiss to his forehead.

A whisper of, “Be right back.” against heated skin before leaving on unsteady legs to clean yourself up. His desire is a slow leak down your thighs now.

If he were a younger man, still full of strength and agility, he’d have done this part for you. You know he wishes he could. Part of you wishes he could too. But you like to take care of him too.

When you return, he’s still sunken into the couch, chest bare and sweaty. He accepts the glass of water you bring him, gulps it down thirstily.

Cuddling up next to him now, you brush the sweat-damp hair back from his face. You’ll allow him to pull you close. You’ll hold each other, stroke the skin beneath his eyes tenderly. The fresh dark circles there. And he’ll press soft kisses against the lingering bite marks on your shoulder, whisper praise into your ear.

When his honeyed eyes catch yours, you know he longs to spoil you. To scoop you up in his arms and take you to bed.

But this takes a lot out of him now. It will be days–maybe more–before you’ll be able to do something like that again.

So, you’ll take care of him. He’ll insist on having you underneath him. Begrudge the fact that the exhaustion will have yet to be leached from his bones. But acquiesce the moment your hands reach beneath his belt.

♡*♡*♡

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are greatly appreciated :)

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screampied · 7 months ago

Note

just need a oneshot where toji being so extremely soft with his pregnant wife.😔

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, toji's a big softie, calls reader 'mama' + 'baby' & 'darlin'

wc. 2.0k

toji rubs his eyes, pure static forming into his irises for a bit as he’d awaken up from his nap. with a quick glance at the clock, it read two thirty. in the background played the intro from some old western movie that was on repeat. ah, ever since you’ve gotten pregnant he’s always been staying up with you, ruining his sleep schedule in the process. not that he necessarily minded, you were his wife and he’d do anything for you,

his ears twitch a bit as he hears a sudden ruffling noise of feet — verdant eyes of his focus on you and it’s you trodding towards him and he smiles. “heyy,” he murmurs in a drowsy tone, he figured you’d be awake. toji stares at you so lovingly, the cute baby blue nightgown you wore, winnie the pooh slippers that dragged across the fleecy carpet. with a yawn, he pats his lap for you to take your seat. “y’er lil waddle never stops bein’ cute, mama.”

“stop.” you frown with a pouty look, he’d always tease whenever you do your cute little walk. he grows to adore it, the cute rounded bump on your belly only getting larger. pretty soon, you were about to reach your second trimester. time flew by so fast, it was almost like before you could blink, you’d be meeting your beloved new baby. you slowly make your way onto toji’s lap and he slings an arm around you. he smells good, you were a bit tired already from that ten second walk, cute..

“sorry baby,” toji utters in a soft voice, kissing the back of your head as you relax into his embrace, leaning back. “was gonna wake ya up but ya looked so peaceful,” and he brings a kiss near the inner crevice of your neck. “miss me already?”

you still remain with the cute glowering expression. with a sigh, you shrug. “yes, actually. missed you a lot.”

“awww,” toji caresses against your thighs, his touch was delicate and gentle. as he spoke in a gruff voice, he nips a few more kisses toward the corner of your neck as you faced the other direction. “missed you more. ‘n i missed our girl too,” and that catches you by surprise, he’d always refer to the baby’s gender as a girl. as if he could read your mind, he chuckles before leaning his head against your shoulder. “whaaat? got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”

“i think it’s gonna be a boy,” you mumble, feeling your heart flutter a bit. oh, it was always like this between the two of you. the constant banter of the gender, toji just knew it was gonna be a girl while you thought otherwise. he’d be happy with either or though. you, likewise. toji watches with half-lidded eyes as you turn your body a bit to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you plant a kiss on his chin, lips brushing against his stubble and he hums in amusement. “did you get any sleep at all? you have eye bags, ‘toj.”

“ah, ‘m fine,” he grins at your concern, the scar slashed near the right side of his lip twinging in response. you were so cute—the pregnancy glow you had bestowed on you, he could stare at you all day. toji leans in to kiss your nose, yet he notices your deadpan. with a grunt, he surrenders.

“okay okay, the most i got was maybe four-ish hours,” and the look of worry on your face made his heart twist. toji pats your head, smoothening his tone. “don’t worry, baby. it was for a good cause. was up all night readin’ that book you bought like last week.”

with your brows furrowing in confusion, your lips part at your abrupt realization. “oh— the pregnancy fact book?” and then you giggle. “really? i thought you said books were boring, toji.”

“trust, they are,” he sulks, bringing his wrist to rub his eyes. you take a brief glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday. despite it being unable to tell time anymore, he still flaunts it, all because it was a gift from you. with a low sigh, toji moves a few strands out of your face. “but, ‘m willing to try new things for you—er, for us. and it’s quite informative, it told me about y’er strange cravings ‘n it checks out.”

you frown. “what’s wrong with my cravings? you told me you like them.”

“well, darlin’ i love you a lot okay,” and he paints a wet kiss against your cheek. “but if i have to eat another peanut butter pickle sandwich with you, ‘m gonna lose it.”

“it’s not that bad,” you protest, bringing a palm near your stomach to rub it. the bump was easily growing as the weeks progressed—you couldn’t help but be excited once the week of forty rolled around. “you just have a bland appetite.”

toji rolls his eyes. “peanut butter and pickles, baby. not jelly, pickles. pickles?” and you look at him, he’s gently holding both of your shoulders before you giggle. “and i thought nothin’ could top the toast ‘n ice cream.”

you deadpan again. “okay now you’re just being dramatic.”

“i love you,” he boops your nose. “i love you and y’er weird food cravings,” and toji’s eyes trail down toward your tummy. so cute and round, he gingerly moves the fabric of your gown up to reveal your skin, a palm ghosting against your belly. “any cramps today? pain i should know about?”

“no,” you hum, immediately relaxing from his touch. the warmth of his hand made your breathing slow a bit. he moves it around in a smooth circular rotation before brushing a thumb against your belly button. “kinda scared toji.”

leafy, viridescent eyes meet its way back up to yours before his face softens. “what for, darlin’? good scared or bad scared?”

in a sweet, timid tone, you puff out a single shaky breath. “like … both i guess? i’m excited of course but ‘m kinda scared. we’re having a baby, toji. pretty soon i’ll be on my third trimester,” and he’s so attentive as you’re talking, quite literally getting lost in your eyes. who knew that you could turn this man into such a soft sap, he adored you. as you continue to rant, toji strokes your cheek with a warmhearted simper. “i watched lots of videos about birthing and it looks scary.”

“not gonna lie to you, baby. ‘s gonna be scary, but y’know what? ‘m gonna be right there with you,” and he strokes a thumb against the enlarging stretch marks growing against your belly. he’s gentle, tracing a finger against each one before his eyes avert back up to you. “i’ll be right beside you. holdin’ y’er hand ‘n all,” and he kisses the crown of your head. “y’er gonna be the prettiest mommy. our girl’s lucky to have you. i’m lucky to have you.”

for some reason, those last few words struck right through the veins of your heart. mentally, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry—

but alas, your eyes start to swell up, bottom lip quivering and toji notices immensely at your change of body language.

“awww, was that too much?” he purrs, bringing you towards his chest. you sniffle, your nose digging into his neck and an arm of his cradles you. toji starts to rock you, he presses another kiss against the top of your head before humming. “didn’t mean ‘ta make ya cry, darlin’ but ‘s true. ya don’t gotta worry that pretty little head, ‘m gonna be right here for anything..”

a solid tear drops against his tank top before your chin rests against his chest. you slowly look up at him with that familiar pouty expression before he swipes a thumb against your eyes. “cutie,” he takes your tears away, your lashes all damp and long. “y’er even more emotional because of the baby too. hormones, aw yeah i know these facts by heart.”

“you’re such a dork,” you wipe your face with a laugh, the mood suddenly light again. toji was gonna be spewing out pregnancy facts at you all day, you knew that now. whilst you sat up, trying to re-collect yourself, you speak in a soft voice. “but really, thank you toji. i love you,” and you grab ahold of his hand. your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing it tight. “you’ll be a great daddy.”

“heyy girl, don’t make me cry now,” he teases, a thumb of his running across the softness of your hand.

toji’s face relaxes, the more he stares into your eyes, the more he falls more and more in love.

toji was just as excited as you, maybe even more.

he couldn’t wait to start this new milestone, this new journey with you. a baby, the two of you would be proud new parents. the thought of it alone brings a soft smile to his face before he leans in to kiss you.

you return the gesture,

closing your eyes while feeling his warm lips mash against your own. toji was so weak for you, happily so.

life was worth living for him again now that he had you and the growing baby in your stomach. once you met him, he thought he’d never move on. he was a broken man who came to the mere conclusion that he had no purpose— all until you came along. toji didn’t believe in second chances, but maybe he’d start. you were his everything, and he couldn’t have been anymore grateful to have you in his arms at this right particular moment.

after a while, the kiss departs and toji smears a thumb against your glossed lips. “you drive me crazy,” he whispers, soft jade like irises peering into yours for about fourteen seconds before he sneaks a kiss near your jaw. “oh, you just reminded me. i ordered somethin’ the other day.”

with your interest piqued, you watch as he grabs out his phone— toji opens some shopping app, swiping a thumb near the check out section before showing it to you. what you were staring at was a cute huge pink sticker for cars that displayed the words of, ‘BABY ON BOARD!’

“you’re so cute,” you lean in to hug him, finding his enthusiasm adorable. a hand of his strums against your back before he leans against the couch. “you’re really set on it being a girl though, huh?”

“yeah,” he presses his nose against yours. “or if it’s a boy, we can name ‘em toji. such a manly name.”

your eye twitches. “one of you is enough,” and he smirks, feeling your thumb play against his scar. “but toji, ‘s like the afternoon. you should go back to sleep.”

“not tired,” he shakes his head, wrapping two arms around your sweet frame. your scent had him always wanting more of you, so sweet. toji pats your back gently before his face buries into your neck. “i’d rather stay up ‘n talk with you.”

“but i was gonna go back to sleep,” you pout.

toji huffs with a smile, kissing the shell of your ear. “oh, you want me back in bed, ‘s that it? darlin’ you could have just asked.”

you blankly stare at him and he guffaws, standing up and pulling you with him. “ah, c’mon. let’s go sleep for another fifteen hours i guess,” he teases, and he helps you walk. toji gawks at your cute waddle. so cute, you felt like you had so much water stored in you. entirely full, your heels slide against the floor before you hold onto your husband’s bicep. “there we go, one step at a time.”

“i’m not a baby, toji.” you mutter, secretly feeling yourself get hot from his doting affection. he’s holding onto you and you’re holding on to him.

“y’er my baby,” he corrects, and once the two of you reach the empty bedroom filled with infant supplies and boxes of baby furniture, you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. toji towers above you as you sit, cupping your face with a sly smile. “wife,” he coos in a gentle voice, two thumbs fondling against both sides of your temples. “i love you. never forget it, yeah?”

“i .. love you too toji.”

he hums. “heh, before we sleep though. how about some pickles?” and your face lights up.

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji x you #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader

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timmydraker · 15 days ago

Text

When patrolling together, Red Robin and Robin get cornered by the Joker.

They aren’t too worried at first considering he’s seemingly only got a dozen men and others are on patrol, but then they see what the men are holding.

Joker had made a new Joker venom and they are seemingly the test subjects.

Damian is instantly ready to fight, but Tim is running the odds through his mind and it’s not good. They have a good chance of getting out, they are trained after all, but not without one or both of them getting the venom and who knows how long it will take to make a cure of a new concoction.

Tim can’t let that happen.

Jason, Barbara, himself…

Damian will not be added to the list of people of people tormented by this mad man.

With coms being out of reach as the two went into a private channel so they wouldn’t get in trouble for bickering, and their every move being watched, Tim had few choices.

Tim swallows and pushes Damian behind him, standing tall with his chin up even as his hands start to shake.

Damian starts to protest but Tim is speaking first, “Let him go and you can-… can have JJ back.”

The way Joker starts to grin even wider, slow and painful, is the most unnerving sight Tim has seen in a long time.

Joker laughs loud and starts clapping.

“Oh joy, oh joy! This is more fun than I thought! Always so good at surprises, JJ!”

His laughing doesn’t stop as Tim shakily turns to his little brother, who’s almost eighteen but still little even as he grows taller than him, and holds onto his shoulders.

“Robin, I need you to listen to me. You have to let me go with them or you’ll get hurt, okay? You have to promise me you won’t follow us because I can’t let you get hurt like me and-“

One of the goons takes the chance to knock Robin out and lets him slump into Tim’s arms.

Just as he begins to panic about them hurting Damian or bringing them with him, Joker comes up behind him and wraps an arm move his shoulders, “Don’t worry about him, JJ! Little Robin number… whatever, will be just fine! Batsy will find him and take him back to his nest, while we…” - Joker leans in so he can whisper in his ear - “have a little family catch up!”

Tim nods, not finding it in himself to smile or play along yet, but keeping up his end of his offer.

It takes one day of shocks after his forced make over for him to settle back into the role he learnt the first time. Last time it took two and half a weeks for him to give in and learn his part properly, and then a few more days before he was rescued, but this time it feels almost natural as he puts on a big grin and starts a familiar giggle.

He thinks of Damian, who may have been turned into Joker Junior Junior or some other absurd name, and tells himself it’s worth it to protect him from any more trauma.

Tim is kept for a month, playing house with a mad man who makes rants about JJ’s mother leaving him for a woman and being tortured every time he doesn’t laugh quick enough or seems just a little distant.

When he’s found he doesn’t realise. He’s just sitting there at a dinner table with straps on the chair keeping him down. He’s laughing loudly, knows if he stops he’ll be hit or shocked or forced to drink some kind of toxic chemical until he pukes up blood. He can’t stop, because Papa will be mad and he’s scary when he’s mad and mama isn’t there anymore.

When he process the change of scenery he finds himself in a hospital bed in the cave.

JJ and Tim are so blurred into the same person that when he sees Damian he has no idea who he is at first. He almost expects someone younger, the little boy who first showed up, because that’s the little boy he gave himself up for.

But when Damian stared back at him and starts to tear up Tim finds himself remembering who he wants to be.

He pulls his little brother into his arms, jostling Alfred the Cat, and sobs into his hairline while ignoring the green in his periphery and praying he doesn’t start to laugh.

He fails, but Damian doesn’t give up on him.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #dc #tim drake is red robin #damian wayne #joker jr #joker junior #dc joker #joker

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misswynters · 1 month ago

Text

Broken and whole

pairing | Viktor x gn!reader

no warnings just passionate kissing

a short drabble until we wait for the next three episodes with jesus viktor <3 (he’s always been so fine)

– let me know if you would like to get tagged in arcane fics

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3

In the night sky as the moonlight shines through the windows, the lab was filled with the low hum of machinery. It had a faint metallic scent of Viktor’s latest work. You leaned against the wall, watching him from across the room as he worked, utterly engrossed in his latest project. He had changed so much recently, both in body and spirit. The hextech augmentation now coursing through his leg gave him a powerful, refined look, yet you sensed a hidden struggle behind his carefully guarded gaze. You knew how he was. His mind was only half here, the other was lost somewhere between ambition and uncertainty.

He hadn’t noticed your arrival yet, too focused on the delicate mechanisms of the device in front of him. You admired him, his steady hand, his unwavering concentration, the way his golden eyes seemed to burn with a fire that was part passion, part burden. Yet you could see the toll it took, even if he would never admit it.

“Viktor,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him.

His head lifted, and his intense gaze softened slightly as he saw you. “Ah,” he said, letting out a breath, “I didn’t realize you were here.” There was a hint of relief in his voice, as if your presence offered him a reprieve from the depths of his mind.

You approached him slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of the table. “I wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. “It’s been days, Viktor. You need to rest.”

A flicker of defensiveness crossed his face, but it melted quickly, replaced by something almost vulnerable. “Rest,” he echoed, his voice laced with exhaustion. “It feels like a luxury I cannot afford.”

You stepped closer, your heart aching at the sight of him so worn down, so caught between his dreams and the demands of his body. “Even visionaries need a break,” you murmured, reaching up to gently place a hand on his shoulder. He was warmer than you expected, his skin cool to the touch from the metal but still unmistakably him.

Viktor looked down at your hand, as if surprised by the intimacy of the gesture. His gaze softened, and he let out a soft, reluctant sigh. “Perhaps… perhaps you’re right,” he admitted, a slight smile breaking through the intensity of his features. “You always have been, haven’t you?”

There was a warmth in his voice that pulled you closer, and for a moment, you forgot the cold metal and complex machinery that surrounded you. You reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face, feeling the tension ease from his shoulders under your touch.

“Viktor…” you murmured, your voice almost trembling with the unspoken words you had held back for so long. He looked at you, truly looked, his golden eyes reflecting something vulnerable, something raw that he rarely let show. “Yes?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your fingers tracing along his jawline, feeling the softness of his skin against the hardness of his prosthetic. His eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head toward you, his gaze focused solely on your face, as if you were the only thing grounding him in this moment.

“I worry about you,” you whispered, your voice almost lost in the quiet hum of the lab. “You give so much of yourself, but you leave so little room for…” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “For someone to care for you.”

Viktor’s expression softened, his hand lifting slowly to touch yours, his fingers tentative but warm. “I… I hadn’t realized,” he murmured, his gaze dropping for a moment before he met your eyes again. “But with you, it feels… different.”

A moment of silence passed between you, and in that silence, the unspoken words lingered, the weight of everything you had both held back coming to the surface. Slowly, almost hesitantly, Viktor leaned forward, his face mere inches from yours.

“Different how?” you asked, your heart pounding as you felt his breath against your lips.

“Like I could… lose myself in you,” he whispered, a vulnerability in his voice that shook you to your core.

Before you could respond, his lips brushed yours, soft at first, testing, as if he was afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you leaned into him, your hands moving to cup his face as he deepened the kiss, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. There was a hunger in his kiss, a desperation that spoke of the weeks, months, maybe even years he had spent holding back, afraid to want this, to want you.

The passion between you ignited, his lips pressing against yours with a fervor that surprised you both. Viktor’s hand slid to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, as if he needed to feel every inch of you, as if he were afraid you might vanish. His breath was ragged, each exhale a confession of how long he had kept himself from this moment.

He pulled back, only slightly, his golden eyes searching yours, his face open in a way you had never seen. “You…” he whispered, as if the words failed him, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are the one thing that makes me feel whole.”

You could see the storm of emotions in his gaze. Desire and hope. They were all woven together, vulnerable and unguarded. You wrapped your arms around him, letting yourself sink into the feeling of him holding you, his heartbeat quickening against yours.

“You don’t have to carry everything alone, Viktor,” you whispered, pressing your forehead to his, your fingers trailing down his arm, feeling the cool metal beneath your fingertips. “I’m here. Let me carry some of it with you.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath as he held you close, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his fingers tangled in your hair. “I never thought…” His voice cracked, and he took a moment to steady himself. “I never thought anyone could love someone like me.”

Your heart ached at the words, at the quiet self-doubt that he kept buried so deep. You tilted his chin up, meeting his gaze with all the strength you could muster. “I don’t love you despite anything, Viktor,” you said, your voice steady. “I love you because of who you are, all of you.”

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and then he kissed you again, harder this time, as if pouring everything he couldn’t say into the kiss. His hand moved to your waist, pulling you even closer, his fingers pressing into you as though you were his anchor, the one steady point in the storm that was his mind.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together in the quiet of the lab, lost in each other. Viktor’s hand traced gentle patterns along your back, his touch tender, almost reverent, as if he was memorizing every detail of this moment. And in that embrace, in the warmth of his kiss, you felt him let go of the weight he carried, just a little, as he allowed himself to surrender to you, even if only for this fleeting, stolen moment.

banner by. @cafekitsune

#arcane spoilers #viktor arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane #viktor league of legends #viktor x reader #arcane viktor #arcane x reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane s2 #jinx x reader

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