#i can’t even begin to imagine how that would feel
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Omg I’m so sorry for leaving you hanging ;-; I can only offer the excuse of crippling school projects, but I’m back!
Dr. Stone Spoilers for most of the story
Okay so your point about him being a good leader actually opened up a can of worms in my brain. This is def kind of off topic? But I think it’s interesting so I want to write it down for my own sanity.
For a while know I’ve been coining Senkuu as a bad leader, or at least not ideal for personal writing purposes, but your comment made me rethink it. Looking at things with a fresh start, I realized Senkuu is a good leader, but not in the way I was originally imagining. (Doing my best to keep it as canon as possible) Senkuu 1. Cares deeply about people, not just his own 2. Is very strategic and thinks of the future 3. Does not want power. These 3 aspects make him a good leader, especially in the setting of Dr. Stone.
To use an analogy, He would be a very good science club leader, which is kind of what he is. He is dedicated to the craft, and can manage a small group of people with similar goals, and rather than excluding others, he encourages and fights for them to join his club of nerds.
However!
For the first part of Dr. Stone, that works fine. It’s just the Kingdom of Science and the Empire of Might. It’s like 140 people, who although need some coaxing, can work together. But once America hits and they have Zenos people how have very different ideas, and all sorts of other civilizations across the globe… people are going to have conflicting ideas. There’s always going to be Tsukasas, misguided people, and Hyogas and Homuras, people who don’t mean well and try to shape the world in their making. This is where I believe Senkuu is no longer the best choice, as I don’t think he could handle managing and keeping peace between all of these people, in addition to perusing and steam heading science projects. Obviously there’s people to help him do these things, but it’s a lot.
Many people instead make Ryusui the main leader, which is not a bad decision. He’s used to leadership and thrives in positions of power, and cares about the people around him, even if they don’t like him(most of this comes from his confidence/arrogance, but still). He is great at planning and managing people, and is decent at working with people who have different views than him. However he doesn’t really understand the differences between what people say/think they want, and what they need, and he could make bad decisions based on that misconception. In addition, Ryusui is pretty disconnected from the people around him as he had a very different upbringing, and can’t always relate to people. This makes him a caring leader, but unable to properly act this way.
Both he and Senkuu are decent leaders on their own, but still not great. In conclusion, I say the best solution is to have the 5 generals, so some other council, in charge. They balance each other’s faults, this sharing of power relieves the pressure of leading the entirety of humanity from 1 person’s shoulders.
Main tangent over lol.
I def agree about Senkuu trying to save everybody, including Tsukasa, with all of the stuff happening at the beginning of Treasure Island Arc being a lot to juggle. This means to me that his decision to give Hyoga and Homura to the “authorities”/legal system is weak evidence for him being lawful.
I feel like we’re running this thread dry, so I pose another question: How do you feel about the ending of the manga, and how would you change it? I have some strong thoughts about those last few arcs lol.
*offers microphone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other*
Also happy holidays!!
Your honor they're homosexuals
#I’m really enjoying this#sorry I disappeared for like 2 weeks#I got Covid and had 3 ELA projects#lmao#also what other fandoms are you into?#I like HXH and Harry Potter#and others#<33#dr. stone#ishigami senku
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telling some guy that you’re celibate but you tell clark he can nail your shit 🎶🎶
“celibate.”
the word left your lips so often it didn’t even feel like a word anymore. any time a guy got too close, any time there was a guy you didn’t want to touch you — celibate. you were celibate. yes it is a choice, no you can’t change my mind.
you had needs, of course you did — needs you were mostly happy with fulfilling yourself, because lord knows the guys around you wouldn’t know how to please you. you heard the horror stories from your girl friends, about how they’d get jack hammered for 3 minutes, or if they’re lucky — two fingers jammed inside them, digging for loose change between couch cushions. you were happy to be alone.
you often wondered how men could feel such uncontrollable lust, the type that makes them say such vulgar things out loud. all the disgusting terms you’d learnt, you’d learnt from the disgraceful propositions you’d received, or ‘compliments’ that you were meant to be thankful for. “i’d nail her shit.” one says when you walk by him. you’re more interested by his word choice than anything.
all of a sudden you understand when clark comes around. the ridiculous tidal wave of lust that filled your body. your poor virgin hole that would quiver when he’d smile humbly at you in passing or help lift something heavy, biceps rippling. you’d watched him peel his sweaty tshirt off his body whilst mowing the grass on the farm enough times for you to be able to memorise how it looks perfectly in your mind when you’re furiously rubbing yourself at night time. you were beginning to feel less in control. you were beginning to feel less celibate.
you know he’d look after you. he was respectful and competent and big in all the ways that left nothing to the imagination. he wouldn’t pressure you, he’d take the time to learn all your spots — just the thought had you pressing your legs together, and soon it was too much to handle. you became drunk on the thought of him having you, soon enough winding up in his barn, pawing at him, whining.
“i just want it to be you, clark i — i trust you!” you almost groan, gripping at his shirt, wanting to feel his skin.
“hey, what’s gotten into you?” he asks, voice filled with concern, tone still gentle as he wraps ginormous fingers around your wrists and effortlessly pries you off, trying to level himself with you. “you said you were celibate, i — i think it’s important you stick to your own rules, you know? you don’t wanna do anything you regret down the line.” he has the audacity to blush adorably, placing two hands on the tops of your arms to steady you incase you try to lurch for him again.
you were so needy that embarrassment had evaded you and tears filled your eyes. you shake your head.
“i only said that to guys because i didn’t want them, i… i want you clark, please.” you sound defeated and he softens, staring at you as he susses you out. you suck in a gulp, eyes fluttering as you ready yourself to repeat the vulgar words you once had placed upon you. “‘want you to nail my shit.” it comes out slightly rushed, slurred, bordering on a desperate groan. his eyebrows lift.
“you…what? you taught you that, sweet girl?” he’s babying you now and it’s not helping, cupping your cheek in concern— because who on earth could teach such an innocent girl such foul language?
“clark…” you manage a whisper, this time taking his hand. he allows you now, eyes curiously following as you shakily drag it to your crotch before stuffing it into your panties, shuddering at the feeling of his coarse fingers sliding experimentally over your slit until it finds the sticky honeypot of arousal at the centre of the fabric, soaking through obscenely.
“wow… you really need it, huh?” he breathes, voice laced with awe.
“you, i need you.” you correct, matching his tone as you search his eyes for any more hesitation. his confidence returns, falling back into his regular calm and self assured self as he adjusts to the situation.
“well i think i can help you explore that. why don’t you lay down over here?”
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new traditions 💍 joshua x reader.
it's christmas day and joshua still loves you.
★ fiancé!joshua x reader. ★ word count: 1.3k ★ genre/warnings: fluff, talk about marriage/weddings. heavily inspired by toneejay's bagong tradisyon. ★ footnotes: this is a quick one (a 1/2, if you will), but it's a christmas gift for the first friend i made on here. @chugging-antiseptic-dye, it's a privilege being a carat the same time as you! i offer you your husband (literally), and one of the songs that you & i bonded over. i'm in your corner all the way across the sea. 💌
The brass of the apartment key is cold between your fingers.
You turn it over, absentmindedly tracing its biting and shoulder. This is one of two copies; the original remains in Joshua’s safekeeping.
Speak of the devil, you muse when you hear his faint call of “Love?” from the living room.
You tear yourself out of your thoughts enough to pocket the key and pad out of the apartment’s one bedroom. What greets you is a sight for sore eyes. Cardboard boxes strewn across the floor, luggage bags practically bursting at the seams.
In the middle of it is Joshua. Your Joshua.
After all these years, you’re not any less accustomed to the sight of him— even if it is just him in a black, ribbed tank top. He had opted to dress down, knowing that moving day would entail a lot of hauling and organizing.
When you step into the room, the initial look of frustration on his expression gives way to something more affectionate. This is what his friends constantly teased him about— how Joshua was so damn soft for you.
It didn’t matter. It was a feeling you reciprocated, anyway.
“Love,” he starts as he gets to his feet. From the look of it, he had been sorting through the cutlery. “Where did you pack the mugs?”
You gingerly step through the fort of boxes, your eyes skipping over the tape bearing the contents of each carton. “Should be with the plates,” you note. “It was one of the last boxes you brought in.”
Joshua lets out a thoughtful hum. In the next five minutes, he finds exactly what he’s looking for.
“Thank you,” he says distractedly. “Love you.”
There it was. The easy, unconscious way in which Joshua would dole out those words. It didn’t matter where the two of you might be, whether you were with friends or if it was just the two of you.
Ordering takeout? I’ll have a pizza. Love you. Visiting his parents’ house? Shop with mom for a bit, ‘kay? Love you. Falling asleep together after a long day? A yawn, and then a quiet exhale. Love you.
To Joshua, loving you was as much of a given as breathing.
There are times when you underestimate it, when you think the words may lose their gravity because of how often he says them. That had been your fear in the beginning. You kept the words close to your heart, saving them for special occasions and big moments.
Consequently, you don’t respond to him, too distracted by the box containing your pillows and comforters. As always, Joshua refuses to stand for that.
With a furrowed brow, he abandons his mug-organizing to saunter over to your side.
“I said,” he says pointedly, his arms finding purchase around your waist. He gently pulls your back to his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I love you.”
The petulant tone of his voice draws a laugh from you. You can’t quite turn your head to see his face but you can already imagine the expression he’s sporting. His lips, downturned into a frown. His eyes narrowed slightly.
“I love you, too,” you respond. You reach behind you, the position a little awkward, as you attempt to pat Joshua’s hip reassuringly.
He lets out a low scoff. His hands move up to your shoulders so he can ever so carefully turn you around until you’re facing him.
You’ve never been a particularly superstitious person. Neither is Joshua. Even so, the two of you didn’t want to risk anything, and so you subscribed to every existing credulous belief about moving houses.
You didn’t do it on a rainy day or a weekday. You opted for a day where the moon phase would be a new moon. Most importantly, you made sure to arrive before six in the morning. The last one was a nod to starting the new day, supposedly promising homeowners a prosperous beginning.
At first, you had been vehemently against the thought of getting up at the crack of dawn to begin the whole moving process. Now, though, you find yourself grateful for it.
The sunlight starting to streak through the window has Joshua glowing as he holds you. He’s incandescent, all honeyed skin and warm eyes. The real clincher is that he looks at you like you’re the sun itself.
“I see how it is.” He heaves out a dramatic sigh, his gaze fond despite his alleged annoyance. “I put a ring on your finger and you get cocky.”
Said engagement ring glints in the morning light as you go to rest your arms over Joshua’s shoulders. You return his jab with a roll of your eyes.
“Are we really going to fight on our first morning in our new place?” you bite out.
Joshua responds with an exaggerated gasp. “Who said we’re fighting? I would never fight you. I couldn’t bear to do it.”
You have half the mind to push the envelope, to insist that his attitude has led to a good number of spats. But there’s a part of you that knows he’s right, too. Joshua would sometimes be on the verge of tears when the two of you were getting into more serious arguments, and it was in large part because he couldn’t stomach the prospect of even raising his voice at you.
When you don’t contest him immediately, Joshua flashes you a winning smile. He rewards your concession with a lingering kiss to your forehead, and you begrudgingly take the ‘prize’.
His lips are still on the top of your head when he mumbles, “Say that again.”
“Hm?”
“I liked the sound of that. ‘Our place’,” he hums as he pulls away to grin at you.
Joshua wasn’t always vocal about his feelings on your big move, but it was in moments like these that you’re reminded just how badly he wanted it. How he had dragged you to IKEA every weekend in search of the perfect table linens and curtains. How he had gone through all the forms and processes with ruthless efficiency. How he had begun to include it in his prayers, the plea unassuming and full of hope.
Lord, please let me have this.
You’ve never been able to deny Joshua a thing. Your fingers go to stroke the short hair at his nape. Instinctively, his eyes flutter close at your ministrations.
“Our place,” you concede to repeating. “Welcome to our place, love.”
The dreamy smile that tugs at his lips makes it all worth it. His eyes flutter open, and he stares at you with a new kind of devotion.
There’s still a lot that the two of you have to do. Joshua has yet to contact an internet provider to get the apartment WiFi. You need to figure out how to transport the bigger pieces that the two of you have purchased, like the couches and the wardrobes.
But for now—
Joshua leans down to kiss you. And it’s everything. It’s his litany of love you’s throughout the years. It’s the way his hands shook when he got down on one knee. It’s the unpacked couple mugs, and the bed that you’re going to share, and the life that awaits the two of you.
When he breaks the kiss to breathe, he doesn’t go too far. His mouth is still against yours when he softly says, “This is the best Christmas ever.”
Initially, you want to agree. Instead, you find yourself whispering back, “No.”
You go on, “We’re going to have a dozen more Christmases together.”
“A hundred,” he shoots back in between giggles.
You’re not usually one to give in to your fiancé’s hyperboles, but you’re willing to make some exceptions. “A thousand,” you promise, making him laugh a little more.
Outside, day breaks.
There is a key in your pocket, a ring on your finger, and your heart in Joshua’s safekeeping.
BONUS — translated toneejay's bagong tradisyon for your reading/listening pleasure. here's to the loves that last us entire lifetimes.
This year The two of us will live Under the same roof Oh, oh You said You're excited to see What our new traditions will be Oh, oh And Christmas will never be sad again Because you have me And I have you Until the end Until we both turn to ash Until the grave Until we both turn to ash Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh Our bodies May grow old But my feelings for you Will stay the same Until the end Until we both turn to ash Until the grave Until we both turn to ash Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh If there is no more love That only means I'm no longer around If there is no more love That only means you're no longer around Until the end Until we both turn to ash Until the grave Until we both turn to ash Oh-oh-oh-oh Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh This year The two of us will live Under the same roof
#svthub#joshua x reader#joshua imagines#joshua fluff#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#୨ৎ penned by ylangelegy#୨ৎ muse .ᐟ svt#( a!!!! i am a fluff writer for u and only for u )
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Christmas Day
(The last one!! Thank you to everyone who has read all of the concepts over the last 12 days and everyone who has sent any in. So much love to you all 🫶🏻)
———————
Just thinking about Christmas Day with Mason and all of the different ways you could spend it together…
So we know he usually spends Christmas Day with his family, so imagine being a part of that. Maybe you and Mason don’t actually live together yet but he invites you over to sleep at his and wake up with them all on Christmas morning. He understands that you’d still need to see your family so maybe you and Mason would see them on Christmas Eve before driving back to his together.
All of his family would be staying so Christmas morning would be chaotic, but in the best way possible. You’d all sit together in the living area, with Mason sitting right next to you, pulling you into his side and you’d snuggle into him, tugging on a blanket that rests over the back of the sofa so it falls over your laps. You’d all take turns opening presents, watching his two nieces as they tear through the paper, joy lighting up their faces every time they find a toy or something they’d asked Santa for.
You’d love getting to spend Christmas with him and his family, and would always be grateful for how welcoming they are towards you, always making you feel like part of their family, but you’d also love the little moment that you and Mason get together.
Maybe you’d make the effort to wake up a little earlier than everyone else, taking the opportunity to cuddle and be together in bed for a while before all the craziness starts. It would be hard to stay awake, his warmth and the feeling of his fingertips tracing patterns over your skin the perfect recipe to fall back asleep, but he makes sure to wake you up if you do drift back off. Maybe you’d even exchange a few presents with each other before going to find everyone else, some of them a little more meaningful or just ones you don’t want to open in front of the rest of his family, like Mason would always buy you some new lingerie and would obviously want you to open that when it’s just the two of you.
Maybe there’d even be a bit of lazy morning sex. You’ve always been a bit funny about having sex with him whilst his family are in the house because what if they hear or walk in on you, but the door is locked anyway and the minuet he gives you those eyes you know you’re going to give into him. It would be the soft, lazy kind, a little bit of foreplay leading up to him thrusting into you slowly, under the covers with both of you still wearing your PJ tops because you were so desperate for eachother that you never got around to taking them off. There’d be loads of kidding to keep eachother quiet and you’ve have to have a quick shower to clean up and make yourselves look more presentable, and less like you’ve just had sex before going downstairs to be with the rest of his family.
Now thinking about spending Christmas Day together when you’ve got your own children…
I spoke about how Christmas Eve would go as a family of four in the last concept, so leading on from that they’d both come bounding into your bedroom as soon as they’re awake, waking you and Mason up to tell you that Santas been. They’re both so excited and you know you can’t make them wait any longer so you’d follow them downstairs to begin opening the presents.
Maybe you’d let them open all of their presents from ‘Santa’ first and then you’d take a little break, not wanting all of the excitement to be over so soon. You’d make some breakfast, with Mason putting in the effort to make it an extra special one, even attempting to make some snow man shaped pancakes before going out on a family walk. Maybe one of their presents were new bikes or scooters so you and Mason follow behind them whilst they ride them.
When you get home again you let them open the rest of your gifts, all of them would be from you and Mason though, signed ‘from Mummy and Daddy’ and it would warm your heart because every time they open one they’d come running over to thank you and give you each a hug. Then you and Mason would get to open your gifts from each other, the little ones just as interested in what you’ve each opened.
It would be the best morning ever and once all of the wrapping paper is tidied away you’d start getting ready to go and spend the rest of the day with family.
And I’m sure there’d be some christmases where you and Mason wake up with just the two of at home.
Maybe you’re hosting the rest of his family in the afternoon for Christmas dinner but it’s your first year living together so you wanted to experience waking up and spending Christmas morning just the two of you in your new home.
You’d wake up with absolutely no rush to get out of bed, having the laziest of lazy mornings before giving each other your gifts and having breakfast in bed before it gets so late that you have to get up and start getting ready.
The two of you trying to make Christmas dinner together would be interesting. Maybe you’d offered to cook it this year since you’ll be hosting anyway and some of it goes really well, but some of it not so much. It would take up the majority of the day, each of you taking control of certain dishes to make the process a little quicker but you still end up needing the help of his mum and sister when they arrive in the early afternoon, wanting their help with things like the turkey because you’re too worried about somehow messing it up and ruining the whole meal. Mason would also be feeling extra touchy and would be all over you the whole time, not necessarily making it easy for you to focus on the cooking when his hands are roaming everywhere.
Christmas with him would just be the best, whether you’re spending it just the two of you or with the whole family, and I know that he’d spoil you rotten, buying you loads of gifts even if you told him not to but you’d love everything he gets for you. He knows you so well and can tell when you want something even if you don’t actually say it. Like a lot of your gifts would be things he’s seen saved in your favourites or wish lists, or things he knows you want but would never buy yourself. And you’d spoil him to, wanting him to have just as much to open even if he is quite hard to buy for.
———————
Day 12 Concept night tomorrow. I’ll be working so I’ll be scheduling them all to post 10 minuets apart 🫶🏻 please send them in asap if you have any 😚
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Untitled Jayvik throwaway
“It doesn’t mean a thing to me if you’re different” Jayce spoke softly to Viktor, his hand cupping his face.
Viktor had no idea how he ended up in this predicament. His lab partner was so close he could smell his cologne, hell he could smell the liquor on his breath. “You’re just saying that” he replied, turning his head away from his calloused hand. “You wouldn’t even begin to understand the differences we own”
What was once a normal day in the lab had turned so quickly into a sloppy mess, how had this happened? A celebration of their newest accomplishments, a little liquor, and maybe being in each other's closeness a little too often had led to this, but Viktor couldn’t help but squirm away from him. Tipsy or not, he didn’t think of his lab partner as anything other than such, or at least that’s what he wanted to think. It was impossible to not get so close after working day and night together like they had, but he’d never imagine they’d be THIS close, or that Piltover’s golden boy would find him attractive. He could have anyone he wanted, so why him?
“Then indulge me”, Jayce said, as he pulled his hand back and gave the other some space so that he wasn’t almost pinning him to the counter. He could see Viktor visibly relax, his hand on his cane adjusting for a better hold. “I know that you’re ill, I can see that, but ill or not I still have these feelings for you, and I can’t very well hold them back any longer”
“Why me?”, was all Viktor could muster, lowering his eyes from the other’s intense gaze.
“Why not you?”
Viktor has a secret, something he felt he couldn’t share with anyone. In order to fit into Piltover’s greater society he had to keep it to himself. He worked harder than anyone else to deserve where he was at now. A great scientist, an amazing discoverer of magics yet to be harnessed. He wouldn’t let his illnesses defeat his sheer will to create.
Working hard in the laboratory side by side with his partner Jayce they did amazing things, even if the council was unconvinced in its usefulness. Most nights he would stay at the lab, sleeping sprawled across the desk and his notes, but every so often he would need to return home, and home was the safest of places for him. A place where he could rest as he really needed to.
Wearing a binder wasn’t safe for long periods of time, he knew that, but work required his attention. It wasn’t like he needed a binder, he was already fairly flat and could hide well enough under layers of clothing, but he enjoyed the extra security it offered. At home he could strip down from all the extra things his body required, braces and such, but it always felt best to take off that damned binder at the end of a long day. His body ached but he made his way to the shower to clean off.
Under the warm water he found himself thinking of his lab partner, the way his eyes sparkled when they were on the brink of discovery, the way his voice quickened. He would be stupid to deny that he was handsome as well as smart. He sighed softly under the warmth and tried to let his thoughts drift off to anything else, but they’d always come back to him. There wasn’t anything he could do about it, Jayce was just so enticing. His broad shoulders and chest, his physique spoke of being more than a scientist and Viktor wondered how he found the time to make it to the gym as well as work in the lab. He hummed softly as he washed his hair then the rest of his body before getting out to dry off.
He hobbled over to the mirror and wiped away the condensation before leaning in and taking a closer look at his face. It was gaunt, like always. No matter how much he ate, or what he did, he always looked like he was at the brink of starvation, a ghost of a man. He hated how smooth his skin was, and thought of how effortless it seemed for Jayce to grow a beard in the days they’d be working on something. Hardly anything grew on his own, not even peach fuzz. He sighed and instead grabbed a nearby brush and ran it through his hair, the one thing he was proud of. He took great care to detangle it. Once he was done brushing his hair he made sure to dry off completely, throwing the towel over a rack before leaving his bathroom completely nude to return to his bed.
It wasn’t until he heard a key drop that he realized he wasn’t alone. He was maybe halfway to his bed when he heard the noise, followed by a sharp gasp. No other feeling could describe how he felt other than a deer in headlights. He looked across the room towards the door past the small kitchenette, and in the doorway was Jayce standing there looking dumbfounded.
Jayce quickly turned around and faced the door, “S-Sorry!”, he yelled out, “I thought I would come check on you since you weren’t at the lab–”
“GET OUT, GET OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW”, Viktor shouted. He quickly grabbed the sheet off his bed and covered himself from chest to toe, his whole body flushed with embarrassment.
Without saying another word, and without picking up the dropped key Jayce fumbled the doorknob of his apartment and left.
How could he have not heard the door open? What all did he see? Pretty obviously his whole naked ass body. Viktor sat on his bed and groaned, his face falling into his hands. His biggest secret was out, and so stupidly. What could he do about this now? He tried to regain his composure but instead let himself fall onto his side in his bed, curling up and holding himself tightly.
—-
It had been days since the incident and Viktor was nowhere to be seen. Jayce worked hard in the lab despite this. He wondered when the other would return to work, he’d almost never missed a day despite his illnesses, so this was unnerving to him. He felt awful for walking in on him, and still couldn’t wrap his brain around what he saw. He chalked it up to late nights working hard, blurring his vision and making him see things, because he thought he saw Viktor, but with the body of a frail woman’s.
He shook his head and put down his work, maybe going to the gym would help him clear his thoughts. He left the lab as it was since only he and Viktor really visited any longer. He made his way down to the gym to pump iron and forget about it, but nothing helped. He still wondered and worried about Viktor, was he okay? Was he eating enough? Was he sick? Covered in a slick sweat he ended his workouts for the day and went to clean up, Viktor still on his mind. He decided it would be best if he went to visit him again. If he was sick maybe he could make something for him, or acquire some medicine to help.He hoped he’d even be welcomed.
All the way there his thoughts were in the clouds, wondering if things would be okay. He finally stopped in front of the familiar apartment door, this time keyless. He stood there for a moment wondering if this was the right thing to do. The last time he’d entered he’d found himself invading Viktor’s privacy, though this time he would be announced at least. He took one final sigh before knocking on the door.
Viktor, who had been deep in thought, jumped when he heard the sound. He’d been sitting at a table in the livingroom working on some schematics trying to make sense of them, his coffee long gone cold next to him.
“Hello? Who is it?” He called out without getting up from the table.
“It’s Jayce” came the reply.
Viktor’s body stiffened. It had been a couple of days now and he was hiding away in shame. He wasn’t sure he could see him again.
“I just wanted to see if you’re okay, you are okay right?”, came his voice through the door again.
Viktor grabbed his cane and got up from the table, slowly hobbling over to the door before opening it despite his stomach churning. He looked up at the other man, and saw genuine concern in his face, which stopped him from snapping at him.
“I’m fine. Is that all you came to see?”
“Yeah well, you haven’t been coming to the lab, so I was worried– what do you mean is that all I came to see?”, an eyebrow raised
Viktor cleared his throat, his face a little flushed, he didn’t mean to ask like that. “Nevermind that. I’m fine, I’ve just been working from home on something private”
“Oh I see. Uhm…well is there anything I can do to help?”
“Private, Jayce”
“Right, sorry”
They stood in the doorway in silence for a little longer, Viktor not knowing what to say to Jayce and Jayce trying to read the man’s mind. What was going on, he wasn’t sick, and he worked on private things in the lab before, it wasn’t such a strange thing to have your own work from time to time.
“Look, I’m sorry I barged in last time, I swear I didn’t see anything”
Viktor stiffened a little more, and looked away from Jayce once more. “Don’t worry about it…..would you like a cup of tea?” He opened the door a little wider for Jayce to come in.
“No thank you, Mother should be waiting for me to come home tonight and I don’t want to keep her waiting, I just thought I would check in on you first”
“....thank you” was all Viktor could muster.
“I’ll see you at the lab later?”
“Yeah…”
Jayce then turned away from the door and Viktor watched as he left. He couldn’t help but admire him from the back. He was relieved that their awkward conversation was over, though it could have been worse, and slowly closed the door, locking it behind him before returning to the table. As he sat back down he realized his heart was pounding in his chest. He recalled Jayce saying he didn’t see anything, and he hoped maybe he didn’t, but he was sure he had to have. At least he didn’t seem to want to talk about it in detail.
—-
When Viktor returned to the lab Jayce was already hard at work and undistracted at it as well. He wasn’t even sure that he saw him coming in but instead of saying something he simply pulled on his goggles and began working on his own thing. It was quiet, almost awkwardly so. It wasn’t until Jayce said something that Viktor finally snapped back to reality. “Huh? Can you repeat what you said?”
“Could you hand me that?” Jayce motioned for a tool on a desk nearby.
“Sure” Viktor replied, getting up and grabbing the tool for him. He handed it over and looked over his shoulder at what he was working on. “Looks complicated, do you require any assistance?”
“That would be fantastic actually, if you look over the schematics we might be able to get this finished today, I think the council will be happy for it”
Viktor moved to his side and looked over the schematics and with a soft “Hmmm” started to set things up for Jayce so that he could continue working, the next thing lined up for him to grab. It went on like this for quite a while until the project was finished, this was how they liked to work. Neither of them even realized how late it was, or how covered in grease they’d become. Once finished they both stepped back from their newest creation to admire it.
“This will be great, I hope they accept it” Jayce spoke, wiping away sweat from his forehead and leaving behind a little bit of grease as he did. Viktor couldn’t help but stifle a laugh.
“What? What is it?”
“It’s nothing”
“No it’s not, you’re laughing, what are you laughing at?”
“You just..here let me” Viktor grabbed a clean rag and wiped away at his forehead getting most of the grease. “You had some grease on the back of your hand and wiped it across your forehead”
“Oh Geez, thanks” he replied, feeling stupid that he’d missed something like that.
“No problem. When do you think you’ll present this?”
“Tomorrow hopefully”
They both looked at the time, it was already tomorrow. They looked back up at each other and laughed, it wasn’t the first or the last time they’d worked all night into the morning. The laughter echoed a little in the lab and Viktor felt like there was a warmth along with it.
“Let's get out of here and get some proper rest then shall we?” Viktor spoke and Jayce nodded in agreement.
Viktor was happy for another day in the lab, the awkwardness faded as they worked and he seemed to forget what he was feeling awkward about in the first place. He and Jayce both left the lab and went their separate ways.
In the morning they returned bright and early, Jayce yawning loudly as Viktor put on a pot of coffee to hopefully kickstart their day. He felt like he’d gotten a good nights rest for once, and so did Jayce, but the warm beverage would still be more than welcomed.
Jayce went straight away to the finished project, admiring it from a slight distance. He was sure the council would approve of it and maybe continue funding their projects, or at least that was the hope. Viktor watched from the little kitchenette in their lab as Jayce stood there, hands on his hips. He had some really nice hips, he caught himself thinking, but quickly shook his head and busied himself with finding some clean mugs.Once the coffee was brewed he poured two cups, one for himself and one for Jayce of course, and brought it over to him.
“Here, careful it’s hot”, he said as he handed Jayce his mug.
“Thank you!” Jayce replied, almost immediately taking a sip of the piping hot beverage. Viktor just watched in amazement at how the other didn’t seem to notice the temperature. He looked down at his own coffee and decided it wasn’t worth trying to do the same and began to softly blow on it. They stood in silence together for a moment before Jayce set his mug down on a nearby surface.
“Well…I should probably ready up for this meeting, they’ll want a demonstration I’m sure”, he spoke suddenly cutting the silence.
“Mmm”, Viktor replied, mid-sip of his coffee and took it as his cue to let the other do his own thing and get on to his own projects. He could hear the other busying himself as he limped away to away to the other side of the lab. He loved that about Jayce, the way he was committed to everything in the laboratory was really commendable. It was an added benefit that he had more social status than he did as well and was willing to attend all sorts of meetings or parties. It wasn’t much Viktor’s style, and he felt Pilover residents all seemed to have their noses up in the air over anyone who wasn’t from there, even if they seemed to be the sweetest of people. So he didn’t often strike up conversation and he’d gotten a reputation as being the quiet of the two scientists.
Jayce finished getting ready and took his project with him as he left, leaving Viktor once more to the silence of their lab.
—-
Hours after, Jayce returned to the lab looking flushed and happy. “guess what?!” He spoke exictedly and a little loudly.
Viktor stopped working and raised his goggles feom his eyes as well as an eyebrow, “what? Im guessing good news?”
“Great news! They loved it!! And they are willing to keep paying us for another 6 months!”
“That is great news indeed! Congratulations Jayce”
“I couldnt have done it without your help” Jayce replied quickly as he started making his way closer to Viktor. “So thank YOU”
Viktor smiled up at him before realizing he was getting a little closer than usual. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, ive just been thinking lately…”
“That IS a big part of our job” Viktor laughed a little but then Jayce put a hand over his.
“S-sorry was that not funny?” Viktor asked, removing his hand from under the others but Jayce didnt move away. “Jay?”
Viktor started to stand when Jayce moved in closer pinning him to the edge of his desk. “Jayce what are you doing?”
“Being honest with myself for once” Jayce finally spoke as he put a hand on Viktors hip, partly steadying the other but mostly just to touch him. Viktor couldnt help but tense up a little bit at the touch.
“What do you mean?” Viktor continued, his cheeks beginning to flush.
“I cant keep playing pretend about how i feel about you Viktor”, Jayce’s grip became a little firmer. “I want you”
“Theres no way we’d work together” Viktor exclaimed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. “Were too different you and i, especially me”
“It doesn’t mean a thing to me if you’re different” Jayce spoke softly to Viktor, his hand cupping his face.
“Youre just saying that” Viktor replied, “ you wouldnt even begin to understand the differences we own”
“Then indulge me”
“Why me?”
“Why not you?” Jayce paused after giving the other some space, “ you’re incredibly handsome and talented not to mention a genius”
Viktors face flushed a little bit, still unable to make eye contact with the other
“Why wont you look at me?” Jayce spoke softly and Viktor glanced back at him. Both of them reddish in the face.
“…Jayce youre drunk-“
“I am not entirely drunk but i have had a few drinks tonight, to celebrate if course” he started backing away from the other but stopped, “can i just..can i kiss you?”
It threw Viktor off. He didnt expect a question like this from Jayce and they sat in silence before Viktor gave a small nod. Jayce split into a wide smile before slowly closing the gap between them, grabbing Viktors chin gently and lifting it as hed still been looking away from him.
The kiss was gentle, and Viktor felt his entire body get hot before melting against the other. After a moment Jayce pulled away, “was that okay?”
All Viktor could do was nod back. He was breathless, and he wanted more. If a kiss was all it took to make up his mind on how he felt about the other then that was it. He leaned up, balancing on his crutch and toes to give Jayce another kiss to which the taller man wrapped his arms around Viktors waist pulling him in. There was a loud thwack as Viktors cane hit the ground but they both ignored it, instead opting to making out instead.
Jayce pushed Viktor up onto the table behind him and Viktor gasped a little before they dove back to each others mouths. A moment later they were both gasping for air and then Jayce did another unexpected action, moving Viktors collar to the side before sucking at his neck.
“Aahhh” Viktor whimpered, he never knew this could feel so nice or how much he wanted it. He could feel his gut tighten with arousal the more the other kissed at him. Jayce took the others whimpers as permission to continue and started to feel the other up a little as well starting at his hips and moving up. It wasnt until hed gotten to Viktors chest that he hesitated, noticing Viktor go a little stiff at the others touch. “Is everything okay?”
“Y-yeah, ah uhm how do i say this”
Jayce paused and looked down at the other waiting for him to speak.
“Jayce im different from you”
“You said that already, but what do you mean?”
Viktor began unbuttoning the top of his shirt just enough for his binder to be shown. Jayce thought this was just another brace however. “Yeah i know you wear things for accessibility”
“No its not- “ he sighed, “its a binder Jayce”
“A binder?”
“For my breasts” Viktor finally spelled it out for him.
Jayce stepped back just a little, taking in the information.
“Wait…does this mean-“
“It means im trans Jayce. Im not a real man..”
“Who said you werent?”
“I- well, most of society”
“Youre just as much a man as i am, regardless of your body. Is this what you meant by differences?”
“That and my disabilities in general” Viktor sighed, but was happy Jayce didnt seem to be grossed out by the new information.
“Disabled or not youre not a broken person, youre perfect” Jayce spoke with confidence.
“Thank you..”
“So does this mean youll go out with me?” Jayce asked, surprising the older man again.
“Can i think about it?” Viktor spoke softly not wanting to upset the other.
Jayce just smiled, nodded and gave a kiss on his forehead
—
[More to come]
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y/n_williams
35M
❤️drewstarkey, halieybieber,sofiarichie, and others
Some things take years to figure out. Some people come into your life, and you just know they’re meant to stay.
They’re lived in every moment, every laugh, and every quiet second between us. From the moment we met, I knew you were going to be someone special. But I never could’ve imagined you’d become everything.
@drewstarkey, You’ve been my best friend, my biggest supporter, and now the love of my life. Through all the chaos of the world, the noise, the fame, and the lights of this crazy industry, you’ve always been my calm. You’ve loved me for who I am, not who the world sees, and that’s something I’ll never take for granted.
We’ve been through so much together—growing up side by side and now growing in love in a way that feels more like destiny than anything else. You’re my laughter in the silence, my comfort in the storm, and the one person I want by my side forever.
So here we are—no more hiding, no more waiting. Just us and this wild, beautiful love we’ve built. I’m proud to call you mine, Drew.
Let’s make the rest of our story even more incredible. ❤️
sofiarichie Finally, Oh my gosh, I have been waiting for this.
y/n_williams now the group can all go on dates together haileybieber yayaya group dates
justinbieber 😏 hey @drewstarkey drewstarkey 😏😏 eliotgrainge yeah, im not using that emoji
madelyncline Couldn’t be happier for you two!! 😭 This is everything I didn’t know I needed to see! 💛
y/n_williams thank you, my friend
user45 I KNEW IT
user56 no you did not
rudeth Wishing you both all the love and happiness. 💛 You deserve the world
maliah_williams I'm so glad that it's him, Jodi, and I have been waiting for this moment!
mommastarkey our babies are perfect for one another
zoëkravitz This is what love should look like. I’m here for all of it 💫❤️
usre65 THIS IS IT. THE LOVE STORY I DIDN’T KNOW I NEEDED TO SEE. Drew and Y/N are the real definition of true love
user7 I’m over here sobbing. 😭 You guys are the most beautiful couple EVER!! Cheers to you!
drewstarkey How did I get so lucky? . You’ve been my best friend, my everything, and now... the love of my life. I never thought I’d find someone who makes me laugh this hard, calms me down this easily, and knows my heart better than I do. You’re the dream, Y/N. ❤️
y/n_williams stop it drew now im crying
brooke_starkey little Brooke knew what she was doing; she saw the potential big time.
y/n_williams yeah yeah, pat yourself on the back
gigihadid Can’t even handle this. You two were made for each other!! 😭❤️
mackaylastarkey 🥺 my heart
❤️by y/n_williams
y/n_williams love love love you mack
drewstarkey I love you so much, baby, its insane!
y/n_williams love you too, pretty boy.
y/nupdates OMG OMG OMG
drewstarkey little me would be so proud og 25 year old me right now.
drewstarkey
5.9M
❤️by y/n_williams, brooke_starkey, starkeyboy ,and others
Some stories are written in the stars, and some... are accidents that lead to something so beautiful. This one has been written by both across lifetimes. From many conjoined family trips to late-night talks about everything and nothing, this woman has been my best friend, my heart, and the love of my life.
@y/n_williams, you’ve been the one constant in my world—the calm in the chaos, the laughter in the silence. I never imagined that the little girl who once would cry every time we had to play the mom and dad would one day steal my heart so completely. But here we are—grown, evolving, living a love so deep and so real, I can’t even begin to explain it.
To the world, you’re a supermodel, a force. To me, you’re everything. The beauty inside and out, the fierce soul who knows me better than anyone, and the woman I want to spend every moment with for the rest of my life. Who would have thought me falling on you at the beach would lead us here. I love you forever and a day, beautiful! You truly are the best thing that has evr been mine!
sofiarichie hurt her. I hurt you😁. Cute post, by the way!!
drewstarkey thanks…….
y/n_willimas Sofia stop threatening him
sofiarichie no I don’t think I will
user69 stop She is so funny
madelyncline SO happy for you both. The world doesn’t deserve the amount of love and joy y’all are about to share!! ❤️"
chasestokes Bro, I’m so proud of you!! You’ve always been the realest, and now you’ve got the best of the best by your side.
rudeth Honestly, I’ve never seen you this happy, and I’m SO stoked for you two! Real love right here. 💯
jonathandavisofficial proud of you brother. You found someone who loves you, how you deserve to be loved, and more!!
drewstarkey thanks, man!!
user66 YESSSS! This is everything. Drew and Y/N, y’all are perfect together. Sending all the love your way!
y/n_williams THERE WAS NO NEED TO BRING UP HOW I USED TO CRY ABOUT HAVING TO BE YOUR FAKE WIFE.
drewstarkey there really was
brooke_starkey im weak
mackaylastarkey LOVE THIS. So happy for you two! You both deserve all the good things life has to offer. ❤️
❤️by drewstarkey
y/n_wiliams i seriously love you so much
user15 God, i have seen what you have done to others and would like to know when my turn is ?
y/n_williams Well, you’ve got me crying now 😭💛 I’ve never known a love like this. You’re my best friend, my home, and the person I want by my side forever. We’ve come a long way from the days of playgrounds and bad haircuts, and I wouldn’t change a single thing. I’m so proud of everything we’ve built, Drew—and I can’t wait to keep building it with you. You’re my heart, my whole world, and I love you more than you’ll ever know. ❤️
#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#supermodel!reader#abbie's corner#haliey beiber#sofia richie#childhood friends#drew starkey fluff#drew starkey imagine#supermodel!y/n#drew starkey smau#drew starkey x supermodel! reader#Spotify
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it has to be tough trying to navigate how to interact with your peers when so many of them thought you were some awful person but were still fake nice to your face :(
yeah. i think we talk a lot about how so many ccs have treated dteam but like the actual repercussions are so hard to fully understand :(
#cq.asks#i won’t post more about this just bc we rlly need to move on but#it’s one of those things that hit me the hardest during everything#i can’t even begin to imagine how that would feel#does this need a gituation tag#gituation#just in case
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*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*
Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.
You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah
I’m doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts I’m spinning in the blender
…..I made the moodboard….
#chapter 37#of 120 or something#I must be like 90k words in haha#large word count is not an intimidation. It’s an invitation haha#I love the fics that I can’t read in just one hour:)#I gotta say I don’t enjoy the concept of making robots into organic life#it’s just my preference#seeing them as humans or animals or whatever feels so fucking wrong#the concept itself drives me off#like. Strongly#But at the same time. This fic isn’t about them being ‘haha cute organics’#it’s ‘oh god. I was turned into something I’m not’#instead of teeheee they’re fluffy#it’s please free me from this fucking nightmare. please let me be myself again.#idk how to explain. I resonate I guess#it often feels very disturbing but the characters are also disturbed#So now I’m kind of stuck reading this fic because I just can’t stop lol#just politely skipping the parts that make me too uncomfortable#also#the body horror is….damn. Impressive. I didn’t expect to read about grotesque fleshy creature turning itself inside out#it’s not even aesthetic or symbolic#it literally looks like a fucking nightmare. Which is impressive also.#the flesh is g r o s s#the beginning got me struggling and skipping#but the intermission is currently ruining my sleep schedule#oh fuck….I usually send my posts to the authors of the fics I read…..but I feel like I might offend the author of Ninth if do this……..#there’s a tiny chance they’re following me….if it’s true then I wanna tell I’m sorry pls don’t take this seriously#your fic got me waay out of my comfort zone#huge points for writing Ratchet. Drift in this fic is…the grossest fucking thing I could probably imagine but Ratchet doesn’t even hesitate#he helps him and he cares for him. Which is…..imma be real my first instinct would be to set Drift on fire to end his misery
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sleepy bc I accidentally stayed up late monologuing to myself about how free! really should have ended for the nth time 🥴
#imagine haru saying what he said to rin at the end of fs1 right. the ‘you always run away’ or w/e#and he’s angry but also upset w himself for saying it when he doesn’t REALLY mean it#and now he’s afraid he’s going to hurt his other friends so he secluded himself and throws himself into swimming#but his body is still shutting down! and albert is the one to say something#he says how he admired haru’s swimming. how the water favored him. but now something’s different. something’s wrong#and he says something that gets haru to listen. maybe haru’s a little stubborn and is like ‘stay out of this’ but it still gets#under his skin. so either he just goes to iwatobi or azuma tells him to#and he wanders around reliving memories. but they’re sort of staled now. he feels like he has no emotions. it’s like the start of s1 again#then he goes to their time capsule. and he digs it up. and inside are all their letters and the footage we saw of all his friends at the#beginning of fs1 on a dvd or thumb drive or smthn#he takes it home to his empty iwatobi house and plays it#at this point he is thinking about quitting. but then HE would be the one running away. and that fight with rin stings even more#and he doesn’t want to let his friends down. not when almost all of them are swimming Because of him#he’s so scared they’ll hate him or br angry. he wants to quit but he feels like he can’t bc who is he without swimming?#but then he watches the videos. and it mentions swimming sure. but he realizes all of his friends love him for HIM#and he can go back to tokyo and tell them everything he’s been thinking. about how he’s gonna quit. bc he just can’t do it#and of course they all support it. makoto does right out the gate. as does nagisa. rei cries a little bit he’d rather haru be happy#very similar to his choice in s1. he’s sad he can’t swim with haru. but he understood that the friendship comes first#and rin is maybe pissed. but you know he can’t be pissed for long. and he apologizes for putting haru on a pedestal#and then haru’s like well… I have to swim one final relay. so they sneak in and explain to the teammates at the last second and swap places#(none of that talking to the coach shit. I want them to commit crimes like they did in s1)#and they don’t care about winning they don’t care what the results are. they just want to see one final sight. share one final swim together#and it makes haru strong. but he’s accepted that competitive swimming isn’t for him. and he quits happily#maybe becomes a coach of sorts alongside makoto#anyway. stayed up late thinking abt it and now I’m in bed late writing it out#I did Not mean to do it it just Possesses me#i say things
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I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.
I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:
the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and
the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.
Okay. Point 1. The frog-boiling.
Let me put this in perspective for you. There was already a meme about how the characters in “Saki” don’t wear underwear when I was in middle school. I am thirty now. Okay? And it’s still going.
In the time since, this has stopped being a joke. It is now indisputable canon. This is not because anyone outright says it at any point. It’s because the underwear ran out of places to hide. I’m obsessed with this thought: somewhere in the over 20 volumes of “Saki”, there is a panel in which underwear was objectively deconfirmed. And it would be so hard to figure out where that panel actually is. Maybe the artist didn’t even realize it when she drew it! The frog? Boiling!!
And of course there is also the breast expansion. I don’t know how to put a spin on this. They are just expanding. Like, this happens a lot with artists: you define a character as being, in your mind, “the one with the big boobs”, and over the years you emphasize that trait further and further so that the signal doesn’t get lost in the noise. It’s just that normally—in like a wildly popular manga series about mahjong published by literally Square Enix, for example—normally there would be a point at which the boobs stopped getting bigger. Like, an editor would step in or something. Or you would get to the point where you cannot draw the character in the same panel as her mahjong tiles without her breasts spilling over the tiles, and you’d go, “Well, this is now untenable.”
That did not happen. There is no ceiling. The frog is soup.
Point 2. The complete and utter mundanity of all of this.
It’s like this, okay: there’s no shortage of trashy ecchi manga out there. There’s a million other comics doing wildly bawdier things with wildly more improbable bishoujos.
The vibe with “Saki” is different.
It’s hard to explain this, but it feels like the world of the comic is fundamentally uninterested in the fanservice happening on the page. I cannot describe it as “leering”, because I cannot conceive of a person in the story from whose point of view one would leer. I think the artist is probably into it—I can’t imagine anyone is making her do this—but “Saki” the comic has no opinion on the matter.
There are essentially no male characters in “Saki”. Like, there was one guy? Kind of? At the very beginning? But he is gone now. They put him back in the toybox. He does not exist. It appears to be some level of canonical that in the world of “Saki”, almost all humans are women. Those women are sometimes romantically into each other. According to comments the artist has made on Twitter (which I cannot source), they have lesbian baby technology, so it’s no problem. It’s so much not a problem that the story is about mahjong, instead of any of that.
So, like, the fiction here appears to be this: this is the, like, meta-narrative of the fanservice of “Saki”, right: it’s just normal that they don’t wear underwear and their boobs are arbitrarily big. It’s been normal. It was normal before the story of the manga began. It’s just how things are. Nobody bats an eye about it, and if they do, it’s in sort of a lesbian kind of way so like what’s the problem, we love lesbians here. This is literally normal for girls.
The fanservice simply diffuses into this all-encompassing aura of disembodied, ambient sluttiness. The framing of the panels demands you acknowledge it, and the story demands you already be over it, because it’s mahjong time now, and we’re playing mahjong.
Do you get??? why I’m so fascinated??? Are you not a little enraptured???
Anyway, I have no idea how to end this weird post. I guess the conclusion is that women stay winning????
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Practice [L.H]
pairing: Logan Howlett x reader
summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.
warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting, jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W
word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)
“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.
“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.
Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”
“Met him online.”
“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”
You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.
“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”
You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”
“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”
He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”
Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.
“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.
“Help you how?” He asks, smug.
It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.
“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”
“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.
“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.
“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”
Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”
You nod quickly, “For practice.”
“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.
A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.
Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.
“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?
“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.
“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”
“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.
“Oh,” you say.
“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.
Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”
“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.
He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.
You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”
“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head.
Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides.
You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.
With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.
“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.
Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.
You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.
“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.
“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.
“What now?” You ask.
Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.
Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”
You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.
“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.
You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.
“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.
Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.
His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away.
He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him.
“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”
“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big.
“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”
His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand.
Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist.
You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”
He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life.
You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.
Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.
The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so.
“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.
“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.
Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.
You’re wondering how much long–
“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.
You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.
Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.
He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.
Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.
“Spit.”
“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.
“Really?”
You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.
He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.
You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.
“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”
What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”
“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”
All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.
“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”
You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.
He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.
“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.
“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.
“Mhmm.”
He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.
Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close.
You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly.
“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself.
He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck.
You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders.
Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue.
It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.
Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.
He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.
With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.
“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.
He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”
You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”
Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”
You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.
Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.
“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.
Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”
You grin, “It was your plan.”
Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.
“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.
“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”
Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.
You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”
The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.
-
P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut#james logan howlett#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#fem!reader#selfcarecap
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I… feel… like… a… little… zombie!!!
#get ready for a vent… oh boy this will be fun to look back on#i am so tired of being the one who cares more or at all#it is a particular hell to get attached to someone who is incredibly emotionally unavailable#especially when said person made it seem like they were romantic and emotionally available in the beginning#and then u felt crazy for questioning them when all long they never planned on actually wanting anything with you#I have wasted so much time but can’t stop somehow#I just don’t care about other people the way I do for this person whyyyyyyyyy did this have to be how it was#he cares so much about his friends and work and family and just does not feel the way I do#I keep hoping he does deep down but I’m afraid to say it just doesn’t seem like it anymore#who invites someone over then tells them right before bed they have to leave at 9 or 9:30 for breakfast with their friends#after I took the freezing ass metro for him!! and he only invited me last minute cause he decided not to go out with friends cause the cold#like what on earth how did I end up in this????? this is not how it’s supposed to be#and I feel a little sorry for him that he can’t let himself experience something intimate and great he is emotionally shallow#i never would’ve imagined this is how it would be…#I never ever vent ever but I just can’t stop talking about it or this sadness will eat me from inside#I even told my mom!!!#im sick of this…#maybe one day he will regret it but maybe not he is so apathetic it’s so frustrating#it just hurts so much to see that someone you thought you were close to does not value you the same way or appreciate you very much#he meant/means so much to me and now I see I just don’t mean much to him#he doesn’t want to commit to anything and said I’m his friend after leading me on for a LONG time#i turned down other people for him cause he just kept making it sound like once __ happened he’d be ready for a relationship#i was so hopeful :(
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can we get Duchess reader yearning for a baby of her own 🥺 imagine there was a Ball in the neighboring kingdom and Duchess!Reader and Duke!Price was invited, celebrating the birth of the Kingdom’s new heir, a baby boy on her fellow Duchess’s arms.
And reader coos at the baby while masking the deep ache in her heart thinking that it’ll be so impossible to have a baby with her husband due to him and his lovers 😢
cue to Duchess!Reader having a heavy heart through out the entire event and even the days after that, until one of our boys asks her what wrong.
(And John having to hold Johnny back bc that nasty dog has been waiting to get his paws on her since forever)
Oh my god yes??? Anon i could smooch your brain right now yes??? This is so good i love it. Sorry for the abrupt ending though, had no idea how to finish it off 😔
Original Post
“Such an adorable little one,” you coo softly, the newborn held delicately and carefully in your arms, swaddled in the baby blue blankets you and John had bought among your other gifts for your fellow Duke and Duchess. “He looks so much like you, I’m in awe.”
Your friend laughs lightly, sipping on her drink. With a soft sigh, she leans closer towards you. The party is in full swing, so many other nobles mingling and networking, but thankfully you and your friend have your own little corner for now and everyone has already congratulated her and her husband.
“So,” she begins, her eyes flickering towards where both of you two’s husbands are speaking. The smiles on their faces are clearly happy, though you aren’t surprised; John had mentioned that he’s already friends with the Duke during the carriage ride. “So. What about you and Duke Price, hm? Any surprises we should prepare for?”
Ah. You had been dreading this.
You sigh, shaking your head. Though the smile returns as you gaze at the napping baby, so small and precious in your arms. With you friend’s permission, you gently kiss his tiny little fists. “Not at all. We are happy as we are.”
And it’s not as if you are lying by any means, oh no. You are happy. Life as Duchess was far, far much better than you had expected it’d be, a lot less restrictive than you had prepared for it to be.
But…
You can’t lie to yourself. You’ve been feeling a sense of discontent from the very second you stepped into the gala venue. Perhaps for even longer, though it hadn’t been especially felt until this moment. Not until you held this baby in your arms.
You want a baby, too, you had realized. Motherhood. A child all yours, calling you momma and toddling into your arms. You had been unable to stop yourself from feeling the little bud of jealousy towards your friend, because you knew you’d likely never experience such a thing due to your unique situation.
John has his own partners whom he loves. You weren’t among that list, and you didn’t particularly enjoy the idea of having sex with another man with the potential risk of your parents, or anyone else, asking for a paternity test because you know someone would ask. Your mother, probably; she was always warning you not to whore yourself out, and your father didn’t even need to say anything-
“My dear?”
John’s concerned voice pulls you out of your thoughts, his hand gentle on your elbow, and it’s only then you realize you had been staring down at the baby with such sadness, so not befitting of such a beautiful gala. So you shake your head, clearing your thoughts, and turn to him and your friend's husband.
When the baby squirms, you coo softly and hand him back to your friends, gentle and careful. That's when you turn to John, giving him a simple smile. "Yes, Your Grace?"
The worry remains on his face, less visible however, and his eyes look over you carefully. Your friends are too busy with their son and showing him off to care about what you two are saying in the corner he’s led you to. "Are you alright?”
As if you’d ever tell him what the issue is. You don’t want to make John feel pressured into this, of all things. You’d rather be divorced than do so, and that should speak volumes on its own.
It’s a silly want, anyways. You have everything you could possible need right now, married and stable. You aren’t about to ruin it with your own two hands.
So you nod your head, and brush away all thoughts of a little baby cradled in your arms. “Yes, I am. I was just lost in thought. Shall we return to the party?”
John observes you for a few seconds more, and then he sighs and nods. “Very well. Would you do me the honor of this dance, my dear Duchess?”
Between the dazzling lights and John’s arms, you can almost forget the lingering desire.
But over the next few days after the gala, it becomes clear to John- to all your the men that something is terribly bothering you. There is a lingering sadness around you so profound even your maids have sensed it, wondering if perhaps you and the Duke have finally had your first fight… but he looks even more more worried and confused than them. You weren’t mad at anyone, that much he could tell, but he didn’t understand the heartache plaguing you.
“…are you sick, my lady?” Kyle asks you one day, placing down a tray of fresh desserts. Your favorites, all made by Johnny himself, yet you barely flick a look towards it.
“Not at all. Thank you, Kyle, but I’m afraid I can’t eat anything at the moment.” Your reply is soft, patient, as it always is, but the furrow in your brows remain and your frown deepens. Kyle hates it. He hates it so, so much. You’ve even stopped taking your usual break-walks, staying inside your room and asking for nothing in particular.
“My lady,” he presses on, voice softer. Comes to stand close to you, and holds his elbow out. “Maybe a walk, then? You look tired. Some sun might do you good- or a picnic? I can pack the desserts and-”
You avoid his eyes and look away, shaking your head. “Thank you, but my answer’s the same, Kyle. I’d just… like to be left alone, please. Could I trouble you to also inform John I won’t be joining him for dinner tonight?”
You are simply glad you managed to hide the little paper you’d been writing on before he came in. Baby names, for the babies you’d never have. It certainly didn’t help make your mood better, but you couldn’t help yourself. Looking at John, or any of them, also made you feel guilty anew.
“…not a problem, my lady. I’ll leave the desserts here for you just in case.”
Several days later, it’s Johnny who comes to you. You are alone in the conservatory, trying hard to get over this stupid, lingering feeling. It’s silly, you know it is, but… ugh.
Johnny says nothing even when you call his name out with a questioning tone, and much to your shock, he kneels down to take your hands in his. It’s so wholly inappropriate, and you look around in fear of anyone seeing.
“No one’s around, m’lady,” Johnny shakes his head, not letting your hands go yet.
“Johnny-“
“No one’s around.” He repeats, firmly, and his eyes gaze at you. “M’lady. Have we made ye angry? Has anyone made you upset? Is my food not to your liking?”
“Johnny…” you sigh, shaking your head. Inwardly, you scold yourself for bothering everyone like this. This should have been your issue alone to solve and hide. “No, no. Nothing like that. I just need some time alone, in general.”
“But why-“
“No particular reason.” You quickly cut him off, gently pulling your hands away. “Please, Johnny. I’ll get better soon, promise. But I just… need time.”
But the desire, the longing, still remains. You can’t even confide in anyone, so you also feel painfully lonely on top of everything else. John is still searching, still trying to find what or who’s made you like this, but not even your closest maids are of help.
Still, while you wished to wallow your misery away in your rooms and office, you didn’t have much choice when you’d received an invitation to the opera troupe funded by the Price duchy; making an appearance was a must, and unfortunately John had a very important meeting that day so Simon is the one to accompany you.
“You’ve been sad lately.” Simon doesn’t beat around the bush, all the lights focused on the stage so you are both draped in shadows, hidden from sight.
You turn to him, a refusal on your lips already-
“No.” He shakes his head. “You aren’t just tired, Duchess. You are sad. Everyone can see it, and it’s making us worried. All of us.” He adds, not letting you latch onto your usual excuse. Performance ignored, his entire attention is on you.
And you are just- too tired. Ashamed of yourself, you sigh.
“It’s awful of me…” your whisper, bottom lip quivering. “I-… I want a baby, Simon.” You admit, so softly and quietly you don’t look at his reaction to see if he’d even heard you in the first place. You shouldn’t be telling him of all people your issues, but- you can’t help yourself. “A child. I want to experience motherhood, but- I don’t, I refuse to put such a burden on John, or get in the way between all of you again-“
You ramble on, not meeting his eyes. Your hands are tembling around the mask you’d taken off, holding it in your lap.
Simon?
Simon can’t take his eyes off your stomach. You. You, pregnant; swollen and glowing with a child. Maybe children, even. Their children. His. He can’t believe this is what has had you so upset for so long; did you think they- John- would say no to you?
“Darling, ” The nickname slips out; he couldn’t help himself. He is glad the no one is paying attention to them, in the higher rows. Simon laces your pinkies together, raising your hand to kiss your knuckles, silencing your worried rambling. “Darling. Let us return home. Staying here isn’t doing you any good. Tonight, I want you to let Kyle spoil you with a warm bath, and for you to eat and then sleep. Rest. Tomorrow, we’ll speak. I’ll inform the troupe leader you weren’t feeling too well.”
“I- I… speak about what? What?”
Simon simply ushers you out, to the awaiting carriage. He doesn’t answer any of your questions, even when you pout and the it makes your lipstick glisten to prettily, though if you can feel that his hands are inappropriately tight around your waist, you simply blame it on your tightened corset.
At home, you are still confused. Simon is acting off, staring at you with a look that makes you all flustered, but you don’t protest when Kyle gently leads you away.
You’ll get your answers tomorrow, you are sure. But in the meantime…
“She wants a baby, John,” Simon groans, repeating the words again. His jacket is thrown off to the side, sleeves rolled up his elbows. Even from here, he can see how John eyes them appreciatively. “A baby, John. Seeing her pregnant-“
Another groan, but the one comes from between John’s thighs. Johnny, hands tied behind his back with Simon’s belt because the second he found out what the issue he was so, so ready to go and beg you to let him fix it. A bairn is what you want, a bairn is what he’ll give you- chunky, adorable, and hopefully looking like you.
John had to hold him back, though. He wants nothing more than to do the same, kiss you breathless and promise he’ll give you as many as you want, but he also knows you need a clear, rested head before he speaks with you.
The thought of seeing your pregnant, though, has his fist tightening in Johnny’s hair.
“I know. Fuck, I know, Si. Tomorrow, I’ll speak to her.”
#cod x reader#cod#cod x you#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#tf 141 x you#cod imagines#john price x reader#noona.asks#noona.writes#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#soap x reader#ghost x reader#poly!141 x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz x reader#ghost x you#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#call of duty x reader#poly 141#simon ghost riley x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle gaz x you#john price x you#john price imagine#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley imagines
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Dilf Toji fucks you nice and slow when you’re done putting Megumi down for bed. He wants to thank you for being so good to him and his son. As a single dad it gets hard so when you came into the picture offering your services it was hard to deny such a genuine offer. You’re so good to Megumi, gentle, kind and patient. Toji can’t help the growing bulge in his pants when he sees you being such a strong mother figure. He has to show you his gratitude. The best way he can do that is by having you in a mating press so he can fuck you nice and deep.
“You like that?” his voice is a soft hum.
You feel dizzy. His cock feels so deep. He’s stretching you out more than ever before. You call out his name in a soft whimper.
“Yeah? I’m right here doll don't worry I’m not going anywhere” he groans.
Toji’s obsessed with the way you look taking his cock. Your hole looks so perfect clenching, barely able to fit all of him. You look so full, Toji can’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum drooling out of you. He has to see it. He’s determined to fuck you full of his cum. His cock plunges in and out of you creating a pattern. Your moans fall past your lips making a tune Toji never wants to forget.
“That’s it, good girl, say my name” you sound so pretty to him. “Tell me who fucks you this good, say it , tell me no one can make you shake like this, no one can fill this pussy up the way i can”
He’s never felt himself lose control like this before. There’s something about you, something that leaves him desperate for more. He craves you, desires you every waking second. The way your lips part letting pleads and moans drip off your tongue has him losing his mind. He can’t get enough of you. He knows he should be quiet but the way your cunt feels squeezing him so tight he thinks he just might lose his mind. “That feel good baby? Yeah I know” he coos “I’m gonna fuck you so full” his pace is picking up speed.
His mind is practically blank thinking of how he wants to fill you to the brim with his cum. No that’s not enough he needs to give you every last drop he has.
“You need my cum don’t you” he’s desperate to hear you say it. He’s practically begging to hear you asking for his cum. Tell him how much you want his babies. He can make you a mommy. Don’t you want him to make you a mommy?
“Our baby is gonna be so beautiful” he whispers. He isn’t sure if you can hear him but he doesn’t mind as long as you’re still losing your mind calling out his name.
“That’s right” he growls “Say my name while I fuck a baby into you”
His hand push your thighs further down so he can reach deeper. The way he drags his cock past you slick walls has you shaking. Your words come out slurred.
“It’s too big” you whine as he goes deeper
“No no you can take it.” he bites he lips continuing his long deep strokes. He knows you can take it. Your eyes roll back when he begins grinding his hips into you. He knows he’s hit the spot he’s been searching for.
“There she is” he chuckles.
You can barely contain the moans now. Your body is shaking uncontrollably.
“Please” you gasp “S-slow down, I’m gonna make a mess” you cry.
Toji loves the sound of that. He thrust pick up speed, fucking into you even harder.
“That’s it, just like that, make a mess on my cock.”
He’s desperately chasing after his own orgasm. He wants to cum with you. His thrust are sloppy. He’s moaning your name pleading for you to cum for him.
“Cum-fuck Now” he demands.
You can’t help the juices the splatter against his abs as he fucks his load into you. The two of you are a moaning mess. You ramble incoherent words paired with his name. His eyes are glued on the sticky mess between the two of you. The squelching sounds of his cock fucking his cum back in fill the room.
“What a pretty sight this is. I hope it’s a girl” he moans “She’ll have your eyes”
You can barely give him a reply to focused on the way his cock is still plunging in and out.
“It’s too much” you slur.
“No baby it’s not enough” he groans “I gotta make sure this tummy is full of my cum. One more just one more okay”
Toji has plans on fucking way more than just one more load into you. He has to fuck you full until he’s sure of it you’ll be the one carrying Megumi’s little sister.
#toji smut#jjk toji#jujutsu toji#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x you#dilf toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x y/n#toji headcanons#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen drabble#jujutsu kaisen x reader
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getting baby trapped by 30s art……… i m unwell. after a messy divorce with tashi he found you, his kinder, softer, altogether more human younger girlfriend, and he can’t get enough. part of him craves tashis authority, but the other part of him relishes in being more than someone, older and stronger and wiser. he loves the way you make him feel, loves the way you dote on him and listen to him and take him in his entirety. loves the way you don’t play fucking tennis, you talk about other things, care about other things, fuck about other things. loves the way you lay down on your back for him and do as he says, even when he commands you in his soft, kind way. loves the way your eyes bead with tears as he pounds your tight young cunt and stares into your blistering face. he loves to stretch you open on his long cock and use you, use you for his pleasure until you cream and whimper, eat his seed from your sore, spasming cunt. he could fuck you however he wanted, and you adored him for it. in all his years he had never had so much sexual freedom, never been as totally and utterly fufilled. he loves how you thank him, for everything. with the newest dior hanging from your arm, you thank him. with his cum still on your tongue and bleary eyes, you thank him. he loves so much about you he’s starting to think he loves you. he loves you. you’re everything he needs after all that transpired with tashi, he needs someone loving and open. he wants you forever. but you’re so young. you could change, it could all go away so quickly. he needs a way to keep you, to make sure you always look at him with stars in your eyes, make sure you need him as much as he needs you. so slowly, he begins hiding your birth control. not very well, if you really wanted to find it you would have. but you didn’t. and you won’t.
“art,” you sigh as your wonderful boyfriend kisses your neck. you lay on his white sofa together, legs interlocked, pressing into every part of each other.
“art,” you sigh again, his hands palming your breast over your thin cami,”art, i forgot to take my pill. i couldn’t find my pill.”
“hmm,” he moans into your neck, grinding his hips into your thigh.
“art we can’t.”
“i want you.”
you giggle, and let him push away your top, and take your soft nipple into his mouth until it hardened, and deep in your core you felt a furling, peeling pleasure.
“i’m ovulating,” you breathe,”im gonna get pregnant.”
he groans, rock hard dick straining against his shorts, against your supple thigh. his hands roam over your torso and with kitten licks he flicks your nipple. you expel a soft breath, fingers carding through the blonde, tousled hair you suggested he grew out. you were making him young again.
“i want you. i’ll get a condom in a second.”
he’s lying. hes a liar and a bad bad man and he knows it. but he can’t care. you mewl once more about ovulating, but your fingers comb through his hair, and your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut as he sucks and licks and paws at your tits, humping your thigh with his achingly hard cock.
“i’m… art… pregnant…” you whine half heartedly, but it only makes him sigh deeper, and he imagines the day that you’ll tell him that in complete sentences. would you be teary eyed? would you need convincing? or would you give yourself to him like he felt you would? only time would tell.
“shhhh.”
you twitched, spine arching and pushing yourself further into his mouth.
“i’m gonna grab a condom any second,” he murmured, “i want you now.”
“you have me now.”
he moves up your body and presses his lips to yours, large hand ghosting your jaw. you close your lips against each others, and open again to touch lip to tongue and tongue to tooth, to taste and to breathe each other. he tastes like sweet nothing, like air and cleanliness and summer. you taste like honey to him. your fingers tuck his hair behind his peach fuzzed ear delicately, and you breathe against each others upper lip. his nose mushes against yours and he flicks his tongue at your gums and lips. it deepens, and he toes the line between lavishing you in affection and trying to eat you lips first. it’s hungry and wet, and you forget where his mouth begins and yours ends, all becoming blurred in the spit and the heat of it.
he pulls away, with a spit string connecting your two puffy lips. his eyes twinkle in the dim light that can reach them in your tight embrace.
“why don’t you take off your panties?”
and he leant away, the warmth of his body leaving you burning in its absence. he sat, perched, watching you from above. he looked down his nose at you with a smile, so genuine and yet so condescending. so soft and nurturing, like you needed to be guided and taken care of. that him seeing you naked and feeling your insides and making you stupid and small was what you needed, was how he had to take care of you. it was times like this that you thought about the age difference, when he made you so aware that he could make you want to do anything, anything if it was just to please him. a special ability only he had over you, and if he has his way you would feel it forever. you scramble to be more upright, to rest on your elbows and lift your hips far enough that your reaching fingers could pull down your cotton panties. you writhed beneath him to reveal yourself, nipples peaking from your cami as he watched you fully clothed, in his white shirt and loose pyjama shorts. his hair was ruffled, this way and that, and he looked more collected than he ever had.
shed of your tiny covering, the orange glow of the living room light reflecting off the wetness that was smeared to your inner thigh. from under your lashes u stare up at him, the way his shirt clings involuntarily to the tightness of his core and to his broad shoulders, the way his blonde eyelashes flutter at the sight of your thighs, your hips, your tits, all the parts of you that spill over with softness. your lips part slightly, and in silence you forget what he wants you to forget and beg him to have his way with you.
he was pulled to you once more like a magnet, and you instinctively bent your knees up and spread your legs to receive his torso and hips. he took the bends of your knees in each hand and folded you up so that your ankles hung by his shoulders, bouncing in the air as the sofa gave way for his weight. he knelt above you for just a moment, just a tortuous moment before bending down, sliding his body back so his face could remain above your hot pussy.
with an untroubled drop of the wrist, your legs fell to his shoulders, sprawled on his back. the innermost part of your thighs pressed lightly to his ear, and your heels rested lightly on his back.
with his head situated mere inches from your hot throbbing hole, he took the opportunity to take his time. while he had you in the palm of his hand he made you suffer for it, kissing the tender flesh that shined with the mess he had made for you.
every touch was torture, and he knew what he was doing. his eyes never left your face, the ghost of a smile across his lips whenever they were not eclipsed by the fat of your thighs. your eyes never left his face either, and you watched him breathlessly. he licks a stripe of skin against the grain of your leg hair, and you make a sound like you’re crying.
“oh,” you whisper, “please.”
he hums, laughing. the air from his nose hits your folds and you twitch.
“ok,” he’s soft, controlled, serene.
lips parted, he leans forward into your core, not for one second breaking eye contact with you as he takes your clit into his wet mouth. his pink tongue lathes it, up and down and up and down.
his fingers make sharp indents in your thigh to stop your wriggling, and he forces your ass into his chest. he cranes his neck to eat you deeper, and you cry out, tears beading in your eyes. sucking brutally, he moans into your hole.
“fuck,” you fist the cushion beside you, gathering the fabric and ungathering it,”fuck.”
he eats your pussy like it’s your mouth, makes out with it, makes love to it. he seems to take you in your entirety into his mouth, making you all wet with him, covered and soaked. he reaches up slowly, taking your hand in his, and squeezes it softly. your fingers are tight, paralysed in his hold. the pressure his hand provides gets rid of your compulsive need to squeeze, pacifies you, makes you dumb and limp. you lie back, no longer watching his eyes trained on you, your mouth hanging open and your eyes fluttering closed. you moan involuntarily, unaware at all that you’re alive, that you haven’t died and gone to heaven.
his thumb rubs soft circles on the back of your hand in time with his mouthing, the swirl of his tongue and the rhythmic closing of his mouth. you taste like honey here too, like nectar and sugar and love. your ankles lock together and unlock on his back, and the mere feeling of that sends chills down his whole body.
suddenly he stops. he lays a final fat kiss on your clit, watching as you mewl and your tight, ready hole gushes. he pulls away with your puppy fat legs still hugging side burns and jaw. gently he rises and slips out of your leggy grasp, fingers still interlocked with yours. he wants to kiss you. you are so pathetic when he has his way with you, so passive and pliable. he wants to hurt you because you would let him, but infinitely more and for the exact same reason he wants only to look after you. to make you happy and full and rewarded for your eternal beauty, inside and out.
he wanted to kiss you, and so he did. he leaned over, still completely dressed, and draped his slender, finely chiselled body over yours. it even made him light headed to think about being close to you, to your body, not hardened by the dedication that destroyed him, left soft and unscarred, left without taint. his underbelly of tenderness was your everywhere. you were the rounding to his shoulders, the layer of fat that kept him in warm in winter.
you collided without friction, his wet lips gliding over yours in a dance of want. your legs were still under his control, and as such you were spread beneath him. your knees dangled by his sides, leaving your pussy wide open to leave sloppy kisses on his shorts. you kissed back with the same ferocity. despite your implicit submission, you wanted to consume him as much as he wanted to consume you, if not more. you gave him what he wanted because you wanted to give it to him. wanted to give him everything he would receive.
you gave him your tongue, which he accepted with a grin.
you gave him coiling fingers that grasped the fabric on his back desperately, which he took for momentum. he rolled forward on top of you, deepening the hold his mouth had on yours.
you gave him moans, whimpers from a wavering throat which he took for courage.
“im so hard for you,” you felt the reverberation of his voice in your very core, and you died a sweet death,”i’m gonna put it in.”
“uh huh.”
success. you had forgotten. he laughed, mischievously, and a smile settled into the curves of his face.
all you heard was the snap of elastic, the rustle of fabric and the dulled slap of arts heavy cock against his t-shirt.
all you saw was his pupils grow until his eyes appeared black, like an animal’s, looking at you so directly you felt he saw you deeper than skin, deeper than meat or bone. you felt utterly seen, and utterly loved. you met his gaze pleadingly, eyebrows quirking up in the centre and lips pouting. please, it told him, please my love.
“you want it?” he breathed. pre cum smeared the fat tip, his balls hung low out of his shorts that gathered at his middle thigh. it was so big. long and fat and filling. so big and so pretty, so big and pretty it was all you could do not to cry.
“i want it art,” you replied, voice clipped and cheeks burning,”i want you.”
“yeah?”
he touched your face, from your jaw to the temple. he didn’t even try to kiss you. he just held your face. he was gentle, gentle, gentle as ever. his every action was kind. you love him. you’re in love with him.
“i want you art. i love you.”
and that was that. he was getting you pregnant tonight. someone would have to pry him off of you, because so help him god he would drain himself dry in your hot wet cunt if it was the last thing he ever did.
you squealed as he pushed the entirety of his cock in, bulbous head stretching your cunt wider than any cock had stretched it before. but it slipped in so easily with the outpour of your sticky love. it made a thick squelch, and he groaned so loud, squeezed his eyes shut so hard, you might’ve thought he was being tortured.
“fuck!”
the force of his thrust had caused the thick juices of you arousal to spread around his thick cock where he stretched you out, the pain minimal, familiar and intoxicating.
you throbbed in unison, blood coursing through where you connected. you were so tight and hot, so fucking wet. art struggled, arms bracing either side of your shoulders, to force the rest of himself into you. he also struggled to think, to be a human and not a ploughing, panting, thoughtless dog.
a moan rose through your throat, broke from you involuntarily, came out like the sound of murder. your taut pussy suckled his fat dick with every pulse and quiver. you felt him so deep inside you, and he fought to push deeper. fingers still locked, his crushed your knuckles and your palm.
“oh my fucking god.”
it could’ve been either one of you, because you both meant to say it. this moment of stillness and feeling waited one more second, before art became beast, and drew back his hips so that only his pink tip stayed gripped inside. you felt so soul crushingly empty, until he drove himself back in, and you were brought back to life.
“god,” he pounded any thoughts away, any and all of them, until all you could do was breath and blaspheme, “fucking- christ.”
the buttery, fevered roll of his hips was one he was in no control of. he felt as though he was being moved by some godly force to cram your tight cunt full of him. his jaw hung open, and the hand that didn’t hold yours instead held your shoulder, dwarfing in it in his wide palm. holding onto you for sanity, his eyes opened to take in what he had done to you.
“you’re so tight. perfect. perfect. perfect.”
“i love you.”
“i love you. i love you. please god.”
what was he asking for? was he asking you or god? you would do it for him, regardless. you would do it.
your hand reached into his hair, and tugged hard. a whorish moan left his lips, the rolling of his lower half stuttering as his neck arched up. his knees were spread wide, digging deeply into his sofa. his pelvis moved on its own, smoothly, as if he had reverted to his baser instincts and let years of evolution take its course, nature guiding him to your inevitable impregnation.
you were as he liked you, completely dumb. he was too gone to enjoy it, but on another planet of pleasure entirely. he couldn’t relish in the feeling of control, but he could in the feeling of you, of having you, being loved by and loving you. the suckling heat of you was more than a man could take, and the picture beneath him was no more comprehensible.
your angel lips spread to a glistening tongue, your eyes glassy and dilated, your brow creased, hair mussed. he had to have that too, and so he kissed you once more. the hand on his hair tightened, and he moaned into your mouth.
he pumped your pussy so deep, pre cum was dashed from his oozing tip inside you, heavy balls slapping at your skin. you were so wet you didn’t notice, only felt the heat and the mind numbing ecstasy. the feeling of being pounded like a piece of meat till your tight girl pussy remembered every vein his grown man dick, but kissed like a lover and held like a princess pushed you that much closer, sent you that little bit more over the edge. you needed it. you needed him to cum. to please your daddy.
“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum inside you.”
“fucking do it.”
“yeah?”
“yeah. get me fucking pregnant art.”
that was all he needed. he breathed into your lips and cried out, long steady body shuddering like a leaf. he held you close, pressing his weight on top of your till he could feel the fat of your breasts move around his chest. cum, thick and milky white, shot deep into your cunt, which even now gripped him tighter than ever. so much of it too. his meaty balls tweaked as their contents leaked into where they were always supposed to go.
your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, parting your lips in a silent scream.
his cock had not moved an inch from where it rested fully buried in your pussy. it was wet. it would spill out once he removed himself. it needed to stay inside.
he pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering closed from exhaustion and contentedness. you didn’t even think about what art had just done. you didn’t even realise he had done anything. he was just doing what you needed him to do.
you needed him. forever.
#art donaldson#art donaldson smut#challengers#challengers x reader#art donaldson x reader#challengers smut#30s art donaldson#30s art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader smut#challengers x reader smut#lily rambles
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One Date and a Lifetime: Leona Kingscholar x reader
You have chosen Leona! ; aka the times Leona-i-don't-care Kingscholar puts in effort for you;
1k masterlist ; Prologue
You never thought Leona would actually take this date seriously. Honestly, when you first call him, you half expect him to suggest, "Let's just take a nap or something." Instead, his voice is low and smug, almost purring through the phone.
“Sure. I’ll pick you up later. Be ready.”
And just like that, he hangs up before you can ask for specifics. Typical. You're prepared for some half-hearted effort involving him dragging you to a secluded spot to nap under the stars or something like that. But then, a knock sounds at the door of Ramshackle, and there stands Ruggie with a bouquet.
“These are from Leona,” Ruggie says with a grin that’s two parts mischievous, one part disbelief. “He told me to get the ‘good ones,’ whatever that means. I charged him double, by the way.”
You take the flowers, cheeks warming, trying not to feel too charmed by the fact that the laziest lion you know thought to send you flowers. “Compensation good?”
“Let’s just say I’m eating like royalty tonight.” Ruggie winks before scampering off, probably with plans to milk his housewarden’s generosity for the rest of the week.
When Leona finally arrives at your doorstep, you're stunned into silence. He’s dressed to kill, sharp black slacks, a sleek button-up rolled at the sleeves. Effortlessly regal.
"You..." You blink. "You’re somehow even prettier than usual. How is that fair?"
He grumbles, averting his gaze, but you catch the way his chest puffs out just a little. “Tch. Cut it out.”
“Admit it—you love the compliments,” you tease, looping your arm around his as you step outside.
Leona scoffs but doesn’t pull away. “You gonna keep flattering me all night, or are we leaving?”
And so begins the wildest date you could have imagined: Leona, the notorious nap king, escorting you to a local festival, of all things.
You glance up at him as you stroll through the brightly lit stalls. “I thought you hated crowds.”
“I do,” he replies, but then adds in a gruff mutter, “It’s fine if it’s with you.”
Your heart skips a beat. You're lucky he looks so good because you might’ve fainted on the spot otherwise.
At one of the stalls, you spot a mountain of cotton candy, pastel pink and blue fluff that looks like it’ll melt if you so much as breathe on it. You buy a stick and tear off a piece, holding it up to Leona.
“C’mon, try it.”
He eyes the sugary fluff suspiciously. “That’s just sugar and air.”
“Exactly. Now open up.”
With an exaggerated groan, Leona leans down, and you pop the piece into his mouth. His brow furrows as he chews. “Way too sweet.”
But the next time you hold up another piece, he still eats it, grumbling under his breath about “sugar addicts.” You don’t miss the tiny, fond smile that sneaks onto his face, though.
As you continue through the festival, you spot a prize stall lined with plushies, including a little dragon that immediately catches your eye.
“I need that,” you say, determination sparking.
You try... and fail. Repeatedly. Leona watches your attempts with a smirk, arms crossed like he’s enjoying the show.
When you lose for the fifth time, he sighs dramatically. “Move.”
He steps up to the game and, with one smooth flick of his wrist, nails it on the first try. But instead of the dragon plush, he gives the attendant a lazy grin. “The lion.”
When he hands you the lion plush, you stare at it, confused. “What happened to the dragon?”
“Lions are better,” Leona says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “No debate.”
Despite yourself, you can’t help but smile. It’s ridiculous, but it’s him, and somehow that makes it perfect.
Later, when he takes you to an absurdly expensive restaurant, you raise an eyebrow. “Are you sure about this? It’s... kind of pricey.”
He gives you a flat look. “Order whatever you want. Don’t make me repeat myself.”
So, naturally, you do. And the food is fantastic. Leona leans back in his chair, watching you with a lazy smirk as you happily dig into your meal.
When the date winds down and Leona walks you back to Ramshackle, the night air is cool, and you instinctively rub your arms. Without a word, Leona shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
You clutch onto his arm with a grin, snuggling into the warmth. “Thanks, Leona.”
He shakes his head, amused. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Of course you do.” You laugh, leaning against him. “Oh! Did I tell you what Ace and Deuce did earlier today? You won’t believe it.”
He humors you as you chatter away, recounting the latest shenanigans. “So, Grim decided to ‘supervise,’ which really just meant eating half the snacks while Ace accidentally set off the fire alarm—again.”
Leona snorts softly. “Idiots.”
“Yeah, but they’re my idiots.”
When you finally reach Ramshackle’s doorstep, you turn to face him, a little reluctant for the night to end. On a whim, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Leona freezes for half a second, and when you pull away, his expression is somewhere between surprised and utterly smitten.
“Goodnight, Leona,” you say softly, watching as he blinks down at you like you just shattered every lazy expectation he had about this date.
He clears his throat, looking away, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah... night.”
As he turns to leave, you can’t help but feel like you’ve just unlocked a whole new side of him—and you kind of love it.
You’ve been talking about this video game figure for weeks. Every time you hang out with Leona, he hears about it. Well, "hang out" is a generous term—he naps on your lap or leans against you, and you yap his ear off about how amazing the game is and how this figure is the holy grail of limited merch.
“I’ve been doing everything,” you rant one day, lying next to him in the botanical garden. “Crowley made me do ten extra assignments this week. I even agreed to clean Grim’s litter box without arguments—twice! But it’s worth it. If I get that figure, my life will be complete.”
Leona, who’s half-asleep with his head resting on your shoulder, cracks an eye open. “That good, huh?”
“Yes, that good. There are only ten in the world, Leona. Ten.”
He grunts, shifting a little to get more comfortable. “Better hope your luck’s good, herbivore. Sounds like a lotta effort for a toy.”
“It’s not a toy,” you huff dramatically. “It’s a collectible figure, and it’s the coolest thing in existence. Just wait—when it drops tomorrow, I’m getting it.”
And yet, the universe doesn’t care about your efforts.
You stare at your phone screen in disbelief the next day. The site crashes, the countdown ends, and the figure sells out in 0.2 seconds flat. You refresh. Then refresh again. But it’s gone—snatched from your grasp like a mirage in the desert.
“No... no, no, no.” You sit there, devastated, as the weight of your failure sinks in. After all the work, all the chores, and all the emotional speeches to Leona, you’ve been denied. The limited-edition figure remains forever out of reach.
By the time you see Leona later, your mood is somewhere between tragic despair and begrudging acceptance. You find him lounging in the garden again, his favorite napping spot.
“Didn’t get it, huh?” he asks, his voice carrying that lazy drawl as you flop down beside him.
“Nope,” you sigh, resting your forehead on your knees. “All that work, all that hope... and nothing.”
Without another word, Leona pulls something from behind him and chucks it onto your lap.
You blink. Then blink again.
It’s the figure. The figure. THE limited-edition figure you’ve been pining after for weeks.
“Leona???” you squawk, holding it up like it might vanish into thin air if you let go. “What—how—why—?”
He just shrugs. “Still the second prince, y’know.”
“You—" Your jaw drops. “Did you use royalty status to get me this figure?!”
“Yeah.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he just asked the palace cook to make toast instead of pulling strings for a rare collector’s item.
You gape at him, torn between disbelief and giddiness. “Leona... that’s cheating.”
“So?” He leans back with a satisfied smirk, clearly amused by your reaction. “You wanted it, didn’t you?”
You can’t help it—you burst into laughter, clutching the figure like it’s the greatest treasure ever gifted to you. “You’re impossible.”
Leona tugs you down beside him, trapping you in his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Now quit yappin’ and let me nap.”
Still grinning like a fool, you curl into him, giggling into his hair. “You’re way too good to me, you know that?”
He huffs, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. His hand rests lazily against your back, warm and grounding. “Hmph. Lucky I like you.”
And just like that, he drifts off into sleep, his arms snug around you. And you? You lie there, feeling like the happiest person alive, hugging your figure close while Leona naps against you, his soft breaths the perfect lullaby.
The first sign something is wrong comes when Grim tries waking you up for your usual chaos-filled day.
“Hey, get up, henchhuman! We’ve got things to do!” he says, poking your cheek with one of his fluffy paws. “It’s already late! If Crowley gets mad, I ain’t takin' the fall!”
Normally, you’d groan and roll out of bed—or at least threaten Grim with chores—but today? All you can manage is a weak grunt before you flop back onto your pillow like a defeated pancake.
“Henchhuman?” Grim nudges you again, this time with more urgency. You crack one eye open just long enough to see his ears flatten in concern. “Oi, don’t ignore me—what’s wrong?”
Your head is heavy, and it feels like your bones have melted into jelly. You try to say I think I’m dying, but all that comes out is a sad, congested whimper.
Grim’s eyes widen, and suddenly, he’s a blur of blue fur and panic. “You’re dying!” he yells, as if confirming the worst-case scenario. “Don’t go toward the light, henchhuman! I’ll be right back—stay alive!!”
Before you can reassure him—or at least remind him that people don’t die from mild fevers—Grim is already out the door, paws skidding against the floor like a tiny tornado.
Somewhere across campus, Leona is enjoying a particularly satisfying mid-morning nap in the botanical gardens when an absolute menace of a furball barrels into him.
“HEY, YOU! Lion guy!” Grim shouts, climbing onto Leona's chest. “Get up! Henchhuman’s dying!”
Leona cracks open one bleary eye. “Dying?” he repeats with a skeptical grunt, already half-expecting Grim to be overreacting. “Probably just overslept.”
“I know the difference between sleeping and dying!” Grim shrieks, paws batting at Leona’s face. “They're burning up, can’t even sit up! You gotta do something!”
Leona grumbles under his breath, but he’s on his feet before Grim can push him again. The usual lazy slouch is gone, replaced by swift, purposeful movements.
By the time he strides into your room, Leona has already called his personal doctor, much to Ruggie’s dismay (“Do you know what time it is?! Do I get paid overtime for this??”). Leona doesn’t care. He’s moving fast—like a lion with a mission.
It’s a blur after that. You vaguely register a cool hand against your burning forehead, Leona’s voice a low rumble beside you. The doctor checks your pulse, takes your temperature, and declares it’s just a fever with some exhaustion thrown in. Nothing dangerous, but definitely enough to flatten you.
“Hah.” Leona lets out a short sigh of relief, slumping in the chair beside your bed. “Told ya Grim, not dead.”
“Yeah, well…” Grim’s still pacing at the edge of your bed, tail twitching in frustration. “They looked dead, okay?! How was I supposed to know?”
“You weren’t. That’s why I’m here,” Leona says flatly, though his tone is less irritated than usual.
The next few hours pass in a fog of sleep, soft voices, and the occasional pressure of something cool against your skin. Ruggie swings by every now and then to drop off food, grinning as he deposits soup and medicine like it’s some kind of delivery service.
“Man, if I knew babysitting was part of my job description, I’d have charged extra,” Ruggie teases, setting down a tray.
Leona just rolls his eyes. “Get lost, hyena.”
Despite his usual snark, Leona is surprisingly attentive. He makes sure you drink water, feeds you spoonfuls of soup even when you mumble protests, and keeps an arm draped lazily around you when you shiver. If anyone asks, he’ll say it’s just because you’re annoying and need constant supervision.
When you finally come to, it’s because something warm and heavy is curled against you. You blink a few times, head still foggy, and realize it’s Leona—completely sprawled across the chair next to your bed, but with one hand tightly clasping yours.
You smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the sight of him. Carefully, you nudge closer, nestling against his arm. The movement stirs him awake, his golden eyes blinking down at you groggily.
“You awake now?” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
“Barely,” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me.”
Leona grunts, but the way his thumb brushes over your knuckles is answer enough.
Just as you’re about to fully enjoy the peace, a loud, dramatic voice cuts through the moment.
“Finally!” Grim bursts into the room, leaping onto your bed. “Took you long enough to wake up! I thought I’d have to hire a priest or somethin’!”
You chuckle softly, the sound a little scratchy. “Didn’t know you cared that much.”
“Pfft! As if.” Grim crosses his arms, looking away with a huff. “I just didn’t wanna be stuck with Crowley as my only companion. He’s useless.”
But despite his words, Grim scrambles onto your lap anyway, curling up against your chest with a grumble. “Don’t get sick again, okay? It’s a pain.”
You pet his fur, grinning as you feel him relax. “Okay, okay. No more dying.”
Leona shifts beside you, rolling his eyes. “What, am I invisible?”
“Shh,” you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Just let me enjoy my two favorite cats for a minute.”
Leona huffs, but there’s a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I'm not a cat. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”
You grin back at him, and for once, you don’t need words to say thank you. He knows.
You like to think of yourself as a strong person. Someone who can hold their own in this chaotic, magic-ridden school where everything from magical accidents to actual ghost attacks is a typical Tuesday. You’ve handled your fair share of weird situations and even gotten through them without embarrassing yourself too badly. But… you are still a magicless human. And that’s a fact you can’t change.
So when three tall, muscle-bound Savanaclaw students corner you in a dimly-lit corridor on your way to visit Leona, your heart sinks.
"Where ya headin', little herbivore?" The biggest one grins, flashing sharp teeth that remind you just how much worse your day could get.
“Leona’s been hanging out with you a lot, huh?” another one sneers, blocking your path. “Think that makes you special or something?”
"Maybe they've got some kind of deal with him," the third one suggests, his voice dripping with mockery. "How about you tell us what’s really going on between you two?"
Your stomach twists, but you keep your face neutral. No way are you going to let them see how nervous you are. "How about you back off before you embarrass yourselves?" you say, proud of how steady your voice sounds.
The tallest one leans in, his grin widening. “Look at you, acting all tough. Too bad there’s no magic in that mouth of yours.”
You force yourself to hold your ground, though your fingers twitch toward your pocket. You really don’t want to bother Leona, but… well, desperate times. With a quick, discreet motion, you send a single SOS text.
You: Cornered. Help.
The three of them are still jeering at you when you hear footsteps approaching from behind. Slow, measured, and heavy with the kind of weight that makes everyone in the hallway tense.
"Oi," a familiar, low growl cuts through the noise like a hot knife through butter.
All three of them freeze. You glance over your shoulder—and there he is. Leona Kingscholar.
He stands at the end of the corridor, his usual lazy posture replaced by something much sharper, much more dangerous. His emerald eyes gleam with a warning, and a sly, predatory smile spreads across his face.
"Seems like I showed up just in time." His voice is deceptively calm, almost bored. “What do you think you're doin'?”
The boys shift uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances.
"Just… chatting," one of them stammers, the earlier bravado leaking out of him like air from a punctured balloon.
Leona steps forward, leisurely, as if he’s in no hurry—but there’s something about the way he carries himself that makes the air heavy with tension. His presence fills the space, demanding attention and submission.
"You must be real stupid," Leona drawls, "if you think you can mess with what’s mine."
The tallest boy blanches. “W-We didn’t mean—”
Leona’s grin sharpens, all teeth. "Didn’t mean to what? Annoy me? Make me waste my time on some sad, third-string rejects?"
They flinch, shrinking under the weight of his words. Leona isn’t yelling. He doesn’t have to. His authority is clear—absolute.
One of them mumbles an apology, and the others nod hurriedly, ready to slink away. But Leona’s not done.
“You ever try this again,” he says, his voice dropping into a dangerous purr, “I won’t just kick you out of Savanaclaw. I’ll bury you so deep, nobody’ll even remember your names.”
The boys scatter without another word, practically tripping over each other to escape.
Leona watches them go with a snort, then turns his gaze to you. His sharp expression softens just a fraction, the predatory edge giving way to something lazier—something almost… fond.
“You good?” he asks, as if he didn’t just verbally annihilate three guys on your behalf.
Your heart is racing, but not from fear. No, this is something else entirely. Something far more dangerous. You’re not sure when it happened, but you are completely, utterly smitten.
“Yeah,” you say, trying—and failing—not to sound starstruck.
He raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?” you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.
“Like you’re impressed.”
“Oh, but I am.”
He grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, but you notice the faintest hint of color creeping up his ears. “Tch. Idiot.”
You laugh softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks for showing up, though.”
Leona shrugs like it’s nothing. "I told ya—just call me when you need me."
That does it. You feel yourself practically glowing at the simple promise, the quiet reassurance beneath his words.
You lean toward him, your grin widening. “What if I need you right now?”
He smirks, draping a lazy arm over your shoulders. “Then I guess I’m stuck with you.”
You let yourself melt into his side, the earlier tension gone like a bad dream. The two of you walk off together, his arm comfortably slung over you like it belongs there.
And, in that moment, you’re pretty sure it does.
The assignment in front of you is a nightmare.
You’ve been staring at the same page for what feels like hours, your head throbbing with frustration. You chew the end of your pen, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor. Why did you leave this for the last minute? Why does it feel like every word on the page is written in an ancient, cursed script meant specifically to drain your soul?
Meanwhile, Leona is draped over you like a weighted blanket, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder. You know he’s napping because of the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. This man has zero care in the world.
He’s been napping while you’ve been spiraling. Because of course he is.
You mutter curses under your breath, willing the assignment to finish itself. But the numbers swim in front of your eyes, and your breaths grow shorter, more unsteady. Panic claws at the edges of your mind.
Leona stirs. He shifts just slightly, cracking open one eye to glance at you. “Oi,” he grumbles. “Stop breathin’ like you’re about to pass out.”
You ignore him and grip the pen tighter, heart pounding, trying to push through the stress. That’s the worst part about this assignment—if you don’t finish it, your grades will nosedive, and Crowley will never let you hear the end of it.
Suddenly, Leona's hand slips out from around you and snatches the pen from your grip. "Gimme that."
You blink as he pulls the paper closer.
"Leona, what are you—"
"Shh." He flips through the pages like they personally offended him. His eyes scan the questions with the kind of effortless ease that makes you want to scream in frustration. Without so much as a sigh, he picks up the pen and starts writing.
You can only sit there, dumbfounded, as his neat, surprisingly elegant handwriting fills in the answers you’ve been struggling with for hours.
"Wait—are you actually doing my homework?" you ask, staring at him in disbelief.
He glances at you from the corner of his eye, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Told ya. I'm a senior. This stuff’s easy."
"Easy for you, maybe."
“Then why didn’t you ask me earlier?” he drawls, finishing the last answer without breaking a sweat.
You blink at the completed assignment like it might disappear if you look away. "I… didn’t think to."
Leona rolls his eyes and tosses the pen onto the desk with a lazy flick of his wrist. “Next time, just ask. I ain't gonna let you stress yourself out over dumb stuff.”
And that’s it. Just like that, all your anxiety evaporates.
You turn to look at him, utterly smitten once again. "You're ridiculous."
He leans back, resting his head against your shoulder again with a satisfied sigh. “Yeah, yeah.”
You let yourself melt into him, the earlier panic now a distant memory. His warmth, his steady breathing, the way his arms rest loosely around you—it all feels so easy. So right.
For a moment, you just sit there in silence, the peaceful kind that feels rare and precious. The assignment is finished. The world isn't ending. You don’t have to do everything alone.
You tilt your head to rest against his, your smile soft. "Thanks, Leona."
"Mm," he hums, already halfway back to sleep. But his hand gives yours a lazy squeeze, a quiet reassurance that makes your heart skip a beat.
The day passes in a haze of warmth and peace, your stress long gone. And you realize something: being with Leona feels like this—like having someone who makes the hard days bearable, without needing you to say a word.
And yeah, you could definitely get used to this.
You've thought about asking him for weeks. Maybe even months. But every time the words start forming, you chicken out. You’re this close to accepting that you’ll just live in relationship limbo forever.
It’s safer. No awkward conversations, no heartbreak. Just… endless naps together, weird dates that may or may not be dates, and him doing sweet things without ever calling them what they are.
But tonight, as you sit curled up in his arms, watching the stars from a balcony in the botanical gardens, it feels like the moment. Leona is lounging beside you, one arm slung lazily around your shoulders, the other resting on your leg like it's the most natural thing in the world. His warmth is comforting, grounding, and for once, you let yourself think: Maybe, just maybe, this is real.
You take a breath, steeling yourself. If he laughs or acts indifferent, fine. If it ruins everything—okay, not fine, but you'll survive.
“Hey, Leona?”
He hums, eyes still half-lidded. He’s relaxed, probably thinking about nothing except how long it’ll take for him to drag you back to bed.
You clear your throat. “What are we?”
Leona cracks one eye open, giving you a lazy look. “Huh?”
You shift nervously under his gaze. “Like… What is this? Are we—” You gesture vaguely between the two of you. “—a thing? Or… I mean, are you—do you even like me like that? Or—?”
He stares at you for a second, blinking slowly, like a cat woken from a nap it didn’t want to leave. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”
You feel your courage start to wither, but you force the words out. “I mean, I thought… We never really said anything official. And I don’t know if this is, you know—” You wave a hand. “Something? Or if you’re just putting up with me or—”
Leona makes a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, like you just asked him the dumbest question imaginable.
“You really thought I’d let you hang around me this much if I didn’t want you?” he says, giving you a flat, incredulous look.
You blink at him. “So… we’ve been dating this whole time?”
He just stares at you. “...What else did you think we were doing?”
“Oh my god—” You slap a hand over your face, torn between relief and secondhand embarrassment. “I thought you were just vibing.”
Leona snorts. “Yeah. Vibing with you. Idiot.”
Despite yourself, you laugh—a little breathless, a little giddy. It’s so absurd. All this time, you’d been worried about asking him where you stood, and he just… assumed you knew.
Leona rolls his eyes but shifts slightly, turning to face you. His gaze is softer now, and the usual laziness in it is replaced by something raw and unguarded. His hand, rough and warm, cups your cheek.
“Listen,” he mutters, voice low and a little rough around the edges. “I’m not good at sayin’ stuff like this, so don’t make me repeat it, okay?”
You nod, holding your breath.
“I love you.” The words slip out easily, like they’ve been waiting there all along. “Don’t care what anyone says, don’t care what they think—I'm not good at a lotta things, but I know I want you.”
Your heart stumbles. For a moment, the world feels too quiet, too small. You reach up to cover his hand with yours, warmth spreading through your chest.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, like it's the easiest thing you've ever said.
Leona's lips twitch upward into a faint, self-satisfied smirk, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze lingers on you, like he’s not used to getting what he wants.
“So,” you say softly, “are you my boyfriend now?”
He gives you the look—that deadpan, long-suffering stare, like you’ve just asked him the dumbest question of the century.
“Then what the hell else would I be?” he grumbles.
You can’t help it. You laugh—bright, free, and maybe a little too giddy. And before you can stop yourself, you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips.
The kiss is soft, warm, and it lingers just long enough to make your heart race. He tastes like mint and the faintest hint of something earthy, something that feels like home. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, holding you close like he has no intention of letting you go.
When you finally pull away, you grin at him, still breathless. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Yeah, well.” He smirks, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Good,” you whisper, and this time, it’s him who leans in.
And just like that, the world slips away, leaving only the two of you—wrapped in warmth, in laughter, in everything you never knew you needed.
Leona saunters into your room, hands in his pockets, tail flicking lazily behind him. “Hey, Falena and his family are visiting today,” he says, like it’s the most casual thing in the world.
You blink at him from your bed, mid-scroll on your phone. “You mean the King and Queen of the Sunset Savanna are visiting.”
Leona shrugs. “Yeah. Same thing.”
You sit bolt upright. “Leona, that’s not the same thing! Those are literal royals!"
He raises an eyebrow, already amused. “I’m royalty too, you know?”
You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “But you’re my boyfriend!”
Leona’s smirk grows as smug as the desert sun. “Exactly.”
Oh no. He’s loving this way too much.
Despite your protests, you're soon standing next to Leona at the main entrance, sweating bullets as Falena, his wife, and Cheka step through the doors. They’re all gorgeous and elegant, the epitome of royal perfection. You’re about to pass out from nerves, but Leona? He looks like he’s two seconds away from falling asleep on his feet.
Cheka spots you first. “UNCLE LEONA!” he shrieks, barreling straight for his favorite uncle—and by extension, you. Before you can brace for impact, the little lion cub is already latched onto your legs.
“You must be the one Leona told us about!” Falena grins warmly, stepping up beside his wife, who’s equally radiant. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”
You gawk at him. “Wait... Leona talks about me?”
Falena’s wife smiles knowingly. “Quite a bit, actually.”
You shoot Leona a look, but he just rolls his eyes. “Don’t get weird about it.”
Meanwhile, Cheka, still latched to your leg like a koala, looks up with big, bright eyes. “You’re my favorite person now!” he declares, squeezing your leg tighter. “After Uncle Leona. But you’re mine after him, okay?”
Leona huffs out a laugh, amused by the possessive cub. “Tch. Good luck, kid.”
“I’ll fight for you!” Cheka promises dramatically, like you’re a prize to be won at a carnival. He even makes little fists, shadow-boxing an invisible opponent. “I’ll become a strong lion and beat all the bad guys!”
You try (and fail) to hold back a laugh. “Well, I look forward to it.”
Falena claps his hands together, his grin brighter than the savanna sun. “Since we’re all here, how about a walk around the grounds? It’ll be nice to catch up.”
“Nope.” Leona’s arm is suddenly wrapped around your waist, dragging you closer to him. “We’re good right here.”
Falena and his wife exchange that look—the kind that says they’ve been married long enough to know exactly what’s going on.
“We’ll leave you two alone, then,” Falena says with a chuckle, patting Leona on the shoulder. “We’re happy for you, Leona.”
His wife nods, her eyes twinkling. “Very happy.”
You open your mouth to protest—Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! We’re just standing here! I’m not even sure what’s happening!—but the words don’t come. You just sputter and blush as Leona tugs you closer, looking far too pleased with himself.
“See?” Leona murmurs smugly, lips quirking into a grin as you bury your face in your hands. “Told you it wasn’t a big deal.”
You groan into your palms. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” His grip tightens just a bit, his voice low and lazy as ever. “C’mon. Admit it—you like having a royal boyfriend.”
You peek through your fingers, cheeks burning. “Leona...”
He leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “Say it.”
You glare up at him, flustered beyond belief but unable to hide the smile creeping onto your face. “...Okay, maybe I do.”
He hums in satisfaction, practically purring. “Thought so.”
And just like that, he pulls you into a lazy, one-armed hug, as if holding you is the easiest thing in the world—and honestly? It kind of is.
The moment the news breaks that you’re dating Leona, you know it’s going to be a thing. A very loud thing. Ace and Deuce are the first to get wind of it, and honestly, you almost regret ever telling them.
“Leona Kingscholar?!” Ace yells, gaping like you just told him you were moving to Mars.
“Why??” Deuce adds, equally stunned. “Are you okay? Blink twice if you're in danger.”
“Isn’t he the guy who naps literally everywhere?” Ace squawks. “Like, you’re really dating a guy who falls asleep during fights?”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, Ace. I am.”
“Not to mention he’s scary,” Deuce mutters. “What if he, I don’t know, kicks you out of the relationship because it’s too much work?”
“He’s not going to ‘kick me out,’ Deuce.”
Ace leans in conspiratorially, wiggling his eyebrows. “Have you thought about what happens when Riddle finds out?”
Deuce pales. “Oh man, I’m not telling him.”
“You’re definitely telling him.”
“No, you tell him!”
“Do I look like I have a death wish?” Ace scoffs. “I can already hear him screaming something about ‘poor romantic judgment!’”
Meanwhile, Jack is sitting with his arms crossed, brow furrowed. “I don’t know why you’re all acting like this. Housewarden Leona’s actually cool if you get to know him.”
Ace stares at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “Jack, the man once threatened to ‘accidentally’ kick me into a bush because I sneezed near him.”
“Yeah, because you sneezed on him.”
“It was allergy season!”
“Uh-huh.” Jack shrugs. “Still deserved it.”
Before you can jump in, Grim waddles in, arms crossed like the world’s smallest mafia boss. “I don’t care who you date as long as you’re still my henchhuman. Priorities, ya know?”
“Gee, thanks, Grim.”
Then, from across the room, Epel starts cackling like a madman.
“Oh, Vil is gonna lose his mind when he hears about this!” he wheezes, clutching his stomach. “Leona’s the exact opposite of Vil’s whole life philosophy. This is beautiful.”
“Yeah,” Ace adds, smirking. “It’s like watching two completely different wildlife documentaries crash into each other.”
Before you can stop him, Sebek jumps in, indignant. “I cannot believe you would choose that lazy lout over the Young Master!” He practically growls the words.
“Sebek, Leona is—” you try to reason, but Sebek steamrolls right over you.
“He sleeps through his classes! He’s rude! And worst of all, he doesn’t respect Master Malleus!”
You sigh. “Sebek, you can’t date someone based on their respect levels for Malleus.”
“You should!” Sebek declares, crossing his arms dramatically like a lawyer who just delivered the winning argument.
Before things spiral further, Jack mutters, “Leona’s not rude. He’s just… efficient with his energy.”
“Efficient? He calls that one freshman ‘footstool,’ Jack,” Ace deadpans.
“Maybe it’s a term of endearment,” Jack grumbles defensively.
You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. The whole scene is chaotic—Ace flailing, Epel wheezing, Sebek looking personally offended, Deuce still white-knuckling through the idea of telling Riddle—and somehow, it’s perfect.
Because deep down, you know something they don’t.
Even though Leona doesn’t show it, even though he hates doing anything that even smells like effort, he cares. He really does. Whether it’s texting you to remind you to eat, draping his jacket over you when you forget yours, or waking you up from an accidental nap with your favorite snack—he makes sure you know.
You just smile quietly to yourself, heart warm. And when Ace notices and nudges you, asking what’s got you looking so smug, you just shrug.
“Oh, nothing,” you say, already counting down the minutes until you can see Leona again.
Because even though the man drives you up the wall and naps like a professional, he’s yours. And that makes all the teasing worth it.
1k masterlist ; Main Masterlist
i know lions don't purr but in my delusions, leona does. work with me here
#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#leona kingscholar x reader#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#leona x you#twst leona#leona kingscholar x you#leona#twst leona x you#1k event
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