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âMidnight Rendezvousâ
Pairing: Post-RE4R!Leon/gn!reader.
Summary: It's only natural to miss and long for the one you love, regardless of how accustomed you are to being apart from them. One lucky phone call can mean so much more when it's an unexpected surprise. For you and Leon alike. Or: Quick smutty drabble for @thatpyramidthing that turned into a one-shot, which then turned into a full-blown fic. Oops!
Word Count: 4k words.
Notes: Established relationship, phone sex, mutual masturbation, smut with feelings. Suspension of disbelief because people were not using their phones like this in 2000's lmao.
Credit: Divider by @/saradika-graphics
For you and Leon, spending extended periods of time apart was not an exception but rather a tried-and-true routine. That was just the nature of his job, and it couldn't be fought or challenged, only accepted and adapted to accordingly. The only thing you could do was cherish what time you did get to spend together.
This particular assignment of his was the same as any other. While you had no expectations for him to call, you can't help but beam once you see his name appear on your phone screen. Waisting no time at all, you quickly fall back into bed and answer the phone, feeling a little bit too excited for what is likely going to be a brief check-in given how busy he is normally when he's gone. Still, him calling at all is enough for your heart to race, and although it was late at night, you didn't mind at all.
For him, you'd jump up at 4 am if you had to.
"-Hey."
It's painfully obvious he has no idea what to say, probably just wanting to hear you speak more than anything else. The sound of his voice ringing in your ear makes you smile a little, even if his greeting was almost comically abrupt. Then again, you did not expect him to make a lovey-dovey speech for you or anything. That's just not the type of man Leon was, and you had no qualms with that. Moreover, he was probably very tired, anyway. You weren't about to complain over him not sounding joyful enough when he already made the effort to call you in the first place.
"Hi," you reply, shifting to lay flat on your back, your gaze staring up at the ceiling. Without his warm body here to cuddle up to, your bed felt a bit too large for your liking. However, expressing such a thought outloud was way too sappy-sounding, even for you. So, you kept the sentiment to yourself. "Did not expect you to call. Did you get a free moment?"
An ocean away, Leon slouches into his own hotel bed, cluttered with belongings haphazardly thrown abound with not much care for hospitality, his phone in his hand. What he does know, however is that he wanted, no, needed you to be over here, with him, right now. But, alas, that's a wish too ambitious to be granted. So he settles for the next best thing. And hearing your voice is definitely no reason to complain about.
He takes a deep breath, almost feeling as if his physical distance from you is the main cause of the exhaustion seeping into his bones. He missed your voice, touch, even your scent. It wasn't until he spoke to you again that he realized how much he had missed you.
"Yeah, I was surprised, too. The job's done, but they can't take me back to base yet because of the weather. So I'm just stuck here until further notice." He hesitates for a moment before adding, his voice taking on a more softer tone: "âŚAre you in the mood to keep me company?"
"-Is that even a question?" You laugh slightly, shaking your head, although he obviously couldn't see it from a phone call. Your reaction causes him to smile and chuckle to himself as well. God, he missed hearing you laugh. "How your mission went, by the way? Everything okay?"
Really, mission talk? His expectations were slightly higher than that.
"It was fine. Same bullshit. A bunch of bastards getting what they deserve." A part of him almost wants to act as though he's not truly alone in this dimly lit room, so he lets out another breath and turns over to lie on his stomach. It was hard to feel cozy when nothing about this place felt like home. Your voice helped with that, though. "I'm more interested in talking to you."
He hears you laugh under your breath again at his unenthusiastic answer. It wasn't necessary for him to say it outloud for you to understand that he was not interested in discussing work. Not that you blame him.
"The feeling's mutual, trust me," you murmur, a small smile audible in your voice. "Not to rush things before they happen, but I've been planning on making that braised steak for you when you get back. You know, the one you liked on Thanksgiving."
The notion of some homemade food instantly makes him feel a little more excited. The mere thought causes his tired eyes to light up a bit and his mouth to water. Guess men really don't need much to be happy, huh? What can he say, few things bring as much joy as a homemade meal from the one you love. Especially when he compares it to quick tasteless meals he got by with on the job.
"Oh really now?" His voice now has a somewhat lighter lilt to it, his words gradually regaining some of their emotion. "-Because that sounds like you're trying to butter me up for something."
He teases, but the excitement in his voice is very much genuine. You laugh, this time a muffled giggle, and the sound promts a small, warm smile to make its way onto his lips as he closes his eyes and concentrates solely on your voice through the speaker. This was nice.
"Is it so odd that I want to treat you to something?"
"-No, it's not odd. It's sweet. I appreciate it. I really do," he corrects softly, quietly expressing his appreciation. For a man who has endured far too much hardship for his age, it was refreshing to have someone care for him in such a simple yet meaningful way. After a brief peaceful pause, he speaks again in a somewhat quieter voice, nervously drumming his fingers on the bedsheets: "...Hey, can I ask... can I be a bit selfish with you for a second?"
The way he fidgets and murmurs out his request is almost bashful; it's a part of him that, all things considered, feels a little strange even to him. But he can't help it. You make him anxious, but not in the stuffy, claustrophobic way he's accustomed to. This type of anxiousness feels good. Exciting. A welcome contrast to the blood-curdling anxiety that was his unspoken partner on the job.
"How so?" You inquire, curiosity evident in your voice. You were oceans away - literally - so it's not like there was much for you two to do except talk. A part of him was honestly just going to ask you to stay on the phone with him until he falls asleep. It's a kind of a dumb request, which makes him embarrassed, but he doesn't really want to back down from it anyhow.
Leon bites his lip, slightly perplexed on how to go about it without just asking you upfront. He wasn't good at this whole 'subtlety' thing.
"I, uh⌠I just wanted to ask you to talk to me a little more. For a while, I mean." He pauses, lets out another sigh, and then shifts in his bed into a more comfortable position. To hell with this, he might as well just spill the beans to you now. "My mind's just filled with⌠crap. Iâm tired. The 'I could sleep for a week straight' type of tired. But I know Iâll just end up tossing and turning for hours instead. I just... your voice would help."
You chuckle at that, the sound uplifting, as at least you're not bewildered by his request. He knows you'd gladly do a lot more than just talk for him if you were actually here. Which makes the whole separation even more difficult to deal with. He shifts onto his back, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling as he lays his head back against the pillow with a soft sigh.
"Well... I wish I could have you laying on top of me so I could play with your hair, but... I guess us just talking on the phone will have to do for now."
He feels a small, enjoyable shiver from the mental picture you conjured up for him. The sense of contentment he's always felt when you did that is something he knows by heart now. His brain always seemed to just shut itself down, nothing for him to focus on except for the sensation of your soothing touch in his hair. God knows he'd kill to have that right now.
"Yeah. You really know what to do to make me feel all better⌠I hate being apart like this." He shifts again, feeling a little restless due to your words and his own thoughts making him long for you ever more. He hesitates for a moment, his heart racing as he imagines your touch. If he tries hard enough, he swears he can nearly feel the ghost of your fingertips combing through his hair. "Keep going. Tell me something else."
His voice comes out a bit muffled, and he is inadvertently tightening his grip on the phone a little, almost as if it'll bring him closer to you, somehow.
"Like what?" You ask without hesitation. Well, it's better than you playing a guessing game with him, at least. You were notoriously horrible at those, anyways.
Leon takes a deep breath while he clumsily mimics your touch by idly running his fingers through his hair. His hands are not comparable to yours at all. They're rougher and completely different in size. He drops his hand back onto the sheets with a small, frustrated huff.
"Anything. Just... keep talking. Your voice, itâsâŚ" He clears his throat and considers the precise words he should use here. He's sure on where he is going with this, either. He simply knew that he needed to hear you, and that this need was gradually developing into a full-on craving that was desperate to be satisfied. "I want to hear more of it. And... what youâd do to me if you were here."
That's subtle enough, he thinks. He's fine with you being the one to decide on the way to interpret him. He just wanted to listen to you.
But, admittedly, his brain had other ideas.
As Leon closes his eyes, his mind is racing with countless ideas, none of which are as innocent as a simple cuddle or a hand stroking through his hair. He imagines your weight settled on top of him, steadying him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands holding onto his shoulders as your bodies mold and move together, skin to skin, with nothing but your presence there to fill his head with. Your sweet voice whispering all the things he wants to hear, your warm breath waffling over his ear.
All the ways in which you hold him, touch him, want him.
Your voice, which sounds nearly muffled through the pleasant fog buzzing in his head, jolts him out of his fantasy.
"Oh. ...Ohhh," you draw out, the realization clear in your voice. He almost snorts in endearment. Well, at least you caught on. His heart flutters in his chest with wordless excitement as the thought causes heat to rush to his face. Nearly subconsciously, he reaches for the other side of the bed with his free hand, almost as if you would be there. Which, of course, you're not. Much to his disappointment. "We're not... talking about cuddles here, are we?"
The tone of your voice changes, and Leon's breath catches a little. He can imagine how flushed your cheeks probably look, how your heart is beating a little faster at the realization. At this point, he was too worked up to restrain himself. Besides, the cat's out of the bag now. Not much point in walking back on his own words. Biting his lip, he lets his fingers slowly slide down his abdomen as he contemplates your words. Would you be up to what he has in mind? He hopes you would.
"No. No weâre not." He reaches for his belt and slowly starts to unfasten it. The button on his jeans is next. Then the zipper. The release of some tension causes him to inhale sharply, feeling the cool air against his skin, a small shiver running up his spine. He closes his eyes. "Keep. Talking."
His tone is direct, curt, rough. It's the same one often uses on the job, perfect for giving out clear orders in the heat of the moment, but using it under these circumstances definitely hits a little different. Especially for you. He can hear your breath quicken just a tiny bit, wordlessly reassuring him that you are, indeed, just as into this as he is. He smiles a little at the thought, feeling both relieved and little amused. He can imagine you lying there, your mind running hundred miles an hour to come up with a response while holding the phone up to your ear. He wonders if your other hand is wandering south now, too.
"Well I'd, uhm..." He lets you take your time and get your bearings, not hurrying you further. Hell, he's perfectly fine with you pulling out of this if it just wasn't clicking for you. He made his intentions clear. Now it was up to you to make the call, whatever it was. On any other day, he'd be the one getting all awkward over talking of these things outloud, but today, his mind is focused solely on your voice coming through the speaker. He hears you sigh, a sound steadying, and he feels himself smile. There you go. "I'd... want to kiss you. Long. Until we're both out of breath. And you get that dazed look in your eyes. You look so beautiful when you get like that. And just from me kissing you, too."
Leon listens to every word with keen interest, his eyebrows raising as you create a vivid picture in his mind for him to mull over. It was relatively tame, but it was a good starting point. Not to mention genuine. He can almost sense the warm touch of your lips against his, the taste of you on his tongue. You calling him beautiful was a nice cherry on top, making his breathing quicken in turn.
With his movements jerkier and clumsier than usual due to the excitement that was now steadily flowing through his veins, he quickly pulls his shirt over his head. He doesn't really look where it lands, just throwing it somewhere to the side with zero regard for decency. Not like it matters.
With his eyes still closed, he moves his hand slowly down his bare chest, grazing each ridge of his abs with his fingertips before lowering it further. He tries to mimic the manner in which you would touch him from memory. It's not a flawless attempt, bit it's good enough in his books. He can't help but groan softly, finding himself wanting to press into his own touch, if only to feel even the fraction of how your affection would feel like upon his battered body.
"And then?" He prompts, his voice lower now, charged with underlying tension hanging in the air. He knows full well that you can probably sense the hunger and anticipation he's not trying very hard to conceal. He wishes he could actually see you right now. But, alas, this will have to do.
"-What are you doing right now?" Your voice breaks him out of his momentary fantasy, his heart picking up speed in his chest as he focuses on you: every little change in your breathing, the dip in your tone, the words you choose to say to him. He hears you swallow before continuing: "What would you have me do if I was there? I could... y'know, go from there."
His heart swells with affection as he laughs a little. You weren't very slick. Then again, you never were. He liked you for that. It was painstakingly clear that you were just eager to hear exactly what he was up to. He was happy you were enjoying yourself.
He moves again, lying on his side, and switching the phone to loudspeaker while resting it on the cushion next to him before sitting back up to get comfortable. His own breath comes out shakily now, charged with rising arousal. Slowly, his other, free hand moves up his stomach, stopping at his chest. He huffs softly as he imagines your touch.
"Iâd⌠Iâd have you sit here." He moves his hand up to one of his pectorals and squeezes slightly as he pictures your fingers squeezing at his flesh instead. The action, along with his imagination, makes him bite his lip again, sucking in a breath through his nose. "Right in my lap."
He canât help letting out a quiet 'fuck...' as he imagines you on top of him, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him, long and deep. Oh, what he wouldn't give just to have you close and to feel your lips against his again. He misses you so much that it's a little humiliating, but his mind is too hazy to care. No, all he cares about is you touching his bare skin with your hands, stroking the rising flames of his desire with every cares. Lost in the fantasy of your hand taking the place of his own, his hand slides higher up and touches his chin, causing sparks to bloom on his skin as he tilts his head back. He'd be just as pliant with you here, if not even more so. Just to feel wanted by you.
His mind is buzzing from the faint sounds of your own breathing coming through the speaker, which he can hear stuttering and quickening through the delightful fog filling his head. He doesn't push you into talking if you dont want to. However, he is well aware that you are not merely listening to him while innocently laying in your bed. He knows you well enough now to catch onto your state of arousal through the change in your breathing alone. He likes the thought of you doing the same as him right now. He hears some muffled shuffling on the other end of the line, something akin to bed covers being tousled around before you reply to him.
"On your lap," you repeat, almost as if testing out the idea in your head. Your tone is tight, and he can hear you take a single steadying breath before continuing: "I'd like that."
"Good," he finds himself responding, a faint smile on his lips. It's a small encouragement, just to let you know he's very much enjoying himself. To his surprise, you continue without any further promting from him.
"-I'd love to treat you after you get back. Just have you lay back and feel good while I take care of everything. Relax. You deserve it."
Your comments cause Leon's breath to catch abruptly, and he lets out a small, trembling gasp. He was not ready to hear something like that front you right now. In the best way possible. He is able to practically sense your presence and the grounding weight of your body upon him. As he runs his hand back down his chest and over his abs, they begin to tremble slightly.
"FuckâŚ" He groans lowly again, his brows drawing together in concentration as he pictures you in his lap. Your warmth against his hardening length, the way your hips would push against his.
His other hand mindlessly slides down as he palms himself through his jeans, his breath stuttering at much-needed stimulation. His hips jolt to press up firmly into his touch, imagining it's your hand instead of his own. He visualizes your fingers moving slowly down his chest. You kissing him all over as you usually do, leaving a trail of warm kisses down his hips and abdomen. He shivers and curses under his breath as the heat coiling in his gut only gets stronger.
"Leon?" It takes all of his inner strength not to whimper in response to your voice, which sounds both uncertain and needy. God, you just had to say his name of all things, huh?
"Keep going. Tell me more," he pants out softly, his voice rough with need. "Would you touch me?"
You laugh at that, and the sound makes him chuckle in response, his heart strangely light in his chest despite the intimate mood. You both sound so breathless. He likes that.
"Is that even a question?" You repeat the same thing you told him just minutes prior, and he can't help but snort. You got him there, he'll give you that. Though, your lighthearted playfulness soon shifts back into hushed arousal. "...Everywhere. Would love to touch you all over."
He swallows.
"Oh yeah? Seems like we both have the same idea."
You pause for a long time, and just as he's about to encourage you to speak your mind or reassure you, you beat him to it. And, boy, do you catch him off-guard.
"Just... Imagining riding you slowly. Make us both really feel all of it, every touch. I want to kiss at your neck, too... taste your skin, feel you shiver. And have my hands roaming all over you, too. Want to treat you right. Feel you."
...Oh, damn.
Leon moans at your words as he squeezes his length through his jeans a little. You just set his mind into overdrive. It's everything he wants and more. Your hands on his skin, your lips trailing warm, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, making him forget anything and everything but you and your touch. The way your hips would move against his, slowly and sensually, drawing out the pleasure until it becomes unbearable. At this point, his dick is practically aching to be touched, throbbing in the confines of his jeans.
"Jesus," he breathes out, a small, breathless chuckle following suit. Needless to say, you have him wrapped around your finger, even miles upon miles apart. He wouldn't have it any other way. "Keep talking like that and I'll lose it."
"Maybe I want to hear you lose it," you suggest to him softly, almost like you were testing the waters with what you could say to him. The idea makes him want to laugh. You didn't need to worry about a single thing with impressing him.
He quickly reaches for the waistband of his jeans and tugs them down just enough to free himself from the stiffling fabric. He exhales a shuddering breath as cool air hits his heated skin, a sense of relief accompanying the movement. He wastes no time wrapping his fingers over his cock, slowly stroking himself, still imagining your hand in its place instead of his own. Meanwhile, his other hand slides back up his chest, following the trajectory your touch would follow according to his memory. As he imagines you playfully nibbling at the side of his neck and whispering more sickeningly sweet dirty things into his ear, he shivers and gently rolls his thumb over his nipple.
"...Wish you were here," he exhales. He's losing himself in a fantasy that you two have created thus far, and it's getting easier and easier for him to just speak without hesitation or embarrassment. "Want your hands on me. Hips, stomach, chest, cock⌠everywhere."
In response, he hears you whine, and his mind generously conjures up a variety of possibilities for what you may be doing at the moment, each one more provocative than the last. What he wouldn't give to touch you right now, God. To be the reason behind those lovely sounds you are making.
"-So touch yourself," you instruct, your words barely above a whisper, your breaths coming out in small, shaky puffs of air, each one shooting straight to his groin. "Touch yourself like I would touch you right now. God, I would love to feel you under my hands..."
Leon shudders at your words, his cock throbbing in his hand as he instinctively bucks up, his breath faltering. A low groan leaves his lips, in equal measure in response to you as well as his touch. This time, he imagines you watching him, your own hand on yourself as well. Your lips parted and your cheeks flushed with arousal as you look at him dutifully.
"Fuck⌠I am,â he pants out, his hand moving a tad faster over his length. He senses himself leaking, the tip of his cock slick with precum. He spreads it around with his thumb, squeezes at the base, and then draws his hand back up. He bites his lip to stop another moan from slipping out, though, at this point it seems to be a futile effort. He's surprised he hasn't tasted blood yet. "Your hands would feel so good right now⌠so much better than mineâŚ"
"Leon..." He hears you moaning out his name, and he swears that he almost came right then and there from the sound of it alone.
His free hand slides back up to his chest, gently squeezing at one of his nipples with the tips of his fingers. He pulls at it lightly, his brain picturing your teeth instead of his fingers. His back arches up towards the touch, a low groan leaving his lips.
"Tell me⌠where would you touch me?" He asks, his voice strained. "Be direct."
Your breath catches, as though you're taken aback by his question. But he was greedy, and he wanted more. He could feel his insides twisting and turning in the pit of his stomach, and not in a bad way. His spiraling brain almost couldn't handle the mental image of you touching yourself while on the phone with him, even though he was doing that exact same thing.
"Your chest," you murmur breathlessly, almost like the words were stealing your breath away as you shared them with him. And yet, you went on: "I want to touch your chest. Caress you all over... Squeeze at you, play with your nipples while I kiss the side of your neck and listen to you gasp and whine. Just like you like it."
Leon instantly visualizes your touch on him and lets out a deep wanton moan.
"Yes," he exhales. "Like that. Miss you..."
"-Miss you, too... so much." His head reels as you echo those words back to him in that breathy, almost whiny tone, and his hips automatically buck up into his hand in an attempt to feel what he perceives to be your touch.
He groans softly, running his hand over his chest, more to tease than to touch. Just as you said, he circles his nipple again and rolls the hardened bud under his thumb. Squeezing it just the way you would for him if you were here. Even if it's a poor substitute for the real thing. "Your mouth, too. Want it all."
Using his precum as lube, he begins to stroke himself quicker, rougher. He moves his hand up and down his shaft, squeezing a bit at the tip before returning back to the base in a familiar technique. Seeking the increasing pleasure coiling in his gut, he thrusts his hips up into his hand.
And as he hears every tiny sound of pleasure coming from your end, his desire for more only intensifies. You seem to be enjoying yourself just as much, stuttered breaths and muffled whines flowing through the receiver. He is saddened by the fact that he cannot see you in person at this moment in all your glory. But, this will have to do.
You exhale.
"Yeah," you encourage softly, your own voice breathy and hushed with arousal. "I'm right there with you."
"-Wish you were," he gasps out, his eyes shut tight as he wills himself to somehow bring this fleeting fantasy to life, however briefly. "Would feel so much better with you here."
"I am. Just close your eyes and focus on my voice. My hands stroking you, my mouth on your skin... Whatever you want. I'll give it to you. You deserve it."
Leon's already thin breaths come out in unsteady gasps as a result of your sweet encouragements. Your breathy and needy voice is somehow making him even more aroused than he already is, if that was even possible. His free hand descends to roam over his abdomen, primarily to visualize your hands mindlessly stroking his flesh. It's maddening.
"Fuck, you are too good at thisâŚ" He pants out, his hips thrusting up into his hand. Instead of continuing to trace over his lower abdomen, his hand reaches up to comb through his hair, just like you would, the delightful sensation sending jolts of pleasure directly to his cock. "Too good to me. Want to touch you, too. Whatever you want."
In order to give himself greater room to move around without experiencing any discomfort, he spreads his legs somewhat wider. He inadvertently starts to imagine you in a position between them, your head bobbing up and down as you take him in. His cock throbs at the mere thought, another droplet of precum dripping from its tip. Oh, he's lost it completely.
He listens to you groan quietly, and the realization that his words have the same impact on you as yours do on him makes him feel proud. The sound of your pleasure creates a fuzzy sensation in his head, blocking out all thoughts but you, you, you. His mind creates a fairly realistic image of what you are doing at the moment, even while he is itching to actually see you. And, God, was that picture irresistible.
"I want that too... Want to make you feel good."
Leon slightly squeezes the base of his cock at your whispered wants, another shudder rippling through him. He is acutely aware that he is getting close now, his balls drawing up tight and a growing coil of tension simmering deep in his gut.
"-Shit, I'm so fucking close," he pants heavily, his hips thrusting up into his hand steadily. He imagines you straddling him, riding him with all you have until you are both a gasping, trembling mess. Your hands wrapped snuggly over his neck and your lovely eyes on him the whole way through. The moan that comes out of him at the thought is borderline obscene as his head falls back, hot pleasure coiling in his gut until it's borderline unbearable. He does have enough sense in him left to warn you, though, however clumsy. Or maybe ask for permission. He isn't sure, and he is far too dazed to figure it out. "Jesus, fuck, going to cum-"
"That's alright, let go, I want to hear you," you coo at him softly through shaky puffs of air, a hint of urgency laced in your words. You were obviously getting impatient yourself while listening to him enjoying himself, whether that meant you were getting close or not. Either way, it was hot. "Cum for me, Leon. Please."
He didn't need to be told twice.
It only takes him a couple more rough strokes before he comes to a halt and shudders, his cock spurting ropes of his release into his hand and stomach, a broken gasp of your name leaving his lips in a desperate mantra before the pleasure slowly subsides. He's left panting, catching his breath from the pleasurable high of his orgasm as he plops back down on the bed, letting his body relax and gather its bearings.
"Jesus Christ, that was... wow..." He exhales, his voice ragged. As his mind gradually clears from the haze of pleasure that clouded his senses moments prior, he laughs softly, his voice full of tiredness and a hint of sheepishness. He turns his head to the phone, almost like he'd see you there. "You okay? Did you...?"
...He didn't even check if you came or not. Now he kind of feels like an ass.
"Y-Yeah. Just now." Because of your stuttering breaths, your words are a little unsteady. Whether you came with him or moments after, he doesn't really care. He's just glad you were left satisfied, too. Somewhat. Really, this was still more about him than you. He should fix that next time you do this.
He lets out a soft and warm chuckle at the thought. Next time. He was already thinking of next time, huh? Either way, that familiar subtle tremor in your voice makes him smile to himself, wishing he could reach out and stroke your cheek with the back of his hand right now.
"Good. I'm... I'm glad. Got worried there for a sec." He reaches over and grabs a tissue off his nightstand to quickly clean himself up. After tossing the tissue away, he leans back against the bed, feeling completely relaxed. "That was... something. Definitely needed that. Thank you."
A pleasant sense of calm washes over him as he sighs, closing his eyes. The subtle ache in his muscles and post-organasmic bliss is a welcome contrast to the constant tension he was dealing with lately.
"Happy to hear that." While he's unable to see you, he can still hear the smile in your voice, which makes him smile in turn. You take a deep, steadying breath, some rustling following suit as you probably clean yourself up and get comfortable. He didn't prod you. It didn't feel awkward at all when you were on the line with him. Despite his wish for you to actually be here.
"...I can't wait to see you again. To actually hold you, kiss you, make up for lost time," he promises, his voice unusually soft and intimate. "Tell you what, once I get back, we'll spend a whole weekend in bed, just the two of us. No phones, no work, no distractions. Just us."
His wistful smile is accompanied by the image of you in his bed, warm and cozy as you nuzzle up to him. God knows he didn't need anything more to be happy.
"That sounds lovely. I might just hold you to that," you giggle, those same familiar playful notes making their appearance again as you both come down from your highs.
"Hey... Do you mind staying with me on the line tonight? I don't... really want to hang up," he confesses, a bit embarrassed, but unwilling to just part with you so quickly. He can't help but feel a bit clingy.
"Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing."
He laughs at that, shaking his head.
"God, I love you."
"I love you more."
#resident evil#leon kennedy#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#feedback is appreciated mostly because smut is actually not a strong suit of mine#but hey can't get good without practice!#i hope dialogue is believable - now that was the trickiest part alright!#leon's bad at dirty talk in my head but hey#if you love someone dome exceptions can be made#tumblr you better not fucking banish me into tag prison again
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hello santa neiptune for your holiday servings i think christmas pudding with either shoyo + a prompt 6 (family invited an old crush/first love to a dinner party) or sunsrin with prompt 19 ("I'm going to buy/make the worst secret Santa gift humanly possible") or atsumu with prompt 13 (neighbourhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive) smooch smooch smooch smooch
rintaro suna x I'm going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possible
âShut up everyone, itâs time!â, Atsumuâs comically authoritarian tone swallows the chatter, the living room of his apartment growing silent.
âWhy canât we pick who we want to get a gift for?â, Aran grumbles from his end of the couch. The setter frowns.
âBecause I think none of you assholes would pick meâ.
âWhatever gave that awayâ, Suna clicks his tongue. A soft, empty stocking collides with his face.
âYer picking first!â, Atsumu holds the old dunkin donuts box under his nose, shaking it slightly to further shuffle the folded pieces of paper in it.
âIâm going to buy the worst secret santa gift humanly possibleâ, Rintaro, ever the grinch, grumbles as slender fingers randomly draw a name.
âRin, youâre supposed to look at it later!â, you lightly elbow him in the ribs but he pulls back, avoiding the jab. The only sign of something flashing across his deadpan features is a slight twitch of the brow as he reads the name he pulled out. Then itâs gone, small piece of paper tucked safely into the pocket of his sweatpants.
âYour turnâ, Atsumu brings the box to you with a grin. You know he hopes you draw his name, youâre notoriously the best gift giver of the group and he wasnât exactly ecstatic about the Blue Lock themed calendar Osamu got him the previous year, especially with that insufferable Rin dude occupying the page dedicated to his birth month.
âI hope itâs meâ, Osamu crosses his fingers from the other side of the room, where heâs resting his back against the fireplace. You chuckle, keep the small piece of paper in your closed fist as you patiently wait for everyone else to draw their names.
The boys make a whole spectacle out of unfolding the pieces of paper, Atsumu the most teased one between whistles, oohs and ahhs. You make sure not to let the small pang of disappointment shine through your smile: youâre happy itâs Kita, you love Kita. You just wouldâve loved for it to be Rin more.
The designated gift exchange day is a week later, right on christmas eve. The anxiety churning in your stomach is suffocating because why would you even get something for him too? All you had to do was pick a nice gift for Shinsuke, the easiest person to please on planet earth. But now there are two extra nicely wrapped presents under the tree in your living room, one of them will make you look like a complete dumbass because there wonât be any logical explanation to justify an additional gift. Atsumu will never shut up about it, like, ever. Fuck.
Youâre abruptly pulled away from your thoughts when the doorbell rings, the sound making you jump. Confusion is still written all over your features when you open the door, not expecting any guest or delivery.
âHeyâ, Rintaro tosses you a tiny smile to balance the hesitancy out.
âRinâ, surprised, you blink a few times, âyou okay?â.
âYeah. Can I come in?â.
âOf course!â.
He takes off his shoes and slowly steps into your apartment, cheeks unusually flushed courtesy of the cold outside.
âWhatâs that?â, you curiously peek at the bag he holds in his hand while he walks to your couch and you gingerly trail behind him.
âIâm your secret santaâ, he clears his throat, âdidnât wanna give this to you in front of everyone. Donât make it weirdâ.
You sit next to him with mirth swarming in stupidly bright eyes. Suna feels his palms getting clammy.
âSo you wanted to give me the worst gift humanly possible⌠early?â.
âExactly. Hereâ, he hands you the small paper bag, âyouâre welcomeâ.
âYouâre a dickâ, you giggle, unable to disguise the affection in your voice.
Inside the bag there are two numbered envelopes. You open the first, smaller one.
âWhat theâŚ?â, itâs a regular yellow post-it, with a handwritten note.
Congratulations on your hardly earned free time. Make the most of it :)
âCheck the other oneâ, Suna indicates the remaining envelope.
âIâm confusedâ.
The second gift is⌠handmade coupons for messy, scribbled options: concert, one meal, roadtrip, win an argument, breakfast.
âYou get two coupons. I kinda already have tickets for your favorite bandâ.
âButâ, your throat feels dry, âI donât⌠I have to work?â.
âYou donât. I emailed your boss, got you some time off, something you never wouldâve done for yourselfâ, Suna looks away, inscrutable as always. Your heart slams harder against your ribcage.
âRinâ.
He meets your gaze and you offer a smile.
âI got you something tooâ.
thank you for trusting my writing, hope you enjoy! happy holidays mwah
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a love song over time - part 3
A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60645565/chapters/157278214
|-|-|
Chloe sits on the porch of her home, a cup of hot chocolate in hand as Bella perches beside her holding her own. The winter sun is just setting over the trees, the recent snowfall having decorated the scenery in a blissful white atmosphere. Chloeâs mind falls to a certain DJ, and she unknowingly smiles, her gaze fixated on the birds setting for the evening.
âMomma?â Bella asks, disrupting her from her thoughts. Her big, round eyes glance up towards her mother.
Chloe smiles softly, bringing her gaze towards her, âWhat is it, bug?â
Tilting her head, Bellas curls bounce slightly as she gives her a thoughtful look. âIs Beca your best friend?â
The question catches Chloe off guard, and she blinks a few times in surprise. âWell, yesâŚâ She confirms, pausing to think of her next words. âSheâs one of my best friends.â She adds, a small grin forming as she thinks of the brunette. âWhy do you ask?â She quizzes, wrapping an arm around the girl.
Bella shrugs, her petite hands fiddling with her bright yellow mug, one that she got for her birthday; itâs comically large with ladybug on the front. âYouâre always happy when you talk about her. And I saw you guys hug a lot when she was here. Like, a lot a lot.â She emphases, taking a slurp of her hot chocolate.
Chloe canât help the snort as her cheeks tinge pink. She hadnât realized Bella had caught on to their closeness. âWell, sheâs very special to me.â The redhead says, leaning her head on Bellaâs.
Bella nods and watches the birds for a moment. Suddenly her eyes sparkle with curiosity, and she sits up and looks at her mom. âIs she like Daddy?â
Chloeâs eyebrows raise at the innocent question and her heart skips a beat. She hesitates, unsure on how to answer. âWell, Beca isnât like Daddy. SheâsâŚâ Chloe pauses, âWell sheâs different. But sheâs someone very important to me. Someone I care about a lot.â
Bella ponders this for a moment before nodding thoughtfully. âOkay.â She says, âI like her. She makes you laugh.â
Chloeâs heart swells at her daughterâs simple observation and she pulls her in close. âI like her too. She makes me very happy.â
And Bella grins, leaning into her mother. Â âYou should tell her that.â
The older Beales breath catches in her throat at the thought of that. Leaning down she plants a kiss against Bellas bright red hair. âMaybe I will,â she says softly, more so to herself than to Bella.
She canât deny sheâs been thinking about the brunette a lot, since she left. They hadnât spoken about what happened between them or any of the intimacy they shared. Though she canât deny, she really really likes how Beca makes her feel.
She feels so alive. So seen and wanted. Something that she hasnât felt in a while.
She thinks back to her past relationship with Tom and sighs.
After Bella was born, Chloe had noticed changes in him. Though he was overjoyed to be a father and attentive to Bella, eager to provide for her every need, he withdrew further from Chloe. He became quieter, more distant, and his warm, spontaneous affection gave way to a poised detachment.
At first, Chloe chalked it up to her own insecurities. Sheâd gained a bit of weight during her pregnancy, and the long nights with a newborn had left her feeling drained and distorted. She told herself that with time, things would return to normal- that she would feel desirable again, and Tom would see her the way he once did.
But that moment never came. Instead, Tom threw himself into his work. He became consumed by long hours and endless projects, often locking himself away in his office or traveling on work trips that seemed to grow more frequent. Chloeâs attempts to bridge the gap were met with vague excuses and distracted reassurances.
Over time, suspicion began to creep into Chloeâs mind. Tomâs absences became harder to explain, and the emotional distance between them felt overwhelming. She couldnât shake the feeling that there was someone else, though she never found concrete proof. It was a suspicion that lingered in the back of her mind, unspoken but ever-present.
He was still a great father to Bella, doting and involved⌠when he was around. But as a partner, he had faded away, leaving Chloe to navigate her feelings of loss and loneliness on her own. It was a slow unravelling of the life theyâd built together, and by the time Chloe truly acknowledged it, the damage was already done.
There were nights when Chloe would sit alone in the quiet of their home and think about her days in college. Back then, she had been so confident- fearless, even. Sheâd been surrounded by the Bellas: her family, constantly laughing, and always the centre of attention in any room she walked into. She missed that version of herself, the one who didnât second-guess every move, who felt beautiful and vibrant without needing anyone elseâs validation. The one that walked confidently, naked might I add, into anotherâs shower stall just because she liked the voice coming from it.
She yearned for that confidence now, for the freedom to be that courageous self. She found that when she was with Beca, glimpses of that old spark would flicker through the broken walls. Becaâs sharp wit and easy smile reminded Chloe of who she used to be and made her believe, if only for a moment, that she could find that person again.
No wait scratch that, she knows she can.
Beca always brought out the best in her, she thinks. From the moment they met to the moment they got their small crappy apartment in New York all those years ago.
Itâs always been Beca.
Beca was the reason the Bellas became what they are. Beca is the reason she named her daughter after the acapella group. Beca made them into something she never thought could be possible.
Beca made her feel beautiful.
Itâs always been Beca.
Chloe knows that. Though she always did know it, sheâs just no longer afraid to admit it.
She knows itâs time to stop dancing around her feelings and have the conversation they need to have.
She just canât help as she chews on her bottom lip thinking of when that time will be.
|-|-|
Meanwhile in New York, Beca paces the length of her living room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Sheâs typed out three drafts of a text to Jesse, but none of them felt right. Finally, with a groan of frustration, she types out a simple message.
Beca (16.34pm) Hey, can I call you?
A few seconds later, her phone buzzes with Jesseâs reply.
Jesse (16.34pm) Yeah, whatâs up?
Beca wastes no time with dialling his number. The moment he answers, she launches into a ramble. âSo, I think I need advice, and you are kind of my go-to for things like this,â Running a hand through her hair, she continues, âso you had me thinking last night, and I think youâre right.â
She hears Jesse chuckle on the other end and rolls her eyes.
âMan, shut up-â
âI told you!â He interrupts, and she can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
âYeah, yeah, yeah, Beca oblivious as ever,â She mocks, âBut seriously, what do I do?â She plops herself down onto the couch, sighing loudly as her ramble continues, âDude I have no idea what to do or say,â Beca admits. âIâm freaking out here.â
âOkay, first of all, breathe,â Jesse says, his voice a hint of amusement. âSecond, maybe you two just need to talk it out. Like adults. Crazy idea, I know.â
Beca huffs out a laugh. âYeah, thatâs helpful. Real groundbreaking advice Jesse.â She deadpans.
âI aim to please,â Jesse replies, his grin practically audible. âLook, why donât you invite her over to your place? Neutral territory. You can hash it out without distractions.â He suggests, and the idea makes her pause. âYou said it last night, that sheâs going on break soon for the holidays.â He adds, and she can imagine him shrugging.
Nodding slowly to herself, Beca contemplates the idea. She supposes it would be nice for Bella to experience New York around the holidays. Â âThat could work.â She replies, her fingers tapping against her black jeans. âThat could totally work right?â
âRight.â
âAnd if it doesnât, I can just curl up into a ball and die.â
âBecs.â
âBecause she probably already has plans made-â
âBeca!â Jesse exclaims down the line making her stop. âShut up.â He speaks. âJust send her a message. Trust me itâll be aca-fine.â
|-|-|
Beca (19.29pm) Sup Beale, was curious, whatâs your plans for the holidays besides being at home?
Chloe (19. 34pm) hi to you too stranger x
Chloe (19. 34pm) and you pretty much just summed it up. Iâll be at home with Bella. Tomâs busy with work
Beca (19. 35pm) shucks, wellâŚ. I know itâs a crazy idea, and you can say no if you want!
Beca (19. 35pm) would you and bella like to come here?
Chloe (19.38pm) as in New York?
Beca (19.40pm) yeah.. only if you want!
Beca (19.41pm) Thereâs no pressure obviously
Chloe (19.42pm) aww weâd love too :)
Chloe (19.42pm) Been thinking about u a lot x
Beca (19.43pm) huh⌠funny
Beca (19.44pm) Cuz Iâve been thinking about you a lot too
Chloe (19.45pm) really? Tell me more ;)
Beca (19.46pm) Yeah, just⌠you know, being around again you felt really nice. I missed being around you
Chloe (19.47pm) I missed it too. Feels like ages since we spent time together
Beca (19.48pm) Tell me about it. But I feel like since itâs the holidays and we both have time off we should totally like hang out
Chloe (19.50pm) Hang out? Â Is that what weâre calling this ;) but no I get u, and New York sounds like the perfect place to escape to for a bit. I miss it there
Beca (19.51pm) yep thatâs what weâre calling it beale, but oh! I have some new spots Iâve been dying to show you that opened recently
Chloe (19.53pm) do tell!
Beca (19.54pm) nah uh beale, Iâm gonna wait until youâre here to show you lol
Chloe (19.56pm) ahh the anticipation.
Chloe (19.56pm) I finish work this Friday and Bella is on Christmas break too, so we can be there Sunday afternoon maybe?
Beca (19.57pm) Awes, Iâll book you the flights
Chloe (19.57pm) oh no! you donât have to bec
Beca (19.58pm) Shush beale, I want to ;) let me know when you land and Iâll come pick you up x
|-|-|
The terminal at JFK was buzzing with commotion, not unknown for such a place but with Christmas right around the corner, it was more chaotic with families reuniting, friends visiting and last-minute flights.
Chloe stands near the baggage claim, clutching Bellasâs hand as they wait patiently for their luggage. Once they receive it, Chloe takes her daughter over to a nearby Starbucks as they wait for Beca. The young girl, wide eyed as ever, is bouncing in her seat, craning her neck in hopes of seeing the brunette.
âMomma when will she be here?â Bella asks for the third time, impatiently.
Chloe chuckles softly at her excitement, âSoon, bug.â She says, âSheâs probably stuck in traffic.â She reassures, though her own heart is fluttering with anticipation. It hadnât been long since she last saw her best friend, but she canât deny the butterflies currently dancing in her stomach thinking about her. Â
As she finishes up her latte, she hears the distinct voice of one Beca Mitchell.
âThere you guys are!â
Turning towards the voice, Chloe sees Beca weaving her way through the queue, her hair slightly disheveled, and bright rosy cheeks tainting her face.
Chloe thinks itâs adorable.
Thereâs a grin planted across the DJâs face as she spots them. Sheâs dawned in a simple leather jacket over a casual T-shirt and plain jeans. A classic Beca look.
Chloe thinks itâs more attractive than it needs to be.
Itâs quite distracting, honestly.
Bella sees her and lets out an excited squeal, jumping from her seat, not caring that it scrapes along the floor- a few customers glancing at the harsh sound- and beelines for Beca. The brunette chuckles as the young girl bounds into her, wrapping her tiny hands around her waist.
âThereâs my bug!â Beca says, ruffling Bellaâs hair amusingly before leaning down to wrap her arms around her. âMissed you, ya little troublemaker.â
Chloe grins as she approaches them, watching the interaction. âHi.â She says fondly, sidling up beside them.
The brunette away from Bella and stands up straight and smirks, âHey there.â Leaning in she places a chaste kiss on Chloeâs cheek. âYou look great,â She sneakily whispers into her ear.
Chloe canât help the faint blush that rushes to her cheeks and hides it by pulling Beca into a warm embrace.
âSo do you,â She replies, teasingly.
And thereâs that familiar spark igniting inside her again.
|-|-|
As they make their way towards Becaâs apartment, the hum of Christmas music plays faintly over the speakers. Chloe sits in the passenger side, a growing grin on her face as she steals glances at the brunette. Beca smirks when she notices and sends her a raised eyebrow in return.
Bella sits in the back, eyes curious and wide as she looks out the window. Last time she was in New York was when she was 2 years old, which obviously she doesnât remember much about. So, sheâs pretty much experiencing it for the first time.
âSo, BellaâŚâ Beca speaks, breaking the comfortable silence. She catches the girlâs eye in the rearview mirror. âSo, whatâs our plan for Christmas this year?â
Bella beams at the question and she sits up excitedly, âCan we make cookies?â She asks, but before Beca can answer sheâs rambling into her next request, âOh and can we watch a bunch of movies and drink hot chocolate? Oh, and can we have marshmallows with the hot chocolate?â
âBella, sweetheart, take a breath,â Chloe says, chuckling at her enthusiasm.
âOkay, okay,â Bella replies, pausing to think of more ideas.
âWell, I think those are some solid plans, bug,â Beca nods, as she pulls up at a red light. Bella smiles widely at the appreciation. âIâm making you the boss,â Beca adds turning in her seat to face Bella. âSo, whatever you say, goes.â She declares, leaning her hand out for a handshake. âSound like a deal?â
âDeal.â Bella giggles, shaking her hand.
As the light switches to green, Beca shifts into gear and takes a left towards her apartment. âShouldnât be too long until weâre there.â
âIâm so excited to see your place.â Chloe says, her expression glowing as she glances out the window, watching the passersby.
The last time Chloe had visited New York a few years ago, Beca and Amy had still been sharing the tiny, cramped apartment they had called home for years. It had been cozy, in the most chaotic, mismatched way that only a small space shared by wildly different personalities could be. She remembers the pull-out couch that doubled as a bed that she and Beca shared. The cluttered coffee table usually buried under takeout containers and Fat Amyâs magazines. The faint sound of Becaâs music playing from the corner that served as her makeshift studio. The flat had character for sure, but it was far from luxurious.
Since then, things had changed. Beca had moved out and found a new place of her own, leaving Amy to claim the old apartment entirely as her own. Though that changed quickly as the blonde Tasmanian fell into family wealth. Chloe had seen glimpses of Beca's new home in the pictures she had sent over the years. The photos had been impressive- cozy modern furniture, large open windows letting in floods of natural light, and mismatched but clean decor that screamed âBeca finally has her life together⌠Kinda.â But pictures could only show so much, and Chloe was dying to see it in person.
It was clearly a massive upgrade from what they previously shared. Chloe could already imagine the difference- the shift from cramped to spacious, from cluttered to organized. She knew Beca had worked hard to get where she was, and this new apartment seemed like a tangible representation of how far she had come.
Chloe couldnât be prouder of the brunette sat beside her.
Reaching over she places a hand on Becaâs thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze, as they pull up outside the apartment complex. The brunette shoots her a smirk, unbuckling her seatbelt. âCome on nerds.â
As they make their way towards the building, Bella skipping ahead of them, Chloe reaches down and intertwines her fingers around Becaâs. Bella is rambling about their evening plans, occasionally turning back to face them.
Beca gives Chloeâs hand a soft squeeze. âI was thinking,â she says, as they approach the elevator. Her free hand pulling the Bealeâs luggage. âWell, I was hoping...â She pauses, sighing. âWell, I was thinking we could you knowâŚâ She shrugs, cursing herself for losing words right now. âTalk?â
She rolls her eyes at herself.
Incredible wordplay Mitchell.
âTalk?â The redhead quizzes curiously as they shuffle into the lift.
Beca nods, pressing the button to her floor, before glancing to Chloe. âYeah⌠about us?â She explains, hopefully.
There she said it, Jesse should be proud.
Chloeâs head tilts, a small grin creeping up on her face. âUs?â She teases, easing Becaâs anxiety. âI like the sound of that,â her smile wide, âBut thatâs funny, Mitchell.â She adds, bumping her shoulder against the girls, âI was thinking the same thing.â
Chloeâs heart feels lighter as she realizes theyâre on the same page. And for the first time in years, it feels like sheâs exactly where she needs to be.
|-|-|
A few hours later, the trio are laid out on the couch in Becaâs living room. Home Alone on the TV in front of them.
The soft glow of the screen flickers in the otherwise dim living room, casting a warm, cozy light over the space. Beca had arranged the room, prior to their arrival, with the couch piled with soft blankets and a few scattered pillows. The air smelled of freshly made popcorn, courtesy of Jesseâs endless supply, something in which Bella had taken full advantage of with how much of it she has munched on.
Chloe sat with her legs stretched out on the couch, wrapped in a thick, fluffy blanket sheâd claimed the moment they started the movie. Bella was nestled in between her- the 4-year-olds small body curled up under a soft navy blanket, her eyes glued to the screen as her head laid on her motherâs chest. Beca sat at the other end of the couch, feet tucked beneath her, occasionally casting a glance over at them rather than the movie.
âI still canât believe this place is yours,â Chloe breaks the silence with a grin, looking around the mismatched space. âItâs so youâŚâ
The walls are lined with framed pictures of artists, and records. It reminds her of Becaâs dorm back in her freshman year. Then just off to the side is a bookshelf filled with novels of all kinds, most likely gifted by Becaâs father.
What warms Chloeâs heart the most though, is the wall dedicated to the Bellas. It holds their first ICCA victory, when they got first place in Worlds, their graduation picture and a bunch of memories made over the years.
But what stands out the most is in the middle of the pictures. A simple quote written in an elegant cursive font.
 âOnce a Bella, always a Bella.â
Chuckling, Becaâs eyes flicker briefly from the screen to Chloe. âYeah, I tried to go for something different you know, other than a box.â She says with a laugh, referring to their previous shared flat.
Bella, who had been quietly watching the movie, suddenly perks up and looks around, her small voice speaking âI like it here, Beca. Your home is so big!â She says, but quickly diverts her attention to the popcorn, âCan we have snacks again?â
Beca smiles warmly, shaking her head as she reaches for the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. âOf course, bug. Here you go,â she says, offering Bella a handful of popcorn. Bella happily grabs a few pieces and stuffs them into her mouth, much to her motherâs dismay.
Chloe disapproves but rolls her eyes. âYouâre gonna feel sick with all that popcorn,â she says through a small giggle. âAlso try save some for the rest of us, huh?â
Beca grins cheekily. âI donât know, Chlo. Bellaâs got the right idea- snacks are worth the sickness.â She declares, taking a handful to herself.
Bella nods, agreeing with the statement. Â âYeah, snacks are the best!â
Chloe sends a warning finger towards the brunette, âDo not encourage her Mitchell,â she says, trying to keep up the stern façade, but it slips as Becaâs smirk grows.
Giving in, she sighs, âAh fuck it, itâs Christmas.â Stretching her arm across, she takes the bowl of popcorn and scoffs some of it down, ignoring the loud snort from the brunette.
Beca whistles, her brows raising. âBeale! Do you speak to your mother with that language.â Her lips twitch into a mischievous smirk.
Chloe sends a deadpan look towards Beca and stares at her for a passing moment before breaking into a fit of laughter.
Rolling her eyes, she sets the bowl back down before snuggling in close to Bella. âLetâs just watch the movie.â
|-|-|
As the day evening ends, Beca and Chloe get ready to settle in for the night in the brunetteâs bedroom. A simple yet cozy room. Thereâs a queen-sized bed lined against the wall, pillows and blankets decorating it. A small window looking over the neighbourhood on the wall opposite, covered by dark curtains. And just beside that is the door to the ensuite.
On the bedside table sits a lamp, casting a warm glow over the room as they move around, in a routine fashion as they fall into old habits from their time living together. Chloe stands in front of the desk, looking into the mirror as she brushes her hair, the movements slow and thoughtful.
Bella had fallen asleep during the movie, after giving herself a popcorn filled food coma, leaving Beca to carefully carry her into the guest room.
Speaking of the brunette, sheâs just coming out of the bathroom after brushing her teeth and leans against the doorframe, watching Chloe for a moment.
The sight of her best friend- or whatever they are, brings a sense of calm to Beca that she finds it hard to describe.
They'd known each other for years, and yet, something incredible shifted recently. Maybe they could blame it on the holiday spirit or maybe, just maybe, it was just the slow, undeniable truth that had been building since the first day they met.
Chloe catching Becaâs gaze in the mirror, smirks, âWhat?â she asks softly, a slight smile tugging at her lips.
Beca hesitates for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly, trying to play it off. âNothing. I just...â She rolls her eyes, giving in, âI just really like you being here. It feels nice.â
It feels right. Is what she wants to say.
Setting the brush down, Chloe turns to meet Becaâs eyes as she leans against the desk. The air in the room notably shifts, and Chloeâs expression softens. She bites her bottom lip sheepishly, âI like it, too,â she admits after a beat, her voice sounding more vulnerable than she intended it to.
âIt feels... right.â
And Beca closes her eyes, leaning her head against the doorframe and lets out a chuckle, a grin peeking through.
âI was literally thinking the same thing.â She confesses sincerely, opening her eyes to find Chloeâs. The redhead pushes herself off the desk and walks lightly towards the bed, taking a seat at the edge. The brunette soon follows, planting herself beside her.
Beca couldnât help the way her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Chloe's words. And so, as she sits here beside her, she slips her hand into the redheads, running her thumb across her knuckles.
âChloâŚâ She starts, her voice quieter now, it has a hint of uncertainty that she tries her best to cover. âEver since I left yours, I canât stop thinking about you,â She says, honestly, pausing for a moment, âYou know how shit I am with words,â She rolls her eyes at herself, unsure of how to phrase what had been building in her mind this past while, âBut I just... youâre my best friend and-â Stuttering over her words, Beca huffs, âIâm sorry, Iâm not great at this.â
Chloe squeezes her hand, encouragingly, âTake your time.â She says, knowing that Beca needs to find her words.
Becaâs gaze is fixated on Chloe as she speaks, âI really like you. And I know that sounds so cheesy, but itâs the truth.â She pauses, taking a breath, âI think I always have.â She confesses. âI guess I just didnât realize it fully until recently.â Huffing out a laugh, she continues, âAnd I think- well I hope you feel similarly?â
Becaâs eyes are wide like a deer in headlights as she lets herself be vulnerable as she waits for a reply.
Chloe does feel the same.
And sheâll be damned if she doesnât let Beca know it. So, nodding, she pulls Becaâs hand to her lips and places a kiss on it, letting it linger as she replies.
âI do.â She says, a gentle grin in place, âI really do.â She emphasizes, looking deeply into Becaâs eyes. âYou actually have no idea how long Iâve wanted to hear you say that.â Her own eyes begin to gloss over but Beca quickly notices, and brings a hand to frame her face, gently caressing it.
âReally?â And her voice sounds so small, so exposed, as her fingers lay upon Chloeâs skin. Once again, the redhead nods, leaning into the touch. She chuckles and rolls her eyes, âSorry, I donât mean to tear up.â But when she glances at Beca, she sees it mirrored.
âWhat are we not like,â Beca teases, leaning her forehead on Chloes. Closing her eyes, she lets her hand trace Chloeâs jawline and feels the others girl come up to rest on hers.
Chloe understands. She knows how pathetic they must look right now. 30 something year olds, tearing up over this revelation. But itâs so much more than that. Itâs something that had been building since they met. That connection. An understanding of one another. Yes, there had been blips in between but all that matters is that theyâre here now. Together.
Unable to resist Chloe leans in and captures Becaâs lips in a lingering kiss. Itâs chaste but holds so much passion. Thereâs a slight salty taste from the tears that escaped but neither care, nor acknowledge it. Â
When they pull back, they both have easy smiles in place and Beca is the first to speak.
âI really like how this feels,â She communicates, running her thumb along Chloeâs cheek, âBut Iâm so scared of messing things up.â She confesses, shyly.
Chloe untangles her hand in Becaâs and runs it along the brunetteâs neck soothingly, âSo I am.â She agrees. âButâŚâ Leaning in, she gives Beca another peck, âI think itâs worth risk.â She admits, the words echoing against Becaâs lips.
Becaâs expression eases as she reaches up, brushing a strand of hair behind Chloeâs ear, now holding the redheadâs face with both hands. âI agree,â she says, her voice filled with a quiet certainty of someone who knows exactly what they want.
The tension between them is palpable, as the hum of the city outside plays around them. Chloeâs eyes linger on Beca, her hand still wrapped around her neck. She feels her heart full, and her nerves spike to one hundred, as she finds herself lost in the brunetteâs gaze.
She sees Becaâs shift towards her mouth and licks her lips. Leaning in, she gives in to a more passionate kiss. Her lips fall against Becaâs, this time more needy than before. Sighing into the kiss, she tilts her head deepening the kiss, her fingers threading through Becaâs hair.
The brunette responds in kind, her hands moving to slide its way down to Chloeâs waist. The redhead had changed into a tank top and pyjama pants earlier as they got ready for bed, and she curses but also praises herself, as she feels Beca run her hands along the waistband of the tank.
Pulling back, her lips rest against Becaâs, her breathing heavy.
âPlease.â
And it only takes that one word for Beca to start raising the top up along Chloeâs abdomen.
|-|-|
A/N: And thatâs part 3 folllkkksss! I hope you enjoyed it⌠Fair warning we have a bit of a spicy chapter coming next ;)
Apologies for any mistakes! And once again thank you to those who have liked and commented, it means the world to me. Until next time!
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I actually wonder what to do next. what do people even Post in fandoms like this one. how do I feed the fellow fans? angst? shitposts? memes? titties? crossovers and modern aus? do you guys like comics?
#li.txt#my brain is a bit of a dried raisin atm#I have some Professional Obligations but other than that...#the ink pic is doing well do yall wanna see me mess around with that more?#or do you want me to actually put my entire artussy into some comics and aus#i love comics okay they just take a while#the askbox is open if you want to!!#might actually be better than replying to this since I have this as a side account#and it always feels awkward to reply with main cause tumblr wont let you choose which account youre replying with#this is so ranty omg
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Okay so basically the United States MINT of all people is going to be working with DC to make a line of coins! These coins sadly won't be in circulation (the things I would do to live in a world where I could get Batman coins from the supermarket) as they're collectors coins, but will be releasing over the course of the next 3 years, 2025-2027.
Designs haven't been released yet (the same is true for all 2025 designs) but we know there will be 9 coins in total (3 each year) with the first year featuring (of course!!!) Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman.
Although we know the first three heroes to be featured, the remaining six have yet to be decided, and it turns out the Mint is putting out a survey on their site to gauge which of a group of culturally significant heroes people want to see most! (link to the form is mentioned in the article above)
The considered group includes: Supergirl, the Flash, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Captain Marvel, John Stewart GL, Aquaman, Hawkman, Jamie Reyes BB, Robin (Damian?), Cyborg, and Batgirl, of which 6 will be selected.
As someone who does a bit of coin collecting myself (mainly circulation coins like the quarters sets, but I also have a couple proof and collectors coins) I think this is a really cool and interesting idea that showcases the history of the comics medium and these characters and their influence on American culture. Really excited to wait and see what the designs look like for the coins already announced!
#ABSOLUTELY INSANE TO ME#sorry just. only thing that could make this crazier is if these were circulating. i would fucking die actually lmao#i mean you could buy something with one of these legally but like youre an idiot if you do that so likeeee#someone showing up with the solid gold superman collector coin and its only legally worth a dollar lmao#not that someone would do this but future generations/archeologists finding a coin in some ruins and it just has like. batman on it#amazing to me#also just the transition from us currency having all fake people (lady liberty some random native american guy etc.) and then going to real#people and presidents then expanding that to honor people that they believe should be honored (think the harriet tubman coin set right now)#and representing beauty and innovation and culture through representation of the states#only through that lens to swing back around and have fake people on the coins again in the form of the freaking dc trinity. insane to me#no one ever gets me when im nerding out over coins its okay. at least its not postage stamps (i actually do have some special postage stamps#its like 1 sheet though it was for the 2017 eclipse and the image changes from totality to the moon with the heat of your finger theyre so#cool okay) anyways i like dont really know that much abt coins lol i originally saw a post abt this on reddit đ lol and had to check this#was real which is insane. anyways my dad got my all my coin stuff ive got a proof set from the year i was born albums to hold the 50 states#and national parks (america the beautiful but its 90% natl park designs lets be honest here) quarter collections as i find them irl#(dont have an album for us women yet sadly but do have some of the coins) as well as a few dimes and other circulation albums i havent used#much. and then i have a few collectibles like the hubble telescope $1 coin the 50th anniversary apollo 11 one and the 2021 anniversary peace#dollar. though like not the gold ones or anything like that lol but yeah. i talk abt coins every once and a while with friends and i know#things but then my dad is in the car and its like nevermind lol.#also put a ? after damian's name bc theres a chance it could be dick and they just used the wrong picture. because some of the character#bios had names but his didnt and seemed very dick grayson (acrobatics mention âbatman's partnerâ etc) but not so specfic exclude either one#and the pick was damian. but then the ollie pick was goateeless for some reason so who knows#culturally dick is more important but dami is current so idk#dc comics#blah#ive really been learning so much today. first all in announcement and subsequent leaks and now this. what a ride#also love how im anticipating and know future comics things lol. when did that happen haha. ive really transitioned from only reading back#issues and never knowing current events to following a lot of releases lol and somehow finding out about the freaking coin collection...#crazy how that happens#cant scroll up at that first image without losing it a bit still actually. what a world we live in. anyways take your bets who is gonna be
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Today marks 10 years since I first really stepped into the Eddsworld fandom and went through an event with it.
But it also happened to be first anniversary of its creator's passing. This year marks the 10th.
I figured 13 year old me wouldn't want to feel alone in that moment, so I made this to join her and go through the flow together.
Without Edd and Eddsworld, I don't think I would've had that accessible foundation, can-do mindset and enthusiastic influence, admiration and desire to animate and make stories of my own. I was a year too late when I first entered into the fandom and heard about it, but these past 10 years taught me it's never too late to make an impact and tell your tales - no matter how long they'll take.
Thank you Edd Gould. For everything.
#chris rambles#my creations#i sobbed a lot while making this and dealing with CSP crashing a few times during progress#long post#Edd Gould really did say to a friend that last set of green lines if you hit the readmore#it doesn't feel right to tag the fandom this time#EDIT: okay so i've got myself to cry a little more and put myself together#and boy howdy i understand now what it means when an emotional overload impedes your communication#(is annoyed at spelling+grammar mistakes in-comic and description but no i'm not gonna change it)#my god this fandom had both the best of times and worst of times - moreso fandom troubles than personal but still#fun fact: i got to meet a good bunch of the EWFM crew back in the day through the years and some are still good friends of mine#(this is when things were FINE and NOT WEIRD i'm talking early-mid 2010's here people)#some are moreso acquaintances and most just drifted away (that's fair!)#only one of them i know for a fact either one of us would take a bullet for the other (and if you're curious he was a lead role VA)#(won't say who for privacy but listen. A. if you're reading this: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I AM SO GLAD WE ARE FRIENDS)#yeah the friendship goes that deep and he makes me happy to say that I'm his friend#(he's also the only one of all the online friends i've mailed and penpaled to - who has sent stuff back. Nobody else but him.)#i need to chill now my goodness#there's so much ahead of me now bc of what my time in Eddsworld gave and I'm so so grateful <3
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seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic
pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader
summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!
warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)
a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)
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âPleaseeeee,â Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. Itâs almost comical how heâhead of the biggest clan in Jujutsuâis leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. âWill you come with me?â
The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. âSatoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.â Youâre both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.
Mind you, youâre the more rational one between you and Satoruâin fact, most of the people who know you would agree that youâre a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threatsâpowerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.
At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. âPleeeease,â he drags out, practically whining. âI have separation anxiety.â
You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for himâhours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. âI donât know, SatoruâŚâ you murmur, hesitating.
But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. âDonât make me go in there alone!â he says, his voice muffled. âYou have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. Iâm already one step away from wanting to kill them all.â
A sigh escapes you as you realize heâs not letting up. And while youâre reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinionâone of the few he truly valuesâmight actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. âAlright, alright,â you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene."Â
His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that youâre not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white heâs smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in.Â
As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, whoâs shifting the gear. âPut the divider up.â
âO-Okay, Gojo-san.â A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husbandâs voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.
âSatoru!â you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows youâre always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.
âMy pretty wife,â he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. âSo pretty, so supportive.â
Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. âSatoru, we shouldnât be doing this here. We need to discuss what to saââ
âFuck that,â he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.
âNo, butââ
His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. âBaby, you know I value what you have to say,â and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, âbut I wanna listen to something else.â
He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. âSatoru,â you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.
âYea, thatâs what I wanna hear,â he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your pantiesâ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. âMy good girl.â
As heâs touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure youâre in and youâre desperately praying to God Ijichi canât hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. Youâre just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoruâs dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. Itâs like heâs devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers.Â
Between kisses, you try to get out a âSatoruâmmph,â smooch, âwe shouldnât beâmmâ smooch, âshouldnât be doing this here!âÂ
âWhat,â he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fuckerâs trying to toy with you, knows what heâs doing is mischievous. âI canât touch my wife?â
Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. âWeâre here, Satoru we need to goâ-â As youâre trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.
Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.
With his oh-so-irritating eyesâthe same ones that you spent despising in your early school yearsâhe looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. âI canât believe you just did that.â
He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didnât bump your head against the carâs ceiling. âLetâs go and deal with those hags, my love.â
To be honest, you donât really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. Heâs on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as youâre about to take a seat next to Gojoâbeing mindful of your kimono so you donât flash any of these old bastardsâone of them speaks up.Â
âGojo-sama, why is this woman here?â
You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoruâs jaw clenched. But right as heâs about to say something, you cut in for him. âThis woman,â and you smile, deceptively sweet, âis the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.â You donât need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until youâre basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.
Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukunaâs vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under.Â
Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, âWhat is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.â
In your life, youâve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husbandâs charm. Satoru knows what heâs doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck.Â
a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorryÂ
The indecency of all of itâ-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, thatâs my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?â-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that youâd only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoruâs hands start rubbing your fold. Itâs a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless.Â
Itâs just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. âOh you liked that, didnât you?â
âI hate you,â you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoruâs circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoruâs arms engulfing you as youâre forced to take whatever touches heâs giving you under the table.Â
âSheâs so loud,â he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond.Â
A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. âGojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.â
Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. âCanât my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone elseâs in this room, after all,â he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. âBesides,â and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, âwerenât you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?âÂ
At this point, youâve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm.Â
âBut guess what,â and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, âwe can solve that problem right here, right now.â He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.
It seems that no oneâs seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojoâs suggestion was. âIt is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!â one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage.Â
Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. âThen donât bring it up all the time, old man.â Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so heâs running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. âActually, what about this? You all havenât witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?â He smirks. âWhat about witnessing the heir-making next time?â
general masterlist
a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P
comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3
#divider by cafekitsune#aashi writes#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru
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I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.
Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.
Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?
Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away
He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe itâs the way he thinks heâs always right. Maybe itâs that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over youâhis musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. Heâs everywhereâand not just metaphoricallyâliterally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you canât help but admit that thereâs something about itâŚsomething about him.Â
You want him. Bad. And although you wonât admit it, youâve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, heâs not so much a nuisance as much as heâs a distraction.Â
You just had to be sent on this mission with Loganâthis ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. Youâre certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett.Â
His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he wouldâwish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway andâ
âYou okay, darlinâ?â His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. âYou seem awfully distracted.â
You swallow your embarrassment and hope he wonât pick up on how fast your heart is beating. âIâm fine, just tired,â you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what heâs doing. He has to know how much you want him.Â
He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. âToo tired for the mission, bub? Weâre almost at the motel, donât worry.â The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. Youâre putty in his hands.Â
He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. âThis okay?â He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know itâs just to support your coverâyou and Logan are posing as a married coupleâbut you canât help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more.Â
God, you are so fucked.Â
Youâre so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed.Â
You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you.Â
âThatâs perfect,â he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesnât budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room.Â
The room isâŚsmall. Thereâs one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean.Â
âI should freshen up,â you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Loganâs as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag.Â
The bathroom isnât horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bagâwhich, naturally, you forgot to pack.Â
âAh fuck,â You mutter louder than you meant to.Â
You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. âYou okay?â You can sense the concern in his voice, and you canât help but smile.Â
âYeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.â Thereâs more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Loganâs bag zip.Â
âYou want my shirt?â He asks, standing just outside the door now.Â
âIâd feel bad, then youââ Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself.Â
You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed.Â
âTh-thanks for theâŚâ You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt.Â
Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that canât possibly be.
He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. âYou look good.â But he doesnât stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. âIâll sleep on the floor,â he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him.Â
âLetâs just share the bed,â you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But thereâs no response, just the running of water from the sink.Â
You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesnât take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open.Â
You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. âBy the way, youâre not sleeping on the floor, donât be ridicââ Youâre too stunned to say another word. Youâve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but thereâs nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now.Â
 He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. âAm I really that scary?â He closes the distance between the two of you.Â
You try to play dumb. âW-what are you talking about?â
âEvery time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.â
You swallow roughly. âI d-donât know what youâre talking about, Logan.â But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means.Â
His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. âYeah, you do, darlinâ,â he says. âYou afraid of me or something?â God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself.Â
ââMânot afraid of you,â you whisper. âCould never be afraid of you.âÂ
He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. âWhat is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?â Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. âYeah, I think thatâs it.â Heâs towering over you, caging you in.Â
âItâs more than that,â you admit.Â
He cocks his head to the side. âOh yeah? What?â He wonât let that be enoughâyou know he wonât. Heâll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. Youâre not even sure you can form another complete sentence.Â
âI-itâs just you,â you finally choke out.Â
But itâs not enough for him. âWhat about me?â
Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. âLogan, IâŚâ But you canât. Iâm not in love, thatâs what youâve been trying to convince yourself of for months. Â
âGo on, say it. Whatâs got you going?â He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. âUse your words, sweetheart.âÂ
Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. Heâs everything and heâs everywhere. Heâs in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. Heâs warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours.Â
And then finally, it comes out.
âI want you, Lo.â
You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isnât teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldnât want this. That maybe someone wouldnât want him.Â
So, you say it again. âI want you, Logan.âÂ
He shuts his eyes. âFuck.âÂ
And then heâs pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. Heâs exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head.Â
He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adamâs apple bob in his throat. âThis okay?â He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. âFuck, pretty girl,â he mumbles. âYouâre so fucking beautiful.âÂ
His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly.Â
âLo, please. Need you,â is all you can say.Â
He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away.Â
âPlease,â you beg again.Â
He comes up for a moment. âPlease what?â He asks before moving on to the other side.Â
âNeed you so bad,â You whimper. But he doesnât stop. âN-need you to touch me.â
He pauses again. âThink Iâm already doing that, darlinâ. Gonna have to be more specific.âÂ
âFuck me, please.â Â
He shakes his head. âWanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.âÂ
You sit up a bit, ready to protest. âBut you are. Youâre making me feel soââ Youâre cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you.Â
Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. Youâre already squirming under his touch. âLo,â You whimper. âPleaseâFuck!â Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.
âSo tight darlinâ. Gonna feel so good,â he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine.Â
Heâs taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.
âLo,â You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesnât answer. He keeps going as if heâs gotten lost in you, as if thereâs nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. âLo, please,â you moan again.Â
He chuckles against your core. âPlease what, pretty girl?â He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.
âM-more,â you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. âNo donât stop, please donât stop.âÂ
He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. âWanna take my time with you, darlinâ.â
âY-you c-can,â You stutter. âW-whatever you want. Just need more.â
âMore?â He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.Â
âYes, please.â But you know by the look in his eyes that youâre getting more than you bargained for.Â
He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. Itâs overwhelming, and you know he isnât going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out.Â
âThis what you wanted?â He teases.
âLo, Iââ Itâs too much, you canât speak.Â
âIâve got you darlinâ. Iâm right here. Youâre doing so good for me.â His words by themselves practically send you over the edge.Â
ââMâso close Logan,â You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers.Â
âI know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?âÂ
You canât even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue.Â
âLook so beautiful like this darlinâ. So fucking beautiful,â He husks. And thatâs all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like itâs a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm.Â
He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that heâs on top of you. Heâs absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. âYou alright sweetheart?â He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead.Â
âHm,â You hum. âLike you like this.â
Thereâs that cocky smirk again. âLike what?â
âO-on top of me,â You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.
He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. Andâfuckâheâs big. âGonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?â
âP-please,â you stutter.Â
He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesnât let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You canât help but arch your back to meet his chest.Â
Everything is slow. Heâs taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles.Â
His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. âWanted this for so long,â he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. âAlways wanted you, darlinâ.â You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire.Â
âWanted you too,â You whisper against his lips between kisses.Â
His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. Heâs massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster.Â
He whispers praises in your ear. âYou feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlinâ. Always.âÂ
Always.Â
Itâs all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more.Â
âLogan, Iâm gonnaâŚâ You trail off, your walls tightening around him. Itâs all so overwhelming. But if youâre being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you.Â
He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. âI know darlinâ. Wanna feel you come on my cock.â He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too.Â
âLo,â You mumble. âItâs so good. Y-youâre so good, so b-beautiful.â Youâre a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what heâs doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted.Â
You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. âAlways wanted you,â he whispers again against the shell of your ear. âAlways gonna want you.âÂ
The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter.Â
âF-fuck,â he groans. âWhere do you wantââ
You cut him off this time. âInside, please,â you pant. âSafe.â He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up.Â
âSo perfect,â he whispers. âSo fucking perfect.â
His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesnât pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them.Â
Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then.Â
Heâs the first to speak. âWhen I said alwaysâŚâ He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. âMâsorry I said it. This shouldnât happen again. It was a one-time thing and Iâ
âI meant it.â
You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But itâs not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. Itâs that other thing again. Longing.Â
âI meant it, too.âÂ
tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung
#logan howlett x reader#James Logan howlett x reader#Logan howlett smut#Logan howlett x reader smut#Logan howlett x you#Logan howlett x you smut#James Logan howlett smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x reader smut#wolverine smut#Logan howlett x reader one bed#wolverine x reader one bed
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yoo rose I started following you a little while ago and I really liked you. I saw that your requests are open and I would like to ask for a scenario where Nanami arrives drunk and his wife takes care of him while he talks about how he loves her I liked all your stories with my businessman <3
unsteady love â nanami kento x f!reader
a/n: so glad that you do, love! <33 hope you like this one too đŤśđŤś
kento stumbles slightly into your house, catching himself against the wall before you steady him, âkento⌠youâre drunk.â
he blinks down at you, the usually serious expression on his face replaced by something softer, more relaxed. thereâs a faint flush coloring his cheeks, and he lets out a low, rumbling chuckle.
âI am not drunk,â he declares, his voice slurred just enough to betray him. âIâm... justââ he waves his hand vaguely in the air, searching for the right word. â...enlightened.â
you suppress a smile and guide him to the couch, sitting him down gently. âsure, âenlightened.ââ you shake your head, amused. âstay put, Iâll get you some water.â
as you move to the kitchen, you hear him muttering to himself. âcanât believe Iâm drunk,â he grumbles, almost like heâs scolding himself, âwhat kind of a husband does that?â
when you return, cup in hand, heâs sitting with his head leaned back against the couch, his eyes half-closed. but when you approach, he perks up immediately, watching you with a soft, slightly dazed look.
âyouâre so beautiful,â he says. his voice is quieter, more sincere, and it catches you off guard for a second. nanami isnât exactly shy about how he feels, but this is a side of him you donât see often.
âdrink,â you instruct, handing him the water to avoid the sudden rush of emotions his words bring. he takes the glass without complaint, but even as he drinks, his eyes never leave you.
after a few sips, he sets the glass down on the table and leans back again, sighing contentedly. âyou take such good care of me,â he says softly, almost to himself, âI donât deserve you.â
you chuckle at the sudden sentimental turn. âkento, youâre acting like Iâve just saved your life. you had a few drinks. you will be okay.â
he shakes his head, looking at you with those hazy, half-lidded eyes. âit is serious. youâre always here for me. always... my constant. myâŚâ he trails off, struggling for the right words in his drunken haze, âyou make everything better. I love you.â
his words are raw, unfiltered by the usual restraint he keeps on his emotions. thereâs a vulnerability in the way he says it that makes your heart tighten.
âI love you too,â you reply, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. ânow, letâs get you cleaned up.â
but before you can pull away, he grabs your wrist gently, pulling you closer. âno, you donât get it.â heâs more insistent now, his eyes fixed on yours with an intensity thatâs surprising given his state. âI really love you. I think about it all the time, allâthe time.â
you laugh softly, though his words tug at something deep inside you. âyou can tell me all about it when youâre sober.â
he doesnât let go, though, his grip still gentle but firm. âI mean it. you make the worst days worth it. you... youâre everything.â
a soft laugh escapes you, touched by his sincerity but also aware of how much the alcohol is loosening his tongue. âI know, kento. youâve told me before.â
nanami poutsâa rare expression that looks so out of place on his usually stoic face. âbut I donât say it enough. you deserve to hear it.â
he blinks sloppily as he stares at you before murmuring, "I need to marry you."
you let out a soft laugh and kiss his cheek, "we are married, you silly man."
in a once in a lifetime incident, your husband stares at you, eyes wide, face reddening by the second. he looks down at his feet for a few moments, then you see him hum, "that's nice."
his seriousness is almost comical given the state heâs in, and you canât help but tease him a little. ây'know, youâre awfully chatty for someone who insisted they werenât drunk.â
he lets out a sigh, leaning his head back again and releasing your wrist, âfine, fine. maybe Iâm a little drunk. but it doesnât change the fact that Iââ
before he can finish, he shifts too quickly and almost topples off the couch. you rush to catch him, but you fall with him, and he blinks, disoriented, before breaking into a lopsided smile. âmaybe a lot drunk.â
âyeah, maybe,â you say with a laugh, helping him sit back up. âcome on, letâs get you to bed.â
as you help him to his feet, he leans heavily against you, his arm draped over your shoulder. you guide him down the hallway, his weight familiar but the situation still amusingly foreign.
normally, heâs the one doing the taking care ofâyou canât help but relish this rare moment where the roles are reversed.
once youâve managed to get him into bed, he pulls you down next to him, refusing to let go of your hand. his eyes, though heavy with sleep, remain fixed on you with that same soft, adoring look.
âyouâre the best thing that ever happened to me,â he mumbles, his voice thick with exhaustion and sincerity, âwe have to go to malaysia together.â
âsure,â you smile, brushing your fingers through his hair as his eyes finally flutter shut. âgoodnight, kento.â
just as youâre about to pull away, his hand tightens around yours once more, and he whispers, half-asleep, âI love you.â
his words are softer now, less dramatic than before but still brimming with emotion.
you watch him for a moment, his features relaxed in the dim light, and feel a warmth spread through your chest. this side of himâunguarded, affectionate, and a little sillyâis one you cherish just as much as his usual seriousness.
as he drifts off, you press a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting his words linger in the air, âI love you too.â
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academic rivals request! viktor x fem!reader, nsfw
request: @4-leafed pls... if u have time pls write a viktor x reader that r both geniuses at the academy but very much toe the line of rivalry and sexual tension...i love competitive smart people that fall in love when the rivalry becomes respect ... and they FREAK IT!!! possibly in a lab ! up to you : 3c
i liked this request so much that i ended up writing a decent-ish one-shotâŚ.
rating: explicit
word count: 3,5k
warnings: academic rivals. LOTS of dialogue and bickering. dubious science because i skipped it in school, had to do some basic chemistry revision to write this pornographic catastrophe, so please pat me on the back. rough sex? rough⌠foreplay, thatâs for sure. dirty talk, if you can call bickering that. penetration. reader tries to slap viktor, spits in his mouth and he cums in his pants. normally, i only write vanilla stuff, so i have no idea how it turned out THIS kinky (at least for me okay). not proofread (yet). nsfw under the cut:
â
âHow do you take your coffee?â
His voice betrays the feeble intention of civility, fusing that polite inquiry into a hissâa phonetical torture you didnât even know could occur before. So much for killing you with kindness. Outstaging quips by desecrating courtesies.Â
âI donât care,â you mutter on autopilot. Canât let him in on any personal preferences, no matter how insignificant. âJust donât put arsenic in it.âÂ
Viktor scoffs. Puts the kettle away and peers at you over his shoulder, all wretchedly complacent.Â
âSo the rest of the periodic table is welcome, I presume?âÂ
Viktor. The local Nikola Tesla knock-off. Never a moment of peace with him; and the fierce taste of competition grows coppery in your mouth whenever heâs in your sightâthe most handsome trigger of your cheek-biting reflex.
His name is an insult on your lips and you want to taste it. Chew it, crush it with your teeth and spit right out, preferably aiming for those poignant eyes seeking you in every classroomâso eager to light up with objection the second your opinion differs from his.Â
Always the first prick to disparage your input. A never-resting generator of all the meticulous ways to denounce your projects.Â
âIf I may.âÂ
Sickeningly polite, too. With that lithe finger pointing in the airâ so irritatingly comical. He may not, but there isnât a chance heâll shut up, now, is there?
And so heâd clear his throat, straightening his tie in that ridiculously solemn fashion. As if stepping on a pedestal to deliver a life-changing speechânot some shallow nitpicking regarding your circuit breakers. All eyes on him while his kept staring only into your soul. Special treatment, if you will.Â
You will not.
âUsing magnetic frames is careless,â heâd state. With his hand imposingly pointing to the blueprint on your slide. âCopper coils may oxidize. Not to mention the overheating. I would use thermoplastics. Theyâre significantly more efficient. And heat-resistant.â
Oh please. Like someone here gives a shit about what youâd use.Â
But you canât say that. Not in a room full of professors. And, judging from the countless nods of approval, the shits were, in fact, being given.Â
âToo risky,â you oppose. âThermoplastics often degrade at high temperatures. Electric insulation is not worth the damage of releasing hydrocarbons. I assumed that youâd be aware of that, Viktor. But I suppose that was an omission on my part.âÂ
More nods of approval, now in your favour. Here it goes againâthe ever-lasting spectacle of hatred. Elegant, when entertaining the audience. Anything but discreet, in private. A perpetually drawn game of chess. By repetition, not agreement. Both of you refuse to retreat until checkmate.Â
Oh yes, the sentiment was mutual. You and Viktor were notorious for tearing at each other's throats. The things youâd sacrifice to make that more than a mere metaphor, though. To pull him by that neat tie to sweet asphyxiation and hear him rasp for mercy with eyes full of pathetic condemnation. And he dreamed of that, too. His cane was itching to give you a smackâto paint your behind a plum so deep youâll have troubles sitting without wincing. When it came to making metaphors literal, heâd pick being the pain in your ass.
However, your mentors couldnât care less about the rivalry. The Collegiate Inventors Competition was coming up. And who could possibly make better candidates than two greatest minds of the engineering department, with academic excellence so accurately neck and neck that both of your names now occupy the honorary first place in every ranking table?Â
Thatâs how you ended up with your sentenceâthree weeks of after-hours cooperation in the lab with the incorrigible bastard himself, a quarter of which youâd already successfully wasted on pointless bickering. Well, not without achieving some common grounds. The choice of prototype landed on one of your personal ambitionsâa wearable exoskeleton for post-surgery rehabilitation, with plenty of robotics involved. Endorsed by Viktor, for once. The greater good must have swallowed even his dispute. Off to a nice start, if someone were to ask you.
However, the first issues struck early: on the very stage of development. Viktor volunteered for modelling: meaning, the framework would be custom, to accommodate his spine specifically. An object lesson for everyone involved, it would seemâbut only in an ideal world. Which, considering what you had at hand (acrimony, bitterness, an entire picky bit of gall), was filtered out by default.
Now, five gruesome days and whoâs-even-counting-anymore restarts later, youâre nowhere near close to at least a draft, yet borderline keen on murdering each other. And youâre certain the latter is approaching. He did just contemplate putting arsenic in your cup, after all.Â
Viktor stirs the coffee. Watches his reflection smudge in the dark, whirly water, shooting you an askance glance from beneath thick brows when you start stirring yoursâthe spoon clanking a tad too loud, as if you were doing it on purpose. Which, you undoubtedly were.Â
âStop that,â he groans, almost leaping out of his chair. Heavy, disturbed gaze meets your cheeky simper. âYou donât have to stir it so thoroughly. Itâs not like you take it with sugar anyway.â
âOf course.â You shrug. âI donât drink slop.â
âOh, I figured. Thereâs nothing sweet about you, so why would your coffee be any different?â
âThereâs plenty of sweetness about me. I simply donât squander it on entitled pricks.âÂ
That finally grounds him. And youâre giddy for the way his sturdy hand grips the cup so hard that it almost shatters into his palm, knuckles growing pale enough to match the porcelain. More so when you take a loud, languid sip, feigning innocence. Fully wallowing in his darling, defeated speechlessness.Â
âExcuse you,â he mutters. âEntitled?!âÂ
âSo you agree with the âprickâ part?âÂ
âYes, and I take great pride in it. You may mark me flustered.âÂ
âDonât forget to bust in your pants.â
Viktor sneers: chapped lip twitching, scowl growing defensive. Lanky legs untangle as he rises to his feet, towering above you in an angry lean on his caneâlong frame transforming into your personal, scrawny menace, pissed exhale sharp and nasal above your head. And you admit to looking small beneath himâall hunched shoulders, weak smile finally tumbling lopsided.Â
âDonât you dare call me entitled,â he demandsâand means it. Itâs palpable in the way he twists the handle of his cane, the squeaky sound violently scratching your brain. âI sweated blood to achieve my privileges in this establishment.â
You huff, rolling your eyes. âSo did I, and yet you keep ordering me around as if Iâm some braindead apprentice. Weâre counterparts, Viktor. Youâre supposed to be mindful of my perspective.â
âI never see you being mindful of mine,â he counters.
And, well. You canât argue with that.Â
Your coffee break continued in avoidant silence, but the ambience simply reeked of hostilityâstifling enough to make you leave the lab feet first. The deadlineâs chokehold besieging your neck wasnât of any help, eitherâyou had to submit the draft for approval by Sunday. And, so far, you havenât even agreed on the design plan.Â
You shoot Viktor a reluctant glance. Pensive, he sat slouched over his parchment, emitting pure peril. Like his shoulder blades might stab you if you attempt a single tap, belligerently peeking through the thin shirt. You tucked your lip under your teeth, chewing hard, tongue running over every small, neurotic wound inside your mouth. Fruitless negotiations held a special spot amongst your least favourite endeavours, but this conundrum called for a desperate measure.
âViktor.â You winced at how chocked up it came out. He noticed that, tooâbecause of course he didâturning in his chair to nod at you, ever so shit-eatingly. Lancing eyes scrutinised their way up to your face. What an affront.Â
âYes?â Always chiding in that condescending tone of his. Hissy âsâ echoed in the lab, gnawing at your nerves.Â
âWe have to submit something by the end of this week. Letâs at least decide on the blueprint.âÂ
âFine.â He shrugged, returning to his sketch. âWeâre going with mine.âÂ
âNo!â You snapped. âWeâre coming up with a new one. Together.âÂ
Viktor hummed in mock consideration. The strand of hair heâs been twirling unraveled, claiming more attention than you deemed him worthy of. Sighing, he lazily reached for your graph, frowning as his eyes started skimming over the scribbles. You made your way to the desk, claiming a spot behind his shoulder. That required a tacit truce.Â
âYou really want to wield⌠hydraulic actuators?â He winced, looking up at you. Had your breath hitching at that respectful attempt, the effort prominent in the very way he uttered those wordsâas if struggling to filter out swear ones.Â
âYes,â you mustered. âFor high power.âÂ
âBut theyâre so heavy.â Â
âWell, what would you use?âÂ
He chuckledârich and malicious. Flipped the page and finally averted those curious eyes, arching a bushy brow.Â
âI thought no one gave a⌠crap about what Iâd use.âÂ
Oh, well. It felt nice while it lasted.Â
âHow did you evenââ
âYou ought to be more discreet with your vitriol,â he retorted. âIâll let you know that Iâm a decent lip-reader.âÂ
âThen donât stare at my mouth next time. What would you use, Viktor?âÂ
Now that left you both startled. His fingers stilled above the diagram, flexing in disbelief, hollow cheeks hued a puzzled rouge as you almost chomped your tongue off, showing an embarrassed curse back into the depth of your throat.Â
âAhem. Electric motors,â he chanted, pretending to overlook the slip-up. And for once, you were grateful for his tact.Â
âI see. Well, er⌠put that down, please.âÂ
He instantly complied, fetching a pen. Left you to reflect on your misery to the rhythmic sound of his scrawling, pressing a sweaty palm to his forehead.Â
âRight.â He sighed. âWhat about the power supply?â
âRechargeable batteries?â You suggested weakly. âLithium-ion.â
âVery well. Frame?â
âSomething durable. Titanium?âÂ
âAbsolutely not,â he scoffed, pushing the notes away. âWhy must you always insist on using the heaviest equipment?â
âI donât know, corrosion resistance?â You muttered back, hovering over him. âBiocompatibility?â
âThatâs perfectly manageable with carbon fiber!â
âSo it shatters after the tiniest bump? Bravo, Viktor, how ingenious.âÂ
He lurches forwardârigid breath quivering over yours. Close enough to crush that thick skull with your foreheadâif only you ventured, that is. But, alas, youâre not as brave just yet. Some brief eye-stabbing is about all youâre good for.Â
âFine,â he agrees, pulling away. âWeâll use aluminium alloys. Corrosion resistant and easy to machine. No one wins. Does that suffice?âÂ
âYes. Now will you finally let me take your measurements for the sketch?â
He doesnât answerâat least not verbally. Merely stands up and nods to the measuring tape, face still heavily contorted with displeasure. But you donât oblige just yet. How can you, when Viktorâs fingers suddenly reach for his collar, fumbling with the button? Andâoh noânow theyâre sliding lower, reiterating once, twice, thrice, until his chest (flushed, but that might just be wishful thinking) is fully peeking out, teasing the smooth scrap of ivory skin.Â
âWhat⌠are you doing?â You mumble, utterly startled.Â
ââŚUndressing?â He says matter-of-factly, looking up at you so askance as if youâd just asked him if the sky is blue. One more ministration and the shirt is neatly folded next to the parchmentâwaiting for you to be through with the measurements to be slid back on his bony shoulders.Â
âThat, I can tell,â you mumble. âWhy did you undress?â
Viktorâs gaze daggers into you again. âDonât tell me you were actually intending to measure me clothed? Can you not comprehend precision?â
âPrecision?â
âThe prototype is expected to cling to me. I donât see how that���s achievable with my shirt onâ I assumed that was rather obvious.â
âShut the fuck up.âÂ
âAh, sweet civility. I even started worrying that other entitled pricks mustâve depleted your decorum, but it seems like you saved some up for me after all. Iâm flattered, reallyââÂ
You donât even register when it happens.
Next thing you see is Viktor seizing your wristâsternly yanking your slap off his face before it gets the chance to land there in a flared handprint. Nothing but pure rage and pricklinessâright where his short nails are lancing your skin, engraving an ugly bracelet youâll wear for hours.
Well, maybe there is something else. Something inexplicable, and tremendousâdeep in the way your eyes keep drifting southâwhere his pants sling low on defined hips, and the pretty trail of dark hair runs from navel to waistbandâno doubt circling exactly what you manage to make out in the convex slope of his crotch. And you want to slap him for that, tooâsonorous, and frenetic. Going in again with full force, but his force always turns out to be fullerâand in an instance he firmly twists your arm, pinning it behind your backâpale face barely five inches away from your flushed one.Â
What happens next is beyond any explanations. Later, heâll blame it on inertiaâthat stupid urge to maintain the speed, to stay in motion with your messy antics until some external force stops himâa simple need to claim you before the inevitable collision.
But thereâs no inertia in escalation. In the way his free hand grabs you by the nape and clashes agape mouths together, teeth bumping hard enough to make you consider booking a dentist appointment later. Not a sign of inertia when you grab him, eitherâa little clumsy through the sharp pain in your twisted armâbold fingers raking his scalp in a vengeful tug on his hair.Â
And itâs more than a kiss. If anything, it looks like youâre trying to eat himâtongue out and thrusting into his throat so fiercely that he gags on it, almost tearing up. Now you know what sheer desperation sounds like, and itâs grunting against your mouth, suddenly pitching to a pathetic moan when you grab a handful of chestnut hair and pull so hard that his eyes roll back, lean frame shaking under your violent approach. You use that startled momentum to try and pry your arm free, but he still keeps it in place.Â
âYouâre hurting me!â You hiss, attacking his neckâthe very one you always shamefully admitted to finding the sexiest any man can possess, and your teeth roughly pinch at his voice box, coaxing another whine.Â
âGood.â He groans with spite. âI hope I am.âÂ
And yet, he releases your aching arm, trading it for a calculated squeeze of your waist. But the audacity overshadows his little mercy. You instantly use the unrestrained privileges to force a finger into his mouthâastounded at the way he instantly opens up, almost mockingly pliant. More so when you spit on his tongue, sparing no shameâas if trying to rile him up beyond recognition. Grinning, when your saliva dribbles down his chin.Â
âAh.â He huffs, instantly licking up the remnants. âThank you. Ever so disrespectful.â
âYou havenât earned my respect,â you lie, nudging him towards the chair. Not even bothering to wait until he lands, impatient hands already messing with his beltâso treacherously earnest as you shake, unfastening the buckle, and the bastard chuckles at that, looking down at your eager work.Â
âThatâs a new low, then,â murmurs coyly, helping you into his lap, heavy head leisurely thrown back. âSleeping with someone you donât respect.âÂ
âFuck you.âÂ
âOh yes. Youâre about to.âÂ
You glare at him from under heavy lids, but the anger refuses to lingerânot when he stares back full of indignant awe, so clearly basking in your attention. With his cock half-springing out of undone pants, shamelessly twitching against your palm. And not a single breath was hitched to conceal his excitement.Â
âMust you always be so insufferable?â You reproach, pushing his hair backâtoo domestic for your own liking, and yet it doesnât feel unfitting. Especially when he leans into your hand, welcoming your touch on his sweaty foreheadâlike he wanted you to feel it fever up with want.
âNo.â He shakes his head. âBut if it can grant me this, Iâll triple the effort.âÂ
âWhat happened to new lows? You donât have a fraction of respect for me, either.â
âYouâre right.â He shrugs. âFractions could never encapsulate my tribute to you.â
And his hand slipped under your skirt, shakily crawling homeâprecisely where youâd never confess to needing him a mere minute ago. But the sentiment did a decent job at diluting your rancour. There came no protest when he introduced two long fingers into your underwear, openly gasping at the evident dampness. And you allowed him that with no regrets. Moreover, you helpfully sank yourself knuckle deep, wincing at the brief burn, arms wrapping around his neck as he sweetly looked up, seeking your permission. Which was instantly found in the pretty moan you spilled into his mouth, slick tongues back at their futile attempts to strangle each other.Â
However, your patience was running thin. As much as you wanted to indulge in proper foreplay, whatever masochistic dance he exposed you to had you in agony ever since it startedâand it was getting unbearable to ignore the ache, no matter how bad Viktor craved to postpone the main course.Â
Your thighs clenched hard as you crouched above him, fingers wrapping around the hilt to awkwardly line the tip up with your cuntâthe slick sound of it slowly sliding down suddenly igniting some tender bashfulness. Like you didnât just spit in his mouth with a vile smirk. Like he never had to confine you from slapping him in the face.Â
That stretch felt different from the one after his fingers. Significantly richer, it made you whineâa pitiful sound reverberating against his skin as you held on tighter and allowed him to bottom out, savouring every little crevice inside you. Raw, yet neither of you seemed to careâthat concern was pushed alongside your underwear, then forgotten altogether when your walls clenched him, offering tight bliss.Â
âMove,â you demanded, grabbing him by the chin. Viktor rasped something back, but you didnât catch itâalready too busy tongue-fucking his pretty neck, turning your teeth into sharp tools ready to stain it mauve with bites.Â
And he complied again. One hand trembled on your hip while the other crawled between your legsâfirst missing your clit in the chaotic pace of thrusts, then finding it again as it grazed his fingertips. So cheeky when he dared to pinch it, avenging every pull on his hair. Though, he couldnât gloat in your wince. Not when it clearly was one of the pleasured kind.Â
But you didnât feel like letting him regain composure. You already missed his husky groansâached to test what else fucking you could make him mutter. Fogy gaze found his face again, softening at the sightâall wet forehead full of concentrated creases and thin lips bitten to bloodless paleness.Â
You took over. Let him lean back and rest as you roughly rode him into the chairâand for that he gave you a grateful moan, the insistent thumb toying with your clit never stopping even for an instant. Good with his hands, and he knew itâproudly grinned when you struggled to keep going, taut legs treacherously giving up astride him.Â
That didnât please you in the slightest. You wanted him to be close, too: slid a hand up his chest and angrily tugged at one nippleâchortling when his mouth dropped in a stunned gasp. Bewildered, but he didnât mind itâamber eyes squeezed shut when his head lolled, and you finally got his lovely moans backâraspier than before, ravenous enough to make your head spin.Â
You could already feel it, pulsing somewhere deep within. Blurry vision couldnât make him out anymore, the lab smudging into a mess of weird shapesâyou were about to cum, hard, and Viktor threatened to follow suit any secondâhis thumb failing to hold steady, and yet the pressure was still there, courtlesly helping you chase that sweet relief. Such a gentleman.Â
âClose,â you chanted. âSo, so close.âÂ
âI know,â he answered, choking on a groan. âMe too.âÂ
And you melted, almost crushing him with your weight. Quivering in a spasm so intense that it had him struggling to keep moving, and yet he was mindful of the riskâused the last fractions of his brain capacity to gently nudge you off his cock and pump it fast and hectic. Cumming in one endlessly thick rope, with a moan so vocal that it reached you even through the layers of foggy, ear-buzzing aftermath. Had you shuddering when you clung off his shoulder, glassy eyes wide with trembling astonishment. You stared at him through the approaching wave of disbelief.Â
No signs of regret so far, or maybe it was simply still formingâfor now, you silently admired not a snarky bastard, but a pretty, fucked out boy beneath you.Â
âOh, would you look at that.â Viktor chuckled, sheepishly looking down. âI didnât forget.â
âWhat?â You mumbled in confusion, following his gaze.
And when it finally caught your attentionâsticky and relentlessly staining his pantsâyou slammed a hand over your mouth, muffling the hysterical laughter.Â
âAnd here I thought I finally fucked your remarkable memory out.â
âOh, by no means. As, eh⌠intense as that was, that misery of mine is not going anywhere. However,â he trailed off, his hand skittishly moving towards yours, âsex clearly proved beneficial for our⌠dynamic.â
You smile, sliding your palm into his warm grasp.Â
âCan it ensure us enough civility to win the competition?â
And Viktor scoffs, coyly looking you in the eye.Â
âWhy should we limit it to just that?âÂ
#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#viktor fanfic#viktor x reader smut#viktor arcane smut#viktor x fem!reader#arcane smut#viktor arcane x reader#no beta we die#viktor x f!reader
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can you do submissive reader x vi
oh my god vi who just loves how submissive you are for herâŚnsfw.
it was the little things that tipped her off about the other side of you sheâd yet to on see.
your relationship was new, only a few weeks since sheâd asked you to officially become her girlfriend. the two of you still hadnât had sex, only a few intense make outs that were promptly stopped when she notice your tense posture. she made sure you knew that sheâd never push you to do anything you didnât want to do.
but she had to admit that while being respectful she noticed things that made her eager to nudge you a bit. you were always a strong willed person who gave her a run for her money when it came to being stubborn, but behind closed doors she notice just how obedient you could be.
a lazy murmur of asking for a drink the next time you grabbed one was met with her hand filled with a glass of water before she could blink. a casual reminder not to forget your jacket in the morning and wrapping the fabric around your shoulders leads to a far off look in your eyes that she just canât ignore.
your first time together sheâs oh so sweet and gentle, asking repeatedly if youâre sure you want to go through with it while sheâs leaving trails of kisses up and down your body. but she can see how your anxiety deflates, how pliant your body becomes as she moves and guides different parts of you to her will.
and then with a desperate voice you beg her, give her the permission to do whatever she wants with you, that youâre literally aching for it. and how could she say no to that?
sheâs on cloud nine and sheâs dragging you up with her as she manipulates your body using her hands and words. a simple command to take off your clothes and lay down for her has you laid out on the bed willing and waiting for her.
you follow her instructions so smoothly it almost seems like you were made to do it, made specially to be obedient to her. a weird thrill goes down her spine at the thought and the same happens to you when she voices it, giving you endless praise about how well you follow her instructions.
âcmon, do one more for me, okay?â
her eyes nearly roll back into her skull at the sound of your whine mixed with the sound of her fingers thrusting into your cunt, the squelching and sloshing after multiple orgasms sheâs ripped out of you sending her brain into a frenzy.
âv-vi, please, violet, wanâ it, need you-â
she pushes her lips into yours to capture more of your moans while she groans into your mouth and speeds up her fingers, putting her all into giving you yet another orgasm. she feels your legs twitching against hers, your hands grasping and shaking against her back. right when she feels you about to trip over she pulls back and looks into your eyes to burn the look of you into her brain.
âcum for me, cum for me right now pretty girl,â
she barely finishes her sentence when your clamping down on her and moaning like sheâs tearing your soul from your body. she has to muffle her own sounds against your neck when she realizes youâre squirting against her hand and soaking the bed underneath.
once you both catch your breaths she finally loves her body from slouching into yours to flopping onto the bed next to you. you gently kick her when she sticks the fingers that were inside you into her mouth with a comical groan, laughing as you fake being upset at her crudeness.
âgods, youâre such a pervert.â
âsays the one whose shown me how obedient she is. you think if i ask to go again youâll let me?â
ââŚfor my own sanity iâm not going to answer that.â
vi chuckles. she canât wait to see just how pliant for her she can make you.
#god only a few more hours iâm going nuts#incredibly comedic timing that this got sent in when i was watching secretary for the first time#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane smut#vi#vi arcane#vi x reader#vi x reader smut
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â°â⤠đđđđđđđđ âż .á: While you're making dinner, you make a small offhand complaint about your husband's forgetfulness- however your children overestimate the seriousness of your tone and jump to conclusions, thinking you don't love their father anymore.
âż đđđđđđđđ: Fluffff, Satoru being a loving husband, you two are married, crack, kisses <33, you and Satoru have a daughter and a son, f!reader
âż đđđđđđđđ: Satoru Gojo x Reader
đđđđđ đđđđđđđđđđ: âż
You're more than a little sleepy, having just woke up, but besides their looks, if there was anything your kids inherited from their father, it was their appetite.
And thus, when they got hungry, they got hungry - which was why you were being dragged out of bed at the ungodly hour of 5am on your day off, your daughter and son whining that they wanted pancakes for breakfast.
Yawning, you make your way to the kitchen, your kids impatiently asking you to hurry up and you chuckle tiredly, groaning under your breath as you eye the stack of dishes in the sink that you definitely knew weren't there when you last checked.
"What's wrong Mommy?" your son asks, bright blue eyes staring at you with such an intensity you can't help but wonder is your husband asexually reproduced because his children are carbon copies of himself.
You roll you eyes playfully, adopting a faux grumpy face. "Weeelll.. your father forgot to do the dishes last night being the lazy potato he is...so Mommy's just a little annoyed." You say, being sarcastic obviously - Satoru had came home exhausted from a late night at work, and so being the loving wife that you were, you set out dinner for him, knowing he'd be too tired to wash the plate right after.
However, your kids don't detect the evident sarcasm in your voice, the two instead adopted identical frowns on their faces.
"Do you not love Daddy anymore?!" Your daughter asks, aghast.
"What-"
Your son takes his sister's hand in his with a comical amount of urgency.
"We gotta warn Daddy!" he says, and your daughter nods with the same urgency- the two children now bolting to your bedroom.
You groan - what was the point of dragging you out of bed if they were going to your room anyways?!
Sighing, you decide to continue making breakfast, knowing that with the appetite of your husband and children combined, you could probably feed an entire classroom.
You're just about done, adding the last pancake to the sizable stack you created when you feel two muscles arms wrap around your waist.
You chuckle softly, feeling fluffy locks of white hair tickle the skin of your neck as your husband peppers a few sleepy kisses to your shoulder, reveling in your warmth.
"Mmm...morning baby..." he murmurs and you hum, rubbing gentle circles into his forearm.
"Morning 'Toru... did you sleep okay?" you ask and Satoru nods, his answer a little muffled from his face still nuzzling into the crook of your neck.
"Yeah...wish I could've cuddled with you more though..." he whines, and you can feel his dramatic pout against your skin.
"Aww...poor baby...is there anything I can do to make you feel better?" You say teasingly.
Satoru grins."Well...there is one thing...maybe a kiss from my gorgeous wife..?" " he suggests, and you laugh, turning your head to press you lips against his, only for two pairs of little hand push your clingy husband away from you.
"No! Daddy's ours now!" Your daughter says adamantly, and you gape at her in mock offense.
"What?!" you say incredulously, and your son nods solemnly.
"You said that you didn't like Daddy because he doesn't wash the dishes!" he says, and Satoru raises a teasing eyebrow at you.
"You said what?" he asks teasingly and you cross your arms.
"I said nothing of the sort!" you say, but your kids are unfortunately extremely stubborn. "All I want is a little kiss, is that so bad?"
Your daughter exchanges a glance with her brother before running straight at you.
"Run! And take Daddy with you! I'll hold her off!" she yells, grabbing some random whisk off the counter and jabbing it playfully in your direction, acting like a sword.
However- you knew that there was no point in fighting back, there was no need.
Because if there was one thing that could beat your children's stubbornness, it was your husband's love for you, and his constant need to shower his pretty wife in endless affection.
Your point was proven the moment your husband and son barrel into the kitchen once more, the latter trying in a futile attempt to slow him down by clinging to his father's legs - a small "I couldn't stop him!" being cried out as your daughter sends him a dirty look. However, before she can do anything, the little girl in scooped up into her father's arms, trapped in his embrace, and squirming profusely and Satoru finally smashes his lips against yours in victory.
When he finally breaks apart, he's grinning at you with a cheesy grin, watching your breathless state with those gorgeous blue eyes you fell in love with. (Your kids are groaning in the background)
Satoru: 1
Kids: 0
A/N: LMAO they're all so silly - lord forbid they're all competing for your attention one day đ
đđđđđđđ: @tootiecakes234 @gina239 @its-liberty-frazblair @lilyadora @callmeanythingyouwant00
@milkm4nz @lightsgore @skaiblu-e @that-one-lightskin @hahajsphaha
@mcgriddleggs @beaniesayshi @abinformyobsessions @sharycatx3 @riririr11
@ladygojooo
#âËâżË° đ¤đđ'đŹ đđ¤ <đ á°.á âË#dividers by @taurusmagicka#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu satoru#satorugojo#gojo#jjk#jjk drabbles#jjk fic#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou satoru x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojou x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x you#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#satoru x you#satoru x reader#satoru x y/n
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â treasure
- gojo satoru x reader
the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them
genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort
note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!đ this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
"No!"
"Why? This helpsâ"
"That's ugly! I don't want to look uglyâlike you!"
Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.
Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.
However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.
"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm notâ"
"You are!"
Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!
When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of himâwith all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.
But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genesâclaiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.
That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.
"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you wouldâ"
Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.
His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes withâ" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "âthis!"
Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.
"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"
"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.
Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.
It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.
Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoruâ
His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, heyâbuddy, you okay?â
Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.
"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."
"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothingâs going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"
You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.
Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.
You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."
Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.
"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I haveâfor kids. We'll start with that."
Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a childâthe manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.
Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldnât let anything befall himâor you.
You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boyâs innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.
"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:
"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."
#đđđŁđ đđđĄđđđđ #gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabbles#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x you#gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fanfic#dad!gojo#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x you#gojo#gojo satoru imagines#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#jjk gojo#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru x reader
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Cute things the Batboys do in a relationship:
Dick Grayson (Nightwing)
Morning Texts: This dude lives for sending those âGood morning, beautiful â texts, usually with some goofy selfie where his hairâs a mess. He just wants to be the first thing you smile about.
Random Dance Breaks: If youâre in the kitchen or just standing around, Dick will 100% spin you around for a random dance. Heâll hum some random tune and make you laugh like itâs a movie moment.
Spontaneous Picnics: Out of nowhere, heâll hit you with a âmeet me at the parkâ text, and you show up to find heâs got a whole cute picnic setup. The dudeâs got snacks, a blanket, and everything ready like a rom-com lead.
Cuddle Monster: Watching a movie? Cuddling. Sitting on the couch? Cuddling. Heâs got an arm around you, pulling you into his chest every chance he gets. And donât even get me started on bedtimeâheâs glued to you.
Pet Names: Youâre never just your name. Itâs always âSweetheart,â âPrincess,â or something thatâll make you blush and roll your eyes. He loves seeing you react.
Jason Todd (Red Hood)
Cooking Shenanigans: Heâs lowkey a beast in the kitchen, but acts like he needs your help. Next thing you know, youâre tossing flour at each other, making a mess, and laughing like idiots.
Protective as Hell: Jasonâs that guy whoâll drape his jacket over you before you even realize youâre cold. If itâs raining, heâs got the umbrella over youâhe doesnât care if he gets soaked.
Books & Notes: Heâll leave books for you to read with little handwritten notes inside. Some are funny, some are deep, but heâs always thinking about you even when heâs not there.
Late Night Rides: Heâs all about taking you on rides around the city late at night. Itâs quiet, and the world feels like itâs just the two of you while the cool breeze whips by.
Forehead Kisses: Not super into PDA, but will definitely kiss your forehead when itâs just you two. It's his way of saying âI got youâ without saying a word.
Tim Drake (Red Robin)
Study Dates: Timâs ideal date is just chilling in a coffee shop, both of you working on stuff, but occasionally reaching over to hold hands or sneak in a quick kiss. Heâs not the clingy type, but loves quiet closeness.
Geeky Gifts: Heâs that guy whoâll surprise you with some gadget or comic you mentioned once. His memory for stuff you like is insane, and heâll always find something that makes you smile.
Random Nerd Facts: Youâll be mid-conversation and heâll just drop some random fact about the universe or tech that he knows will make you roll your eyes. He lives for those reactions.
Caring Vibes: Timâs the type to bring you tea when youâre stressed or randomly tell you to take a break. And when youâre sad? Heâll pull you into his lap without saying anythingâjust wants to make sure youâre okay.
Subtle Compliments: Heâs not super vocal, but youâll catch him staring at you, and when you ask why, heâll just casually be like, âYouâre stunning,â with the softest smile. Smooth af.
Damian Wayne (Robin)
Low-Key Sweet: Damian wonât say it, but he shows love in little ways. Your favorite snack? Heâll just get it. Something broken? Fixed. His love language is basically âsilent but effective.â
Learning Your Hobbies: Whatever youâre into, heâll make it his mission to learn it. You mention an interest? Bet, heâs researching it like itâs a case for Batman. Itâs his way of being involved without being obvious.
Animals Everywhere: Heâs constantly bringing over animals, like âThis cat needs to meet you.â If his pets like you, thatâs basically a proposal in Damian-speak. And they always like you.
Art Hangouts: He loves painting, so sometimes heâll invite you to join him, and it turns into a competition of who can make the dumbest art. Expect lots of teasing.
Acts of Service: He wonât say âI love youâ all the time, but youâll feel it in the way he does things for youâlike carrying your stuff, fixing something, or just being there when you need him.
#jason todd headcanons#batboys#tim drake headcanons#damian wayne headcanon#dick grayson headcanons#dick grayson#jason todd#batboys headcanons#tim drake#nightwing#damian wayne x reader#dick grayson x reader#jason todd x reader#tim drake x you#nightwing x reader
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More sugar mommy stuff..this time with Ellie and Abby<3 MDNI SMUT BELOW
â˘Abby is definitely really gentle with her sugar baby. Sheâd love to spoil you more with cute clothes and sweet kisses, not as much on the sexual side. She was just an older woman who wanted some company and to spoil a pretty girl like you.
â˘Ellie, however, is more about just giving you money and trips and getting sex. Not to say that she doesnât care or is shallow, she just prefers the quick connections with her babies. You happen to be one of them.
â˘Abby hits it off well with you. After a few dinners, you do end up having sex. However, itâs not anything like an expectation or a matter of pleasing her. She just really likes you, and she wants things a teensy more on the physical side as well.
â˘Ellie and you donât spend a lot of time together in the beginning, maybe one every few weeks sheâll take you out, but when she does, itâs the BEST. One time you mentioned really wanting to go to Italy. Ellie definitely took you there a month later!! The sex there was truly mind-blowing for her, and even if sheâs not the softest person, she loves seeing you all happy.
â˘Abby who when you two are doing the rarely sexual stuff, loves to please you more than anything. Youâre practically a pillow princess now, sometimes sheâll let you do the work but itâs more rare than Christmas every year.
â˘Ellie who does love to see your face contort with pleasure when you cum, but like receiving too. Youâll find yourself with a face-full of her cunt, nose brushing up against her bush while she grinds against your tongue.
âOpen wide, baby, let me use that slutty tongue of yours..there you go baby, stick your tongue out.â
Needless to say, sheâll always make sure youâre taken care of too. Every single time.
â˘Abbyâs favorite position would definitely be missionary. She finds the more intimate positions her favorites. She loves to look into your eyes when she fucks you. She also probably wouldnât refer to it as âfuckingâ, though. She does consider what you do making love, and she loves to kiss you while making you feel good. Bonus if the base of the strap bumps against her clit enough to make her cum..if it doesnât, youâll beg her to let you finish her off.
â˘Ellieâs more into scissoring/tribbing. Like I said, she does love making you cum but likes getting herself off as well. Getting to cum together is an unexpected intimacy between the two of you, and she does appreciate those types of moments with you. However, sheâs also definitely the type to fuck you in a simple way, too. The first few times before you two got closer, sheâd just fuck you from behind. She loved the way your ass jiggled as her hips met it, making a comically loud sound.
â˘Abby would prefer sex on the softer, lovey side. Sheâs just your sugar mommy, so thereâs a fine line between the two of you, but as the months go by you notice sheâs really just a gentle woman. She loves the idea of making love and taking it slow. Sheâs also big on consentânot that Ellieâs not, of course, but she has to ask you through every step and finds herself constantly asking if youâre okay, if youâre nervous, etc.
â˘Ellie definitely likes to fuck you rougher. Sheâs all about consent, too, but is more about you submitting to her for her own pleasure. Before anything, sheâll sit you down and go over what she can and canât do. If you ever feel uncomfortable, sheâll be able to tell easily, and if not, she makes sure to check in on you in her own wayâŚ
âYou like that, slut? Tell me what you want.â
She expects an honest answer, and if she doesnât get one, sheâll pause and make sure youâre all okay before she continues.
However, once all is said and done, she loves being rough. She loves pulling your hair, grinding her cunt against your face, slamming her strap into you, etc. She likes being rough if youâre giving, too. Sheâll tangle her hands into your hair while your tongue is on her, guiding your head.
â˘Abby would like to spoil you more with clothing and food. Say you like lobster, for example. Sheâd take you to your favorite restaurants for lobster specifically. Sheâs not the type to pick out clothing for you to wear, she likes your style and instead just prefers admiring you try things on in the dressing rooms, showering you with compliments.
âYou look so pretty in that skirt, baby. How âbout mommy pays for that one, yeah?â
I also think Abby would LOVE to send you money to go have girls nights with your friends. She thinks itâs good for you to have fun and time away from her to do your own thing. She knows youâre going to the mall with your friends? Sheâll send you a couple hundred for clothes and lunch.
â˘Ellie prefers spoiling you with experiences and gifts. Sheâs straight up with money, she has a basic allowance set for you, but she often takes you on trips and different places. She likes the idea of spending time with you over just spending money on clothes. You have plenty of those, anyway. Instead, sheâll buy you gifts like jewelry you happened to be eyeing in the mall or expensive candies from Japan, something like that. Ellie also definitely bought you a cat of all things because youâre her favorite sugar baby and she wanted to do something special. Said cat LOVES her every time Ellie visits you<3
#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#tlou2#ellie smut#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby x fem!reader#abby the last of us#abby x reader#tlou#the last of us part 2
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trod au ramble u can ignore
when i say slowburn in an enemies to friends to lovers for Trod I mean slowburn. 300k before Narinder even openly admits he cares for the Lamb, and Lamb actually opens up more than just a shield of positivity and another 100k of character growth, drama, complicated intricacies of grief and anger to communication. The Lamb has boundaries and sticks by them constantly in trod, they're not a pushover, but they don't blow up and react in explosive anger the same way that Narinder does and they are mistaken for soft by him for it, when it's him having to be the one who is constantly re-evaluating his priorities and his behavior because the lamb isn't taking shit from him, despite patience and love, and he's put in this position where he's allowing the grief and the hurt to keep hurting himself and the Lamb in the process, until he risks losing them and Narinder makes the active decision to work on himself. They HAD a healthy, wonderful friendship before, he cared for them. He still does. He wishes he didn't but god he still does.
but i dislike when characters do one change or have one realization and suddenly they're super nice. no I want them to be continuously complex. I want their bad habits and miscommunication to not instantly or quickly disappear, I want continuous effort from the wronger. do you hear me. CONTINUOUS EFFORT. that means a character fucking up again and again and relasping and changing and cursing and being like well he doesn't need to be any different because its not his fault then going back and being like. no. it was my fault. i am wronged and I am the wronger. i need complexities. Let us not forget the definition of 'enemy' in the enemies to friends to lovers here. if they start off soft then where is the growth. Where is the room for growth I want. Where is it.
they get to the processing of emotions they haven't allowed themselves to feel properly for centuries to take this friendship gone sour by betrayal, plagued by anger and hurt to something slowly blooming back into trust and care and soft until eventually its this healthy love of these uberly overpowered pair of gods
Trod bad end is when Narinder just speed runs the 'rehabilitation' part of the rehabilitation of death' and it circles back to him going feral in the head. Still an asshole? okay your lamb is gone. regret your pride and ego because the patient love you were afforded is gone forever and the last memory you gave them was not the love you could have given them but it will be the love that destroys mortality to get them back.
amnesia au Narinder is just happy to be here. no betrayal, no angst. eventually when his memory does return and he gets caught pretending he doesn't remember just so he can be sweet to them without his pride in the way will force a conversation that will essentially fix the horrific communication these two have. speedrun trod x2
Current Trod Narinder is a emo angsty bastard who's rightfully hurt at being imprisoned and (in his heart) betrayed by someone he trusted dearly (again) while Post-Trod Narinder is still a feral bastard but with truly un-constipated, true equal love for the Lamb that wears a wedding ring made of his own blood to the tune of 'i miss my wife tails' and got a praise kink
but if its not absolute hell getting to that point then WHAT IS THE POINT
and all these are mostly about Narinder but don't even get me started on the Lamb's issues. That sheep thang is hiding shit.
Except I can't talk about the Lamb's hiding issues Too Much yet unless you've been in my art streams and have seen some of my comics, then IYKYK but aaaaaaaaaaUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHG
#hi i feel like rambling about au today#cw for suggestive joke#feeling cute might delete this later#sara shush#trod au#the rehabilitation of death#writings#<for tag sorting
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