#it’s mostly the voice and chest but what the fuck
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Smoking a J (vaping) with Simon
Gn!Reader x Simon - a little smutty, mostly fluffy.
Minors DNI, 18+ only (as is the rest of my blog)
Warnings, (technically dubcon because they're both high but it's a joint experience) Weed/Drugs, insecurites, food/munchies, implied penetrative sex, hickies/love bites, GHOAP,
CoD Masterlist | Simon Riley Masterlist
He’d caught you packing your vape.
“What’s that then?” He asks, the familiar bass of his voice a delightful surprise as he locks the front door behind him. He’s still in his travel clothes. Baggy jeans, a dark hoodie, cloth face mask concealing the lower portion of his face, there’s poorly removed eye-black clumped around his tear ducts.
Your heart clenches, he’s rushed home, for you.
“Didn’t expect you home so soon,” you say with a smile as you set the vape down on the coffee table. You’ve never smoked around Simon before, and you weren’t sure how he’d take it, “I’ve not had any yet.”
“Right?” Simon says as he cocks his head to the side, black deployment bag hitting the floor with a thud as he toes off his shoes. There’s no judgement in his tone, if anything he seems unsure, like he feels he’s done something wrong.
“I don’t have to do it, it’s just something I do sometimes when you’re away on mission-,” you babble, trying to backtrack or explain yourself, or – fuck – you don’t even know why you’re so flustered right now. You’re looking anywhere but him as a cold sweat breaks out over your skin.
“Love,” Simon says softly as he slumps down next to you on the sofa, his arm finding yours on the back pillows, his thick fingers ghosting along the sensitive skin of your bare shoulder, “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, what is it?”
“It’s a weed vape, Simon,” you say with a huff as you look down at your lap, “I know, it’s illegal and shit but fuck I just like how it feels and it helps my anxiety-,”
Simon’s free hand cups your cheek and gently coaxes you to meet his gaze. He peeled off his mask somewhere amidst your panicked ramblings and you catch the amused look on his face.
“Love, you really think I’m going to get bent out of shape over some grass?”
“Well,” you say as you feel something in your chest ease, a knot unwinding as the fear of reprimand dissipates, “You’re not that keen on drugs, and I just thought it might piss you off,” you admit as you grimace at him, already resenting how you sound.
“Grass is barely fucking drugs, and I’m not keen on the hard shit that makes you a bloody zombie,” He says with a melodramatic roll of his eyes as he leans over to the coffee table to pluck up the aluminium body of the vape, “How does this work then?”
“You want to try?” You blurt with a scoff as you hold your palm out to him.
“Sure, but last time I smoked a J we were in Amsterdam and I ended up making out with Johnny-,” Simon tries to stop himself but he sees the raised brow and the glimmer in your eye.
“We’re coming back to that,” you say as you press the on button for the vape, the familiar vibration making you smile at the Pavlovian pulse of dopamine that rushes through you.
“No chance,” he grunts as you watch the LED X flash and pulse purple as the vape gets to temperature.
“So, you take it all the way back, slow, steady breath and hold it before breathing out gently,” you explain, going through the motions as you show him how to take the hit.
~*~
Three hours, a kebab – each – and a few coughing and giggle fits later, you’re pinned beneath Simon’s broad, naked form as you suck angry purple marks into the skin of his pectoral.
“Fuck, never been this horny smoking pot before,” he groans as your teeth make contact with the tender flesh just above his nipple.
“No even in Amsterdam with Johnny?” You purr as you arch up into him, heat boiling under your skin as you feel just how horny he is as he presses his leaking cock against your thigh.
“Fuck off,” he growls playfully as he grinds his cock against your skin, a soft whimper escaping his lips as you take his nipple between your teeth.
“Och,” you cry out in your best worst attempt at a Scottish accent, “L.T, don’t get cute on me now laddie!”
“Enough of that,” he snarls, not unkindly as he presses your thighs up against your chest, cock finding your slick entrance with ease as he smirks down at you, “Else, I’ll have to discipline ya.”
You scowl at one another for a moment before you see the twitch at the corner of Si’s scarred lips. Your own façade breaks soon after and you’re laughing into each other’s mouths as you buck your hips up to encourage Simon inside you.
“We should do this more often,” he purrs as he eases into you, rocking in and out of you at a leisurely pace, lips pressed to your temple as he hums contentedly.
“Hell yeah,” you breathe as you lose yourself to the myriad of sensations assaulting your body.
You’ve never seen Si so carefree, so loose. It’s mesmerising.
You fuck into the early hours, bodies sore and highs deflating a little as you wrap around each other in bed, skin to skin as you gently drift off in a weird, fuzzy bubble of euphoria.
Smoking with Price
#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#Simon Riley fluff#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon x reader#simon riley imagine#cod mw2#cod x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#call of duty#ghost cod#cod#weed#tw weed#cw drugs#tw drug mention#weed mention#simon ghost smut#simon ghost fluff#simon ghost x you#ghost simon riley
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Iᖴ YOᑌ ᑕᗩᑎ'T ᗷEᗩT TᕼEᗰ - ᒍOIᑎ 'Eᗰ
ᑭᗩᖇT 2
Part 1
Summary: After experiencing the thrill of being flustered for the first time - Satoru Gojo decides he needs to feel it again
Content: Fluff, Flirt! Gojo, Female! Reader (AFAB), Teen! Gojo x Teen! Reader (Reader is the same age as Gojo)
Word Count: 631
Satoru Gojo was on a mission.
Get the pretty new girl in his class to flirt back with him.
Ever since getting a taste of what it felt like to be on the receiving end of the flirting game, Satoru was hooked.
He desperately needed to feel the same emotions the new girl had somehow managed to stir within him.
And he was going to get what he wanted.
He always did.
And so- That's how his 'mission' started.
After that fateful day in your classroom, Satoru stepped up his game. He was a determined young fella. One that, when he set his mind to something, did everything in his power to obtain his goal.
Yet despite Satoru's persistence, you didn't seem to be doing what he was hoping for so desperately. That, however, didn't necessarily mean that his actions weren't getting to you. You hadn't even realized it when you started to actually enjoy his flirting attempts.
"Oh? What's this?" Satoru chirped, large frame shifting as he looked down at you. "You, giving me the time of day?" He grinned.
Earlier that day, Satoru had come to you with another cheezy pick-up line and you'd actually giggled at it. To say that the young sorcerer was ecstatic would be an understatement. He was on cloud nine.
"What's changed?" He cooed, tone dropping an octave as he continued. "Finally admit I'm hot as hell?~"
Looking back at him, you tried to hold your serious expression, you really did, but there was something about the way Satoru had you practically pinned against the wall made your expression falter.
You could feel the rosy blush slowly climbing up your neck, threatening to tint your checks with its vibrant rosy color.
"You wish." Your reply was short, for you feared that if you were to continue speaking Gojo might notice the falter in your voice.
You mentally scolded yourself for the way your heart thumped faster with each passing moment you spent so close to him.
Letting out an amused chuckle Satoru teased. "You're such a bad liar, sweetcheeks." Gently raising a hand to grab your chin, forcing you to look straight up at him he continued. "You know I've been trying to date you for how long..? -Think it's been around six months." He said referring to somewhere in the beginning of the school year. "And yet, you're still givin' me the cold shoulder."
God he was so close.
Way too close.
"What's a guy gotta do to get a date with you huh?" His words were so smooth, rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. You'd think they were some rehearsed lines for a romance movie.
As your eyes met with his, you could feel the way your body reacted to him. The way goosebumps traveled across your torso to your arms, not to mention the way heat rushed to your cheeks.
Fuck it.
"That's what you want?" You asked, shooing his hand away from your face. "Fine then. You can take me out on a date this weekend."
Did he hear that right? Did you really just agree to go out on a date with him? And that easily??
There it was again.
That familiar warm feeling in his chest.
Satoru looked back at you, his checks involuntarily turning a soft shade of pink.
If you only knew the things you did to him.
"Pick you up at seven, sweetcheeks." Quickly composing himself the young man took a step back from you. And with that he left, mostly because Satoru wasn't sure how much longer he could hold his excitement in him and not let it show.
Meanwhile you were left there staring at his retreating form, with an amused smile on your lips.
"Let's see what you've got, Satoru Gojo."
Author Note:
Wrote this while I was supposed to be sleeping so it might not be the best-
Regardless I hope you had fun reading! :)
#romance#fandom ships#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#jjk#jjk fluff#fluff#satoru x reader#female reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru#gojo satoru headcanons#satoru gojo#gojo headcanons#satoru headcanons#jjk headcanons#jjk one shot#satoru one shot#gojo one shot#satoru oneshot#gojo oneshot#satoru gojo oneshot#satoru gojo one shot#flustered gojo#shy gojo#flirt gojo#flirt satoru#shy satoru#flustered satoru#jujutsu gojo
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jaunes got a lot of self loathing and issues,
do you think that would affect him as a dad? dp you think it would bleed over till one day his kids think they are the problem?
I don't think he'd ever make it so his kids thought they were the problem. Jaune in my head is a metrosexual, kind, and empathetic man. But he's also brutal when it comes to himself. I think his kids would know they are the most precious things in the world to him.
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I was right about birth.
I really hadn’t wanted to be but I was right as I watched Weiss struggle and push and blood and other liquids came out.
I was right about birth.
It was a horrific thing. And Ruby stared for a moment before rushing over and taking Weiss by the hand while I loomed nearby with my arms folded.
I’d done this. It was a terrible bloody struggle to bring new life into this world. I’d inflicted this on Weiss casually in a way. I mean a lot of thought had gone into it but this was all happening because I came inside her one time. And that was pretty fucked up.
Blood poured out of her body but not so much that the doctors and nurses found it concerning. Her body dilated and stretched and I watched the contractions take her and it seemed like they were going to squeeze the life out of her. I don’t care what you’ve seen on TV. Birth is terrible and it all winds up in this ordeal with blood and screaming. Weiss screamed as she delivered my son into this world and a nurse received the baby with the cord still attached. They cleaned the baby off and handed him over to Weiss who looked exhausted and it was all she could do to take the infant in her arms and rock away. They both looked bone dead tired. Both her and the baby.
The baby had her hair; white as snow which I thought was precious and hopefully a good sign. He had my darker eyes though which I didn’t think boded well. Weiss cooed down at her little bundle and gently maneuvered him in her arms.
I moved my hand from my face which had been covering my mouth in horror and I walked over to her.
“Little Nebel,” she hummed up at me. Her voice sounded hoarse from the screaming.
“Hush now, my darling,” I murmured. “You look exhausted.” I informed her. “Ruby and I can look after the baby while you get some sleep. You did so well. You’ve earned some rest.” I kissed her gently on the forehead and she looked up at me with tired and beautiful baby blues. Her eyes just fucking were, man. They rocked me.
“Say his name,” Weiss demanded. “He isn’t ‘the baby.’ Say his name,” she repeated at a whisper.
“Nebel,” I did. “My son. Nebel Arc.” I did exactly as she commanded me to do. She looked content with that and handed the baby over to me. I took the tiny form in my arms and tucked him into the cradle they formed.
“Aw,” Ruby cooed. “You’re holding him! How does it feel?”
“I feel…” I trailed off. I felt mostly the same. Gravity still pulled me down to Remnant. But I had Nebel in my arms and I gently rocked him. I felt like something horrible was going to happen. Like I was going to drop the infant and his head was going to smack into the linoleum. I held him a touch tighter to my chest and it must have been visible that I did to Ruby and Weiss because Ruby cooed again which made me look up to see Weiss nodding slowly. She was bleary eyed and seemed to wax and wane with consciousness. Her eyes went half lidded and slowly shut and she curled up onto one side.
I clutched Nebel tighter in my arms. I felt wary but of what? It was quiet after the rounds and rounds of screaming. It was still.
“Do you want to hold him?” I asked Ruby.
“Oh, can I?” She was already holding out her arms and I passed Nebel along to her with a low chuckle under my breath.
“Oh… he has Weiss’s hair. And did you see his eyes?” She begged.
“I did,” I agreed.
“He’s got his daddy’s eyes. Oh, our first born son. I hope he’s just like you. In all the ways that really matter,” Ruby purred.
“Well, maybe hopefully there will be some differences. I’ve been thinking about it a lot actually. There’s quite a bit I don’t want him to take from me.”
“Honesty, kindness, empathy, loyalty, protectiveness, intelligence. What’s wrong with all that?” Ruby demanded.
“In order?” I asked.
She gave me a weary nod.
“It fucking hurts. It fucking hurts. It fucking hurts. I’m a fucking dog. I’m a fucking dog. And I’m an over thinker,” I answered.
“No swearing,” Weiss whimpered tiredly.
Right, right.
“I hear you. It’s not easy. But we don’t want easy lives for our babies,” Ruby informed me. “We want them to be able to handle hard lives. And being like you is a good way to do that. That’s one of the things which makes you attractive as a father. Because you’ve had a harder life than anyone and you’re still pushing and going further. That’s what we mean. That’s why we want our babies to be like you. You can pass that along to our children.” She rocked Nebel gently in her arms at a natural born, gods given, pace which looked comfortable and probably impossible for me to ever try to match. “You can pass all that pessimistic knowledge along and really save their little souls.”
I sighed heavily and stared at Nebel.
“For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee.” I unleashed my son’s little blonde aura into the world. His soul was so pale with little soft blue lights. I tasted him and he tasted delicious. I took three steps back and away. He tasted like caramel over vanilla ice cream and the sharp tang of ozone.
“Was that wise?” Ruby wondered.
“Better he have it. Better he be able to make the choice himself. Better he have a little cushion of protection in this harsh, harsh world.” I wasn’t asking what she thought. If Ruby disagreed with me, then she was wrong. If Weiss disagreed with me, then she was wrong. My son; it was my responsibility.
Let this be my first act as father besides cradling Nebel in my arms. I was alright with that order. First I held him up and then I brought his soul into this world. Aura was the ability to choose and I wanted my son to have options.
“What did he do?” Weiss whined with her eyes closed and curled up on her side.
“He unlocked Nebel’s aura,” Ruby whispered back. “He seems pretty sure that it was the right thing to do.”
Weiss mumbled absently and groaned.
“It was the right thing to do,” I defended. “I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t sure.” I took a seat in one of the chairs around the little hospital room with beige walls.
“It’s just… what if he doesn’t want it?” Ruby wondered. And it was at that moment I saw where she would be weak as a mother. She didn’t have a firm hand. She was always putting herself in their shoes and that was strong. But some decisions you needed to make as loving parents against your child’s will. It wasn’t about what Nebel would want. It was about giving him the most options and keeping him safe.
“Not a choice. Not this. If he doesn’t want to be a hunter, I think that’s fantastic. But he will have aura. It does nothing but keep him safe and give him options. It’s not his choice.”
“But it makes you an empath!” Ruby protested.
“I thought you liked that,” I shot back.
“Not all the time,” she whined.
“It hurts but I never promised my son an easy life. I, by the very nature of my own existence, can only promise pain and hardship. I don’t have anything else to give and I don’t know how to be a good father without that element. I have to be hard on him. Because you won’t,” I accused and I let enough venom into my words and aura that Ruby flinched and our son stirred in her arms.
“I don’t…” She stammered.
“Will you?” I demanded.
She looked away.
“I have to be the bad guy. Don’t I? I have to take the stern hand. Because you’re too meek and mild and I love that about you. I do. I really, really do. But because you’re so tender and sweet I have to make the hard decisions. When it comes to punishing our son, who are you both going to turn to? Me. You want me to be the bad guy,” I spat. “So I’m going to. And it will be for the best.”
“I don’t want you to be distant…” Ruby went on.
“But I’m not my children’s friend. I’m their father.”
“Can’t it be both?” She wondered.
“No,” I let the word drip from my lips and she flinched again. “Maybe your dad pulled that off. I can’t. I’m not that slick. I also don’t think he did pull that off even if he tried to. I think he failed and hurt you and was negligent in his responsibilities to you if he even tried to be your friend. But I don’t get that feel off of Taiyang. I don’t think he tried. I think he knew when he needed to be stern while also being emotionally available to you.”
The baby warbled out an almost word. He stretched his little hand up and touched Ruby's face. Ruby pushed his hand down and softly hummed down at the baby she still rocked.
"We're in your hands," Ruby decided. "If you say that's for the best and seem so sure I'll bow to your wisdom. I can't even remember what it was like before my aura was unlocked. You are so precious! You is!"
"Neither can I, really," I confessed.
Nebel reached out and grabbed Ruby's finger with his tiny right hand. Her little finger seemed massive compared with how small he was.
"He looks like you," Ruby informed me. She stared down into the infant’s face lovingly.
"Does he?" I glanced over at my son's face. I couldn't see myself in him at all.
"Around the cheeks and in his jaw. Same shape," Ruby went on. She glanced over at me. From my vantage point I couldn’t really see his face super well but it was etched into my mind like a clay tablet.
"I see Weiss," I admitted. "In his nose shape. And-"
Weiss gently stirred and shifted around our whispering conversation.
"And the hair," Ruby agreed. "Who's mama's little sweetheart? Will you say mama first or dadda?"
"Isn't talking a long way off?" I wondered.
"Not so long. Not really," Ruby disagreed this time.
I stood up and walked behind Ruby. She cradled our son at her bosom and I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me. She leaned back and rubbed her cheek into my chest and then when I bent low she nuzzled my face. Then she lifted Nebel up and rubbed her cheek against his little face and he whimpered in protest.
“No, you like it,” Ruby demanded, drawing out the word ‘no.’ “You like it. It’s okay. Let me nuzzle your itty-bitty face with mine. Let me love on you. It’s okay. You like it.”
“What if he doesn’t?” I asked from behind her.
“I’m sure he’ll let me know. And a bit louder than that. Let me have this. Let me mush our baby’s face into mine and love him.”
“You poor sweetheart. What are you going to do once he’s able to talk? If he’s anything like me he won’t appreciate his mama being up in his grill all the time.”
“Okay your relationship with your mother is… okay? It’s bad. I want to have a healthy relationship with our babies.”
“I didn’t mean that. I meant that I just wouldn’t appreciate being touched without my permission.”
“But he’s my baby! I need to touch his face. You try it. Nuzzle his face!”
“No,” I shot back. “He didn’t like it.”
“This isn’t about what he would like. I’m doing it for his own good. Like you unlocking his aura.”
“No you’re fuckin’ not.”
“Language! Babies are sponges.”
“Don’t… don’t change the subject.”
“Don’t swear,” Ruby shot back. “I wouldn’t need to if you didn’t swear. Just try it. He smells so good. He smells like our baby. It’s so precious. Who’s mama’s little champ? You’re going to be a mighty warrior. I can feel it.”
“What if that’s not what he wants to do?” I protested.
“It will be. He has you and me and Weiss as role models. He’s a fighter. Just look at him. Smell your son!”
“Kinda weird. Does he have that new baby smell?”
“Oh psh, don’t be like that. He smells good. He smells like our baby. Our baby! I can’t wait to deliver one of my own. I’m going to be so proud.”
“He is your own,” I pointed out.
“I meant to actually,” She waved a hand past her genitals. “You know? Not that Nebel isn’t my son. Of course he is my son. Of course he is. But I want to push one out too.”
“You want that? Women,” I breathed.
“What?”
“Did you not see how horrific that was?” I wondered.
“It was so beautiful!”
“It was so not! It was so not, Rubes. And you want to do that four times? Come on. Level with me. That looked fu- incredibly awful. It did. Didn’t it. It’s like this terrible struggle of bringing new life into the world.”
“But that new life…” Ruby whispered. “It’s so beautiful. That new life is.”
“You guys…” Weiss whimpered. We both shut up. Our son was ebbing his way off to sleep and Ruby passed him to me while she left for the bathroom. I was assuming.
“You heard all that? Can’t sleep?” I asked Weiss.
“I could if some people were quiet… but yeah. I heard the whole thing. You really think he looks like me?”
“So much so,” I choked.
“Are you crying?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“Y-yes.”
“Aw…” she trailed and sat up. It was to see me with tears pouring from my eyes as I hunched over my son on one of the seats. “You are crying. Is it because he looks like me?”
“Yes…” I breathed. “He looks so much like you. I want… I want him to take after you in so many ways. I know you want him to be like me but I suffer, Weiss. I suffer. It would be so much better for him if he took after you. I don’t want this,” I waved a hand around my head helplessly. “I don’t want this for him. It scares me. It makes me sad. But looking at his little face and seeing how much he looks like you gives me hope.”
“I feel the exact same way about seeing him in you. I know you think you have it hard and maybe you really do. But nobody is better at handling it than you. That’s all I want. I want him to be able to handle life the way you do.”
“On the verge of tears over nothing?” I looked away.
“Over holding your son? Yes. That’s not nothing. Is it? Is that really nothing to you?” She asked.
“It means so much to me. It’s going to break me. Snap me in half. I bend but I never get there in terms of cracking all the way.”
“Hold him. Look at him. Let me sleep and we’ll talk more in the morning. Okay?” She was consoling me like I pushed a baby out of my body.
“Okay,” I croaked.
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-WG
#rwby#jaune arc#weiss schnee#ruby rose#lancaster#whiteknight#whiterose#white rose#white knight#war of the roses#motion sickness
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Recalling Gold
Warning: Nsfw Brief description of fingering, Night terrors, neck injury but its a dream, panick attack, Khopesh doesn't understand how to comfort, he's doing his best though. Hurt comfort
Tags: @kit-williams @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @barn-anon @sleepyfan-blog
Another follow up this time to Saving Water, which itself is a follow up to Severe Miscalculation. Both found here.
After a Massive acceleration in your relationship with the neighbor's Nightlord, you have to come to grips with some painful memories.
After Khopesh had thoroughly "cleaned" your insides...
-
You groaned as your Nightlord went from petting your damp flesh to pumping three fingers inside your gummy walls. "! Khope-AH!!" It was so wonderful! But also too much, causing you to wriggle and squirm against Khopesh's unyielding chest.
He took exceptional glee in watching you convulse between grinding on his hand, and trying Desperately to get away from the overstimulation.
"MmmMm....ahhhp." He laved his broad tongue up your neck, sampling the taste of your skin dappled with water.
"Mm-MM! T-too much I-"
He nipped at his Lullaby's earlobe, Just sharply enough before pulling the soft delicate flesh into his mouth.
His actions sent tremoring shivers down your body as his fangs and tongue continued to lavish it inside his hot wet mouth!
"AH!" The tremors enhanced the pleasure rippling out from his fingers, and you reached your peak.
Breathlessly whimpering with a voice only he could hear, the tension in your body reached its apex. Your muscles straining and trembling against the hard wall of muscle and flesh behind you, as the aftershocks slowly ebbed.
As you lay there panting, with the overstimmulated half numb sparks still twinging from you core, Khopesh languidly removed his hand from your thoroughly used insides.
"Hmmm~" The Nightlord hummed, bringing the hand up to his face.
Tired as you were you did Not want him to smell it. The thought made you mortified with embarassment. "Please don't-"
Too late, but not the way you thought.
Khopesh proceeded to run his long tongue over the three fingers he'd just fucked you with, as if he was licking stray icing and not the acidic natural lubricant your body produced.
You were too drained to argue. So you settled for letting out the most disappointed embarassed groan you could muster while laying against the living mountain behind you with a huff.
"You're so gross..."
"Pfft," Khopesh snorted, but took no offense, instead gingerly lifting you from the floor, and finally turning off the shower.
You'd been hoping to get more time with him, but your raisin hands told you that you'd probably need to choose a less...wet setting for your next encounter.
Or at least one where your family wouldn't be footing the water bill.
"I am merely returning the favor." He stated, as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
He strode out and placed your limp spaghetti body on the toilet. He then snatched fluffy towel, and wrapped it around your body, followed by another coming over your head.
"Besides..." He spoke softly, using the towel to frame your face like curtains as he brought his face close to yours.
"What kind of man would I be if I flinched from my Lullaby's scent? Not like I would anyway, your odor is not terribly pungent compared to the air of Nostromo, in fact it mostly smells like protein and flesh."
You felt his...compliment?? Scent description?? Reassurance?? But it also caused a new blush to erupt over your already heated skin.
His intense focus and proximity didn't help.
"D-dont just say that kind of thing!" You squeaked, pulling the sides of your face towel in and cutting you off from his dark eyes.
Not like it helped you could still feel his twinkling amused gaze and hear his low chuckling as you flusteredly dried your hair.
-
You both settled into bed. Not your regular twin, but the larger guest bed that could accomidate the both of you. (You texted your father to let him know you'd be sleeping in here, and wouldn't panic when you weren't in your normal room. You...simply omitted the full reasoning for it.)
Though you said he needn't feel compelled, he Insisted on remaining at your side for the night.
"Isn't Gary going to be home soon? I'm sure he'll wonder where you are..." Gary and Nancy being your elderly neighbors, one of whom was on a trip to see family.
Khopesh's expression took on an...exasperated air. "Vada has left on an overnight fishing trip with an old acquaintance...who's own space marine is apparently ludicrously territorial." He huffed. "And Muti's travel plans could not accomidate me easily. She preferred I stay home to watch over things...and make sure you did things properly." He added the last bit, with just a slight snide edge.
"You sure they didn't make you stay just so you wouldn't spook their company into cardiac arrest?" You responded dryly, knowing Full well Khopesh's propensity for pranks.
The ceiling drop voice mod combo that got you into this track of events being his favorite tactic.
You actually saw his cheeks darken a bit. "N-no! I would be perfectly behaved if either of them brought me! There was simply things to tend to here!"
"Like pranking then fucking me in a stall?"
"As if!" Khopesh harumphed. "That was not a duty, it was a pleasure." He growled pulling you closer. "A surprise one at that. One of the few boons of being stuck here alone."
Alone...ah, that made sense.
"Well," You adjusted yourself a bit. Honestly surprised this much physical contact was coming so naturally. "Just be careful when dad gets home. He'll probably be here late, but he always checks on me. I want to introduce you two....properly."
You could see the gears turning in his devious head.
"And No, you are not allowed to scare my dad."
"I wasn't going to..." He assured followed by a much quieter. "much."
You narrowed your eyes.
He averted his gaze, then sighed. "...Fine."
You let the disapproving look melt of your face. Replacing it with a slightly smug. "Good boy."
You saw another slight blush raise in his pale skin and he grumbled before turning out your light.
He kept one arm on you, and despite not sleeping with others often, (Most recent time you could remember was your mother comforting you during a panic attack, and you didn't stay the whole night.) You slotted yourself into his side, and the exhaustion from the days excitement was quickly pulling you under.
Your last thought was that you'd wished you'd grabbed some of your comfort items from your bedroom. But that was quickly forgotten as you drifted off.
...
You often dreamed.
Sometimes you didn't even remember what occurred when you woke.
Other times it came like fragments, all shifting colors and odd nuances from the day previous. Manifesting as brief glimmers of realities where you could be fully clothed at an aquarium one minute, then exposed in front of an auditorium of people where you were accepting your PhD in Medieval Weaponry the next and Nobody seemed to notice.
However, even those stress dreams paled in comparison to your true nightmares.
Odd landscapes where logic dictated you run through an obstacle course to earn points that would extend the life of a beloved pet, only for the mechanism to stop working and you watched helplessly as the numbers ticked down.
Only able to hold your sweet friend, and cry, until you woke and remembered they'd passed months to years ago, leaving you to actually start weeping.
Grief, trauma, it was funny like that.
Funny in how it could manifest despite years going by.
Especially if something lay...unresolved.
You were outside, fixing a leaning fence panel with your trusty elven rope, hay twine.
Your mother, who was somewhere in your peripheral, had always told you how she loved hay twine. How like elvish rope in stories it would hold strong, but could always be untied.
At least...you should be able to. This patch was giving you trouble.
Sweeeeetiebiiiiiiird
Your moms nickname, she was calling you, you swiveled your head around. It sounded like it was coming from the house but you couldn't be sure-
Something bright in the distance caught your eye, something that twinkled and reflected the light of the sun.
Sweetiebiiiiiiiird
Your mother's voice called again, slightly more insistent, definitely coming from behind you. But where?
'Mom?'
No answer...
Dread filled your soul as you frantically looked for your mother.
You glanced back to the field, you saw the silhouette behind the sun's glare, it was coming closer.
'No!...NO NO NO! MOM! MOM!'
You cried but your voice was hollow and dry. You wanted to run, but your legs felt like they were sinking into the earth, your hands now tangled and bound in the rope that was your tool.
Trapped, as the golden beast strode closer and Closer!
Sweetiebird? Come on, dear, we need to go...
If you don't come I'll have to come find you...
What!? No, NONONOON O ONONONO!
'He's here! He'll kill you! Run, run away! RUN AWAY!!' You begged with your ashen, volumnless voice, trying frantically to turn, to move, anything anything but this!
Crack!
A sickening sound echoed and your gaze fell to the ground below. Everything going sideways.
You saw your body slumped to one side. You smelled burning ozone and static.
You saw a pillar of shining gold, standing like an obelisk, in each massive hand it held one of your parents.
Strung like dolls, held by the necks like hunting trophies.
It's soulless red gaze turned to your removed head.
And you saw its golden helm split into a horrific grin, filled with sharp nashing mutilating teeth, and dripping half coagulated chunky blood.
Then you felt the ground below what was left of you give way, as the monster spoke.
"The Emperor Loves You."
"GASP!"
You shot up.
Which greatly confused the Nightlord residing on the other side of the mattress.
Beneath you was the spare bed. The pressure both comforting and smothering, the familiar contours of your guest room met your rapidly adjusting eyes.
But you still felt...you felt-
You needed water.
You clambered out of bed much to the surprise of Khopesh.
Your hands trembled as you ran the cold water. Cupping and splashing some onto your face.
Applying some to your neck, even splashing some up your arms and rubbing them up and down as you tried to regain control of your breathing.
"It was just a dream...just a dream..." You repeated, over and over, splashing water and running your hands over your neck. "Just a dream, you're alive, you're Fine, it was Just a dream..."
"Lullaby?"
You whipped your head around to see the huge figure of Khopesh still in the dark hallway.
Even without his armor you marveled at how you hadn't heard him move. But that thought was quashed when you saw your frazzled state in the mirror.
Red faced, still trembling with hard breathing, dripping with water and sweat.
You were a mess.
"Ah, I'm- I'm fine!!" You quickly tried to pull yourself together. Grabbing a hand towel to both dry and hide your face. "I just...had a bad dream. You don't have to be worried."
Khopesh did not look convinced. He leaned down to meet you at eye level, and his gaze was disturbingly serious.
"I do not believe you." He said flatly. "And I do not Like liars."
Embarassment burned and you felt frustrated and slightly hurt tears budding at your eyes.
"I'm Not Lying!" You shot back, your voice totally not wavering or cracking at all. "Maybe I just don't want to tell you about the awful shit I just had to relive-"
"SNRK-KK-Kk"
Khopesh whipped his head with a barely suppressed snarl on his lips at the interruption.
You recognized the sound and immediately hissed "Shut up!"
The Nightlord was stunned by your abrasive tone. But you continued before he could retort.
"It's just my dad, you idiot! Haven't you ever heard somebody snore before!?" You chewed him out at a whisper, before pushing past him and into your parents room.
Inside your father slept, naturally keeping to his side of the bed, even without your mother present.
"Snk! Kr krk krk kk..." You felt your coiled awful tension slowly unwind as you examined your father's breathing.
It was fine. He was fine.
Khopesh meanwhile was confused. Had you not told him to Avoid being seen by your father together?
You had to know he'd follow you, but...you seemed utterly distracted by something else.
Ever since you woke suddenly.
You strode past him back to the guest room and picked up your phone. Scrolling through the recent texts you saw one recently from your mother to the group chat for your farm.
She was fine, you were Fine. You finally let a shaky exhale leave your mouth, and slumped to sit in a heap on the bed.
Khopesh meanwhile stood awkwardly in the hallway, unsure of what to do next.
But seeing you look so...small, so alone in that room...he felt compelled to follow.
He took a seat next to you, and waited.
...
...
...
"...i'm sorry..."
Khopesh cocked his head, why were you apologizing?
"...i shouldn't have called you an idiot." You explained, meeting his dark gaze. "But I Wasn't Lying. I had a bad dream. Then I had a panic attack. It happens sometimes..."
The awkward silence drew out as Khopesh thought over his next words.
"I...was not referring to that." He responded.
Now you looked at him with confusion, he elaborated.
"You said you were 'fine' when you clearly weren't. I did not like that you were trying to hide your pain from me."
Khopesh brought his large pale hand to your face, gently thumbing the tear tracks still present.
"How am I to care for and protect you if you are not Honest with me?"
You-You felt the awful scrunching sensation in your face. The one that always preceeded tears that you did Not want seen.
"Snff! I just...I don't like people seeing me cry...I'm-im supposed to be the strong one you know?" You gestured vaguely, as he brought your face into both hands.
The floodgates were opening. "I've got to keep this place going, and my actual job, and housesitting and its tough! But...I love it! I wouldn't trade it for anything! You know Maybe I'd like some extra help..."
"But what really scares me, is that I almost Lost it all. I just...I just want my family to be safe..."
Safe?
"What do you mean?" Khopesh asked, this place was exceptionally safe, and that was not him shooting his own bolter, though he did contribute.
When he first came he faced veiled threats from no less than three white scars, outright threats from an Iron Warrior, And disturbing riddle speak from a wandering Death Guard.
It was only his devotion and bond with his Vada and Muti that gave him a pass.
His Lullaby averted their gaze, he may not be the Most emotionally intelligent, but he could tell when someone was recalling something discomforting.
"Something...bad happened." They said simply. "It was before you came here. And it involved...a Custodes."
Khopesh saw and felt your shudder.
A Custodes?
When he'd first arrived he'd made it a point to at least learn the basics of the different factions that were beyond his time period and scope of knowledge.
But even the most well traveled of his fellows had only cursory knowledge of the Emperor's golden elite.
He knew they were powerful, dangerous, but if one had caused problems there shouldn't Be any neighborhood left.
What in the Blasphemous Bowels of Nostromo had happened?
"Snff." Khopesh was pulled from his pondering as he noticed your fear and turmoil were ebbing into exhaustion. "I just wish it'd never happened...I don't understand Why it happened. It was so...senseless. And even though I know it wasn't my fault, in the back of my mind I'm still scared that someday he'll come back and...next time I might not be the only one who gets hurt..."
"He hurt you."
You glanced up into your Nightlord's face, and your heart iced over.
His eyes, they were completely still and dark. A sneer pulled at one side of his mouth exposing his sharp teeth.
He was furious.
Khopesh felt a bubbling growl form in his chest, building up with the incredible amount of rage boiling in the dark pit of his soul.
"Khopesh NO!" You cried.
"SNRK KR K kk kk"
You both froze until the snoring died down. Your hands had flow up to pin his own where they held your face.
As if that would stop him.
But he allowed you to hold him in place. Even as his rage was seething.
"You can't!" You hissed into the quiet.
"Why not!?" He growled back.
"Because you could die!"
"Death is not something we Astartes fear." Khopesh responded smoothly. "But your assailant Should fear...oh yes...he should fear pain...the pain of flaying, of burning, of gouging, of bones snapping-"
"ENOUGH!" You snapped.
"But-" He started.
"No! Just...no..." You sighed, and again he was reminded of your exhaustion.
Now you took his face in your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes.
"Please, please...promise me that you won't seek him out." You plead, your sincerity forcing his flame of vengeance to calm.
Only a little, but it was enough.
He sighed, clearly deflating. "Fine...I will not attempt to hunt the Custodes who hurt you..." He promised, which seemed to sooth your worry. Probably because you didn't hear the barely audible breath of "for now." That followed.
"Good...good..." You sighed. Still clearly a bit wired, but your fatigue was clearly winning out.
But you could clearly still see his dissapointment.
"Look...as far as I know, he thinks I'm dead. Or maybe he's dead. Or got zapped back to wherever he came from." You explained, trying to sooth him. "Whatever the case, he's never come back. And...and I hope he never does."
"You shouldn't have to sit still and Hope." Khopesh growled.
"You're probably right," You agreed. "But sometimes thats just how life is."
Khopesh let out a dissatisfied sound, and pulled you into his lap.
Being this close to him, pressed to his scent and his skin, hearing his multiple hearts, it was soothing. You found yourself beginning to drift again.
"Do you need to go?" You figured he'd have laid back down with you.
"We only need four hours of sleep. I have rested enough." He replied, pressing his lips and running his fingers across your scalp.
"You're going on patrol then?"
"Hmmhm," He kissed your crown. "Yes, I'm feeling the urge to do so.
"Okay...be...safe..." You requested. "And...can I go to...my own bed?"
Khopesh smiled at the adorable request. "Oh course my Lullaby..."
He carried you gently, laying you down in your own bed and linens, he wished this bed was large enough for the two of you.
It had a much nicer lingering scent, and various soft items that were also clearly well loved.
He tucked your limp form in, and settled one of your soft toys into your arms. Even asleep you snuggled into the stuffed rabbit.
Next time he'd be sure to bring his helmet so he could snap pictures of this sight.
For now he silently removed himself from the house, no matter how badly he wished to stay. Even the animals didn't notice his departure.
Truly he'd inherited his Primarch's stealth and speed in such spades.
He made it back to where he'd left his armor, and found something interesting upon activating his vox.
A message from his nearby battle brothers. Apparently one of their own from out of town was visiting while his human was visiting family nearby.
It had been a while since he last visited his Claw, And meeting another battle brother from far away could prove fruitful for information.
Not to mention Fun, as most of his nearby brothers had grown wise to his favorite tricks.
As he now stand in his full armor Khopesh glanced back to the house where his Lullaby slept. He felt a mix of emotions. Longing, apprehension, fear...
Rage.
But that could wait for later. For now he began his patrol.
He had even more to protect now.
#space marine husbandry sentience#warhammer 40k#space marine husbandry#c-u-c-koo anon#oc: khopesh#smut
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Lily had crossed her arms and was chewing her lip.
“I love you so much,” Remus began, his heart heavy, “Lily - you were my first friend. You have been there for me through some of the worst times in my life and I don’t want to lose you,” he shook his head, “but I’ve been Reg’s friend for years, you’ve known I was dating him for months now, I cannot keep dealing with you leaping to accusations like that.”
“You have to see what that sounded like,” Lily pointed out. There was an edge to her voice, but mostly it was mournful and her eyes were wet.
“If he had said it– I can see why that would get under your skin. Why do you think I’m suddenly a blood purist, though?” Remus asked, crossing his arms and frowning at her.
“Because it happened with Severus!” Lily snapped, crossing her arms tightly against her chest, hugging herself. “He… he didn't start using that language around me, not at first, but he started hanging out with those kinds of people, and then…”
“Oh, Lils, fuck,” Remus said quietly, biting his lip, because while it wasn't the same – he didn't think it was the same – fuck he needed to talk to James – he could see how it looked like it was.
“I don't know what you're like with them when we're not around, and I know that Crouch and Rosier still say ‘mudblood’ and…” she worried her hands together.
Read on AO3
#remus lupin#harry potter fanfiction#marauders#sirius black#regulus black#moonwater#regulus x remus#lily evans#jilypad#jily#prongsfoot#peter pettigrew#james potter#remus x regulus#regulus & remus#heart of the lion#I should tag better I'm sorry
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toji x gn!reader, afab!reader
CW // stalker toji, under desk oral / cunnilingus
toji murmurs your name into your ear as your eyes squeeze shut, desperate to ignore the embarrassment burning in your chest.
“what’s wrong? you don’t need to be shy.”
you’re supposed to be in a video call with your supervisor in half an hour. but toji has a little issue with keeping his hands to himself. not that it ever bothers you, but you have to plaster on that customer service voice and expression and maintaining that while toji’s free roaming hands are sneaking down to your thighs is next to impossible.
“if i get fired, you owe me a job,” you threaten, “and honestly, i can’t afford that now.”
oh toji knows you can’t, and that’s why he’s slick about this, slipping under your desk and prying your legs apart. your face reddens, and you adjust yourself, swiping a facial tissue off of your large monitor stand and wiping the sweat and heat away.
toji can’t keep his hands to himself. toji can’t let you have your personal space either. not that you’re aware but up until now he knows how you spend every second of your day. he only wants to get to know you a bit more intimately. to you you have dated only three or so months but to him? Three years.
his eyes shimmer at the sight. since you work from home, you forgo wearing pants and sometimes even your underwear in the house which has given him plenty of open opportunities obviously not to your knowledge.
your pussy is so cute, so bubblegum pink, and so ripe and all his to devour as you struggle to contain your moans and cries for him to just take you right there. sometimes he idolizes taking you in front of your boss or supervisors, but he knows you don’t enjoy playing with fire in that regard and he respects your boundaries.
mostly.
you jump in your seat as your video call begins, and sighing, you opt for shutting off the video while toji is trailing kisses between your inner thighs, leaving little marks behind. greeting the supervisor, the meeting begins and you know toji’s going to take his sweet time but also is sneaky about everything. you’re not so sure you can behave though.
You’re caught off guard as your supervisor calls out to you and toji’s nose is pressed into your already dripping cunt; you can hear the wetness splatter onto your chair. you know it’s in your head but you also have sharp ears.
“Is everything alright?”
“er, yes, um,” you compose yourself, hooking your legs around toji’s neck and pulling him in close. you stifle a giggle as his tongue flicks along your nethers, like he’s honored to get to do this to you, like he’s proud to be on his knees for you.
“please, what were you saying about the deployment stage?”
“right. so let’s see here in these charts . . .”
it’s all white noise to you. try as you might your senses are all zeroed in on toji’s remarkable and skilled tongue.
your eyes trail down but they just see the crown of toji’s head. he’s hiding the little noises he makes pigging out on your cunt, and you bite down on your lip as your legs close in a little more.
the supervisor addresses you again.
“have you finished your assigned work?”
“yes sir, i did everything expected of me this week—!”
—toji pries your legs apart for more access, targeting your little clit.
“well done. looks like that’s all for this evening. great work team!”
you sign off and sigh in exasperation before melting into your chair and into the sensation of toji going to town on you.
“don’t you dare fucking stop.”
“mmm. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
toji never plans to, anyway.
#toji fushiguro x fem!reader#toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji smut#jjk toji#erix tales#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji zenin smut#toji zenin x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#jjk x y/n#jjk imagine#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#x female reader
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JWCT PROMPT COUNTDOWN
Jwct countdown May 12-13 -> favorite friendship/duo:
I couldn't choose between Sammy & Kenji and Ben & Yaz so here's both of them in another excerpt from the fanfiction I'm in the process of writing. Again, this is mostly unedited. For context, they're at the water park in JW.
Sammy noticed Kenji standing off to the side with a disappointed look on his face.
“Hey, Kenji! Did you wanna’ go–”
He flipped his sunglasses to shade his eyes. “Sammy, let me stop you there. I know it’s hard to resist all this,” —he ran his hands across his shirtless chest, which Sammy hadn’t even been paying attention to— “but I’ve got a girl back home. And let me tell you, she is incredibly–”
She stared at him, head tilting a bit. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. “Uh, Kenji. I don’t want to date you,” Sammy said. “Like, at all. I’m happy you have a girlfriend, though. I was just seeing if you wanted to hang out.”
“Psh… Obviously. I was just kidding.” He cleared his throat. “About you asking me out. Not about my girlfriend... obviously,” he added on.
Sammy nodded her head slowly. “Right…well do you want to go on one of the rides?”
“Yes! Let’s go!”
“So tell me about this girlfriend of yours,” Sammy said as they began walking through the park.
“Oh, uh–well you know. She’s really pretty. She’s got blonde hair…blue eyes? She’s, uh, really into art too.”
Sammy arched her eyebrow. It was obvious that Kenji was lying about his so-called girlfriend. Why he was, Sammy couldn’t be sure. Not that it really mattered to her. She wasn’t at all interested in Kenji—or boys for that matter. “She sure sounds like a great catch.”
Although to be honest, Kenji’s imaginary girlfriend didn’t seem like her type, at least not the blonde hair and blue eyes. Sounded more like her sister’s type in guys if anything.
Suddenly, her eyes caught on a huge slide with a line of people carrying bright yellow and green intertubes trailing from the base of its stairs all the way to the top which stood at about maybe 2 stories tall.
“Last one to that slide has to carry the tube up!” Sammy shouted, pointing at said ride and dashing off before Kenji could get a word in.
She could hear the sound of Kenji’s flip-flops smacking against the concrete as they ran for the line, ignoring the shrill whistle of a nearby lifeguard.
—
Yasmina was still bristling from her encounter with Brooklyn. The nerve of that girl! Did she even understand personal boundaries? She just flitted around sticking her phone in everyone’s faces. It wasn’t fair that Brooklyn got to keep it just to be nosy. All Yasmina wanted was to plug her headphones in and listen to music.
It would’ve especially been helpful in that moment. Hundreds of kids were milling around screaming their fucking heads off and life guards blowing whistles at them and it was like shoving a bunch of forks in her ears. She just wished she could tune everything out.
“Oh, look,” A familiar voice said. “There’s Yasmina!”
Kill me now, she thought, dread settling in her stomach. She sat up in her chair, to find Ben and Darius approaching her. Ben wasn’t so bad but Darius had just as much energy as Brooklynn or, dare she say it, Sammy. “What do you want?” She asked.
Darius shrugged. “Nothing, really… Just chilling.”
Ben took a seat next to Yasmina, occupying not even an inch of the space and even that looked like it agonized him.
“Have you done anything fun?” Darius asked, his eyes cutting to Ben.
Yasmina narrowed her eyes at him. What was he up to? “Nope. I’ve been here the entire time. Why?”
“Just asking,” he said. “Ben, I might go on the [Insert ride]. Are you good to stay here?”
So that's what he wanted. Not much of a surprise there.
She looked at Ben who shrugged. “Sure.”
“Awesome! See you,” he said, not wasting a second to go run off towards the slide line.
“Did he just dump you onto me?” She asked Ben.
“Yeah, he did.” There was a hint of pain in his voice and Yasmina wondered how it must have felt to be abandoned like that.
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
Well that’s depressing. Then Yasmina noticed how Ben hadn’t moved any and still balanced precariously on the edge of the bench like he didn’t want to touch it all.
“Here,” she said, tossing him the towel she’d been using to shade her face.
Ben fumbled but caught it in his hands before spreading it out over the chair. Finally, he sat his full body on it and curled into himself. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Don’t mention it.”
To be fair, out of all the campers, she was glad it was Ben and not one of the others. Ben was quiet and calm and he kept to himself instead of sticking his nose into her business. He was kind of like her, in a way.
After a moment of silence between them, Yaz could hear sniffling. She sighed, wondering if this was something worth getting into. And then: “Are you okay?”
—
Ben hated it there. Nobody understood. He could tell he was upsetting Darius by not wanting to go on any of the attractions but Ben just couldn’t. The mere thought of touching the tubes or sliding down slides that so many others had gone down made his skin crawl. If he wasn’t wearing long sleeves he’d probably be scratching at his arms or lathering hand sanitizer on his skin. There wasn’t enough hand sanitizer in the world that could convince him to go on one of those rides, though. The only comforting thing about the wade pool or the lazy river was the heavy amount of chlorine in the water but Ben knew there was only so much he could handle that day. Ben hadn’t even noticed his nails digging into his skin or the salty tear leaking from his eye.
“Are you okay?” Yasmina’s question only seemed to draw more tears from him.
“No,” he said, swiping at his face. “I want to go home.”
Yasmina was silent for a moment, and in that time he had begun to think that she too fell into the Ben hate club. Until, “Me too.”
Ben and Yasmina's friendship is so precious to me, especially in s5 of CC and I really wanted to bring that up in the earlier parts of the fanfic I'm writing too.
#jwctcountdown#jwct#jwcc#jurassic world chaos theory#jurassic world camp cretaceous#sammy gutierrez#kenji kon#ben pincus#yasmina fadoula
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Growing Pains CH4 (MWC 10, 11, 12!)
Pairing: RE2 Leon Kennedy x Male(Intended) Reader
Summary: College AU! Your day is shit but Leon's there to take you out.
Words: 3,004/200
Warnings: reader's overstimulated
Notes: this chapter was originally supposed to be longer but the first draft sucked so i rewrote everything
Navigation | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
For the entirety of your Sunday morning shift Leon had lingered in a mostly empty corner of the cafe, he sat up at a single-person table with a laptop out, pretending poorly to be hard at work. He looked around the store often and constantly checked the time, obviously very impatient for the day to be finished and so excited he was practically vibrating the store from how hard he was bouncing his knee. You knew he didn't mean to cause you any stress but his very naive puppy-like act pinched some nerves you didn't know you had–or maybe you were just having a bad day. With your head buried deep up in the clouds, you hadnt realized that you fucked up two orders in a row until the customers had come up to angrily complain at you, glaring nastily as you apologized and made them each their correct order and gave it to them for free. Apologizing had left a sour taste in your mouth that grew as you poured the coffee down the drain and tossed the cups into the trash, you had absolutely no idea why you were getting so worked up over something you’ve done a handful of times.
You barely made it through your next customer without blowing up in their face and as soon as they left you step back from the register and start untying your apron as you head to the back, “I’m goin’ on break.” You don't mean to sound as rough as you did and you don't notice the worried looks Claire and Leon throw your way. You don't pay any attention to her as Claire follows you into the break room and you try to keep the silence between you by pretending like you dont notice her standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, “There’s something wrong with you today.” It's kind of funny, the way she says it and any normal person would take offense but you’ve known Claire for nearly her whole freshman year, so it's a lot easier to tell the difference between her being flat out rude and her just caring too much to baby you. “That so?” You don't look up from your hands, idly shuffling things around and pretending to look busy so she’d hopefully leave. “If you won’t tell me what’s wrong, then you can just go home.” Your brows furrow and you glance up at her confused, “I have an hour left, why would I do that?” She shrugs and lets her hands fall down by her sides, “I dunno…” You instantly recognise the insecure tone in her voice and pull your hands from your locker so you can stand up fully, “I’m just… worried, you’re acting weird.” Your demeanor softens, a weight settles in your stomach as your shoulders drop, you hadn't realized that she’d picked up on your unreasonably sour mood and the fact that it made her upset without you knowing only makes that weight heavier. “I-.” You start to apologize but she cuts you off by shaking her head, “Just…” She struggles to find the right words and looks off to the side, her eyes drifting to the corner of the room, “You don’t have to bottle it up… You’re not alone anymore.” Her words hit you like a bullet straight to the chest, a lump forms in your throat as you remember what you had gone through when you first met Clair.
It was bad and the knowledge that she noticed and remembered something like that gets your eyes burning, but you swallow the lump in your throat and blink the tears out of your wet eyes as you nod awkwardly, “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” She goes to say something else, her hand reaching out to you but someone rings the bell at the counter and she pauses for a second and looks over at the door, she looks back at you like she’s going to apologize but whoever is at the counter rings the bell again and then keeps ringing it impatiently. She breaks for the front, only slowing down as she rounds the corner and into the dining area to take the customers order. Once she's gone you’re left in relative silence, you sit on a hard plastic chair and lean back, your mind wondering to Clair and how lucky you must’ve been to have met her. Your thoughts keep running as you think about what kind of life she’d lead after college and if she would still be friends with you, or if she’d still be friends with Luis, or Leon. For some reason your thoughts get stuck on Leon, you wonder about his life, his major, what his grades are like but those thoughts are only brief, your brain taking you down a different train of thought.
You stare off into space as you fidget with your phone, your thoughts unhelpfully reminding you of how flawed you are and how perfect leon seems in comparison to you, you hadn’t realized you started crying until a tear lands on your phone. The interruption pulls you out of your self-deprecating spiral and back into the present moment, you wipe your face quickly and stand to go to the bathroom before Claire or someone else spots you. You lock the bathroom door and lean over the sink, avoiding looking in the mirror, you know your hair is messy, you know you have dark bags under your eyes but you know that looking at yourself will only send you back into your earlier spiral. You scrub your weary face with cold water and pat it down before fixing yourself the best you can and heading out back to the dining area. It got busy fast, you hurriedly tie on your apron to help the next customers in Claire’s long line, a decent chunk of them migrating over to stand in front of your register.
You’re too busy to notice the grateful look she gives and definitely too busy to notice how Leon’s stopped pretending to work and is now just blatantly staring at you. With the two of you working you get through the wave of customers until there’s only a few stragglers left and a few familiar faces, Luis leans against the counter by Claire looking painfully tired and they chat idly as she makes him his drink, Leon naturally migrating over to the two of his closest friends. You aren't given any time to engage or listen to what their talking about as a brick wall settles in front of you, you look up at the Tyrant, who, after being added to the group chat with everyone including Luis and some girl named Ashley who you’ve never met in person, you learned that the Tyrants real name was Mr. X. you also learned, after a lot of teasing and jokes, that no one knew Mr. X’s full last name nor his first name. “Hi. Welcome to-.” He interrupts you with a wave of his hand and a scoff, “If you can’t remember something as simple as my order then why the hell do you work here?” You will yourself not to gawk, the gall of this guy. You fix your smile that had dropped slightly and tap his order into the register a tiny bit passive-aggressively, “Of course I remember your order, it’s just customary that I-.” He cuts you off again, “I don’t care about the customs of a coffee shop run by children,” He casts a nasty look over at Clair and you have to bite your tongue to stop yourself from getting fired or sued. “Just shut your mouth and make my damn drink.” Your head aches, a dull pounding settles just behind your eyes and you turn around to make his coffee, just wanting to get his order finished so he can leave.
As you’re putting a fresh pot of coffee on to boil you see the teacher turn to Leon and Claire to ask them how they’re preparing for exams. Claire’s normal strong defiant demeanor falters and Leon just looks scared shitless, he doesn’t attempt to say anything but he doesn't have to as Claire’s already opening her mouth to tell him they had a study group. The coffee is pretty much finished so you turn back to making his drink, keeping their conversation within earshot, something about this guy made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Once you finish you place the lid on his cup, not bothering to snap it on correctly but he doesn't seem to notice as you hand it over, “Please be careful, our lids haven't been fitting right.” He rolls his eyes at you and tosses down the exact amount and not a cent more. When Mr. X passes Leon on his way out he glares down at him, a frown tugs at your lips as you watch Leon's face twist anxiously.
When he's out of the shop and the door is shut firmly behind him you hear the trio collectively let out a big breath, you mull over your conversation with him in your head while you shut the drawer and lean your elbows on the counter, your eyes straying out the window just in time to see Mr. X run into a trio of freshmen and spill coffee all down the front of his coat. Before you realize what you’re doing, your arm grows a mind of its own and you knock your fist against Luis’ shoulder, he looks over at you and you point out the window where Mr. X is throwing a temper tantrum about the coffee spilt on his ugly ass coat. Luis snorts, then chokes on his coffee, doubling over in a coughing fit. He nearly misses the counter when he tries to set his cup down but you catch it just in time, using his free hand to point out the window, Claire barks out a loud laugh as she slaps Luis on the back. Your eyes flit over to Leon just in time to see the tension flood out of his shoulders and a small smile tug at the corners of his lips, he senses your gaze on him and he looks over.
As you make eye contact, butterflies fill your stomach uncomfortably and your face starts to feel hot, you turn back to the register and pretend to look busy as the freshmen wander in, giggling to themselves. You miss the way Leon brightens up but you hear his excited voice loud and clear; “Hey Ashley.” Your head snaps over to them when you hear that name and you look over to see a pretty looking blonde amongst two brunette girls that are leant in close to each other whispering about something and a ravenette who doesn't look like she wants to be here. The ravenette comes up to the counter first, rolling her eyes at her friends as she passes, she looks at the menu for a while as you watch the very friendly interaction between Ashley and Leon with a bitter feeling rising in your throat. The girl in front of you clears her throat and rattles off her order, you tap it into the register while trying to listen in on what Leon’s talking about but it quickly gets very complicated as the girl starts listing off the different types of ingredients and things she wants added to her food. “I’ll go make that.” Claire sing-songs and snatches the note from your hands while she walks to the kitchen Luis trailing after her, you make the ravenette’s drink and tune back into Leon’s disturbing conversation about how Mr. X is very biased and rude, going so far as to give Leon false bad grades.
“Why haven't you reported him?” As soon as it comes out of your mouth everyone goes quiet, clearly scared of the guy. Leon shrugs and plays with his fingers, “He's scary…” You roll your eyes and toss a crumpled receipt at him, “And he’s going to keep being scary if no one does anything about it.” He watches the receipt bounce off his shoulder and roll onto the counter, he pokes it and then unfolds the paper, fidgeting with it to try to get it completely flat. You watch him as Ashley speaks up, “It's not that easy, i’ve heard that the whole staff is scared of him and that's why he’s still allowed to work here.” She speaks with wide eyes, her two brunette friends nod enthusiastically as the other girl rolls her eyes. “And you believe them? Have you not met the Chancellor?” you say, your gaze flickering back to leon as he doodles on the receipt with a sharpie, your heart squeezes at how cute he it but as soon as that thought passes through your head you force your eyes away, glancing up in time to see Ashley cock her head slightly, “No, who’s the chancellor?” You nod while pulling out your phone to google Albert Wesker, you click on the first picture and show her, the brunette girls leaning in to see too. “Oh, I know him. He comes to the store my dad works at.” When she says that Leon looks up trying to see the picture on your phone, you tilt the screen over to him and he furrows his brows, “He looks familiar, i think…” Ashley must have realized something as she suddenly gets really enthusiastic, she taps Leon's shoulder rapidly until he looks up.
“He’s the guy that donated all that money to my dad, the one we saw at the party.” Your brows raise at what she said and the unpleasant feeling stirs in your gut again, rising up into your throat like bile. Claire comes back with the black haired girls food and the other girls drift over to her to get their orders in too, once they have the shortest one waves Ashley over to order. “Why’d your dad need money?” You look over at her as she shrugs “I never asked, I just assumed it was for his business…” You’re even more confused, “Business?” The taller brunette girl nods, “Yeah, Ashley’s dad works for a really big tech business. He’s like, really rich.” You nod slowly and look over to Ashley for confirmation but before she can get a word in, the shorter girl pipes in, “Its called DSO but no one knows what it stands for but it's on everyone’s phones, see?” She holds out her phone and sure enough on the back near the bottom left hand corner were the letters DSO. You’d seen a few buildings with those letters before but you’d always assumed it was for something else, not tech stores. “Mine doesn’t.” You don’t pull out your phone but it doesn't seem to matter, both of the brown haired girls look at you weirdly and then at each other, you roll your eyes and shake your head while walking back to your register to see the time, there's about thirty minutes left until it's time for you and Claire to close.
You busy yourself with wiping down the counter as Claire makes the rest of the girls’ drinks, they thank her and pay before leaving. You watch out of the corner of your eye as Leon and Ashley hug before she leaves to catch up with her friends. You frown down at the counter as you clean it off, “What's got you down, Hermano?” You’re embarrassed at the yelp you let out when Luis sneaks up behind you and sets his hands on your waist. He laughs and pulls his hands off to stand next to you while leaning on the counter, “Where the fuck did you come from?” You slap his arm lightly, your other hand pressed over your fast beating heart. “I went to the bathroom.” He shrugs casually, like he hadn't just tried to kill you.
You furrow your brows and push him into the direction of the door, “Get out, we’re trying to close.” He holds his hands up in mock surrender as he turns to walk out the door, Leon trailing behind him like a lost puppy. They wait and chat idly by Leons bike as you and Claire close, once everything is done and in order she heads out of the shop first ticking her tips into her pocket as you reset the alarm then lock the door behind you. Claire waves you and Leon goodbye as her and Luis walk in the direction of campus, both of them having classes all afternoon. Leon clears his throat nervously from behind you, he’s holding onto the handlebars of his bike, ready to go. “Where are we going?” You stuff your keys back into your pocket as his cheeks turn red, “Oh uh… I haven't… actually gotten that far… yet…” He explains lamely while scratching the back of his neck, Your heart skips in your chest and you purse your lips trying to fight off the sudden urge to lean in and kiss him.
“Hm…” You hum thoughtfully and pull your bottom lip into your mouth to chew on it as you think. All you really want to do is go home and relax but you also don't want to leave Leon, the longer you’re around him the more addicting it gets to be around him. “What about a movie?” He perks up and nods, following you when you start heading in the direction of the theater, “What’s even on?” You yawn and stretch your arms over your head, your body feeling stiff, “There's a zombie movie playing.” You see him look over at you from the corner of your eye, you give a thoughtful nod not really thinking about it, all you want to do is sit down and maybe sleep. “What’s it about?” He pauses to think, “I think it's about a cop but that's all I remember seeing about it.”
☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆
#x male reader#x reader#resident evil leon kennedy#resident evil leon#resident evil 2#resident evil#re leon#leon s kennedy#leon#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x reader#re2 leon kennedy#re leon kennedy#leon kennedy re4#re leon kennedy x male reader#re2 leon kennedy x male reader#leon kennedy x male reader
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bro i’ve had constant dysphoria for an entire month. what is this shit
#this is the worst it’s ever been#and i have no clue why#everything that normally brings euphoria doesn’t work anymore#i didn’t even feel anything when some guy i accidentally outed myself to said he thought i was a cis guy#it’s mostly the voice and chest but what the fuck#i want to unsubscribe from the dysphoria service please and thank you#but genuinely#if anyone knows anything that can help#please tell me#trans#transgender#vent#vent post#gender dysphoria#ftm dysphoria#help#please#if you can
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3
tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors
𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.
“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.
you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.
satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.
“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”
you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.
“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.
“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.
satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”
your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.
“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”
a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.
you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.
“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.
satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;
“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”
𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’
suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ‘treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.
all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?
“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.
“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.
before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”
a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.
“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.
“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.
“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”
your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.
your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.
though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;
“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”
𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’
assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.
“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.
“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.
he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.
by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.
“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”
you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.
toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.
you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;
“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”
𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’
all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.
though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.
“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.
you’re his dinner.
you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.
“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.
you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”
you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.
“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.
one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.
he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;
“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”
#sttoru writes.#jjk smut#jjk x reader#gojo smut#geto smut#toji smut#sukuna smut#gojo x reader#toji x reader#sukuna x reader#geto x reader
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Just A Taste.
Synopsis: Gojo wants to taste readers breast milk •⩊•
Pairing: Gojo xFem!Reader
Content: some plot, mostly nasty stuff, no penetrative sex, nursing handjob, ADULT NURSING, he tries to convince reader to let him suck a lil sum, gojo being weird, mentions he didn't have a mom, BREASTFEEDING, mommy kink if you squint, PREGNANCY KINK, whiny satoru, overall just a lot of nipple and breast play
Dedicated to: @busyreader17 , my beloved for hyping me up to write this, ty<;33
(a.n) why do I only ever write about gojo being a pregnancy freak? has to be studied. wrote this listening to very dramatic classical music
MDNI
Gojo has always been hard headed, never thinking twice on talking back or starting an argument just to prove he was right. And that little quirk about him only enhanced when his child was born.
Even if you were the one who spent countless hours in the emergency room trying to give birth to his big headed child- Satoru insisted that he knew best for his offspring. And in extension- he knew what was best for you.
“Formula isn't good enough for my child.” he retorted when you mentioned how painful it was to breastfeed his gnawing child.
And when you'd bring up that you were ready to start working again- “You don't have to work- that's why you have me.”
Little by little Gojo started dictating most of the aspects of your life. There was little to no resistance from you though- you didn't mind his overbearing fatherly tendencies when it came to protecting his family.
But there was one thing, just one thing you'd complain about if you could.
As stubborn as Satoru was in day to day life- he was equally, if not more stubborn in bed. Especially in one specific area.
Gojo begged. Begged on his knees as he watched you pump. Sitting on the couch and bouncing your knee as his hands held onto your calf, “I just want to taste-” he pouted, eyebrows pinched upwards.
“Satoru.” you gritted through your teeth- hearing the whirr of the machine on your chest. He sighed as he placed his forehead to your knee, mumbling something about how mean you were to him.
This newfound need to taste the milk from your breasts was mildly irritating, not being able to take your shirt off without his eyes prying- parting his lips before asking again.
Satoru would be lying if he said that anytime your breasts would leak against his chest midway through fucking- it didn’t take every ounce of strength he had to not trail his lips down to your puffy nipple.
So, so, very tempting. But he'd refrain from acting on his urges, knowing you'd probably shake him off or tell him to stop completely. So instead of doing it without your permission, he settled on asking you anytime he could.
At first you thought this was just him wanting to know what it tasted like, but when you offered him a small sip from a cup he said- “If i'm gonna drink it, I want it straight from the source.” to which you said, “I guess you're never gonna taste it then.” before tossing the small sip down the sink.
He must've asked 3 times a day. Gojo needed it so bad- he would beg on his knees at your feet, looking up at you like an abused puppy that you were being far too cruel to.
And you always said no.
But, your objections sounded like ‘maybe one day’ to his ears.
So one very early morning, 4 maybe 5 am- you were standing at the kitchen counter, holding the little pumping machine to your right breast as your face churned with a grimace. Your nipples were sore, from the machine sucking harshly and from how often you had to do it.
You had just started filling one of the little bottles, and as though Gojo knew what you were doing, he walked in. Squinting at you, almost asking what you were doing at this hour- till his eyes landed on your breasts you didn't bother to cover. “Go back to sleep, I'll be done soon.” you muttered in a groggy voice as the whirring woke Satoru up from the hazy state he was in.
He took a few steps towards you- resting his elbows on the counter as he watched the machine milk you. Jealous that a stupid machine had the right to and he didn't.
The sun not even breaching the skyline made the room dim and dusky.
You didn't mind if he watched- but that's all you'd ever grant him. But directly after sex- when his chest would be drippng with the light cream colored liquid that leaked from your breasts while he fucked you- and as he looked down to his sculped body in the bathroom, the sink running on a hand towel as you waited for him to come back to help clean you up.
His fingers couldn't help but swipe at the liquid before placing it on his tongue. The whisper of your taste on his tongue made one thing clear in his mind. If he couldn’t wrap his lips around your nipple and suck till there was nothing left- if you wouldn’t grant him that one favor, the closest thing he had was to fuck you in missionary from now on. Hoping one day he would ask you mid way through- and you’d be too fucked out to say anything but yes.
True if he really wanted to taste you- he could just reach into the freezer and thaw a bag of the pumped milk to try it. But he didn't just want to taste it- he wanted to feel it fill his mouth directly from the source. How warm it would be as it slid down his throat. And god- from the small tastes he's gotten, it's so sweet. You taste so fucking sweet.
His eyes watched as the plastic bottle filled up with milk, almost hypnotized by the liquid. You winced as the machine sucked at your sore nipple, which only made the cogs in Satoru’s brain start churning with schemes.
With soft eyes he fluttered his white eyelashes up to you, “Does it hurt?” he whispered, looking at your expression that looked more irritated than pained. You nodded your head slowly, “It feels like when your foot is asleep,” you muttered, “but not the ‘numb’ kind of asleep, like the kind that hurts anytime you move it.” you continued as you closed your eyes, exhausted and very ready to go back to bed.
Satoru raised himself from the counter, taking steps over to you as you felt his presence loom next to you. “Nd you have to do it all the time too-” he scoffed, playing the sympathy card so you'd think he was on your side.
He pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “They always look so full,” he murmured against your skin, you hummed in response, agreeing with what he was saying as he wrapped his hand around your waist, placing his chin on your shoulder. “So painful.” he hummed as his hands dared to trace up your bare torso.
“I can help, y’know.” The tone he said those words sounded sincere- almost as though he was just trying to make this easier for you, you let out a hum in disbelief, “Unless you're a baby who refuses to latch- no you can't.” you mumbled with a groggy voice.
Your words came out as a retort- but in Gojo’s ears they sounded like a challenge.
It was true, his child had the same stubborness as Satoru, refusing to eat anything that didn’t come from a plastic bottle. Thus the pumping and the overproduction of milk that was piled high in the freezer by now. You had half the mind to sell it or empty them down the drain, I mean what child is gonna drink that much? Even if it was a Gojo heir- no child drinks that much milk.
But the thought pained Satoru, it only reminded him of the times where that frozen milk could have been in his mouth rather than in plastic bags.
Satoru kept a light touch as his hand trailed to the side of your ribs, scooping the bottom of the free breast you hadn’t pumped yet. Feeling the weight in his hand as he lifted it lightly, and you were just tired enough to let him. “They're so heavy.” he whispered in a coo as you blinked your eyes open, fully registering what he was trying to do.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Don't be gross, ‘toru.” you spoke in a clearer voice, earning a small laugh to ring into your ear as his hand gently grasped the side of your full breast. “What's gross about wantin’ to help?” He murmured in your ear, his hand keeping a light graze as his pointer finger brushed past your tender nipple, you hissed at the feeling causing Satoru to hum an understanding ‘I know.’ into your ear.
You couldn't see his face but you were sure he was pleased with himself, “That's all I wanna do.” his words sounded wholehearted. Almost earnest as his large hand held onto your breast with a light touch, “I'll be sooo gentle, I promise.” he closed his eyes feeling your breast fill his palm with ease, “I just wanna help you,” he whispered as he pressed the off button on the little machine, guiding your hand to place it on the counter as he pressed an honest kiss to your ear.
You knew that filling those little bottles would have taken way too long, then the thought of how much faster it would be if you let him- “Let me help you.”
Satoru’s silver tongue was never your favorite part of him, you never liked how easy it was for him to hide the truth behind seemingly sincere words.
His brushing fingertips against your sore nipples didn't help either, his fingers were very, very close to squeezing the suede ring of color around the hardened peak- Satoru wanted to see if small rivulets would spurt out of your nipples if he squeezed.
You inhaled feeling the warm pads of his fingertip caress at your tender nipple. If Satoru wasn't trying to convince you of something, you'd admit it felt nice. You scoffed, “Don't make it nasty ‘toru-” you caved, sighing with an exhausted tone, feeling his warm palms lift your heavy breasts.
Gojo’s mouth had been salivating from the second he walked into the kitchen, and as you said those words he gulped hard. “Course not~” he mumbled, allowing the truth to seep out in his words.
And as he guided you to sit onto the couch as you've done plenty of times when you'd pump, he already knew how he wanted to be fed, he had thought about it over and over again. And settled on this position, his back was pressed against the tops of your thighs. His long legs extended onto the couch- unashamed of his cock rising from staring at the cream droplet that threatened to fall from your nipple.
Even if this act was obscene and borderlining on too far- you were grateful he didn't make any teasing remarks on how little it took for him to convince you this time. That and how his mouth would have been filled soon enough, so you wouldn't worry about that.
Your hand was on the back of his head, fingers filled with lily white hair as he fought back a smile. Only the gleam in his eyes showed you just how excited he was. Satoru’s lips parted as his eyes darted back and forth from your sore nipple up to your face that was warm with embarrassment. All but asking for permission as you watched his bottom lip quiver in anticipation.
With pinched eyebrows, you guided his head towards your aching breast, Gojo’s lips parted awaiting your puffy nipple. His tongue covered the bottom of his teeth- a low groan rumbled onto your skin as he lightly pressed his parted lips onto the skin around your nipple.
You watched with a grimace look on your face, not knowing why he would offer this- let alone enjoy it.
Satoru’s tongue circled at your hardening nipple, lapping softly as he tried to keep his promise of being gentle as the essence of the milk lingered on his tongue. A small huff left your lip as he rested his tongue at the bottom of your nipple, protecting it from his pearly teeth.
His hands rested atop his tummy as you caressed the back of his scalp, you nodded your head as a form of permission, giving Satoru the ‘ok’ that he could start- his lips were slow to start sucking, pulling your nipple further into his mouth with a lactogenic motion from his tongue.
Before now, Satoru wasn't fully sure how to nurse if you let him, he knew it wasn't like just sucking your nipple. But the second he felt the sore apex of your breast press against the roof of his mouth, sucking in as much of your breast as he could, his tongue massaged the bottom of your tit to coax the milk to come out.
The motion came to him as an instinct, as though nursing was engraved in his marrow from the minute he was pulled into this world.
It took very little effort to pull milk to the surface. But the moan that reverberated onto your breast from a fat droplet hitting Satoru’s tongue- it was bordering on pornographic. It was as though he saw the pearly gates of heaven when the droplet infiltrated the taste buds of his tongue.
No matter how much fantasizing he did, or any of the ghost-like tastes- nothing. Nothing, could have prepared him for how fucking heavenly you tasted.
Your milk was warm, thick enough to leave a light cast on his tongue as he tried to suckle more liquid from your nipple. Gojo’s mouth was latched onto you in a way you knew it would hurt to pull him off.
Satoru’s gaze threatened to shut as you looked down at him. His head coddled in your hand as he kept faltering eye contact with you. Only making this feel even more salacious than it should have.
No, this was only supposed to be a way for him to help- a way to remove the aching pressure from your breasts and save some time.
But that look in his eyes, the way his eyebrows were furrowed- almost as though he was sucking your tit in spite.
That was till a bigger wave of your milk rushed into his mouth, earning an almost anguished whimper to pulse against your skin.
Your eyes squinted trying to figure out if he was exaggerating- only the way his eyes struggled to stay open, the blush across his cheeks and the satisfied smile on the perked corners of his lips, convinced you he was being genuine.
With every ooze of the prized liquid he suckled from your plump breast, Satoru swallowed. Not wanting any to spill from his lips as you placed your hand on his chest that was threatening to start hyperventilating. Too focused on suckling as much milk as he could to even consider keeping a steady breathing pattern. The warmth of his mouth on your tender nipple was soothing, comforting almost.
Gojo’s eyes were half lidded and hazy- trying his very best not to let them roll to the back of his head as the dulcet milk trickled down his throat.
Unwillingly a small whimper fled his latched lips as his eyes closed, chest heaving from the taste of you coating his mouth. You huffed a small breath from his greedy tongue sucking harder on your nipple.
Rubbing your hand on his chest to soothe the little whimpers that rumbled your breast, thankful his eyes were closed when they rolled to the back of his head. His trapped cock was shouting at him for attention, be it instinct or just wanting to relieve the ache- his hand slowly trailed down his tummy, only your eyes were too focused on his seemingly intoxicated expression to notice.
Your hand holding his head up started rubbing gently at his scalp, seeing frustration form on his delicate features- unknowing why. But you were almost trying to soothe him as whimpers vibrated onto your breast. Watching his eyebrows furrow and the growing blush on his cheeks to deepen as his eyes fluttered open.
Looking up at you from the slightly obstructed view from below, your palm on his chest being able to feel how hard his heart was beating. And as your eyebrows furrowed with a breathy sigh- you watched the familiar look in Satoru’s eyes glimmer past white lashes.
You inhaled sharply, feeling his tongue trail from massaging the bottom of your nipple to the little mound that provided the milk. Tracing the tip of his tongue on your bud causing you to hiss his name in a warning.
That's all it took for him to continue suckling on your sore nipple. You were about to rest back onto the couch with a sigh, caressing the back of his head as you felt relief wash over your shoulders, allowing him to take what he needed and then some.
That was till your eye caught his bicep flexing- and you trailed your eyes down his pale arm parting your lips in shock as you watched his unashamed hand palm himself through his gray sweats.
You huffed- only it came out in a breathy sigh rather than in the reprimanding tone you meant it to. Satoru only moaned as he heard his name fall from your lips, feeling his mouth suck rougher in order to pull more milk from your heavy breast that threatened to suffocate his nose.
His hand hesitantly removed itself from the stiff bulge of his sweats, landing on your wrist that was on his chest. His hazy cerulean eyes filled with the kind of mist you only see when he's premeditated something long before you knew of it.
Satoru’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as he greedily drank from your nipple, so greedily that the corners of his mouth were threatening to leak the honeyed fluid- he was suckling so much, he couldn't swallow fast enough.
And as the little droplets stained the sides of Gojo’s jaw, trailing down his pale skin- he led your hand to extend over to his strained bulge. Knowing if you truly were uncomfortable by this, you would've pulled away the second you saw him palming himself.
You inhaled as his hand led you to his cock by your wrist, gasping softly with a tingle on your cheeks from how hard he was. Satoru placed his larger hand atop yours, pressing it onto his painful erection with a whine rippling through your skin.
You flashed your eyes from the gray fabric that trapped his neglected cock, back to his eyes. Threatening to blink shut as you kept a gentle grasp on his bulge. Even if he was the one in your lap, nursing at your breast in a way that can only be described as voracious. That look on his face was smug, almost as though he was right this entire time and you were the hard headed one.
Satoru trailed his hand onto your forearm, smiling to himself as you started softly palming his prominent bulge.
Your eyebrows were pinched upwards, trying very, very hard not to shift your thighs beneath his back to relieve the ache forming between them.
You felt bad, like the only reason he was palming himself- almost in a sad way, was because you allowed this to happen. It wasn't guilt- but you wanted to apologize in some way.
Satoru’s mouth suckled in no pattern, his only goal was to drain every single gush of milk you offered. No matter how fervent he must've looked right now, he didn’t care. As long as he could feel your warmth in his throat- your taste coating the cavern of his mouth- he didn’t care if he looked like a starved man.
You sighed almost in pity as he let out various throaty whimpers, firmening your fingers around the print in his sweats. “Oh ‘toru~” you soothed, knowing how hard he was- it had to be painful. Your cheeks tingling and warm as his hips bucked up into your hand for more friction.
And as your hand cradled onto the back of his head, you maneuvered the hand on his bulge to free it from its torment.
For the first time since he latched onto your nipple, his lips parted from your breast with a low moan. The cold morning air hitting his pinkening tip causing him to furrow his eyebrows, but all it took was for the feeling to settle before he attached onto your draining nipple once more.
You didn't hesitate to place your hand onto his base, feeling the light trails of his precum on his shaft from how worked up he was, tempting a gasp to leave his lips, you looked at him.
And as though he was made to do it- Satoru lightly ran his tongue at your budding nipple, lapping up the white sweetness that leaked from your breast.
You kept a light touch on his cock, his hand on your upper arm before gently resting it on the swell of your other breast. Thinking to himself how rude of him that he was neglecting your other equally tender nipple.
Satoru lightly thumbed your nipple, feeling light drips wet his thumb. Enticing you to slowly start stroking him, stopping your grasp right before your fingers could roll onto his flushed tip. Knowing he wouldn't last long if you worked over his cockhead.
The moans that rumbled from Gojo’s throat and onto your sensitive skin were full of desperation and bliss. You watched him in almost pity- trickles of your milk falling from the sides of his lips, making trails of white drip down his cheeks.
It didn’t take long for him to finish draining your breast, somewhere in his mind he knew there was nothing left in your left tit, but that didn't stop him from trying to slurp up any remaining droplets.
Gojo’s cheeks felt like they were boiling on his face, and with one last lap of your nipple, he unlatched from your breast. Huffing softly as his breath tickled your damp nipple, he looked up at you, an amazed and out of breath expression formed on his face as you wiggled your eyebrows.
It was embarrassing, the way your milk left trails of a light white film on his cheeks, the way he was breathing heavily with his cock in your hand. Vulnerable.
Satoru saw your flushed face- and to comfort you he raised himself from the tops of your thighs lightly, keeping a massaging hand on your unsucked breast as he pressed his plump lips to yours.
It was filthy- Mouths dancing against each other in pure delirium. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue- on his spit laced with milk. It was like Gojo did that to show you just how exquisite you tasted. Only for your hand to keep its snail pace, avoidant of his crying tip.
His lips pulled from yours, looking into your eyes and thumbing your weeping white nipple. Soft opened mouth moans coming from his lips as your hand stroked tenderly.
Rare were the times when Satoru was silent during intimacy, usually babbling teasing nonsense. But this time, the carnal look in his eye told you everything you needed to know. His senseless prattling wasn't even a thought in his mind right now, burning beneath his skin was pure and utter hunger. Hunger, to taste you- to drink from you. To nurse, over and over again.
The one thought that lingered in his mind was to make sure to keep you pregnant- keep you in a state to continue producing the warm comfort he hardly had as a child.
Gojo licked his bottom lip, mouth salivating as he felt the warm liquid trickle onto his palm. He leaned back slightly, looking down to your swollen nipple rolling between his fingers. Then trailing his gaze to your slow stroking hand, Gojo was sure he had never been so hard in his life till now.
He licked his lips before cupping the side of your heavy breast in his palm, slowly shifting himself down to align himself with your right breast. Your hand followed the back of his scap, guiding him to latch onto your dripping nipple.
Satoru opened his mouth, closing his eyes when he felt the skin of your breast fill his mouth again. Running his tongue across your neglected nipple and tasting the essence his fingers had squeezed out. A throaty whine leaving his nose as he started suckling, so enthralled by your taste and the gentle way you stroked him. Keeping his kneading hand on the side of your breast to assist in guiding more milk into his mouth.
Your cheeks were warm, tingling from how lewd he looked at that moment. The little whimpers that came from him didn't help either.
Happily, Satoru let those unfiltered whines pour from him, if it meant you'd know how much he was enjoying himself.
And as your hand slightly passed his tip on the upturn, he gasped against you. Almost as a warning, he sucked harder on your sore nipple in return.
Gojo let out muffled cries from your hand stroking past his tip, even if you couldn't see it- his eyes were rolled to the back of his head as he suckled instinctively. You looked away from his face- churned with an insatiable greed.
Looking at his pinkening cock in your hand as the veins on his lower abdomen stood proud beneath his skin. His chest was heaving once more, forced to take heavy inhales through his nose as he felt the knot in his tummy tighten.
Satoru’s whines started to rumble louder against you, watching an inhale reach down his torso, his tummy caving from how hard he exhaled. He was so close. So fucking close and fighting it at this point. You could see it in his scrunched eyebrows and desperate suckles.
You lightly scratched your nails onto his scalp, “It’s okay ‘toru,” you sighed softly, gaining his cerulean eyes to open slightly and look up at you. You were flustered sure, but you wanted to assure Satoru that he could cum whenever he liked. He didn't need to hold off for your sake.
Only when he saw the soft smile on your lips- something deep within him snapped. It didn't click before, even with your hand tenderly stroking him and your tit in his mouth, even as he was nursing directly from your breast. It still didn't click.
But when you soothed his whimpers, the tender smile you had on your lips as he took and took from you. The nurturing tone you assured him with. That's when it made sense. That's when he realized why he had been longing to help you in this way.
Before he didn’t really question it- thought it was just something weird he found hot amongst all his other strange fantasies. But now. Now it made sense.
Your mind was a mess, barely able to process the words that fell from your lips naturally. Gojo’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as you polished his cockhead, his hips bucking up into it in response. You watched as he let go of that final reservation, sucking harshly causing more of your milk to spill from the corners of his lips with frustrated whines. Being able to feel his orgasm tighten in his stomach.
The hand on your breast was practically milking you, squeezing milk into his mouth rather than his tongue nursing at it, his nose was scrunched as he exhaled a ragged breath through his nose. Your nipple was starting to ache from the vibrating whimpers and moans, and instead of telling him to stop, you raked your fingers through his hair gently. “Shh, I know, I know.” you crooned, keeping a steady pace on his cock as he simmered his whimpers.
Ever since Satoru told you he had little to no memories of his mother, you knew he had mommy issues. And when he started asking to taste your milk you were hesitant, knowing once that pandora's box was opened there was no use trying to close it again.
Only as you looked down at him, how content and blissful he looked- unlike anything you've ever seen before, you didn't mind if it didn’t close again.
Satoru parted his eyes, feeling his orgasm slowly slip in his tummy, you watched as his eyes fluttered back to his head- mumbling something in the sound of ‘m’cummi-’ against your skin as you sped up your pace. His hips twitching up into your hand as you jerked him quickly, his lungs could barely handle how little air he was inhaling, his brain fuzzy as he slurped and lapped at your nipple.
Gojo saw stars as you stroked him past the pinnacle you worked him up, his eyes squinted harshly as his lips unlatched from your breast, throaty groans mixed with whines fell from his lips as his orgasm oozed over your hand. When your thumb caressed the opening on his tip, his cock spurted out another pump of his cum with a whine.
As you helped work through his orgasm, smaller pumps of his seed assisted in the wet strokes you gave him, Satoru latched back onto your breast with a content sigh, needing to drain as much as he could, his cock slowly softening in your hand.
And as he drank the rest of your milk you rested your hand on his lower belly, waiting for him to finish taking what he needed. His mouth wasn’t suckling as frantically nor hurried as before. You relished in the warmth his lips provided with a sigh, closing your eyes as the sun started rising. Being able to see the light through your closed eyes.
When Satoru couldn't taste any more milk coming from your drained breast, he hesitantly pulled away. Resting his head in your hand as he looked up to the ceiling hazily, milk drunk as your breasts obstructed his view.
He inhaled, “Throw away that stupid machine.” you sighed, knowing he’s hated the breast pump since he saw you use it for the first time.
“What am I gonna do when you're not around?” you murmured, thinking of a world where you wouldn't have access to a pump.
“Call me and I'll find you.”
You let out a small laugh. Leaning your back onto the couch as Satoru setted on your hand. “So fucking weird.” You murmured, hearing him let out a smiley breath.
Satoru sat up, turning to you with an endearing gaze, “Only cause I like you soooo much.” he claimed, pressing a kiss onto your temple before standing. Reaching out for your hand, ignoring the mess on his tummy, pulling you to stand as he led you to the master bathroom.
“What do you want for breakfast?” you muttered behind him, watching him halt his steps and looking back at you, “What?” he asked with a smug smile and creased eyebrows.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “...Breakfast?” not understanding what was confusing about the question.
Satoru scoffed, “What for? You just fed me.” he spoke sweetly, watching the grimace on your face churn with an appalled ‘ugh!’ as you snapped your hand away from his. You scoffed as he reached for your hand again, pulling you into his arms. Peppering kisses over your features as you groaned.
“You’re so nasty.” you scoffed as he stepped forward, leading you into the bathroom with various kisses on your cheeks.
You were sure this little activity Satoru found so much attraction in, would make its way into your daily routine. Only you didn't mind it as much as you thought you would.
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writing this added 3 years to my life dead ass.
#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo smut#satoru gojo#jujustu kaisen#jjk satoru#gojou satoru x reader#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojo#pregnant kink#pregnancy freak gojo#Breastfeeding#gojo x you#gojo x chubby reader
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fem!reader with a size kink and alastor just teases her about it. It starts off innocently before angel dust just teases and teases her about it until alastor decides to have fun with it.
a/n: this is prolly very ooc alastor but uhhhh this is fun sooo 🩷
word count: too many i don't even know
tags: 18+ smut nsfw, alastor has a big dick, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot, slight cervix fucking (?), teasing
alastor first notices your inclination for pointing out he's much larger than you when you're always grabbing his hand. he easily covers your hand with his and it gives you butterflies every time. you think he doesn't notice your flushed cheeks, but alastor keeps a close eye on your emotions. he likes to make little snide comments but other than that, it's mostly harmless.
it evolves into him coming up behind you and resting his arms on the top of your head with ease, barely even straightening his back to do so. "hey!" you whine, crossing your arms over your chest. "im not an arm rest, y’know?" alastor just laughs, tugging gently on your hair to pull your head back. your eyes meet his, and your body tenses. the look he gives you is intoxicating, the way he easily peers over you makes you want to shrink into him and let him envelop you.
"yer not?" angel chirps in, breaking you from your daydream. "coulda fooled me. thought you were a coat rack, especially the way you hang onto mr tall dark 'n handsome over there like ya life depends on it." you gasp at his words, immediately trying to put distance between you and alastor but his arm hooks around your waist. "h-hey this isn't fair..." you huff, but alastor's chest is warm against your back and it's making your head fuzzy. "you like 'em big, dont'cha sweetie?" angel snickers, enjoying the way your cheeks go bright red.
all you can do is wiggle around in alastor's grasp until he lets you flip around and face him. you waste no time in burying your face in his chest, hiding the pure embarrassment written all over it. "oh come now angel, the poor girl can only take so much." he laughs when you put your fist to his chest. "i bet she can take more than you think..... alright i'm done i swear!" angel leaves the room cackling, too proud of himself. "alastor... please..." you sigh, your face still pressed against his chest.
he lets out a soft chuckle before petting your head. "just a little friendly teasing, hm?" he steps away to give you some much needed air. "i wouldn't want to break you, my dear." alastor all but pouts, making you audibly groan. you can't take it anymore, the desire burning a hole straight through you. you grab his hand and drag him from the hotel lobby into your own room of the hotel.
closing the door to your room, you're about to speak when alastor surprises you by pinning you to the door. "you want to be broken, hm?" his voice, shrouded in static makes your skin crawl and your heart rate pick up. "i-i..." all of your confidence from earlier fades from your grasp as alastor towers over you, deep red eyes seeing straight through you. "your words, darling. tell me that you just can't wait for me to take you, to push your limits."
his breath is hot on your ear, threatening to burn you. "w-what if i can't take it?" you whisper, words shaking just as much as your body with how much adrenaline is being pumped through you. alastor's mouth finds your neck as sharp teeth gently nip at your skin. "i think that's what you're hoping for, my dear." his words end in a sharp hiss, his hips pressing you into the door. and then you finally feel it, alastor's hard cock against your body.
oh fuck.
"this is long overdue, please forgive me if my patience seems short." he mutters into your skin, barely containing himself from biting your soft flesh. with ease, alastor lifts you off the floor and begins carrying you to the bed. the effortlessness sends an ache straight to your core. laying you down, you look up at him with wide eyes. it's such a head rush, you almost don't notice how he lifts your ass up just enough to remove your shorts and panties.
your breath hitches at the realization that you're mostly bare and yet he's fully clothed. "can i..." you swallow hard, hands trailing down his body. "i-i wanna touch it... wanna hold it." alastor bites back a groan, not sure he's ever heard you say something sexier. its a frenzy to remove the remaining clothing, neither of you wanting to waste any more time.
you're practically drooling by the time alastor's cock is freed, knowing damn well that this wasn’t fitting. the head of his cock alone would probably stretch you to your limit. straddling his hips, you finally wrap your fingers around his aching cock and moan aloud. "jesus christ al..." you breathe, eyes wide while you slide your hand up and down slowly, like you're engraving it to memory. alastor's body shudders, seeing just how small your hand looks wrapped around him. flicking your thumb over his leaky slit, you smear precum down his length.
"you can play later babe, fffuck, no more though." the gravelly sound you're used to hearing in his voice seems to be doubled, anticipation swirling in your gut. alastor's hands reach around to cup your ass, and flips you onto your back. everything about alastor was overwhelming, his size, his attitude, his cock. your head spins as alastor presses the head of his cock to your entrance, you can already tell it's barely going to slide in even with how soaked your cunt is.
"i-i don't-" alastor shushes you, easing into you inch by inch. your thighs shake, and you're sure there's no way you'll be able to take it all. "ngh, alastor." you whine, the ever growing stretch starting to make your stomach hurt. "ah ah, you're doing so well darling. so tight." he sighs, watching his cock disappear into your sweet wet heat.
your eyes roll into the back of your head, his cock pressing snuggly against your cervix. "thats it, good girl." he almost wants to laugh as he pulls back out, seeing there's still a few couple of inches that aren't covered in your wetness. "we're going to have to work on this, aren't we?" you reach your hand down and feel where your bodies are connected and moan. "t-there's still that much?" and alastor does laugh this time. "don't you worry about that, we'll train this pussy to take every inch."
each thrust of his cock makes your stomach ache, and the feeling of being so full keeps pushing you closer to the edge. "s-soo big, 'm gonna..." you cry out as alastor's hands find your hips. he picks a brutal pace, you're not sure how you'll be able to walk tomorrow, but the stretch and burn of his cock forcing his way deeper and deeper has that coil in your stomach about to break.
and when you do cum, it's the most explosive orgasm you've ever felt. "a-alastor !" your vision goes black, and you almost miss the feeling of alastor's release. well, you would have missed it, but the sheer amount of seed he spills deep against your cervix is immediately leaking from your abused hole. it seeps down to your ass even, covering you in such a way you'll probably never forget.
breathing heavily, you lay comfortably still under him. alastor places a gentle kiss to your forehead before removing himself from the bed. "rest, darling. i will be right back." you’re half asleep by the time he comes back with a warm towel, and even more so when he pulls the blanket over you. he waits until you're sound asleep before he goes to shower off.
"well, i suppose i owe angel a thank you..." alastor hums to himself.
#hazbin hotel#alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor smut#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x you#alastor x you smut#alastor imagines#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader smut#alastor hazbin hotel smut#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin smut#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor x reader imagines#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin alastor x reader
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Summary: Mattheo gets into another fight with a new guy and when Professor McGonnagal surprisingly do not punishes your boyfriend for it, you discover what she really thinks about your relationships.
Word count: 2.6k
Warnings: established relationships, protective boyfriend Matty, fights, insults and creepy guys, language, mentions of blood, hints of sex at the end.
Author's note: idk, the summary kinda sucks, but I couldn't think of anything better. basically it's just me being McGonnagal's fan and a simp for Mattheo 😘
Mattheo was sitting with his friends on one of the benches outside the castle. He was partly listening to whatever Blaise was saying about the next Quidditch game, more thinking about you and about the fact that he almost didn’t see you during the day.
He was completely lost in his thoughts until he heard your name slip out of the new guy’s, Eddie's, mouth. He and another Ravenclaw student were sitting not far away, and Mattheo’s attention was immediately drawn to their conversation.
“Yeah, that girl Y/N, right? I tried to talk to her during the lecture but she acted like a total bitch.” The guy laughed, elbowing his housemate as if he said something funny. Mattheo’s fist tightened, and he tried to hear more to figure out whether they were talking about you or not.
“Wait, dude.” The other guy chuckled, almost in shock. “You mean that Y/N? Riddle’s girl? You tried to hit on her? Nah, you better drop that shit. It’s like serious between them and all, no one usually bothers her because Riddle goes crazy about it.”
“Don’t care, man. I’ll find a way to get to her. I know she’s gonna be a total freak in bed, I will find a way to fuck her.“
Mattheo just snapped, jumping out of his place in a matter of seconds. Before one of his friends or even Eddie realized what was going on, Mattheo had already dragged him to the floor, punching his face.
“Wanna repeat what the fuck you just said about her?” He hissed at the guy, making another hit into the jaw.
“I said that she looked fuckable.”
It turned into a total mess, with them fighting on the ground and other students staring like it was some kind of show. The crowd got bigger, but Mattheo did not care about it at all; he was too busy with the way his knuckles met that ugly face.
Only a few minutes later, Blaise, Theo, and Draco dragged Mattheo away, while a few Ravenclaw students restrained Eddie.
Mattheo was almost uncontrollable, puffing and trying to escape from the firm hands that were holding him in place.
You heard that your boyfriend got into another fight, but as Luna said, it was something bigger and that he was even more violent today.
You brushed through the crowd, immediately standing before Mattheo’s eyes to catch his attention. You placed both of your hands on his chest and quickly nodded to his friends to let him go. As soon as he became free, he tried to push forward, almost radiating anger. The fact that Eddie was proudly smiling behind your back did not help the situation.
“No. Mattheo, stop it. What’s going on?” You felt the way he was breathing, as if he had run a few miles, and it was mostly anger. His face had a few drops of blood; the brow and lip were cut, and you knew that you would have to clean them up later, but now you only wanted him to calm down and speak to you properly.
“Hey, baby. Remember me?” The voice behind your back made you turn your head around, only now seeing the guy your boyfriend was fighting with. It was a new student from another school who was annoying you during your class and almost got you two in detention. You wanted to slap him so badly for the way he was talking to you, but you knew that the best way to deal with such people was to ignore them. They were always thriving on any type of attention. He looked much worse than Mattheo. Already blossoming bruises under his eye, on the jaw, and blood running out of his nose, and when he gave you that nasty smile, you saw his red teeth too. "C'mon, that’s why you were ignoring me, huh? Voldemort’s son? You could find someone better to fuck.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You felt how Mattheo moved forward again, but you slightly pushed him back. You lifted one of them to his cheek, caressing it in slow circles.
“No, you’re not. He's not worth it, Matty. Hey, look at me, please.” You put a slight pressure on his face to distract him and make him set his eyes on you. You had seen him during the fights before, but this time it was different. The way Mattheo’s eyes were completely dark, slightly narrowed, and full of rage, his face expression was so cold and nothing like you got used to. For a moment, you understood why sometimes even his friends preferred not to step in.
Eddie pissed you off during the previous lesson, where he decided to sit with you, chat, and flirt. You tried to pay as little attention to him as possible, completely uninterested in the jerk with no manners and a big ego. He got to school just a few days ago but you already hated him with your whole heart.
Though you couldn’t let your boyfriend start the fight again. Eddie was clearly provoking him with that weirdly satisfied grin on his face and rude words, probably so later he could say that the Dark Lord’s son was trying to kill him.
Mattheo's eyes were ruining between your face and Eddie behind your back, as if he were trying to make a decision. Your fingers didn’t stop moving in slow motion on his jaw and you thought that you felt some tension leaving his body.
“I hate the way he was talking about you.” He said it roughly, trying to control his body and emotions. Yes, Mattheo’s eyes were full of anger, but there was something deeper. He was hurt.
“I know, Matty, I know.” You stepped a bit closer to distract your overprotective boyfriend. At that moment, you almost forgot that you were in front of everyone and all the students are going to gossip about your interaction for the next week. “He’s provoking you. He wants to make you the bad guy. Don’t let him do that, please. We should just leave, okay?” You almost whispered, not breaking eye contact.
“Yeah, Matty, listen to your little girlfriend if you don’t want to—”
“Mr. Carmichael!” The loud, stern voice of Professor McGonnagal interrupted whatever he wanted to say and everyone went quiet for a few seconds. “You are not allowed to speak in this tone inside our school. Mr. Carmichael, Mr. Riddle and Ms. Y/L/N, follow me to my office, and everyone else must go back to their classes.”
“But Professor, Y/N didn't do anything wrong!” Mattheo protested, on instinct, placing his hand on your back and stepping closer.
“I said all three of you should go to my office, Mr. Riddle. Now.” Without another word, she left. Mattheo cursed near you, blaming himself for getting you into trouble, but you gave him a reassuring smile and, interlacing your hands, led him to McGonnagal’s office.
As soon as you walked in, Mattheo stood, separating you and Eddie so he wouldn’t be able to talk or even look at you.
“Are any of you willing to tell me what exactly happened there?” McConnagal sat in her chair, observing all of you. You stayed in front of her in silence.
“I punched him because he was saying inappropriate things about Y/N, Professor.” Mattheo briefly looked at you and you slightly squeezed his hand in yours in return. You saw how McGonnagal looked at your hands but you did not pull away, willing to show your boyfriend that you weren’t mad or blaming him.
“Is that so?” She looked at you.
“I wasn’t there when the fight started, but Eddie was bothering me earlier during the lessons. He made a few comments about me, even though I asked him to leave me alone, so I assume that it might’ve been the reason for Mattheo to do it.”
“Liar.”
“Mr. Carmichael, you are not in the position to talk back right now. That is quite impressive that you were able to get into the fight without even being here for weak. You are getting a detention, plus you’ll help Professor Snape after tomorrow's lesson. He’ll be happy to deal with you, I’m sure. Also, 20 points from Ravenclaw.” McGonnagal ignored his dramatic groan, now looking at Mattheo. Judging by the tension in his body, he was ready for the worst. “What about you, Mr. Riddle…” She briefly looked at you, and you didn’t really understand what it meant. “This time, I’m only giving you a warning: in Hogwarts, we do not support any kind of violence. You may be free.”
“That’s unfair! I’m covered in blood because of him. Are you really not going to punish the Dark Lord’s son? He could’ve killed me!”
“One more word and I’m taking away more points. You both are free, but you, Ms. Y/L/N, please stay for a few minutes.”
“But she— Professor, please don’t do this.” Mattheo stepped closer to her desk and you thought that he sounded as if he had suddenly panicked. It was strange.
“Hey, Mattheo, don’t worry about me. I promise, it’s okay.” You pulled him back, curiously looking at his weird behaviour. “Just wait for me outside, please. It won’t be long.” He stared at you for a moment, but then kissed you on the cheek and went out of the room.
“It’s truly magical to see the kind of love you two share, my dear.” McGonnagal softly laughed and you felt the heat on your cheeks. “Come sit here, please.” McGonnagal pointed to the chair in front of her desk.
“What did you want to talk about, professor?”
“Well, I know that this is not my place to interfere, but I wanted to say that you and Mr. Riddle share something really rare and special. And while I do not support his physical way of dealing with problems, I know that he deeply cares about you, darling, and this is how he expresses it.” It was weird to hear such words from someone else. You always respected Professor McGonnagal and the fact that she said that made your heart fill with even more love.
“Was it the reason why you didn’t punish him for the fight?” She nodded.
“Mattheo is a really smart boy with a kind heart and a good chance to have a really successful and wonderful life. The only thing that may ruin it is his family; I'm sure you understand that.” McGonnagal looked at you with a soft smile on her lips. “I see the way you affect him. How he became less distant during the lessons, started smiling more, and that you two are always connected no matter what. Everyone noticed it, even us professors. You may be the only bright thing in his life, my dear; that’s why I want you to ask to be there and not let him slip into the darkness. I just know that such love is so pure and strong and I hope it’ll live as long as the world exists.”
“Um– thank you, professor. I don’t even have enough words to express myself, but I appreciate your support. I’ll do everything in my power to save it.” You suddenly felt extremely emotional after this talk, and the only thing that you wanted to do right now was to be in your boyfriend’s arms.
“Now go. He's probably losing his mind because of you being there for so long.
Mattheo did wait for you near McGonnagal’s office and when you walked out of there with slightly glossy eyes and a soft smile, his facial expression changed into something sad and cold, which you did not quite understand. As usual, after his fights, you went into his dorm, but the walk there was weirdly quiet.
When you walked into his dorm and then to the bathroom, where you usually cleaned his wounds, he just followed you, hopping onto the counter near the sink and waiting while you prepared the first aid kit.
“Are you okay?” You stepped in between his legs, holding his face with your left hand and the wet towel in the other. You wiped the dried blood and then applied salve. “You’re acting kind of weird.”
He stayed silent for a few seconds, as if he were considering his words. “Are you going to break up with me? If so, then just say it right away and don’t torture me. I fucking hate it.” His eyes were locked on your necklace with the letter R, while your hand froze in the air in shock.
“Wh– Matty, what are you talking about?!” He finally looked up, meeting with your eyes, and you understood that he was trying to be casual and careless about it, but in fact he looked hurt.
“Isn’t it why McGonnagal asked you to stay? To say that I’m bad for you or something.”
“This is why you didn’t want to leave me there? I saw the way you looked at me… Oh, baby, no, I’m not going to break up with you.” You gently cupped his cheeks; now the tension had partly left Mattheo’s body and he finally put his hands on your waist. “In fact, McGonnagal told me quite the opposite.” Your fingers gently rubbed a bruise on his jaw while he looked at you in disbelief.
“What do you mean?” Mattheo slightly frowned. His hands unconsciously tightened around you, causing you to step even closer to him.
"Well, she said that you are really smart and that you have a lot of opportunities in the future if you’ll make the right decisions. She told me that you need someone like me to be here for you… and that what we have is really pure and magical.” You almost whispered the last part. The silence in the bathroom became almost too heavy, and the way Mattheo was looking made your stomach tighten with a weird feeling.
“I thought she hated me.”
You shook your head. “There’s no reason for her to hate you, Matty. You are not your family. You can live your life how you want to, without any burden or darkness, and I’ll be here for you. Always.” Mattheo’s hand reached for your face, slowly touching your skin. He looked almost mesmerized by you—those pretty brown eyes soft with so much love and feelings for you.
“Merlin, I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He drew you closer, your foreheads touching in an intimate gesture. “I love you so fucking much. You’re my everything, Y/N. I know that it might be hard dealing with me, but I’m trying. For you. And I’m sorry for today. I just cannot let anyone disrespect or hurt you, my love.”
“That’s okay. I’m not mad. Just don’t want you to get hurt too. I love you, Matty. No matter what.” You smiled, closing your eyes, and finally properly kissed him. It was slow and delicate and it felt as if that moment was so significant for your relationship. You were always sure of your’s and Mattheo’s love, but right now it has become serious on another lever. And both of you could not be more happy.
Mattheo kissed you passionately, pulling you in close and sliding his tongue across your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, burying your hands into the messy curls and scratching the scalp. “I hate to say it, but you actually look kind of hot when you’re fighting…”
“Fuck, baby. Let’s stay here for the rest of the day and skip the classes. I want you so fucking bad.” He groaned, lowering his mouth to your neck.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Mattheo Riddle?” You pushed him away, slightly pulling his hair to enjoy those glossy dark eyes and swollen lips.
“What if I say yes?” Mattheo’s hand slipped under your skirt, teasingly stroking your thigh.
“Then I'll let you do it.”
#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo x y/n#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x y/n#slytherin boys#harry potter fanfiction
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Hello! I've read your soap and price fics and you are amazing!!!
I had an idea for a fic for Ghost. The reader would be Soaps slightly older sister who isnt like Johnny at all. Im thinking she either picks up soap from base after an op or from the bar. I'll leave alot of this up to you but i just wanna see Soaps Sister meeting Ghost!!
Brother's Coworker
PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Soap's Sister!Reader
SYNOPSIS: In the dim illumination of the streetlights, Ghost lays eyes on a woman leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp.
WORDCOUNT: 4.2k
WARNINGS: Little bit of angst, but mostly fluff and pre-relationship pining, loads of sibling banter, conflicting emotions, etc.
A/N: Finally able to use my sibling experiences for a fic lmfao, enjoy!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
The woman was leaning against the body of a vintage Hillman Imp, the custom color a deep forest green along the sides and a cream white coating the upper third. Ghost stared at her as the rest of the men filed out of the bar one after the other—Johnny and Gaz being especially loud. He blinks slowly, hands inside his blackened pockets.
Across the way, your ears perk slowly at the sound of rapturous shouts, but you only continue to look down the sidewalk at the long illuminations of street lamps and the glints of broken bottles on the ground. Over your chest, your hands shift in their hold on your biceps, your thin jacket crinkling. Light dances in your irises.
“Oi, is that who I think it is?!” Familiar Scottish drawl brings a smirk to your face, and you turn slowly to huff, snapping out of your silent thoughts.
“Who else would it be, ya bloody git,” your voice carries, but it lacks the sheer volume of your brother’s; the great boom that reminds you of the bombs he’d used to make out of your mother’s hair spray bottles.
Never a dull day in your childhood home, really.
“‘Bout gave me a heart attack, not answerin’ my calls like that!” Johnny laughs loudly, obviously drunk, and stumbles over merrily. You’re taken into a chest-breaking hug in mere moments, leaving you squirming with a deep grunt. “Should have your head, MacTavish.” You manage to squeak out, “Put me the fuck down, you horror. And what in the hell have you done to your hair?!”
“Oh, my dear sister.” Your brother lets you go as the three other men slink over, amused with the scene but some momentarily confused by the sudden introduction. Gaz laughs, and the Captain huffs a chuckle before fixing the position of his beanie on his head.
Ghost, as always, chooses to watch like a looming shadow above the rest.
Johnny puts a hand to his chest, the other remaining on your shoulder, “You wound me. Such cruelty stuck in your black soul; I say now, mother was always right—”
You smack the side of his head and Johnny grunts.
“Ow!” He yells, glaring at you. “What the fuck?!”
“Open your mouth again and I’ll wring you out, you arse. You know I will.” Grumbling, the Scot rubs the side of his head as you raise a brow at him. The stare-off lasts for a decent bit, and before the rest of the group knows what’s going on, the two of you are embracing each other once more; laughing loudly.
Ghost’s eyebrows pull in slowly.
“Ah, it’s good to be back!” Johnny chuckles, holding you close as you pat his back.
“Of course, I’d find my kid brother at a damn pub on his first day home.” Taking a step away from the hulk of a boy, you brush down your shirt and jacket with a scoff. Looking up, you come to face the remaining men with an exasperated look. “He’s full of shite half the time, y’know, now. Can’t imagine what he puts you all through.”
“Bloody hell, Soap, you were holding out on us,” Gaz chuckles loudly, sticking out a hand for you to shake while he glances at the mohawked Scot who looks giddy despite being insulted by who’s very obviously his older sister. “Never knew you had siblings, Mate.” You take the man’s hand as he smiles brightly at you.
“Kyle.” He says, and you beam back, “But Gaz’ll do just fine.”
“A pleasure,” your voice carries to John who you raise a brow at teasingly. “Well, look who the Reaper’s yet to drag down…Good to see you again, Captain.”
Price shakes his head, a smirk peeling his lips as Gaz steps back.
“Still on that land of yours, then, Love?” The brunette asks gruffly, leaning back on his heels for a moment while you sag your side into Johnny’s arm. Your brother scoffs and loops his limb over the bridge of your shoulders as you nod.
“You know it. Proper quiet when the neighbors aren’t up to a ruckus racin’ down the streets. Christ, those kids are devils—worse than Johnny and I when we were young.”
“Now that’s hard to believe, eh?” The man beside you laughs through his slurred words and you roll your eyes.
Chuckling in return, you blink, spying on the intent black figure behind everyone else. Piercing brown eyes dig past flesh like a scalpel while you tilt your head to the side, interest alighting behind your skull. He doesn’t move or even greet you, just looks over you and then turns his attention to the street like a roaming bear would; hell, he certainly could be a bear with how big he was. Bigger than Johnny, even.
This stranger wears a large brown leather jacket, the hood of his underclothes pulled up to cover most of the pale skin that would otherwise be visible. The long swish of light lashes captures you as you study the way he blinks slowly across the road. On his chin and on the top of his forehead, the fabric of a skeletal-painted balaclava shrouds him. Cargo pants and large black combat boots sit on his feet.
He stands like a statue.
“Who’s this then?” You call easily, and those eyes travel back to you even as the head doesn’t. It’s strange the way you seem to brush aside the blatant intimidation he exudes simply by standing.
“Ah,” John grunts, chuckling, before stepping to the side. “Simon, introduce yourself.”
A low voice lowly wafts after a moment to silence, Manchester accent spearing you in the ears with its rough make-up, “Ghost.”
You blink over at the Captain, but he just shakes his head and you move on. Johnny chuckles and whispers to you, “Don’t mind ‘em, Lt’s a bit rough around the edges.”
Plastering on a polite smile, your chin moves in a nod, “Pleasure to meet you, Ghost. Good to know the other two who look after Johnny out there.” The man beside you feels his face burn, free hand going to itch at his neck.
Ghost grunts and shrugs off the veiled praise, large muscles stiff.
“You’re actin’ like I’m not the one savin’ their skins half the time,” Gaz interjects on the Scot’s point.
“Is that what you call it?” You share an amused glance at John.
Though, your eyes always sway back to Ghost, or Simon, depending on who you ask. He listens to the chatter, obviously, but he seems much more content to only stay with his hands inside of his pockets and study the street for...what exactly? The beast wasn’t shy, no, just…silent. If you didn’t know better you’d call him aggressively casual with the way his shoulders sit.
Stance relaxed but the underlying threat was palpable on the wind. Like a wolf rubbing his cheeks on the ancient trees of his territory. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ - it seems his very DNA states that.
Brown eyes suddenly lock with your own as if snapping into place and before you can release a squeak of alarm, you swiftly dart your gaze away back to the arguing Sergeants; face burning.
Christ, how long had you been staring at him?
“Alright, you two, ease off it!” Trying to distract yourself, you wave a hand. “You’re both too drunk to be gettin’ into street fights at this hour. Johnny, into the car ya fool.”
Your brother slashes you with a grin.
“Fuckin’ finally, a decent bed!” It was tradition to give Johnny the spare room when he was back home—proper meals.
“You’re callin’ mother, y’know.” You unlock your car and motion to the passenger seat with a frown. “I dinnae care if you’re trapped for hours—give the woman a rest of all her worrying.”
“You heard the woman, Sergeant,” John forces the gravel out of his throat, rubbing at his beard. Something hits your chest as your brother opens his door as you stand in the cold. You glance at each man in turn; eyebrows pulling in with thought.
“Ah, what the hell,” your voice huffs out. Ghost watches you closely, blinking as he lifts a hand to itch at his neck from under his hood. The leather jacket crumples with tiny shifts of worn-out material.
“Don’t suppose you boys need any good beds to rest your heads on for the night?” Wiggling your keys, you pat the top of your Hillman as you slide to the driver's side. Johnny slinks inside his own and chuckles as he closes the barrier with a careful thunk.
“Hospitality finally leakin’ in?”
“Next time I hit ya,” you send him a bland look, “I’ll aim for the neck.” Fake flinching towards him, the man squeaks and snaps quickly back into the car door as you snicker lively.
“Beast!” Johnny exclaims. You roll your eyes and shimmy down the window behind him, calling out as the rest share glances.
“Get in if you’re comin’ over! If not all the food I made yesterday’ll go to waste!” That seemed to get Gaz into the back, with only Price and Simon left behind.
Brown meets blue and John’s beard pulls back with a smirk. He clears his throat, “Well, I’m not one to spit in her face.” The Captain walks over and grunts as he bends down.
Ghost sighs under his breath and follows, impartial as to where this night is going. He wouldn’t sleep tonight, no doubt. The hard and unforgiving beds on base were the only things he could rest on now save the ground. And food? He could go without food for days.
Though, being Johnny’s sister bought you some favor, trust wasn’t something that Simon gave around freely. But the car you drove was nice, and the company of his Task Force was easy to basque in until they shipped out again.
Simon sits down on the refurbished seat and softly closes the door behind him. Dead-eyed, he stares at Johnny’s headrest as you glance at him from the rearview mirror—seeing his shoulder dig into the glass of the window.
You shove down a joke and hum. “Good, then, it’ll free my fridge at the very least.”
“Thank you, Ma’am,” Gaz offers as you start up the engine, “it’s awfully nice of you to do this for us.”
“Ah,” Simon hears you dismiss as he turns to stare out of the window; so often feeling his gaze drawn back to you as a leaf attached to a tree might act. “Don’t worry your head about it. I like the company.”
“Aye, just how she is,” Johnny says earnestly. “Was always the one to let me over with my pals when the football games were over—’cept we were usually covered in mud.”
“I’m still finding grass in my rugs, Johnny Boy,” you mumble, focusing on the road as a slight squeaking emanates from the front of the car. Simon picks up on it easily, not preoccupied with speaking. He glances at you but mentions nothing beyond a shuffling of his thighs.
Outside the land slides past in shades of verdant green and gray as the town falls away.
He was confused, rightly. You’d seen his standoffish nature but had chosen to extend hospitality as the old Greeks did just off a growl of his name. But maybe it was just because he was your brother’s coworker.
Simon grunts to himself and rubs at his wrist. Throughout the ride, the two of you would glance at each other and try to forget that you had; when the long driveway of a large secluded home expands out above the car, Gaz whistles lowly.
“Bloody hell, Ma’am,” he states and John chuckles. You easily smile and roll your eyes.
“Trust me, it was more work than it was worth.” Ghost’s attention is slightly peaked.
“You worked on it?” His tone implies he doesn’t care, but his eyes gore into the mirror to lock with your own. Blinking in surprise, even the others seem to be taken aback by the man's lack of venom in his speech.
Ghost wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he needed to, but he didn’t do mindless chatter. Your eyes cycle between the driveway and the masked Brit before you clear your throat. Johnny glances at you with a raised brow, slight confusion in his brows.
“Mostly—left the nasty bits to people more knowledgeable than I am, but I did most of the grunt work, eh?” Simon hums as the car pulls to a stop inside the garage, eyes not leaving the back of your head.
Your neck bristles at the sensation of unrelenting contact, but the burning that joins it is telltale. Licking your lips you twist the keys out and quickly shuffle out of the door to dispel the electricity in the air.
“Alright,” you say, “out. All of ya…Johnny, you’ll be helping me with the bedding.”
A groan is cut by an unimpressed glare. “...Yes, Ma’am.”
You huff and smirk.
“Trainin’ him well I see,” teasing John as they all file out of the car, he shakes his head at the two of you as Simon scoffs. Gaz openly laughs as Soap’s offended look grows.
You all enter the house as you direct them to the kitchen after they’ve taken off their boots and hung their jackets. “It’s all in the fridge, heat what you want, and don’t bother fightin’ Johnny if he takes too much. Tell me and I’ll make him sleep in the back near the chickens.” Your voice tells them as you pat your brother on the shoulder.
Johnny grumbles and kisses the top of your head. “You’re horrible to me,” He jokes but his eyes shimmer with affection. As you leave to get a head start on the rooms, you smile and call out to him.
“That’s my job!”
Backing out into the hallway, you leave with a deep well of happiness in you. You don’t even realize that the party had only contained three men instead of four until you’re in the linen closet and a shadow suddenly blacks out the light from the bulbs. Jumping slightly, your head swivels as you carry very many sheets and pillowcases in your grip.
“Oh,” you mumble through cotton, smile growing as the flip in your stomach does, “Ghost! Done eating already?”
The man is still and silent as he glances from your face to the sheets. Without a word, he halves the load and steals them as your jaw loosens in shock.
“Johnny’s outside callin’ your mum.” Ghost turns and walks out, but waits for you in the hallway to be directed.
You push down the tightness to your throat and see the man’s feet shift on the hardwood. He looks funny, such a big man carrying bed sheets. His actions make your heart speed up. Brown eyes blink at you like a cat.
“Well,” you chuckle, “always was one to get out of housework.” Trying a smidge more, you shift past him and turn off the light. “His barracks room dirty?”
“Pigsty.” Simon blandly states, walking slightly behind you. Your pace slows so you can stay beside him. He side-eyes you but says nothing.
Leaning in slightly, you quip as Ghost tenses, “Can’t say I’m surprised. The man’s used to me bailin’ him out.” Chuckling, you go into the first bedroom and put everything on the bed.
Simon grabs the pillows and starts to dress them quickly and efficiently.
“But thank you,” you say, and the Brit pauses to look up at you, something swirling in his murky gaze. Earnestly, you tilt your head with a smile. “Ya can go back and eat more if you want. No need to help—you’re a guest.”
“Not hungry,” is all he answers, and gets back to work. You watch for a moment, perplexed, but not at all about to deny the assistance. A genuine grin twitches your lips.
“Johnny writes about you, y’know,” your fingers pull at the fabric and you chuckle as Ghost’s incredulous look turns to you—face hidden but confusion is obviously seen. “Says he looks up to you quite a bit; something about Mexico.”
Your face dips slightly, and Simon’s body stills. Along the pillow, his grip carefully tightens. He can’t find it in himself to walk out of the door and stand outside even if he knows he should.
“I really can’t imagine what it’s like,” you mutter, shaking your head. Gazing at him, you study his wound muscles and secret flesh like a tapestry—wondering if he hides himself because of the safe anonymity or a sense of numb fear.
He wouldn’t admit to either, you know. But something about Simon had captured your attention and now you had a face, or just a body really, to put to the written name like a puzzle piece.
You take a long breath, “But you’ll never know how grateful I am.”
By the way his chest stops moving and his body goes frozen, you think you hit something inside of him; the minute widening of his eyelids like pedals opening in the light. Simon peers at your expression, his eyes sliding from one point to another.
Like he can’t really pinpoint what you want.
Ironic really, because you didn’t want anything.
“Don’t thank me,” is what he settles on, moving back to the pillow as if your words hadn’t stabbed him. “Johnny knows what he’s doing.”
Your small snort enters the air above the sliding sheets. “There’s no argument there.” A sigh echoes as you finish up, putting your hands on your hips. Across the bed, you two stare as Simon tosses down the pillows. The remainder of the sheets sit on the end of the bed.
The man’s eyes narrow on you, and he clenches his jaw under his balaclava.
“The only thing that I do know is that every time my brother comes back he smiles less than he did before.” You side-eye him seriously as you move. “I can only guess what all of it does to the others who don’t have anyone else to go back to.”
Simon’s breath halts in his chest before he finds the means to take down a slow inhale. Brown eyes glare intently, jaw tight, but it’s not the fire that gets to you…it’s the lack thereof.
Ghost doesn’t like this feeling, and your candidness was something he hadn’t expected.
“So,” you drawl, “I’m thanking you for giving him someone to joke around with—a distraction,” a teasing smirk, “no matter how blunt.”
“I just told you—”
“Well, I don’t bloody care, do I?” Huffing, you smirk and tip your head back before snatching the rest of the sheets. “C’mon, we have three more rooms.”
Simon watches you leave and tries to fight the rampage in his chest; the merciless slam of his heart to his ribcage. What had you done to him? A hand comes up and rubs into the bridge of his nose, fingers heavy and tight.
What in the hell was going on?
Growling under his breath, Ghost stalks out of the room only to see your back disappear into the next. In the hallway, he takes a long inhale and closes his eyes to steady himself.
“Fuckin’ hell,” the man grunts. The tension in his shoulders was plainly visible.
For the remainder of the room, Ghost would send you tight glances as he worked but didn’t utter another peep. You had taken his voice, or what little left of it there was.
In many ways, you were like your loudmouth brother—your snark and your stubbornness. But you were different too.
He feels his eyes trail down your form slowly from time to time. Capable; hardy. Simon blinked away and grunted under his breath aggressively.
When everyone was done with their food and Johnny had come back in from his call to his mother, with a soft smile on his face, you knew it was time for bed.
“Alright,” you strut into the kitchen with Ghost on your heels—his large arms crossed over his chest as he caught Soap's intense stare. The Lieutenant's brow raises, but Johnny only frowns in conspiracy before he looks over to you and itches at his chin. “Beds are made. You can all thank Simon for that, seein’ as Johnny used our mother as an excuse yet again.”
“And she was very pleased to hear from me!” Your brother points to you.
“She’s our mother,” you deadpan, “It’s her job to be, ya arse-face.”
The boys all follow you down the halls as you point to the rooms. Gaz shakes your hand again and gives you a tiny hug in thanks while John pats your shoulder and calls a soft, “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
Both close their doors and you hear the large sighs through the wood. You have to wonder when they’d had a good bed to sleep on and a good meal. Last was your brother and Ghost, the latter of which kisses your head and hugs you tightly.
“It’s good to see you, truly. Been missing you, little Hen. Thanks for lettin’ me over all the time when I’m home.” You melt and grip his shirt.
“You’ll always have a place here, you know that. One call away…Now go to sleep. You smell like a pub.” He lightly chuckles against you. With a bond this tight, the two of you never had to say that you loved each other—it was just known.
Johnny squeezes you one last time before pulling away and slinking into his room, giving an unrecognizable glance to Ghost on his way in before the barrier slips into place with a quiet thunk of wood. The two of you look at and stare for a moment.
“Lucky you,” your voice is quiet but easy to hear, “you get the room with a view of the field.”
“Color me surprised,” he mutters, not looking enthusiastic. Against the tone, the look makes your mouth jerk in a laugh, and you cover your lips after a moment.
Simon’s eyes unconsciously soften.
You wave a hand, chest light, “Let’s go then, you brute.”
“Brute?” Simon grumbles, “Gettin’ familiar?”
“Please,” you shake your head and walk to the last door in this section of the house. “You all became familiar the second we met.”
The man rolls his eyes but has his smirk hidden as you open the door for him. He tilts his head in thanks and strolls inside.
You hum, crossing your arms ahead of you and leaning on the doorframe as he looks around, “Don’t think too much over it… The baseline is, you’ll always have a bed here if you need it.”
Ghost slips out, “What are you? Bloody boarding house?” The swelling in his chest made his words harsher than intended, but you just smile cheekily at him as eyes lock.
“Hell’s bells, if you want ta’ get me a business card just go ahead and print ‘em off already. I’ve no problem with it.” He stares and you laugh, shrugging. “Makes me feel good.”
Splaying your hands, you back out.
“I know you probably won’t sleep,” Simon pauses, feeling caught but not showing it. “Libraries down the hall—if you smoke, use the back door. Kitchen is free game.”
“Why?” He asks and you blink, confused.
“Well, why not?” Simon glares.
“You shouldn’t trust people like that.” A loud laugh echoes and makes the man annoyed with you.
“Simon,” you say, and he finds himself hanging on every word that falls from your lips in the moonlight. “Not everyone is out to get you. If you’re friends of Johnny’s, then you’re friends of mine. That boy can sniff a cheat faster than a hound can find a hare.” Perhaps it was the way his shoulders went back at that, or how his brows loosened, but you finish off with a soft explanation. “You’re safe under this roof.”
You wondered, not for that last time that night, if he��d ever been told that. From how his balaclava moved with a sharp jerk of his jaw, you assumed never. It made your lungs hurt.
With a few more seconds of quiet gazing you nod and move back.
“Goodnight, Simon.” You leave him staring at the door as you close it—eyes boring into the grain so harshly they might catch fire.
Ghost doesn’t know how long he stays like that, but his ears twitch at the echo of running water and soundless footsteps. He should leave, he tells himself; this is dangerous, a voice hisses. It’s not safe here, how could it be? There were no guards—no weapons. If someone were to sneak in there wouldn’t be an alarm.
A secluded home. Nothing around.
Then why had your words seeped into him?
“You’re safe under this roof.” Simon closes his eyes harshly.
—
In the morning once everyone’s gone back to the base, you admit you don’t know if you’ll see Simon again; you probably won’t. But you find that you can live with that. The memory of his loosening tension is all you need to feel special in your own right. Those brown eyes that, if but for a moment, had bled so effortlessly feelings of something other than blood and death.
As you sigh a dreamy chuckle to yourself, you get ready for the day before heading to your Hillman. The silent drive to work joins with the strange mix of weight and levitation to your chest. But halfway into town, it hits you.
Silent.
There is an obvious lack of squeaking from under the hood of your car as you slide along the countryside.
The smile doesn’t leave your face for weeks.
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In father’s embrace
synopsis: HSR men as dads and what your family dynamic is like.
pairings: Blade, Gepard, Loucha, Sampo, Jing Yuan x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, implied initial mortal x immortal in Blade’s
word count: 5.2k words
a/n: Luofu Xianzhou timeline is hell, so Blade’s one is quite vague.
Here’s the Genshin version!
Blade
Blade tends to say that he has no connection to his past, but that is not true and very few (mostly Kafka) know he is lying. Even with his life and death fucked up he can't simply let go of someone his heart has been always full with, of someone who he promised himself to by the altar, even if under another name, of someone, who gifted him the joy of both his previous and current life - your daughter.
The blade - a cold weapon with no feelings - should not experience being lucky, but that’s what he was, when you clutched him in your arms the first time after his return from the dead and sobbed in his chest, telling him how much you missed him, how much his little angel missed him.
Back then he should've left without a trace, maybe even coming to you in the first place was a mistake, but he just couldn't. And his resolve crumbled completely when a white-haired toddler in your arms gazed at him with the same soft eyes as yours and reached out to his face, hesitantly asking "dada?".
As much as Blade is capable - he loves you and your daughter. He is quite absent due to his involvement with the Stellaron Hunters, but you understand how important that magenta-haired woman's ability is when it comes to restraining the mara in his body. After all that's the reason why he can visit without fear of hurting you or his little girl.
Some other sacrifices had to be made - one of them was moving from the Lofu Xianzhou, but that was alright and your daughter loved her new environment. Besides, dada has been visiting more often ever since you moved! And no one really bothered or chased after you (after all, you are still registered as his wife and higher ups of Lofu know), which, you assumed, was somehow connected with a young girl that once came with Blade.
Kafka once brought up a proposition of moving you two to the Stellaron Hunters' base for Blade's easier access, but he declined. At least his loved ones should have a peaceful everyday life.
With a tired sigh the black-haired man lowers himself on a sofa in the living room of the house you two purchased to start a seemingly new life. The red-hot iron in his eyes disappears behind the heavy eyelids and for a moment Blade allows himself to relax. The little wonder, that is his daughter, ran to your bedroom to fetch some hair accessories, after you encouraged your husband to let her style his long locks.
He doesn’t move when you sit next to him, hip to hip and heart to heart. He welcomes your sneaking fingers, curling his, creating a secure lock of hands. The weight of your head resting on his shoulder is grounding and he can’t help but press his cheek against it.
It’s soothingly silent.
It almost reminds him of the past.
“For how long will you be staying this time?
Even your question, spoken in a tender, understanding voice, is familiar. You used to ask him the same thing in-between his Cloud Quintet-related missions.
These days it’s difficult to sneak and see you during breaks though.
“Fifteen days,” his breath is even, and eyes are still shut, but he senses a smile that tugs on the corners of your lips.
“That’s a lot. She will be so happy,” and he knows that you are as well.
The rapid stomping of little feet bursts into your peaceful serenity, and you simultaneously glance at the doorway. Low and behold - the soon-to-be hair stylist is proudly running into the room, tightly clutching your jewelry box with various hair pins inside.
“Dad, I practiced! Mom says I’ve been making huuuuuuge progress!”
A tiny smile touches his pale lips - it’s such a miracle that a monster like him is blessed to have the most adorable child in the whole universe. With her and you by his side, this life gets more and more bearable.
“If mom says you’ve been, then it must be the truth,” he nods, letting go of your hand - but not before giving it a little affectionate stroke with his thumb, - sliding down and onto the floor, turning his back to the girl.
Giggling excitedly, she gives you the box, which you quickly unlock, and starts looking through the many intricate pieces of jewelry (many are your beloved’s presents), until finding the perfect one.
Having his hair being touched is weird. He was aware that the white luscious locks used to draw attention, but only you were honored to run your fingers through them, and only his baby was allowed to tug on them, making her father wince. Now it’s different - she is oh so careful, brushing, collecting stray locks and braiding, not once causing him pain.
Blade sighs again, but looks at you from the corner of his eye, catching you snickering in your palm upon gazing at something that your daughter is turning his hair into. Well, that’s concerning.
But at this very moment he can’t bring himself to care. If he gets fifteen whole days before his next mission, he is going to savor this time with his family - no matter how disastrous he’s going to look by the end of it.
Gepard
A family man. So no one was surprised when in the end the leader of the Silvermane Guards ended up with three kids - two sons and a daughter. Partly it was dictated by the rules of nobles and his family among them, but ultimately it was your mutual sincere decision.
It’s obvious he is not there for many of his kids’ first times, as sometimes his duties prevail and even the Supreme Guardian cannot help it, but he really-really tries to be there as much as possible. He appreciates the videos you send him, has every single one stored in his phone’s memory and sometimes, when there is no communication, in his spare moment he replays them to remind himself that soon he’ll return home and see his kids and you.
Only one time he really fucked up because of work - during your first pregnancy you both underestimated the soon arrival of your due date and he left on a mission with his troops, reassured that he’ll be back before the day you go into labor. The snowstorm was severe and the connection was cut, so the message Serval sent him when your water broke was not delivered. His soldiers would bring to their graves the image of a deathly pale Gepard, when many hours later he checked his phone back at the base and nearly broke the screen, trying to type his sister’s number.
After that he started taking paternity leave seriously.
You do not keep in touch with his parents a lot - there were instances where they disapproved of you, but all of his siblings are always welcomed in your house and to see their nephews and niece, because they supported your relationship from the moment they met you in flesh.
Serval is an enormous help when it comes to babysitting. It’s like her part-time job honestly - you even offered to pay her, but she declined, suggesting offering her a helping hand whenever she’d need instead. Oh, and to be the first one out of all the Landau siblings (after her brother, of course) to know about the latest updates on your kids.
The kids that are adorable. All three won the ‘blue eyes’ lottery, which, given the previous generations of Landau, is not a big surprise; both boys look like Gepard, while the girl took more after you in appearance. The man really doesn’t want to play favorites, but sometimes he is just too weak for his little princess, who looks just like her mom. She is the youngest too with a pretty big age gap between her and her brothers, who were born a year apart, so there is literally no jealousy, because your sons took their father’s example and became her protectors.
Even from a 'big bad dragon' that is their aunt…
When you step inside your house and hear the kids still fussing somewhere in the rooms, involuntarily your gaze falls to the old grandfather’s clock in the foye. Almost midnight. All three should be long asleep with Serval sending you a notification of her success. Which you didn’t receive and for that reason had to cut your date short and hurry back home.
Your husband looks as concerned as you are, locking the door and straining his ears to determine what’s going on. With both your coats abandoned, you carefully step further into the house, making your way to the line of light coming from under one of the doors.
Two jaws almost kiss the floor when you see Serval lying on the floor tied and gagged with a scarf. Alone. For a moment you fear the worst.
Rushing inside, you let Gepard search the other rooms for intruders. Helping your sister-in-law to sit is no problem, but the knot behind her head is awfully tightened. In the end you manage to yank it down to free her mouth, quickly switching to the rope constricting her hands.
“Y/n, oh my god,” she gasps, finally able to speak. “Who taught your sons to tie knots like this!? I didn’t know a sixteen- and fifteen-year olds can be so strong-”
“Come again?” Stunned, you stop untying her wrists, looking at the woman with widened eyes. Your boys did what?
“My precious nephews - whom I really do not want to strangle - took the game of knights too seriously, and when - maybe a half an hour ago? - I decided to play the dragon who was stealing the princess - my niece of three years, - they attacked and tied me!”
“Huh…” is all you can say, feeling relief wash over you. At least there are no burglars or kidnappers and your kids are safe.
When, listening Serval’s huffs of complaints, you move to untie her legs, the heavy steps of your husband are heard in the hallway, accompanied by the boys whining and begging their dad not to come to the living room, because the dragon would eat their sister.
His tall figure appears in the doorway, with your daughter in his arms, looking very sleepy, and two almost carbon copies of their dad pulling at his jacket to give them their sister back.
“Serval, what in blazes have you told them?” The judging tone and the squint of his blue eyes are directed at his elder sibling.
“It was just a game, Geppie! A silly game they turned into reality.”
“Aunt said she’d eat her,” your oldest pouts, eyeing her cautiously. “And she told us stories about the cannibals the other night-”
“Serval, you what?”
“Hey, they asked me to! Oh, thanks, Y/n,” she shrugs the loosened rope off of her. “Where did you even get this?”
“Aunt Lynx gave us,” the second son chirps, hugging Gepard’s side. “She showed us how to do knots.”
“This little-”
Suddenly you feel a headache coming. With big family come big challenges, but something of this caliber hasn’t happened in a while. It makes you smile though - you almost forgot what it was like - to raise two boys. Seems like your girl brings the borderline naughtiest out of them.
Loucha
To begin with it's worth mentioning that your and Loucha's marriage started as an unpredictable necessity. You both needed to enter the world that allowed only married foreigners' access. So, quickly figuring that your goal matches, you got married on a neighboring planet, spent a month there to make the marriage more believable in the sense of its duration and learning more about each other. Yeah, all of that just to fulfill your respectful jobs. You invented and rehearsed all the possible answers to the questions, perfected your affectionate act and were actually feeling quite comfortable around each other.
It was almost funny, when on the 'how many kids do you plan to have?' Loucha confidently answered 'two', and a couple of years later your first son was born, and then, after 7 more years, another one was too.
Admittedly, the oldest one was kind of unplanned, but at that point you traveled so much together, shared so many memories, even ended up caring for each other on a lover-like level, that you decided to give it a shot, just like you did with the continuation of your marriage.
And Loucha couldn't be more pleased. Surprisingly, he found the peace of those first years he spent settled down to raise your boy delightful. And there was something exciting about having a little wonder with a perfect mix of both of your features in your arms, as your husband's hand is resting on the small of your back, leading you through the crowds of the new planet's lively market, as the child's eyes shine with marvel, taking in his surroundings.
When Loucha suggested having another one it simply felt right.
Your sons are so lucky in the sense of seeing the universe, because their father is a traveling merchant. Sure, he doesn't always take you and your two boys with him, but whenever his deal allows him enough freedom and your kids are doing great in school and can be taken on a little vacation - you three are going with him.
Usually he gets to take care of the youngest one, since only Loucha's vast knowledge can satisfy his curiosity, while the oldest one calmly walks hand in hand with you, content with listening to their conversation and pointing out to you the things he already knows himself, receiving a soft praise from you and an approving nod from his father.
Back home the roles reverse - the oldest is spending most of his time with Loucha to learn all about medicine and healing techniques, while the youngest is more interested in sharing your hobbies.
The two hardly ever quarrel as siblings tend to do, and it must be because of the overall serene atmosphere of your family dynamic, your soft nature and your husband's tranquil behavior.
More than a decade ago Loucha wouldn't have imagined himself with a wife and kids. Nowadays, however, he doesn't like the thought of not having the three of you by his side.
It is a quiet afternoon. A little house you rented for a little vacation has a nice yard - perfect for the kids to have fun outside. You occasionally glance at them from the window of the kitchen to make sure everything is fine, while your hands never stop moving - washing, cutting, stirring.
At some point you are so caught in the moment of tranquility, that you do not hear your husband walking in, until he softly hums to alert you of his presence, and puts his palms on your waist.
“Smells delicious,” you smile, feeling his chin on your shoulder, and grab a piece of a tangerine you are meaning to use for dessert, offering it to him.
“Mhm, I am trying to cook what we had yesterday at that restaurant.”
Ah, right, the restaurant the kids enjoyed. He remembers how you sneaked to the kitchen and came back with a little less credits, but with new recipes and an excited smile on your face.
“Hopefully my rendition will be to our boys’ liking. And don’t think I forgot about you - those Loufu Xianzhou-style noodles are already on their way!”
“So thoughtful of you, darling,” his silky voice caresses your ear and not a second later a kiss is pressed to your cheek. “Do you need any help?”
“Weren’t you busy?” You decide to clarify, clearly recounting how he locked himself in one of the rooms earlier that day to test something. To your question Loucha shakes his head.
“All done already. And I missed you and the kids.”
“Then go and play with them,” you urge, turning to face him to offer a sweet smile. “I’ll handle it here, but the boys could use some quality time with their father.”
“You say that as if they didn’t drag us all around the city yesterday and then climb into our bed and refuse to leave.”
“I mean, it’s the first time in two months they properly see you. That last deal of yours was exceptionally time-consuming.”
“You kept me updated on them so well and those video calls we had… it didn’t even feel like I ever left.”
You only huff and return your gaze to the stove, yet leaning into his chest a little. For a minute it’s quiet, and the man is taking his time before parting from you. That is until he takes a deep inhale and nuzzles his face in your neck.
“Thank you, Y/n.”
“What for, handsome?” There is that teasing lilt in your voice he came to love. Over the course of your lives together he discovered many things to love you for, and if not for that desperate decision to get married - he thinks he’d hardly ever feel the same about his life.
“For everything.”
He leaves your side with a kiss on your shoulder and the next time you glance out of the window again - he is already there, hoisting his youngest in one arm and chasing after the oldest one with his hair swaying in the gentle wind. And your heart is at peace.
Sampo
In all his life Sampo has managed to never impregnate a single woman and he considers that a success. For all the crap people speak about him Sampo is not an idiot, even though he acts like a fool at times. He is extremely self-aware and bringing a child to this world is probably the last thing on his list.
But no one said anything about someone else’s child, right?
Your and Sampo’s relationship is… strange, not going to lie. One evening you happened to help a scared woman to escape from some drunkards (whom you lately found out were the Silvermane Guards, sober and on duty), only for the long wig to slip and the heavy coat to slide down, revealing shortly cut but nicely styled hair and obviously male broad shoulders. The only thing the man managed to get out was a sheepish “hehe”.
And boy did that “hehe” change your life.
That day Sampo Koski got off the hook, since you didn’t comment anyhow and just let him go, which, given you were an overworlder, he found intriguing. So he dug a little bit, out of pure curiosity. Besides, this man didn't like staying in debt to someone and he needed information to see how he could pay you back.
That’s when he found out you were a single mother. An opera singer, but divorced and with full custody over a six-year old daughter.
And honestly, he didn’t give it much thought at first. He simply arranged a nice bouquet of red roses for you, paid Natasha a little for a handmade plushie and left it all at the door steps with a ‘thank you’ note.
Until a couple of weeks ago, disguised again, he didn’t stumble into a group of kids obviously bullying a little girl, mocking her for not having a father, and throwing something among themselves that she tried to catch. And he recognized the toy. And one glance was enough to see how much she looked like the woman he met only once. And against his better judgment Sampo walked to the children, easily snatching the toy and effectively scaring everyone off. Only with that little girl still being there, eyes full of unshed tears and fingers digging in the skirt of her pretty dress.
That tiny ‘thank you’ when he handed the plushie back to her and she hugged it tightly to her chest made the conman’s heart clench, and for the second time that day he sent his plans to hell, keeping her company near the house you lived in until you arrived from work.
That day he learned many things - how much your daughter loved the toy and what a sweet little thing she was, how tired a person can look and how much a throat can hurt from the whole day of singing during rehearsals, how nice a home-made dinner can be once you are invited, but most importantly - how even such a damned man like him can be gazed upon with gratitude and not from one, but two people.
From that day many other instances happened, but in the end he just stuck around. It was strange, it was new, but in a sense it was comforting, especially when you would come home - on Friday, for example, - and he’d be there, entertaining your daughter and then greeting you with a smile and a silly wave of his hand.
You don’t have a husband, and your daughter doesn’t have a father - but with his presence Sampo Koski manages to fill those voids even if a little bit.
Aeons you love days off. A morning to finally sleep in and do not run around like crazy in attempts to get yourself and your kid ready. Even breakfast wasn’t on you today, because the ‘silly man’ stayed the night and told you to get your sleep, assuring you with that confident puff of his chest that the Sampo Koski would offer you his best service, which effectively made you giggle.
Tonight he even cuddled with you, letting you bury your face in his neck and be a little vulnerable in the arms of a man with whom you had the most peculiar relationship ever. But after such equally peculiar moments you really start thinking of suggesting moving from the couch in the living room to your bedroom permanently. It’s been months already, who would’ve thought.
Barefoot and not even glancing at the robe on the chair near the window you leave the room, rubbing at your eyes and brushing your hair away from your face. You are craving the cup of your morning drink, and so you let your legs carry you to the kitchen at first. However two voices coming from your wardrobe room instantly peak your interest and make you halt in your walking. What on earth could your daughter and your clown of a man be doing there?
And soon enough you find it out.
“Sit still, please!” The girl begs with an eye shadow palette in one tiny hand and a huge brush in the other. “It’ll smudge if you keep turning to the mirror!”
“Just can’t wait to see how beautiful I am, princess, ‘s all~”
There, on the floor among the rows of your clothes and shelves with beauty products and accessories, none other than Sampo is sitting, willingly offering his face to your daughter’s practice of applying makeup. And gods he looks absolutely hilarious.
But that’s not what exactly concerns you.
“Is that my dress?” You point at the red shimmery thing snuggly sitting on the man in front of you and that’s when the two notice you.
“Yes, mommy!”
“Say I pulled it off, right?” With a smirk the green-eyed menace winks at you and it looks even worse with poorly done lashes. You have to stifle your laughter. “Though I must admit, we had to keep it unzipped - my chest appeared to be bigger than yours-”
And that’s when you regret not bringing slippers with you - one flying in his head would be of great help.
“Sometimes I really hate you.”
“Nuh, sweet thing, you love me!”
“Well,” you step closer, grabbing a tissue to try and fix at least the overly bright blush on his cheeks, “maybe. Maybe I actually do.”
Suddenly Sampo is tongue-tied and silent, trying very hard to fight off the stupid grin forcing its way onto his face. But with thoroughly smeared red lipstick on his mouth it looks so damn comical.
“Mom, do you think pa looks pretty?” Your daughter hopefully asks, putting aside her tools, and that little two-letter word doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. You feel a real blush burning under your deft fingers.
“Yes, sweety, Pa-mpo looks very pretty,” his head whips in your direction like you’ve just told him to go and surrender to the Belobog’s esteemed order keepers.
“...Pa-mpo?”
“Would you prefer Da-mpo instead?” Cocking your head in question, you smirk at him, relishing in the pout he is wearing at the moment. “Or maybe Sam-pa?”
“No, thank you very much,” he huffs. “Little princess called me ‘pa’, so be nice and respect it.”
And now it is you who is surprised. You haven’t really discussed with Sampo who he was to your daughter, and who she was to him - but if he is making this step of acknowledging the matter, then who are you to spoil it? Who knows, maybe things will work out quite pleasantly in the end.
“Alright, pa, I will respect that.”
“Hey! For you I am your precious popo baby, a koskiss to your lips, the love of your-”
“Don’t even dream of it.”
Jing Yuan
Yanqing would be enough of an answer to the kid question, but it is not. Sure, his young disciple is practically a son to the General, but it doesn't mean the man doesn't want his own children.
He does and he has. On multiple occasions Jing Yuan's subordinates walked in on him with a small figure sitting in his lap or perched on his strong arm, observing what the dad's been up to with his plans and documents. You scolded your husband for this many times, but the bastard only smiles and keeps stealing his daughter to work to keep him company. Or she sneaks on her own - that caused you many almost heart attacks when she was no older than a couple of decades.
For Jing Yuan it’s all good though - he gets to spend time with his baby and have you inevitably join him in search for your adventurous child.
The General has a separate folder for all the pictures of his daughter on his phone - every single one he takes and every single one you send him when he couldn’t bring his girl to some of his meetings (yet he really tried, until you put your foot down and saved many of his subordinates from the prolonging of said meetings). Even the background, hidden from prying eyes behind the passcode of your and her birthdays, is his little one, cradled in your arms, as the two of you are watching kites flying in the sky.
Yanqing at first was set on treating her with the same respect he does his mentor and you, his wife, but you quickly put an end to it, basically turning the boy into her older brother. He didn’t mind at all - if anything he is sometimes way too eager to push the two of you to go on a date so he can babysit. Often you would return to the two fast asleep either on the girl’s bed or cuddled to Mimi with toys scattered and at least two books lying on the floor. The huge lion adores the girl - sometimes you feel like it thinks of her as its own cub, and the thick mane of hair your daughter got from her father does not help.
And it appeared to be as eager to steal your daughter from you as your husband is…
“Y/n!” You practically jump when the doors to your bedroom fly open and Jing Yuan bursts inside. Immediately you notice his disheveled state - hair down and a mess, the robe he wore this morning for comfortable work in his home office is falling off one of his shoulders and a shoe is missing from his foot.
“Aeons, Yuan, don’t scare me like that,” you put a comb down on your vanity table and fully turn to face him. “What happened?”
“Is our precious baby with you?” He steps further into the room and starts looking around frantically. Okay, now that got worrisome.
“No? You took her earlier this afternoon after lunch to play in your study while you work. Have you really forgotten that? My love, you are getting old.”
You hear clearly as he curses under his breath, raking thick fingers through his hair. The golden eyes look at you and in them you spot a flicker of anxiety.
“...Jing Yuan, don’t tell me that you managed to lose our daughter.”
“I didn’t, I swear,” he winces at the full name usage, watching you rise from your seat and quickly approach him. “She was right by my side, watching the animal videos on my phone, but then I got immersed in the latest reports from the Sky-Faring Commission and when I finished whose - she was gone!”
“Uh, want me to call your phone? Maybe she still has it.”
To that he puts a hand in the robe’s pocket and brings out his device. Oh god.
“It was lying on the floor, still playing videos.”
“Okay, deep breaths,” you are not sure if you are telling it to him or to yourself, but you too take an inhale, meanwhile busying your hands with adjusting his clothes. “Even buried in work you’d still notice if a human sneaked in, right?” He nods. “And you’d notice if she left - she would’ve warned you about that.” He nods again, lips pursed and eyes staring at one point. “Yanqing is not as skilled to come unannounced and take her, and he wouldn’t do it without your permission, so-”
“Wait,” his hand catches yours and realization flashes in his features. “Mimi came.”
“...Mimi?” Before you can ask him to elaborate, your husband turns around and rushes out of the bedroom. Concerned and a little bit intrigued, you quickly follow.
In one of the rooms of your huge house the two of you finally find the lion, and Jing Yuan almost drops on the floor in relief when his girl is spotted in the animal’s embrace.
“Is she…sleeping?” You ask, glancing from behind his broad back.
“It appears so. Hey, Mimi,” the maned head lifts, two ambers taking in your appearances and a pleased huff is let out through the nose upon recognition.
“Well, my dear,” you pat his shoulder, shaking your head, “it appears that people were right - like the owner, like the pet. Congratulations, your lion took your habit of stealing our daughter to heart. Good luck prying her from it.”
“You say it like it’s something hard to do,” there it is, a confident smile is back on his face as he strides closer to the animal, ready to bend down and get his girl. Only for that lift of the corners of his lips to be gone when Mimi growls at him in a warning and shields your daughter’s little body with its head.
You only smirk and leave the scene to go and get your phone - there is no way you are not filming your husband dealing with the consequences of his own behavior.
#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#blade x reader#blade x fem!reader#gepard x reader#gepard landau x reader#gepard x fem!reader#loucha x reader#loucha x fem!reader#sampo x reader#sampo koski x reader#sampo x fem!reader#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x fem!reader#honkai star rail fluff#hsr fluff
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breaking up with rafe cameron (it lasts a day) !
your phone was blowing up furiously with notifications you didn't have to look at to know who it was. another text from your recently self-proclaimed ex-boyfriend pinged again.
'Where are you'
'Answer me.'
'I'm coming to your house'
'We're going to talk about this'
swiping off the messages from your lock screen and angrily flipping over your phone, you sat up in bed where you'd been sulking and threw off the covers.
he'd really hurt your feelings this time, off and gone doing god knows what (selling w barry) for days, usually without a single text. when you did finally get to see him, he had the audacity to be tense and mean towards you.
everyone knows about rafe's short temper, but you're the one who had to deal with it. after so much of letting him take it out on you - especially recently - and not having a spare second to love on your boyfriend, you'd had enough and stopped hanging around his house. shortly after, ending it through a single text.
the sound of his truck swerving into your driveway had you furrowing your brows and pouting, stomping down the stairs to lock the front door. as you reach out the twist the knob, it swings open and you're left stumbling back.
his mere presence towering over you wipes your confidence to say anything. forcing himself inside, he shuts the door behind him and inches closer to you - like a predator to their prey.
"you gonna explain, or what?" he asks, tauntingly slow as he looks down at you and your glossy eyes, trying to contain his anger.
"we're done, rafe. that's what," you push out, though admittedly failing at trying to stand your ground. with him here in front of you, what could you possibly have been so upset about? your memory fails you the longer you keep his intense gaze.
he scoffs and shakes his head, exhaling sharply through his nose to physically release his rage - though his jaw is still firmly clenched. "that's fuckin' rich."
"i'm serious. you're— you're never here. i'm all by myself at your house all the time. i just.. it's so lonely." after finally finding your words and letting them out, the both of you seem to relax a bit.
"baby, i— listen, i'm workin' a business now, okay? i got my own money, i'm.. providing. for you." he explains in a hurry, trying to hide how desperately he needs you back.
"i don't need any of that, rafe. i just want to be around you." your voice starts to trail off towards the end, partly because of the vulnerability but mostly because of his possible reaction.
as he runs his hands over his face to ease the tension between his brows, he lets out a sigh and stays silent for a moment.
"don't fucking scare me like that. you can just tell me this shit, don't have to go starting a bunch of nonsense." the words are followed by his hands dropping to his side, looking down at you more hurt than mad.
it has your heart melting and your head nodding before looking down, letting out a bold but harmless mumble. "still mad at you though.."
the arm hooking around the back of your neck tugs you into his chest, free hand messily working through your hair to pull you firmer against him. his lips plant possessively on the crown of your head before murmuring, "jesus christ."
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