#still have no idea how those work and I’m not sure if it’s what I was looking for

[orangekittyenergy]

On Tails and Horns

NSFW Rolan Fic

Tags: NSFW, 18+ only, tail touching, horn stroking, dry humping, first kiss, touch starved Rolan, she/her Female Tav, mostly sexy flirting but with smut at the end, basically all angst and anticipation really, I guess subRolan

Words: 6000 (once again this got completely out of hand)

Summary: Tav finally goes to visit Rolan in his new tower after a hard couple weeks of cleanup. Rolan is so delighted to see her and pent up with frustration and feelings that the lightest of touches is enough to make him lose all sense of himself.

Read below or direct on AO3

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Tav and Rolan sat in his sitting room for tea, perched together, far closer than Rolan had intended, on the plush couch. The velvet couch was one of the many opulent vestiges from the previous owner. Books and scrolls aside, it certainly didn’t hurt to now occupy a fully furnished tower. The large vaulted windows were flung open wide, letting in a soft breeze and low hum from the movements of the city far below.

Rolan had been delighted when she came to visit. Tav had been so busy with helping the issues in the damaged city he hadn’t been quite sure when he would see her again. But he couldn’t deny the way his heart sang when she strolled through the doors over an hour ago, hoping to catch up with him now that she had a moment to breathe. Him, of all people.

But now here they sat; having discussed the details of both of their new lives, how life in the tower and store were going, the efforts to clean up the city, and the question of what lay next seemed to hover in the air.

Tav set her cup down on the side table and gave him a soft look.

“Thank you for taking time for me. I know you’ve been busy. But I really needed this.” She said and shot him what looked like an almost shy smile. Rolan blinked hard at her, surprised at her words as much as the look on her face.

“Thank...hah! I should be thanking you. Consistently and forever.” He set his own empty cup down as well. “I would have nothing were it not for you.”

“Oh, don’t pretend to be modest. You know you were amazing in the courtyard at that battle; I don’t know if we could’ve made it through without your help.” Tav reminded him.

Rolan cocked his head, looking away a moment in thought.

“Yes, I suppose I was rather amazing. I guess Cal and Lia helped some but my spells really sealed the fate of those wretched mind-flayers.” He mused with a slight smile. Tav always knew how to stroke his ego.

“But...really...thank you, Rolan. I’ve been meaning to visit sooner. I’m still staying at the Elfsong. Maybe we can do this again? Maybe dinner perhaps?” She said, almost casually. Just tossing asking him to dinner out there as if it was nothing. 

His breath caught in his throat. Dinner. His mind rang with the word as it seeped into every corner of his brain; trying to wrap his head around what that could possibly mean. Was she asking him out? That couldn’t be so. It was casual. Two friends catching up. But still, his mind immediately pictured the scene; dinner and wine at the Elfsong. He’d love to see her in something more dressy. No, that was ridiculous. She must have dozens of suitors.

"Ahem...dinner, yes. That... would be a fine idea..” He spoke haltingly, trying to fill the silence with words, any words, while he was still trying to work through the idea in his head, a thousand different scenarios crashing together at once.

As he struggled with this concept; it seemed the deepest part of his desires to be close to her, to get to know her in possibly more than a friendly setting, that he has previously pushed away, had bubbled up again and his body decided to act for him.

Tav felt a movement on her leg and shivered.

She looked down to see Rolan’s tail curled gently but insistently around her leg just above her knee, the tip trailing down to rest on her calf. He followed her gaze and his eyes widened with shock at the impudence and betrayal of his own tail. Before he could utter out the immediate string of curses and apologies that flew into his head, in that split second of fear that gripped him, Tav moved quicker and he froze.

She raised her hand from her thigh and gently placed it on the exposed section of tail atop her leg. All thoughts fled from Rolan’s head as a hiss and a full body shudder rolled through him at her whisper light touch.

The shiver extended all the way through his tail and Tav immediately raised her hand off it as if she had been shocked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I should've asked first-"

She started as he spoke at the same time.

"I am very sorry about that damn tail, I -" he paused, her words finally reaching his muddled brain. "Ask?" The word almost caught in his throat as he choked it out, incredulous. He caught her eyes flutter down to the offending tail, still around her leg, then back up to his meet his eyes with a blush. A blush? What did she have to blush about? It was his tail that got him into this predicament.

"Yes, sorry. I'm so sorry Rolan, I've heard tails can be sensitive...I should've asked first...it was just...it was right there." She gave a nervous chuckle and glanced away.

Wonderful, now I've done and mucked everything up, Rolan thought. The mere mention of dinner from her lips had left him already in shambles, unable to even control his own cursed tail. He frowned and cleared his throat, trying to still the building throbbing in his chest and regain his usual demeanor.

"No. I mean, yes, you should have." He said brusquely at first. Her eyes flickered away again and he quickly added. "They...uh...can be sensitive in some areas, yes." He swallowed thickly suddenly quite unsure of what to say. Tav met his eyes for a brief moment then looked back down. Rolan followed her gaze, already knowing full well what he would find and saw his damned tail, somehow wrapped, so it seemed, even tighter around her leg. He cleared his throat again but made no attempt to move it despite his nerves screaming at him.

"So, can I?" Tav spoke, pulling his attention back to her face. It was tilted down but her eyes peered up at him in what seemed to be a deliberately maddening pose.

"Can you....?" He hesitated, he was sure she couldn't be asking what he thought she was asking.

"Can I touch your tail?" She finished boldly. Rolan eyed her a moment, and swallowed thickly, his brain swirling with a million thoughts and his hands starting to tremble. He crossed his arms and tried to seem nonchalant about the entire situation and realized he was failing miserably.

"Sure. Yes. You may." He uttered, hoping his voice didn't waver.

Tav reached back out, hand tentative but confident and placed her palm again on the flesh of his tail where it rested on her leg.

The sensation was like a blaze of fire through his already burning hot veins. He bit down on his tongue, hard, to avoid another offending shiver and felt his eyelids flutter, betrayal of his own self control.

Thankfully, Tav’s eyes remained fixed on his tail, not noticing the immediate and dramatic way it affected him. Or, he realized, she might be tactful enough to be avoiding his face. Her touch became more firm as she well and truly let the full weight of her hand fall on it.

A sharp hiss of air escaped his clenched teeth as her hand moved slightly and her eyes finally returned to his.

"Is this okay?" She asked. Her voice was hushed, almost...he struggled to place her tone...reverent?

"Yes, yes it's fine." He breathed out, forcing himself to let the tension in his jaw relax. She began to ease her hand up slightly, tracing the bumps and ridges with her fingertips, digits gently paving the path for her palm to follow.

Rolan felt himself flush and wondered if Tav could tell the difference between his usual ruddy hue and the deeper scarlet of his blushes.

"Does it feel....good?"

His eyes had purposefully wandered but now snapped back to hers and narrowed slightly. Her expression was unreadable and even as her haunting words echoed in his ears he, again, couldn't sense the meaning behind her tone. Did she want it to feel good? Or was it pure curiosity that caused her to ask such a charged question?

And what’s more; how should he answer?

"It...does. The tail...my tail...seems to get more sensitive the higher up it goes." He tried to answer factually, logically even. It was true after all, but as quickly as the words left his mouth he realized the possible connotation of them. An invitation even. The corners of Tav’s lips flickered with a smile and her brow raised almost imperceptibly.

"Hmmm." Was the only response she gave. But her hand continued it's ascending exploration of his tail. It was now beyond the section just on her leg and was continuing on to where it dipped down a touch by his own legs.

Leaning forward slightly to extend her reach, she continued her careful mapping of the ridges, which were getting more and more pronounced as his tail progressed. She touched him as if she wished to memorize every single bump and pore; with a tenderness he couldn’t recall ever feeling before. The feeling was indescribable, but undeniably sensual. 

Rolan felt another shudder roll through him and couldn't contain this one. He felt it vibrate through his whole body all the way through and to the very tip of his tail and it gave a little flicker of movement against her calf. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or not that this one, as it trembled it's way down through his tail, didn't scare her hand away.

He stared at her hard, suddenly frustrated at her tender movements. Did she know how good it felt? Was she teasing him on purpose? To what bloody end? It was one thing to be touched so tenderly after so long, it was quite another to have his once detested bumps and ridges being the subject of such adoration. It was altogether brutal to have it be by someone that he wasn't even sure had further intentions with him. Other than being some...strange creature to fascinate over.

He squeezed his eyes shut. No matter how good it felt, how long he had wanted this, how soft her touch was, he had to stop this.

"I think-" he popped open his eyes intending on telling her to cease her activity but found that she had shifted while he battled internally and was now right beside him, her hips almost brushing against his own, her eyes firmly locked on his, watching his reactions carefully.

He wasn't just a subject of curiosity for her. He didn't know what she thought or what the intent was, but the burning in her eyes told him that it was far more than pure detached curiosity. He swallowed away his angry words, the frustration leaving him immediately, burned away by the heat of her gaze.

Her arm was now stretched out as far as it could go, ending just where his tail dipped down beside his thigh, before it would continue back up in a curve to reach the base. Incidentally, she had reached the point right where it started to become truly sensitive. It would've been positively indecent to let her continue.

His heart drummed hard in his chest, so loud he was certain she could hear it. He should end this, for decency’s sake alone. But couldn’t bring himself to conjure the words. A larger part of him was also so very desperate for her to continue; to see how far her boldness would take her. Take them. The two battling halves of his mind fought internally against each other. His mind fractured behind too many carefully crafted layers of strict composure.

He didn't have to struggle long. With a scoot of her hips again, her thighs well and truly pressed against his now, her arm bent at the elbow, giving her room to continue should she wish.

Rolan sucked in a sharp hiss of air at this development and stared at her carefully. Her eyes never left his. Her hand still firmly in place. The very air between them felt electric as if there was some magic from an unspoken spell being cast.

"Can I keep going?" She asked with a breath. His chest ached and again it took him a moment to register something. His need and eagerness for her touch along with his conflicting thoughts at the budding situation had made his senses dull. But as her words rang in his ears he heard something unmistakable. A nervous waver. In her voice. The slightest quiver. Of excitement or nerves; it could be either but he would take it. She was usually so, confident. Commanding even. To hear even a hint of a nerve in her voice at this situation stirred his insides and dispelled his doubts.

"Yes." He answered simply before he could stop himself with too much thinking. His chest hitched as her arm extended, stroking up his tail further, still using careful attention to the now more prominent peaks of cartilage. His jaw fell open slightly. The sensation of her hand almost too much to bear as another large shudder, stemming from her hand this time and rolling up his spine all the way to his scalp took him over.

She leaned forward further, her chest now dangerously close to touching his own. As her fingertips edged ever closer to the base of his tail he felt an unmistakable groan escape his lips. Her hand froze and he clamped his mouth shut with a snap both in the same moment.

His eyes darted away from hers, embarrassment welling up inside of him.

After an aching pause, his eyes still diverted, he felt Tav remove her hand and lean back away slightly. If the touch of her skin had lit a pleasant warm fire until under his skin, the sudden absence of it was a sharp painful sting of ice. Leaving him with a longing for contact that felt worse than if she hadn't touched him at all.

He finally pulled himself back to face her and was surprised to see her looking rather abashed. Her hands were sat back firmly on her thighs, gripping the fabric, a slight blush on her face, but... he could swear…was there a hint of a smile on her pink lips? Her confounding beautiful lips. 

Rolan opened his mouth to speak but once again words failed him. What could he say that wouldn't sound needy and desperate? How could he begin to ask her to continue to touch him without begging?

"Your tail felt very nice. Very soft. Sorry if I...went too far." Tav once again came to his rescue. This time rescuing him from the aching void of silence between them. Rolan blinked hard at her words. No one ever in the history of his knowledge had call his or anyone else’s tail nice or soft. As he absorbed her judgement of his tail, he realized she was staring at him expectantly.

"No, it was fine. It felt... good." A sudden surge of his own boldness possessed him, born of the sheer desire at having her hands on him again. To feel her touch him; somewhere. Anywhere. He started speaking before he knew what he was saying. "The...horns, if you were curious about them as well, also have a certain level of sensitivity... Not necessarily at the tips, but the base..." He couldn't even believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Desire had driven him absolutely mad.

Before he could begin to second guess himself he saw that the spark that flared up in her eyes was immediate. Her hint of a smile grew into a full fledged one.

Tav leaned forward slightly again and her eyes darted up to his horns.

"May I?" She asked, raising her hands up from her thighs until they hovered just over his own. He gave a gentle nod, not trusting his own voice at the prospect of being touched again.

Without hesitation now her hands raised to each place her fingertips at the point of each horn. Rolan dipped his head forward slightly to give her better access, practically bowing towards her. His own reverence at her caring touches.

She placed her fingers gently on the tips of his horns, again tracing across the thicker bumps and ridges, feeling her way around every groove as she explored. After just a moment there, she gently slid further down from the tips, lower and lower until they were thick enough to wrap a hand around. As she did so Rolan sucked a sharp gasp of air in through taut lips. Not so much at the sensation; it was altogether different than the soft flesh of his tail, but at her willingness to touch him again.

The feeling of hands on his horns was more akin to someone brushing his hair, not that he would know what that felt like; but it was more about the way it trickled down to his actual flesh that gave him shivers. But the feeling of her so close to him again, her desire to touch him again, her tender soft hands on the harshest parts of him; that was what truly drove his senses wild and made his insides coil with hunger. The feeling of her hands gently caressing his horns sent shooting sparks of sweet sensation across his scalp and he found himself clamping his mouth shut hard again to avoid making another wanton noise.

Heeding his words she seemed to move quicker down than with his tail, but as she reached the midpoint of his horns she slowed, her grip growing more delicate and exploratory again. As her hands slid across the grooves with care the sensation, the pulsing in his skin, grew stronger and stronger until his breath hitched and his breathing grew heavy once more. He stared down at her lap, trying in vain not to look directly at her chest.

His own hands, which had been absurdly useless thus far, clutched hard against the fabric of his robe at his thighs, as another shiver rolled down his spine. He felt it flow all the way down through his tail again. His eyes shot down at it. His tail. His damned tail that started this whole thing, still carefully curled around her leg, seemed to tighten involuntarily at the shudder. He wasn’t sure if he should be blessing or cursing that it seemed to have a mind of its own; operating purely on base instinct betraying his deepest thoughts and desires.

Her hands finally reached the base of his horns and tenderly traced the bumps from where they erupted from his skin, bringing forth another unintended deep groan of pleasure from the depths of his chest. At the noise his eyes darted back up to meet hers and he found her watching him intently, her lips parted slightly.

Thankfully, her hands didn't stray, undisturbed by his obvious, even lewd enjoyment of this. They stayed; soft, tender, and so caring on his flushed burning skin.

As her hands seemed to finish their careful explorations of the flesh at the base of his horns, he still had almost half-expected her to pull away. The game complete. The research done. A dark thought rolled through him before he could stop it that this was just a bit of fun for her. Teasing him like this.

But her hands lingered. He once again found her eyes, meeting them with a deep gaze as she slid her hands down, away from his horns until she was gently cupping his cheeks. Sparks shot through his entire body and his chest heaved, almost painfully so. The moment lingered, his fear and doubt still too deeply etched into his own skin in invisible scars to make a move first. A few weeks of comfort and a few moments of tender touching couldn’t erase a lifetime of hardships and disappointments.

Thankfully, Tav, was still the more bold of the two of them. Her eyes darted obviously down to his slightly parted lips then back up to meet his as she licked her lips.

“Rolan?” She breathed out softly.

He couldn’t trust that his voice wouldn’t shake. Couldn’t trust that any possible utterance of words would snap this beautiful fantasy in two and she would dissolve. Couldn’t trust that any noise he made would break whatever spell she was under and cause her to lean away. But she lingered, unwilling to move without word from him. He swallowed thickly again and replied.

“Yes?” He finally managed to eke out with a small gasp.

“Can I kiss you?”

All of the air seemed to leave the room. She spoke so freely. So honestly. A slight hush in her words but only the tiniest hint of a quiver in her voice.

It contrasted so starkly with the tremble that coursed through his body. Of course he wanted her to kiss him. What kind of a question was that? He wanted it more than he needed to breathe. But somehow, the words out there, the possibility at hand, filled him with a deeper fear than he knew existed. A fear that threatened to overtake even his desire for her. A lingering voice that scolded him; ‘you will never quite be good enough.’

She licked her lips again and Rolan finally found the courage to quell the voice once and for all. She gave him courage. She always had. She had been there for him when no one else was; not even himself. It had always been within him, the confidence, the desires; but she had been patient enough to slowly ease it out.

“Yes, please…” He croaked out.

She leaned forward, hands still on his cheeks and placed a tender lingering kiss on his lips. The sensation of her caressing his tail was nothing compared to this. To the soft, slightly moist feeling of her warm lips pressed against his.

It sent another surge of confidence and unleashed passion coursing through his body. He could already feel his tail tightening around her leg again. His hands, trembling with anticipation and desire before, useless on his lap, now reached forward, reaching for her, eager to pull her close.

The kiss deepened, spurred on by his reaction; Tav opened her mouth, welcoming him in and leaned in further. His hands found her waist, gripping it tight as her own tongue replied to his, dancing carefully over and around his pointed teeth.

Rolan couldn’t help but groan slightly as his body lit up with sparks, every sensation he had ever felt, good or bad, seemed to pale in comparison to this divine moment. Her mouth hot against his, their breath mingling. He found his stomach was flipping over, and there was a deep aching stir in the very core of his body. Tav leaned even closer, practically in his lap now even though her hips still firmly sat on the couch beneath them.

He struggled to keep up with her tongue at first. Hers was so careful and precise and he felt sloppy and careless, sweeping along her lips and occasionally fumbling out of them as he struggled to keep up and simultaneously rushed to catch up; kissing her like it was his first and last kiss. All messy and nervous and wet and eager.

Patient as ever, Tav slowed, giving them both a moment to find the right flow, adjusting her head to tip it to the side so they could lock lips fully. He breathed out a pleased sigh into her mouth as they found a pleasant connection, leaving their awkward tongues behind.

Confidence again surging, he tugged at her hips with a new found greedy need. Greedy. He once teased her with that very word, but now very much felt the acute actuality of the word itself. He was greedy for her. He needed more of her. Now that he had been given a taste, he felt practically insatiable.

Catching note of his eager tugs, without question or request now, Tav lifted up her legs and straddled his lap, letting his body adjust to sit back against the couch. The new position allowed a new level of closeness. Her body pressed fully against his now, his pulse pounding hard between them.

Rolan felt positively dizzy. Giddy even; and that was not a word he felt he had ever used or thought of using before. He wrapped his arms fully around her back now, taking advantage of the closeness to run his hands up and down her clothed spine. His tail had released her leg at her movement and now joined his hands at her waist, resting almost scandalously against the swell of her ass. Her own hands drifted down from his face, resting on his shoulders and gently playing with the edges of his hair that rested there.

He released another shuddering moan into the kiss, feeling her body sink deeper onto his, his body still lighting up in sensations he felt he never knew before. As his mind hurried to catch up to the evolving situation and new desires continued blooming within, one thing quickly became achingly clear. Much as his tail betrayed him before, he now felt a throbbing hardness hidden under the layer of his robes and pants. He had felt it pulse and twitch earlier at her careful caresses, but now with her intentions laid bare, the situation far from friendly, and her body pressed against his, there was no denying it as the blood rushed ever further down into his groin.

For a brief moment he felt as if he was almost searching for new things to fear to ignore the comfort and passion of their kisses. As perceptive as ever, Tav seemed to notice this new wave of nerves. That, or he realized, she couldn’t help but feel his erection pressed against her due to their proximity. She finally eased her mouth away from his, allowing them both to suck in a few much needed gulps of air.

Catching his eye and leaning her forehead close to his, he felt her adjust and give a long slow roll of her hips against his hardness.

Even through the many layers of fabric the sensation of pure pleasure that tore through him was undeniable. An unmistakably vulgar groan fell from his lips before he could quell it and he felt his eyelids flutter. Tav simply smiled, and repeated the motion, spreading her knees as wide as they could go to push her hips further against him.

Rolan trembled with delight; his mind once again racing to catch up to this new development. But as his mind looked for ways to worry about this, he found himself coming up blank. The unrelenting lust and passion of the situation finally staking claim on all of his senses. It felt so good. Too good to ignore or deny further.

Another roll of her hips had his heart racing at the unimaginable level of pleasure just the mere friction of her body pressing against his made him feel. She moved more purposefully now, without pause or hesitation, grinding her very core, her own heat, against him. Her goal it seemed, lay in far more carnal pleasures than just simply driving him mad.

He dipped a hand under the edge of her loose tunic as she continued to writhe against him, and he splayed his hand across her naked back. Savoring again the feeling of her flesh against his.

It was miraculous. It was indecent. It was passionate. It was lewd. But most importantly in his head, above all else – it just felt so fucking good.

“Tav…” He groaned, unable and now finally unafraid of holding back his vocal enjoyment at this point. “If you keep going...I...I’m going...to…” Each word came out punctuated by a heavy gasping breath. He was fully panting now, the sheer ecstasy at feeling her rut against him, at the friction rubbing against his hard cock, at the entire situation really – all already so close to pushing him over the edge.

Her response was immediate. She paused her rocking and pulled back a touch to look him square in the eye. There was not a trace of annoyance in her face; just pure care for him. For his comfort.

“Do you want me to stop?” She asked, a little breathless. His throat burned. The immediacy of her response to him. Her unfaltering care for his feelings. The genuine and absolute respect. It struck him hard in the chest and felt almost as painful as the sudden loss of her delicious movements.

His eyes met hers. Part of him realized how improper this all was. He should be lavishing her with flowers and gifts. He supposed. He didn’t have much experience with it, but came to understand that was the thing to do during proper courtships. But a deeper part of him didn’t care. The city was in crumbles around them. They had defeated an army of mind-flayers and he himself had been to hell and back. To the hells with what was proper. He had tied his life to being stifled and composed; there was a time and place for it and now was neither.

“No, please don’t stop.” He finally breathed out. She grinned and leaned back in for another sweeping kiss, immediately resuming the pulsing and rocking of her hips against his. His entire body filled to the brim with burning fire again and another loud moan fell from his lips and the return of the sensation that was bringing him to the brink.

Tav was moaning too, he realized, soft breathy sounds, her breath hot against his ears. Provoked by the idea that she was possibly getting even a tiniest bit of the same level of pleasure from this that he was, he sat up slightly. He wrapped his arms fully around her, drawing her closer and holding her tight.

All last thoughts of maintaining composure well and fully gone, he thrust his groin up in time with her own movements. It took him a moment to find the right rhythm, the practice of movements such as this not in his natural repertoire. But before long they synced up in unison and increased the pace.

“Yes. Tav. Please. Tav. Please. Yes.” Words spilled from his lips with each jerking movement as the sensation within him built to a feverish peak. As the tingling feeling crested within him, at the last moments, all words seem to fail. Only moans and salacious grunts remained.

His grip tightened around her waist, one clawed hand grasping at her shirt, the other leaving scratches on her bare back as his body begin to coil and tense. It was the moment just before a spell releases, that last uttered syllable as it traveled from throat to teeth to air, bringing forth all kinds of magic into existence. He met her eyes again and she was that moment.

Her face was flush from her exertions, her pupils blown wide, staring at him with pure desire, her absolute and incessant need to take care of him. Him.

A last roll of her hips and he was done. He cried out obscenely as his tension released and he came so hard that his head spun. His cock pulsed, pressed hard between them, spilling his seed in his pants beneath his robe. As waves of his orgasm crested and rolled through his shaking and sputtering body, he felt his whole body begin to release in a way he didn’t think was possible. He tossed his head back to lean on the back of the couch it seemed like every muscle in his body went limp at once. He indeed thought he might pass out with the way his heart pounded in his chest and he sucked in deep gasps of air; thinking he might never catch his breath.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind he thought of the mess he had made, in his own clothes no less, but it was quickly overtaken by the feeling of Tav leaning close, looking to close the gap he had created by sinking into the couch.

She placed a wet kiss against the throbbing pulse of his neck and nuzzled her face there while he rode out the high of his own selfish, greedy pleasure.

After a moment of deep breathing and bliss, his heart started to calm and points of panic and fear started to creep back into his mind one by one. He adjusted his head slightly to sit up, needing to face her. Feeling him move, Tav sat up further as well to meet his eyes, but made no move to climb down off his lap.

“Can I still take you to dinner?” He asked quickly as their eyes met, addressing the most pressing of his concerns; that this was just a little fling. He pulled his hand back out of her shirt, wanting this to feel as formal and romantic as possible now, given the situation. Tav smiled brightly and gave an eager nod, leaning in for a quick, and rather chaste, kiss.

“I would be a little offended if you didn’t.” She raised a brow at him. “How about tonight?” She suggested and he once again reveled in her boldness. A quality, he quite felt, that was rubbing off on him.

Rolan cleared his throat; it would be next to impossible to regain full composure after what they had done, but he still tried.

“Yes. Grand. Wonderful. Great. We shall...um… have dinner tonight then.” He said, sounding almost curt in his attempt to seem collected.

Tav was utterly unfazed by his tone and gave him another smile and a tender kiss on his lips before starting to try and disentangle herself from his hands and tail, intending on standing up.

Despite the embarrassing mess in his pants, despite the awkwardness of the situation, despite her trying to start to pull away; he found himself pulling her back. His whole body, not just his tail this time, speaking for him and refusing to let her go. He pulled her back in tightly and pressed his cheek to hers, letting his eyes shut with a soft sigh as her warm body enveloped his.

Tav paused a moment before giving in and wrapped her arms around his neck, relaxing herself back into his arms.

“Can we just…stay like this a moment more?” He whispered softly into her neck before he lost the courage to do so. He found himself struck with a deep fear at letting her go. It overtook any apprehension he felt about actually giving his feelings a voice. What if she didn’t come back? What if something happened to her? What it what if what it. But, most striking among his worry, was the ache he could already feel at lack of contact. Now that he had felt her touch he didn’t think he could survive without it.

“As long as you like.” Tav whispered back with a smile against his cheek.

#my writing #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #rolan x tav #rolan nation #rolan #bg3 smut #rolan fanfic

[chilschuck]

on my hands and knees begging for post-canon confession. reader asks chilchuck what he’s going to do now that laios is king and he’s like “reconcile w my family, work on the union… and hopefully start courting you now that we’re not coworkers?”

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ THIS MADE ME MELT INTO A PUDDLE ANON. WAHHHHHHH i wasn’t sure where i wanted to go with this lil drabble, but it ended up shorter than i would’ve liked it. i hope that’s okay!!! i felt like it was good to end it where i did, heheh…

— PLANS: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, sfw! fluffy. <3

꒰ wc: ꒱ 483 (short but sweet!!)

✦ once again, i’m so sorry this ended up so short!! but i wanted something really sweet with your concept, and this is where my brain took me. (;;;w;;;) feel free to send in another rq again!! <33

“What are your plans now?”

It was such a simple question, but it held so much weight in the space between you. The tavern you two were in filled with laughter and chatter, only to never drown out your voice as he heard it. Taking a sip of his drink, Chilchuck sighed softly. Even in all the noise, you managed to make it out.

He knew what you were asking, it was a simple question: Now that Laios was king, what was he going to do? The half-foot knew his answer before he could even think of verbalizing it.

“Well… See my family again, make up and reconcile. Work on the union…” Chilchuck looked down into his mug, before letting that content grin grow on his lips.

Before you could comment, he interrupted with one more addition. “…And hopefully, start courting you now that we’re no longer coworkers?”

You couldn’t help but let your jaw drop. Not only that, but you could feel your chest heat up from his words alone. Chilchuck let out a light laugh at your reaction.

“You— Want to court me?” The words came out so quietly, but your head was reeling. The man you had eyes for this entire time… ended up having feelings for you too?

“Well, yeah. I would like to.” Chilchuck scratched the back of his head, giving you that bashful smirk that always made you melt. Your own glee was evident on your features, the low tavern lighting illuminating your smile. Before you could help yourself, the words left you in a playful rush.

“So… Does this count as our first date?” Chilchuck set his mug down, your statement causing him to bite back a smile of his own.

“I think I’d like to take you somewhere nicer than this.” The way he said your name brought butterflies to your stomach, the excitement of this new relationship making your heart race. His hand found your own under the table, giving it a light squeeze.

It was quiet for a moment, but not in the heavy way it was earlier. Instead, the atmosphere of the tavern paired with the happiness of your newfound relationship made it welcome. Unable to stay quiet any longer though, you asked a question that was occupying your mind.

“How long? I mean, how long have you wanted to take me out?” Chilchuck rested his head in his palm, contemplating your question for a moment. With a hum, he came up with an answer. “Since… Well, let’s just say a while.” He huffed, cheeks warming at the idea of having to confess how long he’d been harboring those feelings for you.

You leaned closer to him, the drink you’d been sipping on making you feel a little braver. “I can assure you I’ve wanted to longer.” The half-foot looked down at his hand that was still holding yours.

“I doubt that.”

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <33

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿 #praying this is okay !!!! #my brain is fried from all i had to write for school today #university is kicking my butt but it’s ALMOST DONE!!! #at least with spring semester :’))) #chilchuck x reader #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine

TW: little bit of nsfw, BDSM mention, angst

You shouldn’t be googling ‘how to tell a guy no in a nice way’ at the nurse’s station, but something has to be done. You thought after you left Julian’s place that there would be a mutual understanding of “this isn’t going to work out, we’re too incompatible”, but he didn’t seem to get that memo. 

The gifts just keep coming:

A pretty black silk dress in your exact size by Prada. Two crescent thin golden bangles for each wrist from Tiffany & Co that come in a robin’s egg blue box wrapped in a white satin ribbon. Upon close examination, you make out that they are subtly engraved in slanting script, JM. Really? His initials? You almost chuck them out the window just for that. 

An expensive lunch from the fancy bistro that you can never afford, though you would have preferred a gourmet sandwich to an artisan salad. 

A bouquet of fifty fucking red roses for Christ’s sake. They take up so much room at the nurse’s station that they’re a nuisance. They’re addressed to you, not signed—but you know exactly who they’re from. Then you have to field all the annoying questions about who’s your secret admirer? You hear Karen grumble that it must be that Officer Romeo and didn’t know cops got paid that good. 

If only they knew. It would serve Julian right, if you just ratted him out to everyone. 

This has to stop. 

“Julian?” 

He looks up from his mountain of paperwork. “Hey, look who it is. Are you feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine. How are you?” Yeah, great, egg this on a little bit more instead of getting to the point. When will you learn? 

“I’m spectacular,” he says. “I was wondering if you were alright because you called off for the first time yesterday?” 

Yeah, so I didn’t have to face you after receiving the expensive ass jewelry…

Your smile feels forced enough to induce a migraine, but at least it gives you an idea for an excuse. “Yeah, I had a really bad migraine.”

“Oh, that’s not good. Do you get them frequently?”

“Yes.” It’s not exactly a lie, although these migraines you’re admitting to are actually just mild caffeine withdrawal headaches when you don’t have enough time to drink your coffee. 

“Have you talked to your primary care provider about it?” He asks, standing up to flash his penlight in your eyes and dilate your pupils. He grips your chin and turns your head to check lateral eye movement, but you stop him. 

“Julian, I’m fine. I didn’t have a stroke.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not fine,” he orders. “I can see there’s something wrong. You're pale and clammy.” He pulls out his big leather chair and guides you to sit in it. “Tell me what I can do to help.” 

You look up at him, at this kind eyed, two sided man, and can’t do it. You can’t tell him to stop sending you gifts or buying you food, because you don’t want to be an asshole and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. Your nerves die along with your resolve.

“There, see, you look like you’re feeling better already. I’ll go buy you some water.” 

“No, you don’t-“ he’s already gone halfway down the hall with those mile long legs. 

You decide to take all the expensive gifts and shove them in the bottom of your closet to avoid feeling guilty when looking at them. But that doesn’t change the fact that you still have to look at Dr. Mercer and endure his caring, golden retriever persona.

This is what happens when you lie to yourself. You swear off relationships, move to a different part of the country, and then decide to go on a date—idiot—and these are the consequences for it. You feel like you have absolutely betrayed that girl that packed up her whole life to come to LA for a fresh start, and you’re sure she’s not forgiving you this time. 

“No more,” you say to yourself, pushing the gift boxes to the back of the cobwebby closet. “No more dates, no more men. No more heartbreak. You stupid bitch. Yes, that includes Tom Ludlow. Shut up. I said. No. Tom. Ludlow.” 

You end up screaming into a pillow, then calling your sister. She doesn’t answer, which is typical—probably on the road or using again or even dead in a ditch for all you know.

“Hey, Aggie, it’s me, gimme a call.” You play the voicemail back and then decide to delete it and hang up. You’re not exactly on speaking terms, but that ebbs and flows from one year to the next, so you’re not sure what she’ll think or do when she sees your name on her phone screen. 

Your friend, Sheila, doesn’t answer either; she’s probably at work.

It sucks. You could really use some reassurance and comfort that you’re not alone or unwanted in this fucked up little world. Maybe that’s why you end up with your finger hovering over Tom Ludlow’s number while you sit on the floor of your bedroom. You stare at those digits for a long time, then tuck your phone away and cry. 

You only get a chance to dive a little bit into this self pity session before your phone rings from your pocket. It’s not Aggie, nor Sheila, but a number you’ve unintentionally memorized nonetheless. 

Now, you really have to fight with every piece of yourself not to answer Tom Ludlow. The lecture you just monologued becomes irrelevant next to the burning, awful fucking desire to hear him talk. You almost pick it up. Almost. 

Watching your phone ring and ring, his name emblazoned on the screen, without answering feels like cutting out your heart and crushing it under your heel.

It goes to voicemail, but he hangs up before leaving a message.

A part of you that you didn’t even know that you need dies.

Good. Good riddance. Your heart only gets you into huge fucking trouble anyway.

You wait for your inner strength to return over the days that go by afterwards. Tom continues to call. You keep declining to answer. For some reason, you feel worse and worse every time the phone ceases to ring.

Where is you fucking girl power now? 

All you really feel, is empty, and that is the vulnerable state Julian finds you in one late night at the nurses station.

“Y/n,” he greets you, leaning on the counter, looking down at you with a glimmer of something dangerous in his dark eyes. It’s a look he almost never lets out of the box while at the hospital, and suddenly your heart is in your throat.

“Doctor.”

For some reason this causes him to smile down at you, a slight curl of lips that unleashes a handful of fluttering butterflies in your belly. 

“I’ve been thinking about you.”

You recall the massive bouquet of pure white lilies he had sent to your door yesterday, and believe him. 

“Julian…”

He comes around the counter, smooth as a dark lake, reminding you of when he jumped over the couch and chased you like he was a wolf rather than a golden retriever. Your pussy gives a timid little throb at this, almost as if she’s asking for permission to come out after days of being punished, locked away in her gilded cage while you dealt with other, more pressing emotions, like the one that stabs you repeatedly in the chest while you let Tom Ludlow’s number go to voicemail. 

“I can’t stop-“ he clears his throat, chin up as if he’s trying not to be nervous, and brushes some wispy, rogue hair off your neck. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” You can tell by the black matte of his eyes he means more than just platonically. 

Every hair on your body stands at attention for that hungry, eat you alive look on the handsome Doctor’s face. Part of you, and it’s a bigger part than you’d like to admit, wants to have a gag stuffed down your throat and a tight slip knot holding it in place so that he can do whatever he wants without you ruining things with your fat mouth again. 

“We’re just. We’re really not—Fuck.” You slap your forehead into your hands, and he takes it out, ever so gently with a big, shiver-inducing palm at the back of your neck, gripped softly in your hair, not exactly pulling, but lifting your face up to look at him nonetheless. 

“Please, just hear me out.” It doesn’t sound like he’s used that first word very often—maybe not ever, or at least not for a very long time. Dr. Mercer’s picture is in the dictionary under the word ‘Polite’, but he practically runs this hospital, and with that responsibility comes a certain authoritative entitlement. 

“Julian, we’re at work.” You don’t know how he manages to get you on the desk without alerting anyone around. The way he can just lift you easy and gentle has a familiar desire bubbling hot in your hips, and you can’t decide if you’re glad that you chose to chart in a more secluded area of the floor tonight or not.

“I can’t help it.” It sounds like he’s honest about that, voice splintering and needy as he presses his hard torso between your soft thighs. “I know that I fucked up, but if I don’t get a second chance to at least try and rectify this…” He’s not usually a man that doesn’t know what he wants to say. 

This whole swearing off men thing? How is it supposed to fucking work if the men look and act like Julian? How are you supposed to do the whole proverbial keep it in your pants bit when a sexy, tall, beautiful doctor wants—desperately—to string you up to his bed and do horrible things to your body?

You can’t believe these words are coming out of your traitor's mouth as you bend under his will: “what kind of a second chance?”

He kisses you in response, long and slow, tongue slipping teasingly against the sensitive inner sanctum of your mouth. It leaves your toes curling, your chest rising quick and rapid, your white knuckles clutching the polished counter. He’s not exactly nice about it, pressing you back into the lip of the granite, holding the entire side of your face in his hard grip, turning your mouth red and swollen. 

You’re going to have to bleach wipe this desk after all of this is done, because the insistent need of his mouth is making your comfy cotton underwear damp and warm like a humid summer night back at home. 

“Let me take you to the club. Let me show you…let me help you understand.” 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Isn’t that the fucking understatement of the century? It sounds like a terrible idea. But, you were the one that wanted to understand him better. “When?” 

The thrill seeker, she’ll never die. She needs blood, she’s thirsty, she doesn’t want a boring life of reading and watching the news. She wants to go to a BDSM club in Venice with a fine ass doctor and probably ruin your—her life in the process.

“When are you off next?” The grin on Julian’s face is all Mr. Hyde. 

#Julian Mercer x Reader #tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow #street kings #keanuverse fic #keanuverse #something’s gotta give #Sorry spooky more Julian 🙂‍↕️

[fomulapookie]

soo i’m writing a marcmarc fanfiction and Im going to make it multi chapter, it’s going to explore a bit Bez’s internalised homophobia and his path towards the light (fucking with Marc)

and i’m going to upload it both here and on Ao3, if you like it i’d love for you to leave kudos, no pressure tho obv <3

I took a bit of inspiration by @anitalianfrie and some ideas from @yeastinfectionvale because the two of you are the most dangerous marcmarc psychosexual supporters I relate with

Below you can find the fic, if u enjoy reading on Tumblr more than on Ao3❤️

2024 pre-season

It was cold, but still, Marco was sitting outside the ranch, it was around 3 in the morning he supposed, thoughts clouded by the joint he was still finishing up.

He was trying to reflect on something that had been seriously affecting his life lately, or rather much someone.

Marc Marquez.

Since he had signed with Gresini the Spaniard just seemed to continuously pop up into his life, whether it was on track or not, like last week for example, he was out with a group of his friends and who did he meet at the club he went to? Marc Marquez, drinking with a guy he thought was a friend of the man, but the more he thought about it, the more he remembered strange details, like a hand lingering a bit too much or a few glances casted in a very lustful way.

He archived the memory as a made up one, a result of the not so little amount of alcohol he consumed that night.

Plus, Marc had a girlfriend, and even if he didn't, everyone on the grid was straight.

All the jokes, flirty ones even, were always platonic and between friends, he did that too with Pecco, and it wasn’t like he was…gay.

He had had a girlfriend until a few weeks prior, when she decided it would’ve been a good idea to cheat on him and dump him via text of all things.

The joint was coming to an end, and with it all his will to stay outside and freeze, looking for a warm blanket and a snack instead.

Memories grew along with his hunger, and the frames of his mind ran back to the night he saw Marquez at the club.

Shirt buttoned just halfway, a silver necklace adorning his neck and bouncing slightly every time he moved.

His smile, a painfully magnetic one, drawing people to him like moths to a flame, like his eyes, profound and deep.

But what Bez remembered the best were his shoulders.

Broad, muscled, tanned and glowing with sweat, moving up and down rhythmically when he laughed.

If he focused enough, he could remember peeking the outline of one of Marc’s scars from the hem of his shirt, and something similar to a hickey on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, sinfully on display.

Fuck, why did he remember those things? He was pretty sure that a blonde flirted with him that night, he was sure she was hot even, but he couldn’t remember a single detail from her, just from that small fucking bastard

As his mind stopped wandering Bez realized he was back into his room, an half finished protein bar in hand and an obviously painful bulge in his pants.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck how did that happen? was it the blonde? it couldn’t have been Marquez, could it?

The answer came when his dick twitched at the mention of Marc’s name.

cazzo

He was conflicted: should he let it go away on its own or act on it? because he knew the moment he would’ve touched himself thinking of his rival it would’ve been over for him.

Seeing him in the paddock, on insta or at one of the clubs would’ve meant remembering this.

No no no he hated Marquez, this was just the smoke speaking for him, he always got a bit horny after smoking, it wasn’t different from other times.

Except it was. It was so much different, this longing he felt for the older guy, the need he had to just lick his lips and bite down on those delicious looking shoulders, grabbing his neck and crushing their lips together.

Bez also remembered the cologne he was wearing; it smelled like woods and fresh, he didn’t know much about perfumes but that was surely a smell he wasn’t going to forget it easily.

“Maybe it’s not that bad. Just once, one time and then I’ll forget about him”

he thought while sliding into bed and slowly slipping his hand into his pants.

It was embarrassing how quickly he became vocal about it, softly of course because he didn’t want the other guys or worst, Vale, to hear him moan out Marc Marquez’s name and finding him like that.

He stroked his cock with growing speed, twisting his wrist when he came close to the tip, gritting his teeth and grabbing the sheets with his free hand.

“Marc-“ a suffocated plea leaving the boy's mouth, but remaining painfully present in his room, floating around as a curse.

The more he thought about the Spaniard the harder he got, he wanted more more more.

He wanted Marc, in all his stupid perfection, he wanted him to choke on his cock, or bouncing on it, he wanted Marc to be as desperate for him as Bez was for the man.

“Si si si” a trail of words left the boy’s mouth to get lost into the silent and cold night in Tavullia, alongside with Marco’s orgasm, which hit him hard and fast, ropes of white liquid staining his abdomen and part of the sheets.

He went to the bathroom to wash his hands and getting cleaned up, being extra careful not to wake anyone up.

He looked at himself in the mirror, cheeks red, puffy lips and glassy eyes, pupils still blown wide from the smoke and the excitement of the recent jerk off session.

He knows he will have to face what he just did, because what if it wasn’t just Marc? What if it was men in general? Could have he been bisexual? To be fair he was a bit scared to know, what if Vale or one of the guys found it disgusting? what if his family did?

Could’ve he kept that secret for long?

He doesn’t think so, honestly he’s scared of loosing both families at once for something like that.

No no, he ultimately decided.

If he understands he likes guys he’s going to keep it for himself.

It’s going to be better for everyone that way

#bezz #marcmarc #rosquez #marc marquez #motogp rpf #hope u like it

[thecuriousquest]

A3!with yandere rengoku (before his death) (nsfw please) and with a very busy s/o?

Tasty!

Yan!Kyojuro Rengoku x Fem!Reader

Request: “You look delicious. I won’t stop until I’ve eaten every bite.”

Warnings: NSFW, light yandere themes, oral sex (female receiving), Rengoku is a pleasure dom, 18+ characters

Note: I’m not sure what a busy s/o is…lol. I’m gonna try my best, though. Thanks for the Ask!

Alphabet Prompt List

Master List

—————————————————————————

He treats you like a queen. Kyojuro makes you feel so special in all types of ways. The way he looks at you beneath those bushy eyebrows, it makes you feel like the only girl in the world, in his world as well.

He only has eyes for you, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

Sometimes, he can get a little…aggressive, however. He just gets a feeling like you might be looking at other men, and he needs to remind you that he’s the only one who is able to provide you with everything you need.

The way his tongue hangs out as he carefully takes off his belt. The way he none too gently strips of his shirt and has you sprawled out on the bed on your back, in your rightful place. He does all the work so that you don’t have to do anything. He just wants to make you feel good. With his arms hooked under the pits of your knees, he pulls you in close and spreads your legs apart.

Unable to help gasping or the fluttering of your heart, you lift your head to see what the Hashira is going to do next, although you have a fairly good idea.

Your kimono rides up because of all of this manhandling, and he has a perfect view of your silky underwear. With deft fingers, he slides the garment down your legs, dropping them on the floor beside him once he pulls them past your feet.

Usually always in a goofy mood, he is anything but that right now. He is enthusiastic, but not upbeat as usual. He is primitive, seductive, and rippling with vibrations of pleasure as he sticks two fingers knuckle deep inside of your aching pussy. He takes his time, exploring the territory for the hundredth, if not thousandth, time. Rough padding from a life of hard work skillfully traversing the landscape of your womanhood.

And the way he looks at you with such soft and loving eyes, a dominant look which captivates your very being.

You shudder when he removes his fingers and licks the creamy substance off of his skin, taking his time to suck them clean.

“Mmmmm…tasty.”

He looks at you with a satisfied smile before he leans down and delves his tongue into the folds of your slit. No matter how many times the Flame Pillar eats you out like a man dying of hunger, you still have yet to get used to it.

The way he swirls his tongue around your clit and works his fingers in and out of you at such a cruel yet pleasurable pace. It has you writhing and bucking your hips up into his mouth. He has to pin your thighs down to the mattress with two strong hands just to keep you still so he can satiate your neediness.

“Kyojuro! Oh, fuck, please!” You grip the sheets tightly as you squeeze your eyes shut. Legs quaking from you trying to resist his large hands which hold you down.

You come suddenly all over his mouth and chin, unable to hold it back, unable to hold anything back as you cry with the waves of energy washing over your entire body.

And then he’s trailing kisses up the insides of your thighs, up your stomach, up your chest, up and up all the way to your throat and jawline. He kisses your lips passionately as he weighs you down with his body, keeping you firmly in place.

“You look delicious. I won’t stop until I’ve eaten every last bite.”

—————————————————————————

P.S: This is exactly what I was referencing.

#yandere #triggering content #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #triggering themes #yandere x darling #yandere themes #yandere demon slayer #demon slayer #yandere kyojuro rengoku #yandere rengoku #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #yandere kny #kny rengoku #kny kyojuro #demon slayer kyojuro

[arolesbianism]

Beginners guide to my Jackie and Olivia universe thoughts except the handwriting might be kinda unreadable so idk figure it out

#keese draws #oxygen not included #olivia broussard #jackie stern #also to be clear everything I have for the rabbit and raccoon universes is completely pulled out of my ass lol #I just wanted to play around with the idea of every universe in oni having the same results despite wild differences #in canon they’re both probably near identical outside of what critters olivia works with #but I find it fun imagining those moments in the logs as the moments that come closest to converging #three olivias who are all wildly different but despite it all still end up in a lab feeding their favorite critters in near perfect sync #three separate jackies with varying amounts of respect for olivia each deciding to rid of olivia’s critters #three separate pairs each holding near identical conversations through text that even then could have varried wildly in tone if heard #two women who have a strained relationship two women who don’t realize how bad things are between them and two women who are on the offense #anyways rabbit universe is my favorite of the other two to think abt because god it’s so fun imagining jackie slowly realize that olivia #may have slowly but surely become like super dangerous to both herself and others and that it was initially to support her but now it’s #gotten Way out of hand and jackie doesn’t know how to try to bring it up because she has things that she deems more important to do #and anytime she does try to push her away from the work she’s been doing to focus on other things she at best does it in secret #the problem with people who consider themselves righteous is that they can become incredibly dangerous if they aren’t #now jackie sort of considers herself righteous but I don’t think that’s her primary motivation in scientific advancement #she is far more motivated by the thrill of progress and as such operates less on is what I’m doing right and more how do I most effectively #get this done and as such she’s incredibly strict and shitty to people and is more than willing to cut corners that she rly shouldn’t #the thrill of progress also appeals to olivia deeply but she generally sees herself as a moral person #which even in canon leads to olivia coming off as kind of hypocritical as anything that doesn’t make her actively uncomfortable doesn’t rly #seem to register to her as a problem #her morals are kind of dictated by her personal comforts and as such an olivia who is comfortable with doing questionable experiments is an #olivia who doesn’t see them as questionable at all #now I do imagine rabbit universe olivia is generally nicer to employees than jackie is #but mostly in the sense that she gives them proper breaks and lets them do fun activities and such #she is still mostly invested in optimization she just knows that rested employees are productive employees unlike jackie #like if someone has a breakdown over the work they’re forced to do she’ll send them home early but she will expect them to get back to it #so she’s not actually like. that good to the ppl working under her. she’s just not as bad as jackie

[grumpypixistix]

The lab assistant

Scientist!Miguel O’Hara x Shy!Reader

Warnings- Face sitting, slight corruption kink, slightly perverted!Miguel (if you squint), co-workers being dickheads, semi-public sex (let me know if I missed anything! )

MINORS DNI 18+

You had been working at Alchemax for a few months now. A few of your colleagues were generous enough to introduce you to the workplace and the other workers, but there was one person you couldn’t keep your eyes off of.

Miguel O’Hara.

When you first introduced yourself to him, he had already taken a liking to you. Something about how shy yet sweet you were made his pulse quicken and his cheeks burn. The way you smiled at him as you tried to introduce yourself, nervous about your first day at Alchemax. But you quickly felt at home when Miguel began to bond with you by taking over your “tour” of the place, making great conversation. Soon enough, your shell had cracked and you started talking about your personal interests, how you got hired, etc.

About a week after that day, he went home and couldn’t stop thinking about you for some reason. He didn’t know what to make of it, thinking it wasn’t too serious.

But then you started appearing in his dreams.

Miguel would dream about leaving marks everywhere on your body to claim you as his, fucking every ounce of innocence out of you.

And when he would wake up in a cold sweat, his cock was nearly on the verge of exploding, precum dripping everywhere. He felt guilty about it afterwards, it was just wrong for him to think about his colleague like that.

But you plagued his mind consistently. The dreams slowly turned into daily thoughts that he finally caved into, fisting his cock at least four times a day to the thought of your body. But you had no clue what he was doing after he got off of work. You just assumed that he only saw you as a co-worker and nothing else, maybe even a good friend.

But God, were you so far off from the truth.

As you entered the building for another shift of the week, your boss had approached you with some new information.

“I’m really sorry this is a last minute notice, but I need you to stay a little later. I tried to get some other people to stay instead, but all of them couldn’t do it… but on the bright side, Miguel volunteered to stay, so you won’t be completely alone.”

Great, just what you needed. A longer shift after your horrible week.

Even though some of your colleagues were nice to you, there was a group that wasn’t as generous as them. Some of them claimed that you were too clumsy or stupid to be an assistant, others claimed you were like a lost dog or a prude. Whatever they said, you tried not to pay attention to it too much. But there were days where it would get to you, and this week happened to have a bunch of those days.

You just nodded at your boss and shot him the best smile you could muster up.

“Alright then, that shouldn’t be a problem, sir” You said in a friendly tone.

“At least Miguel will be here with me… maybe I can talk to him, get my stress out” You thought to yourself as you walked off to start your shift.

When you walked into the lab and took your coat off of the hanger, you could hear some voices from the other side of the room.

“Oh great, look who’s here.”

“God, I don’t even know why she’s still here. She should’ve been fired months ago, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing.”

“I’m surprised Miguel even hangs out with her, she’s such a prude.”

“Hell, you should’ve seen the look on her face yesterday. She practically bursted into tears when we called her useless.”

The other comments stung a little, but what got you the most was the part about Miguel. Sure, you had developed a small crush on him, but that had nothing to do with your guy’s friendship. The fact that the other colleagues had judged your bond just to get a laugh hurt you more than you felt it should’ve.

God forbid if they ever found out about your feelings for Miguel… you couldn’t help but become paranoid over the idea.

As you tried to ignore the group across the room and focus on your tasks, it seemed that one of them had read your mind and called you over.

Shit.

“Hey, newbie! Come over here real quick, we gotta ask you somethin“ One of your colleagues called out.

Your heart pounded hard inside your chest, quietly gulping before walking over to the group with a small sigh.

“What do you need?” You asked gently, silently praying it was something work-related and not just making fun of you again.

Some of the others chuckled and chattered a little bit before falling quiet.

“Sooo, you’re friends with Miguel, right?” The female colleague from before asked.

Your palms began to grow sweaty as sirens went off in your mind, biting your cheek before answering.

“Yeah, why?” You raised your brow at your co-worker.

Your co-worker slowly smiled. Oh no.

“Well, we were just thinking… with the way you act around him and all… you definitely have a thing for him, don’t you?”

Your whole chest sunk to your stomach, wishing this was just some horrible dream and that you would wake up soon. Trying to play it off, your eyes widened at the question and you shook your head vigorously.

“What?? No, he’s just my friend-“

“That wasn’t my question. I asked if you have a thing for him” She cuts off coldly.

Some of the others snickered quietly, making your throat close up as you tried to hold your emotions back. Your face contorted into confusion at the strange question, the others taking notice of it.

“Oh my god, she’s clueless” One of the colleagues muttered with a small chuckle.

Your co-worker lets out a small laugh as she noticed your face, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.

“Here, let me dumb it down for you: do you ever fantasize about having sex with Miguel?”

Your whole face flushed bright red as it clicked into your head, slowly shaking your head.

“N- No… that’s… that’s wrong” You stuttered, looking at your co-worker.

She stares at you with a raised brow, not believing you at all.

“Okay, sure… but you still like him, right? Being a prude and all, surely you at least have a crush on him.”

“Please, don’t call me that-“

“Or what? Huh? You gonna run off to your little boyfriend and cry in his arms? I’m sure he’ll baby you, he does every time he sees you” She hisses.

The feeling in your throat grew even stronger, your eyes slowly beginning to water. But you didn’t want to prove her theory, so you just stood there silently, not knowing what else to say. As the silence grew more, some of the colleagues just laughed.

“Wow… you really are stupid, aren’t you?”

“Who’s stupid?” A voice emerges from the entrance of the room, making everyone fall silent.

It was Miguel, standing with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed. The group of colleagues weren’t laughing or smiling anymore- instead, they actually looked nervous. The female coworker looked over at you for a quick moment before flashing a smile at Miguel.

“Oh, nothing! It was just something we were talking about from yesterday. Right, hon?” The co-worker said in an overly sweet tone, forcing herself to smile at you.

You froze, not wanting anymore conflict with the group, so you just went along with it. You quietly nodded your head and looked over at Miguel, giving your best smile.

“Mhm, it was just stuff from yesterday” You mustered up as your voice shook a little.

Miguel didn’t buy it at all, seeing how your eyes glistened, tears threatening to leave them at any second. He shot your co-worker a glare before looking back at you, a sigh leaving his lips.

“Ah, alright then… do you have the paperwork from last week? I just wanna make sure everything is right” Miguel spoke to you, his face softening a little.

You quickly nodded and walked away from the group to your clipboard that was in one of the desk drawers, skimming through the pile of papers to look for the documents. The group just watched as you eventually found the papers Miguel was referring to, handing them to him. He took out his glasses from his coat pocket and put them on, reading the sheet of paper. After a few moments of silence, Miguel took off his glasses and looked over at you, handing the paper back.

“This is perfect. Thank you, sweetheart. I don’t think I’ve ever seen paperwork better than this and I’ve worked here longer than anyone else has” Miguel praised, a gentle smile formed on his lips.

“Thank you, Miguel. That means a lot to me” You hummed in appreciation, returning the smile.

The praise alone made you forget about the whole situation from earlier, but the smile comforted you even more. Your cheeks burned up as you felt your whole body tingle, a small smile creeping up your lips. The feeling Miguel made you have was insatiable, you just couldn’t get enough of it. You wanted more of him, to have his lips on yours…

You almost forgot that there were other people in the room. Almost.

The sound of low muttering made your head turn towards the group, the co-worker giving you a dirty look before the group parted separate ways. You set the paper on the table and Miguel leans down to whisper in your ear.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

Your head spun when you felt his warm breath tickle your skin, almost not realizing what he just said. When you finally processed it, you looked at Miguel and nodded a little. For once, you were actually kind of glad your boss made you work later.



After hours of working and following Miguel around for assistance (as he asked for your presence), it was time for the others to go home. Usually, you would be getting off at this time, but since you had to stay later, that meant you would have to pick up dinner on your way back home. You didn’t really mind since it would save you time and energy to make food at home.

Plus you didn’t mind since it meant you could spend more time with Miguel.

Speaking of which, you couldn’t help but notice something was a little off with him. You assumed it was because of what happened earlier, because he seemed a little more tense than normal. But after everyone had left, he looked over at you, glad that the two of you were finally alone. You were finishing out today’s paperwork, slouching over the desk as you tried to fight off your tiredness. Miguel walked over to you and gently took the pen out of your hand, turning your chair around to face him.

“Everyone left, it’s just us. Now… about what happened earlier…” Miguel started, bending down to your height, “Tell me. What exactly did they say to you?”

Your face burned up a little as his face was inches away from yours, struggling to find your words. He just stared at you, waiting for an answer. But after a few moments of silence, his face softened and he let out a small breath, resting his large hand on your thigh.

“I won’t say a word to anyone, I promise. I just want to know what’s wrong… when I got here, you were on the verge of tears” Miguel spoke softly.

The feeling of his hand on your thigh made your chest flutter and your stomach turn, trying to keep your composure as much as you could. He was only just trying to comfort you… right?

“They… they were asking me questions…” You began, still debating whether or not you should leave out a few details.

Miguel hummed a little as he listened to you, his other hand now on your other thigh as he gently caressed your skin. Your stomach felt fuzzy and warm, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Questions about what? C’mon hermosa, you can tell me” He coos, tucking a small strand of hair out of your face.

You swallowed hard and bit your lip hard before answering hesitantly.

“They were… questions a- about you.”

Miguel stopped and looked at you, gently grabbing your chin and forcing you to look up at him.

“What did they ask about me?”

You stared up at him for a few moments and finally spoke again.

“They… they were asking if… I liked you” You whispered quietly.

That caught Miguel off-guard.

His eyes widened at you just the slightest, analyzing your face to see if you were messing with him. Once he noticed your flushed cheeks and nervous look, he knew you weren’t joking. After a moment of tense silence, Miguel licked his lips and started talking.

“…Do you?” Miguel asked lowly, looking down at your lips and up at your eyes.

His question had you in a slight panic, weighing out the odds. If you told him how you felt, it would either change your entire friendship or you would be stuck working alone for the rest of your time at Alchemax. Either one of those options sounded horrible, but if you didn’t tell him now, you were certain the group from earlier would do it eventually. Your heart raced so quick, Miguel swore he could hear it clearly. A shaky sigh left your lips and you nodded at him.

“Yeah… I do” You mumbled, scared that he would react negatively.

But instead, Miguel just chuckled softly and smiled at you, his hand cupping your face and his thumb dragging down your bottom lip.

“That’s good to know… because I’ve also liked you for quite some time now” Miguel responded, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

Your eyes widened at his response, a look of hope on your face as you slowly smiled.

“Really?” You squeaked.

Miguel chuckled again and nodded at you, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

“Of course I do… how could I not?” He whispered, his face slowly inching closer to yours.

Your face flushed all the way to your ears, finding yourself drifting towards him. Closer, closer and closer until you finally feel his warm lips on yours. It felt like hundreds of fireworks were exploding in your chest, slowly wrapping your arms around him and holding Miguel close. You were almost afraid to let go, and he seemed to notice this. Miguel gently moved his hands down to your waist, pulling you up out of the chair and into his arms. The more you kissed him, the harder it became for Miguel to keep his composure. He wanted to take things slow with you, not wanting to scare you away. But God, was it a challenge for him to just keep his hands on your hips.

After a little bit, Miguel finally broke the kiss to catch his breath, already panting softly. He looked at you and let out a groan that awoken something inside you.

“Shit, do you have any idea what you do to me?” Miguel huffed quietly, his thumbs barely peeking up the hem of your shirt and rubbing the bare skin of your stomach.

You just stared up at him, your mind still foggy from the kiss you two had shared moments ago. You shook your head with a quiet “No…”

Miguel sighed and looked down at your chest, his cock twitching inside his pants. He didn’t even bother hiding his erection anymore, moving your hips against his to show you the effect you had on him. You let out a gasp at the strange feeling, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your whole body felt hot now.

“I can’t help it… you’re just so fucking sweet… you haunt me in my dreams, I swear to god. Every night when I go to bed, all I can dream about is you and that fucking body of yours… all just for me.”

Your eyes widened at his words, not expecting him to say those kind of things to you. Normally, you’d be freaked out or even scared… but something about the way Miguel looked at you made you feel different. You weren’t sure if it was from the kiss earlier or your feelings for him in general, but you felt… ready in a sense. When Miguel saw your eyes widen at his words, his face dropped as he suddenly became worried.

“…Was that too much?” Miguel whispered gently, his brows furrowed together.

You slowly shook your head and placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“No… I- If anything, I… I sometimes have dreams about you, too…” You admitted with a quiet tone, looking away.

Miguel nearly went off the rails when you told him that, his pants feeling tighter around his dick. He moved you closer to him once more, moving your hair to the side.

“Mierda… Tell me about your dreams…” Miguel mumbled against you, pressing slow kisses to your cheek and down your neck.

Your thighs pressed together as a wet patch formed in your panties, your stomach flipping as you felt his lips against your skin. A shaky breath left your mouth, nearly moaning from how good it felt to have Miguel treat you this way. It was definitely wrong, but it felt so right. If anyone else had stayed with you two during the late shift and caught you like this, you’d be fired on the spot.

But nobody else was here. Just the two of you.

“S- sometimes I dream about you k- kissing me like this… and even…” Your voice faltered as you quickly grew shy again, biting down on your lip.

Miguel kissed and nipped at your neck, leaving little marks on your skin.

“Go on, Cariño…”

You swallowed before speaking again, letting a soft moan slip out.

“Even… touching me…”

Miguel moaned at that, causing your head to spin even more. You felt so hot that you swore you were going to pass out, but luckily you didn’t. He moved up to place a firm kiss on your lips, pulling away to look at you.

“Have I done anything more than just touching you in your dreams?” Miguel muttered lowly, his lips wet and raw.

You thought for a second before slowly shaking your head with a small breath.

“I always woke up before… before I could find out…” You answered Miguel.

Miguel frowned at that, looking at the marks on your neck before making direct eye contact with you. He sighed and shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“Well… do you wanna know what I’d do to you in my dreams?”

You nodded at him, genuinely curious as to what he dreamed about when you weren’t there with him. His forehead pressed against yours as his lips were centimeters away from your lips, his hands trailing from your waist down to your ass.

“In my dreams… I’d have you sit on my face and I’d make you cum over and over again until your legs give out..”

The image Miguel just gave you nearly made you collapse. You felt weak to your knees, a gentle whine escaping your lips. Miguel squeezed your thighs and kissed you once more, his hands moving up to the hem of your shirt. He parted from you to look at your face.

“Can I?” Miguel asked, wanting to make sure you were okay with this before he went any farther.

You looked at him for a few moments before making a decision, whispering out a small “Yes” to him. He took that as his green light and gently took your coat off first before moving to your shirt. He rolled the material up your body and over your head, helping you take your shirt off. Once you were topless in front of him, Miguel’s eyes scanned your chest. He muttered something quietly in Spanish before letting out a breathy sigh.

“Have I ever told you just how beautiful you are?” He coos softly.

Your face burned up as you felt vulnerable in front of him, but when Miguel spoke, you slowly started to become more comfortable. A bashful expression appeared on your face as you just shook your head.

“Not entirely…”

Miguel hummed gently as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, reaching towards your back to unclip your bra.

“Well… I think you’re the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met… every time I see you, it’s always hard for me to look away. Shit, baby, it’s even hard for me to look away in my dreams. I wouldn’t give it up for any other view… you’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart” Miguel spoke in between kisses to your face and lips while gently kneading your exposed breasts.

You couldn’t help but moan at his words mixed with his touch, kissing him back each time he placed a kiss onto your soft lips. Miguel couldn’t get enough of the sweet sounds you made, craving even more from you. His hands moved down to unbutton your pants, taking off every last piece of clothing on your body before leaving you completely naked in front of him. Miguel’s breath hitched as he looked at your body.

It was even better than he imagined in his dreams.

Miguel placed small kisses down your neck and collarbone until he made it to your breasts, gently kissing and sucking one while his hand toyed with the other. The sensation made you moan a little louder, biting down on your lip to contain yourself. Miguel seemed to take notice of this and removed his mouth from your nipple.

“You don’t have to be quiet, muñeca… it’s just us. I wanna hear your pretty moans.. god, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long…”

As soon as he said that, his hands gripped your hips and he stared at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. Suddenly, he placed you on top of him as he laid down on the large table in the room. You could feel the tent in his pants right against your wet pussy, a low whine leaving your lips which caused Miguel to groan softly.

“Want you to sit on my face, querida… please…” Miguel begged softly, his hands still on your hips.

You let out a whimper at his request, reluctantly moving so your hips were directly above his face. You were hovering over him, not knowing what else to do. Miguel let out a quiet sigh, not wanting to wait any longer. He wanted to taste you… he had to taste you.

“You’re hovering, sweetheart. Lower your hips for me, ‘kay?” Miguel instructed, looking up at you from between your legs.

You looked down at him, slightly embarrassed from the position you were in. Regardless of how shy you became, you obeyed Miguel anyways, slowly lowering your hips a little.

“Is this g-“ Before you could even get your question out, Miguel’s mouth immediately attached to your clit.

You let out a loud gasp and moaned, Miguel’s tongue exploring your folds and licking up your juices. He let out a low growl that sent vibrations through your body, making you squirm and cry out.

“Joder, nena, sabes tan dulce… todo para mi~” Miguel moaned, his head moving up more to lick and suck on your clit again.

You whimpered as he sucked on your clit again, afraid that you would crush him if you moved your hips any lower. Miguel’s hands moved up to your ass and groped it tightly, his tongue poking your hole and sliding inside of you. The warm and wet feeling made your hands slam down on the table, trying not to drop your hips directly onto his face. Small pants left your mouth as his tongue fucked your hole and his nose brushed up against your sensitive clit, moaning as you kept your eyes shut tightly.

That’s when you felt Miguel’s hands grip your hips and his tongue slips out of your pussy, making you whine in response. You gasp as he pulls your hips down with such force, your eyes widening as you look down at him.

“Ay, Cariño, what did I tell you ‘bout the hovering? Stop hovering and sit on my face” Miguel scolded, spanking your ass as he goes back to licking and sucking your poor abused clit.

You cried out as you felt a new wave of pleasure form inside you, sobbing as he hit all of your spots with his mouth.

“Miguel~! Mig-“ You gasped, pulling his hair with one hand as the other stayed on the table for support.

But Miguel could care less if you suffocated him. Hell, he wanted you to. The sound of his name coming from your lips nearly made him cum in his pants right then and there. Every pretty noise that came out of your mouth was better than his dreams alone, not wanting you to stop. Miguel kissed and teased your clit more, savoring your taste as much as possible. His breath grew heavier and heavier as sweat trickled down his temples, burying his face in your pussy.

Miguel’s mouth left your clit with a small ‘pop’ as he re-entered his tongue inside your soaked hole, making you rut your hips against his face. The way his nose bumped your clit and his warm tongue stuffed inside you made your eyes roll back, your legs twitching already.

“God, don’t stop~ please don’t stop, Miggy~ feels s’good~” You begged pathetically, your shy demeanor now leaving your body.

Miguel moaned against you and spanked your ass hard once more, his fingers digging into your thighs. His own hips twitched against nothing as he listened to your pleads and moans, fucking you with his tongue relentlessly. With the way you begged so nicely for him to keep going, Miguel swore he could feel his precum seeping through his boxers and pants. How could he refuse you?

“Miguel-! I- I think I’m-“ You tried to warn him that you were close, your legs nearly giving out on you.

If it weren’t for Miguel’s large hands holding your hips up, you definitely would’ve collapsed on his face. But you were so desperate to cum, continuing to grind on his face as he licked a fat stripe from your hole to your clit. He caught his breath and looked up at you for a moment, his eyes dark and full of arousal.

“Go ahead, princesa… cum for me” Miguel moaned, going back to sucking your clit.

With just those words alone, the coil inside your stomach broke. You cried out loudly as you came, chanting his name over and over again. Your legs shook and you nearly collapsed onto him, Miguel catching you just in time. He licked up every drop of your release, making sure to not let it go to waste. You whimpered as he continued to lick your sensitive pussy, becoming overstimulated from his tongue. Your hands pressed down onto the table to hold yourself up, catching your breath as you carefully crawled off of his face.

As you sat down on the table next to Miguel, he sat up straight and faced you, panting heavily. Your eyes widened as you saw his chin was soaked from your juices, a dark blush forming across your cheeks. Miguel noticed your face as he finally caught his breath, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“How do you feel?” Miguel asked, licking his lips and wiping his chin off with his coat sleeve.

A soft breath left your mouth as you looked at him, a sheepish smile forming on your face, “I feel… I feel like that was the best thing I’ve ever experienced..”

Miguel chuckled and leaned over to you, placing a tender kiss to your lips. You melted against him and returned the kiss, slowly pulling away to look at him.

“I’m glad I could make you feel like that… say, uh… our shift actually ended like… 10 minutes ago” Miguel spoke as he checked his watch.

Your eyes widened as you looked around for your discarded clothes, Miguel quickly grabbing them before you could get off of the table.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got it. Just sit for a little bit, catch your breath” He mumbled, putting your clothes back on for you.

Your chest fluttered as he did so, smiling at him in a loving way. Miguel noticed this and chuckled as he helped you put your panties back on.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing… I was just wondering.. do you wanna stay the night at my place?” You offered, moving your hips a little as Miguel clothed you.

Miguel grinned widely at the offer, placing a peck to your forehead and nodding.

“Of course, I’d like that… I’ll buy dinner for us on the way there. My treat for this” Miguel hummed, putting your shirt on and placing soft kisses to your knuckles.

Your smile widened as he said that, pulling him in for a kiss. Miguel wrapped his arms around you as he kissed you back, his forehead pressed against yours as you two pulled away. He helped you off of the table and the both of you made your way out of the building, holding your hand and rubbing his thumb across your skin.

“Oh, by the way… I heard everything that happened with your co-workers. I was listening the whole time” Miguel admitted, looking over at you.

Your head whipped over to him, a surprised expression on your face. “You were-??”

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it. I actually got promoted as a manager a few weeks ago, so…”

Your eyes widened as a small gasp left your lips. “Wait, so that means-“

“That means you won’t be having to deal with them for much longer. I know those assholes have been messing with you since you got here… plus, everything they said about you is wrong. You’re the best worker this place has to offer and those dickheads have been here longer than you have” Miguel responded to you, placing a kiss to your temple.

A grin formed on your lips as joy filled your chest, squeezing Miguel’s hand.

“Thank you, Miguel… that means everything to me.”

“Of course. I gotta make sure my girl is okay.”

You let out a laugh as he said that, placing a soft kiss on his cheek as you walked with him down the street.

“So, is that your way of saying I’m your girlfriend now?” You chuckled.

“Only if you want to be” Miguel answered with a smirk.

You gently smacked his shoulder with your other hand and scoffed playfully, earning a laugh from him.

“Of course I do, Miguel.”

“Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

#atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel x reader #atsv #miguel smut #miguel o’hara x reader #Miguel O’Hara #miguel x you #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara smut

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

#captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #angst with a happy ending #angst #grovel #jealousy

[droolypupboy]

thread of things you can do to feel more puppy!!

warning, this is not for puppy regressors!! this is an nsfw post and probably not safe for u if you regress while online. stay safe, sfw puppies.

anyway. back to content for puppies who r fucking degenerates. i’m a switch & not only do i own a puppy sub but i am also one!! this is applicable for both partnered and solo pups, dw, there’s likely to be something here for everyone.

૮( ˃ ꒳ ˂)ა

◟/づ🦴

🐾 grind on pillows and/or furniture!! pillows are an accessible option for everyone, not everyone has furniture they can feel comfortable doing that on because maybe they don’t live alone or what have you. but pillows are an amazing option for any and all needy puppies.

🐾 snacks can help u feel puppy a lotttt!! while it can be fun to have your partner feed you little treats, you can also absolutely do this on your own. while you’re not in the headspace, set up small little snacks for you to have for when you follow rules or actions you set up for yourself. ppl often underestimate how satisfying solo play can be!! but it can be awesome. good ideas for pup snacks can be small cookies reminiscent of dog treats (scooby snack graham cracker cookies if you’re in the u.s., highly recommend), little cubes of meat and cheese, or dry cereal. it doesn’t have to be those things though, it can be anything broken up into small pieces. be creative!!

🐾 some people enjoy eating or drinking out of dog bowls but for some, that’s inaccessible or maybe just not to their taste. another option can be water bottles with spouts you have to suck on (oral fixation is so so so puppy!!). smaller sized snack bowls also work well for this. anything notably small can help a lot with headspace i find because a large part of puppyspace for many is feeling tiny and :3. if you know you know pfffft.

🐾 here’s a simple one!! have an article of clothing or jewelry you wear only during puppy time :) of course there’s the obvious ones; harnesses, ears, collars. but even just a bracelet or a sweater can work if you only wear it during pupspace and get your brain to associate it.

🐾 if you go into the headspace online (as i’m sure many of you reading do if ur here), you can do certain typing things to help you feel even more puppy. using certain emojis or doing a little :3 or :> it’s pretty common to have your voice change tone and your words get more simple when in a smaller mindset so it can be fun to have your typing also reflect this!! typing out “woof” or “arf” r silly but they r cute and i recommend it, 10/10.

🐾 find something you can safely bite on!! nothing you could choke on or that could hurt you. chewelry is rlly good for this, i’d recommend looking on etsy for some. but you can also just buy a new actual dog toy (fresh, not used, clean it before). puppies need to teethe!! the urge to bite is super common.

🐾 if you have enough privacy, play fetch with yourself. why not?? you can bounce a ball off the walls and even if you’re in a small room where you don’t have far to get to it, you’re still pretty likely to get excitable abt it!! if you’re doing this outside don’t put the toy in your mouth, if you’re indoors you can probably feel more comfortable to do this safely if you’re using something big enough not to choke yourself with.

🐾 ride toys!! it’s hard to do things yourself, riding or suction cupping a toy to a wall so you can just lay down and move ur needy hips against it can be wonderful for puppyspace.

🐾 suck your fingers or your partners fingers!! puppies need our mouths occupied. gently chewing on fingers, probably not enough to hurt (maybe tho, good for you), just enough to feel like you’re gnawing a bit, is SO so so good. this doesn’t even have to be sexual, drifting off to sleep with fingers or a gag (nothing that you could accidentally swallow) in your mouth can help you wake up puppy!! i wouldn’t recommend sleeping with a gag in long term, that’s more for naps or on special occasions. like i mentioned before; oral fixation oral fixation oral fixation!! you should also suck toys and cock 🤍🤍

🐾 wag your hips or kick your feet!! it’s like wagging ur tail :> wiggles can come naturally when in pupspace so embrace them as ur “phantom tail” pfffft

🐾 “puppyparts” “puppycunt” “puppyholes” “puppycock” “puppyanything”🏃🏃

remember, if some of these aren’t applicable to you and how you like to play, you are not any less puppy. these are general, not one size fits all. there are countless different ways to be puppy and i don’t think any two people should be doing it the EXACT same way. we all have our quirks, we all have our individual headspaces.

have fun and play safe, puppies 🐾🦴🎾

#nsft puppy #petpl4y #petpl@y #t4t nsft #mlm nsft #bd/sm pet #mlm petpl@y #t4t mlm #t4t petpl@y #p3t play #trans nsft #ftm nsft #ftm puppy

[pucksandpower]

Bet on It

Charles Leclerc x Marko!Reader

Summary: Charles will do anything for you to finally give him the time of day … even if that means betting on himself to pull off the impossible in exchange for a date with you

“Charles, don’t even start,” you raise your hand to stop him before he can get the words out.

His mouth closes and he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes, like a sad little boy who just got told he can’t have ice cream before dinner.

You have to resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think that’s going to work on you? You’ve seen that look a hundred times before, whenever you turn him down for a date.

Which is every time he’s asked.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pleads. “Just one date, that’s all I’m asking for.”

You shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. “Nope, not gonna happen.”

He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. That tousled mop looks like it hasn’t seen a comb in days. Somehow he manages to make the just-rolled-out-of-bed look work.

“Give me one good reason why not,” he challenges.

“I’ll give you three,” you fire back. “One, you’re an F1 driver, which means you have an ego the size of a not-so-small country. Two, you’re my team’s biggest rival. And three, you’re a player.”

He puts a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Moi? I would never.”

You fix him with a pointed stare and his innocent act crumbles.

“Okay fine, maybe I used to be,” he admits. “But I’m not like that anymore. I’m ready to settle down, and I want to do that with you.”

“Uh huh, sure you are,” you say skeptically. “I’m not some pitlane groupie. I don’t just fall all over myself for handsome drivers with dreamy eyes.”

His face lights up. “You think I have dreamy eyes?”

You feel your cheeks flush. Crap. You did not mean to let that slip out.

“That’s not the point,” you say quickly. “The point is, the answer is no. It’s always going to be no. So you can stop asking me out already.”

You turn on your heel to walk away, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist. You pause, looking back at him.

“Just one date,” he says again, green eyes boring into yours. “Give me a chance to prove myself. If you don’t have a good time, I’ll never ask you out again.”

You consider his offer. One date, that’s all he’s asking for. And really, what’s the harm? It’s not like you have to marry the guy if you go to dinner with him once.

Still … this is Charles Leclerc you’re dealing with. Who knows what kind of charms and flirtatious tricks he’d pull out to try and win you over? You know you find him attractive — those eyes really are dreamy — but getting involved with him would be messy, to say the least. Your grandfather would flip.

“I don’t think so,” you say firmly. “Like I already told you, it’s not going to happen.”

His face falls. For a second you feel a twinge of guilt. He looks so dejected. But then that spark of mischief is back in his eyes. Uh oh. You know that look. The wheels are turning. He’s got an idea.

“Okay, how about we make this interesting,” he says slowly. “If I win the race this weekend, you have to go on a date with me.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. Is he serious right now?

“Let me get this straight … you want to make a bet involving the outcome of the race, when it’s at the Red Bull Ring, our team’s home track, where Max has won four times in the last six seasons? With the rocket ship of a car that is the RB20?” You shake your head in disbelief. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

He shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. “I never said it was a sure thing. But if I manage to pull it off, then you have to hold up your end of the bargain.”

You consider his proposition. On the one hand, the chances of him winning in the Ferrari this weekend are not great. Statistically, Max is the clear favorite. So there’s really no risk of you actually having to go on a date with Charles.

On the other hand, you have to admit the idea is intriguing. And knowing Charles beat the odds to win would be kinda hot ...

Wait, what are you thinking? Get it together, Y/N! This is a terrible idea.

But before you can talk yourself out of it, you hear yourself saying, “Alright, you’re on.”

A wide grin spreads across Charles’ handsome face. “Yeah? We have a bet then?”

You nod, already wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake. “Yep. But don’t look so cocky. The chances of you winning are like a million to one.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says with a wink. Then he glances down at his watch. “I better go. See you in part fermé after the race.”

He turns and saunters off. You watch him go, heart sinking. What on earth have you just agreed to?

***

Your stomach is in knots on race day. You tried to play it cool in front of Charles, but the truth is, you are desperately hoping he does not win this race. One date with him and you know you’ll be a goner. You’re already more attracted to him than you want to admit.

You watch from the Red Bull garage as the cars go around on the formation lap. Charles is starting P5, with Max on pole. The odds are heavily in the World Champion’s favor.

But still … plenty of drivers have won from worse positions. And this is Charles Leclerc you’re talking about. When he sets his mind to something, he’s unstoppable.

The red lights go out and Max gets a clean start, streaking away into the lead. Charles has a decent launch off the line too, but he can’t challenge Max going into turn 1. He slots into P5 behind Lando Norris as they thunder down the straight for the first time.

Your grandfather shoots you a look from across the garage, one eyebrow quirked. He knows about the bet. He wasn’t exactly thrilled when you told him, but amusement seemed to win out over anger in the end. Probably because he’s just as confident as you are that Charles has no chance today.

The race unfolds lap after lap. Max opens up a huge gap while fighting rages behind him. Charles battles with the Mercedes of Lewis Hamilton, exchanging positions several times. By lap 20, Charles is up to P4, having pulled off a stellar overtake around the outside of turn 7.

Half distance comes and goes. Charles is closing in on Checo and George Russell ahead of him. He’s clearly got the bit between his teeth today. You watch with bated breath as he pulls alongside the Red Bull and Mercedes into turn 4, the three drivers going wheel to wheel with barely any room to spare. Charles emerges ahead and suddenly he’s P2.

Your grandfather shoots you another look. “He’s on the podium,” he remarks.

You bite your lip. You don’t need the reminder. Ugh, you knew you shouldn’t have agreed to this.

With 15 laps to go, Max’s engine unexpectedly lets go in a plume of smoke. Your grandfather curses while the Red Bull mechanics stare at the screens in disbelief. Charles swoops through into P1 with Checo behind him, the Ferrari now running up a solid lead.

Barring disaster, Charles is going to win this race. Which means you’re going to have to go on a date with him.

You watch the final laps tick down with growing dread. The checkered flag waves and the Ferrari garage erupts in celebration. Charles pulls the car to a stop and rips off his helmet, beaming from ear to ear. Even from here you can see the pure joy and elation on his face.

He jumps out of the cockpit and is immediately mobbed by his team. You try to slip away unnoticed, but one of the Ferrari press officers flags you down.

“Charles wants to see you for the podium celebration,” he says.

You close your eyes briefly in defeat. There’s no getting out of this now. Slowly you follow the man out to the cool down room. Charles is just coming out, still flushed with victory. When he sees you, his whole face lights up.

“I told you I could do it,” he crows, pulling you into an exuberant hug before you can protest. He smells like petrol and sweat.

“Yeah, yeah, congratulations,” you mumble into his race suit.

He grins down at you. “Don’t look so sad. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You force a smile, but inside your heart is sinking. One date with Charles and you know you’ll never be able to resist him again.

The podium passes in a blur. You manage to avoid any interviews, not trusting yourself not to say something you’ll regret on camera. Like what a cocky, arrogant, too-handsome-for-his-own-good flirt Charles is.

After what feels like an eternity of spraying champagne and cheering crowds, Charles finally finds you again. His hair is still damp and curled wildly from the celebratory drink.

Charles playfully wipes a splash of sparkling wine from your cheek, his touch lingering for a moment.

“Sorry about that,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

You just shake your head, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. His joy is infectious.

“I believe you owe me a date,” he says, looking far too pleased with himself.

You sigh, resigned to your fate. “I guess I did make a deal. When do you want to do this?”

“No time like the present.” He glances at his watch. “I’ll pick you up at 7. Wear something nice.”

Your eyes widen. Tonight? You were hoping to have a little more time to mentally prepare yourself. But before you can object, he leans in and presses a swift kiss to your cheek.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

Then he’s gone, strolling back to the Ferrari garage like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Meanwhile, your heart is thudding against your ribs. You touch your cheek where his lips branded your skin.

You just hope you have the strength not to give in to his charms completely. One date. That’s it. You are not going to fall for Charles Leclerc.

No matter how dreamy his eyes are.

***

The doorbell rings at 7pm sharp. You take a deep breath and smooth down your dress before opening the door.

Charles stands there looking unfairly handsome in a sharp charcoal suit. His eyes light up when he sees you.

“Wow,” he says, gaze traveling appreciatively over you. “You look amazing.”

You feel yourself blush. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself.”

He grins and offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

You loop your hand through his elbow and let him lead you to his car. He opens the door for you like a true gentleman. This sweet, chivalrous side is one you’ve never seen before. Already he’s subverting your expectations.

During the drive, Charles asks you questions and listens intently to your answers. He’s completely focused on you, making you feel like the most fascinating person in the world. By the time you arrive at the restaurant, a lovely Italian place near the city center, you’re feeling much more at ease.

Dinner passes enjoyably with playful, flirtatious conversation. Charles has you laughing one minute and blushing the next with his charm and undivided attention. He seems to know just what to say to make you smile. Not an ounce of cockiness or ego shows through.

After you polish off a shared tiramisu, Charles suggests a walk through the nearby park. You happily agree. As you stroll beneath the trees, he tentatively reaches for your hand. When you thread your fingers through his, the smile that lights up his face melts your heart.

You talk softly, learning more about each other. He asks thoughtful questions and shares things about himself that surprise you. Like his close relationship with his family, his secret talent for cooking (which you don’t believe for a second), and his love for composing music.

When he shyly admits he’s never felt this way about anyone before, you don’t doubt his sincerity for a moment. He means every word.

Too soon you’ve looped back to where you started and flag down the valet before making the drive back to the hotel. Charles walks you to your door, still holding your hand like he never wants to let go.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” you say softly.

“Me too.” He moves closer, searching your eyes. “I’d really like to see you again.”

Your breath catches at his closeness and the intensity in his gaze. The wise thing would be to end this now before it goes any further. But his hopeful, heart eyes crumble your resolve.

“I’d like that too,” you whisper.

A smile blooms on his face right before he leans in and kisses you. It’s soft and sweet, sending tingles down to your toes. When he pulls back, eyes shining, you know you’re a goner.

One date turns into two, then three, then suddenly you’re spending every weekend together, traveling between races. Charles goes out of his way to meet up with you, even when it means long flights in between events. Holding you in his arms seems to be the only thing that matters.

When he shyly asks you to be his girlfriend, you don’t hesitate a second before saying yes. The kiss he gives you leaves no doubt about his happiness.

Your grandfather is wary at first, but Charles is relentless, assuring him at every chance how deeply he cares about you. Eventually Helmut accepts that the man gazing at you like you hung the stars is nothing like the flirtatious playboy he assumed.

This is the real Charles — sweet, thoughtful, and absolutely devoted.

The two of you become inseparable. Charles arrives at every race with your hand clasped in his, making sure to greet your grandfather before and after with a handshake and sincere well wishes. He stays close through successes and disappointments, as you become his steadfast supporter.

At night you lay tangled together, talking late into the darkness. He whispers secrets no one else knows and you bare your soul in return. You’ve never felt more understood by someone. In his arms is your favorite place in the world.

When he shyly gives you a key to his Monaco apartment, tears fill your eyes. Calling it home feels as natural as breathing.

Whenever you walk through the door, his eyes light up like you’re the answer to every prayer. He sweeps you into his arms, holding you close as he whispers “I missed you.”

Charles looks at you like he’s seeing his future. “I want this forever,” he murmurs against your lips.

You look into those watercolor eyes and know you never stood a chance at resisting. “Me too.”

***

The new season kicks off and you’re thrilled to be back in the paddock with Charles. The only downside is having to part ways when you reach the garages, going to opposite sides of the divide.

You’ve gotten used to your Red Bull team gear. The colors are familiar, almost comforting. Charles has gently brought up the idea of you wearing Ferrari red instead, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. That would feel like the ultimate betrayal.

Charles accepts your decision with his usual grace. He knows how difficult this situation is for you, caught between loyalties. But the gleam in his eye tells you he hasn’t given up on swaying you yet.

Sure enough, as Monza approaches, Charles issues a new challenge.

“If I win our home race, you have to wear Ferrari merch next time,” he coaxes, punctuating his request with a kiss.

You pretend to think about it. “Hmm, I guess I could do that.” Seeing his smile light up melts your reluctance.

Charles takes pole position on Saturday, amping up the pressure. Still, you’re not too worried. Max has this in the bag.

Famous last words. You really should have learned better the first time.

Only Max doesn’t have it in the bag. Charles drives a flawless race and takes the victory, the Tifosi crowd exploding with delirious joy. Charles standing proudly atop the podium in front of the sea of fans is a sight you’ll never forget.

Now you have to hold up your end of the bargain.

The next race weekend you show up with a red Ferrari team shirt stretched across your shoulders, a matching cap gracing your head. You feel like a fraud, but a deal’s a deal.

You’re trying to sneak through the paddock unnoticed when a reporter flags you down.

“Y/N, care to explain the new look?” She asks, eyeing your outfit.

You shift awkwardly, grasping for words. “Oh, um, well ...”

Before you can formulate a response, an excited voice interrupts. “That’s my girl!”

Charles appears out of nowhere and throws an arm around you, beaming at the camera.

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan.” He declares. “Even if they say they’re not, they are Ferrari fans.”

He emphasizes this point by planting a kiss directly on your mouth. You flush crimson but can’t help smiling against his lips.

Pulling back, he winks and shoots the camera a million dollar grin. “She looks good in red, no?”

With that he steers you away, leaving the reporter chuckling behind you.

“You’re terrible,” you scold Charles, but you’re laughing too.

He just grins and kisses your temple. “Maybe so, but I’m your terrible boyfriend who you love very much, yes?”

You roll your eyes but snuggle closer into his side. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

Tomorrow you’ll be back in dark blue, but right now, wrapped in Charles’ embrace and seeing how happy it makes him, you can’t bring yourself to mind the color change too much.

Maybe eventually you’ll get used to alternating depending on whose garage you’re watching from that day. It seems Charles Leclerc has more sway over you than you ever could have imagined, enough to override even a lifetime of team loyalties.

And, as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on earth, you can’t find it in yourself to regret that fact one bit.

***

After the stunt Charles pulled with the interview, you decide turnabout is fair play. An idea starts forming, bringing a devious smile to your lips. Time for a little payback.

You bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment. Finally, an off weekend arrives where Charles is staying at your place. When he goes out to run errands on Saturday morning, you set your plan in motion.

A quick trip to Agent Provocateur provides the supplies you need. After Charles leaves, you slip into the dressing room and emerge wearing a sexy red lace teddy that leaves little to the imagination.

Checking yourself in the mirror, you make a few adjustments. The color is Ferrari red through and through. Charles’ eyes are going to bug out of his head when he sees you in this.

You hear the front door open right on cue. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls.

“In here!” You reply, reclining casually across the bed. You arrange yourself in a tempting pose and wait.

A moment later Charles appears in the doorway, loaded down with his own shopping bags. When he spots you, he freezes, jaw dropping. The bags tumble unheeded to the floor.

You bite your lip coyly. “Welcome home.”

“What … I … you …” Charles stammers, eyes round as saucers as they rove over you. He seems incapable of forming a coherent thought.

You toss your hair back with exaggerated nonchalance. “Oh this old thing? Just trying on some new clothes. What do you think?”

Charles makes a strangled noise, still rooted to the spot.

You take pity on him and pat the bed. “Why don’t you come over here and show me how much you like it?”

That snaps him out of his stupor. In two strides he’s across the room, mouth capturing yours hungrily. You melt into his kiss, winding your arms around his neck.

When you finally come up for air, his eyes are blazing. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You trail a fingertip down his chest. “Payback for your little stunt.”

He grins sheepishly. “Okay, I deserved that. But this ...” His heated gaze travels over you again. “You look incredible. Only one thing would make it better ...”

He hurries over to his gear bag, rummaging excitedly. With a flourish, he produces his cap, a large 16 prominently embroidered on the front. Plopping it on your head, he steps back to admire the effect.

“Perfect,” he declares. Taking your hand, he tugs you to the full length mirror.

The vision staring back makes you catch your breath. The red teddy clinging to every curve, paired with Charles’ cap tilted rakishly on top of cascading hair … you have to admit it’s hot. No wonder Charles looks ready to combust.

His arms slide around you from behind, lips finding that sensitive spot beneath your ear. “Have I mentioned how sexy you look in red?” He murmurs.

You tilt your head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure. “Mmm, I think you better show me some more.”

Charles grins against your skin. “With pleasure.”

Scooping you up, he deposits you back on the bed and proceeds to worship every inch of the tantalizing red lingerie with hands, lips, and devoted words.

By the time he finally peels it off you, the teddy is a tattered scrap. But the awed look in his eyes makes it clear the effect is unforgettable.

Laying wrapped in each other’s arms afterward, you kiss the tip of his nose playfully. “So I take it you liked your surprise?”

“Liked it?” He shakes his head in wonder. “I absolutely loved it. You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You snuggle into his chest, satisfied. “Well in that case, expect to see more Ferrari red in my collection in the future.”

His eyes light up. “You’re going to be the death of me. But what a way to go.”

You’ll have to add some rosso corsa to your closet. Not that you mind.

A small price to pay to see that look in his eyes, like you’re the answer to his wildest fantasies come true.

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[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.

Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day

—Digging Gaze

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt. 

Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason. 

A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance. 

So that left you here. 

You were pregnant. 

You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test. 

Pregnant.

It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course. 

But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.

And you wouldn’t put this on him.

At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face. 

“Johnny?” You ask, blinking. 

The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.

“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—” 

The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave. 

“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.” 

You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”

Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant. 

Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.

“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”

“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”

“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you. 

“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”

“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”

“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”

“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”

“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”

In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.

And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.

Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.

The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else. 

You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink. 

“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.

Damn that Scot.

“Eight and a half,” you say quietly. 

Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause. 

“When’s the next appointment—”

“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”

Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you. 

Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.

“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.

“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”

“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.” 

“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”

“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”

Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.

A daughter. 

But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either. 

This was new territory.

“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath. 

“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”

“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.

You had more self-respect than that.

“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer. 

Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon. 

You frown. 

You huff.

And you open the door wider.

“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”

The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.

#tw sex mention #tw pregnancy #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #cod mw22 #x female reader #mw2 #call of duty x you #mw2 2022 #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod ghost

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ i’m afraid that’s just the way the world works (but i think that it could work for you and me)

synopsis. suguru stumbles across two girls that need a home. somehow, one step at a time, you both find yourselves navigating parenthood

word count. 5.4k (sigh...this was supposed to be a drabble)

contents. not canon compliant at all—there are still curses, but it's literally an au where everything turns out happy LMAO, teacher! suguru, husband! suguru, fem! reader, reader is referred to as "wife" and "mommy," hints at child neglect/abuse (nanako and mimiko's backstory), yuji, nobara and megumi are the ones that save nanako and mimiko—the timeline is inaccurate bc the twins are still kids when megumi and co. are teens, single dad! satoru who raised megs and tsumiki (tsumiki is ALIVE and NOT CURSED) <3, it's just fluff tbh, it's overall healing and happy i promise

notes. yeah i am telling u i literally shoved every fix-it fic idea for jjk into one fic okay and u will all nod along and agree with it. this was supposed to be a drabble but i literally just could not shut up so now its a fic

“there are these two girls,” suguru says quietly at dinner one night, pulling you from the comfortable silence. you look up as you swallow, eyeing him as you nod carefully—nothing is ever a normal conversation when your husband is a jujutsu teacher. nothing is ever a normal conversation when you’re capable of jujutsu in general, you’ve learned that well by now.

“okay…” you say slowly, “and are they your students?” 

they must be new, if they are. you know all of suguru’s students; you know them well enough to pick birthday presents and bring what they each like from the bakery. you don’t think you know of these two—they must be new.

“no,” he breathes, “no, they’re too young for that. maybe someday,” he adds hopefully.

“maybe someday,” you agree thoughtfully.

suguru loves teaching. it’s not something he ever saw himself doing—but life is dark at one point, a constant cloud looming over his head as it screams it’s over! your youth is over.

sometimes it hits him all at once—no one was there to protect suguru’s youth, no one was there for satoru’s or nanami’s, and certainly not haibara’s. no one was there to make sure they could be kids, that the sun could still shine and chase the clouds away. 

so suguru becomes a teacher. he’s fond of the kids—and they like him too. geto sensei, they call, geto sensei, look! and then he pauses in the hall, holds back an amused chuckle before turning to face an overly enthusiastic yuji and nobara. megumi is not far behind, that disgruntled look on his face as always, but if you look closely, his eyes are soft and laced with something close to fondness.

geto sensei is a favorite—much more of a favorite than gojo sensei is, to satoru’s utter dismay. you can’t help but watch proudly sometimes, can’t help but watch how much suguru has grown as he interacts with those kids, how much he’s allowed himself to grow, how much he’s let himself try to chase the sun instead of letting the clouds convince him the light no longer exists. 

“they’re five,” suguru continues, poking the soba in front of him as he doesn’t meet your gaze. “the kids found them on a mission. in a cage.”

you know what that means instantly. you look at suguru, watching as his eyes stare numbly at the food in front of him—sometimes, you worry that suguru will once more fall victim to those bone-chilling thoughts he shares with you one night. sometimes you worry he’ll slip and fall once more and you won’t notice this time, won’t reach your fingers and grasp him at the last second. 

but he blinks, looks up and meets your eyes this time, stares into them and searches them for what he needs. he finds it, you think, because there’s light returning to them once more. 

maybe it’s hope, maybe it’s acceptance. maybe it’s neither, and he’s just happy to have you to come back to when the world gets too burdensome. you’re not sure, but you do know you’ll always be there, right where he needs you.

“what happened to them?” you ask gently, “was it their parents?”

“no,” he shakes his head, “the villagers. their parents are dead.”

it’s not new—you’ve seen it before too. children tend to notice their techniques at this age. it’s not new to hear about children with no family history of sorcerers being labeled as some type of other in the family, in the community, or in the village. 

suguru is lucky in that way—his mother and father see him as something special, something worth celebrating, something greater than they could ever hope to be. you meet them once every year, just for a few days. they love you, greeting you with kind smiles and warm hugs, pulling you inside as they get dinner ready. you visit his old room and smile as you rake your fingers over the figures on his desk and the cd’s he used to collect. his mother keeps his room in perfect condition, even after all these years. 

you remind him to call more. sometimes, he tries—just for you, he tries. it’s hard for him, you realize. sometimes suguru is guilty; sometimes, he’s haunted by what he almost did but thankfully didn’t. it’s hard to face his parents ever since, even if they’re blissfully unaware. it’s easier to love them from afar, he thinks. but you insist he calls more, so he does. sometimes hearing his mother’s voice is what he needs, even if he doesn’t like to admit it.

“so…what’ll happen to them?” you ask quietly. 

“they’re at the school for tonight,” he mumbles, “there’s enough bedrooms, anyway. but…”

but they can’t stay there forever, is what he wants to say, you know that. staying at jujutsu high is hardly enough for children so young. they need a proper home, a proper family. you can’t help but stare down at your own bowl of soba. it’s hard to watch children suffer like this. it’s especially hard on suguru—he chose to teach to help those kids, to be there. somethings, however, cannot be fixed by simply being there.

“and then what will happen after?”

“they need a home,” he says quietly, “and…listen, i know we never really…we’ve never discussed something like this. but…maybe for a while, just until something better is decided, we could…”

you know what he’s trying to say before he can even say it—you and suguru have never discussed children. you don’t think you ever really want to, and you’re fairly certain he feels the same. it’s hard to lose haibara when you’re just a young kid, hard to live with the fact that someone so young and hopeful about the world is here one second and then gone the next. you see nanami sometimes—he’s kind to you, greets you politely, and asks how you are. but nothing about him has ever been the same since that day.

will your children meet the same fate? will you have them one second and lose them the next? will you patiently wait for them to come to visit the next chance they get from school, only to get a phone call no parent deserves to hear? they’re common in the jujutsu world. it’s a risk every parent has to take. some are selfish—rightfully so. some don’t care to let their children master their techniques, arguing it’s better to have a child that’s incapable and alive than gifted and dead. what if your children end up like nanami? the one who manages to live but can never accept the fact, not when someone else is dead. how will you be a pillar of strength? how can you tell them it’s okay to live as long as it’s not them who’s dead? how can you help them grieve when you are always grieving yourself?

you don’t think you ever want children, and you think you’re right in your assumption that suguru agrees. 

but those girls need a home, and you know the look on suguru’s face means options are limited—scarily so. you look at him for a while, look at him and see the way he’s got his heart set on these two girls—suguru has lost more than you ever could, and if this is something he thinks he should do, you think it might be worth a chance.

“bring them for dinner tomorrow,” you say finally, bringing soba to your lips, “i’d like to meet them.”

it’s not a straight answer, but it’s a start. suguru nods, smiling gently at you before he continues with his own dinner. it’s silent after that, but it’s not uncomfortable. he still steals your last bite of soba at the end, and you still roll your eyes and let him. you wash the dishes together after that, argue over whose turn it is to rinse and whose turn it is to dry—it’s routine, and you’re grateful you have something to look forward to in this cruel world, something you can count on regularly.

—————

hasaba nanako and hasaba mimiko. 

those are their names. megumi says so when he first brings them to suguru. nanako is blonde, a bit bolder than mimiko, who’s brunette. nanako is older by five minutes, and she likes to remind everyone when she can. mimiko holds nanako’s hand when she’s nervous, and nanako squeezes tightly with a smile. they’re a mellow pair, despite it all. a little distrusting and a little nervous when too many people are in a room at once.

they take a liking to suguru, however. satoru is a bit too loud and boisterous for them, but suguru is kind and soft and gives them gentle head pats when they cooperate and answer his questions. on the way home, he asks them if they’d like something from the bakery.

it leaves them a bit quiet, right until he looks over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow as he awaits their answer.

“we’ve never been to one,” nanako answers quietly, the first to speak between the two, as always.

“is that so?” suguru asks gently. they nod, still holding hands.

children of five summers, and they have never picked out a cake for even a birthday—he wonders why that is. they shouldn't have shown signs of having cursed techniques so young, there should be no reason to mistreat them so early on—the conclusion he comes to makes him even unhappier. parents should never have children if they aren’t willing to love them, he thinks bitterly.

“it’s alright,” mimiko says finally, “we don’t need—”

“come on then,” suguru grabs nanako’s free hand, gently pulling them both along the busy streets of tokyo, “my wife’s favorite bakery is around the corner. we’ve tried everything they have by now, so you’ll have to tell us what’s your favorite, yeah?”

it’s nanako who answers again first, nodding slowly before she smiles hopefully. “okay,” she murmurs. 

from the corner of his eyes, suguru notices mimiko gently pull her hand from her sister’s, quickly taking a few steps as she walks across in front of him before promptly finding herself on his other side. her hand reaches for his—it’s slow, a bit unsure, so he grabs it delicately, giving a small squeeze as he grins down at her.

“wait until you try the strawberry cake,” he hums, “that’s my favorite.”

—————

suguru comes home with two small girls on either side of him and more bags than you can count from the bakery just five minutes from your apartment. you blink before rushing over and taking a few bags from his hands.

“did you just buy one of everything or something?” you ask incredulously, staring at all the boxes of goods within the bags. 

he grins that closed-eye smile of his, crinkles forming in the corners as he says, “well, of course,” like it’s the most normal thing ever to buy one of every item in a large bakery in the heart of tokyo. “the girls have never been to a bakery before so i thought we could let them try everything and rank them.”

you look down at the girls, who stare at you nervously as they cling to each other. instantly, as soon as you meet their eyes, you can’t help but drop down to your knees to meet their level as you smile softly. 

“why hello there,” you murmur, ruffling each head gently. they like that—suguru texted you that earlier, that they seem to brighten considerably when he offers them a gentle pat on the head in affection. “what are your names?”

“i’m nanako,” the blonde one answers instantly—suguru is equal parts shocked and equal parts pleased by her new air of confidence. he wonders if she’d be a bright and energetic child right about now, if the world hadn’t crushed her under and forced her to live meekly. “and i’m older by five minutes.”

“hello nanako, the eldest by five minutes,” you answer seriously, nodding as though it’s a crucial fact to her identity, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. and what about you?” 

the brunette clutches her sister’s hand a little tighter—but nanako seems to have deemed you as safe. anyone geto sensei (as the other kids seem to call him) trusts is someone they don’t have to be on guard around. she nudges mimiko gently, encouraging her to tell you her name.

“i’m mimiko,” she says quietly. she seems to be holding a small, pink stuffed toy. it’s seen better days, you think, but a nice wash and a few stitches to the top of its head should have it looking quite a lot better. 

“and hello to you too, mimiko,” you smile, “are you younger by five minutes, then?”

she giggles a little at that before nodding, “i am,” she assures, “but i’m smarter.”

“are not!” nanako says instantly, gasping. you and suguru share a look, amused and fond and relieved all at once.

“what a lovely toy,” you murmur, tracing the eyes with your finger. she droops a little at that—like being reminded of its condition is something that breaks her spirit.

“it’s ripped,” she mumbles, “it wasn’t before.”

“i can fix it,” you offer, “suguru is always ripping his uniforms, but lucky for him, his sweet little wife here is a fixer-upper.”

“really?” she brightens. you nod, chuckling as you ruffle her hair, doing the same to nanako, too, when she eyes you hopefully from the side. 

“that sounds great,” suguru interrupts, “but i believe i have cakes that need to be tried and mouths that are not trying.”

you rise, rolling your eyes and standing next to him, and his hand gently grabs yours. thank you, he squeezes. always, you squeeze back.

“well, come on, girls,” you usher. mimiko grabs your free hand, and suguru grabs nanako’s—you all make your way to the dinner table. it feels oddly natural, you think. “we have desserts to try. the chocolate one will definitely be your favorite, i can feel it.”

“it’ll be strawberry,” suguru says confidently. 

you meet his gaze, grinning at him as he stares at you hopelessly in love. it’s always been enough, you and suguru—it’s always been more than enough with just the two of you. so enough, that you never wanted more. but this is nice too, you think. this is something you could get used to, even if it breaks the routine you’ve learned to love just a bit.

—————

nanako and mimiko stay at your house that night, and somehow, that turns into a week. sometimes, suguru takes them with him to school, just to handle a few things that are still to be taken care of regarding their case. you find you miss three instead of one while you’re home alone for the day. 

they return cheery each time, bags of deserts in hand and a newfound glow in their eyes. mimiko’s toy is much cleaner now, and the small rips have been carefully sewn shut by you from the first night they spend. she clutches it everywhere she goes, hugs it in her sleep too. it’s hopelessly endearing. 

nanako takes a liking to suguru’s phone—he’s a bit too giving with her, you think. she’s managed to figure out his passcode rather quickly, and he lets her get away with it, watching her small fingers work the buttons of whatever game she's downloaded with a gentle look of affection over his features. 

on the days that suguru goes to school alone, the girls are left in your care for the day—you don’t usually have someone to keep you company while you’re at home. you’ve quit being a sorcerer long ago, deciding that it’s not worth the constant back-and-forth tug of war with life and death. 

perhaps it's selfish—people are dying every day, and you sit and let it happen, but you can’t help it. it’s too much, sometimes. suguru has always supported it, though, has always murmured that you’re doing the right thing and that sorcerers deserve quiet, peaceful lives, too, if they wish. so you do just that, stay home and learn a new dish or two through the day, watch a few shitty sitcoms on the television, leave and do some grocery shopping for the week, and return home to your quiet little apartment (as quiet as an apartment can get in tokyo, that is) and wait for your husband to come home. 

suguru comes home by seven pm every day and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead as he says, hello, wife, to which you giggle and murmur, hi there, husband. you have dinner after that and share details about your days with each other. yuji and nobara are arguing again, suguru will tell you sometimes, i think nobara will cave and talk first this time, though. i brought fresh strawberries from the season’s harvest, you murmur behind a glass of water to your lips, got them just for you, sugu.

it’s been a routine like that ever since your marriage. you marry suguru quietly when you barely turn twenty, just a room full of the few people you dare let yourself love and the two of you as you sign the papers and share a kiss. there’s an extravagant meal waiting for you after, though, courtesy of gojo satoru, a man with more money than he could hope to use on himself. satoru is happy that day—happier than you’ve ever seen him in a long, long while. he takes his bandages off, sits and watches everything, and takes it all in even if it’ll bite him back in the ass later with a long, pounding migraine. 

today, however, is a saturday—school is out, and anyone who doesn’t have a mission is free to have the day to themselves. suguru hasn’t taken a large mission in ages, years, even. he accepts small ones here and there, and if it really calls for it, he joins a tough one with his students—but it’s for their sake more than anything. but the big ones are too much for him to handle regularly anymore. the higher-ups aren’t happy—special-grade sorcerers are hard to come by, and it’s unfair that the lower-grade ones are busting their necks out there more than he is. but suguru deserves a semblance of control over his well-being, and with satoru on his side, there isn’t much of anything the higher-ups can really do.

he sits on the couch, scrolling through his phone as you click the remote, finding something to watch. 

“you know, we should really talk about this,” suguru mumbles from the side. it’s early, still. barely eight am, and the girls are still sleeping. they’ll be up soon—and with that, will be gone any moment for you and suguru to share a private moment.

they didn’t warn you about that part of kids—you knew it was a busy job, watching over them, but you figured leaving them to play for a bit would grant you some peace. you and suguru quickly learn that children, no matter how well-behaved and disciplined, always need a watchful eye on them. 

“talk about what?” you yawn, “it’s too early for you to speak in codes.”

“the girls,” he says, unimpressed. oh. right.

“what about them?” you say, dancing around the edge of the real issue. he sees right through you—you know he will. still, you’re petulant enough to try and dodge the topic anyway.

“it’s been a week,” he says seriously, “those kids think this is their new home. it’s cruel to make them think that any longer if we don’t…”

keep them. let them stay. let them become a part of this home and, by extension, this family that has always just been you and suguru. raise them. take them in. take responsibility over them. love them. 

can you love? like that, at least? are you meant to be a mother? you’re too selfish, you think—you couldn’t even stay fighting curses for long, too weak to care about those who need you, and too focused on needing yourself. can you handle two children? if you do this, you can’t do anything else but do it right—it’s what they deserve. but you don’t know if you can give them what they deserve.

but there aren’t many better options either, you remind yourself. 

suguru seems to know what you’re thinking because he murmurs, “i think it’s easier to raise children than be a sorcerer,” he says quietly. 

you raise an eyebrow skeptically. “you can walk away from being a sorcerer, suguru. being a parent is for life.”

“being a parent means you get to love,” he reasons, “unconditionally. without regrets. without a contract, you know? loving a sorcerer is just betting how long someone has left to live, at the end of the day.”

“how morbid of you,” you snort.

“they’re good kids,” he says quietly, “great, even.”

“they’re lovely,” you agree. and then, quieter this time, “i…i would miss them. more than i care to admit.”

“me too,” he nods. 

your head falls to his chest, and he presses a kiss to your head, wrapping his arms around you. suguru has always loved you—when the world was not worth loving, and the people were not worth saving, suguru had loved you. he still does. and the way you love him is enough to make all of those things change. the world has a little more hope, and the people are a little less ugly when you’re there to prove not everything is bad. that even where the bad exists, the good can follow. as long as he has you, suguru is complete—but he thinks more is not always so bad.

“suguru?” you ask gently. he hums, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles as he squeezes your hand, “we won’t force them,” you say firmly, “to do anything. they should exist as themselves if they want to. cursed techniques or not.”

he smiles. you don’t see it, and you don’t have to. you know it’s that deep, eye-crinkling smile that’s heartfelt and real. 

“no, we won’t force them,” he agrees, “they’re perfect as is.”

—————

the girls are given the option to each get the two spare rooms you and suguru have in your apartment. that leaves ultimately no guest room, but you think they deserve to have their own space and be their own people after everything. but, as you and he had expected, they choose to share a room and stay together.

you’ll never forget the looks on their faces when they realize they’re staying here permanently, the look of pure excitement and the slightest hints of shock—you never realized how fulfilling it could be to make two children smile like that. 

“we can’t paint the walls,” you hum, “we don’t own this place. but we can still decorate,” you offer. 

they don’t seem all that disappointed about not being able to paint their walls—instead, they’re too excited about their beds, giggling as they jump on the mattress. suguru wants to tell them that jumping on mattresses is bad for the springs, but you stop him—they deserve to be kids for a bit. after that, you’ll teach them. but for now, they deserve to just be kids.

“can we get lights?” nanako asks—now that you and suguru are guardians to two children (parents seems…a bit too overwhelming to use right now), spontaneous dates don’t happen one on one anymore. evidently, it’s hard to find babysitters on the spot, and leaving them home alone is not an option, so you decide to simply bring them along on your weekly sunday afternoon cafe visit. nanako takes a liking to the lights on the walls, and mimiko eats three slices of cake. 

you can’t wait to bring them next week, too. 

“you sure can,” suguru hums, chuckling. 

“and a mirror?”

“of course,” you nod, “you’ll certainly need one to make sure the beauty sleep works.”

nanako giggles, flopping onto the bed, and mimiko sits not long after, still hugging that toy to her chest as she looks around the room in wonder. they’ve been sleeping in it for over a week now, but now that they can officially call it their own, they seem to be much more attached.

“i want pink sheets,” nanako hums.

“i want blue,” mimiko mumbles, looking at you shyly. 

“well,” suguru murmurs so that only you can hear, “maybe we can get them two beds. smaller one—they’ll fit on either side.”

“and what do we do with this one, then?” you raise a brow.

“we…sell it?”

“suguru, are you trying to drain every last bit of our savings?”

“we have plenty,” he chuckles, “we don’t ever do anything.” 

that much is true—you and suguru hardly leave tokyo let alone japan, and though you let yourselves splurge on nice things, there isn’t much to spend on between two people. but the last few days have really put into perspective how…expensive raising children can be. clothing and school supplies (they’ll attend a normal school) and room decor and snacks, and anything else children require to be children is quite denting to bank accounts. 

but you and suguru can’t say you mind—and if nanako and mimiko want pink and blue sheets, well…you think you can make that happen.

“i think we’re spoiling them,” you mumble, “should we be doing that?”

he wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his chest as his nose presses to the top of your head when he kisses it. he’s warm, just like he always is—maybe warmer now, in fact. 

“nah,” he grins, “i think we’re doing great.”

—————

the girls take their time to warm up to satoru, but when they finally do, he seems to be a favorite. satoru is very proud of this fact—he’s not a lot of children’s favorite…well, maybe yuji’s perhaps, but you don’t think yuji has a single bone in his body that could really dislike anyone. or rank them, to be quite honest—you don’t think he prefers satoru or suguru over the other.

“oh, kids,” satoru calls, stepping into your apartment and letting himself in. you and suguru are in the middle of making dinner, looking back in shock from the kitchen as satoru waves enthusiastically at you both.

“satoru, how did you even get in?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. he grins, practically giggling as he points to your husband.

“suguru gave me a key.”

“what?” suguru sputters, “no, i didn’t!”

“you let me borrow them,” satoru concedes—that’s still not even anywhere near the truth.

“i left them at your place and kindly asked you to bring them to me at work the next day,” suguru corrects, crossing his arms and looking thoroughly unimpressed.

“yes, and i did what you should have done a long time ago and made myself a copy,” satoru huffs, “i’m the best friend! i deserve a key—”

“gojo sensei!” the girls call. 

as most kids do, they pick up what they hear around them. everyone seems to refer to satoru and suguru as gojo sensei and geto sensei. they’re not students, but nanako and mimiko both pick up on the habit too—and it’s helplessly adorable, you can’t deny.

sometimes, you want to correct them, but they seem excited to see satoru, so you let the moment pass.

“there they are!” satoru beams, taking his blindfold off and crouching down to meet them in the eye—nanako and mimiko seem to find satoru infinitely more approachable when his eyes are out and easy to look into. you can’t imagine why—he looks like a creep. “i brought dessert! because what’s life without something sweet, right? are these two feeding you girls the sugar you need to grow into tall, healthy young women?”

“this is why you should never be allowed near children,” you say flatly. 

satoru looks at you with a pointed look, “i practically raised megumi and tsumiki, y’know. saving young siblings and giving them a nice home life is old news, i already did that. be more original, please.”

what a jackass—you scowl at him, throwing the wooden spoon in your hand at his head and watching as it doesn’t even touch him and falls to the floor. curse his infinity.

“okay, now,” suguru chuckles, “i don’t want to spend the evening looking after four children instead of two—”

“geto sensei! thanks for having us over for dinner,” yuji interrupts, stepping through the door that satoru took such great care not to close, “fushiguro was a bit of a hassle to convince, though.”

suguru throws a sharp glare at satoru as soon as three of their students step into your home—you’re going to have to forget the dinner you’re making and order takeout, you think. satoru will pay.

“this is why you didn’t get a key,” suguru hisses, “because then you act like you own the place.”

“i wanted a family gathering,” satoru gasps, “tsumiki is coming too! wait for her.”

despite the way suguru grabs satoru’s hair—and satoru, for some reason, turns off his infinity and lets him—you notice the corners of your husband’s mouth twitching into a gentle smile, and you know he’s thinking the same thing as you. family—nanako and mimiko are here, and so are yuji, and nobara, and megumi, and satoru (the biggest headache), and soon, tsumiki too. 

family—yes, this is family, you think.

—————

“daddy, i’m hungry,” mimiko tugs on suguru’s sleeve.

“i know, pumpkin, just give me a second and—”

“daddy, look! i beat the high score on my game and—”

“daddy is looking, sweetie, just give me one minute, nanako, yeah? daddy will look and—”

“wow,” satoru chuckles, grinning amused, “you’re really worn thin.”

“satoru,” suguru grumbles, “if you’re not going to help, then please leave.”

nanako and mimiko are seven now. in two years, their personalities have really blossomed—something which you and suguru are very grateful for. the world should not crush children so young that they don’t get to be the children they are meant to be. you and suguru take great care to make sure they know they can be kids. 

and they are—they whine about bedtime and pick at their vegetables and point at everything in the store and plead for something new. they’re children—your children, and you can’t help but love them unconditionally so.

“well, welcome to fatherhood,” suguru snaps, trying his best to make lunch and entertain the two girls waiting for his attention. 

suguru is a good father—a gentle one, in fact. he comes home every day from work and grins, asking in that smooth voice of his, where are my ladies? and just like that, you and your two girls meet him with excited grins. you peck his lips before he crouches down and pulls two small bodies against his chest, letting their tiny arms wrap around his neck as he hoists them up.

it’s a perfect little routine, one you cherish greatly. but the girls are getting older, and soon, they’ll be too heavy to carry like this. it makes you a little sad to think about—but if there’s one thing you’ve learned, breaking routine isn’t always so bad. soon there will be a new one, and when you outgrow that, another new one, and so on.

what won’t ever change is the way you love suguru, and he loves you, and you both love your daughters, and they love you both too. 

“daddy,” nanako calls, “where’s mommy?”

“at the store, nanako,” he says patiently, sighing. this is the fifth time she’s asked.

“when will she be back?”

“soon, nanako,” he smiles assuringly, “at least, i hope so,” he adds quietly, under his breath.

satoru hears, though—and he cackles, heinously loud, too, as he watches the scene unfold in amusement. but satoru is suguru’s best friend, and yours too. and the girls love him. he’s family—and so are their students. 

it’s nice, suguru thinks, it’s nice to have something worth smiling for.

“i’m home!” you call, “is satoru here? because the door was unlocked—”

“mommy!” the girls call, cutting you off with the pitter-patter of small, excited little feet hitting the ground and greeting you. 

“why hello,” you gasp excitedly, laughing as they tackle you in a hug.

you and suguru share a smile as he looks back—family, it’s what you’ve both built here. it’s slow at first, and sometimes it wasn’t easy. at one point, it was just the two of you, just you and suguru, and that was okay. you didn’t think you would ever be capable of letting it be more—but it’s nice when it grows, you think. maybe one day, you can dare to hope to grow it some more.

the scene were they got 2 beds—that was me and my sister when we first moved into our weeeee lil apartment back when i was in middle school !! we were bummed bc we couldn't paint the walls but our parents let us have 2 beds so we could pick our sheets !! it was a fond memory LOL but now i DO have a room where i painted the color except i HATE the color now bc i was still in middle school when we moved into our house and got to pick colors and middle school me and adult me are soooo different so now i have a teal bedroom that haunts me

#teepods.writings #fics. #geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you

[little-pondhead]

Just spent the last hour trying to figure out how to do one specific thing in Krita and let me tell you I still do not know how to do the thing.

#it’s three am rn #i am defeated and my hand hurts #i wanted to insert a picture into a grouped layer #so it will show up on certain parts #but the best I got was a transparency mask??? #still have no idea how those work and I’m not sure if it’s what I was looking for #cause it was transparent #for my profile picture #I’m wearing a corset with a famous painting on it #so I’ve done this before #i just don’t remember what I did #pondhead rambles #I’m tired as fuck

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU ; — you can’t help but feel a little upset thinking that your boyfriend has forgotten your anniversary.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, none, fluff! although it gets a tiny bit hawt at the end! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! an anon suggested this drabble idea literally like sometime last year + the new szn finally gave me some motivation to write it! i hope u see this!

3 years.. 3 years and gojo didn’t leave you with so much as a “happy anniversary” as he left this morning. you’d have even taken an extra smack on the ass during your usual morning makeout session, the taste of his two sugar’s too sweet coffee on his tongue as it twists with yours and his hands on your waist.. but that’s it, that’s all???

so now you’re here, angrily stomping back to your shared apartment after the few errands you had to run today because you took the day off to celebrate. but your dumb, stupidly handsome boyfriend doesn’t even know what for as he rambles on the other side of the phone.

“can feel you poutin’, what’s gotten into my sweet girl? hm?” gojo hums like hes thinking about something, his same sickly sweet tone dripping through you like honey despite the way you want to be mad at him right now— you would’ve ignored the call all together, just to be petty if you didn’t know he’d turn up at the door a second later.

“nothing. i’m just almost home that’s all.” you’re lying and you know he can tell, he always could. he could pick up every slight, little change in your attitude like he seen right through you.

“oh yeah? nothing at all on your mind?” gojo drawls again, there’s a teasing lull to his voice and it makes your pout puff out even more before he breathes out a low chuckle and sighs. “and here i thought you were mad at me. you almost made me cry at work— who would take me seriously then, huh?”

“you’re not funny.” you huff out, short and a little clipped as you finally come to a stop infront of your apartment door — fiddling with your keys in your hand while your pout still rests on your features.

“you sure?”

you really can’t be bothered playing gojo’s games right now and as amusing as he seems to find himself, it’s only making you burn hotter — making your stomach twist with the lump in your throat that you’ve been fighting to keep down all day. you don’t want to get upset, but it meant a lot to you.

you just wanted him to maybe put in a little effort on the one day that you guys really get to celebrate eachother.

“positive. so i’m gonna g—“ you can barely finish your own spiralling, upsetting thoughts before your snapped response through your phone fades on your tongue. but suddenly, the tears youd been fighting to hold back all day seem to come so ruthlessly, gathering along your lashes as you gaze onto the ocean of red that greets you as you open the door.

you’re not sure how many bouquets there are waiting for you there. hundreds? thousands? sitting pretty along the floor, decorating the shared space so beautifully that you don’t even realise that you’ve gone quiet. ofcourse gojo would do something like this, and suddenly you feel a little silly for even doubting him.

“ah, fine. i guess i’ll get the guy to come pick all of those back up then, huh, sweet thing?”

but the smooth tone that sounds from your phone speaker sounds a little louder, closer when it’s accompanied by a long arm wrapping around your waist from behind as kisses are pressed up the side of your neck.

“but, you—“ you try but you feel so overwhelmed, so full of love as gojo’s large figure drapes over you from behind. his face is stuffed into the crook of your neck and you can feel the way his crooked smile sits on his features as it presses against your skin. he feels warm, although you’re sure he’s more than smug right now when he pulls away with an exaggerated gasp that cuts off your sentence.

“as if you’re perfect, good looking boyfriend would ever forget. what do you take me for, hm?” you giggle at that despite the way he’s teasing you again, squeezing at your sides until you’re meeting his gaze and you’re sure you must look so in love when you notice the way his features soften slightly.

“happy anniversary, princess.” gojo grins as he leans into kiss you breathless, twisting into your mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and you almost rock back with how dizzy he makes you feel. but his hands are on your hips, keeping you close against his chest with a stability that you’d always found in him.

another long press of his lips with yours and you whimper sweetly as he pulls away to look at you, pretty gaze glowing slightly from under the snowy peaks of his hair before he’s smirking again, maybe a little wider this time.

“you gonna laugh f’ me when i tell jokes again? i can feel the tears threatening to start again.” he’s like a professional when his cheeky grin twists into an exaggerated pout, making you laugh again— a little harder this time before you’re pinching at his cheeks playfully and bringing him in for another quick kiss.

“you’re such a dork.” you tease and gojo groans against your lips like he’s offended.

“mmm, no thank you? oh i’m hurt, sweet girl. what’ll i do with you now, hm?” the look he gives you as he pulls away is suspicious, a raised brow as his head falls to the side and he really looks like he’s considering it. until the next moment his large palm is coming down heavy on your ass before his next handful squeezes.

“satoru!” you squeal but that only seems to make him chuckle as he leans down to kiss you again, rougher this time despite the way you’re both smiling giddily into the shared, messy press of eachother. almost too quickly finding yourself pressed up against the wall in the hallway as he melts into you.

“let’s see! oh, i’ve got a few ideas.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: some awkward moments but nothing crazy.

part 1 - Part two!!! - part 3 - part 4

—————-

You indeed did not see John price the next morning but what you did see was a handwritten note stuck to the fridge beneath a magnet.

“Good morning, as I mentioned my job is demanding. I’m not sure how long I'll be gone for but I can estimate at least a month. If you need me, my phone number is below along with my check for this month's rent and the next. - John price”

You reach for the envelope that is attached behind the note and pull it open and what the fuck. You knew he had to have money but in what world would someone pay this much rent for a house with a roommate? You immediately grab your own checkbook and write him for the amount that’s overpaid, making a mental note to make sure you give it to him.

————

Weeks pass slowly and life goes on as it did before. The only difference is you're no longer struggling to make ends meet. So to celebrate your success you order that 6 foot canvas you’d been wanting for ages and a new oil paint.

When you got the notification that it had arrived, thank god for two day shipping, you squealed and ran to grab it before the mailman even walked away. He offered to help you as he watched you give it a bear hug and waddle it through your door yelling out a meek ‘no Thankyou’. You dragged it down the hallway and into the sunroom resting it up against the wall. Ripping the clear plastic film off of new canvases comes in third place to the best things in life.

Sitting in the sun that evening you stroke deep blue oil paints that try their best to replicate ocean waters, and white specks that wish they could induce the same feelings stars do.

You’ve been at this same painting for 3 weeks, coming home and straight to it. Now that it’s finally done it sits sunbathing till it dries. You still visit it and admire its larger than life beauty.

John’s been gone for 1 month and 3 weeks now and in that time some problems have arisen, 1. The faucet in the kitchen leaks and below it the pipe also leaks and the only plumber that’s willing to drive out to your house and inspect it says he won’t be available for another week which means the water bill will sky rocketing till then. And 2. you have no idea where the huge painting will go.

You walk around wondering where to place it. You thought maybe the living room, or even in your room but after testing both those places it still didn’t look right. You can only think of one other place which is the hallway to John’s room. Of course that spot is perfect, maybe he wouldn’t notice since he only spent one night here. You grabbed the drill and got to work mounting it immediately. Once all was said and done you gave it a once over, smiled, snapped a picture of it to send to your sister and walked away.

———

John arrived back exactly at the two month mark early in the AM. He opened the house door as quietly as possible and removed his boots by the door to avoid the creaking wood of the floor and continued sluggishly hauling his bag to his room. Being the man he is, he notices everything, those watchful eyes of his never miss a detail so he does indeed notice and take a second to admire the newly found painting hung in front of his bedroom door before unlocking it to set his stuff down.

After a much needed and appreciated shower he reads the clock at 7AM thinking he can sleep for a little, that is of course until he hears a knock at the door. Making his way down the hall he peeps through the window and sees a handyman?

“Good morning sir, how can I help you?” He says opening the door.

“Good morning, your wife called for a leaking pipe, told her I’d come by sometime today.” He looks down the hall towards your room and confirms the fact that you're definitely still very well asleep.

“My wife? Oh yes my wife, that lady I could’ve sworn I told her to cancel this appointment we actually got it all sorted out.” He lies like it's second nature.

“I actually charge a late cancellation fee that must be paid upfront.” He inquires slightly annoyed.

“How much?” John replies feeling sorry for this man that drove out here and is now being sent away.

“100$ flat.” John shuts the door and quickly fetches his wallet from the pocket of his cargo pants and returns with two bills one for the inconvenience and sends the man on his way.

Sleep can wait.

—————

You wake up to the sound of clanking in the kitchen and as a woman that technically lives alone in the middle of the forest you're terrified.

Grabbing the bat beside your bed still fully dressed in the least threatening attire, you tiptoe to the source of the noise and breathe out the strongest sigh of relief ever known to man.

“Jesus Christ John you scared me, what’re you doing?” You loudly admit startling him in return.

“Fixing this pipe that you called an overpriced handyman for.” You stare at him subconsciously admiring the way he looks, slightly disheveled, face screwed in concentration and strong hands twisting the wrench in his hand and let’s not mention the rise of his shirt.

“You okay?” He says removing himself from under the sink leaning back on his knees to stare up at you.

“Yeah, yes I’m so sorry, um so where did the handy man go?” He stands with a grunt and leans his back against the counter.

“On his merry way.” He replies, turning around to turn the faucet on checking if it leaks, then off to see if it still drips and as he expects, it does neither.

“How much do I owe you for the late cancellation fee?” That man has handled your plumbing issues before and you’ve definitely canceled late more than once.

“Technically you didn’t cancel on him, I did so don’t worry.” He says picking his tools up off the ground placing them messily into the tool box.

“Well Thank You.” You say awkwardly.

“Of course.” He smiles making the dimples beneath his beard awfully noticeable.

“Oh and by the way your rent is only two thousand five hundred a month.” You say walking to the kitchen drawer beside him and pulling out a check that’s already filled out and handing it to him.

“Utilities included?” He asks, grabbing the check written out for three thousand and also taking in notice that same scent that clung to those sheets you made his bed with weeks ago as you sweep by.

“Yeah I don’t mind paying more cause I mean look around, this place has my style written all over it which makes it feel more like mine than yours.” He looks baffled at your reasoning.

“I actually like the decorations, not sure I’d change a thing about it.” You laugh at what has to be a lie.

“I doubt it.” You chuckle and slightly blush at his kindness.

“No I'm serious, I especially love that painting in the hallway, where’d you get it?” You seem surprised at the mention of it and even more flattered at the compliment.

“I actually painted it.” He gives you a surprised look.

“See you’re even hand painting the art, please I can afford much more than twenty five hundred.” You act like you're considering it for a moment.

“As much as I’d appreciate it, I'm already grateful for what you pay.” You say truthfully.

“Also, welcome home.” You quip before turning around walking back towards your room to get ready for the day

—————

John’s been home for nearly two weeks now and he’s slightly growing on you and you on him. You co-exist in harmony most times. That doesn’t mean the two of you still don’t clash from time to time.

“Good morning.” He says scrambling eggs in a pan as you walk into the kitchen reaching in the cabinet for a coffee mug.

“Morning to you too.” You say groggily, setting your feet flat on the ground and placing the cup on the counter, reaching for the pot to pour some coffee.

“If I can just- oh I’m so sorry.” He says accidentally bumping into you making the coffee spill on the counter.

“Oh no don’t worry about it, I can just clean it.” You say turning around quickly to go grab paper towels and end up accidentally running into his chest.

He grabs your shoulders to hold you in place and let your brain catch up with the speed of events.

“We will learn to both be in the kitchen together someday.” You affirm with a laugh that makes you feel alive.

“Hey the first week this happened almost everyday. If anything this is a huge improvement.” He jokingly abides.

“True.” You say as he turns around handing you the kitchen towel to clean it up. He watches you with amused eyes and a smile that still hasn’t left either of your faces and for a second something alights in John something that scares him so bad he doesn’t hear a thing you’re saying.

“John, I said did you sleep well?” You speak a bit louder, snapping him out of it.

“Yeah darling sorry I’m just going to take this to my office. I've got some work to cover.” He says hurriedly plating his food and scurrying off.

“Okay well I’ll be heading to work soon.” He doesn’t even let you finish before closing the door leaving you to stand there a little stumped.

“So I’ll assume he didn’t sleep well.” You say to yourself before pouring another cup and heading to your room to get changed.

——————

Comments and reposts are appreciated <3

@beebeechaos

@ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword

@quakeroaksguy

@waves-against-a-cliff

@depressed-but-make-it-cute

#captain price x female reader #john price #angst #barry sloane #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141 #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod x reader

[haikyuuhoo]

tired eyes

pairing: gojo x reader

wc: 790

warnings: light angst, minor manga spoilers

a/n: tagging @shotorus in this bc sel your sleepy gojo thoughts made me unable to stop thinking about this idea I've wanted to write. I know this is so different to the vibes of what you were talking about but I figured you deserved the tag since this lil drabble finally made its way out of my head bc of you <3 (pls don't feel like you need to read this I'm nervy just tagging you lol)

Gojo’s keys clang loudly against the bowl on the table in the entryway, and he has half a mind to cringe at the noise, seeing as it’s so late and you’re probably asleep by now. He unzips his jacket as he drags his feet in the direction of the bedroom, heaving out a sigh and finally letting his shoulders relax a little, letting some of the tension he’s been harboring for days leave his body. He's so tired that he feels like he could fall asleep in his clothes without even crawling beneath the duvet, though he knows he should at least shower first. But that's all forgotten when he steps into the warm glow spilling into the hallway from the light on your nightstand, and he hesitates for a moment when he notices that you're not asleep—in fact, you're very much awake, like you've been waiting for him.

Your gaze darts up when you see the figure in the doorway, a smile immediately lighting up your face. “You’re home,” you say as you set aside the book you were reading and pull your headphones off.

Gojo raises an eyebrow, making his way to the edge of the bed where you rise onto your knees to meet him. “You’re still up?”

And you nod, shrugging one shoulder slightly as you bring your hands up to cup his face. “Of course. Can’t really sleep well when I’m waiting for you to come back from a mission, ya know?” You say it so casually, but it makes him frown knowing you’re referring to the nineteen agonizing days he was gone from you. You lean in to close the distance between you two, pressing your lips to his in a hungry kiss that has him grasping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

“Well, as much as I wish you wouldn’t stay up just for me, I’m glad you did,” he murmurs into your mouth.

“Mmm,” is all you hum in response, pushing your fingertips underneath his blindfold. And then you kiss his nose, then his forehead, and then briefly his lips again.

And those lips fall into probably the prettiest pout you’ve ever seen. “You gonna take it off?” he asks, his voice low, and normally the tone would have you moving quickly to take everything off of him, but not tonight. Tonight, his voice is low with exhaustion, and you'd noticed the way it seemed to seep into his bones the moment he entered the room.

“No,” you say softly, and he nearly whines, “you’re tired. Your eyes—” You gently let your fingertips smooth across his eyelids over the blindfold “—I’m sure they need the rest.”

Gojo had a penchant for coming home with migraines after missions, all that time with his blindfold off to help him fight draining him and making his eyes even more sensitive than normal, and you’re sure tonight is no different.

“But I want to see you.”

The corner of your mouth tilts up. “I may not know exactly how your technique works, Satoru, but I know you can see me.”

And this time he does whine, squeezing your waist and pressing his forehead against yours. “You know it’s not the same. I wanna see you.”

You hum, stringing him along like you’re thinking about it and toying with the edge of the black fabric. “Okay,” you finally say, “just a peek, yeah?” Before he even has a chance to respond you're lifting it off and dropping it to the side. His hair falls around his face, messier than it normally is, and you gently brush it back.

Gojo blinks a couple of times to adjust his eyes to the light, and your chest tightens at the sleepy smile he gives you, at the way his eyes seem dimmer than usual. “Hi,” he whispers.

And you’re suddenly overcome with a wave of emotion that has you blinking back tears. “Hi.” You cup his face again, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. “I missed you.”

He flashes you a grin. “Aww, no need to miss me too much, you know I can’t stay away from you.”

And you both know it’s his attempt to lighten the mood, to pretend that someday there's going to be a time when you’re not waiting up for him, when you can be at peace despite knowing his responsibilities will always take him away for days at a time, when he's not carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders—when there's not a very real possibility that someday he may not come home to you.

So you decide that today you two will pretend, and you let your tears fall, giving him a wobbly smile. “I know.”

reblogs & comments always appreciated <3

#gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo angst #gojo x reader angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk <3 #gojo <3 #my writing <3