#i should not be allowed to decorate inside my own home

[lordgroose]

my favorite work memory from this store will always be “hey remember when the subway inside the store closed down and they let me take a bunch of their shit for free and now it lives inside my house?”

my life is a joke

#mine #subway #eat fresh #sbubby #retail #i should not be allowed to decorate inside my own home #i just think they're neat #fast food #kitsch

[sweet-as-an-angel]

A Gift for Simon

Warnings: No Thoughts – Only Fluff, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Imagine you go up to Simon and you present him with an Altoid tin wallet. “I remember you saying your wallet broke the other day, so I thought maybe you could use this one until you got a new one :-).”

And you pass him a tiny little tin that, initially, leaves Simon both curious and confused. When he opens it, however, his breath catches in his throat, his heart stutters.

It’s perfectly furnished inside, tailored to his exact tastes based on morsels of information you’ve either discovered by accident or Simon has told you. You’ve made a little velvet pocket in the lid, the material Simon’s favourite colour, “So you can put your emergency money in there. I always put my coins in mine in case I need to get the bus home or buy some milk,” you tell him.

The idea of you doing something so domestic and, in some vein, humble, only endears you more to Simon. He should be taking you places; you shouldn’t be using your own money when you have him.

He says none of this, of course.

The other half is decorated with a quote cut out from his favourite book, stuck behind a fresh tube of chapstick and an elasticated hoop for him to put his house key in.

He wonders if you know his lips are chapped, whether you’ve looked at them as often as he finds himself watching yours whenever you accost him, privilege him with your time.

Regardless of how close the two of you are, whether you’re just acquainted neighbours or the closest of lovers, all Simon wants to do is wrap his arms around you and hold you as tight as you’ll allow. He wants to keep you all to himself, keep your kindness all for him, selfish in his endeavour to hide it from everyone else.

He knows it will be his undoing — this act of generosity you have bestowed unto him. But he can’t bring himself to fault it, even down to the idea that perhaps you expect something back from him. He’ll gladly give you anything you want if only you ask.

But you didn’t. You just smiled, bade him goodbye, and left to go about your day.

Not that you’d notice, but Simon held off on getting a new wallet for some time after that. Whenever you asked him, he’d tell you it slipped his mind, that the wallet you gave him is doing a good job anyway. Why put all the time you spent on it to waste, he thinks. And one day, he hopes he can say it, tell you to your face how his heart flurries, stutters whenever his fingers brush over that tiny tin wallet, whenever he holds it, Thumbelina in his behemoth hands. He feels your fingers there, painstaking piecing together a dream into this physical form, gossamer in its beauty, perishable in its disposition. Warm, warmth like he’s never known, and care. It’s visceral, palpable, and Simon holds it in his hand and never lets go. Not so long as he has breath in his body.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad Tumblr Backup Account

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost #ghost x reader #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #ghost riley #cod headcanons #call of duty x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #cod mw2 ghost

[comfortless]

The way you write König makes me cry and dry heave cuz you balance his loser unhingeness and his heartbreaking tenderness is✨ ART✨

Now I feel like you would be able to EAT this prompt up but imagine König as Frankenstein’s creature that is this big ass hulking mass of body that immediately makes the town grab their pitchforks but he can DESTROY them in seconds. But inside he is just a little guy who just wants somebody to hold and love (and other activities if ya know what I mean

Keep doing what you do❤️

A Place For Us

Frankenstein’s creature! König x fem! horologist reader

content/warnings: 18+. minors do not interact. discrepancies!, reader is implied to have anxiety, angst & fluff, non-malicious stalking?, loner/loner dynamic my beloved.., brief mentions of previous murders and religious imagery, codependency, smut; masturbation, unprotected piv.

notes: receiving this ask was so funny to me because @melancholic-thing and i have been bouncing this idea around forever (i simply could not have brought this any justice without ghost’s input— if you see this please know that ily dearly). thank you, anon for your kind words and finally giving me the push that i needed to write it! 💘

wc: 10.6k

You’re good at fixing broken things; tinkering with them with a set of well-polished tools until they begin to tick, or chime, or cuckoo.

Some take longer than an afternoon sat before the wooden desk, weeks or months— a year, once. Oiled parts and small cogs, the three arms that jerk and glide over a face riddled with numbers that all lull you into feeling that your work is not just some monotonous service only the rich buzzards could afford, but as if you were a healer of sorts; a little cleric stationed to bring life into whichever jagged, broken thing has been dropped or kicked at her doorstep.

This one, however… you’re convinced it’s as good as dead.

No matter how many times you take apart the little, gray pocket watch, the arms refuse to move. Its ticking sounds less like that of the beating of the heart and more like the grinding of dry teeth, a corpse begging, pleading to let this attempted resurrection come to an end.

Your tweezers wrench the face free, and all at once it proves too much— bending and warping beneath the metal grip until it cracks, a split right through it, down to its very center.

“How…” Your voice fills the void of ticking, pseudo-silence surrounding you. A word slipped out in frustration and unknowing before you finally toss the wretched little thing onto the desk with a clatter and step aside.

The house is as dark and brooding as always, too large for a woman on her own and a workshop that hardly counts as a proper business. Shelves of broken clocks serve as decor where potted plants and well-loved photographs should sit in their stead. Books of study for modern devices such as these in place of the poetry and worn love letters other women seemed to have in abundance.

This place was starved out of light, even with the flickering glow of candles and the electric humming of the unnatural yellow one above.

The sun is no stranger, either, your curtains neatly pulled aside to allow for it to filter through like an invited guest. Only it doesn’t, not on such a melancholic gray day.

You need a walk, a distraction, or this hungry home would be certain to rip away your work from the shelves and swallow you whole instead.

Isn’t it such a tragedy that, someone who pours her creativity and all of her love into time, all she seems to do is waste it?, the gaudy wallpaper seems to taunt, all the colors of filthy maroon and darkened blue flowers seeming to make it feel more imposing and less of a comfort.

Your hand curls around the handle of your umbrella, a sturdy thing, but just as drab as the rest of the home. Then, the package you’ve been putting off delivering to the elderly woman in town. Best to get it done with now, maybe upon your return the hands that fix could do so once again.

Shame about the clock face though. You would certainly have to patch together another and pray the pocket watch’s owner wouldn’t notice.

The wind is not what you had anticipated.

Outside is different. The howling of it past the windows and shuddering through the attic felt perfectly at home in your shoddy little house, but as the door swings shut behind you, it feels entirely alive. Cold and bitter and angry— the things you keep repressed that nature lacks the tact to.

The trees bend and sway from its invisible yet incessant pushing. The hand containing the package falls down to the lap of your skirt to keep it from flying up just as your other clutches the umbrella ever tighter to keep it from billowing out into the air to be left discarded miles away.

It isn’t a short walk to town, but with the wind and the drizzling rain, it almost seems as though you’re in more tender company than the lumber and the ticking clocks.

The path through the forest is overgrown as always, branches are pushed aside and your skirt is lifted to avoid burrs and thorns.

You should have had the sense to bring along a coat, because when the thunder does strike up and the rain finally begins to fall in heavy, hurried drops, you find yourself shivering terribly with the package guarded against your chest.

Lamplight would have done well, too.

You would have almost happily allowed yourself to toss aside the umbrella and be battered by the rain if you could only see. The forest is dark on days like this, with the canopy of thick branches and their dense leaves blocking out any sliver of light cast down from overhead.

It’s only by sheer luck that you don’t manage to trip, toss your delivery into the shadow of a tree and lose it entirely before you do make it out. When the trees finally part to the barren hill overlooking town you breathe a sigh of relief, a quiet thanks for the grayed light above.

Your steps are hurried as you make your way through the quiet town. The shop windows are all lit aglow with the silhouettes of people inside, strangely dancing like shadows through a fog. A place you can not be, can not touch.

The stares the townsfolk give you make your skin crawl, as though they are so close to being what you are but not, only tied down to your world when they think themselves lofty. Their eyes always seem to question, scrape under your skin with sharpened arms, ticking and flaying, always asking: Why?

You face forward as your skin begins to prickle, not from the wet or the chill but a subdued sort of fear that nestles burning into your chest, sets your heart rushing like a rabbit.

The streets are silent enough, a small blessing; any passing strangers are hurriedly skittering through the rain and muck to hide away in their homes, children ushered with a hand to their back by flustered looking mothers, complaining in hushed voices about the rain. You only smile at them and step aside when your paths cross.

They never smile for you.

It’s why the broken clocks are delivered to your doorstep rather than brought inside, addresses and names from muffled voices calling out beyond your thick wooden door, coins and bills pushed through the mail slot to lie cold on the welcome mat. The bell above the door never chimes, and you only make your deliveries on days like this, when the rain or the dark blanket you up to keep you safe and eternally somber.

You leave the package on the doorstep, covered from the rain by a small, vermillion awning. One sharp knock is given and you’re back on your way, back to the old house, to the simplicity of the ticking, the comfort of the old cobweb on the vaulted ceiling and the drab gray of the bleakness.

There are puddles now, glistening with any light they can suck into their depths, threatening and taunting as the dull stares and that rickety old desk you really should fix. You think for a moment, that perhaps no one would even notice if one of those dark pits of rain water pulled you in entirely, only to splash through it with ease, dirtying the ends of your skirt.

The rain lessens when you crest the hill, the forest less a tangle of clattering limbs and now only a gentle sway reaches the tops of the trees, light filtering through them, as if to guide you on your way. It doesn’t lessen the bushels of thorns, the tree limbs downed and scattered over the path. In some small blessing, you’re able to scramble over them without having to plan a visit to a tailor to repair a ripped gown; scrubbing the mud from it would surely be tedious enough.

The droplets splatter against the dirt and fallen leaves in hushed bursts, the forest alive as always with the cooing of nesting birds in spite of the rain. The only thing that seems out of place is a sudden, soft thud, the snap of a branch underfoot. Just one footfall, and things return to a placid state amidst the sky’s tears.

You raise your head to glimpse in the direction, gaze sweeping over the figure of a man some paces off to your left. Beneath the shadow of a broad, twisting pine layered in thick branches, his details are mostly obscured, a thin trail of silver light only casting aglow the glimpse of a blue eye.

He’s only large enough to notice, shoulders slumped and chest rapidly rising to fall like a frightened animal; as his silhouette shifts just so you even consider that he’s shivering.

There’s something in that stare of somber blue that splinters at the wall of discomfort; it is not accusing, not bitter, worn and cold. Curious. Something akin to your own.

Damn your sweetness, your inability to simply let things be even as that ache twists around in your chest, clawing at a cage of bone and hissing that you keep silent. Be on your way. Don’t look back.

Instead, you extend your umbrella outward, toward him.

“Awful rain, hm?,” you chime.

The figure visibly tenses, seems to shrink into himself for a moment before straightening and giving one solemn nod.

“You can take my umbrella. I’m almost home, anyway.”

That seems to spark something, not much, but the stranger does take a step forward. Your eyes catch on the wet, matted hair clinging to his head, cascading down to shroud a face you still can’t quite make out.

The poor thing stirs something in you, a deep sympathy that clouds even the judgment of that flighty, skittish thing resting deep inside.

Even from such a distance it’s clear that he’s been neglected, likely cast off by the town even less favorably than you have. His scent carries on the breeze, like dirt and wood and misery.

You extend the umbrella again before realizing he won’t come any closer with you being there. So, you lower it to the ground, avoiding the mud as best you could and leave it. If he took it, fine. If not, you travel this path so often it would be collected in time.

The figure mutters something as you rise, a low string of foreign words that you can only interpret as being spoken out of surprise, perhaps even gratitude.

You smile toward him as you wipe fat, slithering raindrops from your brow.

“You don’t want to catch a fever.”

With that, you’re back on your way, thoughts of the rugged stranger weigh heavy on your mind as the roof of your home comes into view, stilted and in the same drab navy as the flowers on the wallpaper.

You could have done more. It had been instilled into you to not to open the door for someone you did not quite know, yet a part of you longed to take care of something not simply fed by oil, something only capable of telling you how much time you’ve sat alone as thanks.

Surely it was best not to let it distract you.

This was good enough.

The key is produced, the door opened, and just like the many times before that you have forced yourself from this place, the house seems less unsettling upon your return.

As what little daylight remains fades away into night, you find yourself seated, toying with the old pocket watch once more. It’s the only one that doesn’t make a lick of sense, a puzzle that can not be solved. For all the polished parts and meticulous tinkering, it still won’t work properly.

It grates and growls as though rusted, the cogs shifting inside with each movement of the arms are well-polished yet seem to do little but hiss and spit.

This is the fourth time you have taken it apart only to put it back together with no improvement.

There was little to be known about the man who owned it, some pompous, arrogant creature that you had only seen in passing. He had turned his nose up to you, you were sure of that, only to deliver this dying thing to your door the following day.

Your work had always been compared to your father’s. Though you possessed a similarity in skill, you were not what the townsfolk had deemed to be respectable. An unwed lady out on her own, biding her time repairing what they had broken rather than feeding hungry mouths delivered from her very womb, how terribly scandalous.

The pocket watch is set aside as you busy yourself tailoring a small sheet of metal for it. The graduations are carved in with a sharp razor, impeccably angled. Then, the Roman numerals, just before it’s slotted back into place.

The likeness to the former face is nearly uncanny, it’s only sturdier and less susceptible to ripping from the mere touch of tweezers. The rust s gone from the casing, and at long last— it ticks; no grinding growl as the second hand begins its revolution. The fickle thing just needed a touch up, you supposed as you flick off the desk lamp and rise to your feet.

The curtains are drawn as they always were when you step into the bedroom. The muddy dress is finally peeled away as you change and slink into the covers, and just for a moment, you almost think that you feel the animal between your breasts begin to settle too.

———

There’s a letter stuffed into the mail slot: crumpled with no postage stamp, scrawled across some scrap of paper that surely was plucked from a garbage bin.

You marvel at the lack of care for a moment before your fingers do find themselves pawing at it, unfurling the worn edges to find the words: Thank you.

Written in thick black ink, there’s a clumsiness to it, the dance of a quivering hand holding pen. You think back to the elderly woman you had made that delivery to only yesterday; had she trudged through the mud and muck just to bring you this?

Her thanks was only needed in the blessing of payment, and she had already generously done just that when she left her little humming wall clock at the door.

You flip the note over, inspecting it carefully. There’s a line there, too, hastily scratched out in the same black ink, the lines crossing and digging leaving little pinprick holes in the paper.

Holding it to the light, you can just barely make out the words: I have been alone.

Your mouth dries at the sentiment, tongue flicking out to try and force a wetness to your lips. The animal begins its keening howl, a chain rattling as claws sink into your innards; the very same agitated fear that starved you out of comfort day in and out.

The man in the forest, perhaps. You were sure that you would have remembered seeing someone so disheveled and tall about town, and if not for a certainty that he had not followed you home, you would have assumed it was him. Gratitude finally said, and well on his way to someplace else.

There’s nothing here for him or anyone else, surely he could see that. Even you could.

The walls around you seem to bulge, the room shrinking once again as every little thing held within begins to taunt and yowl. Safety was only a temporary luxury, it always has been.

The letter is discarded onto a table, as you opt to hazard a peek out of your curtains instead. The gray from yesterday remains as thick clouds crowd above, threatening another storm. The treetops and tall grass dance in the breeze, freeing leaves and breaking flower stems. There’s no one standing there to greet you, to explain themselves for the strange message that they had left.

The town had probably already driven you to madness, picturing things that were not there while old fools jab you with ominous letters and jeering stares to see just how long it would take to watch you fall apart.

Another delivery day it would be, then; best to get it out of the way before the rain begins to fall.

Maybe you could even retrieve the umbrella along the path, discarded, battered from the rain and likely unused.

You don’t bother packaging the pocket watch, choosing to hastily stuff it into the pocket of your coat instead. Courtesies be damned. Tea and a warm bath would do well when the house was sated by your absence, when you were finally given time to breathe.

In your haste, you nearly kick over what’s been left on the uppermost stair leading to your door.

You find a table clock covered in a thick black fabric, a little note attached to it giving the owner’s name and address, and a small bag containing payment.

It’s all securely placed inside, next to the ugly letter on the table.

Your umbrella doesn’t wait on the path, but you’ve hardly the mind to care. Your hand tightens around the pocket watch as you cord your way down the path and back into town, rushing amidst the foliage until the sounds of your footfalls are dulled by the street.

Reaching the house, a towering narrow building that smells like tobacco even from outside, your hand curls to knock at the door in the same breath taken as the chain is plucked to place it on the knob, intent on scurrying away immediately to avoid the disgusted gaze of the man that waits inside.

You don’t quite make it far enough before the door swings open and you’re greeted by a round face, nose upturned and lip curled into a sneer.

That isn’t imagination.

There’s a genuine hate in this man, seeping down into his bones that makes him almost seem to reek like sulfur through the cloud of cigarette smoke that wafts around him. It’s the face of someone who would love nothing more than to see your own damnation, watch the earth suck you in until your wails fall silent and a fire roars upward in your wake.

“This isn’t my watch, dear.”

“Parts needed to be replaced,” you explain, voice tight and keening like a wolf in a trap, “I assure you that I—“

“It’s shoddy work. Any clocksmith up north would have done better for half the price..”

It goes on like this for what feels like at minimum thirty revolutions, but it must have only been five or so. His droning voice makes it hard to keep track, buzzing as he examines your work, hours wasted upon aiding such an awful creature.

He only seems to grow bored of his chiding when you fall to silence. He wants a reaction, not a wide-eyed fretful stare and pursed lips caging in any sound that may bubble up from your throat.

In one final act of detestation, the watch is tossed to the ground, stomped in repetition until the hands snap, the ticking quiets, and you see months of your work brought to ruin in a mere seven seconds.

He storms back inside and slams the door shut as you stoop to collect the little, broken thing, cradling it in your palms. Maybe it wouldn’t be fixed again, but you’ve hardly the mind to let anything be left abandoned like this.

Though the anger builds, white bitter smoke billowing through your veins, it remains tucked away inside eventually communing with the animal, all but entirely snuffed out when your steps lead you to the front door of the house.

The window to the right is open, not broken. The curtains were pushed aside as though to allow a breeze to enter. A muddy footprint, vast and long scales the siding, but there’s no exiting one to join it.

You stare and listen, taking one quiet step towards the open window to strain your hearing. Nothing. Inside, it’s quiet, only the sound of the breeze rattling that note left on the table, the ticking and the familiar creaks and groans of the house settling.

So, you enter.

With the poker from the hearth in tow, the rooms are investigated one by one. Each and every one of them clear of any intruder. Even the attic, for all of it’s imagined ghosts sits empty, stale and silent. There’s no one here, nothing out of place or broken that hadn’t already been cast out from the world and delivered into your hands.

Strangely enough, it’s more peaceful like this; the leaves could be heard rustling outside, birds calling, even the chirps and strumming of crickets too late to flee the onset of chill seeping through this purgatory, filling the mundane void with sounds of life and peace.

You leave the window open.

The pocket watch is left on the desk, the kettle filled with water and placed upon the stove to heat, all before your eyes trail over to that little table beside the front door.

The only thing amiss is there, your intuition roars at you: “Look, look. Just look.”

The table clock from this morning sits there, the wood casing dusty and the hands perpetually stuck to sit at six o’clock, easy to enough to break, and easier still to fix. An overworked battery and a little oil would be its saving grace; if only things could be so simple for yourself, for the thousand or so others that surely must feel the same— clawed, fretful little rabbits.

Your eyes narrow momentarily, vaguely recalling that the damned thing had been covered when it was dragged inside. Something sable and thick, a scrap of a heavy dress shirt perhaps, verily stained. Odd that someone would have broken in merely to steal something so useless, but stranger tales have been told. For all you cared, the perpetrator could keep it.

You entertain the idea of the wild man in the trees, thick and sturdy as one. Perhaps he left the note, stole warmth from your home and found comfort in that useless old shirt after leaving that roughly scrawled note. Though the idea would horrify others, it only sets your ceaselessly racing pulse at ease.

Toying with the idea that someone so very much like you lurks the hills, found a home in your eyes and paid a visit, kind enough to wait until you were in town as to not scare you… and the kettle begins to whistle.

———

You had forgotten to close the window last night. Or maybe it was left as an invitation, a silent offer of your companionship for the unknown thing that occupies your already haunted mind these days. Something in your subconscious dared you to simply forget, see what happens, and you’re not entirely disappointed to find out that yes, something has happened.

There are three flowers laid out there in a row, smushed by the weight of a heavy palm: a daffodil left golden and proud despite the way her petals fray and wither, and two others wild and unnamed with blue and white colors leading to vibrant green stems. And roots. He hadn’t the time to pluck them proper, nor had a sense of gentleness to his touch in doing so.

It’s the first time you’ve laughed in months, a giggling that makes your chest ache from a sudden mirth through all of this wretchedness. Who knew it would only take three flowers and the appearance of someone so disconnected? You take them and place them in a vase in the same spot, careful to add just the right amount of water to keep them living for a time.

Someone brought you flowers— actually brought you a gift, not a job. You remember those eyes, too. His hands may not have been gentle, but that look was.

Though darkness still creeps internally, you’re resolute in what you must do when you prepare for the day. You’ve never really worn this dress— a soft, white thing with billowing sleeves and tight cuffs that brings a swell to your breasts and cinches your waist. One of the women about town had given it to you in lieu of payment for repairing her husband's watch, left a note prattling onward for three pages about how a woman should dress to find a man. Three!

You’ll find him, thank him for the flowers, bat your eyelashes just a little and retrieve your umbrella. That’s all. The rain would be back, more deliveries would have to be made, and if you could manage a friend from all of this well… surely things could work out for you, just this once.

Your steps are less hurried and more tentative this time around. You don’t barrel through the woods like a galloping mare, mindful of your dress as you lift the fabric at the hips to avoid thick, slickened mire. There isn’t much to do about the thorns nipping at your ankles, leaving little scratches like cat’s claws in their wake.

The thought that maybe this was a ridiculous idea only settles in your mind after an hour of searching. You don’t even have a name to call him by, not an idea on just where he may be or what his intentions truly were, all further punctuated by the fact that you’ve found yourself in the midst of a wild orchard, the yellowing grass nearly reaching your knees as you reluctantly allow your dress to flow free. Thick clusters of apples hang above your head, each nearly ripe, some even fallen to leave a fragrant sweet smell in the wake of their rot.

Thunder roars above, distant but loud, cruelly threatening the wake of a downpour that would so easily sully the delicate thing you wear. Your chest aches from exertion, from whichever horrid fear it's settled on today, and you’re nearly fully convinced of your own madness when something does finally catch your eye.

There’s a cabin, nestled between the trees, old and lacking glass panes for the windows. The roof is covered in moss, walls creeping with the old green of vines and nearly hidden away entirely by the tall grass that rises above its face.

You could wait out the storm in the dark there, rethink your steps until you find a way back home and the prospect of actually entering a building that wasn’t the very picture of your own agony stirs something within you.

You don’t bother to knock, only waltz right in and let the door shut softly behind you. It creaks as it goes, whining from the rust laden over its hinges. As expected, the cabin is mostly barren; a set of dust laden chairs sits on opposite ends of a table missing a leg, a large bookshelf housing only a torn copy of Paradise Lost and a journal, a few dirtied dishes are left on the floor, and in the corner…

There are a lot of things that make you feel small.

You couldn’t live up to your father’s name in town. The thought that you were not an equal to the other ladies with their fine jewelry and dresses, rings wrapped around their fingers, that was a sore spot despite the way you refused to admit to it. Even the hounds lurking about the butcher’s shop on lonely night deliveries, baying and growling when your feet carried you too close.

None of those things could even compare to how you felt now.

The rug he lies beneath is large on its own, but your flower-giving, grateful titan seems even more so. It’s as though walking into a bear’s den and expecting a mere squirrel. Even curled into himself in sleep, he seems impossibly huge.

You couldn’t see much of him that first night, but now… where the rags that make up his clothes reveal a series of long scars along his legs, the hairy arms that seem far too thick: all of him, all of him is massive.

Your rabbit heart does not claw or fight you now, it only flutters, placated by the sight of something so… was there really a word for it? The idea that someone so imposing could strike the match of attraction within you. Feelings were strange, each comes sharp and new like the deliberate twist of a knife through a body, soft like warm bread.

You smile as you wander to his side, recognizing the cloth he wears over his head immediately as the one stolen from your house. Your dress is smoothed at your rear as you lower yourself to sit on your knees at his side, quiet and slow.

“Hello,” you whisper, placing a hand on a shoulder that dwarfs it entirely, feeling the bulge of muscle beneath the ripped shirt, the ridge of keloid scars from deep cuts laid into his skin.

The titan’s eyelids flutter for a moment as he begins to stir, staring up at the ceiling, teetering on the edge between waking and dreaming. Then, those cold blue eyes lock onto you. A flash of disbelief crosses them, just for a moment before something flips and from the holes ripped into that makeshift hood you see an expression that seems almost agonized.

“Hello,” he rasps after a long moment, shifting onto his side to prop himself up and raise his head to level with your own.

His breathing is shallow, almost panicked and you finally think to bring your hands to your lap instead, avoid touching him and potentially startling the poor man further.

“I wanted to thank you… for the flowers. They’re beautiful.” You pause as you study what little of his expression you can make out through the mask, the way his eyes crinkle at the corners only giving a glimpse of a smile. All teeth, probably, an excited one that even the imagination of warms your heart. “I put them in a vase. I didn’t want them to die.”

“I should not have…” His voice is softer than you ever imagined that it could be, well-spoken as the words are pulled from his throat. You find yourself transfixed, almost, praying that he continues if only to hear the delicate strumming of his tone, the soft sigh of breath that leaves him afterward.

“Es tut mir leid.”

The apology is followed by a low sweep of his gaze, slowly crawling from the peek of your cleavage to your hips to rest where your hands lay clasped in your lap.

He hardly seems to know what to do with himself, what to say, and all at once the realization dawns on you that no, he isn’t merely paying his thanks and seeking conversation. Perhaps that was part of it then, but now… he seems almost entranced.

You recognize those looks, from men in passing when they leered, but from him… from this weary, haunted stranger. It only seems a silent sort of reverence; as though longing for something he’s been deprived of.

“No, it’s fine, it made me happy.”

“Happy?”

“Yes, it was sweet.”

He falls silent at that, conflicted if the pinch of his brow were anything to go by. Then, sudden, he takes your wrist and jerks your hand toward his face, thumb brushing over the small calluses over each pad of your fingers. There’s dirt beneath his fingernails, even more scaring along those massive hands and you shiver. It’s not fear it’s… something akin to it, opposite by the way it dances and writhes in warmth rather than the cold.

“You have the hands of a maker.”

Strange, sweet Goliath.

His words are spoken somberly, as if there is more to say that he holds back. A part of you warns that you’re not prepared for it anyhow, so you let him continue that motion, brushing over your palm with a featherlight touch until it begins to tickle.

Your giggle prompts him to raise his head, watery eyes threatening tears when he hears that sweet sound bubble up from within you. His hand curls over your own, trapping you in his grasp as though little else matters to him more than the need to touch you in some way.

“You have kind eyes.”

“I am not kind.”

You shake your head at that, flicking your thumb across the top of his burly hand, marveling at the smooth skin of his scars and the rough texture of the hair that dots his knuckles.

“You’re sweet to me, and that’s all that matters.”

It could have been a mistake, how easily you’ve taken to this bizarre titan. Any lady with proper regard for her standing and womanhood assuredly wouldn’t have said something like that to a beast that has the stature and the scent of something wild.

Still, the words leave your lips far too quickly to draw back; he responds with an urgency.

You find yourself pulled ever closer by the iron grip on your hand, tugged into the rug-turned-mattress by this man as he cages you in to meld against his chest. He’s everywhere, warm and burning against the chill of your skin with flesh touched by hellfire.

You only sigh pitifully when his arm wraps around your waist. When was the last time you had even felt an embrace? You couldn’t recall, and even if you had, it would have paled in comparison to one such as this. You breathe him in like a summer’s breeze, tasting a hint of the apple orchard beyond on your tongue when you open your mouth to speak once again.

“See..?”

The tension in his muscles seems to melt away; if your heart is like a hare then surely his must be more akin to a bull. It takes some time before he softens entirely against you, despite his initiation. His breath is almost a pant when his hand trails upward along your back, feeling every ridge and dip and curve, breath catching in wonder as you allow it.

“You are soft like…”

His head dips to press into your shoulder, breathing you in, humming his approval at the mingling scent of clock oil and tea leaves that lingers on your skin. Even from beneath the hood, you can feel the way his lips brush over you, his mouth parted in a voiceless plea.

“… like one of the flowers.”

It’s almost torture really, how someone could be so comforting, so endearing.

His hand trails further, drifting over the backside of your dress to curl against your thigh threatening something if you don’t conjure the sense to stop him. It stokes the fire within you, glowing ember in place of a brain, it seemed. You feel weak, lost in a foreign touch and sweet, clumsily spoken words.

If the townsfolk could see you now, herded up in this stranger’s arms, surely they wouldn’t dare to cast any disapproval your way. Not one of those meek little devils would have a word to say… not now or ever again.

“You’re like… a tree then,” you whisper as you finally will yourself to twist away from the grip, already mourning the loss of warmth as a cold wind filters through the openings in the cabin.

He doesn’t sulk as you pull away, only seems content to have been blessed with that much. That mist remains in his eyes before they shut again, willing himself to rise to sit up just as you do.

“Will you stay?”

You glance over the cabin again, with all of its dust and cobwebs. Your umbrella sits in the corner, propped upright with its handle leant against the wall, out of place amidst the dilapidation prevalent here.

This wasn’t a home at all, just a quiet, cold purgatory. Though the halls of your own may mock your solitude, this place seems to echo his very being: alone, broken, rotting and so, so very cold.

Your heart bleeds as you weigh your options, expression growing sullen and torn. He notices, tentatively takes your hand again in an almost practiced way of providing comfort. Had he ever even…

Your thoughts begin to drift again, and you force yourself to settle on a choice. It’s not your heart that should be damned, but that horrid seed of doubt constantly burdening, stealing from, and clawing at you.

“I should get home, before the rain.”

“Verstanden.”

“You can come too.”

There’s an audible hiss of breath through his teeth, that peculiar look of agony crosses his face again… and finally, he weeps.

———

König, you think to call him.

He teaches you German from time to time, in turn for you allowing him to watch as you work away at the clocks. It feels fitting in a way. Not because he harbors the self-importance of a noble figure, nor his stature; he’s simply become something impossibly important in the week long span you’ve spent together now.

You’ve decorated the guest room properly for him, and in turn he’s brought you firewood, foraged and hunted so that neither of you have had to bother with the town. The fire raged in the hearth as the cold continues to set in, and your walks to town have been enjoyable now. He accompanies you to the hill on some nights, draws you a bath when you come home, even cooks.

So… maybe a king was not entirely appropriate, but calling him a servant certainly wasn’t either. Even with the way he seems to melt and become docile at the slightest brush of your hand, the way you know with a certainty he would die for you if you spoke the word.

And still, you call him König: the king of your heart.

There are flowers at your windowsill each morning, still clinging to their roots. You bake the bread while he cooks stew with herbs gathered from the little garden just beyond the walls of the home, one he’s graciously told you he’s wanted to expand for you. Books you’ve overlooked for years have been read end to end by him, and he especially seems to like those with art of flowers drawn into their pages, always seeking you out to show you, explain their meanings, expressing the beauty that he sees in them and within you.

You don’t know where he’s come from, what his life was like before this, and with the same respect that he gives to you… you don’t ask.

“We’re starting a new story,” you had said the first morning over a breakfast of hastily made apple dumplings. To which he had agreed, with a somber hum, nodding his hooded head.

Though you do wonder about his secrets, his face. Seeing him now is all it really takes to make you smile.

He comes through the door, hauling in the massive grandfather clock that a carriage had left only this morning. The bob and the lyre both appeared broken at a glance, but your heart sinks when you read the name on the note left attached to it.

The same petulant little man that had stomped that poor watch to pieces right in front of you, no doubt he had broken this one too in some sort of tantrum. What was it now? Had the poor clock chimes a bit too loudly during the night? Was that deserving of a foot lodged right into its heart?

“König, do you mind just leaving it there?” You gesture toward the middle of the room, watching as the muscles beneath his shirt don’t even seem to ripple from exertion.

“Natürlich.”

As you set to work, pulling away parts, straightening out bends and replacing what’s broken, he kneels at your side watching with rapt attention. There’s no fixing the pendulum bob entirely, it’s far too bent and scraped, but you wouldn’t be replacing that with work of your own either. The bastard gets what he gets and that will do.

In truth, your work since having König here has only improved, and perhaps you’re showing off a bit, but the way he watches you tinker with the dusty old things as if mesmerized fills you with pride. You could fix anything, yes, with him at your side you wanted to.

The house doesn’t echo wasted time anymore, only that crowding feeling of something buzzing and chirping, budding up in the spaces where shadows should crawl: love. You wouldn’t trade it for the loneliness to return, not ever. A new sort of fear that stings just as much as it does caress.

So you work in silence, only breaking it to answer the sparse questions that he throws out.

When the clock is shoddily finished, you wipe the oil from your hands on a rag, and take König’s own large arm as it’s offered out to you to stand.

“I will carry it for you tonight,” he suggests, delicately brushing a bit of dust from your sleeve. His touch does linger, always lingers, trailing up to massage at your shoulder and cup at your neck. The swell of heat that arrives at your face then, the press of your thighs beneath your skirt… it’s always the same.

“I thought that you didn’t want to go into town?”

Your shoulder meets his chest as you press against him, doing very little to calm your body’s frustrations. The blood within you stirs like a violent wave feeling him this near— cleaned up and dressed in some patchwork conglomerate of your father’s old clothes. He smells like a union between the earth and sea, salt and alder leaf, a hint of thyme and lavender.

His eyes glitter when his gaze roves from your face to chest, hand skittering down to curl at the small of your back. To anyone else, you would look the picture of husband and wife perhaps.

“I would go anywhere with you.”

A fresh normal, like the rise of spring, those words and touches that suggest more: threatening while you plead in silence for him to just give you a push, unlace your dress and finally feel and see him properly.

“Then… yes, let’s get the cursed thing out of here tonight.”

His grip tightens around you just for a moment, fingers curling and flexing into the soft linen covering you, bunching it up just so at your back before he relents, draws away.

“You dislike this one?” König sounds almost hurt, perhaps he favored it, being tall and similar to him in some way. Another odd thing, hard to place, but he’s never seemed to like you talking down about your own work, a habit that needed breaking.

“No,” you begin to explain, curling your arms around his middle as you both stare at the thing, ticking quietly before you, “its owner is just a pain.”

“I can tell. You seem nervous, meine geliebte.”

“You haven’t taught me that one yet,” you point out, not playing coy, despite the look he gives you that suggests you know.

There’s always that ache when his eyes narrow and that playful glint reaches them. How someone could look as though they’ve suffered dozens of lifetimes of pain and still have that look, you did not know, but it excites you. A furious, needy excitement.

“Beloved,” is all that he says.

The stare relents as he heads back out into the garden, leaving you to sort yourself out.

———

“You’re sure that you can carry it the entire way?”

It’s not that you could help, really. The thing must have weighed as much as yourself, strung up over König’s back with a rope he had found lying someplace in the garden.

“Ja, it’s fine.” He’s not out of breath in the slightest either. You realize then that if you put on all your charms bending, arching and delicately maneuvering your hands to fix the clocks, the assuredly this was his way of doing the same. You try to reign yourself in from staring at the damp spot on his shirt, clinging to his broad expanse of chest, the way that his thighs seem to tense with each step forward.

You can’t— you merely trail behind him until you take the lead to bring him right to the other man’s doorstep. Your hands find the ropes that keep the clock saddled to König’s back, carefully untying them as he stoops down to let its wooden legs rest against the ground below. It scrapes, the consequence of being so heavy and forced to stand on those four tiny legs, and only then does it decide to make a cacophony of noise signaling the new hour, a trilling sort of bong that makes even your ears ring as it breaks up the silence of the night.

You don’t even need to knock, because the door flies open immediately. The man stands proud, unperturbed by your giant companion as he shoves past you to inspect his clock. There are no greetings, no pleasantries, and if you were just a bit more careless with your reputation, smacking him would have only brought you satisfaction.

“Not good, but it will do,” the little man huffs, knocking at the glass casing over the clock’s face with his knuckle. “Be a dear and have your friend bring it in for me.”

You’ve no doubt that König senses your annoyance as he cocks his head at you, but when you give a curt nod in response, he does what’s requested. The clock is set in a large den. It’s not as opulent and gilded as you had expected, just a simple home housing a very infuriating man. You watch from the doorway, swaying on your feet as König rights the clock and pushes it where he’s directed. Just a few more seconds and the two of you would be well on your way, and perhaps he would even teach you a new curse for a man like that.

He comes uncomfortably close to König’s side, a smug look plastered over his face that only seems to exaggerate just how greasy and mousy that you know him to be. Something is whispered that you can’t quite make out, a dare, a mocking taunt, something that pisses you off even without the knowledge.

The hood is pulled off by thin fingers, cast aside to the floor beyond the pair.

The man’s face goes pale before you even get a glimpse of König at all. He backs away, mouth gaping as König calmly moves to retrieve the cloth. You think you hear the word “monster” mumbled amidst a slew of incoherent babbling, but when your companion turns to face you, you feel no fear.

König’s face is like patchwork, scars connecting all together. They run like small streams up from his jaw and over his chin, splitting his lip at the corner of his mouth and dancing up to his eye. The nose is broken in places, several times over likely, crooked with a bump that only seems strangely cute. The unkempt hair lining his jaw should be trimmed, but… there’s no monster here. Only a man who has seen and felt pains that you could not bring yourself to imagine.

His head dips when he notices your wide-eyes stare, a sort of shame hidden away behind strands of long, black hair. He shuffles out of the house and shuts the door behind him, standing rigid as he expects the worst, for you to wail and sob and gather a group of townsfolk to herd him far away with fire and stones.

You only take his hand.

“Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t bother to hide himself away again during the walk back, his hand remains in your hold, trembling every now and then and gripping you tighter as he struggles with the thoughts no doubt raging in his skull like a storm. You offer your comfort as you lean toward him, head pressed against his arm even as you turn the knob and step inside.

You warm a bath for him then, a task that is no easy feat. König does not offer his help, resigned to some belief that this is only a temporary pity.

He allows you to peel away his clothes, graze your fingers over his body, over the scars all with a barely contained creature scraping out from inside: the untamed bull that you can not see. You press a kiss there, over his heart, feel it’s beating against your lips, pulling away only when his thumb strokes your cheek.

Each new sight of him is just as wonderful as they have always been. It’s not that you take pleasure in seeing the way he must have suffered; the now healed bullet wound over his abdomen speaks volumes of just what people are capable of when met with the sight of something that they do not understand.

The questions burn at the back of your skull, bitten back as your jaw tightens.

You help him wash with soap and a soft cloth, carefully removing any patches of dirt and dust that have lingered despite his near-daily bathing since living beneath your roof. The rough beard is trimmed in full, until all that’s left is a trail of dark stubble lingering along his jaw, broken up by scars like thin spider silk that make up the entirety of his body.

His hair is a mess, too, matted and clinging to his skull in wild clumps. You’re gentle with the brush as you free the tangles, clipping at what can not be saved with sharpened scissors, and massaging at his scalp as he murmurs his approval. It’s such a subdued, gentle cooing from his chest, a purr almost that shatters your heart and forces it back into place instantly.

Whatever he was or was not, you were certain this stray had never felt a touch like your own, if he had ever been touched by human hands at all.

König seems to settle greatly once you’ve tended to him and it does seem to finally dawn on him that you’re not repulsed, you’ve touched most of his damaged body, and have only brought him the gentleness that should have been commonplace by now. This isn’t some elaborate torture method— it’s only tender.

“Your turn, hm?”

That, however, brings you pause. Your hands rest on his shoulder, carefully trying to loosen a stubborn knot when you abruptly still. As if that were all he needed for encouragement, his hands cinch your waist, pulling you up and over the rim of the tub as you whine your protests in hushed little hisses. All for naught, as you find yourself submerged below the waist.

“I’m still dressed,” you sulk as the water dampens your dress, now seated between his parted thighs.

König only gives a laugh in response as his arms encase you in another embrace, his head resting against the dip between your shoulder and neck as his chest is brought to press against your back.

“And you’re still mine.”

His fingers trail further down to the wet fabric billowing amidst the soft, lapping waves of the water, pulling it up until it rests just above your hips. There’s no tact, only a clumsy sort of desperation rarely seen upon men, especially not of his stature.

You allow him to loosen the strands of lace at your back, bring your clothing up and over your head to leave it resting and dripping over the rim, pooling below onto the boards of the wooden floor. Your undergarments follow to join the flooding pile of soaked linen and lace.

You’re flustered certainly, grateful for the water surrounding that conceals the warmth that echoes your fondness for this titan between your legs.

You even considered that he would be more shy, not… as eager to begin to wash you, and not with the cloth but with his own hands, nimbly moving over every dip and curve coating you in the slick residue of soap, leaving suds in its wake. He starts at your shoulders, breath growing heavy the more you soften and relax against his chest.

It’s only a matter of time before his hands find and cup your breasts, and you swear that you can feel the grin that splits his face as you melt further against him. König gropes at and massages you there, eager fingers deliberately stroking at your hardened nipples until you quiver and sigh.

You find purchase moving your arms to your sides to grasp at his biceps, muscles flexing as he works his way down your trembling abdomen to your mound, kissing at your shoulder as you purr your encouragement.

The praises that leave your lips come tight and barely restrained as a finger trails against your slit, moving up to circle your clit before diving back down to prod at you.

Your head is gently tilted back by his free hand, your face peppered in clumsy, messy kisses as a digit sinks into you. It’s lazy work, trying to find a rhythm with your squirming. He only seems satisfied when it presses further, curling against the spot that makes you mewl sweetest, and finally, he kisses you full on.

It’s delivered as sloppily as his fingering, any trailing thought left in your skull dims, fuzzy with sheer bliss as his thumb begins to pet at your clit in tandem with each push and drag of his index. It doesn’t help that you feel his own growing need, hard and hot against your lower back, throbbing with each sound pulled from your mouth, his hips jerking on occasion to drag his shaft against your backside.

“König, we should get out,” you murmur through a flood of heat that curls and urges and presses at your lower half to seek some satisfaction, have him bed you proper. “We can go to—“

His mouth meets yours again, hungrier and more determined than before, the water rolling with each flick of his thumb. In a mere moment you feel that heat stoke to an inferno, blazing from your stomach to cause your feet to kick out, water sloshing over the side of the tub as you ride out each passing wave of paradise crying openly into his mouth.

When your trembling does subside, he kisses your cheek and pulls you up from the water, wrapping you up in his arms. His stare remains ever burning, pupils blown to a coal black, dreamy in the way he slinks back just to drink you in further. You can’t keep track of all of the places his eyes seem to dart, which touch to settle on and relish as he paws at you from chest to rear, as if mesmerized that you are no mere illusion.

You’re giving him everything; no longer the king of simply a beating organ tucked beneath your breast, but your body, bed, wherever he chooses to conquer next, of all the things that he’s been deprived of.

“We will go to bed, beloved,” he rasps, sounding more present than ever. The nightmares lurking behind his eyes have long past now: all focus is turned to you. You’re the only thing that’s ever loved him in return. “We will… become one.”

“Have you ever…” Your own voice fails you now, the evident want between you two incapable of making this any less… tedious. It was tedious, a flighty feathered thing that seems keen on slipping out of your grasp at any moment. If it were to be his first, surely it should be special, somehow, someway. If it were not… you dreaded that thought, a bitter envy sours on your tongue until it’s shaken off.

“No,” he states simply, shrugging.

Though a sense of relief seems to flood you at that, you dare not show it. You will take him to your bed, climb atop him and show him how these things work, a slow sort of love and the rest could wait.

It was foolish to believe that König would settle for such a thing, wild and only temporarily tamed by your sweetness: he is entirely different the moment you’re herded into the bedroom. The desperation of his touches has faded out entirely, replaced with what feels almost like a rage.

He wouldn’t take out humanities sins on you, no, but he would years of brutal neglect have left him starved and it just so happens that you’re an outlet for it, something to feed from by way of spilling his soul and his seed all into you, taken back with the kisses and praises that would surely come after this union.

You’re unceremoniously pushed onto the bed, lying at your side as he climbs in behind you. He whispers his requests into your hair, even as his hand wraps to pull your thigh up before you can bless him with a nod in response. He struggles for a moment, parting your labia with the obscene, ridiculous thing that hangs between his legs. It drags over you in repetition, oiled like the clock cogs before the head of his cock finally finds the opening his finger explored only minutes earlier.

You almost expect him to break you right then, force you to take what your body— no body- had surely been made for, but he only thrusts the tip inside and gives you some time to adjust, roll your hips down centimeter by agonizing centimeter.

“You are… Does it hurt you..?” His voice is a breathless pant, trying to hold himself together despite the daze he’s found himself in, buried not even three inches into your cunt.

“No… you can move,” you breathe out, eyelids fluttering as you tilt you head to look at him over your shoulder.

König clings to you as he sinks further, grasping at your waist to pull your further down, sharp breaths hissed between gritting teeth as he delights in the way your womanhood grips at his shaft.

Just as before, there’s no rhythm to him, he takes the sounds that leave you as a direction, huffing into your ear words that your mind could not hope to translate. There’s an indulgence to it, shared between you both as his hand curls tighter against your thigh, spread open and accepting of the brutal pace he takes to have just a taste of what it feels to be a normal man.

His words falter at a point, when you feel your body tightening around him, sucking him in, closer, nearer as your head lolls back. The inferno from before pales in comparison to the blaze that overtakes you now, his voice strained with bliss as you begin to moan for him. With each drag and soar of his cock spearing you open, you’re only brought further to a glimpse of Eden. If this were the fall of man, you find you couldn’t question Eve for relishing in it.

“… you gave me a name,” he rasps, “A home…”

All at once that glimmer of heaven crashes down around you, bathes you in the glow of something lofty and holy as he pulls you close and drives himself to the hilt within you. The throbbing and pulsing of his length pulls you over just as his seed spills within, drips thick and flooding as your own sex drools in tandem, sharing a perfect rapture both clandestine and sacred. He gives you another generous thrust, ensuring that he’s carved a space inside no other man could ever hope to fill.

You fret when you find him weeping, quiet tears rolling down his pale cheeks to spill over your shoulder, but the gentle smile on his face is pacifying as you twist around to face him. “And now you have my love.”

“I’ll cherish it,” he murmurs, voice broken and pitiful as you’re maneuvered upward to rest against the feather-stuffed pillows against the headboard.

You curl against him, head resting on his chest, an arm draped over his waist. He takes your hand into his own, appraising it like the first time you properly met. Hands of a maker. Your mind wanders to significance in that statement, the things that needn’t be told are finding ways to curtain you anyhow when he speaks again.

“Could you fix me?” He asks, tracing over the calluses on your fingertips, still bathing in the afterglow.

The question, though you felt it coming, still hurts to hear him speak it: breathing life into a thought that should have never existed to begin with.

“There’s nothing to fix.” Though you speak true, though you know he feels your sincerity, his eyes are heavy when he looks to you again. “Why would you ask me that?”

The story that he tells you then is one of horror. From his maker down to the things he’s done, seen, felt: hated from the moment he woke into this strange world, the horrible loneliness that pushed and bedded down inside of him like acceptance never would. The people that he’s throttled in some desire to finally have someone like him; men, women, it made no difference. All of it is bared with only one message eternally prevalent: he has only ever wanted to be loved.

In truth, he was a monster. Not because he was given the instinctual urge to be, but because it was all he knew. Gnashing teeth from demons hurling that word out with every stone they threw, every shot and stab at his heart.

You listen, despite the way it hurts, pull him a little closer when he ends his tale with your meeting, how he knew you were the only blessing he would ever receive in his lifetime— however long that may be.

You were good at fixing broken things, but König never needed to be fixed. Only found.

———

“Now you’re supposed to say it,” you hum, as his hands reach to the hem of the hood— his- covering your face. They rove beneath the fabric, curling against the skin of your cheeks, tracing small patterns there, some rotations like the clocks, others the childish hearts scribbled into books.

“I vow to take you as my wife.”

“You’re bad at this.” You giggle when he does finally push the cloth up past your nose, above your eyes and further until it’s pulled back like a veil.

“I will love you endlessly,” he continues, returning your noise of elation with a huffed laugh of his own. “I already do.”

“I love you, too.”

No one in town would ever properly marry you two, not if one look could make a weak man fall to his knees in horror, but here, beneath the roof of a home once echoing the same voice that haunts him… it was good enough. The moon seems to echo your vows with dancing rays, stars twinkling in approval as the calls of night birds carry through the open window.

There are no rings, no written formalities to be stored away with dust-ridden papers, preyed upon by mites. It’s far more sacred, genuine than the flippant affairs and arrangements that go on with those that would so readily cast the both of you aside. In truth— the thought of them rarely comes; doesn’t even rile up that intense fear inside of you any longer.

Everything only seems easier with the blooming garden outdoors, and the man who gazes upon you like he sees divinity itself behind your eyes, in the softness of your flesh.

When you kiss, it’s something from a fairytale, flowers strewn at your feet and the veil removed from your hair by a gentle hand.

Eden doesn’t seem so much like a memory lost to time, after all.

#könig x reader #könig x you #konig x reader #konig x you #könig #konig #cod fanfiction

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sharing a bed with Levi for the first time after he came back

Just a little aftercare for this fic (click to read)

You still can’t believe your own luck. After all those years you endured this merciless war underneath the surface, all those years you prayed for your beloved husband to come back. And now he’s sitting next to you in the dim candle light far past midnight while reading through a tower of papers. And you simply cannot bring yourself to let go of him.

How are you supposed to ever let him go again when last time, you didn’t see him for years after?

“You should go to sleep, love. It was a long day”, he gently murmurs into your hair.

Looking up at him through sleep-deprived wet lashes still seems like a dream. Just the feeling of his warmth pressed against yours, his tight biceps between your eager arms, his minty smell you remember oh so well. It really seems like nothing changed.

But the look on his face tells you otherwise. Those dark circles that get enhanced by the dim moonlight don’t lie as well as the worry lines that now decorate his face. There is absolutely no doubt in the fact that Levi went through a lot without you. Your heart clenches uncomfortably inside your chest, arms holding onto him even tighter.

“I was wondering…If you’d mind sharing a bed with me…”, you mutter.

Why on earth are you acting so shy right now? The man sitting next to you is your husband, after all.

Levi lays the paper he just read through aside, hand lifting your chin up ever so gently.

“I don’t remember when I last slept a night, (y/n)”, he admits while putting strands of hair behind your ear mindlessly.

"It seems like I forgot how it works the day I lost you."

Your heart drops to the floor, eyes wavering in nothing but grief. What did he go through without you by his side, what horror did his grey eyes see? Out of instinct, you put your hand into his nape, draw his lips even closer to yours until they finally meet in a tender kiss.

“Let me show you how it’s done, then”, you whisper against his softness before you lift yourself up.

The air in the room around you seems to sparkle while your hand guides him to the plain single bed standing in the middle of the room. Countless nights, you imagined the love of your life back by your side. Countless nights, you tried to remember what his body feels like pressed against yours, his soft breath caressing your cheek every morning.

You let yourself fall onto the hard mattress, the bed not giving in an inch by your weight. Levi soon follows behind, his now dark eyes glued to your face.

“You can’t imagine how much I missed this. Since the day I had to leave you behind, I didn’t allow myself to fall asleep without holding you between my arms when I wake up.”

You feel like crying and giggling at the same time, a sad smile decorating your lips. Oh, how much you missed your husband, how much you longed for sharing a bed with him again.

“But now you can. Trust me when I say I’ll never leave your side again. No matter what. Even if you push me away.”

Oh, how good it feels to press your head against his firm chest, his steady heartbeat making you feel like home.

“I would never push you away, (y/n).”

He wraps his arms around your shoulders and waist gently, pushes you even closer against his inviting body. For the first time since you finally got your husband back, you allow your eyes to rest, to take a break from constantly gazing at him.

Slowly but surely, you feel his steady breath against your forehead, how his firm muscles relax around you just before you yourself get consumed by darkness.

What a bittersweet and tender night it is, finally sharing the same bed with your husband after longing for him countless nights.

#aot levi #levi aot #aot #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot fluff #levi fluff #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #captain levi #levi x reader #husband levi #levi x you #levi x y/n #aot x y/n #aot x you #aot fanfiction #aot fanfic #aot fandom #aot masterlist #attack on titan x reader #levi ackermann x reader #levi ackermann x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi angst

[mavrintarou]

[Daddies in December] Suna Rintarou

Sorry, I slacked off the last couple of days. The holiday got super busy and honestly, I was going to write for Kakashi but it got toooooooo long and I felt like maybe it should be a story of its own lol. With a few days left in December, I'll try my best to share a few of my other favorite characters, of course, I couldn't leave my favorite boy out. Kept this short but sweet. Happy Christmas (wherever you are depending on the time zone)

Warning: fluff & small description of smut (can you believe I was able to keep it short)

Prequel

.

Every time Rin leaves the house, he has to stop by his Christmas tree and have a moment of silence with the new customized ornament Y/n put up.

They have been married for three years and have spent three years traveling and enjoying their lives as married couples. Both their careers are demanding and it is a cherished moment when they are allowed synchronized time together.

“Can’t wait to meet you,” he murmurs, tapping the ornament frame of an ultrasound picture. “I’ll see you and mommy soon.”

Getting in his sports car, a thought suddenly comes to mind, with a baby on the way, he’ll have to get a car that will be family friendly. He never thought of getting rid of his baby, but with a real baby on the way, he had never felt so excited to go to the car dealership.

But that task would have to wait as he needed to go to the airport to pick Y/n up.

It still makes Rin chuckle about how he had discovered that they were expecting.

Four months ago, they had decided they would try for a baby, to start a family after waiting for a few years. The following month, Y/n went off her birth control and they began trying to conceive.

Rin was a sucker for cumming inside Y/n. He believes he was the most excited when it came to trying to make a baby.

“Rin, enough…” Y/n whispered tiredly. “We don’t have to get pregnant on the first try…”

“I know, but just one more time,” he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, telling her the same thing two times ago. He rolled her onto her back, pushing her thighs wide. He watched his cum ooze out as he slowly stuffs his cock back into her pussy. He was going to fill her up once more.

Sure enough, it must have been that first initial try that made her pregnant right away.

Y/n was a commercial pilot with an odd schedule. Between their careers and schedules, there would be some moments where they wouldn’t see each other for almost five days.

Nonetheless, they made it work and were able to stay in contact with one another through video calls.

Each year at the beginning of December, they would decorate the Christmas trees together. Trees.

When they began dating, Rin had his tree at his place, the same with Y/n. Rin had his tree that stood 7 feet tall while Y/n had her small 5-foot tall tree. They made it their special tradition to exchange ornaments each year.

When they married, neither could agree on which tree they should keep and decided why not keep both?

Rin would decorate his tree while Y/n decorated her tree right beside each other in the designated corner of Rin’s condo. There was one year when Y/n had been upset with Rin and set her tree up on the opposite corner from their usual spot.

And the moment Y/n was off to work, Rin carried and moved her tree next to his, where it belonged.

In their two and half years of dating, he has collected two ornaments from Y/n and added three additional for their three years of marriage. This was going to be their sixth year of the tradition.

But with their conflicting schedule, Y/n was left to decorate her tree first.

Rin had been so exhausted and busy with wrapping up the season of his career that he had not gotten the opportunity to go to the store to pick out his ornament or decorate his tree. By the time he got around to it, it was the middle of December already.

He returned home with a small bag, this year he chose a brown stuffed teddy bear with a red heart on the belly. He was drawn to it and after searching for his options, he settled for that one for no particular reason. It was just calling his name.

Y/n had set up the lights and ribbons on his tree, all he had left to do was to put up the ornaments he received from her throughout the years. He glanced inside the container of each of the ornaments from throughout the years and smiled.

Y/n had told him that she put her new one up on his tree already and had to find it.

He looked all over the tree and couldn’t find the ornament that was labeled 2023 as they always marked the year on it.

Grabbing his phone, he called her.

But his call went to voicemail. He frowned, she should be at the hotel in Austria.

He searched thoroughly until something caught his eye…

Rin’s yellow eyes glowed with the Christmas lights when he found it.

It was sort of hidden further into the tree branches that he got down on one knee, being at eye level with Y/n’s 2023 ornament.

He inhales as he swallows the lump in his throat.

It all clicked in his head that she had placed at the same level as her belly.

His phone rang and he immediately picked it up when he saw Y/n’s picture on his screen.

Neither said a word and he sighed, letting out a chuckle. “Well, that’s one hell of a way of telling me we’re expecting.”

His heart relaxed when he heard her giggle, “finally, took you long enough.”

“I’m sorry, this season was crazy and I just got around to it.” He tapped on the video icon, “let me see you.”

Her face appeared on the screen and Rin felt himself falling in love once again. Had she always had this glow to her? How did he not realize she was pregnant?

“God, you’re so beautiful, I miss you like crazy.”

“Are you only saying that because it took you… sixteen days and eighteen hours and thirty-four minutes to finally discover it?” Her tone was teasing but Rin knew she was half serious. He knew she must have been frustrated that he had not seen it yet. That was his Y/n, she always found a creative way of surprising him and he loved it.

“No. You know that’s not it.” He wiped his face with his hands, still not believing the moment. He reached to touch the ornament, taking it off the branches. “I love it. It is the best one I’ve received from you.”

“Next year, we’ll have to get a baby tree.”

He nodded, with a bright smile. “Yes, we’ll need to get a tree for them.”

. . .

E/n: Some of these daddies' stories, I might branch off and write more... for sure, I think we need to know more about Rin's story hehe

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu suna #suna smut #suna rintarou smut #suna x you #suna fluff #suna rintarou x y/n #suna rintarou x you #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro #suna drabble #suna scenarios #suna fic

[munariplans]

cold | natasha romanoff

synopsis: AU to the spidey!reader and natasha series, wherein a bad argument leads to unsaid misunderstandings and forever guilt between natasha and her love, just before christmas.

natasha romanoff x spidey! reader

word count: 2.2k words

warnings: major character death

a/n: i have to emphasise that this is an AU for these two once more, or i fear i may not make it out alive for christmas from your wraths as well...

masterlist

cold had been the one word you would describe the look in her eyes, as she told you to get out. to get out, if it made you happier going out on that stupid mission than spending time at home with your family. that stupid mission that no one could deny was not only dangerous, but life-threatening. but you were confident in your abilities. you knew that if anyone could survive it, you could. you also knew that bringing the stolen artefact home could add a nice year-end bonus that would chip in heavily to the new play room that was being built for your son. 

you didn’t mention any of that to natasha, of course. she was already enraged enough as it is, standing by the christmas tree the three of you had decorated together. your son was a greater help than you, she would say, as you carried him on your shoulders and allowed him to choose where he wanted to hang the ornaments beside natasha. you remembered those moments fondly. 

“get out then,” she bit harshly, “get out on that stupid, godforsaken mission if you have to. i could care less about trying to convince you otherwise anymore. it seems that whatever i say these days doesn’t even matter.”

“nat, of course what you say matters.”

“you don’t love me enough to have it matter.”

“how can you–”

but she had put up a hand to stop you. it was enough. she had sighed deeply, and began walking back to the bedroom. it was late, and your son had a preschool play the next day. natasha needed to get up early to put his costume together for him. 

you didn’t see a point fighting her. maybe you should have. maybe you should have gone up to her, wrapped your arms around her, and told her just how sorry you were. that you weren’t going on the mission anymore, because it would be going against her wishes, and you loved her too much to disrespect her like that. maybe things would’ve been different then. 

what you did instead, was sigh irritatedly as well, and began packing up for the mission. getting dressed in your spider suit underneath plain clothing, you slipped your mask into one of the pockets on your jacket. the pendant with natasha’s photo inside of it hung snugly on your neck; your good luck charms. 

natasha watched you enter the bedroom, equipping your web shooters and packing the last of your things. she didn’t say anything. when you were finished and shot one last longing glance to her, she clenched her jaw and looked away. she didn’t want to be the one to give in first. she wished she had. she wished she had just put her ego down, and hugged and kissed you goodbye. it would have alleviated so much of the regret, and sorrow, that she was feeling right now. 

you nodded understandingly, swallowing a particularly difficult breath. coming a little closer, you noticed natasha not flinching when you moved. so you took the chance to kiss her on the cheek, and murmur i’ll be home soon in her ear. she gave a nonchalant grunt and drew the covers over her face. 

but natasha still cared. she cared so much that it hurt; it was inane for her, just caring for you. and so when you left the bedroom and made your way across the hall to your son’s room, she followed.

she watched by the door as you woke him up gently, leaning down to smile at him as he sleepily reached out for your voice in the dark. you held his hand, calling him your little warrior, and then, you leaned down and whispered, just enough for natasha to barely make out, “take care of your mama for me while i’m gone, okay? just like we talked about, my warrior.”

his hands imitated your own when you shot your web shooters; the spider pose, he would say, as you chuckled. you kissed him gently on the forehead then, and tucked him back in. 

“when will you be back?” he asked, eyes wide as he saw your mission supplies. 

you smiled sadly at him. “just in time for christmas, i promise.”

“pinky promise?” he let out his pinky, you interlaced it with yours, nodding. 

natasha disappeared back into the room before you could see her, her own eyes red and brimming with tears. she heard the click of the front door a few seconds later. she wished she had never allowed you to leave that night. 

– 

it had been a mistake; a miscalculation on your part, which led to a mistake with even graver consequences than you had realised. you had slipped in the wet snow running from the enemies, allowing them to catch up with you. just enough for a clear shot.

the first few seconds after the initial gunshot felt broken, silent in the freezing air of the night. your breath was still ragged, desperate to flee, and your reflexes had been working perfectly fine. then came the second, and the third, and you knew something had gone very, very wrong. 

you let go of the artefact, and zipped away out of sight. 

ending up at a rooftop just near the park, you could hear the confused shouts and demands for the enemies to find you. but you knew, that while you were not safe up there, you were hidden. stumbling as you landed, you scrambled to feel just where you had been shot, and why the bullets weren’t deflected from your near-bulletproof suit. you cursed when you felt that they had been designed to mimic the density of arrows instead. 

“oh my god,” you hadn’t realised just how much blood was pouring out of you. you reached out for the wall beside you, but soon enough, standing proved to be too arduous of a task, as you crippled to your knees. your hands drawn back were doused in blood, and you finally felt just how piercing the wounds were, exposed to the cold.

you lay on your back. rolling over onto your back was all you could manage. the lightheadedness was coming quickly; you were so cold, everything hurt. you had tried pressing your hands against the wounds, but even more hot blood coated them while doing so. under the moonlight, the blood appeared thick and black, almost like molasses. 

the crippling fear that you were going to bleed out before anyone could find you began to set in. and through your short, panicked, breaths, you felt something slip out of your pocket. the blood had made the grip in your suit slippery enough to allow your phone to slip. 

there, the wallpaper of natasha and your son shone bright against the dark backdrop of the night. you shut your eyes, summoning the last of your strength to grip it and bring it closer to you. your fingers slipped as they pressed down on natasha’s number from muscle memory. your vision had gone blurry by the time you managed to press the phone against your ear. 

the tone rang once, twice, then, “hello?”

her voice was always sweet like honey. the thought of bleeding out before you could hear that voice for another day would have filled you with the rage of dying, but you had no energy for it any longer. you were so very, very tired. and so very, very cold. 

“hi, my love.”

natasha moved the phone to her other ear. you rarely called her during missions; you had always feared for her safety. there was the soft pitter patter of rain in the background of where you were. natasha didn’t know that in the rain, the water and blood was slowly filling up your lungs. 

“what’s wrong?” you hated how she knew there was something amiss. her voice already carried an air of concern.

you cleared your throat. “nothing. i just needed to hear your voice…how have you been?”

“it’s only been a week, baby. nothing much has changed since you left.” natasha would regret uttering those words just a few minutes later.

you smiled. “t-that’s good. how was our boy’s play? d-did he outshine the others, like i said?”

“he did, he was easily the best one there,” natasha cooed, her other hand ruffling your son’s hair as he played with his toys while waiting for natasha to complete mission reports in the compound. “he misses you so much.” 

“tell him–” the line crackled as the rain beat down harder on you, “–please tell him–that–that i miss him too.”

the troubled feeling in natasha’s gut only grew bigger. “i will. baby, is everything okay over there? is the mission…okay?”

you drew a ragged breath that natasha didn’t miss. “yeah, yeah of course. mission’s perfectly fine. like i said…i just wanted to hear your voice.”

there was a beat of silence, as natasha held her tongue and you hoped she wouldn’t detect the fading in your voice. it hurt to breathe by then. 

“nat?”

“yes?” she responded immediately. 

“i’m sorry, nat. for going on this mission. for going against your wishes. i’m sorry–” the line crackled, “–that i made you feel small, or your opinions unvalued. you know that…you know that your opinions always matter to me. and–” 

you had drawn up a cough, wet and bloody. “–and i’m sorry for all the times i never made you feel as loved as i should have. i’m sorry for not loving you enough, as you told me. i regret everything about that argument we had, you know. i love you so much, i don’t think i could fathom…the idea of losing you.”

“it’s alright, baby, it’s really alright,” natasha had moved from her office to the main comms room, paging for an emergency meeting, “i forgive you. and i said some nasty things i didn’t mean too. i hope you forgive me as well, and we can move past it, together. i love you too, you know.”

“yeah, i do,” your eyelids were drooping, “thank you.”

natasha could hear the footsteps of the others by then. “baby, are you sure everything is alright? should i call for help? where are you?”

“no, no,” you begged, “please, i’m alright. just stay on the line with me, please.”

“i’m not hanging up.”

you let out another bloodied cough. this time, it was hard to deny that natasha couldn’t hear it, because it had launched you into an even worse state, your suit beginning to grow heavy on your bones from the water and blood. there was no hope by then. 

“nat?”

“yes, sweetheart.”

“it’s just me and you here, right?” you looked up to the moon, wondering if it was the same one she was staring at right now.

natasha shut her eyes in pain, gripping the table before her. fury’s hand wrapped over hers, as the team gathered around her. they had already begun tracing your call, and the avengers were suiting up. “...just me and you.”

you were wincing between every word, “the drawer below where you keep your winter coats. our son’s christmas present…and yours. i–don’t think–i can make it home for christmas on time. will you help me break the news…to him? i’m sorry.”

natasha let the tears run freely then. they had found you. and she had seen just the state you were in. “baby, please. why are you–”

“–please?” natasha shook her head. this cannot be happening. “nat, please?”

“okay, okay,” she reluctantly agreed. whatever to keep you awake. “in exchange, can you…can you hold on for a little while longer? i’m coming, baby.”

you let out a soft exhale as you smiled. “i love you nat. i always have, and i always will.”

“i love you too. so please, can you–”

“–do me a favour, nat. don’t. don’t try. just please…please stop crying for me?”

she had wanted to scream. she had wanted to scream, to find you and shake you so hard that you would wake up and realise that you were killing her just by dying too, and that she had wanted to slap you so hard for even daring to ask her not to cry. but she also wanted to hold you, to hug you and kiss you, and have the opportunity of feeling your touch once more before she said goodbye. she didn’t want this to be the way it all ended. 

she didn’t know how she was going to survive without you. her blood was running cold and she was pacing back and forth in anxiety. the team didn’t dare interfere with how she was dealing with the impending loss of her wife.

your voice was drifting further and further away. you were dying. 

“i have to go now, nat. please forgive me. please forgive me. and please kiss our son goodnight before bed tonight for me. thank you for everything.”

the phone dropped, and natasha’s world stopped. her son would not only know that you weren’t coming home for christmas, but you weren’t coming home at all. and she would know that had she just convinced you a little better, loved you a little harder, you wouldn’t have gone on the mission. and she would still have you by her side for christmas. 

cold had been the body they found right outside yours and natasha's shared apartment. cold had been natasha’s heart the moment she saw you again, the life in your eyes gone and the guilt in her heart needling itself into grief. 

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #natasha romanoff x spidey!reader

[probablysimpledreams]

You're All I Desire

(Dazai x reader: NSFW)

a/n: omfg it has been a moment since I've written a full fic but here I am !!! the idea for this one has been on my mind ALL DAMN DAY bc the Dazai brainrot has been so real lately my man <3 my man <3 my mannnnn <333 so enjoy some smut xoxo

cw: mention of masturbation (reader getting off by thinking of Dazai & Dazai getting off by thinking of reader), use of clit vibrator, gender neutral reader however reader does have female parts, Dazai refers to reader as "Bella" aka his famous Belladonna petname, Dazai eating reader out, thigh hickeys

word count: a tad over 1.6k

You mentally curse yourself as you pull up to your apartment complex, putting the car in park. After turning off the car, you and Dazai begin heading up into your apartment. Of course of all the days in the world, the day you're assigned to help Dazai with a case is the day you leave all the documents you needed to give him at home. It already took you an entire week to convince Kunikida to let you take them home so you could continue work later into the night with the comfort of your own TV and snacks right at your fingertips. If only you had woken up ten or twenty minutes earlier, then you wouldn't have been rushing out the door this morning.

"Okay they should be-," your eyes widen at the disastrous sight that was awaiting you behind the door. "FUCK ME!" you exclaim as you throw your shoes at the entranceway, Dazai's faint laugher in the background as he follows your lead. "I promise it's usually this bad," you sigh as you turn to Dazai, turning back to the mess of an apartment in front of you. This week you promised to cat sit for your friend, assuring them the cat would feel right at home in your apartment. What your friend failed to mention was their cat's love for wrecking havoc in new places.

"It's cute~" Dazai chuckles as he looks around your messy yet cozy apartment. "You have a good eye for decor," he mentions as he begins walking around the living room, giving himself a self guided tour. You smile at his compliment, trying not to show how nervous having him in your apartment makes you.

It was pretty obvious to everyone at the office that you had a little crush on Dazai. I mean, how could you not? Not only was he beautiful, but he was funny and smart and so much deeper than the persona he puts on for the world. Something deep inside wants to unravel these layers he hides himself under, both literally with bandages and emotionally with his charming nature.

You only allowed yourself to fantasize so much about him though since you were unsure what he felt about you. Sure he flirted with you almost daily, but at what point is that Dazai just simply being Dazai? You always allowed yourself to indulge in his flirting advances, but never forgot that it was just a workplace crush.

"Shit and they were right here," you sigh, palm of your hand hitting your forehead in frustration as you stand in front of your desk. Dazai looked over your shoulder, scanning the desk covered in old papers, a random book, pictures of you and your friends, and random trinket. A small smile forms on his lips as he studies these items, imaging you sitting here at night hard at work. The thought made his heart skip a beat. You were too cute for your own good.

"Time to get searching then!" Dazai exclaims, a little too excited for your liking. However, he was right as these documents needed to be found as soon as possible. You began looking around the desk as Dazai trailed off to other rooms. Too focused on finding these documents and keeping your job, you didn't may much attention to him doing as he pleased. Dazai smiled and hummed to himself as he peaked into your bedroom, admiring how your personality was so clearly visible through your decor. He couldn't help himself as he began scanning your book shelf before moving to your bed, poking the random plushies threatening to fall off your bed. He then finds his way to your nightstand, chuckling at the random assortment of things you sleep by. After scanning the small table, he raises an eyebrow at the halfway opened top drawer. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opens the drawer fully. Oh and is he happy he did.

"Phew okay Dazai I found the papers! We should get going or else-," your jaw almost dropped as you stared at the sight in front of you. Never in a million years did you image you would walk into your bedroom to find Dazai sitting on your bed, twirling your vibrator lazily in his hand. "Put that away. We're leaving."

"But I didn't get a chance to play with my new toy," he pouts.

"Dazai, I'm being serious." You try not to show how embarrassed you are, knowing it will only fuel his flames.

"So I am," he smirks as you walk towards him, trying to take the vibrator from his hands. "Tell me Bella~ Tell me all the fantasies you have of me when playing with yourself~" he teased, waving the wand around. You go silent at his taunt, face feeling flushed as you try to get words out. I mean of course you can't help yourself some nights, allowing yourself to get fully lost in the idea of Dazai touching you, pleasuring you. His name leaving your mouth in a muffled whimper as you finally find release. But he didn't know this, right? Because that would be weird. You wanted to yell at him for even thinking such nasty things, but your face gave the truth away.

Dazai's heart nearly stopped beating as he watched you fight yourself at his taunts. You usually never get this worked up over him, that's when he realizes: you actually do get off to him. His head almost exploded at the thought of you alone in your room, desiring him and only him. He was only half way kidding when he made this comment to you, not realizing you felt as much for him as he did you. He's had a full blown crush on you since you began working for the agency, but never expected his advances to go anywhere. He also was guilty of getting himself off to thoughts of you, letting desire run rapidly through his veins most nights. However, he wrote it off as another sin he will one day have to answer for. He would have never expected you to commit the same sin. The idea drove him crazy. Without thinking, he pulled you by your shirt into a sloppy kiss.

Your eyes widen as he pulls you in suddenly, but it doesn't take long for you to melt into the kiss. He helped you get seated on his lap, your body slowly grinding against his as the kiss deepened. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands tugging at his hair as you two continued making out on your bed, like two horny teenagers. The last thing on either your or Dazai's mind was getting back to the office as you felt a familiar wetness between your legs, and Dazai's hardening cock. The two of you pull away from each other's lips, a smile on his face as you pant.

"You're easy to get worked up~" he teased, making you roll your eyes and chuckle. Even in a heated moment he was too much, and you loved him for. "Here, let me help you." He shifts where he is sitting, lowering you onto your back. Once you're comfortably laying on your back, he slides your pants and underwear off so he can begin softly kissing your thighs. You whine as his lips leave soft, teasing kisses along your flesh.

"A-aah," you shut your eyes as he bites down on your inner thigh, sucking on the skin until a dark mark is formed. He chuckles before tracing the area with his tongue, leaving more soft kisses along this sensitive area of your body. "D-Dazai....please.....please touch me," you whine, becoming impatient as he repeats this process along your other thigh.

"How could I ever say no to you, ______~" he smiled as he turned the vibrator on, immediately finding the highest setting. You scream out as the toy made contact with your clit, an amused smile spreading across Dazai's face. He began moving the wand up and down, eyes glued to the way your body trembled as the vibrations shot through your body. Your hands began gripping the sheets as you quietly moaned out his name.

"That won't do," he sighed before applying more pressure to how he was holding the wand, increasing the vibrations on your clit.

"D-DAZAI!" you exclaim.

"Much better~" he teases as he continues playing with you, practically drooling at the sight of you. You're so close to coming, and Dazai can tell. You whine as he suddenly pulls the toy away from you, head shooting up to look at him and see what on earth he thinks he's doing.

"Dazai what the f-OH FUCK," you throw your head back as his mouth makes contact with your swollen clit. You moan as his tongue swirls around, his hands gripping your thighs to keep your legs wide open. You scream a mix of curses and his name as your legs shake, Dazai's face becoming slick with your juices. It doesn't take too long until you reach your climax, pulling at his hair as your thighs practically suffocate him. Dazai doesn't slow down, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you ride out your high. Your legs continue to shake as you try to steady your breathing, watching as he sits up to wipe his face, massive grin shining on his face.

You smile up at him, starting to sit up yourself. "We should probably actually start hea-," you're cut off by him pushing you back down on the bed with one hand as his other hand begins undoing his belt.

"Oh, Bella," he smirks, "we're only getting started~"

#bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut

[hayakawasb1tch]

Sweet As Sugar

Description: You had been Satoru's sugar baby for what felt like forever now, so what were you supposed to do when he left you home alone with nothing to entertain yourself?

TW: Daddy kink, reader is referred to as girl, unprotected sex, spit, alcohol mention, readers kind of annoying and a brat LMAO, exhibitionism, voyeurism, readers referred to as a slut once, cumming inside, major cucking, phone sex

A/N: Thank you to @icepopbucky23 for uttering the words sugar daddy gojo to me and @JuicyT for helping me flesh out ideas on Archive of Our Own and @zeninsama for helping me think of things for this fic! They are all super wonderful people, so please check out their work as well!

Part Two

Banner credit to @benkeibear

"What am I supposed to do while you're gone?" You complained loudly.

You were sitting on Satoru's California king size bed, the name very apt. The high thread count sheets underneath the palms of your hands kissed your skin, beckoning you to cozy up with a blanket.

"I'm sure you can find something to do, hm?" Satoru responded as he packed his suitcase.

He was going on a trip for the week. Ever since you started seeing him, you hadn't spent a week alone. What did he expect you to do while he was gone?

Your eyebrows furrowed up in frustration as you crossed your arms. You complained more since your arrangement with Satoru started, but in a way he was the one enabling it. He couldn't help but love it when you got riled up. Satoru turned around and smiled at you. Your bottom lip jutted out, making for a kissable pout. He stopped what he was doing and walked up to you, leaning down with his arms on either sides of you, caging you in.

"Why don't I send your allowance early? That should keep you nice and busy while I'm gone." He cooed down at you, pinching your cheek.

You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand away. Getting your money early would keep your hands full, you thought.

~~~

Except, both of you were wrong. You blew through most of your allowance the first couple of days Satoru was gone. Having spent it on ornate jewelry and purses. You only ever used one at a time, but you bought them just because you could. Your favorite thing you purchased was a black lingerie set. It was silky smooth, save for the lace that decorated it. You knew Satoru was going to absolutely love it, maybe even give you a raise. The mere idea sent giddy thoughts straight to your head. You began to ponder what you would spend the money on. A vacation maybe? That could be fun.

Right as you began thinking about where you would go on your metaphorical trip, your phone rang loudly. It immediately snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned the screen over and saw Satoru's contact pop up.

"Daddy 💗💸🤩"

You hit the big green button and slid the phone to your ear.

"Hey daddy." You answered with a smile, turning to lay on your stomach.

"Hey, how's my princess doing?" He questioned.

Satoru was on a business trip, so you were surprised he had the time to call you.

"I'm good, although I already spent all my allowance." You pouted while playing with your hair.

"That's too bad bunny, why don't you be a good girl for me and take some pretty pictures?"

You smiled devilishly, looking to the high end lingerie brand bag. Sending photos of yourself in that was sure to drive him crazy. He always hated looking but not touching.

You bid farewell to each other before hanging up. Jumping up to your feet you shimmied off your cozy night gown and picked up the bag. It was slightly hard to put on at first, but you were able to figure it out after 10 minutes. The fabric flaunted your favorite parts of your body. It was perfect. You walked over to your full length mirror and posed in it as you took pictures. The make up you wore complemented the lingerie, you could only dream of what Satoru's reaction would be to these pictures. With a sigh you hit send on his contact. You decided to take a bubble bath as you waited for his response.

You hummed to yourself as your body soaked in the lavish bubble bath. Just as you felt your muscles relax into utter bliss you heard your phone chime. Flipping it over you noticed a notification from Satoru. With a grin you opened it up, already knowing what would greet your eyes. A picture popped up on the screen. One that sent all the heat rushing to between your thighs.

Satoru's body filled up your screen. He stood in front of the hotel mirror with his shirt pulled up. The fabric was held taut between his lips, lips you so desperately wanted between your legs. Your eyes trailed down the plane of his chest all the way to his waist. In one of his hands he held his cock. By the way it shined you could tell precum was dribbling from the tip. It made your mouth water.

A message popped up below the picture.

See what you do to me bunny?

Your legs squirmed and clenched beneath the now-lukewarm-water. Your fingers traveled below your navel and reached your core. A moan escaped your lips as you began tracing your mound. You could feel the slickness from your heat coating your fingers. The feeling only turned you on even more. However, it wasn't enough. It never was.

You craved the stretch only Satoru could provide. His lithe fingers, or his wide cock. It didn't matter to you, but you needed him. Your fingers attempted at pleasuring you, but it only caused further frustration. With a exasperated sigh you texted Satoru back.

It's looks so good daddy. Wish you were here. I can't get myself off.

I need cock.

You typed out the messages languidly. There was nothing he could do about it anyway, short of hopping on the next flight. You don't know why you even bothered.

Your phone chimed as you got a response from Satoru.

Need cock?

Be patient bunny. You'll get what you need.

The cryptic messages only angered you more. Couldn't he see that you were suffering without him?

You sat in the bath for another 15 minutes, mind drifting off into a relaxed state. You were half dreaming when you heard the buzzer to your apartment go off.

Your eyebrow quirked up as you shot up in the bath. You weren't expecting anyone. It was after 9 o clock, so you had no idea what kind of surprise guest it might be.

You hopped out of the bath and grabbed your pink silk robe, tying it loosely around your figure. Your hair dripped cold water around your face, causing a shiver to run up your spine. Looking through the peephole you saw a man, one who couldn't be much older than you. He had long black hair that was tied up in a bun, and wore semi formal attire. He donned a long sleeved black button up shirt and black pants. He was attractive, you thought.

Alarm bells aside, you decided to open the door.

"Yes?" You asked, peeking your head out.

The man turned his head to look at you face on. He was even more breath taking than you had realized. His eyes were sharp, and he had nice full lips.

"Y/N?" His deep voice rang.

"Satoru sent me. I'm Suguru."

Your eyes flitted down then back up, assessing his body language. He came off as nonthreatening, but your guard was still up. Before you could further question him, Suguru pulled out his sleek phone and pressed a couple of buttons before handing it to you. Satoru's name was shown on the screen as it appeared to be ringing him.

"Hey man, what's up? Did you find her place okay?" You heard Satoru speak from the other end.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really had sent this stranger to your house. But why?

"Satoru, why did you send this...guy to my house?" You spoke in a hushed tone into the phone, turning your head slightly to give you privacy. Suguru just watched with an amused glint in his eye.

"Aw bunny, you said you needed me right? Well I can't be there right now, so I sent you the next best thing."

"What're you even talking about?"

"You want to be fucked don't you?"

Goosebumps crawled over your skin. That was true, but you meant by Satoru, not a stranger.

"How does $5000 sound?" Satoru asked, noting your silence.

You raised your eyebrows at the amount. He was going to pay you to have sex with his friend?

"That sounds good daddy." You murmured, playing with your hair.

The more you looked at the man, the more attractive he became. He had a similar build to Satoru, but where Satoru's features and energy were light, this man felt dark and mysterious.

"Just record the whole thing and send it to me afterward, how does that sound princess?"

You nodded even though Satoru couldn't see you.

"That's my girl." He said before hanging up.

Your cheeks flushed as you handed Suguru's phone back. He took it from your hand and slid it in his pocket. Without another word you silently stepped to the side, allowing him entrance into your apartment. Suguru looked down at you, grinning and running his tongue along the side of his teeth. A shiver ran up your body as he passed you. His cologne instantly filled your nose. It was a faint spicey scent that made your knees weak.

After he entered your apartment, you closed the door behind him. Nerves were beginning to rumble in your stomach. You hadn't had sex with someone besides Satoru in two years. Suguru walked in and surveyed the place, choosing to lean against your table. You cleared your throat trying to shake your nerves.

"What's your drink of choice?" You asked him, making your way to the kitchen.

"Whiskey." He called out.

Luckily for you, Satoru had gotten you an expensive bottle a couple of weeks ago. It had sat in your cabinet untouched the entire time. You never felt like it was a good time to open it, but you figured now was as good as any.

You cracked the lid open and grabbed a cup for him. The amber liquid poured into the glass, sloshing around as you walked to Suguru. He took it from you and tipped his head back, downing the liquid in one gulp. He maintained eye contact the entire time.

You fiddled with your fingers, anxiety coursing through your blood.

"Um, follow me?" Your voice shook slightly.

You led him to your bedroom. It seemed like he was letting you take the lead in conversation and pace.

Once you got to the room you grabbed your phone and slid open the camera, hitting record. Your eyes slid over to your dresser, finding a good place to set it down in order to film what was about to happen. You bit your lip and turned around, walking to your bed and stopping short in front of it, sliding your robe off. You subconsciously held your breath, your gaze sliding away from him. You were so nervous you didn't know what to do with yourself.

"How should we, um." You mumbled.

From the corner of your eye you saw Suguru's eyes gaze around your body. Everytime Satoru fucked you, he didn't know where to look. He wanted to see it all. But Suguru was taking his time, carefully assessing each inch of your exposed skin. You couldn't tell if it made you feel sexy or self conscious.

Suguru hummed at you before taking a large step forward. You quickly snapped your head up to look at him and he grinned softly. The room was silent, save for your pounding heartbeat, which you were almost positive he could hear.

"Tell me if you want to stop, yeah?" He spoke quietly.

You nodded. Suguru's eyes became hazy as he leaned down and tipped your chin up with his forefinger. He pressed his lips against yours. You moaned into the kiss and grabbed onto him, all your worries suddenly dissolving. There was only desire now. His tongue glided against your bottom lip, quickly parting your mouth. All thoughts from your mind became muddied as you felt him pull your naked body close against him. There was something so thrilling about being completely undressed while he wasn't. His teeth smoothed over your lip making you moan out again.

Suguru walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit your bed. Your hands instinctively clutched his arms to stabilize you, and you felt him smirk against your lips. He began unbuttoning his shirt while you clumsily fumbled with the buttons on his pants. In a matter of seconds you felt his bare body against yours, his clothes haphazardly thrown about your room. His skin felt hot to the touch as he grabbed your waist and helped you sit down. Once he laid you down, his hands trapped you against the bed. His lips traced the sensitive skin on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Whimpers tumbled out of your mouth, ones you couldn't decipher. He seemed to understand just what you needed.

Suguru sat next to your bed and dragged you down by your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. The movement jolted you, making you squeak out. He grinned and spread your lower lips with his pointer and middle finger, putting you on full display for him.

"Satoru was right, you really are pretty." He mumbled before diving in.

His tongue made contact with your clit first, the sensation sending electricity through your veins. A loud moan erupted from your throat as his lips wrapped around your nub and began to suck. His tongue felt like heaven between your thighs, quickly lapping up your wetness only to create more. He slid his muscle into your aching hole and moaned at your taste. At the rate he was going, you weren't sure how long you were going to last. Your hips began bucking against his lips, desperate for any sort of friction. Pleas fell on deaf ears. You begged him to keep going, and you begged him to stop. You weren't sure what you wanted anymore. It felt good. Too good. It felt like you were going to burst at the seams. You were sure you were going to.

Suguru's dark eyes flicked up to you, enjoying your reactions. He could tell you were inching closer to bliss, and what he wouldn't give to see that happen.

"Come on pretty girl, give it to me." He mumbled against your velvety skin.

You felt your stomach tighten and your core contract before you came. Your back arched as you rode out your high on his tongue. It felt like your nerves were on fire.

Your ears rang as you settled back down, breathing hard and looking up at the ceiling. Suguru was giving his best friend a run for his money. Both men were incredibly good at using their tongues, you could only imagine how good Suguru's cock would be.

Black hair came into view as he loomed over you. His eyes dazzled as he watched your post bliss.

"Wanna taste how sweet you are?" He asked rhetorically.

Before you could respond, Suguru's hand reached up and squished your cheeks, parting your mouth. A glob of spit escaped his lips and fell against yours. You quickly drank it like it was liquid gold. The salty taste of your cum mixed with his spit made your head spin. Your eyes silently begged for more and Suguru caved. His lips smashed against yours, taking the breath straight from your lungs. You didn't care. You didn't need it anymore. All you needed was him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down, desperate for more contact. He obliged and closed the gap, pressing his bare chest against yours. Suguru's tongue slid against yours. He pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lust bitten lips.

You placed your hands on his bare chest, pushing him away from you slowly. Suguru raised a brow at you and stood up between your legs. You stared up at him as you sat up, face inches away from his hard cock. The tip was flushed pink, with beads of precum leaking from it.

You stuck out your tongue, licking the underside of his cock as it pressed against his stomach. Suguru shuddered in response. Your tongue traced the sensitive veins, memorizing the shape. You wanted to make him feel just as good as he made you feel. You traced all the way up until you reached the tip, which you eagerly took into your mouth. Suguru sharply inhaled as your warm mouth greeted his cock. It filled your mouth nicely, quickly hitting the back of your throat. It elicited a gag from you, spit dribbling down your chin. He raised one of his hands, gently placing it on your head. He helped guide you back and forth along his cock. Salty precum landed on your tastebuds, making you moan around his cock. You could stay here forever if you wanted to, but it seemed as though Suguru had other plans.

He pulled your head back, watching as a string of spit snapped back disconnecting yourself from him. His hooded hazy eyes penetrated into you as he helped crawl you back further onto the bed.

Suguru's large frame towered over you as you lay beneath him on the bed. His cock nudged between your folds, sending a tingle down your spine. His cock began to slide back and forth between your folds. Everytime it caught on your clit you moaned into his mouth. The sound only encouraged him more. Angry red marks dotted his smooth skin as you dug your nails dug into him. Wetness coated his cock making it easier to slide against you.

Raw, you were going to fuck him raw. And the idea only excited you.

Here was this man you had met less than an hour ago, pressing his hard cock against your most intimate area.

The head of his cock parted you, splitting you open as he carefully slid inside. Your mouth dropped open at the sensation. Suguru looked up at your face as he breathed hard. He could feel your muscles squeezing around his cock. If he wasn't careful he would cum any second.

As Suguru pushed his cock into you completely you threw your head back. He filled you up in a different way than Satoru. Not better or worse, but different. Tears pricked your eyes from the pleasure, moaning out. Suguru looked down and saw how wrecked you looked, and he hadn't even gotten started.

"I understand what Satoru sees in you." He said with a grunt, holding your thighs tight as he thrusted in and out.

You withered below him. All your senses felt heightened. Before you could comprehend what was happening, Suguru shoved his phone in your face. You heard a couple of rings before Satoru's voice carried over the line.

"Bunny?" He asked, as if he was expecting it to be you.

You couldn't speak, only moans escaped your mouth.

"I see you got to work, are you being a good girl and filming?"

"Y-Yes! Oh god." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly." You could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Y-Yes daddy! I'm being a good girl, your good girl." You babbled as Suguru fucked into you harder.

"Hmm, good. How does it feel?" Satoru asked.

"Good, so good." You chanted, squeezing your eyes shut.

You felt Suguru deep inside your walls, each thrust sending a wave of euphoria over you.

"That's good princess. Now, I want you to open your eyes and look at him while he fucks you. Think you can do that for me?"

Your eyes pried open to gaze at the man above you. His hair was much messier with bangs sticking to his forehead. He licked his lips while you stared at him.

"Say my name. Let him know who you belong to." Satoru egged on.

Your eyebrows scrunched up. You knew better than to disobey him though.

"S-Satoru! Belong to Satoru! Holy shit, don't stop please don't stop!" You cried out.

Suguru's face hardened as he pounded into you.

You could feel him as he dragged against your plush walls, stretching you to the brim. His pelvis grinded against your clit each time he pressed into you, only adding to the ecstasy. Thoughts of the camera completely escaped your mind as you only focused on what you were feeling and what was in front of you. You could hardly think, your mind shattering at how good it felt.

"Oh fuck I think I'm gonna-" you moaned.

Suguru wrapped a hand around the back of your head and held onto your hair, tilting your head forward forcing you to look down at where his hips met yours.

"Ask daddy." Satoru spoke.

Your legs shook around Suguru. It was getting hard to hold the phone and focus.

"Please daddy let me cum, I'm gonna cum. Please daddy!" You squealed.

Satoru let out a deep laugh.

"Cum for me bunny, cum on his cock."

You felt the dam break, your muscles clenching and unclenching against his sin. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you dripped in pleasure. Suguru let out a strangled grunt as he felt you cum on him. The sound shot straight to your pussy, immediately beginning to tingle again.

"Shit, so f-fucking tight." Suguru cussed under his breath.

His eyebrows bunched up in concentration as he slammed harder into you. Sensitive, it all felt too sensitive. You squealed out in retaliation, or desperation, you didn't know.

His cock drove in and out of you fast, leaving you no space to think. Satoru was still on the line listening to everything unfold. The idea sent shivers down your spine. You turned your head to look at your propped up phone, knowing it was recording every single thing that happened. Your lips parted as your mouth dropped open. Suguru was hitting some deep part inside of you that made your toes curl.

You continued to make eye contact with the camera, knowing Satoru loved when you looked at him. Suguru's hand reached up as he nudged your face to look back at him. You were met with obsidian black eyes as he penetrated you.

"Look at me." He whispered.

In that moment, you knew this wasn't for the camera. You knew he wasn't even thinking about putting on a show for his best friend. In that moment, he wanted you for himself. He stuffed his middle and ring finger into your mouth, effectively gagging you. Satoru's fingers were longer, but Suguru's were much, much thicker. Salvia began to pool around his digits as you choked, tears quickly filling your eyes.

"That's it, good girl." Suguru mumbled, tipping his head back, looking down his nose at you.

You felt so utterly full on both ends. You didn't know where you ended and where he began. Everytime you felt like you could breathe around his fingers, he shoved them deeper down your throat. You let out a whine, one which became distorted around the thick fingers.

Suguru's breathing became quicker and more labored, you could tell he was close. Your eyes looked up at his, begging silently for him to cum. He groaned out as heat spread through his body. Spurts of cum shot out, immediately filling you to the brim.

You breathed out heavily as Suguru slowly removed his fingers that were drenched in your spit. He maintained eye contact with you as he stuck out his tongue and trailed it along his fingers, licking up your saliva. The sight made you dizzy.

"That sounded like you had fun. Where did you cum Suguru?" Satoru's voice broke the tense silence.

The two of you stared at each other as his cum began to leak from your hole, even though it was still plugged with his cock.

You weren't sure if him cumming inside of you was part of the deal, but it was too late now.

"I think I have an idea." Satoru chuckled, taking your silence as answer enough.

"I'll send the funds over tonight Y/N. You did good." Satoru spoke softly over Suguru's phone.

Your cheeks heated up in pride. You always liked hearing his praise.

You passed the phone over to Suguru who grabbed it, carefully pulling his cock out of you.

The two of you hissed at the feeling. You immediately felt empty once more, craving the stretch again.

"So, where's my reward Satoru?" Suguru asked cheekily, his eyes lingering on your leaking core.

"What, was cumming in her not enough?" Satoru responded with a light laugh.

Suguru rolled his eyes and ended the call with Satoru. He bent over and began pulling his clothes over his body, signaling the end of the night. You couldn't stop staring at his body. It was slick with a light sheen of sweat. How had you never seen this man before? You were beginning to feel grateful towards Satoru for giving you this opportunity.

Once finished with getting dressed, Suguru walked over and leaned down to pick up your phone. He flipped it around, camera facing you and walked up to the bed.

Suguru looked into the screen and leaned down, zooming in on your pussy. Streaks of white dripped out, sliding over your skin. His eyes trailed over your body. A hint of longing passed over his face. He ended the recording and smiled as he handed over your phone.

"I can see myself out. You shouldn't get up too soon." Suguru said smoothly.

You nodded, at a loss for words. He dipped his head down once before exiting your room, and out your front door. It felt like everything had been a dream, ending before you could even comprehend the situation. A shaky breath escaped your mouth as you sunk down further into your bed.

~~~

You were nestled up in your plush blankets, the events of the night replaying in your mind. Your heart still pounded in your ears. You grabbed your phone and flipped through your camera roll, finger hovering over the video. Once you clicked on it, it began playing. Obscene noises filtered through your phone speaker causing your face to heat up. Satoru wanted this?

An alert pinged on your screen.

It was a phone call from Satoru. You cleared your throat and paused the video, clicking the green button.

"Hello?" You asked.

You could hear Satoru's voice on the line. It was laced with exhaustion, with a hint of something else.

"I wanted to call before you went to sleep. How are you feeling?" He sighed out.

The two of you began talking about your day. One of your favorite things about Satoru was how easy he was to talk to. You really enjoyed his company. Your eyelids began feeling heavy, but then the conversation turned over to what happened with Suguru.

"How do you feel about it?"

Heat rushed to your core at the memory being brought up again. You liked Satoru more, but you couldn't deny how it felt.

"It was good. Really good." Your voice stuttered out.

You could hear Satoru chuckle on the other end. His reaction only raised your body temperature.

"Good, I watched it earlier. You looked..." Satoru drawled out. You heard him let out a deep content sigh. You couldn't see it, but he was fumbling with his pants.

You squeezed your legs together as you began to feel throbbing between your thighs.

"Wish you were here daddy." You mumbled.

"Oh? You truly are insatiable bunny. You still need more?"

You whimpered back.

"Go on and touch for daddy."

The sentence alone almost made you moan. You held the phone as you shimmied your shorts down. You could still feel Suguru's essence leaking from you.

Your fingers dragged their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You began circling it, feeling pleasure course through you.

You couldn't help but moan. Satoru listened intently as he pulled his cock out, precum already coating the tip. Although he chided you for it, Satoru was just as insatiable as you. He already came to the video earlier. It was the hardest he had cum in a long time. So hard he had to lay there for 10 minutes until he could feel his body again. But it somehow it still wasn't enough. He began pumping his cock as he listened to your moans.

"Feels so good daddy." You sighed.

Satoru smiled as he stroked his cock. Images of the video flashed through his mind, particularly one scene.

"Suguru came in you, didnt he?" He questioned.

Your gut tightened at the question. He did, and Satoru knew it.

"Yes."

Your fingers sped up as they danced along your clit.

"Smear it around baby." Satoru ordered.

Your face flushed. You reached down to your aching hole and dipped your fingers inside, scooping out the remainder of Suguru's cum. The feeling made you gasp out, as you rubbed the cum on your clit. The sensation made everything more wet and hot. You were using another man's cum as lube while you listened to Satoru, and that turned you on even more.

"I'm not there to spit on it so we'll have to make do." Satoru groaned.

The image of his best friends cum painting your clit shot waves of pleasure through his body. He wondered how it looked, how it felt.

"Tell me bunny, who were you thinking about when he fucked you?" He questioned.

You moaned out, heat creeping up in your cheeks.

"You daddy, always you."

Satoru chuckled and sucked in a deep breath.

"Come on baby, tell daddy the truth. Were you thinking about him? Were you thinking about Suguru?"

Your mouth dropped open, your fingers speeding up.

"Daddy he looked so good, he felt so good. Are you mad? I thought about you too, but he-" You groaned.

"You're so naughty bunny." Satoru lowered his voice.

"I'll make it up to you, I'll give you anything you want. Please don't be mad." You cried out, inching closer to your much needed release.

"Such a good little girl. I'm not mad baby."

Your fingers sped up as they rubbed your clit. You knew you wouldn't last long, especially with the way Satoru sounded.

"Go on, tell me how it felt to fuck him." Satoru's voice hitched.

"So good daddy. I felt so full of him. Stretched me so good. When he came inside I-" You blabbered, feeling your core tighten.

"Yeah? My good little slut. How'd it feel to have another man fill you up nice and full?" He groaned as more precum spilled from his tip.

You whimpered in response, your body overheating. You weren't going to last much longer.

"So so nice daddy. Want him over again. Please daddy, can he come over again? Want him to fill me up while you watch." You begged.

Satoru swore in response. His body shuttered at the thought. He could imagine you on your hands and knees in front of him as his best friend took you from the behind. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure as Suguru's cum filled you up once more. He imagined painting your face with his cum while you were coming down from your high.

That image was all Satoru needed to send him over the edge. His cum shot in spurts all over his hand and lap, so much so that he knew the only way to clean up would be to change all of his clothes and the sheets.

"Yes, yes bunny we can do that." He breathed out.

Hearing Satoru moan was like music to your ears. As he breathed hard you felt your body contract before sending you off into bliss. Electricity filled your body as you moaned out. As you came you felt Suguru's cum seep down your slit and out of your pussy, coating you in it.

Your and Satoru's heavy breathing sounded like a chorus. You never wanted this feeling to end, but luckily you knew for certain it would come again once Satoru came home.

As your thoughts drifted off and your eyes began to feel heavy, you heard your phone chime.

$5000 deposited into your bank account.

"For all your hard work today." Satoru said with a smile.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #TW daddy kink #TW degradation #TW spit #my writing #daddy gojo

[hayakawalove]

Sweet As Sugar

Description: You had been Satoru’s sugar baby for what felt like forever now, so what were you supposed to do when he left you home alone with nothing to entertain yourself? (PART ONE OF MY “Sugar” SERIES)

TW: Daddy kink, reader is referred to as girl, unprotected sex, spit, alcohol mention, readers kind of annoying and a brat LMAO, exhibitionism, voyeurism, readers referred to as a slut once, cumming inside, major cucking, phone sex

A/N: Thank you to @icepopbucky23 for uttering the words sugar daddy gojo to me and @JuicyT for helping me flesh out ideas on Archive of Our Own and @zeninsama for helping me think of things for this fic! They are all super wonderful people, so please check out their work as well!

Part Two

Part Three

Banner credit to @benkeibear

“What am I supposed to do while you’re gone?” You complained loudly.

You were sitting on Satoru’s California king size bed, the name very apt. The high thread count sheets underneath the palms of your hands kissed your skin, beckoning you to cozy up with a blanket.

“I’m sure you can find something to do, hm?” Satoru responded as he packed his suitcase.

He was going on a trip for the week. Ever since you started seeing him, you hadn’t spent a week alone. What did he expect you to do while he was gone?

Your eyebrows furrowed up in frustration as you crossed your arms. You complained more since your arrangement with Satoru started, but in a way he was the one enabling it. He couldn’t help but love it when you got riled up. Satoru turned around and smiled at you. Your bottom lip jutted out, making for a kissable pout. He stopped what he was doing and walked up to you, leaning down with his arms on either sides of you, caging you in.

“Why don’t I send your allowance early? That should keep you nice and busy while I’m gone.” He cooed down at you, pinching your cheek.

You rolled your eyes and swatted his hand away. Getting your money early would keep your hands full, you thought.

~~~

Except, both of you were wrong. You blew through most of your allowance the first couple of days Satoru was gone. Having spent it on ornate jewelry and purses. You only ever used one at a time, but you bought them just because you could. Your favorite thing you purchased was a black lingerie set. It was silky smooth, save for the lace that decorated it. You knew Satoru was going to absolutely love it, maybe even give you a raise. The mere idea sent giddy thoughts straight to your head. You began to ponder what you would spend the money on. A vacation maybe? That could be fun.

Right as you began thinking about where you would go on your metaphorical trip, your phone rang loudly. It immediately snapped you out of your thoughts. You turned the screen over and saw Satoru’s contact pop up.

“Daddy 💗💸🤩”

You hit the big green button and slid the phone to your ear.

“Hey daddy.” You answered with a smile, turning to lay on your stomach.

“Hey, how’s my princess doing?” He questioned.

Satoru was on a business trip, so you were surprised he had the time to call you.

“I’m good, although I already spent all my allowance.” You pouted while playing with your hair.

“That’s too bad bunny, why don’t you be a good girl for me and take some pretty pictures?”

You smiled devilishly, looking to the high end lingerie brand bag. Sending photos of yourself in that was sure to drive him crazy. He always hated looking but not touching.

You bid farewell to each other before hanging up. Jumping up to your feet you shimmied off your cozy night gown and picked up the bag. It was slightly hard to put on at first, but you were able to figure it out after 10 minutes. The fabric flaunted your favorite parts of your body. It was perfect. You walked over to your full length mirror and posed in it as you took pictures. The make up you wore complemented the lingerie, you could only dream of what Satoru’s reaction would be to these pictures. With a sigh you hit send on his contact. You decided to take a bubble bath as you waited for his response.

You hummed to yourself as your body soaked in the lavish bubble bath. Just as you felt your muscles relax into utter bliss you heard your phone chime. Flipping it over you noticed a notification from Satoru. With a grin you opened it up, already knowing what would greet your eyes. A picture popped up on the screen. One that sent all the heat rushing to between your thighs.

Satoru’s body filled up your screen. He stood in front of the hotel mirror with his shirt pulled up. The fabric was held taut between his lips, lips you so desperately wanted between your legs. Your eyes trailed down the plane of his chest all the way to his waist. In one of his hands he held his cock. By the way it shined you could tell precum was dribbling from the tip. It made your mouth water.

A message popped up below the picture.

See what you do to me bunny?

Your legs squirmed and clenched beneath the now-lukewarm-water. Your fingers traveled below your navel and reached your core. A moan escaped your lips as you began tracing your mound. You could feel the slickness from your heat coating your fingers. The feeling only turned you on even more. However, it wasn’t enough. It never was.

You craved the stretch only Satoru could provide. His lithe fingers, or his wide cock. It didn’t matter to you, but you needed him. Your fingers attempted at pleasuring you, but it only caused further frustration. With a exasperated sigh you texted Satoru back.

It’s looks so good daddy. Wish you were here. I can’t get myself off.

I need cock.

You typed out the messages languidly. There was nothing he could do about it anyway, short of hopping on the next flight. You don’t know why you even bothered.

Your phone chimed as you got a response from Satoru.

Need cock?

Be patient bunny. You’ll get what you need.

The cryptic messages only angered you more. Couldn’t he see that you were suffering without him?

You sat in the bath for another 15 minutes, mind drifting off into a relaxed state. You were half dreaming when you heard the buzzer to your apartment go off.

Your eyebrow quirked up as you shot up in the bath. You weren’t expecting anyone. It was after 9 o clock, so you had no idea what kind of surprise guest it might be.

You hopped out of the bath and grabbed your pink silk robe, tying it loosely around your figure. Your hair dripped cold water around your face, causing a shiver to run up your spine. Looking through the peephole you saw a man, one who couldn’t be much older than you. He had long black hair that was tied up in a bun, and wore semi formal attire. He donned a long sleeved black button up shirt and black pants. He was attractive, you thought.

Alarm bells aside, you decided to open the door.

“Yes?” You asked, peeking your head out.

The man turned his head to look at you face on. He was even more breath taking than you had realized. His eyes were sharp, and he had nice full lips.

“Y/N?” His deep voice rang.

“Satoru sent me. I’m Suguru.”

Your eyes flitted down then back up, assessing his body language. He came off as nonthreatening, but your guard was still up. Before you could further question him, Suguru pulled out his sleek phone and pressed a couple of buttons before handing it to you. Satoru’s name was shown on the screen as it appeared to be ringing him.

“Hey man, what’s up? Did you find her place okay?” You heard Satoru speak from the other end.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really had sent this stranger to your house. But why?

“Satoru, why did you send this…guy to my house?” You spoke in a hushed tone into the phone, turning your head slightly to give you privacy. Suguru just watched with an amused glint in his eye.

“Aw bunny, you said you needed me right? Well I can’t be there right now, so I sent you the next best thing.”

“What’re you even talking about?”

“You want to be fucked don’t you?”

Goosebumps crawled over your skin. That was true, but you meant by Satoru, not a stranger.

“How does $5000 sound?” Satoru asked, noting your silence.

You raised your eyebrows at the amount. He was going to pay you to have sex with his friend?

“That sounds good daddy.” You murmured, playing with your hair.

The more you looked at the man, the more attractive he became. He had a similar build to Satoru, but where Satoru’s features and energy were light, this man felt dark and mysterious.

“Just record the whole thing and send it to me afterward, how does that sound princess?”

You nodded even though Satoru couldn’t see you.

“That’s my girl.” He said before hanging up.

Your cheeks flushed as you handed Suguru’s phone back. He took it from your hand and slid it in his pocket. Without another word you silently stepped to the side, allowing him entrance into your apartment. Suguru looked down at you, grinning and running his tongue along the side of his teeth. A shiver ran up your body as he passed you. His cologne instantly filled your nose. It was a faint spicey scent that made your knees weak.

After he entered your apartment, you closed the door behind him. Nerves were beginning to rumble in your stomach. You hadn’t had sex with someone besides Satoru in two years. Suguru walked in and surveyed the place, choosing to lean against your table. You cleared your throat trying to shake your nerves.

“What’s your drink of choice?” You asked him, making your way to the kitchen.

“Whiskey.” He called out.

Luckily for you, Satoru had gotten you an expensive bottle a couple of weeks ago. It had sat in your cabinet untouched the entire time. You never felt like it was a good time to open it, but you figured now was as good as any.

You cracked the lid open and grabbed a cup for him. The amber liquid poured into the glass, sloshing around as you walked to Suguru. He took it from you and tipped his head back, downing the liquid in one gulp. He maintained eye contact the entire time.

You fiddled with your fingers, anxiety coursing through your blood.

“Um, follow me?” Your voice shook slightly.

You led him to your bedroom. It seemed like he was letting you take the lead in conversation and pace.

Once you got to the room you grabbed your phone and slid open the camera, hitting record. Your eyes slid over to your dresser, finding a good place to set it down in order to film what was about to happen. You bit your lip and turned around, walking to your bed and stopping short in front of it, sliding your robe off. You subconsciously held your breath, your gaze sliding away from him. You were so nervous you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“How should we, um.” You mumbled.

From the corner of your eye you saw Suguru’s eyes gaze around your body. Everytime Satoru fucked you, he didn’t know where to look. He wanted to see it all. But Suguru was taking his time, carefully assessing each inch of your exposed skin. You couldn’t tell if it made you feel sexy or self conscious.

Suguru hummed at you before taking a large step forward. You quickly snapped your head up to look at him and he grinned softly. The room was silent, save for your pounding heartbeat, which you were almost positive he could hear.

“Tell me if you want to stop, yeah?” He spoke quietly.

You nodded. Suguru’s eyes became hazy as he leaned down and tipped your chin up with his forefinger. He pressed his lips against yours. You moaned into the kiss and grabbed onto him, all your worries suddenly dissolving. There was only desire now. His tongue glided against your bottom lip, quickly parting your mouth. All thoughts from your mind became muddied as you felt him pull your naked body close against him. There was something so thrilling about being completely undressed while he wasn’t. His teeth smoothed over your lip making you moan out again.

Suguru walked you backwards until the back of your knees hit your bed. Your hands instinctively clutched his arms to stabilize you, and you felt him smirk against your lips. He began unbuttoning his shirt while you clumsily fumbled with the buttons on his pants. In a matter of seconds you felt his bare body against yours, his clothes haphazardly thrown about your room. His skin felt hot to the touch as he grabbed your waist and helped you sit down. Once he laid you down, his hands trapped you against the bed. His lips traced the sensitive skin on your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Whimpers tumbled out of your mouth, ones you couldn’t decipher. He seemed to understand just what you needed.

Suguru sat next to your bed and dragged you down by your legs, throwing them over his shoulders. The movement jolted you, making you squeak out. He grinned and spread your lower lips with his pointer and middle finger, putting you on full display for him.

“Satoru was right, you really are pretty.” He mumbled before diving in.

His tongue made contact with your clit first, the sensation sending electricity through your veins. A loud moan erupted from your throat as his lips wrapped around your nub and began to suck. His tongue felt like heaven between your thighs, quickly lapping up your wetness only to create more. He slid his muscle into your aching hole and moaned at your taste. At the rate he was going, you weren’t sure how long you were going to last. Your hips began bucking against his lips, desperate for any sort of friction. Pleas fell on deaf ears. You begged him to keep going, and you begged him to stop. You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore. It felt good. Too good. It felt like you were going to burst at the seams. You were sure you were going to.

Suguru’s dark eyes flicked up to you, enjoying your reactions. He could tell you were inching closer to bliss, and what he wouldn’t give to see that happen.

“Come on pretty girl, give it to me.” He mumbled against your velvety skin.

You felt your stomach tighten and your core contract before you came. Your back arched as you rode out your high on his tongue. It felt like your nerves were on fire.

Your ears rang as you settled back down, breathing hard and looking up at the ceiling. Suguru was giving his best friend a run for his money. Both men were incredibly good at using their tongues, you could only imagine how good Suguru’s cock would be.

Black hair came into view as he loomed over you. His eyes dazzled as he watched your post bliss.

“Wanna taste how sweet you are?” He asked rhetorically.

Before you could respond, Suguru’s hand reached up and squished your cheeks, parting your mouth. A glob of spit escaped his lips and fell against yours. You quickly drank it like it was liquid gold. The salty taste of your cum mixed with his spit made your head spin. Your eyes silently begged for more and Suguru caved. His lips smashed against yours, taking the breath straight from your lungs. You didn’t care. You didn’t need it anymore. All you needed was him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down, desperate for more contact. He obliged and closed the gap, pressing his bare chest against yours. Suguru’s tongue slid against yours. He pulled away, a string of spit connecting your lust bitten lips.

You placed your hands on his bare chest, pushing him away from you slowly. Suguru raised a brow at you and stood up between your legs. You stared up at him as you sat up, face inches away from his hard cock. The tip was flushed pink, with beads of precum leaking from it.

You stuck out your tongue, licking the underside of his cock as it pressed against his stomach. Suguru shuddered in response. Your tongue traced the sensitive veins, memorizing the shape. You wanted to make him feel just as good as he made you feel. You traced all the way up until you reached the tip, which you eagerly took into your mouth. Suguru sharply inhaled as your warm mouth greeted his cock. It filled your mouth nicely, quickly hitting the back of your throat. It elicited a gag from you, spit dribbling down your chin. He raised one of his hands, gently placing it on your head. He helped guide you back and forth along his cock. Salty precum landed on your tastebuds, making you moan around his cock. You could stay here forever if you wanted to, but it seemed as though Suguru had other plans.

He pulled your head back, watching as a string of spit snapped back disconnecting yourself from him. His hooded hazy eyes penetrated into you as he helped crawl you back further onto the bed.

Suguru’s large frame towered over you as you lay beneath him on the bed. His cock nudged between your folds, sending a tingle down your spine. His cock began to slide back and forth between your folds. Everytime it caught on your clit you moaned into his mouth. The sound only encouraged him more. Angry red marks dotted his smooth skin as you dug your nails dug into him. Wetness coated his cock making it easier to slide against you.

Raw, you were going to fuck him raw. And the idea only excited you.

Here was this man you had met less than an hour ago, pressing his hard cock against your most intimate area.

The head of his cock parted you, splitting you open as he carefully slid inside. Your mouth dropped open at the sensation. Suguru looked up at your face as he breathed hard. He could feel your muscles squeezing around his cock. If he wasn’t careful he would cum any second.

As Suguru pushed his cock into you completely you threw your head back. He filled you up in a different way than Satoru. Not better or worse, but different. Tears pricked your eyes from the pleasure, moaning out. Suguru looked down and saw how wrecked you looked, and he hadn’t even gotten started.

“I understand what Satoru sees in you.” He said with a grunt, holding your thighs tight as he thrusted in and out.

You withered below him. All your senses felt heightened. Before you could comprehend what was happening, Suguru shoved his phone in your face. You heard a couple of rings before Satoru’s voice carried over the line.

“Bunny?” He asked, as if he was expecting it to be you.

You couldn’t speak, only moans escaped your mouth.

“I see you got to work, are you being a good girl and filming?”

“Y-Yes! Oh god.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“What was that? I don’t think I heard you correctly.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Y-Yes daddy! I’m being a good girl, your good girl.” You babbled as Suguru fucked into you harder.

“Hmm, good. How does it feel?” Satoru asked.

“Good, so good.” You chanted, squeezing your eyes shut.

You felt Suguru deep inside your walls, each thrust sending a wave of euphoria over you.

“That’s good princess. Now, I want you to open your eyes and look at him while he fucks you. Think you can do that for me?”

Your eyes pried open to gaze at the man above you. His hair was much messier with bangs sticking to his forehead. He licked his lips while you stared at him.

“Say my name. Let him know who you belong to.” Satoru egged on.

Your eyebrows scrunched up. You knew better than to disobey him though.

“S-Satoru! Belong to Satoru! Holy shit, don’t stop please don’t stop!” You cried out.

Suguru’s face hardened as he pounded into you.

You could feel him as he dragged against your plush walls, stretching you to the brim. His pelvis grinded against your clit each time he pressed into you, only adding to the ecstasy. Thoughts of the camera completely escaped your mind as you only focused on what you were feeling and what was in front of you. You could hardly think, your mind shattering at how good it felt.

“Oh fuck I think I’m gonna-” you moaned.

Suguru wrapped a hand around the back of your head and held onto your hair, tilting your head forward forcing you to look down at where his hips met yours.

“Ask daddy.” Satoru spoke.

Your legs shook around Suguru. It was getting hard to hold the phone and focus.

“Please daddy let me cum, I’m gonna cum. Please daddy!” You squealed.

Satoru let out a deep laugh.

“Cum for me bunny, cum on his cock.”

You felt the dam break, your muscles clenching and unclenching against his sin. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you dripped in pleasure. Suguru let out a strangled grunt as he felt you cum on him. The sound shot straight to your pussy, immediately beginning to tingle again.

“Shit, so f-fucking tight.” Suguru cussed under his breath.

His eyebrows bunched up in concentration as he slammed harder into you. Sensitive, it all felt too sensitive. You squealed out in retaliation, or desperation, you didn’t know.

His cock drove in and out of you fast, leaving you no space to think. Satoru was still on the line listening to everything unfold. The idea sent shivers down your spine. You turned your head to look at your propped up phone, knowing it was recording every single thing that happened. Your lips parted as your mouth dropped open. Suguru was hitting some deep part inside of you that made your toes curl.

You continued to make eye contact with the camera, knowing Satoru loved when you looked at him. Suguru’s hand reached up as he nudged your face to look back at him. You were met with obsidian black eyes as he penetrated you.

“Look at me.” He whispered.

In that moment, you knew this wasn’t for the camera. You knew he wasn’t even thinking about putting on a show for his best friend. In that moment, he wanted you for himself. He stuffed his middle and ring finger into your mouth, effectively gagging you. Satoru’s fingers were longer, but Suguru’s were much, much thicker. Salvia began to pool around his digits as you choked, tears quickly filling your eyes.

“That’s it, good girl.” Suguru mumbled, tipping his head back, looking down his nose at you.

You felt so utterly full on both ends. You didn’t know where you ended and where he began. Everytime you felt like you could breathe around his fingers, he shoved them deeper down your throat. You let out a whine, one which became distorted around the thick fingers.

Suguru’s breathing became quicker and more labored, you could tell he was close. Your eyes looked up at his, begging silently for him to cum. He groaned out as heat spread through his body. Spurts of cum shot out, immediately filling you to the brim.

You breathed out heavily as Suguru slowly removed his fingers that were drenched in your spit. He maintained eye contact with you as he stuck out his tongue and trailed it along his fingers, licking up your saliva. The sight made you dizzy.

“That sounded like you had fun. Where did you cum Suguru?” Satoru’s voice broke the tense silence.

The two of you stared at each other as his cum began to leak from your hole, even though it was still plugged with his cock.

You weren’t sure if him cumming inside of you was part of the deal, but it was too late now.

“I think I have an idea.” Satoru chuckled, taking your silence as answer enough.

“I’ll send the funds over tonight Y/N. You did good.” Satoru spoke softly over Suguru’s phone.

Your cheeks heated up in pride. You always liked hearing his praise.

You passed the phone over to Suguru who grabbed it, carefully pulling his cock out of you.

The two of you hissed at the feeling. You immediately felt empty once more, craving the stretch again.

“So, where’s my reward Satoru?” Suguru asked cheekily, his eyes lingering on your leaking core.

“What, was cumming in her not enough?” Satoru responded with a light laugh.

Suguru rolled his eyes and ended the call with Satoru. He bent over and began pulling his clothes over his body, signaling the end of the night. You couldn’t stop staring at his body. It was slick with a light sheen of sweat. How had you never seen this man before? You were beginning to feel grateful towards Satoru for giving you this opportunity.

Once finished with getting dressed, Suguru walked over and leaned down to pick up your phone. He flipped it around, camera facing you and walked up to the bed.

Suguru looked into the screen and leaned down, zooming in on your pussy. Streaks of white dripped out, sliding over your skin. His eyes trailed over your body. A hint of longing passed over his face. He ended the recording and smiled as he handed over your phone.

“I can see myself out. You shouldn’t get up too soon.” Suguru said smoothly.

You nodded, at a loss for words. He dipped his head down once before exiting your room, and out your front door. It felt like everything had been a dream, ending before you could even comprehend the situation. A shaky breath escaped your mouth as you sunk down further into your bed.

~~~

You were nestled up in your plush blankets, the events of the night replaying in your mind. Your heart still pounded in your ears. You grabbed your phone and flipped through your camera roll, finger hovering over the video. Once you clicked on it, it began playing. Obscene noises filtered through your phone speaker causing your face to heat up. Satoru wanted this?

An alert pinged on your screen.

It was a phone call from Satoru. You cleared your throat and paused the video, clicking the green button.

“Hello?” You asked.

You could hear Satoru’s voice on the line. It was laced with exhaustion, with a hint of something else.

“I wanted to call before you went to sleep. How are you feeling?” He sighed out.

The two of you began talking about your day. One of your favorite things about Satoru was how easy he was to talk to. You really enjoyed his company. Your eyelids began feeling heavy, but then the conversation turned over to what happened with Suguru.

“How do you feel about it?”

Heat rushed to your core at the memory being brought up again. You liked Satoru more, but you couldn’t deny how it felt.

“It was good. Really good.” Your voice stuttered out.

You could hear Satoru chuckle on the other end. His reaction only raised your body temperature.

“Good, I watched it earlier. You looked…” Satoru drawled out. You heard him let out a deep content sigh. You couldn’t see it, but he was fumbling with his pants.

You squeezed your legs together as you began to feel throbbing between your thighs.

“Wish you were here daddy.” You mumbled.

“Oh? You truly are insatiable bunny. You still need more?”

You whimpered back.

“Go on and touch for daddy.”

The sentence alone almost made you moan. You held the phone as you shimmied your shorts down. You could still feel Suguru’s essence leaking from you.

Your fingers dragged their way to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You began circling it, feeling pleasure course through you.

You couldn’t help but moan. Satoru listened intently as he pulled his cock out, precum already coating the tip. Although he chided you for it, Satoru was just as insatiable as you. He already came to the video earlier. It was the hardest he had cum in a long time. So hard he had to lay there for 10 minutes until he could feel his body again. But it somehow it still wasn’t enough. He began pumping his cock as he listened to your moans.

“Feels so good daddy.” You sighed.

Satoru smiled as he stroked his cock. Images of the video flashed through his mind, particularly one scene.

“Suguru came in you, didnt he?” He questioned.

Your gut tightened at the question. He did, and Satoru knew it.

“Yes.”

Your fingers sped up as they danced along your clit.

“Smear it around baby.” Satoru ordered.

Your face flushed. You reached down to your aching hole and dipped your fingers inside, scooping out the remainder of Suguru’s cum. The feeling made you gasp out, as you rubbed the cum on your clit. The sensation made everything more wet and hot. You were using another man’s cum as lube while you listened to Satoru, and that turned you on even more.

“I’m not there to spit on it so we’ll have to make do.” Satoru groaned.

The image of his best friends cum painting your clit shot waves of pleasure through his body. He wondered how it looked, how it felt.

“Tell me bunny, who were you thinking about when he fucked you?” He questioned.

You moaned out, heat creeping up in your cheeks.

“You daddy, always you.”

Satoru chuckled and sucked in a deep breath.

“Come on baby, tell daddy the truth. Were you thinking about him? Were you thinking about Suguru?”

Your mouth dropped open, your fingers speeding up.

“Daddy he looked so good, he felt so good. Are you mad? I thought about you too, but he-” You groaned.

“You’re so naughty bunny.” Satoru lowered his voice.

“I’ll make it up to you, I’ll give you anything you want. Please don’t be mad.” You cried out, inching closer to your much needed release.

“Such a good little girl. I’m not mad baby.”

Your fingers sped up as they rubbed your clit. You knew you wouldn’t last long, especially with the way Satoru sounded.

“Go on, tell me how it felt to fuck him.” Satoru’s voice hitched.

“So good daddy. I felt so full of him. Stretched me so good. When he came inside I-” You blabbered, feeling your core tighten.

“Yeah? My good little slut. How’d it feel to have another man fill you up nice and full?” He groaned as more precum spilled from his tip.

You whimpered in response, your body overheating. You weren’t going to last much longer.

“So so nice daddy. Want him over again. Please daddy, can he come over again? Want him to fill me up while you watch.” You begged.

Satoru swore in response. His body shuttered at the thought. He could imagine you on your hands and knees in front of him as his best friend took you from the behind. Your eyes rolling back in pleasure as Suguru’s cum filled you up once more. He imagined painting your face with his cum while you were coming down from your high.

That image was all Satoru needed to send him over the edge. His cum shot in spurts all over his hand and lap, so much so that he knew the only way to clean up would be to change all of his clothes and the sheets.

“Yes, yes bunny we can do that.” He breathed out.

Hearing Satoru moan was like music to your ears. As he breathed hard you felt your body contract before sending you off into bliss. Electricity filled your body as you moaned out. As you came you felt Suguru’s cum seep down your slit and out of your pussy, coating you in it.

Your and Satoru’s heavy breathing sounded like a chorus. You never wanted this feeling to end, but luckily you knew for certain it would come again once Satoru came home.

As your thoughts drifted off and your eyes began to feel heavy, you heard your phone chime.

$5000 deposited into your bank account.

“For all your hard work today.” Satoru said with a smile.

#my writing #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Picnic Dates, plus two - Dr James Wilson x peds!reader

Description: You've got a lunch date, but it's not with James.

word count: 1.8k

Masterlist

REQUESTS OPEN FOR PEDS!READER - request here

Y/n skipped down the halls of peds, smiling to herself. Each room she passed she waved to the patients inside. Holly, Trevor, Milton, Magnus, Bea, Molly, Jo, Josh. She knew all their names and knew how they should look, so that if anything was even slightly off she could spring into action.

She reached the last of the rooms on the hallway and pulled out a pink glitter file from her stack. Truthfully, she wasn’t allowed to decorate her patients files, but it turns out if you are not swamped with malpractice lawsuits and actually have a good bedside manner with your patients, Cuddy can be quite lenient.

“Hello y/n!” the little girl jumped up from her bed showing off her finding nemo pyjamas. Her blonde curls fell in front of her face, being batted away by her tiny hands.

“Good morning, Lisa! And how are you doing this fine day?”

“I good!”

“Can you give me anything more specific?” Y/n teased, raising her eyebrow.

“I feel really, really, really, really well!”

“I am so pleased to hear that Lisa. I am just going to do a quick examination, not that I don’t fully trust your own medical degree.” Lisa laughed and her parents lovingly looked at how happy their daughter seemed despite her condition. That was all down to y/n.

Lisa had become a regular of the hospital, brought in many times with asthma attacks so severe each trip to the hospital seemed to be a death sentence. Every time, y/n was there so Lisa could wake up to a familiar face. Stroking her hair and talking to her so she didn’t have to come to terms with her scary surroundings.

As y/n went to leave the room she was stopped by Lisa’s mum.

“Hi Dr y/l/n, I just wanted to say thank you.”

“It’s nothing, it’s my job.”

“No, it’s not. Examining her, diagnosing her, that’s your job. No one’s making you sing her songs or play her games. So…thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Y/n left the room, her heart feeling just that bit warmer seeing that little girl babble to her parents about everything that was in her tiny head. She felt a presence next to her and her heart practically set on fire when her eyes met his.

“Hi.” It was soft, like she was sharing a secret.

“Hi. How’s Lisa doing?”

“She’s doing well, she’ll be home this afternoon. Just in time for SpongeBob.” Wilson raised an eyebrow. “Her favourite.”

“Now, remember last week when we went to that deli in the town over and you loved that sandwich. Well, I went to the shops and got all the ingredients and made us two of your sandwich with chips, coleslaw, and everything. My office, 12?”

A sorrowful look crossed her face, and she seemed to retreat into her mind.

“You have other plans—it’s fine, enjoy.”

“Believe me, that sounds amazing and usually I would love to but—I can’t.” Wilson nods but his gaze is on the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets. She grasped his arms in a silent question that he is okay with this. He covered her hand with his own.

“I’m okay.” Despite feeling unsatisfied with his answer, she picked up her files and made her way down the corridor. Every few moments she turned back around to look at the oncologist who now was weakly kicking at the floor.

---

The door to House’s office slams open.

“At what point in each marriage did my wives start retreating from me.”

“Catherine of Aragon, 3 years, and 4 months. Boleyn, 2 years, and 11 months.”

Wilson falls down onto the chair in his friends office.

“Please don’t call my ex-wives that.”

“I’m a history buff, what can I say, Henry.” House smirks.

Ignoring the ill-placed humour, Wilson continues.

“My point remains that they were all after a lengthy period of time—”

“And/or directly after you cheated.” He looks towards House’s smug face, disapprovingly.

“But neither of them were after 2 months.”

“Trouble in peds, oh I’m sorry paradise.”

“I don’t really know. It just feels like she doesn’t want to spend time with me.”

“Well, she is a paediatrician, so every day she meets people more emotionally mature than you.”

“Ha ha. Just today she blew me off for lunch, and, thinking about it we haven’t had lunch together at the office in a week. What if she’s pulling away? What if she doesn’t love me anymore?”

“What if she’s busy?” House still refused to look up from his Gameboy.

“She’s not, I checked. She just has 10 patients she’s monitoring, none of which are severe.”

House paused his game. “You checked her files? I’m rubbing off on you. Boy wonder oncologist, we may have found your bad bone yet. Maybe we should get a noun to replace your last name as well.”

“I’m going to confront her.” Wilson abruptly stood up and opened the door.

“The word you’re looking for is communicate.” Wilson went to leave. “WAIT! Wilson-“ House picked up the phone “It’s for you. It’s God. He say’s you’re bad at relationships.”

Wilson angrily left the room and slammed the door which echoed with the cackles of his best friend.

---

Y/n opened the door to leave her office, armed with a pasta salad and an iced coffee.

“Do you want to break up?”

Y/n was startled by her flustered boyfriend who had jumped out in front of her.

“What? No! Why would you think that? I love you of course I don’t want to leave you.” She reached up to cup his cheek and used her thumb to stroke under his eyes.

“I can’t believe you were thinking that! I can’t believe I made you think that! Oh, baby I’m so sorry.” After her rambling she threw her arms around his neck, ladening his neck with so many kisses as way of apology. Wilson chuckled before completing the hug and squeezing her waist.

She pulled back from the hug.

“Why did you think I wanted to leave you?”

“Well, lunch. You didn’t want to, again, and we haven’t had lunch together in about a week. And in all my past relationships, there comes a time when they start to retreat,” He scratched the back of his neck “I just thought it had come sooner than usual.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, I couldn’t.”

She bit her lip and tried to find the right words before blurting out. “I’m seeing a 12-year-old.”

Wilson simply couldn’t find the words.

“Please—”

“Oh, not like that. Come with me.” She took his arm and began to lead him to the elevator.

---

They stood in front of the window that showed a boy, small for his age, curled up on the hospital bed playing with two power rangers. His room was devoid of balloons, toys, cards: the decorations that covered every other peds room.

“That’s Lucas. He came in last week with pneumonia. He’s on antibiotics and he’s improving. His dad died when he was 2 and his mum works constantly to make enough money. She can’t visit him a lot, she only managed 2 visits last week. He’s never even left his house. And now he only knows two things: he’s sick and he’s alone. This hospital can look like a big scary place when you’re a kid so –”

“So, you eat lunch with him every day so he has at least one visitor.” Her boyfriend finishes her sentence flawlessly.

“I’ll bet you even tell him that you choose to be with him, probably say that all the other doctors are boring.” She laughs at how well he knows her. She steps back from the window and pushes open the door.

“Lucas, there is someone very special I want you to meet. This is Dr Wilson.”

Lucas perks up at seeing, not only his favourite doctor, but also another boy enter the room.

“Is he your friend, Dr y/l/n?”

“Yes, he is, he’s my special friend.”

“Mummy always said Daddy was her best friend. Do you love him like my mummy loved my daddy.”

“Observant kid.” Wilson quietly remarks.

“What do you have for lunch today, Dr y/l/n?”

Y/n sits down on Lucas’ bed. “Actually, Lucas, today Dr Wilson and I have—"

“Have to tell you that I took over Dr y/l/n’s clinic hours so she can have 3 more hours to spend with you. She’s been nagging me to have more time with you for weeks!” He rolls his eyes jokingly. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

She turns away from Lucas to mouth ‘Thank you’ towards him. In return he waves as if to say see you later.

---

the next day

“I have the tickets, Thursday night!” House limped down the hallway flanked by his exasperated friend.

“Can’t.”

“Liar. Your girlfriend’s ignoring you so unless you’ve already found the next next potential Mrs Wilson, you’re free!”

“Actually, we –”

“Boys!”

Y/n slid into the two’s line of vision. Her pink scrubs not as cheery as her smile. Wilson quickly checked his watch.

“y/n/n, baby, isn’t Lucas waiting.”

“Who’s Lucas? You guys open now?”

“Actually, he gave me a message to give to you two. He told me to invite to lunch, and I quote, ‘your boyfriend and the mean cane guy he’s always with’”.

Wilson beams at how chipper his girlfriend seems at this news.

“Wait, both of us? You two into foursomes now? I mean I respect it.”

Rolling her eyes at House’s comment. She grabs the two by their arms and drags them to the ‘lunch’ room. They stop in the doorway, seeing Lucas who was looking into a gigantic bag of food but who quickly retreated sheepishly when he was caught.

“I retract my previous joke.” House looks down, embarrassed. He goes to approach the boy but is halted by a pressure on his ear as it was held by the smiling paediatrician. She yanks him back to her and harshly whispers “Be. Nice!”.

“Yes ma’am.” Happy with this response, she releases him. She then turns towards her boyfriend. “I even managed to get an order in from that deli. Do you like it?” she fiddles with her fingers nervously.

“Yes. Very much so.”

She skips towards Lucas but is brought back by Wilson’s hands on her waist. They turn so they are nose to nose.

“I love you.” “I love you too.”

Before their lips could touch they are interrupted.

“Ew gross!” they glare towards the bed to see that the juvenile remarks are not coming from the 12-year-old but rather the overgrown 8 year old.

---

The four ate lunch and talked and each managed to bring back a little joy for the bed ridden child. Even House slowly warmed and began to care for the boy. Every so often y/n would get up to check his stats but also to fluff his pillows, bring him his toys and juice. She cared so deeply and wanted every child who passed through her care to feel special and heard.

Wilson sat back and watched the scene unfold, happy to be an observer. And as he watched the woman, he loved be a mother for a child who wasn’t even her own, he couldn’t help but imagine her with their own.

—-

Props to anyone who spots the joke about one of Robert Sean Leonard’s other films ;)

#james wilson x peds!reader #james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #dr james wilson #house x wilson #dr house #house #house md

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hi so wednesday x reader who is basically itadori who has sukuna inside of them and has already eaten 2 fingers hope its not too complicated

This was a whole lot of words and none of them were probably even what you wanted.

Your an absolute sweetheart who could do no wrong nor harm a fly. Sure you could seemingly outrun a fucking cheetah but other then that there wasn’t anything unusual about that anyone could make by staring at you.

Only until you point out the two occasions where you had swallowed two of the twenty fingers of an all powerful king of curses. That earned you a few unconvinced stares until a sharp tongued mouth and a demonic eye appeared in tandem just under your cheekbone, spouting curses and death threats towards each and every one of your friends. Fun.

The demonic bastard ruined your perfectly normal life and made you an outcast in your old school, which you were then bullied out of the entrance doors by the kids you went out of your way to save and then sent away to Nevermore by your parents who had grown deathly scared of the monster within you that threaten to re decorate the walls of your home with their blood, use their internal organs for decorations and finally utilise their hollowed out heads as lamp shades/candle holders.

Weems was notified by the most notable names of the potential danger you could unintentionally bring upon the school should the king of curses continue to use you in his hunt for the remainder of his fingers and retaining every ounce of his long forgone and mythologised power.

So with two of the twenty fingers haven been swallowed, you were already too much of a problem for Weems and Nevermore but she knew that if she left you out into the streets of Jericho and the king of curses happens to greet everyone with his own eyes, Nevermore would be finished indefinitely when word got out that she sent you away because you were too much a danger to human life to be allowed in. So much so the entire town of Jericho was slaughtered because it.

So in order to satiate her growing fear, Weems tasked the nightshades to keep tabs on you and make sure that your…demonic friends didn’t come out to play. However after the first week of no evidence of you being a massive danger to the school. The nightshades -minus Xavier and Ajax because they went out of their way to befriend you during this time- didn’t see what Weems was so worried about and left you be to do their own thing that they would’ve liked to have been doing in the first place.

So when the one time that you did loose control to the king, Ho boy he was no at all entertained by the so called secrete society that was meant to keep tabs on him. That when Ajax and Xavier were about to head down to the library the saw you or what they thought was you standing near the Poe statue; almost as though you heard them breathing you moved to look them in they eye and that’s when they begun to know why Weems was so afraid. The person staring back at them wasn’t you but the king of cursed himself.

“Shouldn’t have let your guard down Nightshades,” he spat venomously as he threw Kent at their feet to see that his pendant had been obliterated to pieces much like his face was, “this is your line of defence against threats? How pathetic, I shouldn’t have to be trying this hard to maintain my presence within this body but this punk is stronger then I originally thought them out to be.” The king spat as he felt your tugging at him getting stronger by the second as he felt his time quickly slip away.

So before he could allow you to take this moment away from him, the curse stared at the two frightened boys and heeded a them a grave warning. “I shall come back for blood, for this puny moron couldn’t ever hold me back like this forever because one day, oh-ho one day, I shall slaughter every man, woman, child and how many others in this school and in Jericho.”

Once you had regained control, Ajax and Xavier were quick to realises that the black tattoos on your body also faded away. Weems told them that you had only swallowed two fingers and they were already shitting themselves at what you/the king of curses could do if you swallowed just one more if you/him were already able to hand Kent his ass on a silver plater at just two fingers. Ajax dragged Kent to the nurses office whilst Xavier carried you back to your dorm which you didn’t have a roommate as for their safety more so then yours and camped outside your dorm until the next morning.

Ever since Ajax and Xavier have been the only two nightshades to keep an eye on you 24/7. So when Wednesday came to school. She noted that there was something odd about you that she just couldn’t put her finger on. At the comment a mouth and an eye appeared just under your cheek bone, glaring/snarling angrily at her. “What did you just say about me you freaky little meat bag?!” You slapped a hand on the mouth to shut the curse up and looked at the addams apologetically. “I’m so sorry it’s just that I ugh, it’s a stupid story really so I’ll cut you the embarrassing part and tell you that I’m now the host of a potentially powerful curse king.”

“Potentially?! You piece of shit, I AM POWERFUL! I am the fucking King of curses!” The mouth then reappeared on the back of your hand as it boldly shouts to the heavens of it’s title. “Shut the fuck up!” You hissed at the mouth as you threateningly brought out a some sour candy juice spray from your back pocket. “Don’t make me fucking use this on you again!” The curse hissed in distain like a cat but disappeared back into your skin.

“He really hates this stuff, one time I missed my mouth by a long shot and it sprayed into his eye and he wouldn’t stop screaming for hours on end.” You laughed at the memory of the powerful king of curses howling in pain over a misjudged projectile of sour candy spray. You secretly hoped you didn’t ruin anything but were already preparing to move away if you had, however once you had prepared to move elsewhere Wednesday asked, “where are you going?”

“I’m…leaving you be as I don’t want him to hurt you or anyone else in this school and I don’t if you’ve heard but, I’ve already lost control once and almost killed Kent during my blackout.” You told her truthfully but she still looked unfazed by all that you’ve just said. “And?” She asks and that was when you were beginning to worry about her mental state. “And I don’t want you to be nearby incase I do black out and he does come out again.”

Wednesday looked you over before saying with confidence, “you look in control to me, so I have nothing to fear until later events and even then I wouldn’t run away as I would merely find some way to detain you until you regain consciousness.”

“She’s most certainly an interesting one, worm. Then again it must be a trait that every Addams descendant must’ve acquired at birth or something.” The curse told you that night as you were brushing your teeth, “one of ‘em got this close to actually ending me.” “How close again was it?” You asked, the curse groaned “I said this close.” The eye under your cheek bone then began to bring it’s lid down until you could just barely make out the eyelashes that were tickling your skin before it burst back open again.

“Did you catch it this time you twerp?” The curse asked you through the mirror. “Yes I did the first time actually but you were stupid enough to believe me and do it again for a second time.” You snarked back as the curse groaned at how he got duped but you told him to have it in the morning as you were already tired enough as it was and went immediately to bed and fast asleep the moment your head hit the pillow.

The closer you got with Wednesday the more it seemed that the curse also noticing the attachment you were forming with her. So on the occasion the curse would threaten to take over and kill her last so that when you woke up, you’d see her dead body in your bloody arms. Yet you’d always bite back that he had every opportunity to make that moment a reality for you but never did, you went as far as to call him chicken shit but the curse would just offhandedly told you that it unfortunately wasn’t time yet for that.

So whilst you waited for ‘that time’ you and Wednesday began having dates in cemeteries, crypts could abandoned house and so on with the king of curses being a nuisance now and then by popping up now and then in hopes of ruining your moment but to his dismay you had the sour candy spray on hand and would always spray it into his big mouth, where it hit him in the back of his throat and for the rest of your date you were forced to listen to him scream and cough overtly loud in reverb within your consciousness all the while you tried to remain outwardly unaffected.

Wednesday knew that you/the king of curses were a dangerous game but she was always drawn to those types of games but she would always make sure that you wouldn’t be taken over so easily like before. She also knew that the while you were conscious, the king was also conscious but to a lesser extent. His power flowed through you at a weaker rate then it did within himself which meant that when you were fighting to regain control, not only were you reliant on your own willpower but you were also somewhat reliant on a small portion of him that didn’t seek to fight those he was obviously on a whole other level then.

The curse was growing ever more intrigued by Wednesday and sooner or later abstained from his usual barbs with her in favour of doing to towards the likes of Ajax or Xavier who, in his opinion, were more fun to to scare shitless then you or Wednesday seeing as you’ve grown numb to his threats or too cocky in your ability to pull yourself back into consciousness. So he merely watched from within you, make his barbs before leaving to scheme for the day where he would finally obtain full control without your pretty interferences. One day, you, Weems, the nightshades, Nevermore and Jericho will rue the day that you dared crossed paths with the king of curses for it shall be your last.

Thornhill was already planning ahead in helping the king curse within you by tracking down the remaining fingers, then soon she’ll be on to her second phase which is to giving you the fingers then thirdly, allowing the king of curses to be able to create pure unadulterated chaos.

#wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams x you #Wednesday x you #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday fanfic #Wednesday fic

[gloryofroses19]

Midnight Memories

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fiancée!reader

T/W: Allusions to sex

“You should wear this and only this,” was the first thing [y/n] said as she came upon her fiancé in the kitchen. Bradley Bradshaw had the body and confidence to pull off anything. Laughing to herself, the future Mrs. Bradshaw mused how that apparently extended to her stolen worn out college t-shirt and a pair of hideous heart decorated pink satin boxers. 

Putting his bowl of cereal on the countertop, Bradley shimmed his body for her with utter abandonment. They had parted in their bedroom after testing if the bath could in fact fit two people. With science and his fiancée satisfied, Bradley left [y/n] in the bedroom as he went in search of clothes and found this outfit. His things were haphazardly packed and dispersed among various incorrectly labeled boxes. He had claimed it was because of the two detachments and their wedding being a month away, but he knew [y/n] had her doubts. 

“Should I be jealous that you’re wearing an ex’s present?” [y/n] asked with a raised eyebrow as Rooster took a bite of his Froot Loops. 

“They’re actually a gift from my mom.” Pausing to take another bite, [y/n] took the opportunity to move in closer. “Carole Bradshaw always loved a bargain and thought these discount Valentines boxers were a necessary purchase.” 

“Well clearly, have you seen your ass?” Punctuating her statement, [y/n] placed a loving smack to his ass. 

Abandoning his spoon, Bradley gave her a warning smile before he picked her up and placed her on the countertop. Slotting himself between her awaiting thighs, Bradley took in their shared surroundings. Their starter home was a three-bedroom ranch style house with a deck and large backyard in San Diego. Though overrun with boxes due to the late arrival of furniture, it already felt like home. 

Looking at the mantle, Bradley felt tears rush to his eyes at the intermingling of their photos. He felt the familiar rush of love for [y/n] because of the care she took to organize it. She gave each photo the proper care and attention as if to show gratitude to people who got them to this point in their life. Even going as far to put the last photo he took with Maverick. Although not visible, it was still there like the influence Maverick still had on his life despite their Cold War. The mantle was completed by the center display case. Inside the display case was the F-18 his father gave to him before he died. For their one-year anniversary, [y/n] had it repainted and fixed after the years of wear and tear. He appreciated how she understood his sentimentality towards the object that reminded him of his father and helped foster his dreams and the man he was today.  

Noticing the mist overtake Bradley’s chocolate eyes, [y/n] wrapped her arms around his wide shoulders. “You okay?” Playing with the baby hairs at the base of his skull, [y/n] watched as he blinked the tears away. 

Breaking his revelry, Bradley turned his attention to his love. “Yeah, just thinking about how much I love you.”

Returning her own sentiment of love, [y/n] then wrapped her legs around his waist drawing him nearer. “Our kitchen chairs are the only furniture we do have, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’d be so far away and then I can’t do this.” With a flash of a boyish grin, Bradley crashed his lips into [y/n]’s. His tongue slips inside mouth, gentle but demanding but [y/n] does little to stop him and instead smiles at the remnant taste of sugary cereal on Bradley's tongue. 

Breaking too soon for her liking, [y/n] chased Bradley’s lips. Allowing her to brush her lips against his, Bradley mumbled the song lyrics that had been swimming in his mind. “I was a lost boy when I met you.” 

Because he was a lost boy when they met. He was proud of his career in the Navy, despite an unexpected beginning resulting in four years spent at UVA and a poli-sci degree. He worked his way up from a petty officer to a naval aviator. A lieutenant that graduated top of his class at Top Gun by his own merits with hopes that he made his parents proud. But Bradley found it hard to find a place to land safely after his only remaining family member betrayed him.

That is until he met [y/n]. He knew [y/n] was always going to be there to welcome him back and love him, even when an ocean apart. It’s why he chose this home for them. Bradley was forever grateful for [y/n]’s support in his career despite knowing how his constant leaving was hard for them both. He chose this home for its location with the knowledge that one day he would happily retire as a father and become a Top Gun instructor. Close to the San Diego naval base and a two-hour drive from Top Gun, he could be home to see his future wife and child before they’d outgrow it because of the baseball team worth of children he planned to have.

In recognition of the song, [y/n] knotted her fists in his shirt and pulled him harder against her. The action caused Bradley to groan softly, low in his throat. He continued to kiss her, each time with increasing urgency, cupping her face between his burning hands. [y/n] had first played this song for him the night of their first date. Stealing his AUX cord after they returned to the car, wet and out of breath from playing in the surf, [y/n] promised him a band that she knew he would love. And she was right. The synthwave music of The Midnight became the playlist for his nostalgia for 1980’s music, car ride sing-a-longs and shared listening parties with [y/n] when separated.

Between shuddering breaths, [y/n] breathily asked. “Take me to bed or lose me forever.” 

“Show me the way home, honey.” With the taste of her still on his lips, Bradley secured his arms around her thighs and walked them down the hallway to their bedroom. 

A/N: Fun fact, ever since writing my first Bradley work, I’ve tried (and failed) to incorporate The Midnight's music because I just know he would love them. Thank you again to everyone who's still reading my work!

Taglist: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @shaded-recs @n3ssm0nique

#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun imagine #top gun maverick x reader

[leelei1980]

Loving Mr. Munson

Part 10- New Routines

🛑Smut Warning- Mature Content- 18+ Minors DNI🛑

Taglist: @tlclick73 @fairymunson @micheledawn1975 @elegantkoalapaper @goth-cowgirl-03 @bmunson86 @retrorage86 @hideoutside @veemoon @emmyshortcake @oneforthemunny @erinekc @babyloutattoo89 @amberolivia666 @eddiesxangel

If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know!

Reader:

Beep.Beep.Beep

You groaned as you rolled over and hit the snooze button. Eddie was holding you close in his arms, his face nestled into your neck. A smile spread across your face as you listened to his soft snores in your ear, felt him grind against your ass as he slowly started to wake up. You backed up into him and you felt the hand that had been holding you slide up from your waist and grab onto your breast .

" Mmm, Baby, it's time to get up." You said savoring this feeling, wishing that you could stay in bed just like this with Eddie all day.

He chuckled into your ear, nibbling on it and said." In case you haven't noticed, Sweetheart, I am already up." He rutted into you.

Since moving in with Eddie you have had to make a few changes to your morning routine, which meant waking up an hour earlier to allow for a few moments of cuddling and sometimes a quickie before getting out of bed, shower time, dressing time than off to work. Your drive in took a little longer than before, since you were further away from your office but you didn't care, the past couple of weeks had been amazing.

You loved living with Eddie, you loved waking up with his arms around you every morning, going to bed and falling asleep with your head on his chest every night, the sound of his strong heartbeat and his breathing lulling you to sleep. You loved coming home at the end of the day to music playing, dinner prepped and a glass of wine for you on the counter . Most nights he would greet you at the door,enveloping you in his arms and kissing you like he hadn't seen you in forever, other nights he would be standing at the stove, wearing his low slung lounge pants, tank top and completely tuned in to the music playing, in his own little world. You would walk up behind him, wrap your arms around him and greet him with a kiss to his neck, his collarbone , his should and he would melt back into you. You would finish cooking together, eat your meal than retire to the living room, watch tv or take turns reading chapters from The Lord of the Rings series. You loved it when it was his turn to read, he was dramatic, did voices for all of the Characters and you could listen to him read aloud all night if given the opportunity.

Even shopping with Eddie was fun, you would walk up and down the aisles, hand in hand , make him smell candles to make sure he approved the scent, He kept his promise about picking out a new comforter and fancy decorative pillows and throw blankets, the Munson house now looked a tad bit softer, than it had before.

Your alarm sounded again and you sighed turning it off."Baby, I've got to get up and take my shower."

" Are you sure?"

"Yes Baby, I'm sure."

" Can I join you?" He kissed your neck and slid a hand under the band of your panties, running a finger along your slit, then circling the sensitive bud inside. " I'm feeling a little dirty."

You moaned as he slid a finger inside you, and then another .." Mmmmm, Eddie-"

" If my calculations are correct," he murmured into you ear as he pumped his fingers inside you. Your breath hitched." You don't need to leave until 7:30. That gives me plenty of time to make you cum. "

" Shower, now," you breathed, he withdrew his fingers and kissed your cheek. You threw the blankets back and ran into the bathroom, Eddie right behind you.

He lifted your camisole up over your head and threw it to the floor , then started kissing every inch of your body that was exposed .

" Eddie!" You squeaked and he drew a nipple into his mouth." I have to, to turn on the shower-"

He pulled away with a pop, smirking. You felt him slide your panties down as you leaned over to turn the tap on, then felt a slap on your ass cheek that made you moan and sent your body into a tizzy. You stepped into the shower and pulled him in.

Eddie showed great restraint as you washed your hair and your face, knowing that you were in a time crunch he kept his hands off you, knowing that you had to momentarily stay on task. He kept himself busy running a bar of soap over his upper body, you watched as his hands glided over his chest, his well toned abs, you couldn't look away as you lathered your hair-

" Sweetheart, my eyes are up here."

You snapped out of your daze and looked up to see him smirking, his wet hair dripping and now super curly. You had been with Eddie now for months and you still couldn't get over how amazing, how beautiful his body was.

" I was just making sure that you were washing thoroughly." You smirked.

" Is that so?" He soaped up his hands than started stroking himself,biting his lip.

You felt your jaw drop" Jesus Christ..."

" That better,Princess? Clean enough for you now?"

" Fucker." You smiled then rinsed the soap out of your hair.

His laugh echoed off the shower walls .

Two can play this game, you grabbed your shower pouf and squirted some body wash on it, lathered it up then started washing your breasts, letting your hands glide slowly over your slippery skin.

You watched his dark eyes widen, saw his tongue glide over his lips, like you were a snack he was about to devour.

You rinsed again , this time he joined you under the warm stream of water.

He kissed you, needy, feverishly his hands sliding along your skin. He held on firmly to your hips and turned your body so that you were now pinned between him and the wall of the shower .

Now that you were where he wanted you ,he lined himself up with your entrance and slowly slid into you , stretching you. You both groaned.

You wrapped your arms around him as he fucked into you, pressing you into the wall. Small whimpers spilled from your lips as he thrusted, fast and hard.

" It feels really fucking good doesn't it? Are you going to cum for me Darling? My squeaky clean girl going to get dirty?"

" Y-yes," you cried as he pounded into the sweet spot inside you, so deep, so full." I'm so close, so fucking close" you felt his hand between your legs, thumb circling your clit. You gasped as you let go, letting the wave of pleasure wash over you. "Eddie-"

You heard a rumble deep in his throat , felt his hips thrusting sloppily, and you knew the telltale signs of him reaching his release. He panted then buried his face in your neck, you felt him shiver.

" Are you cold baby?"

" Just my back, just a little."

" Baby, get under the water and warm up."

" I will, in a minute." Eddie kissed the tip of your nose, then your lips. " The way your eyes watched me as I cleaned myself, so fucking hot Sweetheart."

" Even with the soap in my hair?" You chuckled.

" Abso-fucking-lately. Then when you started washing your tits-"

" Total goner."

He slowly backed away and tilted the shower head so that it was spraying the two of you, warming you back up.

" As much as I hate to, I need to get out and get dressed." You sigh.

Eddie flashed a wolfish grin ." Need any help?"

" If you 'helped' I would never get out of here!" You stepped outside the shower and wrapped up in a towel, Eddie turned off the tap and did the same. " Look at that Doll, " he pointed to the clock on the bathroom wall, " 20 minutes to spare. "

" Your a man of your word Mr.Munson." You smiled as you watched him towel dry his hair, his curls out of control.

" I always keep my promises Sweetheart. Tonight , after dinner , I'll make love to you again, so slowly that you'll be begging me for more, you know ,to make up for the hasty fuck in the shower."

" You don't have to make up for anything Sir, that hasty fuck was incredible." You brushed out your hair. " I'm going to be distracted all day at the office thinking about it."

" Yeah, but it wasn't my best work."

" You are a perfectionist. I'm looking forward to it." You winked.

He smiled and wrapped his arms around you."Have I told you yet today how much I love you?"

You leaned in and kissed his soft lips. " I love you too, Edward Munson."

" Ooo, Edward , usually people only call me Edward when I am in trouble." He smirked." Tell me Sweetheart, have I have been a naughty boy?"

" I could treat you like one," you trailed a finger down his chest." Later tonight, if you wanted me to."

" Yes, fucking YES!" He sighed." Now I'm going to be distracted at work all fucking day today."

" That's too bad." You teased, then kissed the tip of his nose. " Now be a good boy and let me get dressed please, so I'm not late for work?"

" Yes Ma'am."

As always thanks for reading! Comments and Re-blogs are ALWAYS welcome and appreciated❤️

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie munson blurb #dilf!eddie munson

[tomtenadia]

Detours to you - 19

Hello all,

I am off on holidays to Lisbon tomorrow for a few days to celebrate my bday so I will leave you with a new chapter. It's Maya's bday too (she is a January girl like me).

Hope you will enjoy the fluff

MASTERLIST

A week elapsed and Maya’s birthday had finally arrived. They had waited until the Saturday for the celebrations and Aelin had closed the shop for a day so they could host the party there. They had invited her parents, Lys and Aedion, Elide was coming on her own since Lorcan was on shift, a few kids from the school that Maya liked and Rowan had the day off but was on call. Aelin just hoped nothing would interrupt the day. He needed a day of celebrations. His week had been hellish. She had accompanied him to the funeral of his three firefighters and had seen how broken he had been. Rowan had been grieving and had been so busy with the investigation that she worried about him. 

Now he was at home with Maya while she was at the bookshop getting it ready for the party.

They had gone for a mix theme of hockey and space. Rowan had started teaching her basic astronomy with the telescope he had gifted her and Maya had fallen in love with it.

A knock came at the front door and she saw her parents. Aelin invited them in with a hug “Hi mum, and dad.”

“Hi Aelin, where’s the birthday girl?”

“Rowan will bring her here as soon as I gave him the okay that the shop is ready.”

Evalin walked around the shop and looked at the decorations “This looks lovely.”

Rhoe looked at the space decorations and Aelin walked up to him “Rowan had been teaching her about the stars.”

“I know,” her father added “She is actually teaching me all about it now.”

Aelin laughed “she is teaching me too.”

“I brought a lot of biscuits and a cake too.” Added Evalin, showing her daughter the box she was carrying. 

Aelin grabbed the containers with food and placed them on the table that they had set up..

“Mum she will love your cake, it has the perfect level of chocolate.”

Evalin laughed “I also have a box for Rowan. I know he is not a fan of sweets so I made him the orange oatmeal biscuits that he loves so much.”

Aelin thanked her mother and she knew that she had always had a special place in her heart for Rowan.

Lysandra, Aedion and Elide arrived not long after together with the other few guests. She had texted Rowan that it was time to bring Maya. When later on he texted her that they had parked the car and walking to the shop, the group had switched off the lights and got ready for the surprise.

Rowan walked with his daughter on his hand and at the shop, he used the key Aelin had given him. As soon as they were inside, the darkness got replaced by a starry sky and slowly the people appeared and Aelin walked to her daughter and Rowan was at her side “Happy birthday, Maya.”

Maya hugged them both and then looked at the stars “mama your shop has stars.”

“Yes, baby, do you like it?”

“I love it so much.”

Slowly they turned up the lights and allowed her to see all the guests.

“Nana.” Maya ran to her grandparents.

“Happy birthday, my love, you are a big girl now.”

“Yes, nana I am six.” She proudly lifted her fingers.

Aelin encouraged the kids to gather in the children section where they had created a corner for them. She had also organised a story telling session with cake after the presents. But most of all, she was looking forward to see the present she got from her and Rowan. They had bought her first bike. She knew Maya was going to love it.

Rowan walked to her side “you have done a wonderful job with the bookshop. The starry sky  is perfect.”

Aelin leaned her head against his shoulder “You should see my mum’s hockey themed cake.”

“She will feel like the queen of the world today.” His arms wound around Aelin’s waist and pulled her closer “she is definitely my princess.”

“I found this young lady running around, does anyone know her?” Aedion was carrying Maya potato sack style and the girl giggled at her uncle antics “Dad save me, the dragon has taken me.”

Rowan laughed and followed the two, pretending to fight Aedion while he growled.

One of the mums walked at her side “He is so good to her.”

Aelin nodded while sipping her juice.

“You know that at school he has won the title of DILF, right?”

Aelin knew. The news had reached her and a lot of the mums had a crush on him. It had pissed her off to no end and she had been jealous too. Just as she was jealous of Lyria. The whole relationship between them was still very frail, they had not set on a label but she wanted to be possessive. Rowan was hers.

“I know and I hate it.”

“My husband was their target until Rowan came up. I know how you feel.”

“I hate them and that Remelle woman and her son caused so much grief to Maya.”

The woman gave a nervous laugh “I had my running ins with Remelle. She almost messed up my marriage with her lies.”

“Mama, we are opening presents!” Maya walked to her grabbing her hand to drag her where all the presents were gathered. 

The adults they all sat down and Aelin took Maya where all the gifts were, and started to hand out all the parcels. 

“Ok birthday girl, let’s open up a few present, shall we?”

Maya started jumping up all excited “Yes! Yes! I want the presents!”

They started with the ones from her school friends then it was then time of Elide and Lorcan who had bought her a pass for the observatory and then a limited edition jersey of the Stags. Maya ran to hug Elide. Lorcan could not be present because he was working  “Thank you auntie Elide. I love it.” 

“Mama, can I wear it?”

“Not yet, after cake maybe but not now. We don’t want to ruin it with chocolate.”

“Ok.”

Aelin placed the item of clothing aside and grabbed a present she knew was from Aedion and Lysandra. They had gifted her a super special edition book of Terrasen folktales and then her own hockey stick with the Stags colours.

Maya screamed happily and grabbed her stick swinging as if she was playing “I am playing hockey!”

They all laughed and Maya kept playing happily until Rowan pulled her back to attention for her grandparents presents who had given her a tent for her bedroom that had a space theme and then a projector for her bedroom so she could project the sky in her room.

“Nana and I thought they would be nice for the days you can’t go out in the garden. So you can have the sky in your room.”

Maya ran to her grandparents and hugged them tightly “Thank you.”

“Come on now, you have the last one from us.”

Maya walked back to her parents and Aelin and Rowan sat down beside her and Aelin handed her a small packet. When she struggled Rowan helped her opening it and she looked at her present with a curious face. Rowan lifted the passes “Maya, this is a ticket for a special event the Stag are doing and meeting the fans.”

Maya looked at her dad with big green eyes “Dorian too?”

Rowan caressed her face “yes baby, we are going to meet all the Stags again.”

She threw herself at her dad and Aelin moved closer brushing her back. They remained in silence while they cuddled their daughter then Rowan pulled back “we have one last surprise for you.” He passed Maya to her mum and walked at the back of the shop. When he came back he was pushing a green bicycle and Maya ran to him “Is it for me?”

“Of course,” he grabbed her hand and helped her sit on. The bike still had stabilisers and Rowan showed her how to use the pedals and within minutes Maya was cycling, with a fussy Rowan hovering over her.

“I think you guys topped her presents. Aeds and I tried to give her a cool one.”

“Lys, your presents were great as well.”

Lysandra stared at Rowan with Maya “He is so cute with her.”

Aelin nodded.

“So, are you getting married next?”

She chuckled “Elide asked me the same thing a while ago.”

“Because you both have made some strides and are improving, that is the next logical step.”

Aelin was silent for a moment “As I said to El, we are not there yet. For now, let’s all concentrate on your wedding.”

“Mama look, I am cycling.”

Aelin looked at her daughter on her bike and smiled. Rowan had approached her one day saying that Maya had mentioned about having a bike like the other kids. He said that he wanted to teach her and Aelin had agreed. She loved that Rowan had involved her too after the hockey classes fiasco. Classes that were going to start next week and their daughter was the most excited person ever. 

“You are doing so well, Maya.”

They were all in the middle of having cake when Rowan’s radio became alive. Everyone fell silent and he grabbed it running away to a quiet corner.

Aelin watched him with a tightness in her chest. She knew he was on call and that if an emergency happened he’d have to leave. She just hoped that for one day Orynth would have no drama so he’d be able to celebrate his daughter’s birthday in peace. It was the first one for him and she wanted it to be special for both.

He came back at the front and she knew from his face that it was not good. She had forgotten how easily she could read his expressions “What is it?”

“I need to go. I am sorry.”

Aelin hugged him tightly “Be careful, please.” A soft whisper against his neck, the scent of pine and snow soothing her soul “Come back to me. To us.”

Rowan kissed her on her lips and pulled back, kneeling in front of Maya “I have to go to work and help people.” His heart broke at Maya’s wobbly lip “I will see you later at home, baby.”

Maya threw her arms around him and softly sobbed.

“Happy birthday, my love.”

Rowan then forced himself to stand and take a step towards the door. He cast a last glance at the party and then walked out in a run.

Aelin watched Rowan go.

There was an ache in her chest. An ancient fear rising in her. It was the anguish she had felt when he was on active duty and a regular firefighter. Waiting for him to come home after his shift and knowing he was safe. Aelin had accepted the dangers of his job the day she had confessed him she was in love with him. 

Gods, she loved him. She had to tell him. She let him go to his job without telling that she loved him.

Aelin prayed Mala to bring him back to her.

I will come back to you.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity  @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @backtobl4ck @susumaus98  @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love  @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #rowanwhitethorn #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin galathynius #rowaelin kids

[bitchsister]

What have you done to me. what was their first date like (modern Lucky Charms au) xoxoxoxoo

PELASEEE yall love them hehehehe but so do I…

So yes. Let’s go. 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Their first “date” is that very same night.

But Curt would later insist it didn’t count.

Bucky had been well aware inviting a stranger to his home that he’d just met only an hour earlier seemed like the start of a perfect case file, slapped right onto his desk.

“You don’t always go to strangers homes when they invite you, do you?” He’d paused in the kitchen where he’d been gathering ingredients for the real food he’d tempted Curtis with. “S’dangerous.”

Curt had been exploring Bucky’s living room, connected to the open layout of the kitchen, which he just couldn’t seem to believe the sight of. White marble countertops, old oak bookcases packed to the gills with literature, and modern lighting.

“You rich, or somethin’?”

Bucky snorted.

“I’m a defense lawyer.”

“Well, what the hell does that mean?”

Bucky walked the sparkling floor into the living room, a handful of berries held in his palm. “It’s the answer to your question.” He shrugged, offering a berry to Curt by holding it in front of his lips.

Accepting the offer, the warmth of his tongue engulfed Bucky’s fingertips for only a half second — and it’d totally been on purpose. “You ain’t even told me your name yet.”

“Haven’t.” Bucky whispered, fighting the incessant urge to shove the fingers Curt had just put his lips against into his mouth, and down his tight throat. “I haven’t told you my name yet.”

Curt unhinged his jaw again, another berry popped into his mouth by Bucky who simply couldn’t resist giving him everything he wanted — already, they’d developed a silent language of their own.

“My name is John, but everybody calls me Bucky.”

“Even your clients?”

“Yeah. Even my clients.” Bucky pulled a business card from his back pocket and flicked it toward Curt before he made his way back into the kitchen to pick up where he’d left off.

Bucky Egan

Attorney at Law

“Why they call ya Bucky?” Curt asked as he plopped down into a leather barstool at the center island, taking in the decoration there as if it’d tell him a bit more about the man he allowed to take him home. “You fuck a lot?”

The sound of Curt’s growling stomach could be heard across the room, and there was an immediate need that had already lived within Bucky to please him, and rid him of his hunger.

“Guess we should have bought a snack, huh?” Bucky bent over to search inside the fridge, and to hide his burning cheeks, hardly hearing footsteps clad in socks that crept up behind him, blue eyes staring back when he finally turned back around.

“What’s your deal?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why’d you bring me here? To your house.”

The question was valid, and warranted, but the last thing Bucky had wanted to do was admit to Curtis that he’d had a burning ache and desire to care for him the moment he laid eyes on him.

Sleepy, stressed, stoned out of his mind.

Hungry, and settling for hard-to-reach breakfast cereal.

Bucky shifted from one foot to the other, “To make you dinner.”

“And?”

“And..?”

“Is that really it?” Curt took another step forward, a contagious grin flashed up at the stranger who’d driven him to his lavish home in the suburbs where most houses were occupied by families of four or five, not one guy picking up a broke college student at the grocery.

Bucky had always been one to wander the path less traveled.

“Do you not want dinner?”

“Yes. I do. But — that’s the only reason, hm?” Curt eyed the paintings within gilded frames upon the walls, many depicting the male form. One, or two, or three within the same frame. “I don’t look like any of your paintings.”

“You haven’t told me your name.”

“Curt.”

Bucky took another step even closer. “Right. Well.. No, Curt. You don’t look like any of my paintings.” He drawled, another berry held against Curts parted lips that was immediately accepted, along with Bucky’s fingers right down to the joint where he sucked them like it’d cure his hunger. “You’re like nothin’ I’ve ever seen.”

#💌 #curtbucky #I love them! #they seem filthy #Yoyo writes #lcau

[rasparagus]

just for you

pairing: vernon x gn!reader

summary: how you got to be vernon’s lockscreen

word count: 630-ish

It’s one of the rare occasions when Vernon just has an entire free day so you both agree for him to stop by your place in the morning so you can spend a full day of lounging and lying lifeless on your couch together. When you hear his soft knock on your door, you rush to open it for him, your socks slipping a bit in your haste. As you let him in you see he has a small white bag in his hand, the label on the side revealing he’d made a recent trip to the electronics store. You silently point at the bag with a curious expression as soon as he sets it on your table. 

“Just a little gift for you.”

“It’s not my birthday or an anniversary…” Your eyes narrow as you think of a reason for the present. He squints back at you to mock your suspicious expression. It’s not that Vernon only gives you things on special occasions, but he normally prefers to give you gifts when you’ve explicitly told him you want something, and you don’t recall dropping any sort of hints. You peek in the bag and gasp as soon as you see what’s inside. It’s a pair of headphones identical to the ones hanging on his neck, except yours are white while he sports a black pair. 

“Damn,” the simple, yet effectively expressive word erupts from your chest. He snickers at the way you excitedly grab the box and examine every inch of it like it’s your greatest new treasure. “How’d you even know to get these for me.” You look up at him with wide and bright eyes.

“You literally complain about your current ones all the time. Plus, I know you like to sleep with music, and these won’t fall out as easily as your earbuds.” He moves to open the box for you. “The sound quality is insane, too—just listen. It’s like the instruments are in your ears.” As he removes the item from its packaging for you to test them, you get a sudden idea. Without a word you go half-run, half-glide to your room and return with a hefty plastic box. 

“What’s that for?”

“Help me decorate them,” you say. You open the box to reveal neat, divided piles of charms, gems, and stickers. He raises an eyebrow at you but complies nonetheless, taking a seat beside you at the table.

The new Netflix show that you and Vernon had originally intended to watch is miles behind you now as the two of you listen to your shared playlist and stick on small hearts and cartoon characters to the large surface of the headphones. 

It takes a while, for the two of you stop often to ask the other:

This one’s cuter if it’s crooked, right?

Should I break up the pink with some blue or keep it monochrome?

Does this cross rhinestone look too out of place?

 When it seems adequately covered, Vernon holds them up, allowing you both to survey your masterpiece. 

“Cute,” you smile, propping your head up against your fist as you lean on the table and declare a job well done. Vernon puts the headphones on your head, pushing a few hairs back in the process.

“Cute, indeed.” He grabs his phone and quickly takes a burst of photos before you can even think to stop him. You lean over to see the pictures he took, only to see him setting a picture to his lockscreen. It’s one from the second you realized he was snapping a photo, and you’re pouting in it.

“It’s time for yours now,” you joke and lightly kick his leg with your socked foot. To your surprise, he removes his headphones from their home on his neck and sets them on the table. “Vernon, I was kidding. We don’t actually have to do yours.”

“Oh, word?” he asks, laughing at his own misunderstanding. “Well, I kinda wanna do it, still.” You smirk.

“Ok so do you want Hello Kitty stickers or Gorrilaz stickers?” you question, already rummaging through the bin. 

 a/n: well. this is my first official seventeen fic post. as this is my first one it would be really appreciated if you left feedback (good, bad, or otherwise) either via reply, reblog, or asks! i hope you were able to enjoy this and i hope i can write many many more. xoxox

love, ro

#vernon x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #vernon scenarios #vernon fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen drabbles #vernon drabble #ro's.fics