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suncoved · 8 months

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STOP IT RAFE, YOU'RE BEING MEAN! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; bestfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary; rafe has a strict rule that if you ever leave anywhere, you tell him. and when you break that rule, he goes ballistic (bsf!rafe cameron x reader)

warnings ; angst! verbal fighting, angry!rafe, kinda mean rafe, theyre both annoyingly oblivious.. warning this did not turn out how i planned it to be but im also not mad at it, idkkkk

to say you were bored was an understatement.

it was a regular rowdy saturday night in the outerbanks, this nights party being at a random kooks house on the figure eight whose name you couldn't quite remember

you were nursing a forgotten red solo cup of punch in your hand, crowd-watching to pass the time.

it wasn't normal that rafe actually succeeded in convincing you to come to these things. because as much as you liked chatting with spoiled self-absorbed kooks over disgustingly sweet punch, you'd rather stay cuddled up in your fluffy pyjamas and watch sappy romcoms on rafe's couch.

but nevertheless, here you were. dreading every decision you had ever made up to that point as you watched rafe from across the room. a blonde kook girl climbing over him and straddling his hips, sitting on his lap as he smirked.

you knew you really had no right being mad at him because you weren’t dating.

but from the start of your more than 10 year friendship, rafe made it clear that you were and always will be his.

so why didn’t that rule go both ways?

with all the thoughts bouncing around in your head, you failed to hear a certain blonde pouges voice echo around you.

you snapped out of your state, consciousness returning to your mind as a hand was waved repeatedly in your face.

“hey! you there princess?” a smile adorned the boys face, a ratty snapback placed backwards on his blonde hair.

“yeah, jj. right here” you joked, smiling brightly back at him as you brought your cup up to your lips.

“thought we lost you there for a bit princess? what’d you doing standing here all alone?” jj asked, surprised to see your constant kook king shadow nowhere to be seen.

“just people watching, the usual. where’s kie?” you quickly changed the subject, wanting anything to get your mind off of rafe.

“around here somewhere i hope. gonna’ try to round everyone up to we can get outta here. early morning for us cut goers tomorrow, fish to catch and things to steal” you giggled at his joke, earning an even wider grin on his face.

you always liked jj. you thought he was funny, and he was the most loyal person to his friends that you knew. and despite his manic tendencies, you trusted him.

“have a nice night j. drive safe!” you said, watching him wink at you before he disappeared into the crowd.

with jj gone, you were left to your own thoughts agian, which was never a good thing.

you glanced over again at rafe sitting comfortably on the couch on the deck. the light from inside illuminating his face as he leaned over to the table, picking up a small bag of white powder and handing it to a random touran.

you bit your lip as you noticed the same blonde from before clinging to his side, rafe seeming unbothered but making no move to push her off.

god, you couldn’t even imagine how rafe would react if he saw you speaking to jj earlier. so why is it that he can literally let a girl dry hump him in the middle of a party and you shouldn’t care?

you didn’t know why you cared though, because rafe is you best friend, nothing more.

right?

you didn’t have time to think about that right now though, you just needed to get the fuck out of this party right now or you were gonna explode.

an idea clicked in your brain and jj dragged a drunk john b towards the entrance of the house, kiara and pope following quickly behind.

you decided that this was now or never, placing your red solo cup onto a random table as you walked towards them.

“hey jj!” you called out, his head immediately snapping towards you. “you think you could give me a ride home?”

it was nearly 30 minutes later that rafe noticed you were no longer in your spot in corner of the house. business was coming to a halt as he sold his last few grams of cocaine, a heavy wad of cash safely resting in his back pocket.

his eyes scanned the crowd for your face, but you were no where to be seen.

and rafe was starting to freak the fuck out.

he knew you wouldn’t go upstairs to any bedrooms, or go out for an impulse swim in the pool. and he knew most of all that you wouldn’t just leave without telling him, and the notification box in his voice remained empty from your contact.

he ran his hand roughly through his hair, pulling aggressively at the roots and cussing to himself frustrated.

his eyes widened as he saw your friend in the crowd, interrupting what ever useless conversation she was having, because until he knew you were safe, nothing was more important.

he asked rudely where you were, watching as her face morphed into shock that rafe was talking to her. because well, if it’s not plotting on the pouges or selling drugs, rafe doesn’t interact with anyone but you or his friends.

“i-i im not sure. i saw her leave like a bit less than half an hour ago. i thought she told you, she always does”

rafe clenched his jaw, hundreds and thousands of thoughts running through his head. “was she alone?”

“n-no. she was with that jj guy and his friends” your friend murmured, nervous she was ratting you out to the scariest guy in the whole of kildare.

it was safe to say that rafe was fucking pissed.

it took him less than a few seconds to put his keys into the ignition of his jeep and drive illegally fast to your house. you liked to piss him off often when you were in a mood, but never with your safety.

rafe never fucked with your safety, ever.

he murmured venomous cusses to himself and he walked towards your house, the pebbles from your mothers perfect drive way crunching under his feet as he speed to your door.

he made a beeline to the entrance of your home, the white arches welcoming and the doorway dimly lit by the porch lights.

he planted his feet straight on the 'welcome home' door mat, lifting his balled fist up to the door and sending booming knocks to the wood panel.

his knuckles were white as he clenched his fists so hard together there was sure to be crimson-red crescent indents from his fingernails. he was fuming.

the click of the lock releasing from the door snapped him out of his thoughts, the door handle turning and the lobby of the inside of your house quickly coming into view.

he locked eyes with your figure immediately, a pink fluffy towel in your hand as you dried your hair. you were only wearing a pair of long socks and rafes shirt which reached more than halfway down your thighs, your face bare of makeup.

you jumped as you saw the look on his face, an anger prevalent in his stare that you had never seen directed at you. fuck. you were in some deep shit.

you parted your lips to speak, but nothing seemed to come out. for the first time in your life, you were scared of rafe. not that he was going to harm you physically, no, never that.

but you knew how much he cared about you and your safety. you just wished he cared that much about your feelings. you wanted him to see that.

"rafe" you said, your voice coming out as a whisper as you watch the lines on his forehead crease together as thousands of thoughts ran through his head.

"what the fuck were you thinking?" he spat as he pushed you as softly as he could into the house so he could close the door, worried the cold of the night was going to make you shiver.

you didn't have time to answer before he started again, running a hand roughly through his hair as he huffed. "you just left? you fucking left a party at night without even texting me, and you let that fucking pouge drive you home!"

you rolled your eyes at the last statement, this was all about jj? "so that's all you care about? me going home with a boy i've known since third grade who just so happens to live on the cut? you don't give a shit about me, you just care about this stupid kook pouge rivalry!"

"don't say what you know isn't true ma. you know i care about you more than i care about myself." he stated, nearly all the anger in him draining out as he saw your eyes begin to fill with tears. he couldn't handle seeing you cry.

"how do i know you care about me rafe? because you don't seem to show it." you sighed pushing yourself as far away from him as you could, your back pushing up against the wall.

"don't fucking say to me y/n. i've loved you from the moment i met you." you finally stopped looking at the floor, lifting your chin so you made eye contact with him.

"stop it rafe, you're being mean" you whispered, mostly to yourself more than rafe. you couldn't listen to him say how much he loved and cared about you for one more second. not when you still had the picture of him being essentially dry-humped in the middle of a party by a girl you didn't even know.

"ma i love you. you know that. you're my world, my favourite girl. why are you fighting this?" rafe said, trying to hold you wrist in his hand before you quickly pulled it away.

"bec-because you can't just say all this then turn around and have make outs with other girls right in front of me. it-its not fair." you spoke, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks in steady streams.

rafe physically flinched at your statement, his palms getting sweaty and his heart rate increasing into rapid beats. was he actually going to admit his love for you right now, like this?

"what are you saying y/n?" he asked, his voice cracking as his face fell. his mind racing with how many outcomes could come out of this conversation.

"that i love you, you idiot!"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst

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whensecretsrise · 5 months

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The monster adoption fair was like nothing you could imagine. It was massive. Feeling as though it stretched on forever. Creatures ranged from mundane to outlandish. Rows upon rows of were-creatures- be it wolves or cats, naga or foxes or great feathered birds and more- all nestled safely within their kennels. A sign directed the way to where the centaurs, minotaurs, and satyrs were kept. You barely gave it a glance before turning down the next row. Tanks held merfolk and sirens, some muzzled for safety, and a number of amphibian and reptilian creatures. One tank in particular seemed impossibly large. The water in it so dark you weren't sure what could be inside. That was until a great suckered tentacle brushed along the glass.

Your heart kicked against your chest at the sight of it. Half primal fear, but the other half. Well, there wasn't any use dwelling on it. There was no way you could imagine what caring for something that large would take.

You wander deeper, giddiness welling inside you. The background checks you had to pass, the rounds and rounds of interviews you had to go through to prove that you would be a responsible owner. All of that and more was worth it to be allowed entry into the fair.

There was a temperature change in the next room you entered. Everything was warm enough that you were already starting to sweat before taking even a dozen steps inside. Demons, incubi, succubi, and plenty more beyond that all stared out at you through their glassed enclosures. The glass was thick enough that you couldn't hear their words, but the way they moved, so languid and sensual, had a blush rising to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the heat. The temperature slowly lowered as you approached the far end of the room. The creatures in those enclosures were more insectoid. Joints that seemed to bend the wrong way, appendages stranger than any you'd seen before. You couldn't help but pause to watch their twitching movements and how they traversed the structures in their enclosures. Beyond those lay more familiar creatures. Giant bees. Wasps with their wings beating so fast you were sure you could hear their buzz. Moths that had left a fine coat of powder from their wings on the glass. After a moment of awe you move on.

The temperature in the next room was considerably lower. A much welcomed respite from the heat. More tanks and enclosures filled this room. Your heart began to speed for you had made it to the room you had come for. Slimes of all sizes and colors pressed against their glass. There were plenty of humanoid slimes with big, soft eyes and coy smiles, but that wasn't what you wanted. You brushed past the larger tanks with barely more than a second glance. A smaller companion was what you were seeking. Something that wouldn't take up too much space, but was easy to cuddle with if you wanted.

You carefully inspected a number of tanks. Some of the slimes gave off a faint glow while others shimmered under the lights. There were even some that seemed to change from one color to another as they moved. Each one had a small description plate in front of it detailing habits, temperament, enrichment suggestions, and more besides. The wiggling masses within regarded you with varying levels of interest.

One, however, immediately perked up when you approached it. It was a beautiful pearl white that sparkled with golds and pinks. It swarmed against its glass, pressing itself as close to you as it could manage. Tentatively you placed a gentle hand against the glass. Doing so wasn't allowed, but you couldn't help the way it was drawn to you. A trickle of warmth passed through the glass and a wave of calm washed over you. This was it. The one you would take home had claimed you for its own.

You quickly scribbled down your guest number on the provided card, and took a copy of the creature's location card. The slime remind pressed against the glass as if watching you work. It was only when you began to walk away did it shrink back down to the bottom of its container.

It took a while to locate a staff member among the vast network of rooms and the other visitors of the fair.

"I would like to adopt this creature please," you said as you handed over the slime's identification card.

The worker scanned the card before giving you a sympathetic look. "Are you sure about this? This particular slime has been bounced back to us at least three times. It's very temperamental."

You recall the wave of calm you had felt when you were only separated from it by the glass beneath your hand. "I'm certain."

"Have you ever had a slime before?"

"No," you admitted, "I've never had the money to adopt one. I've been saving for years though, and I'm certain this is the slime I want."

"You might want to start with an easier one first. You being brand new to this and all. I can almost guarantee that this one will still be around if you decide to go looking later."

You shake your head. "I appreciate the advice, but I'm set on this one," you say firmly.

"Suit yourself," the worker shrugs. "Not like the poor thing isn't used to coming back here."

"I'm going to take great care of it. I've got my apartment set up and everything."

"Alrighty then. You can go ahead and head up front to pay. I'll have your slime brought up by the time you finish." The identification card is handed back to you.

As promised, there was a small, travel sized tank waiting for you after you'd paid and gone through the mandatory speech on slime care. You already knew most of it after years of research, but it did remind you of a few things you seemed to have forgotten.

You carried your new creature out to your car and buckled the tank safely in the front seat.

"Alright little slime, it's me and you now. I'm going to make sure you have a good new life. I'm not going to give up on you like the others." You pat the top of the tank and feel a vibration and a soft noise from the other side of the glass, almost as if the creature was purring.

Back home you carried the case over to the tank you had prepared for it and sat it inside. Only then did you open the travel container so that the slime had a chance to safely explore and get used to its new surroundings. You secured the tank lid and went off to put away the pamphlets that the adoption fair had given you.

When you returned the slime had moved into the big tank. It pressed itself against the glass as though it could sense you.

"Hey there, it looks like you're getting used to your new place. I hope that it’s big enough for you. It'll be a while before I can afford something bigger, but even then I'm not sure it would fit."

The slime vibrated again.

You smile and open the tank to remove the travel container. The slime oozed off of the glass and to the bottom of its tank. You stick your hand back down, fingers brushing affectionately against it. Another purr came from it. This time, the first time you've actually touched it, had it suckling at your fingers. Calmness washed over you again. Your fingertips began to tingle.

"Hey now, what are you doing?" You pull away with a laugh.

The slime follows you up, but releases you once your hand is nearly out of its tank. It sinks back down into a puddle and crawls to a corner as if sulking.

With another laugh you reach both hands down toward it. "Alright, if you're going to be mad about it, I guess I can let you out for a bit. We'll both have a chance to properly meet each other."

It surged upward into your hands. It oozed over the edges of your hands, but retained its overall shape. You carried it over to the couch.

The creature puddled into your lap. Bare seconds had passed before it was sending tendrils out to explore you. It wrapped itself up your arms. Retreated and slid along your neck. It caressed your lips and coated your stomach.

No residue was left in its wake. You had expected needing a full shower after taking it out of its tank, but perhaps not. Calmness had stolen through you, stronger now that the two of you were touching. The soft, lapping movements over your skin lulled you. Before you knew it you were stretching out across the couch, mind hazy with calm. Time passed and your eyes dropped closed. Your slime exploring you had faded into the back of your consciousness.

When it slipped beneath your clothes you barely noticed. Not even when it explored lower, seeking out the warmth between your thighs. By then your body was pliant and wanting. A wanting that stole over you on paws so soft that you couldn't remember not that want. Something secret, just for you. The slime drizzled like honey into your center. So slow and fluid you didn’t register the feeling. No, you existed in a state of such hazy serenity that it was only when the slime began to purr that you clicked back to reality.

The purr sent a jolt through you. A vibration that had your hands clenching into fists on pure instinct. Now you could properly feel the ebb and glide of it within you. Your hazed mind began to clear with your racing heart. Heat bloomed in your cheeks. Seemingly of their own accord, your hips began to rock. The slime began to spread. It filled you in ways it hadn’t before. A moan escapes your mouth. You arch your back, trying desperately to grind on thin air.

The slime moves inside you as if thrusting. Hitting you deep and slow. Even through your first orgasm it doesn't stop. It sent another wave of haze inducing calm washing over you. Keeping you right on the edge. Making sure you felt every millimeter of it. A tendril of slime draws out of you. It spreads to cover your center. The feeling of it sucking at you pulls another orgasm from your pliant body.

It wrings orgasm after orgasm out of you. The state of bliss and arousal is never disrupted for long. It ebbs and flows from orgasm to orgasm until, finally, the slime pulls away. It climbs up your sweat slicked skin to nestle against your chest, purring contentedly.

"Little slime," you whisper, "you and I are going to get along very well."

HAVE YOUR AGE LISTED OR CATCH A BLOCK

#monster fucker #terato #monster breeding #slime breeding

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confessedlyfannish · 4 months

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Writing Prompt #11

It's an innocent ("please," Jason sneers, "there's nothing innocent about a plagiaristic propaganda machine encouraging minors to dance for sick ol' pervs while it spews misogynistic hate speech.'"

"okay, boomer,"

"the fuck did you just call me, replacement?") TikTok, one of those ones that kind of simmers in the background for a few weeks until someone with a decent enough following posts it on the Platform Formerly Known as Twitter and from there it seriously catches traction, blowing up until Tim knocks on Bruce's office door, phone in hand. Damian stands behind him, arms crossed and clearly simmering.

Bruce, fresh off a series of zoom conferences, raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, so you haven't seen it," Tim decides, striding forward.

Bruce's eyebrow jumps a smidge higher, on the edge of concern, as Tim thrusts his phone into his grasp.

"So," he begins, reaching over to refresh the mobile page "there's a video that's been making the rounds on Twitter and—well you should probably see it," He sighs over Damian's scoff as he clicks through the pop-up asking him to sign in or join TikTok, and presses "Watch Again", unmuting the video.

🎶 "Doo, badoo-badoo-badoo Badoo-badoo-badoo-badoo,"🎶 an upbeat background song hums as someone, presumably a student, films a school hallway with their phone. They walk past students talking near their lockers, some of whom flash peace signs and silly grins as the camera swings their way before continuing on.

But the main point Bruce gets stuck on is the all lowercase white text at the center of the screen that an automated woman's voice awkwardly narrates:

"when you go to school with bruce wayne's other long lost lovechild"

The student filming comes up behind a much taller student who faces away from him, in conversation with a black haired pale teenaged girl. She spots the cameraman and shoots him a confused, disgruntled look, saying something to the boy who then turns around.

Bruce quietly observes as the camera zooms in on a boy around Tim's page, possibly older. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a strong jaw, he raises an eyebrow at the one filming, looking beyond the camera, pitch black hair with blue undertones falling into his blue eyes. The camera momentarily zooms too far into those eyes then abruptly pulls back as he quirks a puzzled smile at the viewer, mouthing out an easily understandable "hi?".

The TikTok ends and seamlessly transitions to a person balancing their cat on an exercise ball with minimal success and this time Bruce presses the Watch Again button. The heart on the right side claims 750k likes.

Damian scoffs, louder, as it ends. "Clearly it is a hoax, but it has been popular among my classmates."

"The board hasn't made much noise about it—" Tim starts.

"And they won't," Bruce says, lifting his eyes from his phone. "Wayne Industries doesn't give statements on videos like these, no matter how viral they become. I've been getting lovechild claims since before I adopted Dick."

Which Tim knows, which is why his insistence on showing Bruce this one raises his hackles. He pins Tim down with a stare and despite Tim's perfected PR mask, he can see Tim is unsettled.

"B...he really, really looks like you." Tim admits. Damian scoffs for a third time and Tim shoots him a glare, "I get it, you don't see it, but you haven't seen the pictures of Bruce when he was younger."

"I don't need to!" Damian says angrily. "You're all being ridiculous!"

"All?" Bruce asks. Tim shifts awkwardly. "The family group chat has been talking," he says.

"I see," Bruce says. Because he does. Many claim Damian to be his doppelganger, but the boy actually favors Talia not just in skin tone but in the shape and color of his eyes, as well as the soft slope of her mouth and ears. Whether those features will sharpen once he goes through puberty is anyone's guess.

But this young man has Bruce's eyes. Martha's eyes.

That night they have a suspiciously full house for dinner, with even Jason dropping in, but no one says anything until Barbara wheels in for dessert, carrying a manila folder on her lap.

"What?" she says, when everyone stares. "Dick told me it was crème brûlée today!"

Bruce extends a hand wordlessly, and Barbara sheepishly hands the folder over.

"Bruce," she says, before he can open it, "I wouldn't have looked into this normally, but,"

"Just say it," Jason says, leaning back in his chair. "Take away the gray hairs, the receding hairline, and the wrinkles and the kid's a dead match."

"Take it back, Todd," Damian growls, "Father has a very full head of hair!"

"Not to mention a failed track record at keeping it in his pants, Exhibit A," Jason continues, pointing a fork at Damian, "oh wait," he says gleefully, "kid is definitely 18, so I guess that would make you Exhibit B!"

The table erupts, cutlery tinkling as Damian gets a knee up on the table to hurl himself at a cackling Todd, Dick jumping up to grab him as the others lean out of the way—

"Ahem!" Everyone stops cold as Alfred stands in the doorway, porcelain ramekins of crème brûlée stacked perfectly on a silver tray. Under his gaze, everyone sits back down, Damian and Jason both quietly uttering a "Sorry Alfie/Alfred," as they straighten up.

Bruce is oblivious to the chaos, Barbara biting her lip beside him as he stares blankly inside the folder at the printed copy of an adoption certificate.

Two days and several million likes later, another TikTok goes viral from the same user. Caught in the moment as whoever is filming runs up to the group, the same young man is chatting with a blonde in a red letterman jacket, a partially formed crowd around them. Even with one leg still in the cafeteria table, he towers over everyone.

"—sh. Look, we're all possibly Bruce Wayne's son!" the boy snarks. He has his hands out, palms up as if he's making a great point, and as he looks around he catches sight of the cameraman and his smirk drops.

"Ah Mac, c'mon dude not again—" and the TikTok ends.

#danny phantom #batman #dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc prompt #dp x dc crossover #bruce wayne #jason todd #danny fenton #my writing

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deegeemin · 5 months

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❄️✨❄️REMINDER THAT IDW SONIC WINTER JAM IS OUT!!! ❄️✨❄️

I'd love to talk about some neato things I got to draw in the comic! Spoiler warning for some contents below! If you haven't read anything yet, come back after reading the comic!

Let's start off with the cover thumbnails! I was more inclined to do A since it wouldn't spoil the big surprise Orbot and Cubot had in store! Otherwise I probably would've gone with B or D! It has that bombastic party sort of feel that I think would've been super fitting!

Here, Eggman is temporarily staying at one of his many bases throughout the world after the collapse of his Eggperial city! This base is inspired by Industria from Future Boy Conan and a bit of Eggmanland!

He also sure loves his chicken and fries!

A little beachside balcony in Green hill! I felt like we generally don't get structures there as much so I thought it'd be a nice addition!

The design on the floor is the stage from the JP Sonic X intro! It gets covered up by snow after but still neat to include!

Look at this magnificent cast of characters! I wanted to use the poses that each pair had when they were first seen together! I'd considered giving Big his winning animation pose from SA1 but alas no space haha!

Cubot's taped on eye brow gag was one I suggested and it's a reference to the same gag from FLCL!

Lil sonic team logo Iasmin asked for! Sonic sure knows to appreciate himself! Good on him.

And here's a sonic 3 wreath and the SA2 lock on reticle from the mechs!

Amy and cream's spread of delicious looking food beautifully rendered by the coloring god Reggie! I wanted to include all their items from the Official Sonic the Hedgehog Cookbook! So if you want to make them yourself, YOU CAN! (except for uhh the experiment on another panel. you guys can figure out what's in that yourselves haha)

Also made sure to list all the pages you can find the recipes!

This is one of my fav gags that Iasmin wrote in!! Can you all guess what this is meant to vaguely resemble?

Quick round of character refs from Eggman's screen going in order from left to right! [Conductor's wife and Conductor, Barry and Gadget, Early Conductor design, Early Barry design (his outside eye markings are white tho), My uh Sonicsona lol]

Mecha Sonic mark 3? Yep Iasmin wanted him to be there and so there he shall be!! Hopefully we get to see him again!

I remember seeing the story Iasmin made and it really felt like it could be something you'd see in a sonic anime episode if it were made nowadays. I drew the comic with some influence from Sonic X because of that. I think the most telling detail fans might notice is the constant 3 spines for Sonic.

but YEAH another absolutely wonderful comic I got to work on! See ya'll on another issue!

#sonic the hedgehog #idw sonic #sega

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mellowwillowy · 6 months

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𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 NSFW

⤷ Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves it when you show him that stupid face of yours, cum drunk as he fucks you raw nonstop, and perhaps the imaginary love that forms in your gaze.

⤷ warnings — hints of manipulative behavior, oral receiving and giving, overstimulation, GN

Yan! Boyfriend is the nicest boyfriend you will ever have! He is a prodigy so he is naturally great in everything that will help you, including fucking you dumb until you feel like nothing but his cocksleeve.

"You like it when I angle my hips this way right?" Your boyfriend teased you as he rammed your insides, his tip hitting that one spot at a steady pace. You could not bring yourself to word an answer, all you could do was to be vocal with your moans.

"Pukuku, you really are adorable," Blue licked your tear-stained cheek upward, tasting the saltiness in your tears, "fucked dumb now? I still have a lot stored in me." You did not doubt his words, this was nothing but a 1/3 of what he could really do to you.

You complained, arms flailing around to push him off from you, legs thrashing against him and mouth blurting out curses at him. He just wouldn't budge, if anything, his erection did not soften up despite the ejaculation he had earlier inside of you.

"Still have shit tons of cum unloaded for you hun. Don't pass out on me just yet." He flashed you a toothy grin as he mouthed your breast, sucking it like a baby. His teeth occasionally grazed your perked-up nipples while his tongue circled your areola. "My favorite milkers, aren't you?"

He started out slow and steady again, his hand feeling your throbbing sex again, offering you another relish of pleasure as your body still trembled from your previous orgasm. "Hmm~ always ready for me to take you aren’t you?" He pulled himself out and shifted his mouth into your sex, tongue working itself skillfully, fingers squelching inside your cum-filled hole. He relishes in how your thighs squeezed his face, hips still instinctively bucking toward his face, "There there, eager aren't you?" he spreaded your thigh open with one of his hands, "Patience, love."

Your arousal was built to the brim again, evident by how you were squirming beneath him, your consciousness at his mercy now. "Ohh, it must have felt so good, to have my tongue edging you to the point you are brimming with tears honey!" You were not sure whether he was demeaning you or being attentive, he had always been an enigma in your eyes.

Even so, you managed to question him, "Is that, khk- s'posed to b-be degrading me?" Blue looked at you doe-eyed, cocking his head to the side, "You think so dear?" Was that supposed to guilt trip you again? You clenched your jaw as you tried to contain your moans, unbothered to answer him. It didn't go unnoticed as he started to pick up his pace, fingers, and tongue diligently working even harder to coax more noises out of you. You have always had the best voice in his opinion after all. "Pretty things with pretty voices shouldn't be this silent yeah?"

You could hear how he might actually slurp your bodily fluids like a thirsty beast, "Cum" His fingers pumped in and out of your hole fast and steady now, "Come on, cum for me yeah?" God, just how was he so skillful with his mouth and hand? Blue's attack did not falter, at least not until he had you creamed in his mouth, swallowing everything you had for him in a large gulp. The way his Adam's apple bobbed was so arousing to watch, especially how your fluid was all over his lip. Blue dragged his finger and tongue to make sure none of it go to waste, sucking his cum-coated fingers clean.

"Tasty aren't you? You are just so addicting honey." His eyes watched your panting figure, overstimulated again after rounds of orgasms. You wanted to spit at his words, to do just anything. You tapped your lip, "Mouth," Blue raised one of his eyebrows, "I want a taste of you, hun." Blue smirked, his pearl-white teeth visible as he gave his cock a few pumps before lining it in front of your lip, "You sure honey? I might rut into your mouth like a rabbit in heat."

You grinned at him, "Anything for my bunny in heat."

You knew oral would not be enough to save you from another round of being pounded raw but at the very least you could have a taste of what was overflowing inside you ♥

#Blue the Boyfriend #LIfE Project #yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere smut #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader

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gildedkrone · 7 months

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KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

Price, who is an excellent soft dom in the bedroom. Driven by pride and ego, he always sought to fulfil your pleasure before his own during your trysts. He’s always checking on you and making sure your emotional and physical needs are met through praises and mouthy lips on yours.

Price, who returns home from his job with a weary heart and tired body. The mission went south and kept him from his beloved sweetheart for an additional five days. He agrees in an instant and a few minutes later, his shirt is unbuttoned and his trousers are pulled down to his thighs.

“Luv, please … have mercy …” Price groans when his tip is pressed against your ass for the third time. It’s long, stiff, and stands proudly, and he would’ve gripped your hips if it weren’t for the cuffs on his wrists keeping his grubby hands off your body.

“Patience, captain.” You smirk when he lets loose another curse before his temper cascades into a deep growl when he’s finally had enough of your teasing. It’s been weeks and he had looked forward to burying himself balls deep in his lover for days to satiate his urges and needs. Only to be tied down to the bed with your clumsy rear taunting him.

It’s the furthest his dick has gone into you and you purr, “C’mon, you can beg for more.”

The yelp from your lips accompanies a ripping sound and hands clasp around your neck to flip your over with the captain settling on your pelvis. He’s fuming, oh he is, and by all means he is unimpressed as you backpedal with an uneasy laugh, “Hey, cap, no need to be so angry yeah? I’m just teasing you.”

The broken pieces of velcro tape laid by your forearms and your hips are jerking and twitching when his dick fills your greedy hole so quickly and you are instantly regretting your decisions. Price would absolutely breed you until you are a shivering mess, all loose and strengthless with his seed spilling out around your white rim and onto the bed. Your torso, painted white from your own release and sticky and if Price is feeling really bold, licks a line between from your navel to your chest through the mess.

Make no mistake; Price may not be the youngest man you’ve been with but he’s got that stamina to just keep going and by the third round, he is only partially satiated while you are out of the count. He doesn’t stop of course, and you are bred over and over again until your ass hurts and your dick shoots blanks.

He makes good on his threat, and when he’s done, he rests his wet cock on your chest and runs the bath to get you cleaned up before he is snuggling you under the covers.

König is also a soft dom but, occasionally, he does have a mean streak which manifests itself in dirty talk and aggressiveness. The man works very hard in his career, how else would he be a colonel at 34, and needs an outlet for his stress occasionally and what better candidate than his boyfriend—you?

König knows he is much larger than your previous partners and is always cautious of being rough in bed with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, even if you are built Ford tough. But you know to bring out the colonel in him, all you need is to tease him relentlessly and act like a spoilt brat before he is putting a stop to it.

“Schatz, bitte! B-bitte!” He pulls on the restrains as you slide off his dick again. König’s so damn hard from just the initial few touches and his muffled groans are much louder when his dick lodges itself between your cheeks. He’s desperate for you to just move.

“Kö, c’mon, where’s that self-restraint? Aren’t you a soldier or something?” Long auburn hair is messily splayed on the pillow and he wiggles his hips to get some friction on his neglected length even when you tut gently to keep his hips in place.

He pants, “N-no more … Let me feel you, bärchen. I’ll make you feel good, I promise ah!”

“Kö, what kind of colonel begs so easily? Should I tell your coworkers?” His eyes flash with indignation and the straps on the bedframe is pulled taut and then, snaps as König grabs your hair and pulls you off his hips. You barely register the pillow against your face before he pulls your hips up and his fat dick pushes past a tight rim into heat with a sigh from the colonel and it stings when he slaps your ass and gives you a good stroke.

“You are really asking for it, schatz. Do you need to be punished?” And by god, you are absolutely going to be screaming into the pillows as he uses your body like his cock sleeve. He will joke about his handprints on your hips later and you whine as the punishing pace begins and his cruel laughter fuels the drool falling from your lips.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist || requested by @hcnteur 💞

#fanfic #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod x male reader #x male reader #john price #price x male reader #john price x male reader #price fanfiction #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #konig x male reader #könig x male reader #könig cod #konig fanfiction #könig mw2 #call of duty

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 months

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Congrats on 5k!!! Can we get the possessive facetime bf and "you should have known better than to cheat on me" please :D

A/N: Thank you! And tbh I made this a smutty smut smut as well b/c i feel like this is how possessive bf would handle the situation. Aka poorly.

CW: dubcon NSFW, gagging & bondage, penetration (GN Reader), reader flirts w/ someone else, reader & possessive bf originally both intoxicated

It was too late for this. Or maybe, too early. You lost track of time long ago, glowy green numbers on your alarm clock reading 1:45 AM when you first stumbled back home with the pissed drunkard beside you, dragging you inside by your arm. You were practically sober now, your headache screaming as you felt the blissful simplicity of being tipsy leave your throat. You wish you drank more, did something more outrageous than give some stranger your number. Maybe you should’ve kissed him, should’ve stuck your hand down his pants instead of batting your eyelashes. Maybe then, you wouldn’t have to face your boyfriend’s wrath-- he’d have been too heartbroken to even think of reprimanding you.

But it didn’t matter now, not when he decided to deprive you of your senses while pumping round after round inside of you. It was a form of white torture, he hystericaly answered when your arms were jerked behind you, tied with what you thought might’ve been a makeshift restraint or a necktie, but was instead harsh braided rope meant for cattle or ransom victims. It scratched your wrists as he pulled your head back by a fistful of hair, promising that “you’ll be begging for his forgiveness by the end of this.”

With the blindfold he seemed much too prepared to have wrapped around your eyes, Malachi ripped off your skimpy underwear meant for the club, stuffing it in your mouth and narrowly avoiding your biting teeth.

When you both went to celebrate his cousin’s birthday party at a nightclub, you had partly decided to ignore him for treating you so possessively the past month, logic being thrown out the window with the sudden accompaniment of lemon drop shots and a handsome stranger showing you more interest than your jealous, pissed off boyfriend had in ages. You felt wanted, desired. It was nice, even when you felt daggers in your back, and a tugging hand on your shoulder every five minutes. The last straw was when you wrote your scribbled, illegible phone number on the strangers’ arm.

Saying Malachi was enraged was an understatement. You were jerked away, stumbling and laughing as you blew a kiss to your midnight affair. Did you want more? You didn’t know. All you knew, is you wanted a fun night out without having to cater to your obsessive boyfriend’s every need. You wanted to feel sexy, lusted after.

But maybe you should’ve pulled that stunt at a time when Malachi wasn’t around. Then, you wouldn’t be sobbing behind the gag, hearing the wet squelches of cock being bullied inside of you. Your insides felt bruised, nipples tugged and bitten as Malachi slamed in, in, in from below.

Normally, you’d have the power when sitting on top of him, grinding and allowing him to lay limp. But with your thighs spread apart on his flank, hands against your ass and every sense blurred, he thrusted into you as you barely held yourself up.

“This.. is.. what.. you get--!” He huffed, snarling as he slapped the growing welt on your ass cheek. You heard his gasped gag, hips stuttering with his broken orgasm splaying inside of you.

Which orgasm was this? You couldn’t remember, the vibrating toy milking out your sweet spot still going as a mixture of clear-white came to coat Malachi’s dick. He hadn’t eased you in, hadn’t given into the foreplay he’d usually tease you with, even when he normally hate-fucked you.

“You know better..hng, been taught, time, and time again… hah,” You tried to squeeze your legs shut to keep him out, but the hands keeping you lifted moved to violently pull your knees apart. You fell onto his chest with a choke, the sweat dripping from your cheeks mixing with the caked layer on his chest. “You’re just making it too easy for me to punish you, huh?”

You muffled through the gag, prating incomprehensibly as the painful overstim of your lower half was worsened by this new, weak position.

Malachi lazily rutted up into you while coming off his high, pressing your hips down each time to enter deeper. He always went to the hilt of his cock, so deep inside that it made your walls ache and splinter.

“I’d almost say you’re a masochist fr’me,” He panted, lifting you by the jaw to look into his eyes. “ Wanna be pounded by me for flirting with other guys, cheatin like a common streetwalker, mm’?”

You shook your head, unable to see him but knowing those green eyes were boring into you.

“Seems like you still don’t fucking get it then. Well, we’ll be here until you do.”

The gag was pushed deeper down your throat with his thumb, hips rising as he let go of spreading your cheeks to stabilize you. Skin smacked against skin as he pounded up, letting your poor hips fall each time he burrowed out.

“I can’t!” You muffled, the tight pain of another rising orgasm coming beginning to blind you. You couldn’t take this one, your body wouldn’t be able to handle it.

Attempting to slide off, you tried to maneuver your legs away, arms still bound as you struggled to inch off of him. If he was as tired as you, maybe you’d get a chance away.

“Oh no you don’t,” He growled, digging blunt nails into the fat of your thighs with one hand, while the other tugged at your scalp. “Think you get to rest? Get a chance to relax after cheating on me?”

The encircling vibrator was turned up tenfold with the sudden drop of your hair, fingers moving to tug at your ear. “No way, not leaving until I THINK you’ve suffered enough.”

Malachi got close, licking a long stripe inside its canal as he jutted into your weeping entrance faster. The squeaks of the mattress made you cringe, hearing the wetness of his cum layering between your ass and thighs, falling to the sweaty sheets.

His heaves for air grew louder, pushing your shoulders back to force you upright again. You still slouched, even with Malachi’s arm tugging your restrained hands down backwards.

“Gonna take my cock like the.. Hungry whore you’ve been..take it till you’re sorry. And even then, Hah…” He laughed, a pissed and out of breath laugh that made him work harder to bruise your furiously drenched hole. “--still won’t stop cumming inside of you.”

You could only crack a groan each time his hips snapped up, in rhythm with his movement as you felt the vibrator bring you to the brink of another painful, consuming orgasm. Tears and drool dripped from your face alike as you prayed for him to nearly have his fix, lest you pass out from the ecstasy and suffering of another round. Atleast it wasn’t another painful edge session, your hazy mind tried to comprehend. Though at this point, you wondered if that’d have been better.

“Waz.. Mnph, Drunk..” You tried to choke from the bundled up gag, hoping maybe he’d offer you some sympathy out of your previous lack of inhibition.

“Sorry, baby. Doesn’t matter, still actin like you wanna fuck other guys n’ front of me,” He circled his hips upward, watching as your already open mouth created a sweet ‘O.’ You couldn’t help the noises you released anymore, not when he used what you liked and abused it-- but your moans seemed to satisfy Malachi. “But you ready to say you’re sorry? Make it up to me, yeah?”

You nodded your head erratically,, wanting this to end no matter what you had to do. You were exhausted, the lessening vibrator making you sigh in relief despite the aching bruising still inflamed by the plunging cock hilted inside of you.

“Awe, you’re so cute. It’s not enough, though. Say sorry all you want, I wanna hear you.” The evil trick of the calming vibrator had snuffed your awareness, making you jolt when it was snapped back to a level 10. “But I’m not letting you off the hook when you still got so much left to pay for.”

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satoruhour · 8 months

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sliding down a wall in agony over gojo and his undercut rn.... wanna run my hands across it and then pull on his hair while he's eating pussy i'm SOO NORMAL OMG

a/n: OH MY GOD ! peep i have a fluffy drabble of it here muahahaha

warnings: fem!reader, making out, fingering, oral (f! receiving), clit stimulation, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

gojo sighs when you meet his lips after a long day. he hasn’t even gotten past the genkan when you’re already leaning forward to engulf him in your love. without effort, he removes his shoes while wrapping his arms around you. no words are exchanged; you know it’s been a long day for satoru from the way his shoulders sag and he doesn’t greet you with the happiest of tones.

he silently walks you into your shared home, humming into your lips as his initial stress and frustration subsides into love and he brings your arms around his neck. he uses his tongue to nudge your lips and you willingly open your mouth, letting him play with your tongue as the kiss turns sloppy.

you let him have his way, hands feeling all up your body as he mutters something equivalent to jump and you pull away briefly to admire his swollen glossy lips and his tousled hair. you hop into his arms and moan softly at the hands on your ass, fingers knowing where to go even though you were so damn engrossed in locking lips with him.

they tug off his blindfold and his hair comes tumbling down, fingertips digging into the back of his head. they’re as short as always, prickly strands that feel oddly blunt from how much you run your hand over it everyday. from there, your hand massages the back of his head and it quells his headache briefly. gojo sighs and releases your lips with a soft ‘pop’, kissing down your neck as you continue to glide your hand over the fuzzy hairs and back up. with a soft tug on his strands, his mouth drops in a silenced gasp.

“oh yeah . . feel good?” you whisper, so fragile with gojo’s love that if you speak even a decibel above that you fear you might break the tension. gojo nods, going back to sucking on your neck while you play with his hair, but his way of distressing involves stripping you down, too—

with hushed praises against your physique, satoru pecks his way down your body, giving attention to all your sensitive areas before coming right down to your cunt. there’s already a wet patch that is soaked through the fabric, and for the first time that night, your lover speaks.

“so pretty f’r me, always . .” it’s a little raspy from the lack of use, but you know he’s about to go back into wordless groans by the way he peels away your underwear and sighs at your wetness. gojo licks off your arousal from your panties with a small grin, a glint in his eyes that suggests he can’t let a drop go to waste.

the fabric is across the room by then and your legs trapped in his upper arms, tongue drawing out the sweetest moans from you as he gives your clit teasing kitten licks.

“baby— b-baby . . satoru—” all he does is flit his eyes to you, deep blues staring you down below his stark white lashes and he holds it. even as you squirm around on the couch and dig your heels into his back, he doesn’t waver. he then gathers some saliva and spits onto your pussy, rubbing it in with a whimper — it’s all he can do when you continue to leak arousal.

“s’good, your tongue’s so— f-fuck!” more and more and more, you drip onto the sofa that again, he takes his curious tongue and licks it right up from your asshole and collects every drop of your nectar. he slurps it all up before he starts his merciless assault.

gojo gets all in there, eating you out like a starved man and slobbering over your cunt, flicking and sucking at your clit over and over to the point where you don’t know where you are. the grasping hands on the sofa does nothing, so you settle instead for his hair. they feel much much different now, the short hairs of his undercut feeling sharp and vivid through your fingertips because of how sensitive your body was. his eyes flutter close, upper body pushed into your pelvis so eagerly.

your hands stall for a bit when you notice satoru is grinding down onto the sofa — your pussy tastes so good it has gojo satoru humping whatever for some relief — but your focus is back again when he prods at your hole with a finger. with one swift push, he inserts it and the wandering hands all over his undercut moves up to pull.

gojo moans into your cunt at the intoxicating and burning feeling on his scalp, finger pumping faster in you that it has you closing your thighs around him. he’s too drunk on your pussy to care that he’s coming up short of breath, letting you ride his tongue. your fingers card through his hair, tugging, releasing, tugging, it’s an endless cycle that drags him into your cunt over and over.

“close— c— g-god!” you moan out loud, head thrown back and vision turning white once he plunges his second finger into your cunt and you clamp down on him so tightly that gojo has trouble pistoning them into you. there’s a mantra of his name on your lips as you pull the harshest you’ve ever done to his hair, the other gripping the back of the couch. you grind your hips into his relentless mouth, hearing yourself drip down his chin as you cum all over his face.

“pretty, pretty pussy . . mmhm . .” satoru mumbles, fixated on how his fingers disappear in you, “can you give me another, darling?” his lids are hooded and he’s sleepy and it’s clear he isn’t talking to you. when he starts to pump his fingers again, the lewd sclick! that sounds out makes him lick his lips, “thaat’s the answer i want . .”

#anon #asks #I FELL ASLEEP ....#after this im going back to sleep it’s 7am here dawg #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk x you #jjk gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months

Text

Hurricane - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: Bradley's regretted breaking off his relationship with you for months, but when he sees you walking into the country club after his round of golf, he knows he has to fix things.

a/n: I haven't written much angst before but I'm really trying to branch out a little bit. Inspired by Hurricane by Luke Combs, and also this weird recurring dream I keep having.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x reader

warnings/content: buckle up bc there's a lot? angst (happy ending), parental death, depression, hurt, cancer, goose's accident + carole's reaction, carole literally never getting over losing goose, bradley being a commitmentphobe, pregnancy (i think that's it?), also entirely unrealistic bc you know what? I can't keep roo sad for long.

word count: 3.6k

taglist: @avengersfan25, @nouis-bum, @floydsmuse, @mamachasesmayhem, @jessicab1991, @atarmychick007, @b-bradshaw, @djs8891

Then you rolled in with your hair in the wind Baby, without warning I was doin' alright but just your sight Had my heart stormin'

Bradley narrowed his eyes beneath his sunglasses, the glare of the hot mid-morning sun harsh on his chocolate brown eyes. He grabbed his nine-iron from his golf bag, taking a practice swing before teeing up for his next shot. Bob, Jake, Reuben and Javy stood to the side behind him, watching as he lined up to take his shot. He hadn’t golfed in years, in fact, he’d only ever golfed a handful of times in his life, all of them back when he lived in Virginia. His uncle had taught him when he was 15, a welcome distraction when his mom became sick, and he’d gone out a few times when he was in college after a roommate of his on the school’s golf team had invited him out. He held his breath as he heard the club make contact with the small, white orb, watching as it soared through the air, disappearing somewhere onto the course. Jake let out an impressive whistle as he looked on, placing his hands on his hips as he shook his head in disbelief.

“You’ve never golfed before, Bradshaw? You sure?” He drawled, raising one of his manicured (though he’d deny it if asked) blonde eyebrows suspiciously.

“I told you, a handful of times. Not never.”

“You did say less than five,” Bob shrugged as he cleaned his glasses before replacing them on his nose. “Less than five suggests you haven’t really hit a course.”

“Not to mention you said in years. That was the swing of a man who’s at least hit a driving range a few times,” Reuben pointed out to the course in the general direction of where Bradley’s ball had landed as Javy, Bob and Jake nodded in agreement.

“I wish Nat had tagged along, she wouldn’t ride my ass this hard,” Bradley huffed, shaking his head.

“Nat doesn’t golf. You know that. She acted disgusted that I even asked,” Jake shrugged.

“Maybe it was how you asked,” Bob suggested as he disguised his jab at Jake as a helpful criticism.

“Just take your turn, Robert,” Jake hissed, rolling his eyes dramatically as Bob smirked.

Bradley normally would have joined in with a quip of his own directed at Jake, but his heart just wasn’t in it. His heart wasn’t even in the game. The only reason why he’d agreed to go golfing with the guys for their usual monthly game was because you left him. He needed to get over you and move on - it’d been six months and with no deployments coming up, he had nothing to focus 100% of his attention onto. Reuben had noticed it first - Bradley was withdrawn on nights out, his usually chatterbox self now quiet, calm and keeping to himself, barely breaking eye contact with his beer bottle. Then came Natasha’s barrage of questions - he knew she meant well, but God, it was hard to listen to.

He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he knew why you left. And it was entirely his fault. You’d gotten upset because he’d stopped spending as much time with you, kept getting cold feet about committing to your relationship. He’d never tell you why he couldn’t commit - it was too hard for him to explain to anyone, really. In fact, he was fairly confident that Reuben was the only other person aware of it.

Bradley wanted to be the partner you needed - he really did. He wanted to be the doting, affectionate boyfriend who’d whisk you off somewhere beautiful, propose to you, start a family with 2.2 kids and a dog, cart the kids around to sports practices on weekends - the American dream. He knew you deserved that much. And yet, no matter how badly he wanted to give that to you - he couldn’t. He’d told you he didn’t want it - he didn’t want to get married, he didn’t want to have kids, he never wanted it. He watched you fall apart the minute the words left his mouth, and it killed him inside. He wanted to hold you close and tell you he was making a mistake, tell you it wasn’t true and he didn’t mean it, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t, because he was terrified.

Growing up without his dad was one of the hardest things he could have experienced, he was sure of it. He was too young to truly remember how his mom reacted when she learned her husband had been killed in a training exercise, but he remembered her crying a lot, feeling paralyzed by loss and guilt, angry with the world for taking the man she loved away from her. He remembered as he grew up, she never remarried, never went on a date, never even as much as looked at another man. His dad was her everything, and losing him crushed her.

When she got sick, Bradley was a teenager - old enough to understand what it meant for her, what her odds of recovery were, and old enough to be realistic about the future. When they found out she wasn’t going to get better, he’d half expected her to react the way she did when his dad died, but instead, she seemed almost at peace with the idea. She’d spent 14 years of her life missing his dad, and she knew that, even though she was horrified by the thought of leaving Bradley on his own, she wouldn’t have to spend another minute missing her husband.

Bradley decided then that he’d never want to put someone through that. He’d never be able to hurt someone he loved like this - leave them widowed before they turned 30, alone with a toddler at home to raise on the opposite side of the country from their family and friends, with nothing but a military pension and an apology over his death.

It was at 16 years old that Bradley decided, if he wanted to become a pilot, he was going to have to spend life alone, and for the most part, he was ok with that.

That was, until he met you.

He tried to deny his feelings, pretending you were just a casual fling, some fun sex here and there between deployments and missions and nothing more. That was, until three months in, he accidentally told you he loved you. It wasn’t a lie, he did love you, but it caught him off guard when he said it - he didn’t mean to blow his cover and let his guard down like that. And when you said it back? He knew it was game over.

He tried his hardest to push his fears aside, he tried SO hard. He was getting older and beginning to realize he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life alone, especially as he neared the mandatory 20 years of service cutoff for aviators. He’d grown almost fond of the idea of settling down with you, seeing you with a ring on your finger, picturing you with a baby in you, his baby. He wanted it. He wanted all of it. But, the fears and anxiety he had reared its ugly head, and he couldn’t bring himself to get past it.

It was on their last mission, when he had to eject and landed in the middle of a snowy mountain, unsure if he’d make it back home to you. His mind raced with thoughts of how you’d react if he didn’t make it home - how you’d crumple to the floor when you saw the two uniformed officers on your doorstep, the blood-curdling scream you’d let out in pain when you heard them say it, tears staining your pretty little face as you were handed that folded American flag - he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand the idea of putting you through everything his mom had gone through. Not when you were so young and had everything ahead of you. When you could find a man who wasn’t putting his life in danger nearly every damn day, risking himself and risking a chance he might not come home to you.

This golf trip was meant to take his mind off you. Reuben had mentioned it in passing to Jake and Bob, who exchanged worried looks with one another. Javy had overheard Nat’s line of questioning when he and Mickey returned to the table with a fresh round of beers, both of them offering Bradley silent looks of sympathy as they nodded in agreement to Nat’s advice. Bradley was struggling, in over his head with emotions and regret and sadness, but he knew he’d fucked it all up. And he knew that even if he tried, you wouldn’t want him back, and who could blame you?

Bob had suggested he reach out to you and apologize, and for a while, Bradley considered it. He strongly considered calling you, going to your house, begging for forgiveness and begging you to take him back, but after how you reacted when he broke things off with you, he wouldn’t even take him back. He’d been a dick in every sense of the word, and now, he had to try and move on, adjusting to life without you in it.

The next nine holes passed by with little conversation from Bradley and worried glances exchanged between his friends. He wasn’t in the mood for talking, he’d explain, shrugging the concern off before focusing back on the game. Bradley was thankful for his friends’ efforts, but it was beginning to feel like nothing would help him move on.

He slumped down into a chair at a table in the country club after their round of golf, sipping back the beer Jake bought him. He caught himself downing the liquid quicker than he should have, but at this point, being drunk would at least provide him with that much needed numbness he craved. He could hear Bob bickering with Jake over golf scores and who truly won, prompting an eye roll from Javy as he pulled the crumpled scoresheets from his pocket and placed them on the table. Reuben noticed the glazed over look in Bradley’s eye and clapped a sympathetic hand down on his shoulder.

Bradley was about to thank Reuben for being there for him when he saw your face. You were walking into the country club with a couple of your friends, laughing and smiling as you spoke.

God, he loved that smile.

He gulped back the rest of his drink before placing the glass back down on the table, the sound of Bradley slamming the glass down a little harder than he intended prompting Jake to spin his head around as he saw you.

“Oh..shit,” he murmured as Bob and Javy both turned to look discreetly towards you.

Bradley’s eyes widened as you walked past the bar, revealing a very unexpected new figure. He blinked his eyes a few times to ensure they weren’t playing tricks on him - positive that this had to be some kind of optical illusion or something. It was impossible. You couldn’t be.

“Pregnant.” Jake whispered as he leaned into the table, “She’s pregnant,”

“Did you know, Bradley?” Bob inquired as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“N-no.” Bradley choked out, feeling the walls closing in around him as the room started to spin.

Without hesitation, Bradley rose from his seat and made his way over to you, despite the protests from Bob and Reuben, the two voices of reason to Javy and Jake’s voices of impulse. Bradley approached you cautiously, clearing his throat for a moment to garner your attention. You spun your head around, your cheeks rosy and your skin glowing with that pregnancy glow everyone always talked about. Bradley had never really believed in that kind of stuff, but you were proving him wrong.

“Bradley?” you asked, your face paleing to a shade of ghostly white.

“Can…can we talk, please? I need to talk to you,” Bradley rambled with desperation written on his face.

You huffed a sigh, nodding your head slowly as you excused yourself from your friends, who were now whispering and exchanging uncomfortable glances with one another. Bradley followed closely behind you as you stepped out into the fresh air, finding a discreet corner of the parking lot to discuss everything from the last six months.

“I…Is it mine?” Bradley whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer as his eyes wandered to the bump that was evident under your sundress.

You sighed again, following Bradley’s gaze down to your abdomen, a protective hand resting on your bump as you nodded slowly, humming in confirmation.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowned, shaking his head quickly, “I-I, I would have helped you.”

“Bradley,” you said, narrowing your eyes and shaking your head quickly, “You told me you didn’t want this. You dumped me and told me you never wanted to settle down or have a family, you didn’t want to be with me anymore, and being in a long-term relationship wasn’t what you ever wanted. You told me you didn’t love me. So please, tell me why I should have told you?”

“Because,” he said softly, his heart aching as he heard your side of things, “I didn’t mean any of that. I was wrong.”

“Oh, you were wrong? Tell me, were you always wrong, or are you only wrong now that you’ve seen me six months later, heavily pregnant?”

Bradley was speechless. He gazed down at his feet, kicking at the pavement in his golf cleats. He sighed as he thought for a moment, taking a second of quiet reflection to compose his thoughts before speaking. He wanted to get this right. He couldn’t afford to fuck it up again.

“I was always wrong. I was wrong when I said it, and I knew I was wrong,” he shook his head vigorously before looking up to meet your gaze, “Did I ever tell you about my mom?”

“You told me she died when you were a teenager, and you didn’t really mention anything else about her. Or anyone in your family, for that matter.”

“Right,” he nodded his head slowly, taking a deep breath before beginning to explain. “My dad died when I was 2. He was an RIO, a Radar Intercept Officer. You know Maverick, right?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded slowly, a look of annoyance flashing across your face as you listened to Bradley, you were used to his excuses, and you were really hoping this wasn’t another one.

“So, Maverick was my dad’s pilot. Best friends. Did everything together. He was flying when my dad died, their plane lost control, had to eject, my dad hit the canopy. Died instantly.” Bradley paused, taking another deep breath as he felt himself getting choked up, “My mom, she, uh, she was really young. My dad was 25, my mom was 23. He was her high school sweetheart. She was devastated. I was too young to remember a lot, but I remember her hurting, and being sad all the time, unable to function some days because she just missed him so much,” he explained as tears began to roll down his cheeks.

“Bradley, I’m sorry,” you sighed, shaking your head as you sympathetically rubbed his bicep to comfort him.

“I just…when she died, she was…peaceful, I guess, because she knew she wouldn’t have to miss him anymore. She wouldn’t be lonely. She never remarried or dated after him, she couldn’t bring herself to. She’s buried with her wedding ring still on her finger. I couldn’t bring myself to take it off her,” he took another deep breath, exhaling sharply before looking up at you.

“I couldn’t do that to you,” he finally said, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over again, “I couldn’t leave you like my mom. Heartbroken and alone your whole life. She never moved on, and I didn’t want that for you if we got married. God, I would have given anything to marry you. I would have taken you to the courthouse and married you on the spot if you would have agreed to it. But, I couldn’t risk breaking your heart. Not like that.”

“Bradley, you’ve always come home in one piece,” you said softly, fingers still stroking his upper arm soothingly.

“But I almost didn’t. I had to eject and all I could think about was you getting that knock at the door and going through what she went through, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do that to you, or…or to a baby.”

You shook your head, processing everything that Bradley had just said as he poured his heart out to you. He’d never opened up like this to you before, but you could tell each and every word was genuine. As much as you hated him for leaving you, you couldn’t deny that you still loved him with all of your heart.

You missed him.

You missed waking up to him after the two of you had fallen asleep watching a movie together. You missed the way he yelled at the tv when watching baseball, how passionate he got over football games, how he’d pick the olives out of his nachos like a toddler and put them on your plate. You missed how he couldn’t eat apples unless they were baked in a pie, how he’d scarf down an entire red velvet cake if you didn’t gently stop him, then regret it hours later. You missed the way his big brown eyes would stare at you, a look of pure adoration on his face like a lovesick puppy whenever you spoke to someone else, as if he was hanging on every single word that fell from your lips.

You burst into tears, throwing your arms tightly around Bradley as you shook your head. “God, you’re an idiot, you know that?” you murmured, laughing softly as you hugged him.

“I know, I’m the biggest idiot. I still would marry you if you let me. I wanted to have kids with you, I want to be around for this one,” he nodded, gesturing his hands at your bump.

“Really?”

“Cross my heart,” Bradley said with an expression of complete seriousness on his face, “I wanna know everything about them. Everything. I wanna know what you’re having, what name you’ve picked out, what your cravings are, how you’ve been feeling, when they move, what does it feel like? I want to know how far along you are, and how they’re doing, if they have my nose or your nose, or if they’re gonna be tall like I am, I want to know what helps you sleep at night when you’re pregnant, and what their favourite song is. I want all of it, honey.”

“Ok, ok, slow down, breathe, Bradley,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “Take a walk with me?”

As you and Bradley walked around the pedestrian pathway on the golf course, smiling as you spoke fondly about the baby, answering all of Bradley’s questions.

“Well, baby’s a girl, I don’t have a name in mind for her yet, I’ve been craving oranges and Sprite, anything sweet and citrusy. I’ve been ok, better now the morning sickness finally dissipated. It feels like bubbles or something when she kicks, it’s like a fluttering, almost? I’m 28 weeks along, so I have about three months left. She looked like she has your nose on the ultrasound, there’s a 50/50 chance on her height, I sleep pretty much sitting upright because I get bad heartburn otherwise, and I play her music all the time. She likes Elvis and The Beach Boys, just like her dad.”

Bradley’s smile spread wide across his face, a small laugh of disbelief escaping his mouth as he nodded along with your words.

“That’s great. A girl? Really? You’re gonna have a daughter running around,” he said softly, almost as if he was daydreaming about what the little girl would look like.

“We are going to have a daughter.”

“You’re gonna let me be there? After everything?”

“Bradley, as much as I hated you for what you did and how you ended things - I never truly hated you. I loved you, more than anything. I still do.”

He held you tightly, burying his face into your hair as he kissed the top of your head, murmuring softly against your hair.

“God, I love you so much, honey. I promise, I’m never going to do something stupid like that again.”

“I know you won’t,” you laughed, shaking your head as he looked down at you, “I know you’d never leave Carly and I again.”

Bradley froze in place for a moment as he stared at you, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke.

“What did you call her?”

“Carly. I thought, I don’t know, after you told me about your mom just now, I thought maybe you’d like to name the baby after her? Carole’s nice too, I just figured Carly gives her a name that’s her own too, they share the same root.”

“Carly,” he nodded slowly as he repeated it, “I love it.”

Bradley took your hand in his, his large fingers enveloping your hand as he held it tightly, as if he was terrified of letting go. He made that mistake once before, he wasn’t about to do it again.

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angelskvll · 3 months

Text

✩⠀˚ ‘like a tattoo’⠀˚⠀ ˛ ♡ ୨୧

pairing: toji fushiguro x chubby!afab reader

summary: toji just loves your spine tattoo...

authors note: i really just threw this shit tg so sorry if this isn't my best work erm tehe :3

Toji Fushiguro had poisoned your mind.

Since the day you met, the thought of him had intoxicated your blood, running through your veins like venom. He spread through your body like an incurable disease and it sickened you to the bone.

Which was why your boyfriend chuckled at the whines that were leaving your lips as he pounded you from behind. Skin slapping skin had echoed in your ears, your body felt like it was on fire, but in a… good.. way? You couldn’t exactly think straight with the large man behind you who was fucking you like a fleshlight.

“fffuhh-CK! T-Toji!” You whined into the pillow as you gripped onto the bed sheets as if your life depended on it. In which you’re being completely honest, it felt like you were being split in two.

“mhmm–Fuuuckk! This pussy s’all mine, huh baby?” He smirked down at your trembling body, his hands gripping the plush of your waist as he pulled you against him as your ass clapped against his pelvis.

His cock dragged against your walls deliciously, the feeling of his veins rubbing against your insides had you seeing white as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You could feel his tip hitting the entrance of your womb with every thrust, the squelch of your cunt only egging him closer to his climax.

“T-Tuh--Jiii!” You mewled into the sheets as you grabbed one of the pillows that was splayed on the bed, holding it close to your face as you moaned sweetly into it.

“Such a fuckin’ minx…” He purred as his eyes, along with his hand, trailed down your back, your spine tattoo melting down your back into a beautiful piece.

Your back arched against his fingers that trickled down your spine, fucking back against him as his pace had slowed down from the animalistic one he had set prior.

“M’gunna–cum-” Your words slur as you tighten your grip around the pillow in your arms, missing the sly grin that painted your boyfriend's face as he pulled his ghosting hand away from your back and placed it back on your other hip.

“Ya’ gonna’ cum mama?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice ran shivers down your inked spine as he pulled away to rest his forehead in between your lats. “Cum f’me baby, wanna see this pretty pussy make a mess.” He kissed the top of your spine and pulled away to stand upright, his eyes trailing to his cock pistoning in and out of your folds. “She’s a pretty one ain’t she?” He groaned as he pulled his cock out to see it glistening with your essence and your walls tightening around him. “Fuck I’m gonna cum..” He threw his head back with his eyes shut tight, pulling your plush body back into his as your ass clapped against his pelvis.

“M’cumming!” You squeal as the knot in your lower stomach snapped as you came, your climax rippling through your body as you released on Toji’s cock, your juices dripping down his length as he continued his brutal pace.

“F-Fuck- s’so pretty–ugh– aren’t ya’ b-baby?” he stuttered with his words with his jaw clenched, tightening his hold on your hips as your chubby legs began to shake from overstimulation.

“C-Cum inside me, Ji’. Please–” You whined as he pulled the lower half of your body impossibly closer, your back arching even more as loud squeals began to leave your plush lips at the feeling of his tip poking the entrance of your womb with every thrust.

“Fuck, fuck–!” He cut himself off as he released his seed into your cunt, pulling you flush against him as his cum painted your insides white. “Fuckin’ hell…” He moaned lowly, his cock softening in your cunt as heavy pants left both of your lips.

You flopped onto the bed as Toji pulled out of you. You felt his cum drip out of you as a chuckle left his scarred lips, “That was only our 4th round, drama queen.”

“Felt like the 45th.” You groaned into the sheets as your muscles ached with every move you made. “N’my back hurts…”

“I jus’ like your tattoo I guess.” Toji snickered as you slapped his chest lightly.

“Fuck you. Asshole..” You mumbled lowly before you felt his arms on either side of you, his large body hovering over yours as you felt him lean down and whisper…

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, mama.”

taglist: @sorrowsblogworld (new taglist form will be up soon :3)

#her words ۪ ᩍ #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji smut #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you

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13rurururi · 11 months

Text

NSFW/Smut Alphabet with Haganezuka Hotaru

Pairing: Haganezuka Hotaru x Female!Reader

Content Warnings: cunnilingus, vaginal sex, oral sex, sex toys, impact play, size kink, public sex, bondage, edging, etc.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Haganezuka initially didn't understand the significance of aftercare, opting to hastily return to his workshop after a sensual session with you; however, once he gradually became attached to you — your smell, your taste, your skin, your sweet pussy — he began dedicating time to cleaning you up or offering to carry you to the village's hot springs to alleviate the soreness of your muscles.

Soon, aftercare became a must in your sexual endeavors. He lets you lay on his futon (like the sweet princess you are) as he prepares damp towels and warm tea. He regards you with the same sort of attention he showcases his swords: unwavering, focused, and attentive.

"My pretty baby can't walk? Let me give you a massage then."

Most definitely, his initially wholesome massages end up being another round of sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Have you seen this man? He has rippling muscles all over his body. His shoulders are toned; his pectorals have veins protruding shamelessly; and his thighs are so firm, you cum when riding them.

However, Hotaru unconsciously favors his arms and hands the most. He's a swordsmith, after all, and his arms are a tool for crafting the most spectacular weaponry, flexing with each stroke of his hammer against heated metal. With that being said, he enjoys seeing your blissed-out face create the most lewd expressions as he pumps his fingers into you in strong, consistent motions. He also loses sense when you instinctively grasp onto his arms as he pounds into you — missionary style — leaving red marks that attest to how amazingly he pleased you.

On the other hand, he could cum just by looking at your thighs and ass jiggle and shake due to the simplest of motions. It doesn't matter the size of your bottoms, you better prepare yourself for his calloused hand either softly caressing your ass (he does it in public, too) or suddenly smacking you in the most random times. It feels so intimate for him, and it ignites a carnal desire of ownership that gets his dick hard. In other words — sit on his face, and you'd both be sent to heaven in pure bliss.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum basically)

He'd want to cum all over you — on your stomach, your breasts, your face. To put it simply, he regards the sheen of his sticky load on your skin as a signature finale to your intimate night together. He subconsciously does things systematically, so rubbing his cum all over your pussy lips, thighs, and the entire expanse of your soft skin is akin to him polishing a katana. Your whimpering moans are left unheard as Hotaru places his utmost focus on making sure you're coated in nothing but his cum.

(Yes, he cums a lot. You could last plenty of rounds, and he'd still have spurts of his white load dripping from his swollen, red tip — plenty enough to coat you all over.)

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Haganezuka, this man, "borrows" your cum-stained undergarments and stashes at least one in his workshop. When you're engulfed in deep, exhausted sleep in the morning after sex, he pockets your underwear discretely, heading off to the forge. "It's for the sake of stress relief," he'd convince himself.

When he is met with unpleasant news of his clients (Tanjiro) breaking his swords — and he doesn't have enough time to threaten them with his deadly knives — he opts to alleviate his anger by fisting, pumping, and stroking his cock wrapped in your damp panties. It's not as warm or soft as your cunt, but he needs some sort of outlet to release some steam while he's in his workspace.

He'd return your undergarments by the end of the day, and you remain oblivious, once more cumming on another pair that he'd definitely bring with him to work the next morning.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Haganezuka had always been a difficult man. He's aggressive and asocial, exuding a terrifying aura that discourages any individual interested in having him ravish them.

You were his first actual romantic and sexual partner, and your first night together in bed was full of shy whispers and exciting, experimental touches. Worry not, for Haganezuka Hotaru places his entire heart and soul in whatever he enjoys; may it be swordsmithing or fucking you dumb, he'd ensure that he hones his skills to perfection.

F = Favorite Position

He's quite open to any sort of position; in the end, he can adapt and stuff your cunt full, so he doesn't mind as much. However, his cock painfully aches even more when you're under him in a missionary position. It gets him even harder when he bends you in half into a mating press, exposing the entirety of you to him and giving him greater access to your most sensitive spots. He adores seeing your face contort into the most obscene expressions, after all.

Another position he finds himself enjoying is having your back slammed against the wall as he supports your entire weight with his strong arm, pounding into your pussy without any semblance of rationality.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

His brows are consistently furrowed due to his angry and serious nature, so he carries his usual demeanor into bed, often looking at you with utmost loyalty and dedication as he feels your juices coat his veiny cock.

He treats each session with you as if it were a blessed ritual that warrants full attention and care — he is a man of undeniable focus, after all, and he wants you to feel not only the best orgasms of your life but his genuine appreciation and earnestness for you, as well.

H = Hair (how well groomed they are, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Oh, Hotaru has the thickest, darkest locks that frame his face and upper body; undoubtedly, you'd find this trend consistent in his nether regions. He doesn't have high regard for his physical appearance, so the hairs around his cock can be quite unruly. However, they're not unpleasant. They actually provide an interesting texture that rubs at your clit just right with each strong stroke of his length into your crying cunt.

I = Intimacy (how they are during the moment in a romantic aspect)

He initially struggled with expressing his softer, romantic side to you. In time, when he undeniably fell in love with you, he began demonstrating the sweetest actions that leave you simultaneously swooning and twitching in love and pleasure.

When he goes down on you, he gathers his thick strands of hair into a ponytail, in order to ensure absolute focus when he buries his tongue into your slick folds. When you find yourself between his legs — his length prodding at the back of your throat — he tucks your hair behind your ears in the gentlest motion that sends tingles throughout your body.

At either of your climaxes, he'd make unwavering, passionate eye contact with you, often caressing your cheek as you moan in pure pleasure. He always kisses you languidly by the end of your intimate night, lips firmly pressed onto yours, sending a message of love and unspoken promises.

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

As mentioned, he is quite unashamed in pleasing himself when you're not around. When he gets too frustrated and erratic, he hides himself away deep in the woods or in the hidden crevices of his workshop and fists his cock with your pretty mouth in mind. You know how he disappears after his outbursts? Well, now you know what your beloved lover does to mitigate his rage: cumming on his palms and grunting your name in a chant.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

(1) Bondage: he's into tying you up until you fall limp.

You're arms are definitely getting bound to a post as he slams his hips into yours. He gets too flustered when your hands travel across his firm chest to his ticklish sides, and you won't stop teasing, so he ends up grabbing the discarded cloth of his headscarf and nearly-painfully binding your hands together.

"You're my fuckdoll tonight until you get that attitude sorted out. Stay fucking still."

(2) Impact Play: you end up splayed over his lap as he spanks your ass, thighs, and sobbing pussy.

He adores the jiggle of your taut skin with each slam of his wide palms across your flesh. You get even more red and wet with each slap, and he gets off your pitched whines and yelps. Don't worry, he'll kiss you better later.

(3) Public Sex: you have quite risky sex in the village's local hot springs.

You palm your hand into your mouth, hoping that no one would hear your pathetic whimpers escape. It was a good thing that no one else was bathing in the public hot springs at the moment, or they'd become voyeurs to the sinful display of Hotaru bouncing you up and down on his erect cock, making the waters harshly splash around your sweating bodies.

L = Location (favorite places to do the deed)

Coming home to you in your private abode encases Hotaru in a sort of comfort that allows him to not hold himself back when fucking you. Each room in your household has already witnessed your erotic display and heard your lust-filled sounds. Haganezuka can take you anywhere and anytime.

You're cooking him dinner? You're now sprawled across the polished tabletops, pussy being explored by his insatiable tongue. Perhaps, you're doing the laundry? Well, it's best to rewash the sheets haphazardly thrown on the floor, since they once again became soiled by your shared fluids.

M = Motivation (what turns them on or gets them going)

Your mere existence is enough to send blood rushing down his cock, resulting in an uncomfortable tent that only you could relieve. However, he becomes truly weak when you wear his haori (or any of his clothing). His clothes accommodate his bulky, firm muscles, and seeing the same boring clothes draped on your smaller figure makes the head of his dick throb and leak with beads of precum. He figures he has a size kink.

N = NO (something they wouldn’t do)

He dislikes it when you tickle him too much; after all, he'd end up bursting into hiccups of laughter, inevitably falling limp onto you during sex. He wants to be absolutely present during your deed, so you can't use his sensitive sides against him too much.

Apart from that, he would never, ever agree to a threesome — he is, beyond any doubt, a possessive lover. He's not suffocating or anything, but the sensual moments you experience together are too special to him; the idea of sharing you with another sickens him, and the bubbling anger might result in a person being chased with razor-sharp knives.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Hotaru would never fail to offer going down on you; after all, you're his beloved lover, and he yearns to return a semblance of what you make him feel. He does this efficiently by parting your legs wide apart, resulting in a wonderfully painful stretch, as he teasingly — precisely —drags his tongue across your folds up to your pulsating clit. He can have his face buried in your cunt for hours.

On the other hand, he enjoys it thoroughly when you also get on your knees and swallow his cock with your struggling, salivating mouth. You usually end up getting mouth-fucked, however.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough or slow and sensual?)

Haganezuka is a man who can perform both extremes in a skillful, precise manner. He can last hours kissing every crevice of your body, dragging his rough palms across your bare form tenderly. His adoration for you is immeasurable, so he opts to showcase it by treating you as if you were the rarest gem in the whole land. Your body tingles with a subtle, pleasurable static by the time he empties his heavy, hot load inside and all over you.

For the most part, however, he has you bent in half as he adapts a swift pace that has you screaming in immense bliss. The sinful beat of skin-on-skin is erratic and quick in its tempo, and these unbearably rough sessions leave you fucked stupid. Haganezuka smirks at your half-lidded gaze and drooling mouth (he takes pride in how his strength can render you limp and euphoric), and he always makes sure to reward you with the softest kiss.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex)

He dislikes the prospect of rushing your sexual endeavors. He is a man of consistent, immovable focus; of course, he cannot be satisfied by the mere taste of you. He wants to take his time in ravishing you and making you feel absolutely adored with his full, unwavering attention. His lover deserves nothing less, after all.

R = Risk (Are they willing to experiment and take risks?)

As long as it makes you and him feel good, he's willing to try. He's surprisingly open-minded with a lot of uncommon kinks; even if he does throw you a skeptical gaze at first, he doesn't let his hesitance deter him from possibly finding your next favorite position or foreplay.

In the end, he adores making love with you because it is a display of your affection towards one another; so if being experimental and a little more risque strengthens your bond — he'll do it in a heartbeat.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long they last)

Haganezuka is a man with impressive stamina, even at the age of 37. He could relentlessly chase Tanjiro from sunset until the break of dawn — that may be enough to paint a picture of how persistent he is throughout the evening.

He fucks you until daylight with sparse breaks between rounds. He can make you undergo at least 5 powerful orgasms in one night, since he likes taking his time in foreplay and whatnot. However, on nights he deems you deserve more punishment (through a long-drawn-out teasing session), he can edge you for nearly an hour until he lets you cum, ignoring your pleas and teary whimpers.

Your energy may be nearly depleted, but he still has plenty of things he wants to do to you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? Do they use it on a partner or themselves?)

It's interesting to note that sex toys had already existed in Ancient Japan, way back in the Edo Period; with that being said, Hotaru likes to make his own — a metal dildo that prods through your hole right into your cervix. Seeing you withering on the mattress as he angles his sinful creation in precise strokes can make him release his own load. With one hand on the erotic toy, he has more freedom to play with with your puffy, pulsating clit. Nothing makes this craftsman more satisfied than seeing his beloved lover fully appreciate the utility of his creation.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He teases you unintentionally, becoming too engrossed in your sweet pussy and wanting to watch your wetness gradually increase with each lick, nip, and pinch. When he becomes too unaware of everything else but your cunt, you try to prompt him to stop, whining and moaning in disarray as he spares you nothing but a quizzical glance. He's not done yet.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

He usually grunts and groans in a low pitch that reverberates throughout your body. He's not loud, per se, but he definitely ensures that you hear how good you make him feel, so he angles his deep rumbling moans right into your ear, "You feel good, my love. You were fucking made for me."

However, when you occasionally brush your fingertips across his sides (his sensitive, sensitive sides) during sex, you could illicit a full, higher-pitched whimper out of his mouth. He gets flustered whenever you do it, and if you do it repeatedly, he'd get so infuriated that he'd end up punishing you roughly for the rest of the evening. Perhaps, that's exactly what you wanted.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Haganezuka loves to pamper you. He appears like a gruff man with unstoppable rage, but he turns into the softest, gentlest lover when it comes to you. After strenuous sex, he'd lay you down and brush damp strands off your forehead, kissing you tenderly. He prepares a warm cloth that he wipes all over you, ensuring that you feel comfortable and clean.

The next day, he would opt to be a little late in starting his responsibilities in the forge, brushing your hair and bathing with you under a soothing stream of water. He dresses you up with the same attention he shows when stripping you bare.

You better not tell anyone, but Hotaru is secretly a gentle giant — just for you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His body is a force to be reckoned with — brawny muscles (embellished by protruding veins that attest to his physical prowess) are consistent throughout his large frame. You best believe such a trend is applicable to his cock: thick, long, and veiny.

When flaccid, his cock can be measured to about 6.5 inches; when fully erect, his dick grows up to an impressive 8.5 inches, curving ever-so-slightly to the side. His cock head is colored by a muted red that deepens in hue the closer he is to his release.

In short, his cock ensures that your pussy is painfully, deliciously stretched, and the two prominent veins running along his length rubs your warm walls perfectly.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a healthy, manageable sex drive. You usually make love every other day, but if he comes home exhausted from forging the most brilliant katanas, he falls asleep the moment his head of ruffled hair hits the bed — snoring lowly and deeply.

Sometimes, he gets too occupied with making swords (we've all seen how stubborn this man can be), resulting in undetected, pent-up sexual frustration. By the time he rejoices with a newly polished katana, he is also washed with the urge to bury his hardened, throbbing cock into your warmth.

He'd rush home, ignore your scolding tone, and carry you to bed for a rough fucking. This man is so complicated yet so endearing, you simply relent.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

He won't be sleeping until he ensures your comfort. He regards aftercare as a necessary facet of your intimacy, after all. Haganezuka never misses a single step when it comes to the things and people he loves. By the time you're snuggled up in a warm bundle, he'll join you, nuzzling his face on the crown of your head.

He deeply sighs in honest contentment and whispers, "I love you," right before his heavy lids fully close. He always has sweet dreams as long as he's with you.

A/N: I really ended it with fluff, whew. This took a longer time than expected, but I hope you enjoy my take on Haganezuka's NSFW Alphabet. This was very fun to do, regardless.

If you enjoyed this, feel free to send me requests of what you'd like me to do next! I'll try my best in tackling my inbox.

Edit: I changed the picture for the sake of aesthetic. We gotta love his arms.

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nanamiluvs · 3 months

Text

wriothesley nsfw alphabet !

pairing : wriothesley x reader

rating : explicit

wc : 1.7k

warnings : smut content, reader is afab, wriothesley being both a cutie and an ass, handcuffs, biting, breeding, choking, oral (both receiving), wriothesley is clingy, slight cum play, roleplay, jerking off, spanking, creampies, rough sex, it's wriothesley what do you expect, dirty talk

a : aftercare

wriothesley gets cuddly after sex. it may or may not lead to another round, but he loves the feeling of aftermath with you in his arms. has mad separation anxiety, leading him to make sure you're not leaving his side by pulling you closer into his embrace, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

b : body part

wriothesley is everything but a humble man. he knows his body is one sculpted by gods and wouldn't shy away from admitting it. if he has to choose one, he would pick his biceps or torso. if you asked him about his favorite body part of yours, he'd say hips and ass without hesitation.

c : cum

wriothesley is generally a messy person, and there's no exception when it comes to sex. he likes it messy. he likes seeing your body covered in ropes of white cum, loves filling you up to the brim and then fucking his cum back into you. off-white in color and a little thick in density. he also cums a lot, so there's that.

d : dirty secret

wriothesley loves being handcuffed and dominated. treat him like he's some filthy criminal and he's cumming in his pants. also likes it when the roles are reversed, and most likely not going to hide that version of the scenario.

e : experience

wriothesley has had a fair share of men and women in bed before and it's quite obvious. he knows he's experienced, he knows how to make you beg for mercy and come untouched. not proud of it, but not embarrassed either.

f : favorite position

wriothesley's favorite position is doggy style and he doesn't even try to hide it. he loves holding your hips while thrusting into you, fucking like an animal and watching as his cock disappears inside. he would lean forward, press his chest against your back and bite your neck, kitten licks and kisses following. he likes it especially as he can whisper filthy things directly in your ear. that being said, wriothesley fucks in a lot of different positions and likes to try them out, so nothing is off the table with him.

g : goofy

wriothesley has a variety of moods when it comes to sex. if it's usual, he's going to be the little shit he is. if it's intimate and gentle, he will whisper reassurements and praises, repeating how much he loves you and how well you take him. if he's jealous or stressed, it's obvious from how angry he gets.

h : hair

wriothesley likes body hair in general, and doesn't prefer to groom himself often. he's not at the level where it gets in the way, but definitely likes it to be there. he likes it better when you're also not shaven, but it's only a preference for him and not really a game changer. he loves seeing the hair down there get sticky with your mixed fluids, like i said, wriothesley likes it messy. he would shave if you tell him to because he wants to appear as the best form of himself in your eyes. won't tell you he did it because of you, instead saying he had a change of mind.

i : intimacy

wriothesley doesn't see sex as a necessarily romantic thing. yes, it can be, but most of the time it's the pleasure and release it brings. on rare moments of vulnerability, when the your usual act of fucking becomes making love, wriothesley is whipped. he will caress your body, holding you in his arms as he slides into you. he doesn't believe he deserves this moment, not with you. making love is very intimate to wriothesley and it takes a long way of trust to get to that point. regardless, wriothesley mostly fucks and wouldn't change that.

j : jack off

wriothesley isn't shy at jerking off to the thought of you. at work, when he's especially stressed, he doesn't mind palming the bulge formed in his pants, wishing you were there to help him out. he prefers to do it with you, obviously, but when you're away and he has no choise he's alright with masturbating. he also likes to watch you get off by yourself, dick hardening to the sight of you chasing your high.

k : kink

wriothesley has a long list of kinks up his sleeve.

‎ ‎ ‎ biting : wriothesley is a biter. doesn't matter where, doesn't matter when, he will bite and that's that. he will bite your lips while kissing, bite the insides of your thighs before going down on you, bite your neck while pounding into you, just bite and bite wherever he can.

‎ ‎ ‎ breeding : wriothesley would get aroused to the thought of cumming inside you, filling you up with his cum over and over until he sees your belly bulge. he loves to see the cum gush out of your hole, sore with the way he abused it with his cock. also loves it when you say you want to breed him. breeding is one of the things he won't admit he particularly likes, yet it's so obvious with the way he grunts and groans in your ear.

‎ ‎ choking : wriothesley loves having control of you and you having control of him. his hand reaches out to wrap around your neck, pressure just enough for you to feel it yet need more. he would also get turned on when you do the same, choking him while you ride him, he thinks you're just too adorable with your hands around his neck.

‎ ‎ ‎ spanking : considering you have given him the permission to do so beforehand, wriothesley loves spanking you as he fucks you from behind. he thinks it's just so cute seeing your ass redden with the impact, his large palm immediately coming down to soothe the area with his touch.

l : location

wriothesley may get off to the risk of getting caught but he doesn't want anyone else seeing you like that. so sex with wriothesley is mostly in his office, your bedroom, the shower, any closed space where you two are alone can be a place to fuck.

m : motivation

wriothesley gets turned on to everything about you. he's generally a quite horny person, so just seeing your body writhing under his much larger one is enough to keep him going. he's also motivated to pleasure you the way no one else can.

n : no

wriothesley is very much larger and stronger than you and sometimes fails to control his strength. so with him, things like knife play are out the window. he may be extremely kinky and like it rough, but he would never forgive himself if he actually hurts you.

o : oral

wriothesley is a man who will eat you out for his own pleasure. he loves the taste of you, loves dipping his tongue between your folds and lapping up your slick, the taste getting him drunk the more he has it. he wants you to come on his face, to squirt on him. his tongue will work you through your orgasm, careful not to waste a single drop while your walls clench around the small muscle. regardless of how much he likes going down on you, he thinks it's even better when it's your pretty lips wrappiny around his cock, your saliva mixing with his precum and staining your chin. he would hold your head and thrust inside of your mouth, lost in the feeling of your tongue swiping across his member. he likes to cum inside your mouth but he wouldn't mind cumming on your face either.

p : pace

wriothesley is ruthless when it comes to bed. he can and will pound into you without mercy, the bed creaking with the force of his thrusts. no matter he's being fast or slow, wriothesley knows how to push in deep.

q : quickie

wriothesley is up to every single kind of sex, so quickies aren't off the table with him. but he would much prefer a long, dark night to spend with you, to take his time relishing in your body and pleasuring the both of you.

r : risk

wriothesley is talented when it comes to sex, almost everything he tries turns out to your likes. he's very experimental and thinks trying everything at least once won't hurt anyone.

s : stamina

wriothesley can go longer than you ever can. it takes a lot for him to cum, and even then, he can last several rounds with ease.

t : toys

wriothesley doesn't really care about toys unless it's for binding. he loves being handcuffed, he loves handcuffing you, he loves tying you up and he loves getting tied up by you. anything restricting movement is a turn on for him.

u : unfair

wriothesley may as well be a criminal the way how cruel he is during sex. he will use anything and everything against you, wanting to get you all riled up before even properly touching you.

v : volume

wriothesley doesn't moan, but he's definitely a groaner and grunter. almost guttural as he pounds into you, voice deep and low with vibrations straight down to your core. he speaks a lot, too, with dirty talk being an indispensable tool to him.

w : wild card

wriothesley likes being dominated every once in a while. he wants to be at your mercy, to give up the authority and power he has to bear all the time and just submit to you. you wanting to dominate him makes him want to fight back, turning it into a battle of power igniting the thrill in his gut.

x : x-ray

wriothesley is longer than average and quite thick down there with a slight curve to the right. the shaft is a shade darker than his skin, the tip having a reddish tone underneath. has veins sparking up here and there, overall, wriothesley likes the way it looks.

y : yearning

wriothesley has quite the high sex drive, he's going to be up for the act whenever you want him to be.

z : zzz

wriothesley wants to hold you in his arms and drift off to sleep after making sure you did. he tires himself out during each session so it doesn't take long for him to fall asleep. he can stay awake if he wants to, but honestly, why would he?

i might expand on the dirty secret with a drabble if someone requests it bc i know i want that.

#wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact wriothesley #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x y/n #genshin impact smut #wriothesley genshin #genshin x reader

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urrockstar-xe · 3 months

Text

3 teen boys vs 1 pretty girl - j.m x fem!reader

posted feb 10th, 2024 10:24 pm

heres another belated v day post!! :D im working my way up guys look at me go, im running out of valentine themed songs though if you have recs and see this before the 14th pls send them to me!!

summary: John B and Pope have to help out JJ when he's under too much stress over a pretty girl, not proofread, use of Y/n.

masterlist

wordcount: 1.0k

JJ wasn’t one for romantics, never was, never will be. He’s never witnessed real romance outside of TV shows and movies, although now that he has, with his best friend falling in love, JJ still just didn’t quite get it.

Until he met You, of course, because every sweet, enchanting, and cheesy love story has to start with the player meeting the one.

The one that broke down every little wall with a soft smile and pretty eyes. The one who saves everything while simultaneously ruining it all.

At least in JJ’s eyes.

“Dude, just admit you like her” Pope’s words went in one ear and out the other as JJ groaned into the old pillow, dramatically falling onto John B’s couch. “I think he did, just not in a comprehensible way” John B chuckled, shoving JJ’s feet off of his lap.

JJ groaned once more before shifting positions and sitting up on the opposite end of JB. “I don’t know what it is, man. She comes in, introduces herself with a pretty little voice, batting her pretty little eyelashes, smiling a pretty little smile on her pretty little face.” JJ’s voice was laced with irritation, his friends just laughed in response.

“I think JJ thinks Y/n is pretty, Pope.” “No way, really?” Another round of laughter between the two boys made JJ scoff before chuckling a bit as well, he rubbed at his eyes.

JJ’s laughter ended with a sigh, “She’s makin’ me crazy.” John B smiled at his friend, nudging his shoulder. “They have that effect huh?” JB remarked, sharing a knowing look with Pope before Pope pulled JJ up off the couch.

“What am I gonna do? I mean, I gotta really wow this girl, man I mean, she’s perfect” JJ gushed as he stared back at his friend who merely smiled back and shook his head. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, why don’t you go work that out with John B and I’ll continue studying.” Pope proposed the idea as JB stood up, patting JJ on the back before nearly dragging him out of the chateau by the back of his hoodie.

“C’mon, we’re gonna make sure you get your girl by tomorrow night”

JJ and John B loaded up into the Twinkie, heading straight for the closest convenience store. JB distracted his lovelorn friend with loud music that the two teenage boys happily and obnoxiously sang along to. Once they finally pulled up to the store and went inside, John B led JJ to the aisle filled with red and pink colored cardboard, and heart-shaped candies.

“Dude, I don’t even know what kind of candy she likes,” JJ sighed, both boys scanning the wall of options. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.” John B mumbled.

“It’s all just one big guessing game-” John B got cut off by the store clerk noticing them.

“Maybank, I better not catch you stealin’ nothin'.” His gruffy booming voice caught their attention, heads turning towards the sound in sync. “Course not, Mr. Wade!” JJ waved, a small smile on his lips as the clerk shook his head and went back to his initial goal, leaving them alone once more.

JJ watched as John B grabbed one of the blue baskets and started throwing random candy boxes into it. “What are you doing?” JJ furrowed his eyebrows. “She’s gotta like at least one of these, let’s just buy it all” John B shrugged, handing the basket to JJ who turned his attention towards the box full of small stuffed animals.

JJ picked up a small cat before looking at the little dog holding a love heart. “Do you think she’s more of a dog person or a cat person?” “Which one do you want her to be?”

JJ abandoned the cat and threw the dog in the basket, just as John B grabbed a pink bag covered in white hearts and threw it on top of their Valentine's treasures.

“This should be enough right?” John B asked, earning a slightly concerned look from JJ.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the professional here? I’m just the student!” JJ followed him to the counter and helped throw everything in front of Mr. Wade.

“JJ, I don’t think people see either of us and think of the word professional.” and of course, he couldn’t argue with that.

JJ was left to his own devices the rest of the night, John B had a date with Sarah.

He did his best at setting up the bag of goodies, before deciding it was good enough because nothing would be as perfect as you no matter how much he tried.

Finally, Wednesday had come and right around the time you made it outside of your school building you were met with the sight of the Twinkie, eyes watching it as you laughed at something one of your friends said. You said your goodbyes before making your way to the old van just as JJ Maybank came out of the driver’s side and leaned on the passenger’s door.

“Thought you dropped out, JJ.” You smiled at the blond, who happily mirrored you as he approached him. “You know, gotta come back every once in a while, see how the place is holdin’ up without me.” He shrugged, earning a chuckle from you.

JJ cleared his throat, standing up straight. “I wanted to surprise you. Ask you to be my Valentine.” Your smile got softer, that sweet look on your face almost making JJ chicken out but now he was too deep in.

“So ask me,” you said softly, after a moment of waiting for him to continue. JJ laughed, shaking his head. “Right, yeah, sorry. Will you be my Valentine, pretty lady?” His voice was quieter than you were used to hearing, you couldn’t help but cover your face as you felt heat spread across your cheeks. JJ chuckled at your reaction before leaning forward just enough to remove your hands from your face.

“Whadya say?” You smiled at him as he held onto your hands, whispering now that you were so close. “I’ll be your Valentine any day of the week, J.” He smiled back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before letting go of your hands and opening the passenger door, revealing the very same bag that was currently overflowing.

“Awh, babe.” You smiled at the sight, picking up the little dog plush.

“Hope you’re a dog person,” He said, grabbing the bag’s handles so you could get in the van.

“And that you have a severe sweet tooth.”

#jj maybank x you #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x y/n #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #outer banks imagines #jj maybank imagines #jj maybank #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank imagine #outer banks imagine #Spotify

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heartthrobin · 11 months

Text

press your tulips to mine

steven grant x female!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: mutual pining, steven is a shy babygirl, marc playing wingman (but he's kinda terrible at it cause he's also falling in love), no jake (the crowd is booing), no khonshu, steven still works at the museum, post mk s1, no use of y/n

an: rewatched the whole of mk last night and needed to write about my dearest stevie :)) don't forget to repost to support your fav writers

summary: Steven's apartment has become overrun with more bouquets of flowers than any one man could ever find use for, but they would continue to pile up as long as the pretty girl at the flower shop continued to melt him with that syrupy smile each time he walked in.

Steven Grant had never given much thought to flowers.

Sure, he could offer a momentary appreciation for a flicker of yellow growing out the cracks in London sidewalks or maybe if he passed a house with a particularly impressive rose bush he could smile, but beyond that flowers remained mostly inconsequential.

Steven never had girlfriends in high school, or - to be frank - thereafter either.

He’d never had to pick out a bouquet, one that he would need to consider: does this match her eyes? will it match her dress? how does it smell?

In the face of discovering that he was unalone in the occupancy of his five foot nine frame and fighting in the name of an Egyptian moon-god, Steven had less time than ever to consider his frighteningly barren love life or the lack of interest in flowers on account of it.

Isn’t life funny? In the way that we look so far beyond ourselves for answers, when sometimes they’re just around the corner.

Specifically the corner one street over from the museum.

Steven had walked the path to work plenty of times. A designated route. In the days when he still worked at the gift shop, the same route now that he’d been bumped up to tour guide.

Until one otherwise unimportant morning when construction bound his usual way, forcing him a walk further around the block: adding another four minutes to his trip and a view of the quaint shops down Little Russel street.

He hadn’t been down there in months. His last venture had been in search of a pharmacy for sleeping tablets, when Khonshu was still a nightmare and Marc nothing more than a migraine.

Steven noticed first that the pharmacy no longer stood. In fact, the previously white brick face of it’s stand had been painted a lush lemonade-pink. The Petal Parlour.

Almost immediately, in just about the same breath, Steven’s eyes found a woman leaned over a broom and sweeping the edge of the shop step. She was humming, he could just make out a Stevie Wonder tune.

The morning light flickered off your hair as if off the face of a pond out in a beautiful garden. An elderly man passed your work, uttering a greeting, and you'd perked up with a melodic: "good morning Mr B!"

Steven's footfalls stalled down the sidewalk. A man crashed into his back, strewing the contents of his messenger bag around him. "Watch where you're going, asshole!" He'd seethed at him.

By the time Steven had looked up, you'd already retreated back into the shop. He could make out your outline through the stained glass front.

There hadn't been a day since that Steven had taken his normal, considerably shorter, route to work. He got up five minutes earlier each day, brushed his teeth, made a cup of tea and let the memory of you swim behind his eyes. He could hear Marc's sighs every time.

Most mornings you were inside. Steven would deflate when he rounded the block to an empty corner, but he refused to consider it a total loss because - more often than not - he could make out your figure beyond the window fiddling with petunias on a shelf or smiling at a customer.

Some mornings, when he found himself most lucky, you'd be outside the shop. Usually clipping stray leaves off the rows of bouquets that glimmered happily at the people passing down the street. When it rained, Steven was privy to the way your hair clung to your forehead and the smudge of black mascara beneath your eyes. In the sunlight your arms were exposed from under a pink work shirt and a soil-stained apron.

It went like that for nearly a month. Between Steven and Marc's alternating schedules, he learned to appreciate the slim sightings of you he could manage. Marc didn't make it any easier, mind you, with the way he would whine and complain into Steven's ear.

"Jesus, Steven, just go up to her and say hi!"

Once or twice, Marc had managed to gain control of Steven's legs: teetering him drunkenly in your direction.

The fright would rise quickly up in Steven's chest, steering his legs back in the direction he was walking. You'd looked up one of those times, meeting his eye and spilling out a soft laugh that dissolved into a syrupy smile, but he'd rushed off before you could say anything.

Steven's face stayed red that whole day. "See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" Marc jeered.

"That was mortifying." He muttered back.

The bus rocked beneath his feet and his palm was growing sweaty around the pole he was using to steady himself. Frost was creeping up at the edge of the window he was watching out of.

"Okay, so all you're going to do is go in there and ask for ... help with something." Marc clarified again, his voice echoing around Steven's head.

He'd been bugging Steven since he was brushing his teeth before bed the previous night, something about how "I can't handle any more of this, please Steven. Put me out of my misery."

"Help with what?" Steven whispered. A woman looked up at him from her seat. He smiled shyly, turning away from her.

"I don't know ... tell her you're looking to buy some roses. Tell her it's someone's birthday."

Steven nodded slowly to himself. "Okay ... okay."

Marc had worked hard over the last twelve hours at convincing him. The endeavour was initially futile, but after Marc threatened to go in there and ask her out himself with a - frankly insulting - cockney accent, Steven was left with limited options.

He rounded the corner with wobbly legs and The Petal Parlour loomed in the distance. A bunch of sunflowers taunted him with swaying faces.

It drew ever closer and Steven's heart was beating loudly in his throat. The pink brick was crossing his vision now, his footsteps growing heavier, faster, past the floral print on the window--

"Steven don't even think about it--"

Against Steven's will, his legs knotted around each other: collapsing his body in the direction of the white painted door. It crashed open and Marc, more than Steven, caught his body before it hit the tiled floor inside the shop.

"Oh my god, are you alright?"

The shop was cramped now that he'd gotten his first glimpse inside and the three people crowding the space had their eyes on him.

As if appearing from a mirage, you pressed past the people towards him. He nodded frantically, the scalding touch of embarrassment burned his cheeks. "Yeah, yeah ... I'm fine."

Your earrings jingled from where your head was tilted to inspect him. Ringed fingers pressed down over your soil-covered apron. "Okay then, if you're sure."

Your concerned brow dissolved slowly and that syrupy smile he'd seen pointed in other's directions was suddenly overwhelming him with it's warmth. "Well then, can I help you find anything? Are you looking for some arrangement in particular?"

Steven nodded dumbly, he was fidgeting with the edge of his coat. "Yeah ... I'm looking for, uhm..."

"Birthday!" Marc called from somewhere deep in his mind.

"Birthday!" Steven spluttered loudly. There followed a quiet moment of confusion dripping between you and him.

"Jesus, Steven."

Your giggles crumbled into the space before Steven had the ability to conjure more words.

"I-- I'm sorry, I'm being rude ..." Laugher spilt between your words and your cheeks were turning a soft pink, "you want something for a birthday?"

An embarrassed smile had reached up into the corners of Steven's mouth. He liked the tinkle of your laughter, half convinced he could get drunk off the sound. A molecule of pride floated in his chest knowing that he was responsible for it.

"Uh, yes. Sorry, yes." Steven nodded, fidgeting with the bag strap over his shoulder. "Someone's birthday."

"Well, we just gotten some new arrangements in this morning ..." You turned on him, steering across the little shop to a orange, yellow and pink stacked shelf. He followed you tentatively, trying to pretend that he didn't smell perfume where you moved past him. Pretend that it wasn't making his knees buckle.

"They're pretty." He said quietly. You smiled again. You're pretty, he thought.

"Focus!" Marc's sharp voice sliced through his thoughts.

"Who's birthday is it?"

Steven's tongue lodged back into his airways. "Uhm--"

"Oh shit ... uh, say--!"

"My girlfriend's."

"Not girlfriend, you idiot!"

"Oh, alright--" Your hands fidgeted with your necklace, eyes wide.

"My sister." Steven interrupted you again, the argument in his brain between his thoughts and Marc’s voice was rattling his resolve. "I ... not my girlfriend, I don't have ... I don't have a girlfriend."

"You don't have a sister either." Marc quipped.

Steven ignored him. You were watching him with another smile flirting at your lips. "Okay, well, do you know what kind of flowers she likes? Or have an idea of what you want?"

Steven shrugged, head wobbling into a shake. "Uh no ... what kind do you like?"

You seemed taken back by his question. "Oh. Well, I like the tulips. The yellow ones, especially, but they're tough to find around here ... they have tons in Netherlands and Turkey, which not many people know because everyone thinks of them--"

Steven was sure you could see the little birds floating around his head, and how his pupils turned to tiny black hearts: maybe that's why you stopped.

You blushed a velvety red.

"I'm sorry ..." you turned back, hiding your warm face to wave your hand over the shelf of stacked bouquets. "We have some orchids and some irises if you think she might like them?"

"Yes." Steven nodded, hands folding over each other. His eyes were trailing the outline of your profile, savouring the closeness he'd finally been granted. "Those ... they're beautiful. She'll like them."

Your eyes twinkled where you nodded and it made his stomach churn. "Great."

He lingered patiently by the register while you wrapped the flowers with careful hands.

"Say," your gaze flickered up between him and the brown paper. "Do you work around here? I'm sure I've seen you passing in the morning sometimes."

Steven's breath tripped in his throat. She noticed me?

"Yes, now answer her." Marc's voice rung again.

"I-- yeah, I work by the museum actually." His voice stumbled nervously from the back of his throat.

"Oh really? That's so cool!" Your voice lilted with a pitch of interest. "I really like their exhibit on the liberation of India from English colonial regimes. I've only been once or twice though."

Chest buzzing delightfully, Steven nodded. He knew the one you were referencing, it was a couple corridors down from the Egyptian exhibits.

"Well, you should definitely come see the Ancient Egyptian section. The exhibit is huge and we have hundred year old pieces, sarcophaguses and vases and slabs of cave walls with carved hieroglyphics. I work there and it's really the most fascinating--"

"Let her respond, Steven."

But you seemed content to allow him to continue his splurge, your eyes warm and gentle where it caressed over Steven's face. He stopped talking, winding off embarrassed.

"So, uh, yeah."

"You've made a very good case. Maybe I will come visit." You nodded, fingers stroking absently at the edge of the counter. "If you promise me a tour?"

Warm blood rose up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks. "Of course. Anytime."

You handed him the flowers over the stretch of counter. "I never caught your name?"

"Steven." He said quickly, dejection gathering in his throat at the fact that your interaction was nearing a close. "G-Grant. Steven Grant."

You nodded. "Nice name. It's very James Bond."

"Thanks."

"Ask her name!" Marc poked at the back of his brain.

"Uh-- and you are?"

"Oh!" your eyes fell down to your chest where the corner of your stained apron was obscuring the sharpened edge of your name-tag. You shifted it for him to see.

Steven's eyes followed over the letters, he tried your name out on his tongue. It tasted sweeter than he thought a name ever could, rolling off his lips like a song or a bird whistling on a summer evening.

"It's ... it's a beautiful name."

You blushed, eyes moving back to the keyboard for momentary solace before paralysing him with your warm gaze again. "Thank you. I guess I'll see you 'round Stevie."

His mind whirred with how casually the little nickname slipped from you. "Yeah, yeah you will ..."

Leaving the store, Marc called from between the sludge of Steven's muddy mind.

"Good job, Stevie."

Steven was consumed by the interaction the whole rest of the day and when then next morning loomed overhead, he could hardly believe his luck when you were pinching together some lilacs out on the front step where he passed.

Half convinced by the nauseating twist in his stomach to just march quietly past, the decision was made for him when you glanced up from the flowers and offered him a friendly wave: “good morning, Stevie!”

His brain dissolved into a warm, gloopy mess. “… Morning.”

In the coming weeks, Steven’s apartment had become a botanical garden of epic proportions.

Vases and cups and pots, and whatever he could fit a flower into, lined his kitchen counters and his shelves and his bathroom sink with every possible kind of flower that The Petal Parlour had to offer.

Marc grumbled most days, in search of a coffee mug or apartment keys between what he described the “Amazon jungle in here.”

But Steven paid him little mind. It was a harmless jab and Steven noticed in the reflection of the shop’s stained glass window how Marc watched you too, eyes glazed with a soft affection. He mentioned nothing of it to Marc.

Steven had begun frequenting the shop when he could, on mornings he got up early enough or afternoons when the day’s work brought soil stains across your ruddy, tired cheeks.

He’d bought flowers for every possible celebration to be had in London, seemingly nabbing an invite to each one. Bat mitzvahs, birthdays, weddings, farewells, funerals: he’d bought bouquets for one of each kind.

Each visit would play out similarly. He’d step into the shop, maybe once a week or every other week - with Marc muttering somewhere in his mind, we’re hardly gonna be able afford groceries at this rate - and you’d beam at him from behind the counter or from beneath a brightly coloured shelf.

“What’s up, Stevie?”

The nickname made him shiver every time.

“Let me guess … Christmas in July?” You’d tease.

When he’d find you behind the counter, that was his favourite, because you’d lean lazily over it. It blessed him with the view down the slope of your nose, the smell of your fading perfume, the jingle of your clinking earrings.

“Baby shower.” It comes out almost as a question, curling upward at the end.

You’d giggle softly. “Right. Boy or girl?”

It had been long enough that Steven could just about draw out your work schedule.

Fridays you didn’t work, Sundays and Tuesdays you only clocked in the afternoon. He tracked it with the little greetings he got, or didn’t get, as he passed on the way to or from the museum.

“You know,” Marc was fronting an early morning in August, subjecting Steven to a cup of coffee. He hated the stale taste it left in his mouth. “We’re quickly approaching, if not already long surpassed, the point where you need to actually ask her on a date. You know that right?”

Steven remained quiet in the depths of Marc’s mind.

He stayed like that until Marc had cleaned out the mug and stuck a wet toothbrush into his mouth.

“Can I please just get ready for work now?” Steven muttered after nearly twenty minutes of silence.

Marc huffed, letting his eyes roll back and the toothbrush dangle from his lips.

Steven shook out his shoulders, Marc was always so tense. “Thank you.”

It was only when he’d passed the flower shop that he remembered that it was Friday. A group of school kids were expected at the museum around nine that morning.

He was almost grateful for your absence, it allowed him to wallow in Marc’s words for at least one more day. He should ask you out, god does he want to.

The day passed like most of them do.

The school children were rowdy and mostly impartial to the magnificent feats of Ancient Egyptian architecture, but he took another tour around two o’ clock with three couples and a family who were significantly, thankfully, more engaging.

Steven had just wrapped up the hour, on the tail end of explaining how do we know what hieroglyphics mean? to the man who’d asked, when a flitter of shifting fabric floated past the back of his head.

Emerging like a bottle-green wet dream, Steven's gaze found you drifting under the arch between rooms. Your eyes alight in searching, they caressed momentarily over each framed painting and encased ornate vase.

He'd never seen you in anything more than your tight pink work shirt, which - don't get it mistaken - did enough damage to his psyche on it's own, but he immediately knew he'd never recover from the little green dress that clung to your frame.

A square neckline reached past clinking necklaces, long sleeves brushed along your palm - a job Steven desperately wished was his own - and a ruffled edge that teased an upper expanse of thigh which he'd never before been gifted a view of ... and if you shifted just a little, bent just slightly over--

"Hey, thanks a lot. The tour was great."

The middle aged man's face reappeared into Steven's view: dirtied spectacles pressing down the edge of his sweating red nose.

Steven stuttered, eyes flickering between the man's face and your figure in the distance. "Y-Yeah, of course ... anytime, mate."

Your eyes found him, waving a hand.

Uninterested in letting the American tourists keep him from you any longer, Steven slipped past them towards your nearing frame.

"Stevie, hey." You beamed up at his face, hands playing with the strap of your bag: clearly unsure. "You-- well, it was my day off and I thought maybe I could take you up on that tour, but I just saw the board and it says you'd already finished your last one--"

"Hey, hey," Steven shook his head. "No, I'm ... I'm glad you came. I can take you if you'd still like, I'd love to show you around? It will be like a private tour."

He swore he could dissolve under the shine of the smile you gave him. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh—“ you started digging into the bag draped down over your shoulder. “That reminds me …”

Your hand emerged with a single white flower. It’s petals were wide with a barely there yellow dot in the centre.

“I thought it would match the jacket you always wear.” A hand reached out, tugging gently on the corner pocket of his grey trench coat and slipping the flower in so it stuck half out happily. “It’s a white daffodil. Nicked it last night before I closed up.”

Steven’s chest was clenching up with a tightness that felt like his last remaining decisions in this life were to either immediately faint, or kiss you until the oxygen deprivation lead him to faint anyways.

“I—“ His fingers caressed gently at the edge of it’s petal. “Thank you.”

“Give her a compliment, Steven.” Marc’s voice startled him. He was a rare presence when Steven was at work.

The idea prodded at Steven that maybe it was the sound of your voice that had drawn him out.

“You … you look beautiful, by the way.” Steven pressed out, “the dress, it’s — it’s very nice.”

With nervous hands at the edge of the skirt, your looked quickly between the dress and Steven's face. "Ugh, this old thing. Just thought it would be a good idea to get out of my work uniform for a bit."

"I agree ... a great idea." He nodded, "You wanna ... get started?"

"Of course."

Steven lead you over the same route that he walked three times a day, four times on weekends, but somehow still felt itchy between the rooms. He figured it had to do with you gaze pressing curiously over his face, it made his neck hot and he prayed you couldn't see it.

When he spoke, you leaned close into his frame: eyes flickering between his trembling lips and the artefacts he was describing.

"That's so cool ..." you'd whisper to yourself at different points, sometimes a "that's crazy" or a "that's kinda gross", and Steven was drinking in your reactions like a man parched.

The tour closed off at the spot it usually does, with the replica of the Rosetta's Stone near the West Exit. By then, the sun had already sunk behind the backdrop of summer London and Steven's nerves were downright shot.

Your perfume was sending him on a chemical high and he's sure Marc heard every one of his desperate thoughts about the way your fingers tightened around his arm when they'd bump past other visitors moving room to room.

With the dress swaying merrily at your sides, you recounted points of the tour with animated hands flying ahead of you.

"And the way they managed to get those tombs so far underground? Not to even mention the complex tunnelling systems, how much work that would actually take to figure out--"

The tiny birds had returned to flying in circles over Steven's head, Isn't She Lovely was playing absently from somewhere in the depths of his mind.

Your excited hands came to find your sides and you huffed yourself into silence.

Following beside him, Steven lead you two out under the arched gates towards the steps of the museum. The moon twinkled between streetlights, and Steven avoided its gaze. Like he could feel Khonshu’s presence over his shoulder.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He smiled at you, a smile that just about suffocated him.

“Enjoyed it?” You laughed. “It was amazing, I mean, you were amazing.”

He laughed softly too, but didn’t respond.

The silence was beginning to turn stale.

“Now is as good a time as it’s gonna get.” Marc pestered.

“Well I should—“ you pointed obviously over your shoulder, before finding the face of your wrist watch. “My bus will be leaving soon.”

Steven nodded. “Yeah … yeah of course. I had fun, you should come by more often.”

“It was … it was very sweet. Taking me on the tour when you probably had better things to do.” Your hand curled over his forearm again, “You’re very sweet, Steven.”

“And you’re very beautiful.”

The words found the air between them before Steven even knew what he’d said.

Your lips parted slightly in surprise, cheeks brushed with a warm pink: “I— thank you, Stevie.”

Steven nodded, not looking at you and suffocating on his own embarrassment. “I’m gonna— need to go finish up inside.”

An unmistakably wounded look passed over your face. It dissolved as quickly as it had appeared.

“Sure.” It was curt. “I’ll see you round the shop.”

“Steven, if you do not stop her so help me God—“

A flurry of hot and cold feelings were chasing up and down his chest: he watched your figure turn and worked to do the same.

The outline of the museum had barely returned to his frame of vision when the cold hand of his subconscious reached out and dragged him down into it’s icy black depths: now watching the view of his eyes as if from a foggy tape recorder.

Marc stiffened his shoulders, turning to where you were bounding down the steps of the museum, heels clicking on each jump.

He chased down after you, skipping two steps at a time.

“Marc, don’t! You’re gonna scare her!” Steven was shouting now, rattling his already shaky consciousness.

He called your name where you’d just reached the sidewalk. You turned up to meet his face.

In barely fractions of a moment, Marc was able to find some sympathy for dear Steven.

Now that he was faced with you himself, as opposed to the blurry lens he’d been cursed to only peer through before, he wondered how Steven ever conjured up the courage to say more than three words to you.

“Steven?”

The light of the street-lamp was flickering in little circles off your eyes in the dim street and Marc was half convinced to abandon Steven in the darkness.

He didn’t.

Rather, he slipped back down into the shadows where he felt Steven surpass him again.

Your brow bent deeper in confusion, “Are you alright?”

If he had time, Steven might have taken a moment to huff at Marc for not even bothering to turn away when he forced himself back to the front, spared you from the sight of his eyes rolling back in their head. But no, you probably thought he was possessed.

“I, yes, that doesn’t matter—“

He could feel ice cold adrenaline pumping down from his brain. Like he did in the seconds before a fight, when the suit would crawl up over his skin.

“Your eyes,” your hand came close up to his face, hesitant enough to just float in its orbit. “They rolled—“

“Will you go on a date with me?”

You blinked up at him. Once, twice.

The silence was reaching far past the limits that it did in all the romance movies Steven had seen and his palms were growing itchy with the passing seconds.

“When?”

Steven’s head was reeling. He hadn’t thought that far, but why quit while he’s ahead?

“Now. Right now, tonight.”

The surprise was fading from your face, replaced with eyes that were glowing around the corners and a smile that made his heart skip every second beat.

“Don’t you have work?”

“You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“If you promise to still come visit the shop ... I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie. Right now.”

Warmth was flooding back into Steven’s hands. “I’ll set up a tent outside on the sidewalk …” he breathed, “you won’t be able to get rid of me.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Steven nodded. Almost tripping on the step up behind him, “I’m going to tell them that I’m leaving. Just wait right here …“

He’d already moved up two steps, legs buzzing with untamed exhilaration.

“Steven, hold on just one sec—“ when he turned, you’d surpassed the small steps separating you.

He’d barely a chance to turn all the way back around when your index finger hooked between his neck and the collar of his shirt and your lips were on his.

They were warm and soft and Steven had no idea what he was doing.

With his experience being limited to the pool of:

A. The girl he’d pecked in first grade on the swings in the playground.

B. A drunken make-out at a college party for a college he didn’t even attend and,

C. His (mostly Marc’s) ex-wife,

It was nothing short of a miracle when his hand came up to find the side of your neck. When he pulled your waist flush against his.

“Atta’ boy.” He ignored Marc.

You pulled back, Steven was pleased to notice your reddened, wet lips.

“Sorry,” you whispered close against him, voice half-drowned out by the rumbling of taxis in the street and people passing by. “Been itching to do that for a while.”

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