#chatting with cerulean
Note
Whatcha gonna do?
June sighs, laughs, and then nearly explodes
You wanna know the Truth, Nonnie? I am about to go into a meeting debating my worth to a government power. I am about to go into a room and listen as they decide rather I should go up against a renowned and powerful murderer on my own and likely get killed so they can 'find a better plan' or some shit like that.
Cerulean reaches out and lightly grabs her shoulder
Hey, I may not have much experience, but I still get it. I also know you probably shouldn't be yelling this out. You could get caught and that wouldn't be good for either of us.
...I know.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
i am once again thinking about The House in the Cerulean Sea
not anything coherent, mind you, but i am thinking about it
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
terrible crossover idea: the house in the cerulean sea
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ FINDERS KEEPERS, LOSERS WEEPERS! ❜❜
.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: the user "gojoslittleslut" tries to make a move on your boyfriend, but she doesn't stand a chance
contents: fem!reader. it's not too serious, nobody gets angry/jealous (except the comments lol). if u haven't already read the other streamer!gojo works u probably should so u understand the dynamic between satoru and his commenters !
author's note: reader is actually a mature person who doesn't pick fights with random ppl on the internet and i think we should all be more like her ꨄ︎
satoru leans back in his chair, idly chatting with people who pop up in his comments after he finishes his last round of the co-op game. his viewers are eager to chat, and some even shoot money satoru's way to draw his attention. whenever someone donates money, he gives them a quick shoutout and has a small back-and-forth with them, and he does that for everyone.
that is, until a user with a questionable username donates to his stream.
gojoslittleslut has donated $100.00!
gojoslittleslut: notice me pls
"shit, a hundred dollars?" satoru says, raising his eyebrows in mild surprise. "thanks, gojoslittl— oh, fuck, what is that?"
you look up from your laptop and see the way your boyfriend's cheeks have gone bright red. satoru laughs a bit nervously, so you get up and walk over, making sure to stay out of sight of the camera. you sit on satoru's desk beside his computer and peer at his screen curiously.
gojoslittleslut: im ur number one fan~
satoru's eyes flicker to yours for a second before he looks back at his monitor. "ah, well, thanks for the donation!" he replies, completely ignoring the user's advances.
suguru-geto: he has a gf ...
gojoslittleslut: yeah
gojoslittleslut: me
you cover your mouth to suppress a giggle, scrunching up your nose at satoru to let him know that you really weren't taking it too seriously. after all, it's just some random person on the internet—they don't stand a chance with your boyfriend.
satoru reaches over and takes your hand, twining his fingers with yours off-camera. he ignores the sudden burst of comments that litter the corner of his screen, instead watching you intently. in response, you roll your eyes playfully and blow him a kiss, snickering when satoru pretends to faint.
eventually, he turns back to his screen, cerulean eyes doing a quick once-over of his new comments.
toji-fushiguro: ill take his gf any day
inumaki: we know gtfo
gojoslittleslut: toji i get gojo and u take his girl. deal?
toji-fushiguro: bet
"alright guys, settle down," satoru huffs, rolling his eyes. "for the record, i still have a girlfriend and i don't plan on changing that anytime soon," he clarifies, addressing the current feud going on in his comments.
satoru's a good streamer—he does his best to keep things cordial and lighthearted with his audience, but he also knows his limits. one of his limits involves people trying to separate you and him, his one true pairing (of course satoru's otp is his own relationship).
your boyfriend leans closer to the screen and scowls good-naturedly, holding up the hand still wrapped around yours. "this isn't gonna change, so don't even think about it!"
satoru says his goodbyes and then ends the stream, turning to you with a sigh. "how down bad do you have to be to name yourself 'gojo's little slut?'" he grumbles, clicking through his stream analytics and finding the user. he opens gojoslittleslut's profile and studies it for a moment before hovering his mouse over the block button.
he leans back in his chair and tilting his chin up at you. "she just gave me a hundred dollars, so i kinda feel bad about blocking her," satoru muses, tapping his foot on the floor. he looks up at where you still sit on his desk, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. "c'mere," he mumbles, slipping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into his lap with a soft grunt.
satoru rests his chin on your shoulder and nudges his face into your neck, breath tickling your skin. "you know that i'm all yours, right?"
"of course i do," you murmur, settling into his arms. he's warm and comfortable, like always. satoru smiles warmly and kisses the side of your face, letting his lips linger.
"good. 'cause no fan account's ever gonna change that."
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles
8K notes
·
View notes
Text
alphabet tags
#1 and 2#buttt#thats so cool :)#only during winter#grapefruit enjoyer#you're fucked#wish they were like propper green#the house in the cerulean sea#i want to scream#jdjejegshejdj#if u avoid something its like. shit man i didnt know that thing was dangerous. and a threat to our safety!! i better make sure we stay away#why are these like#mcyt#all of the characters need that room too tho not just chat#we need more of it#flower photography#queue#green red blue#sundrop#the secret history#giving him the security growing up that they never had#also i really like the angst potential of ranboo being faced with a version of tubbo that just has no idea who he is#i want to cry#xd#yall never heard of a fucking kettle ??? :')#zoo
0 notes
Text
captain mactavish's reputation precedes him, and yet standing before you as he does now, you can't help but wonder if something got lost in translation.
soap is a riot once you get him going! he used to be even wilder, if you can believe it. always was up for a laugh as a sergeant!
the man before you looks a little grizzled with age--stubble growing out to a beard, face smeared with black warpaint, and yet beneath thick brows, his blue eyes still sparkle despite his glower. handsome though, still incredibly handsome--which in your mind, is a problematic trait for a captain to have, especially one commanding you.
he chats away to one of his sergeants, seemingly unaware of your presence on the periphery. assignment to this task force is only temporary, you reassure yourself. facing the captain's offensive good looks and intimidating demeanour will last a couple of weeks at most.
taking a breath, you step forward, just outside of the circle of captain mactavish and his sergeants. all eyes fall to you, but his are the ones you can't tear your gaze from. he seems to scrutinise you for a moment, cerulean eyes flickering up and down your form.
"you on ma team?" his voice isn't what you expected, and his accent is delicious--you know you're capable of remaining professional despite it all.
"yes sir." you chirp back instantly, obediently--hoping to not get on the wrong side of your newfound crush.
he nods once at each of his soldiers, dismissing them before turning and heading in the direction of the nearby truck. it takes a moment for you to process before your legs catch up to your thoughts and you start following the captain.
"keep up then lass, let's go." he calls over his shoulder, before stopping at the passenger side door.
it's strange how he opens it for you, watching with intense eyes as you pull your gun into your lap and sink into the seat. captain mactavish takes the driver's seat, and quickly gets the car going down the dirt track.
your thoughts start to flood back to you now you're settled in the truck and have a few moments to think before you really need to get your head in the game.
was the captain not expecting your assignment? it was rather rushed, even taking you by surprise. you'd only just had the chance to ask around about the captain before you were on the next flight over. perhaps you should introduce yourself properly.
"i'm--"
your words are cut off before you can even get out your name. "i ken who ye are." he says, voice a little deadpan and jaw a little tight--it makes your heart fall in a way it certainly shouldn't.
the whole situation just left you perplexed. it seemed captain john mactavish definitely contained multitudes, and the gruff man you saw before you was what you would get while you were out on the field.
"then why did you ask if I was the one on your team?" you ask, determined to not fall silent lest the atmosphere suffocate you.
the captain throws his hand over the back of your seat, eyes meeting yours only briefly before he checks the view out of the back of the truck and starts reversing at speed.
"jus' wanted to hear ye say 'yes sir.'"
he glances back to you as he jerks the car around. a smirk tugs at his lips, and then he throws you a wink as you finally get to see that playful side you were promised. "sounds so pretty coming from yer mouth, doll."
#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap mw2#call of duty x reader#call of duty fanfiction#bunny writes
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Sippy Cup | Coriolanus Snow
The war never left you, so you find a way to cope. One where you never lost your childhood. One where the world is still pure and safe. And Coriolanus can't resist that innocence.
Warnings: NON-CON, Dd/lg, Little!Reader, Innocence Kink, Mentions of war, PTSD, Manipulation, Age Regression, Capitol!Reader
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
The first time Coriolanus catches you and Tigris playing Tea Party, you expect to find disdain in his eyes, mockery perhaps. Instead, another emotion blooms in the blond’s cerulean gaze. Curiosity.
It happens on a sweltering Tuesday afternoon, the sizzling summer rays spilling through the half-drawn lace curtains of your bedroom. As usual, you and Tigris are sitting across from each other with Teddy occupying the third seat between the two of you. He is being his sassy self, of course, complaining about the sitting arrangement and wanting more tea cakes on his plate. You scold him, reminding him what happened the last time he went on a sugar high. Teddy’s eyes are much bigger than his stomach.
Nervousness slithered through you when you confessed your secret to Tigris. You didn’t want to, initially. You missed several days of class at the Capitol University in a row and your best friend grew concerned enough to show up at your house unannounced. She found you right here, playing with your dolls and chatting with your bear.
You explained to her that the pressure to be big is too much sometimes, that instead of shaking and crying on the floor of the girls’ bathroom, you come here. Once you enter your bedroom, every single woe vanishes. Your head is empty and your heart is full. You’re a carefree, happy little girl once more.
To your surprise, there isn’t a shred of judgment in Tigris’ eyes when you tell her. She never utters a single bad word about the neat rows of dolls and plushies adorning your shelves, your soft pink walls, your frilly dresses or the ribbons in your hair. When you reveal your little secret to her, what you did to ward off the nightmares, she simply listens, hands on her chest as her blue eyes fill with tears. You tell her the pink helps erase the red. The same red that splattered across the pavement when your parents and brother’s bodies hit the ground during the First Rebellion. You were still holding your brother’s hand when he fell. You held it even as his palm grew cold and stiff against yours. If it weren’t for the Snow cousins prying your weeping form off his that day, you might have stayed there and met the same fate.
Tigris gave you the warmest hug. Then she asked if she could play with you, if that’d cheer you up. You were ecstatic. Since that day, Tigris would play dolls with you, attend your tea parties and even fill out your coloring books with you sometimes. You never have to pretend with Tigris. Don’t have to pretend to be a big girl. Or speak long, complicated words. Or care about big, important things. You can just be a princess in her pink castle.
It’s why ice scatters in your veins when Coriolanus watches you and Tigris from the ajar door.
“You weren’t coming home, so I came to check on you,” he mumbles as he takes in the scene before him. Your face heats beneath Coriolanus’ wide-eyed stare.
Alarm flickers over Tigris’ face.
“You need to learn to knock, Coryo,” she chides. She whispers a gentle apology to you before getting to her feet. She nudges Coriolanus outside of your bedroom and they head to the bottom of the stairs.
Eavesdropping is bad; you know it. Good little girls don’t peep or listen through the door. But you can’t help it. Heart in your throat, you try to hear the whispered conversation between Tigris and her cousin. You only catch snippets. Your best friend’s voice is a little harsher than you’re used to, like she’s a bit upset.
Don’t you dare make fun of her.
She needs this, Coryo.
Stark blue eyes lock with yours from afar. Your heart slams against your ribcage. You hastily shove the door closed, rushing back to your pink wooden chair.
You pick up Teddy and cradle him against your chest. “Coryo is our friend,” you remind him. “He wouldn’t make fun of us.” Teddy is uncharacteristically quiet. You feel tears rush to your eyes, your bear’s doubts starting to creep into you.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
The deep voice rolling over you yanks you from your thoughts. Your head whips up. Coriolanus’ hunkering at your side, his head tilted in inquiry. You glance past his shoulder. Tigris is standing behind her cousin with her arms folded, her wary gaze glued to his form.
“Join us?” you repeat, dazed by his question.
The corners of the blond’s lips lift.
“Yes, it’s a tea party, isn’t it?”
Your gaze bulges. You never expected to hear such words spilling from Coryo’s mouth. He’s always so serious, so very serious, having no time for games. He’s been like that for as long as you can remember.
You wipe your tears and sniffle.
A little defensive, you clutch fistfuls of your pink dress.
“Tea parties aren’t for boys. They’re for princesses,” you state curtly.
Coriolanus’ expression softens as he considers you.
“Then I could be a knight, from a visiting kingdom.” You purse your lips, brows knitting. The blond’s warm breath caresses your ear as he bends over you, “Knights protect princesses.”
You mull it over. It’d be nice to have someone watch over you and Teddy, make sure no rebels storm your castle walls, paint your heart-covered walls red. You pluck your teddy bear from his stool and question him.
“What do you think, Teddy?” A very serious conversation silently occurs between you and your plushie. After a few minutes, you hum and nod, agreeing with him. Your eyes rise to meet Coryo’s. “Teddy says he’s okay with it.”
A bright smile unfurls on Coriolanus’ handsome face.
“That’s wonderful, princess.”
Over time, Coriolanus’ visits grow more frequent. He even gets into the habit of bringing you gifts, like new plushies and sugary treats. Despite your reluctance to include him because he’s a boy and boys can be mean and smelly, the time you spend with him is always a highlight in your day. Coryo is never smelly; he smells like the flowers in the Grandma’am’s garden and fresh pine. And he’s not mean. He never fails to be sweet to you, bowing to you and kissing your hand like a knight would, and always embracing every one of your games.
He becomes a fixture in your weekly tea parties, often accompanying Tigris or showing up when she’s too busy at the workshop to make it.
Somehow he always finds time for you, even if you know he’s so busy with important, grown-up things. You’re delighted. While playing alone is fun, your imagination knowing no bounds, it’s always better with a friend.
Today is one of these days. It’s just you and Coryo hanging out in your bedroom. He spends most of the evening handing you crayons while you color in the new picture book he got you, a comfortable silence swaddling the both of you. Coryo appears content just observing you, a peaceful smile hovering on his lips. The book is full of beautiful drawings of birds and landscapes. You never had one this nice so you were beyond thrilled to start coloring it.
When the sky gets darker outside your window, you sit up. You turn to Coryo.
“It’s getting late. I guess it’s time for the tea party to end. It was lovely of you to visit us, Sir Coriolanus and we hope-”
“Tigris said you were having nightmares,” he interrupts.
You go still, the crayons between your fingers clattering to the floor.
“That was a secret,” you mutter, your chest clenching. Why would Tigris tell him that? She’s your best friend. She should keep all your secrets forever. As you simmer in disappointment, Coryo places his fingers under your chin and lifts it. Your tearful gaze meets his.
“You can trust me too, princess,” he assures softly.
As you drown in his gaze, you get lost in a memory. Suddenly all the pink in your room is gone. Unmoving bodies. Gaping mouths. Hollow eyes.
Bright red ribbons flowing from their mouths. Crimson confetti popping from their bellies.
Everything in your vision becomes red.
You curl against the edge of the bed and close your eyes.
Hands on the side of your head, you take a deep breath. You slowly open your eyes again. You focus on the plushies sitting on your shelves until the somber clouds over your thoughts turn into cotton candy again.
You coax a shaky smile onto your lips.
“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just play?”
He chuckles.
“It’s too late for games, princess. Isn’t it your bedtime by now?”
“Then I guess you should go, Coryo,” you say, resting your chin against your knees.
Coriolanus pauses, studying you for a while.
His next words are barely above a whisper.
“Or I could stay.” His large hand drapes over yours, covering your knees. “I could sleep in your bed with you.”
Shocked that he’d even suggest such a thing, you gasp.
“Boys and girls don’t sleep in the same bed,” you mumble.
He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his blue eyes.
“But I’m not a boy. I’m your knight, remember?”
Happiness flows through you with this reminder.
“Yes, you are,” you chime.
His fingers slowly drag over your joined knees.
“Actually…I could be more than your knight, princess.” His gaze locks with yours. “I could be your daddy.”
Your forehead creases, confusion mounting inside you.
“My daddy?”
His lips twist in an uneven smile.
“Yes…daddies protect their little girls. Just like knights.” His fingers drift down to your ankle, the warmth of his touch seeping through your thigh high socks. “They don’t let anyone hurt their pretty princesses. And they keep the nightmares and monsters away at night.”
Amazement colors your tone with this knowledge.
“Really?”
“Of course.” He cups your cheek. “I could sleep in the bed with you and keep my little girl safe that way.”
“I could even tell you a bedtime story.”
Your eyes light up. “A bedtime story?”
He fondles your cheek, his expression softening.
“Of course, anything for my sweet little girl.”
You climb into bed, your entire body shaking in anticipation. Coryo removes his shoes. He picks a book from your shelf and joins you on the bed. He gets under the covers with you and tucks your head against his chest. He opens the book to the first page, his tone patient and clear as he begins to read the tale to you. Your lids sag as you relax against Coryo, his fingers absently stroking the top of your head. You get engrossed in the story of a princess who gets lost on her way home. Lulled by his deep voice, you sink into sleep before the story’s even done.
For the first time in a while, a dreamless slumber welcomes you that night.
When Coryo’s tall frame slips through your door that day, hope twitches inside your chest.
Tigris promised she’ll come today. She’s canceled on you so much lately and expressed how awful she feels about it, so you have been looking forward to seeing her again.
For some reason, work has been exceptionally busy these last few weeks. And while you understand how important work is to your best friend, you’ve missed her so much.
However as he clicks the door shut and you realize no one’s trailing behind Coriolanus, your shoulders slump.
The faint hope you harbored withers away.
“I thought Tigris was coming today.”
Coriolanus sighs as he inches towards you.
“I know princess…” He plucks your hands from your lap. “But there was an emergency at the dress shop. It’s gonna keep her the whole night.” His lips graze the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, she said it was more important than being here.”
Your mouth flies open.
More important than being here? Coryo’s words drive a dagger through your chest, his sympathetic expression twisting it even more.
You lower your head. Tigris has had a lot of emergencies lately. You hardly spend any time together anymore. Part of you even wonders if maybe she’s sick of playing with you. After all, Tigris is a big girl with many things to do. You know she dreams of becoming a stylist and that’s likely more important than silly little girl games. You swallow the tears threatening to fall from your eyes.
Coryo cradles your face.
“But daddy’s here to play with you.”
Your voice trembles as you quell a sob. You look at him, warmth flowing through your chest. Your daddy’s right. You have no reason to be sad. After all, he’s with you. Just like he’s held you against him so many times in the last few weeks, reading you stories to help you fall asleep, and cheering you up whenever you felt sad, you can always count on your daddy.
“That’s amazing, daddy.”
His eyes seem to flare with an idea.
“Actually I thought we could play a new game today.”
Curiosity widens your gaze. “A new game?”
Coryo pulls you closer, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.
“Yes.” He pauses before revealing slowly, “It’s called ‘Mommy and Daddy’, princess.”
“Mommy and daddy?” Your brows squeeze together in confusion. “Tigris and I have never played that before.”
Coryo licks his lips, his gaze running over you.
“It’s a special game between daddies and their little girls,” he explains, his tone lower than before.
“I don’t know it.”
A deep chuckle parts from his lips. You frown, not understanding what’s so funny.
“I know you don’t, sweet girl,” he says. fondling your cheek. A tilted smile blooms on his lips. “It’s okay because Daddy can teach you all about it.”
You feel nothing but complete trust as Coriolanus nudges you backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You look up at him, a mix of confusion and curiosity written on your features. He smiles at you, sinking to his knees to remove your shoes.
You watch him do it, wondering why they need to be off for the game. Your daddy’s palm lingers on the sole of your socked feet, his finger traveling upward, dragging over your ankle.
His eyes look a little weird now, though you can’t explain in what way. You frown, the air around you growing colder.
Did you forget to close the window?
He crawls over you, pushing you down on the mattress. Coriolanus’ smell surrounds you and your nose twitches. You’re not used to being so close to him. You can make out every detail of his handsome face, trace every one of his long lashes, and distinguish every line on his face.
He scrutinizes your form beneath him, one hand beside our head while the other sweeps under your thigh.
“What’s going on, daddy?” you ask, your voice trembling.
“It’s a game that’s easier played on a bed, princess.”
You give a nod of understanding. He strokes the side of your face, pride lacing his tone.
“Such a good girl.”
He bends his head against your shoulder. You hold your breath, a little uncomfortable for a reason you can’t place. Daddy drops a kiss at the base of your neck. Goosebumps spark on your skin. His kisses go lower and lower, his large hands following the same path.
When his fingers land between your legs, your eyes go wide with confusion.
“D-Daddy, what are you doing?”
A soft gasp leaves you as he begins to rub your cotton panties.
“There’s a special place where daddies touch mommies,” he whispers. He clutches at your center and the breath dies your throat. Your body gets hotter, your belly tightening as he pinches you in a particular spot. Coriolanus’ fingers go up and down. It both hurts and doesn’t hurt. Twisting and pulsing in a foreign way the more he touches you. Overwhelmed by the feeling spreading all the way to your toes, you cling to his arms for support.
His blue eyes are glued to your squirming frame as he traces circles around that little spot that leaves you feeling strange.
The hand besides your head moves, drifting to unbutton his pants. Your heart skips a beat as a part of your daddy you never saw is revealed to you. It’s big and red at the tip. You tense, heat rushing through you as you look away.
“Look at me, princess,” he instructs, drawing your quivering chin back to him. He presses himself against your little girl parts. Whimpers spill from your mouth as he humps you through your clothes, pinning you underneath his frame.
His hot breath rolls over your face.
“How does it feel?”
“A little weird.” You shake your head, a surge of tears threatening to break free beneath your lashes. “I don’t know if I like this game…”
He frames your chin, squeezing more tightly than usual. “Do you want to make daddy happy, princess?”
“Y-Yes,” you stammer.
His thumb skims over your shuddering mouth.
“This is daddy’s favorite game to play with his princess.”
“Okay…”
Your mood sinks. You’re liking the game less and less the longer it goes on, but you don’t want to disappoint your daddy who held you almost every night to chase away the bad dreams. His daddy thing gets heavier and bigger against your belly while he moves. He grunts, his throat rippling. The sensation is almost too much to bear, your vision swaying as he stimulates your little girl parts.
Daddy’s game is a little strange, you’re starting to think, and it’s making you feel weird things. Weird, tingly things. And it makes the room spin like a carousel.
You try to close your legs, stop the wave of strange, uncomfortable feelings…But Coriolanus wedges himself between your thighs, forcing your knees apart.
“Daddy…”
His brow twitches. “Shh, let daddy take care of you, princess.” His lips cover yours, smothering all your doubts. You feel bruises form on your mouth and cheek as he kisses you harshly. Lips trailing down to your neck, he pulls your panties down your legs.
There’s barely time for you to register the cool air hitting your bare center before he’s starting to push himself in. The pain strikes you mute at first. Just the tip of him is so much. Too much. It feels like you will break any second. Coriolanus pants above you, straining to fit as you squeeze around him, fear and pain throbbing through you.
“It’s okay, princess. Daddy’s got you,” he mutters.
When he sinks even further, a broken sob leaves you. A fire burns you from inside, amplifying every time your daddy moves ever-so-slightly.
Tears fill your eyes to the brim.
“I don’t like this game, daddy. Can we stop playing, please?”
He wipes your tears with soft kisses. The words pouring into your ear, while uttered sweetly, are firm. “The game’s not over until daddy says it is, princess.”
Your breath falters as he goes all the way inside. He hums deep in his throat, draping himself over your shaking frame. Your head lolls to the side, your eyes wandering to your dolls and stuffed animals. The abrupt urge to poke their eyes out so they don’t have to see any of this blooms inside you. Tears stream down your cheeks as Coriolanus thrusts inside you. His throaty moans mingle with the slapping of skin against skin. The noises your daddy makes get louder every time he slams into you. He spreads your thighs more, pushing deeper. When you tighten around him, your daddy moans, his eyes rolling back.
“You’re squeezing daddy’s cock so well, princess,” he lauds, knuckles dragging over your temple.
He goes faster, hitting sensitive parts that draw sharp noises of agony from you. Every part of your body is wide awake with pain and discomfort. Numb with a plethora of confusing, terrifying emotions, you don’t move as his hips snap into yours relentlessly.
The game lasts for hours, it seems. You’re thankful when daddy appears done, his movements getting sloppier as his pace slows.
As his hips stutter, his hand wraps around your jaw.
“Daddy’s going to come inside you, so you have to say ‘thank you’”
A hoarse sigh leaves him, his lashes fluttering as he empties himself inside you. You shudder.
“Thank you for coming inside me, daddy,” you mechanically repeat. Bile rises in your throat as the excess gathers around your folds, pooling over your once pristine white sheets.
His sweaty form folds over yours. Another tear slides down your cheek.
“Such a good girl for me.” He buries his head in the crook of your neck and coos, “We’re going to play so many fun games together, princess.”
Your stomach curls with dread at that promise.
#dark!coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#hunger games#tbosas fanfiction#dark!coriolanus snow x reader
858 notes
·
View notes
Text
an absolute nuisance
summary - harry is a nuisance in the morning
pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader
word count - -1k
♾️🩶♾️🩶♾️🩶♾️🩶♾️🩶♾️🩶♾️🩶♾️🩶♾️
“What’s this for?” Harry sat up in bed against the headboard.
The duvet was pushed down onto his lap so his bare torso was showing. There was a little roll or two where his stomach was tucked over from where he was sitting.
“Happy first day of spring!” You smiled cheerily.
You felt happy this morning.
The sun was shining into your bedroom, the sky was cerulean blue and the birds were chirping away.
You handed Harry his mug of peppermint tea, which he religiously had every morning, whilst you enjoyed the classic english breakfast tea. Milk, no sugar.
“Thank you, m’love.” Harry smiled, giving you a moment to kiss him softly before you situated yourself beside him crossed legged.
“Sleep okay?”
You took a sip of your drink even though you knew it would be too hot.
Harry kept his hands around his mug as if it was the middle of winter, more out of habit than necessity.
“Mm, yeah. You?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going ‘round to Noel’s this afternoon to drop off some tech gear.” Harry told you.
“Okay.” You nodded, “I’ve got work at 2.”
“When do you get off?”
“Should be about 6, but you know what they’re like.” You rolled your eyes.
“If Katherine keeps you for extra hours again, love.. I’m going down there myself to kidnap you.”
You chuckled, “Kidnap me?”
“Yeah. I’ll stage the whole thing. I’m an actor now, you know?” He winked at you, carefully taking a sip of his drink.
“Okay, Mr Hollywood.”
You stayed chatting about everything and nothing whilst you enjoyed your morning teas, before you decided to start getting ready for the day.
“Where you going?” Harry asked, his hand softly stroking small circles into the exposed skin of your thigh.
“Need to get ready.”
You reached over to draw the loose hairs away from his eyes, allowing your hand to brush over his cheek as it moved due his face.
Harry warmed at the feeling, his cheeks glowing in colour as your skin moved across his.
“Don’t go.” He pouted.
You moved from your cross legged position to sitting on your legs in a kneeling position. You leant closer to Harry and cupped both of his cheeks with your hands.
“I’m only going to get ready.” You kissed him. He kissed you.
“Wanna stay in this moment with you forever.” You kissed again.
“And make me late for a shift with Katherine? I don’t think so. If I had a dick, she’d cut it off.”
Your words sent a laugh through Harry, him complaining how sometimes you really did know how to ruin a moment. You took it as a compliment, because sometimes it would a good tactic to have.
“She’ll cut off my tits instead.”
“No!” Harry pretended to be horrified, which sent you into a fit of laughter. You sank you face down into the crook of his neck to hide yourself.
He smelt so good. And how? It was first thing in the morning and he smelt so homely and perfect.
Harry took the moment to his advantage, pushing himself over you and trapping you underneath him. The manoeuvre was too quick for you to even understand the logistics of it.
“Harry!” You sighed with a giggle.
“You have four hours before you need to leave.” He whined. “Stay with meeee.” He buried his face against your neck and left a trail of kisses there, getting close to the spot behind your ear that made you melt.
“But I need to do stuff.”
“Yeah? Like what? Maybe love on your boyfriend?”
“Gonna be just my friend in a moment if you don’t let me go.” You huffed.
Harry’s head perked up at that. “There’s nothing friendly about what you did to me last night.”
“You make it sound like you were helpless…” You giggled.
“I was!”
“Oh give over.”
“You had me completely surrendered.”
“You’re such a nuisance.” You groaned, trying to lift up but he was too heavy for you.
“And yet you love me. Sounds like you’ve got the issues, babe.” He teased you.
“I hate you.”
“I love you too.” He kissed you. Reluctantly, you kissed him too - which only ended up with you staying in bed for another four hours…
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfic#ask finelinevogue#harry blurb#finelinevogue#harry styles concept#harry oneshot#harry styles blurbs#harry styles spring fic#harry styles boyfriend
734 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do bf!Rafe fingering reader pls xx
Do I sound like an idiot for asking if this means best friend Rafe or boyfriend Rafe? I’m going to assume best friend, but I could be so wrong. 😅 I’ll write it again if differently. ❤️
You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. Was it the Gruaud Larose 1945 from dinner? Or the joint you two had shared after sneaking off from the table as your families chatted amongst themselves? There was something in the air that night as the two of you sat outside, laughing at something stupid Topper had done the day before. Maybe it was because you sat closer to him than usual, or maybe it was the way his eyes raked over your lips more than usual. It could have been the fact that both you had feelings for one another that you couldn’t deny anymore and the closer you sat and the more he looked at you leading you two where you were now.
“Rafe..” You breathed out, sitting on your elbows as the thick fingers of your best friend slid in an out of your sopping hole.
He was kneeled before you, something you never thought Rafe Cameron would do. He glanced up at you with those cerulean eyes and a handsome face. “What beautiful?” He hummed, curling his fingers against your g-spot.
You wanted to tell him to stop. That your friendship was going to be ruined if you both kept going. It was as if he knew exactly where to touch you, leaving you at a loss for what to say anymore.
“Shit…you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He mumbled, it taking all of him not to completely ruin your perfect pussy.
You couldn’t help but stare at him as he was between your legs. As much as you were afraid to ruin your friendship with him, he looked like he belong down there. Before you could stop your thoughts, the words were leaving your mouth.
“Kiss me.” You whispered, causing his movements to stop.
He let out a chuckle, fingers not leaving your cunt as he slowly stood up. Without hesitation, he leaned down towards your lips and captured them sweetly in a kiss. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, the feeling indescribable as he moved his tongue with yours.
“You are such a good girl for me. Yeah?” He whispered between kisses, his fingers pulling out only to slam them back in.
You let out a small gasp, not only from his movements but his voice. Something about the way his tone was, had your tummy fluttering and pussy clenching around ringed fingers.
“Fuck.. pretty girl. Make that pussy cry for me.” Your best friend husked between your lips, making you gush around his digits.
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron prompt#rafe cameron blurb#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#obx#obx smut
552 notes
·
View notes
Note
can it be done quickly? Depends what's up!
Well! If you don't mind my interjection, June-bug here currently is about to, insanely might I add, go into a meeting that is debating if she-
Cerulean is cut off by June
Ceru I don't want to think or talk about it. Just. I need to get it over with. They won't let me leave until it's over, okay?
She sounds frustrated. Maybe even a bit afraid.
1 note
·
View note
Note
Consider lovely charming Soap trying to make an innocent reader swoon for him, all for the reader to unintentionally pull an uno reverse on him. Hes chatting their ear off, talking himself up. All of sudden the reader interrupts him and says that he has the prettiest eyes they've ever seen. Johnny starts to malfunction, he can't talk, his face is going red hot.
Usually he doesn't get so tripped up but it came from such a genuine place, he tongue tied. Instead of him being a cassanova like usual he's just staring at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes and pining for you.
Blue Eyed Casanova
Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader
18+ MDNI Sexual Themes
Synopsis: Johnny Casanova pulls you in with his eyes, and you shake up his world with nothing but an unconscious whisper.
--
Look, you can't just throw Johnny's eyes out there and not expect me to go a little crazy. His baby blues fill my soul, okay.
I went back and forth on this for a while. Wanted to do a full fic but went for the drabble instead. Hope you like it.
Also including this with @glitterypirateduck SoapItUp Challenge. Used Prompt 29.
Happy Super Soap Sunday 🧼
You never thought you'd be so enthralled by a man while sitting at a coffee shop.
Hanging on every word, ears perking to the subtle nuances of his thick accent. Going all doey eyed as he reminisced about his younger years back home in Glasgow.
Eyes tracking his hands as accentuated his stories with gentle, undulating movements. Glancing every now and then at his luscious lips that just begged to be kissed.
You had to pull yourself back a few times. The urge to lunge over the table and lock him in an embrace, making your skin tingle and stomach churn with overwhelming eagerness.
But it was his eyes. Those gorgeous, cerulean orbs that sparkled like diamonds in the soft light of the morning sun. A blue that enchanted, pulled you into the maelstrom of his soul, and you were nothing but a wading vessel lost in his turbulent sea.
-
"You have such pretty eyes, Johnny," you whispered under your breath. Barely audible.
Johnny froze mid sentence. Hands raised, cupping the bulk of his account between his palms with his mouth agape and eyes twinkling in boyish bewilderment.
"W-what ya say?"
You smiled. Unashamed at being caught by your verbal plunder.
"I said, you've got the prettiest eyes I've ever seen."
Johnny closed the cavern of his gaping mouth with a dramatic gulp. Adam's apple undulating beneath the flesh of his neck as a rosey hue radiated over the circumference of his cheeks.
And those eyes glistened. Exploding waves of color like a supernova within the whites of deep space.
"Uh- me eyes? Ya- ya like me eyes?" He stuttered. That confident Casanova overtaken by childlike astonishment at the most beautiful words he'd ever heard.
"Yeah, Johnny. I do."
"Um, thanks. Got 'em from me mum. She's got th'most hypnotizin' stare I've ever seen. Y'know, the kind that..."
You couldn't help the curl to your mouth as he rambled on once more. The skiddish waiver on his tongue was all the confirmation you needed that your words had had the unconsciously planned impact.
You leaned over, just enough to cup his jaw in your hands to render him silent to your oncoming approachment.
"You talk too much," you purred, just before placing a tender kiss on his welcoming lips.
A subtle moan reverberated deep within his throat, making your eyes flutter closed as it vibrated against your mouth and echoed down the curve of your spine and into the hollow of your core.
The faintest gasp escaped your lips as you felt his tongue beg for entry into your mouth.
Granting him. Tasting him. Savoring the flavor of espresso and last night's whiskey on his breath as the calloused flesh of his palm cupped the supple curve of your jaw.
You wanted more. Needed more. Begged for the world to disappear and let his skilled hands work you over as his mouth greedily devoured your heart and soul.
The last remnant of your sanity made you pull away. A hushed whimper fell from your lips as your eyes cracked open to see the very flushed face of one breathless Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish.
"Steamin Jesus, lass. Was tha' your plan th'whole time? Makin me swoon all over ya, only fer you to get me all wrecked by them pretty words a'yers?"
"Maybe. Did it work?"
He nodded. Eyes swirling, bright blue darkening like an approaching storm.
"Aye. It did."
He leaned in to take your lips once more, yet you halted him. Pressing your fingers to his mouth while you pursed your lips with a knitted brow.
"Not here. Need somewhere more private."
"Why? Cannae I kiss ya out in public?"
A devious smile crept into your lips. Leaning in while simultaneously grabbing at your purse. Bringing your mouth to his ear to mutter the sweetest temptation and force a pleasured shrill down his spine.
"I don't want you to kiss me on my lips up here, Johnny. I want to see how pretty those eyes are gonna look between my thighs."
Drabbles Masterlist
@deadbranch @sofasoap @punishmepunisher @d3athtr4psworld @glitterypirateduck @shotmrmiller @ghosts-goldendoodle @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @obligatoryghoststare @homicidal-slvt @jynxmirage @queen-ilmaree @thetrashpossum @tacticalanxiety @simpingoverquestionablemen @mykneeshurt @kkaaaagt @haurasha @havoc973 @luismickydees @foxface013 @designateddeadend
#blue eyed casanova#super soap sunday#soapitup#soap squad™️#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap mactavish#john mactavish#soap x you#soap x fem reader#johnny mactavish x you#johnny mactavish x reader#cod fanfic#soap cod fanfic#call of duty#cod
655 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, I’ve never sent a request before so forgive me if this sounds weird I’m still learning how to use Tumblr lol but what if Eddie and reader go to Roan’s school for parent-teacher conference and her teacher shows them something Roan wrote or made expressing how much she loves her new mom and her new little family🩷 and reader cries from how happy and loved Roan and Eddie make her feel🥹
ty for ur request, it doesn't sound weird at all! eddie and roan —you and eddie attend roan's PT conference, stepmother!reader, 1.2k
You hide from the biting winter wind in Eddie's side. “Is it supposed to be this cold?” you ask.
“You sound surprised. It's December,” he says, though he puts his arm over your shoulders to cover as much of you as he can. “I told you to wear a coat.”
“The coat ruins my outfit,” you say.
“You being cold ruins the outfit.” He nods towards the step up into the school building. “You could say the outfit ruins what's underneath–”
“What's wrong with you?”
“An appreciation for my wife?”
“Stop saying that, you're confusing people. Steve asked me last night if we got married in private–”
“You're always talking to Steve,” Eddie complains, “he doesn't even call me anymore, he just wants to talk to you.”
He'd called to ask if he was still babysitting, actually, but Eddie wouldn't know that because he and Roan had been playing monsters at the time, speaking to each other in gruff tones while they made sandwiches for dinner.
“You have a problem.”
Eddie can't decide whether to bicker or dote, squeezing you tightly, a promise about new problems lost to the growing ruckus of the elementary school after hours. Some parents have brought their children, but the majority stand chatting in lines to see the teachers. You and Eddie have come through the main entrance of the building rather than the side door where Roan enters, and the walk to Mrs. Lundy's room is longer than usual, though far from unpleasant. Light shines through the windows where a rainbow of creatures have been painted, leaving glowing shapes of apricot, cerulean, and lilac on your skin as you pass.
“You're like a Christmas tree,” Eddie says.
“I just need some tinsel.” You point at the decorations hanging from Mrs. Lundy's doorway. “Like that.”
“You want some tinsel? I'll get you some tinsel, baby, just give me a minute. And maybe distract her.”
You refuse to help him steal from Mrs. Lundy, and spend your time in line waiting with his hands held firmly in yours to prohibit any theft. Eddie moans about being jailed but is otherwise content. He quite likes it, actually, rearranging your fingers to stroke your knuckles.
Mrs. Lundy is smiling, happy to see you and brag about your girl. She starts with Roan's general education, her behaviour, her grades, though this young she doesn't have grades so much as milestones. Roan is smart but no wizz kid (not that you care), she's kind (but not always good at sharing), she's loud, and rambunctious, a great artist, and she's very, very happy.
“She talks about your wedding all the time. Every day. She tells us she's going to be the flower girl, and the best man, and that she has a beautiful dress.” Mrs. Lundy beams. “She's walking on sunshine.” The teacher's smile turns soft, almost wistful. “Well, she's Roan. You know what she's like better than I do.”
Your cheeks ache with pride.
“She's a good kid,” Eddie says.
“Yes!” Mrs. Lundy reaches across the desk for a turquoise-coloured folder. “There was actually something I wanted to share with you both… You know we have creative writing assignments, and obviously we help them with making real sentences, but what she has to say is very much of her own volition.”
Mrs. Lundy pulls a sheet of paper from the folder and puts it down in front of your hands. “The prompt was what makes you happy,” she says.
The first sentence is simple.
My mommy.
A drawing of you decorates the page above the lines, so clearly you, your smile wide and pink.
My mommy is kind and I love her. Dad sayd the wedding is speshul becase he loves her, but she will be my mom. She makes me so happy. Mommy says she loves me all of the time, and she brushus my hair. My best part of the day is when Y/N comes home and hugs me. We are so happy, and Lucky gets dinner. I love my dad too, and Uncle Wayn.
Her spelling errors have been corrected in green pen, and her backwards letters are written forwards for her to copy. You read the entire paragraph in a blur, thinking about how long it must've taken her to get it all down, nearly an entire page in her bubbly handwriting, big letters running off of the page.
“Needless to say,” Mrs. Lundy says, “that most children write about their families, or their pets, or their toys. But Roan was extremely focused on the word love. She's clearly going home to a loving home every night.” Mrs. Lundy smiles at Eddie. You nearly miss it, reading the paragraph again, and then a third time.
“Can I take this?” you ask, clearing your throat, tears brewed and bobbing on your waterline, desperate to be shed. “Is that okay?”
Eddie laughs and elbows you in the arm. “Come on, it's hardly news.”
You wipe your eyes before you can cry in front of them both. “I'm sorry, just– can I?”
Mrs. Lundy beams again, emphasising the well-worn smile lines at the corners of her lips and creasing beside her eyes.
You hold it together well for a little while. Eddie talks over your wobbly silence, a hand on your shoulder, assuring Mrs. Lundy that you're all, in fact, very happy, and he's just glad that Roan is being a good student and friend to her classmates. Mrs. Lundy's kindness and Roan's love letter to you has knocked you entirely off kilter, and you're crying before you've reached the car. They're happy tears.
“Come on,” Eddie says, taking the paper you've folded carefully from your fingers as they clench. “She's said nicer to you in person.”
And sure she has. Roan loves hitting you with the saccharine when you're not expecting it. Drying her hair after bath time, totally distracted, she'll kiss your cheek and say, “You're so pretty.” She sprinkles I love you's wherever they'll fit like her dad does, and she shows it with little gifts and cuddles and invitations. Y/N, do you want to have a fashion show with me? Y/N, can we have ice cream in bed? Can I do your hair, please, mommy?
“It's different. It's different,” you insist, scrambling to find the words. “She's…” You rub your eyes. Your makeup is smudging, but you can't help it. “I don't even know what to say.”
Eddie shrugs. Lean shoulders, a loving arm behind your back, the car in sight but getting no closer, he comforts you in the middle of the parking lot while the passing headlights kiss your shoes. “You know how much she loves you, babe. This is a good thing, right? You're not upset?”
“Not upset,” you clarify.
“Okay, good. Is this a bad time for me to say that I am profoundly jealous right now? I used to get all the drawings and cards, I used to get Mother's day gifts. I have a mother's day card up in the attic… might have to get it out,” —he kisses your cheek— “just to cope.”
You laugh through a sniffle. “Let's go get it,” you say.
He presses Roan's assignment back into your hand. “You can keep that one, but don't get it out around me. I'm serious.”
#eddie and roan#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#dad!eddie munson#dad!eddie munson x reader#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader#stranger things 4
840 notes
·
View notes
Text
GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ I WANNA SHOW YOU OFF ❜❜
.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: some other streamer's been buying you gifts, but satoru knows he can spoil you better.
contents: fem!reader. kinda sorta clingy!gojo. more toji slander hehe. inumaki and megumi gang up on gojo. like always. oh also you guys kiss on camera! tagging @sutorus and @yunymphs ꨄ︎
author's note: ughhh he's such a pretty pathetic loser i wanna shake him silly :(
"oh, satoru, someone sent me another gift!" you say with a smile, beckoning him over to look. satoru hops off his chair and looks over at your computer screen, resting his chin on the top of your head. "look, it's the skin i said i wanted! i wonder who sent it to me, huh..."
satoru shrugs and dips his head to kiss the side of your face. "coulda just asked me for it, y'know," he mutters, eyeing the username that had apparently sent you the gift.
you ignore him and gesture at the time on the top-right corner of your screen. "isn't your stream starting in a couple minutes?" you ask, tilting your head. satoru nods and pulls away, shaking his white hair out of his eyes before walking back over to his monitor. and just a minute or two later, he's live and chatting with his early viewers.
"hey, suguru," he says with a grin, waving at the screen when his close friend joins. "you wanna join my team for today? the match's gonna start in a couple minutes."
suguru-geto: yea sure one sec
satoru spins around in his chair a couple times, and he blows a kiss at you every time his chair faces your direction. and every time, you humor him and catch his kisses. eventually, he stops spinning around in circles and starts actually interacting with his viewers.
inumaki: i hate gojo's streams
inumaki: you just stare at your gf for half of them
inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.
"anyways. suguru, you ready yet?" satoru says with a grin. suguru replies with a thumbs-down in the chat, and satoru groans impatiently. "what are you even doing that's takin' you so long?"
suguru-geto: taking care of something
"whatever," satoru grumbles, slouching down in his chair and spinning around one more time. "hey, chat, y'wanna know a funny story? i could use your help on it too."
the comments explode with various forms of affirmation, and satoru turns his head and winks at you. "so, lately, some random account's been sending my girlfriend everythin' she could ever want. skins, coins, you name it. what does that mean?"
he ruffles his hair with one hand and drums his fingertips on his desk with the other, surveying the replies from underneath his long, white eyelashes.
sho-ko: some guy wants her sooo bad
yuuji-itadori: maybe the person's just being nice! :)
satoru makes a face at shoko's comments and scowls, sitting up and leaning closer to the screen. "i dunno if the guy who's sending my girlfriend gifts is here right now, but if you are, you better not think that you have a chance with her. 'cause you don't!"
you can't stifle the smile that spreads across your face at satoru's indignant words, and when he turns to you, you just can't help but laugh. he's so sweet, even and especially when he does his best to gatekeep you. but ever since he brought you onto his stream for the first time, you've been an instant fan-favorite, so he can only hide you for so long.
satoru scrunches up his face at you childishly, and you draw a heart in the air right back at him. it makes him smile ruefully, and his eyes light up when you blow a kiss at him. he turns back to his screen determinedly and raises an eyebrow at the latest comment.
sho-ko: do u have the guy's username? cus you can find out who it is that way
"oh, it's... hard to say. rio-zuku?" satoru tries, squinting his eyes. "i don't know, whatever. you guys know him?"
megumi-fushiguro: dyou mean ryosuku? i hate him
yuuji-itadori: oh i don't like him either :( hes mean
satoru scoffs and puts his feet up on his desk, rolling his cerulean eyes. "he can't be more famous than me, so whatever."
megumi-fushiguro: he gets 100k views per stream
"well, he can't be a better gamer than me," satoru replies dismissively, waving his hand.
kugi-saki: didn't he win the val championship last year?
"but i bet i'm hotter!"
toji-fushiguro: you wish
"fuck you, toji," satoru huffs indignantly. "well, how haven't i heard of this guy? if he's so famous and so hot, huh?" ignoring your snickers, satoru switches to another tab and types in the username. but when he clicks on the first link, nothing shows up. it's a blank profile, and satoru's jaw dropped.
"how the fuck am i blocked?!" he whines, flopping his head back on the headrest of his seat and pretending to faint. the chat floods with a thousand expressions of laughter, and you hop off your seat to go sit on the desk of satoru's desk, taking care to stay out of sight of his camera.
satoru opens one eye and squints it at you, lips forming a childish pout. he reaches out and twines his fingers with yours, completely ignoring his exploding comment section. you squeeze his hand gently and reach over his keyboard, hitting a key to mute his microphone.
"i can block him if you want," you offer, wrapping your other hand around satoru's. "and, for what it's worth, i think you're prettier than him."
satoru grins smugly at that, eyes softening more and more the longer they focus on you. "m'kay, thanks... wait, how do you know what he looks like?" he asks suspiciously, narrowing his eyes playfully.
"'cause i looked him up this morning."
your boyfriend sighs dramatically and pretends to faint again. when he reopens his eyes, there's a slightly new look in his eyes as he mumbles, "i wish people would stop hitting on you."
you reach out and touch his chin, forgetting that people on his stream could probably see your hand even if you two were on mute. "oh, i get that a lot," you tease, pinching his cheek affectionately. "but, honestly, you're the only one i wanna be with. even if that other guy buys me everything i could ever want, he's still not you."
satoru kisses the inside of your hand, eyes still fixed on you. "you do know that i'd buy you all of that and more if you asked, right?"
"i know. and i'd love you even if you were as broke as toji."
your side comment makes satoru throw his head back in laughter, and he shakes his head as a wide smile grows across his face. he pushes his chair closer to the desk and tilts his head up, minty taste fresh on his mouth as he smiles against your lips.
a bashful giggle slips past your lips as satoru kisses you again and again. from the corner of your eye, you can see that the two of you are just barely off-camera—in fact, anyone who's watching the stream can tell that the two of you are kissing, but you're still just out of sight.
"d'you want the new battle pass?" satoru mumbles against your lips, caressing the side of your face. you nod and grin, kissing the corner of his mouth.
"only you would talk about a battle pass while you're kissi—" satoru cuts you off with another kiss, stopping you from finishing your sentence.
"uh uh, shut up and let me kiss you. you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen n' i wanna enjoy you," satoru says plainly, gripping your chin in between his thumb and index finger. he tugs your lips on his again, and when he finally pulls away, he turns back to his screen and sticks out his tongue.
satoru unmutes himself and smiles smugly at the camera, face flushed pink from the way you had kissed him back. "well, at least that asshole doesn't have my pretty girlfriend, and he never fuckin' will."
yuuji-itadori: aw you two are so cute :)
megumi-fushiguro: i miss the single gojo
inumaki: im back whatd i miss???
inumaki: oh nvm im leaving again
#osaemu#streamer!gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo fluff#jjk fluff#satoru gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo drabbles#jjk drabbles
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
The creator had a:
sea streaked child
WC:800
Cw: reader is said to breastfeed but isn't written doing so
Checking the blinds to make sure they were clean, remaking the ruffles so they are even.
Furina had spent her entire morning jittery walking everywhere in the palais mermonia.
Now across the room she is digging in between the blue roses hiding any less than stellar bloom under one of its prettier sisters.
Changing the tea set on the table in the middle of the room, cerulean blue, cobalt blue and sky blue swapping places faster than Neuvillette can pay any mind to.
She sighs, looking defeated at the sets and almost begging them to tell her which one is supposed to be best yet for one second the teapots looked like mocking faces. Throwing herself on a loveseat the room starts to feel smaller and she isn't even totally sure what tea to serve.
“Breath” neuvillette says from the desk, ever since he took over the leading role in Fontaine he spent more time between pages of legal documents, if that is even possible “they are arriving for a simple chat to check on the general management of the region”
“How do you even expect me to be calm when they themselves asked for my attendance for this meeting!” she sits up wobbly, the soft swirling getting worse “I can't even remember what cake you told me they liked… this is going to be a mess”
“Their grace has quite the sweet tooth, as long as what you planned doesn't have coffee it's going to be alright”
“Why no coffee?”
“miss furina… they gave birth a few days ago, it’s disadvised to breastfeed and have caffeinated drinks” seeing her nod and her little ahoge bobbing along he feels the need to confirm “that not only includes coffee and variations but also most teas” and with that she jumps to her feet, quickly excusing herself to make some changes.
“That child…” he sighs as he reviews the documents he wanted to show you and a rough overview, his head resting against his hand and a finger between his teeth. Feeling the door whining softly he laughs from the bottom of his throat “back soon early?”
And as his heart skipped a beat as you spoke “Oh, my, I know I am 30 minutes early but I thought you would like to meet me particularly” you walk deeper inside the room, past the meticulously fixed flowers that you wouldn't have noticed the mistakes on and past the three teapots on the table, each a slightly different shade of blue. Now standing besides neuvillette and facing the documents he just noticed the bundle of white cloth you held onto.
“Did the crops get better with the method I recommended? It left me worried when I left”
“The production got better, if you want to check the report is here” he offers the three papers stuck together by a metal clip when he notices that doing it with a single hand might be hard “if I might help you” he positions his arms to grab the baby and you let her between his arms
“Let's hope she stays asleep, she is such a colicky baby” you whisper but as soon as you finish the sentence she opens her eyes and starts wailing “my goodness…” you sigh deeply.
“Let me take care of it, just focus on that” he stands up and tries to mimic what he saw parents do with their small children whenever something upsetting might come up during the trials and small children would cry.
He grabs her neck and head with one hand and her legs with another, cradling her like you. As he was swaying softly the blanket covering her hair slid down to show pointy ears and softly cartilage mixing on her thin white hair.
“Is she…” but is soon shushed by you, pointing at the door and then to your ears, the message very clear ‘someone might be listening’ but he keeps his eyes glued to you only to catch you mouthing a soundless yes. His hands cradle her head onto his neck, soft blue cartilage sneaking past his fingers.
Now soothed, you two find comfort on the soft sound of passing the pages and Cordelia's breathing, the baby's name he would later find out.
“NEUVI I managed to get a cheesecake and fontas did i save this?!” Furina pushes past the door, holding a full size strawberry cheesecake and hugging three fontas against her chest but seeing you head on thinking you weren't on Fontaine yet “HIYY”
The screech caused Cornelia to get startled and start wailing “Miss Furina.” neuvillette says sternly, almost like a father telling off his daughter. But the only thing it caused was for her to see him hugging a baby suspiciously similar to him which didn't take her long to join the dots.
“OOAH!”
“Furina please stop scaring my daughter!”
#genshin impact#gi#sagau#self aware genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#x reader#neuvillette x reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#neuvillete#genshin neuvillette#neuvillete x reader#meme made in WhatsApp my beloved
260 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi hi!! Thank you so much for doing this event!! TwT can I get sweet lollipops (abo friends with benefits to eventually lovers!!) with candy hearts (accidental knotting/pregnancy?) for our lovely alpha Floyd?
I hope I got that right! 💜
floyd leech x (gender neutral) reader
cw: nsfw, abo/omegaverse, knotting, friends with benefits, omega!reader, alpha!floyd, heats
note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order!
[lunar love hotel]
i. “this is just a one-time thing, okay?”
Celebrations at the Mostro Lounge are always extravagant events, luring in crowds so large the premises might resemble that of an overpacked sardine tin if it weren’t for Azul’s careful foresight. To avoid any unsavory issues, tonight’s celebration—a birthday party for a staff member—is strictly limited to Octavinelle residents and those working tonight’s shift, save for the exception that the birthday celebrant was permitted to invite friends from other dorms.
The lounge reflects this upbeat occasion, decorated in banners and streamers, confetti, and seashell-shaped light strands—all in pastel purples, blues, yellows, and pinks, colors resembling the shiny, waterlogged treasures found deep within the Coral Sea. There’s a buffet table that’s situated in the center of the room with snacks and desserts of all kinds, piled humorously high on silver platters that have not yet fallen over due to some special enchantment. Partygoers are scattered all throughout the lounge, some filling plates for themselves and others chatting around booths and in front of the massive aquarium, its aquatic illumination casting everything in cerulean hues.
You stand behind the bar drying and arranging crystal champagne flutes, a task so monotonous you’re lucky to listen in on nearby conversations to keep your brain perfectly sane. There are plenty of cloying smells that fill the lounge like helium inside a balloon, far more distracting than the scents of pastries and fruity, fizzy beverages. Your nose wrinkles at the distinctness of every alpha, omega, and beta in this room, some so robust you can practically taste them as they fog your brain with an unshakable haze.
Standing beside you, Azul works to mix and pour drinks, keeping up with each order in timely, flawless fashion. The clinking of glass and metal shakers brings you back to the present.
“You seem to be wearing quite the pensive look. A Madol for your thoughts?” Azul remarks without looking from the floor laid out before the both of you, his eyes scanning each and every partygoer, tallying them within his mind like they’re prey he’s preparing to net in one fell swoop.
You swallow a thick, awkward laugh, shaking your head to rid yourself of the cotton that’s been stuffed into your ears. Even the music spilling out of the speakers in loud, wild notes—courtesy of the birthday playlist assembled by the birthday boy and his friends—is muffled beyond comprehension, coming to you in a distant echo. You rub your shoe against the hardwood floor; it’s got a heartbeat, but that could just be because of the pounding music.
“(Name)?”
“Right. Thoughts. Madol. Yes,” you say with great haste, smacking your lips in a way that makes you look as if you’ve just tasted the air. And you are, technically, with every inhale and exhale. Amongst the many pheromones tinging the room, the ones that radiate from the alphas smell the most enticing. You blink through a sudden, all-consuming dizzy spell, head spinning. “I’m not thinking...about anything.”
Azul peers at you from his peripheral. “If you feel unwell, you’re welcome to take your break. I can handle things from here.”
“I’ll be fine...” You wipe sweat from your brow and tug at your collar. “Are you hot? It feels really hot in here.”
His brows knit together for a mere moment before a knowing glint flashes in his perceptive blues. It dawns on you, when he takes the glass from your trembling hands and sets it on the counter, that you are not as fine as you were a few moments ago. And both of you seem to have arrived at the same reason for why that might be.
“From one omega to another,” he murmurs, yet his voice sounds much clearer in this moment, “I suggest you take the rest of the night off before it catches up to you.”
You debate the suggestion, which is actually more of an order veiled within soft syllables, and you’re ready to insist you can power through it when your knees almost give out altogether when a particularly strong smell hits you. You slam your hands down upon the counter to keep your balance.
“This better not come out of my pay,” you mutter through grit teeth.
Azul barks out a laugh. “Why, I would never! We’re of the same sub-gender, after all. Naturally, we have to look out for one another.”
You try to roll your eyes, but it only makes you dizzier. You’ve done your best to ignore it so far, but now it’s impossible to not feel the slick that’s dampening your undergarments and rolling down your thighs in thick rivulets.
“Shall I send a beta to accompany you on your way back?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Azul looks like he wants to argue you on that, but instead he turns away to resume his current task. “Then I wish you a pleasant evening. Be safe.”
Pleasant, you think with bitter resentment. As if any of this is ever pleasant.
Luckily, the booming music and the absurd amount of scents within the lounge all but drowns yours out, allowing you to slip through the exit to follow the path that leads to Octavinelle's shadowed halls. The sprawling ocean looks much darker through the glass, as if it’s simply a liquid outer space or an endless abyss. Either one sounds equally terrifying. You stop your stagger-walk to lean against the cool surface, hoping to regain your sense of awareness. Shutting your eyes only makes you even more tipsy, so you press your forehead to the glass and exhale slowly.
It takes a moment for the world to stop tilting, but once it does you peel yourself away from the glass and continue to stumble onwards. In hindsight, you shouldn’t have decided to test fate when your calendar detailed your approaching heat, but that’s the least of your worries now. Not much can be done when it’s already upon you. Although you really wish it would have chosen to inconvenience you tomorrow when you weren’t set to work at the lounge.
The music is but a mere hum now, so distant it almost isn’t there, but you immediately forget about it when your shoe catches on something at the end of the hall, which sends you tumbling forwards. You land on frigid, unforgiving tiles with a harsh smack, and though the pain trickles through you it isn’t enough to distract you from the soothing scent of fresh rainfall. You blink through tears, forcing yourself to sit up, and find yourself staring into the face of Floyd Leech.
And he’s staring right back.
“F-Floyd? Didn’t you...” You inhale a deep breath, a poor move on your part because his smell encapsulates you entirely, and it almost knocks you over. “Kitchen shift... Azul put you on...food duty or...something.”
“Didn’t feel like it,” he mutters, looking bored and irritated all at once, as if your sudden arrival has disturbed his brooding in the dark. “Whatcha doin’ here? Thought you had a shift.”
You open your mouth to respond, but even that is too much for you; and so you slap your hands over your mouth, fixing him with a weak glare. Floyd’s never known just how strong his scent is, but you’ve always been able to differentiate it from the other staff members’ scents at the lounge because of how unmistakably Floyd it is. Unlike Jade, who dutifully wears scent blockers, Floyd could care less about the precautions most take to avoid any scent-related problems from cropping up. Sometimes you wish he was more like Jade, but then Jade never has any notable scent about him and that unnerves you more than the overwhelming nature of Floyd’s.
Floyd flashes his sharp teeth at you in a mocking grin. “Shrimpy looks so funny. Smells funny, too.”
You intend to put more vitriol into your glare, but his playful chuckle has you suppressing a needy, little whine. Your knuckles grow sore from how forcefully you’re clamping your hands over your mouth. If you don’t get back to Ramshackle soon, you’ll be a mess of sweat, pheromones, and slick and then that might draw unwanted attention. You attempt to stand, only to fail miserably when you sway on unsteady feet, and so you lower yourself onto your knees, glancing at Floyd’s colorful sneakers.
A breath shudders through you. The smell of rain and morning dew hangs heavy like cigarette smoke in the air. You can’t believe you’re about to verbalize your innermost desires, if they weren’t already blindingly apparent, but you can’t hold back any longer.
“Can you—” you swallow your inhibitions, far past the point of shame— “Can you help me?”
Floyd follows the length of his outstretched legs to look at you hunched over in front of him, your hands placed firmly on the floor to keep yourself from falling over.
His mismatched eyes hold mischief, but his face is neutral when he replies with: “Mmh... I guess. What do ya want help with?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you snap, and he tilts his head at you like you’re a bewildering curiosity. His acquiescence is all you really needed to hear, though, because you’re already shedding your uniform suit jacket in a breathless hurry. “Please don’t get smart right now. I just need—” You’re not sure what you need specifically, but you do know you need relief. And he’s the only alpha within reach. “I just need you to help.”
“Okaaay,” he drawls lazily, waiting there with his back against the glass. His figure is framed in the bright luminescence from the jellyfish swarming in the great depths beyond, and you crawl over his long legs and into his lap. He peers at you, amusement twinkling in his gaze. “Shrimpy’s so funny tonight!”
You admire him through the lenses unique to a heat. It’s more akin to a drunken stupor—the kind of phenomenon that makes strangers look ten times more appealing than they normally do if you’re sober—and every rugged, dangerous edge that composes Floyd suddenly seems so perfect and safe. Your fingers curl into the lapels of his jacket, and you yank him towards you, your lips mere centimeters from his. There’s no indication that he feels the same spark as you, but in this moment there doesn’t need to be any life-changing sparks. As long as he’s agreed to help you, you’ll take his assistance and nothing more.
“Floyd.”
“Shrimpy.”
“Can you...” You wiggle your hips, impatiently fumbling to shrug out of the straps of your high-waisted suspender trousers. You’re not very successful in this endeavor, so you give up with a frustrated huff. “Please touch me. D-Down there...”
“Sure thing,” he says with a nonchalance that’s frighteningly alarming.
You were certain that an omega in heat made it difficult for most alphas to focus, let alone properly function, when there were so many tempting smells and sounds coming from them. But then Floyd isn’t like most alphas. Floyd is uniquely Floyd in every possible way. He doesn’t conform to the typical standards applied to other alphas. But it does sting a little to think that, with how undoubtedly cloying your pheromones must be, he isn’t affected in the slightest. He’s not even hard, which feels like a chip in your omega pride, but you’re too frantic with lust to dwell on it.
Floyd's rough hands grab your waist and he lifts you up slightly, pressing you flush against his chest so that he can yank your trousers down for easier access. The fabric bunches halfway at your knees, but that hardly matters in the moment. You’re certain the wet spot would have been noticeable if it weren’t for the dim lighting in the hall, and you’re secretly grateful for the lack of brightness.
“T-This is just a one-time thing, okay?”
“Whatever you say.”
You’re not sure why he sounds so disinterested, but you don’t care enough to ask. And when he slides your soaked underwear to the side so that he can thrust two slender fingers up inside your dripping hole, you slump against him, gripping his shoulders like he’s the only one who can keep you afloat amidst the turbulent sea you’ve found yourself in. With your face buried in the crook of his neck, where his scent glands are so close and produce the headiest scent you’ve ever come to know, you cum with a strangled, gasping cry, slick clinging to your thighs in translucent, stringy ribbons. Floyd doesn’t say anything, continuing to curl his fingers inside tight, wet, gummy walls, which leaves you shuddering and sobbing with ecstasy.
You lick at his neck, pressing lingering kisses to every available inch, breathing in his scent as if it’s your oxygen. Your teeth prick the surface of his skin, but before you can bite down he’s grabbing your chin with his free hand and smashing his mouth against yours in a sloppy, aggressive kiss. Your teeth click against his, and his tongue flicks past your lips, searching for yours. You meet him halfway, kissing back as fervently as you roll your hips against his hand, taking a third and a fourth finger in one thrust. He’s worked you open with delightful movements, scissoring you as roughly as he kisses, and when you break away to gulp down mouthfuls of air Floyd licks his lips clean of saliva—your saliva.
You’re not sure if it was possible for you to get wetter, but you do and you reach your second—or perhaps it’s your third—climax with a squeal.
“You can put it in. Please put it in,” you mumble, mind fuzzy with one single thought: If you aren’t fucked sore and senseless right now, you might never recover from this heat. “Please, Flo... Floyd, put it in...” You palm at his crotch, satisfied that there’s now a stiffness straining against his trousers, and you reach up to slide his suit jacket off his broad shoulders. “I need it. I’ll cover your shifts for a week—no, two weeks—three weeks! Anything you want—just need you inside me...”
Floyd hums his consideration. “Don’t wanna,” he eventually says, cutting off your whiny protests with another expert curl of his fingers. “S’too much work.”
That seems to sober you a little, and though your entire body is flushed with warmth there’s an odd coldness that seeps through. You lose track of how many times you cum, but at some point you must have slipped into unconsciousness from the exhaustion of it all. When you wake, the sun’s just barely peeking over the horizon, and you’re lying in your work clothes in your room at Ramshackle Dorm. You feel and smell so filthy, covered in slick and sweat that has dried sticky on your skin, but the worst of your heat has abated for now. You know this isn’t the last of it—that there’s more to come in the next few days and that you’ll just feel so foggy-headed until the true instinctual lust hits and you’re leaking through your undergarments like a broken faucet.
Groggily, you sit up, rubbing the crust from your eyes, only to flop back down.
Bath can wait, you think, yawning. It’s way too early for that.
You feel something bunched underneath you, and for a moment you think it’s Floyd. Though you’re not sure why he immediately pops into your mind, you’re given your answer when you pull the suit jacket out from beneath you. It smells pleasantly of a rainy morning, musky and earthy, a pleasant petrichor that could only belong to Floyd.
ii. “you smell like shrimpy. ain’t that good enough?”
Floyd is an elusive force. He appears and disappears whenever he feels like it—almost like a playful poltergeist haunting a house. If he wants you to find him, you’ll find him. Today, it’s not Floyd you find when you venture through the courtyard in search of him, but rather Jade. You suppose he’s better than no one, and if you look at him from the wrong angle he becomes Floyd. So this is the best you can do in this moment. Perhaps it’s convenient you don’t have to face Floyd because you haven’t even rehearsed what you’ll say to him—if you even want to say anything to him about that night.
“I’d like to return Floyd’s jacket,” you tell him in your best professional tone, offering it to him alongside a packaged pastry.
Jade gazes at your outstretched hands. “The pastry as well?”
“Please don’t be a smart-ass.”
He hides his sharp smile behind a gloved fist. “Is there a reason you’re in possession of Floyd’s jacket?” As if to be even more irritating than he already is, he adds, “And Floyd’s pastry?”
You avoid his stare, distracting yourself with the sight of your scuffed shoes. “N-No reason in particular...”
But Jade is not the type to drop a subject he’s found interest in, which leaves him thoroughly invested in this not-so-mysterious mystery. “No reason at all?” he presses, brows raising. “If I recall, Floyd’s been left without a jacket for a week. This is merely speculation—take it with a grain of salt—but you must have been indisposed for a few days to deal with...‘personal matters,’ as Azul had called it, hence why we didn’t see you at the lounge. Is it correct to assume you may have been burdened with a certain biological inconvenience?”
“Not true! He lent it to me. Yeah, lent it to me. That’s all there is to it.”
“And the pastry?”
“Oh my—Jade, please just take your brother’s jacket. You’re killing me here.”
“On the contrary, I haven’t yet twisted the knife deep enough.”
You groan, deflating before him like a boneless fish. “You already know why I have his jacket. Don’t make this difficult.”
He chuckles; you don’t see what’s so hilarious about this situation. “Well, I was made aware of specific details, yes. What was it you had told Floyd? Ah, right. You would cover his shifts for three weeks if he—”
“Ahaa, Shrimpy, there you are!” Before you can listen to the rest of what was going to be a highly flustering sentence, Floyd crashes into you from behind, wrapping his arms around you, while you nearly topple over from the impact. Thankfully, he steadies you with strong arms. “I was lookin’ all over for you!”
“What a coincidence. So was I.” You squirm in his grasp, holding his jacket and the pastry up for his viewing pleasure. “For you.”
“So that’s where it was! Thanks, Shrimpy! Didja take good care of it for me?”
You stare at him. Did he seriously forget where his own jacket was?
“I don’t know what flavors you like, but I got this custard bread for you.”
“Huh? What for? It’s not my birthday.” The arm curled around your waist tightens its crushing grip, persuading you to admit your reasoning before he squeezes and your guts spill out through cracked bone. “It’s not even a holiday. What gives?”
“It’s for your help that night. A thank you from me to you.”
He snatches both from you, draping his jacket over his shoulder, and inspects the packaging. “Hey, this looks yummy. Thanks, Shrimpy!” He digs something out of his pocket, takes your hand, spreads your fingers, and drops it in your palm. “I also got a little somethin’ for ya.”
It’s a golden canine tooth, most likely one that came from a beastman. There’s still some blood and gum sticking to it.
“Um. Thanks?” You choke down the urge to shiver.
Floyd giggles, looking quite satisfied with himself.
Jade stares at it, unsurprised. “May I ask where you acquired this tooth?”
Floyd shrugs, releasing you from his smothering hug. “Asked some guy where Shrimpy was and he kept dodgin’ the question. Had to pull the answer right from his mouth.”
“I see.”
You stuff the tooth into your pocket, wiping your palm against the fabric of your blazer, and grin awkwardly. “I appreciate the...gift.”
You’ve never traded a pastry for a tooth before. But, hey, there are firsts for everything, right?
“You like it?! I can get more for Shrimpy! Which ones do you like best? Gold? Silver?”
“No, that’s okay. One is enough.”
One is too much, actually...
Floyd hums his contentment, the scent of rain rolling off of him in happy waves. You inhale as subtly as you can. He smells good—perhaps much better now that you’ve toed the line of intimacy with him—however emotionless it may have been—and have had an entire week to familiarize yourself with his scent. It settles your frazzled nerves, allowing you a small fraction of confidence...that immediately shrivels when you recall how he’d called your scent funny.
“Do I...” You shrug your anxieties off, forcing the question out from the confines of your dry throat. “Do I smell bad?”
Floyd looks through you rather than at you. “Never said that.”
“You didn’t say I smelled good either.” You cross your arms over your chest. “For the record, I think you smell good.”
That prompts a tiny laugh from Jade. “As riveting as your human courting techniques are, I’m afraid I must be on my way. I wish you a pleasant afternoon, (Name). Floyd, I’ll see you at dinner.”
“‘Kaaay.”
You’ve never been more glad to see him and his troublesome smirk go, and you curse him six ways from Sunday with each step he takes, until it’s just you and Floyd standing in the center of the sparsely populated courtyard.
Floyd unwraps the pastry without much decorum, taking an obnoxious chomp from it while he waits for you. Crumbs stick to his face and gather on his uniform like sugar snowfall.
“So I do smell bad.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Shrimpy,” he says around a mouthful of pastry. “You smell like Shrimpy. Ain’t that good enough?”
What in the world does ‘shrimpy’ even smell like?
You tilt your head back and forth, unsure of what to truly say. “I... Floyd, your scent really helped me. Like, a lot. And I know you probably don’t think it did, but your jacket made things way more tolerable than they usually are.”
He’s licking his fingers clean now, nodding along to what you’re saying with bright, eager eyes.
You steel yourself with it’s now or never. “My budget has been low lately, so I haven’t been able to afford suppressants for the next few months. And between attending classes, working at the lounge, and keeping Ramshackle in good shape, I can’t lose a week’s time because of my heats. So... So what I’m trying to say—what I’m trying to get at here... I guess what I really want—can we make this not a one-time thing, but a monthly thing instead? If you helped me, you could cut my heats down to just two or three days. I can buy you more pastries if you want, or I can cover your shifts. Please just help me out again. I’ll do anything.”
It feels useless and pathetic to beg, especially since you know how mercurial he can be, so sometimes it’s as though you’re speaking to an immovable wall. In fact, you might have better luck going to Azul or Jade if you really wanted—
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.” He grins. “Why not? Sounds fun.”
“So it doesn’t sound like ‘too much work’?”
“Nah. Shrimpy’s fun.” He crumples the empty packaging and stuffs it in his pocket. “And fun things aren’t work.”
“All right... If you say so.”
You aren’t going to push it any further, lest you risk annoying him and losing this chance.
iii. “most importantly, we’re just friends and nothing more.”
It’s raining today. Normally, watching gloomy weather unfold fosters unrest within you. But this time Floyd’s with you, lying sprawled in a cramped alcove in the library, all lanky limbs outstretched, while you flip through a textbook in search of anything that might give you more insight into how to cure heats or, at the very least, halt them in a way that doesn’t require expensive medicines. Floyd’s scrolling on his phone, a lollipop between his lips. He’d caught your scent on the wind and had gravitated towards it, and you’d smelled him the minute he stepped into the hallway to follow you into the library. You let him accompany you because there’s no shaking Floyd once he’s made up his mind.
With the lack of sunlight, the lighting in the library is dimmer than usual. It’s peacefully comfortable despite the rain-spattered windowpanes and the cloudy sky beyond ancient, dusty confines. You peer at Floyd from where you sit. He’s looking through an online shoe catalogue.
“Do you like shoes?”
“They’re cool,” he replies without missing a beat. “And the surface’s got lotsa cool designs and styles.”
Briefly, you glance at your worn pair in hopes that looking long enough will give you an idea for what to say next. It doesn’t work as intended, but Floyd doesn’t seem keen to continue chatting with you, his attention focused squarely on his phone screen. You return to the task at hand, skimming a few chapters on alpha and omega biology, information on betas, and even an in-depth analysis on heat and rut nuances. Nothing tells you of the panacea needed to rid yourself of your heats.
Defeated, you shut the textbook with a sigh. Floyd’s looking at you now, his phone swiftly pocketed. You slump in your seat. He smiles lopsidedly when he knows you’re watching him.
“All good?”
You nod, but your words contradict that. “I can’t find a cure for heats and it’s a little frustrating.”
“Why do you wanna cure ‘em? You got me for that, don’tcha?”
“Yeah. But… Actually, since you’re here, can we go over a few rules? My next heat isn’t scheduled until next month, but I’d like to set some boundaries before we do anything.”
Floyd pulls the lollipop stick from his mouth and twists it into a knot. “Lay ‘em on me.”
You nod, push the textbook away from you, and scoot your chair closer to the alcove. “You can’t bite.” You point at your neck. “Anywhere else is fine, but here is off limits.”
Floyd mirrors your actions, tapping the area where his glands reside with a hum. “I won’t bite.” His smile says otherwise, but you take him for his word.
“And no knotting.”
“No knotting.”
“No breeding either.”
“No breeding.”
“And… And no kissing.”
“No kissing. Gotcha.”
“You’re being surprisingly agreeable about this.”
Floyd shrugs. “It’s what Shrimpy wants.”
“Right. Okay. Well.” You wring your hands together. “Most importantly, we’re just friends and nothing more.”
“Just friends,” he parrots. “Nothing more.”
“Cool.” You nod to yourself, but it does nothing to dispel the awkwardness. “Awesome. Cool...”
Floyd pops up from the alcove seat like a reanimated corpse springing from a grave. He grabs your hand and tugs you up from your chair, all boisterous energy and laughter despite the vicious shushes you receive from nearby students.
“Let’s go swimming!”
You have no idea where this came from, but you allow yourself to be tugged from the library, abandoning the pile of textbooks you’d been perusing for nearly an hour. And though your spirits had been dampened considerably by the information, or rather lack thereof, you seem to forget about it while you watch Floyd splash freely around in the Octavinelle pool, swimming laps with such smooth precision. You dip your bare feet in the chilled water, entertaining him with a game of fetch, tossing a diving ring each time he brings it back to you.
And within no time your frown has lifted into a genuine smile.
Later, during your shift, Jade brushes past you. “Floyd has been in such a pleasant mood today,” he remarks, nodding towards his brother, who’s currently balancing trays as he happily skips from table to table, a whistle in his voice. “I wonder if something exciting has happened. Do share. I so dislike being left out of the loop.”
Knowing Jade and his affinity for omniscience, you suspect he’s already within the loop. And it’s not as if you could lie to him; he’d find out eventually when Floyd starts smelling more like you and you start smelling more like Floyd. So it’s best to be honest about it, even if it is a little uncomfortable admitting such a thing to Jade.
“Floyd’s going to help me with my heats.”
“Is that so? How kind of him. You have my most sincerest blessings.” Jade holds a hand over his heart. “Take good care of Floyd now. He can be rather sensitive, though he doesn’t seem it.”
“We’re not getting married, Jade.”
He smiles innocently. Your gazes are drawn to Floyd as he approaches with empty trays. He catches your eye and grins broadly, waving in a manner so ecstatic you’d think he’s just meeting you again for the first time in years.
“I wouldn’t be so certain about a hypothetical that has yet to be proven.”
“Then, hypothetically, I marry into the Leech family. What then?”
“I believe that would make us in-laws, no?”
“Right. And, hypothetically, my dear in-law goes missing and is never found again because he can’t keep his annoying mouth shut. What then?”
“You would have quite the crime on your hands. I don’t think the sea would show you much mercy.”
Floyd’s hands clap down upon your shoulders at that moment. “Whatcha talkin’ about?”
Jade’s grin sharpens into something predatory when he looks at Floyd, who’s resting his chin on top of your head. “We were merely discussing how we might dispose of the other should (Name) marry into the family.”
“Ooh! Shrimpy’s marryin’ Jade, huh?”
You and Jade answer in unison, though your responses are very contrasting.
“That can be arranged.”
“Absolutely not!”
Floyd pinches your cheek, cooing playfully. “I wouldn’t mind it. That means I’d get to see Shrimpy all the time.”
“Although, as honored as I am to consider a future with (Name), I believe Floyd would be a much better fit for you.”
“Huh? Why me?” Floyd looks at you more closely, inspecting you with narrowed eyes, and then he barks out a high laugh. “No way, Jade. You hafta like someone if you wanna marry ‘em.”
You twist out of Floyd’s arms. “And we all have to work if we don’t want Azul on our cases!” With a huff, you snatch the trays from under Floyd’s arm and stomp off towards the kitchen, listening to the twins’ laughter as you go.
iv. “shrimpy’s rule: no knotting.”
In the days leading up to your heat, Floyd is a leech, not just in surname but in the literal sense. He’s almost always hanging around you. From working the same hours at the lounge to accompanying you to and from classes to meeting you at Ramshackle first thing in the morning, he is your shadow. It almost feels like he’s attached to you by some invisible thread and can only go so far before he’s drawn back in by way of magnetic force. You thought it was weird, but then Floyd has always been weird and so this sort of behavior isn’t uncharacteristic. Rather, it makes perfect sense for him to stick to you like a barnacle. Why, you might ask? The simple answer is that he’s found entertainment in you and isn’t going to give up until he grows bored.
But the complex answer comes to you days before your scheduled heat, when Ace had none-too-subtly pointed out that you smell. He didn’t say you smelled funny, which had been a little soothing, but even Deuce had echoed his sentiment. You didn’t smell like yourself, they had told you. So you asked what you smelled like and without missing a beat they replied: “Like rain.”
You had laughed and then paused to consider what felt like an absurdity and then laughed again. Floyd isn’t your alpha and you’re not his omega. There shouldn’t be any reason for him to scent you. You shrug off Ace’s teasing and Deuce’s genuine curiosity in favor of focusing on your lunch. Lunch, you’ve decided, is much tastier than whatever confusion you were previously feasting on.
Unlike last month’s heat, you’re ready for this one. You wake and attend classes as you normally would, only feeling the faintest itch of what’s to come, but by your final class you’re woozy, struggling to stay centered while the lecture goes in one ear and out the other in a string of mushed syllables. You’re not completely gone when you shuffle out of class, ignoring the whispers that are thrown around, and you only truly perk up when a familiar smell hits you head-on.
Floyd leans against the wall, a casual smile pulling his lips apart. “My dorm or yours?”
“Yours,” you blurt, only to shake your head hastily. “No... No, not yours. Mine is better.”
He giggles and tilts his head at you. “Okaaay!”
Floyd hardly has any time to shut the door and drop your belongings on the sofa before you’re grabbing at him, clinging like a koala, and he gathers you in his arms and covers the distance to your bedroom. You’re quickly losing yourself to instinctual lust, shedding your articles of clothing as easily as you whimper his name. Floyd’s grinning as he follows your example, his eyes tracking your every movement. You flop onto your bed after you’ve discarded your rumpled uniform, skin hot and sticky with sweat and slick. Floyd’s pheromones fill the room at once, and you reach for him when he crawls on top of you, caging you between sturdy, muscled arms.
“Shrimpy smells funny again.”
“Knock it off, will you?” you spit, but the irritation doesn’t last long when you get another whiff of him and you throw your head back with an impatient sigh. “I don’t smell funny... Ace and Deuce didn’t think I smelled funny.”
“Yeah?” he prompts, palming your drenched hole, sliding two fingers past rings of wet muscle.
You shift underneath him, hissing out a breathy moan through grit teeth. “They said...” Another gasp. “They said I smelled like—” Your hands grip the sheets when he adds a third finger, lazily working you open with dexterous digits. “Like ra—aah—rain.”
“Musta been rainin’ that day.”
“N-No, you were... Your smell. You smell like—mmh. Like the rain.”
You don’t miss his tongue as it darts out to wet his lips. The lewd squelching of his fingers pumping in and out of you permeates the air, replacing any words he might have wanted to say. You shut your eyes with a blissful hum. Perhaps if you weren’t already so deep in your heat you might be able to sift through your thoughts with more coherence. But then, if you weren’t so deep in your heat, you wouldn’t be in this position in the first place, and so you probably wouldn’t get this far with your curiosity.
“Were you... Hah... Were you scenting me? I couldn’t tell because...”
Because your scent’s already so familiar.
Floyd doesn’t answer, but he does withdraw his hand and you whine low in your throat. Your displeasure is short-lived, though, for rough hands spread your thighs next, and before you know it he’s between your legs, licking a stripe up your slick-coated entrance. By instinct, you attempt to shut your legs, wanting to lock him there forever, but his hands keep you spread wide for him, and so you rest your ankles upon his shoulders while he continues to lick and nip, his razored teeth just barely scraping skin.
Suddenly, pressing him for answers doesn’t seem like your main priority when a long, thick tongue pushes its way into you at the next moment. He hums his enjoyment, and the vibrations ripple through you like waves in a pond. It’s much better than anything you could have accomplished with just your fingers alone, and you can’t stop the noisy mewls that fall freely from your lips, breathy and pitched in a way that foretells approaching orgasm. With the way his fingertips burrow into the pudge of your thighs to the way his tongue sloppily works in and out of you, the warmth in your stomach builds to an insurmountable level, and it isn’t long until you’re tipping over the edge. You dig your fingers into teal locks, pressing him firmly against your crotch, and cum with a strangled shout.
Floyd withdraws, his face glistening with your slick, and you shudder at both the sight of him and the faint ache of emptiness. He swipes a stray droplet from his cheek and samples it with a slow lick. You almost cum again, heat kindling within you once more.
“Ahaaa,” he exhales giddily, pupils blown so wide they eclipse his irises. “Shrimpy’s like a fountain today!”
You lessen your grip on his hair, chest heaving as you come down from your high, and tug him back onto the bed, hurrying to swap the positions before he can grab hold of you. You fumble with his still-hardening dick, coating your fingers with your slick and attempting to pump it with awkward, inexperienced strokes. Floyd supports himself on his elbows, eyeing you as you lean down to take the head of his cock in your mouth.
He hisses out a laugh. “Shrimpy’s not very good at this, huh?”
You want to snap at him, but all you can manage is a disgruntled scoff. You’ve entertained scenes like this in your dreams, in which you were skilled in all areas of sex, but now that you’re actually leaning over him, giving it your best effort to fit half of him in your mouth, you realize your dreams painted an ideal version of you that is not applicable to the real-world you. And that dents your pride a little. At least you can blame your sloppiness on your heat, which has you rushing through the motions in your impatience. Miraculously, your mouth manages to work some magic because his cock stiffens completely, curving up at an angle that you’re certain will hit the deepest spots within you.
You pull off of him with a wet pop and he giggles, reaching to pinch your cheek. Swatting at his hand, you crawl over him, straddling him, and brace your hands upon his chest. Floyd watches you, his arms folded behind his head, as he lies back and allows you to do the work. Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, holding it steady while you align the soft, fleshy head with your hole. For a tense minute, you stare at the way the tip’s kissing your slit, oozing pre-cum. Had you been less omega-brained, you might have fretted over whether something so big would even fit, but right now all you need is to be completely filled to the brim.
Floyd unfolds his arms and rests his hands on your hips, seeming both amused and endeared to witness the emotions that shift on your face. Your eyes flick to his mismatched ones.
“Please...” You shiver, your hands closing around his larger ones. “Please, Floyd...”
You think that might have tempted him, for you’re hit with a stronger wave of his pheromones, but the thought is knocked out of your head when he lowers you onto his cock in a way that is uncharacteristically gentle. Your nails dig into his hands as slick, gummy walls swallow inch after thick inch. He’s concentrating on the way you stretch around him, groaning through clenched teeth, and he’s not even halfway in when you cum with a desperate wail. Floyd smirks up at you and, with his nails poking your hips, slams you down in one swift motion, spearing you entirely on his cock. You cry out your relief in delighted gasps.
“I-It’s inside...” you mumble, awestruck, as you press a hand to your stomach in an attempt to feel him. “It really—haah... Really fit...”
“‘Course it did,” he says pridefully. “I knew Shrimpy could do it.”
“Shrimpy only did it because of how wet—ah!” You nearly collapse when he thrusts up suddenly, the tip of his cock hitting a sensitive spot that sends pleasurable shockwaves rattling through you. You fix him with a weak scowl, but he isn’t looking at you. He’s looking at your hand intertwined with his while the other remains on your waist, keeping you steady. You loosen your grip for a moment before curling your fingers with a confidence only fostered by your heat. “C-Can I hold it?”
“S’not goin’ anywhere.”
You stick your tongue out at him and he laughs; and soon you’re starting to smile.
Swallowing your own heat-drunk giggles, you lift your hips slowly and ease back down onto him, shuddering at the way he fills you so completely. You do this a few more times while Floyd gleefully observes, and it isn’t long before you’re settling into a satisfying pace. He guides you up and down, watching you come undone with each steady roll of your hips. You’re a mess above him, fucking yourself silly while he meets you halfway with an occasional rough thrust, and you hold his hand so tightly you think you might tear it from his wrist. Floyd’s groans and grunts are music to your ears, spurring you onwards in your endeavors. You’re certain it’s just a byproduct of the heat, but he looks so enchanting beneath you, squeezing your hip and then reaching up to twist one of your perky nipples between his fingertips.
“Feels good?”
“So good,” you pant, breaths hot and wet. You’re overcome with the urge to pull him up and into your arms so that you can be even closer, but you’re too focused on feeling him deeper and so you never act on the temptation. “R-Really—mmph! Really good!”
He traces patterns into your stomach, giggling breathlessly. “I can tell. Shrimpy’s squeezin’ me soooo much.”
Neither of you seem to realize the base of his cock has swelled a considerable amount, but it’s brought to your attention the next time you slam your hips down and you’re stopped by his knot. You peer at it with lidded, glassy eyes and your omega instincts flare wildly, all messy bundles of nerves fraying at the idea that that could be inside you—that it should be inside you—locking you and Floyd together. You raise your hips, inches sliding out of you gradually, and you prepare yourself to take him—knot and all—when Floyd’s hand breaks from out of your hold to grab your waist, stopping your swift descent.
“Nuh-uh,” he chides, and you growl at him, almost animalistic with anger. “Shrimpy’s rule: No knotting.”
“This is—aah... Mmh... This is different. A t-trial run. This time...doesn’t count.”
“Hee hee. Shrimpy’s gonna regret it later.”
You squirm in his hold, begging him to keep moving through whimpers and whines, and he complies with a playful whistle.
“Please. Just once. Just once and then—”
“Mm, nope,” he says, popping the ‘P.’
“Floooyd...”
“Shrimpyyy.”
You sigh a sad, little sound that has Floyd’s eyes softening. His knuckle pets your cheek, oddly fond.
“S’just the heat talking,” he reminds you, and you lean into his warm, welcoming hand. “See? Shrimpy’s just followin’ instincts.”
He slides you off of him and your hole clenches uselessly around nothing. Within seconds, he’s flipped you so that you’re lying on your back and he’s above you. His teeth flash at you, sharp and bright, wild and untamed. You sandwich his face between your palms, adoring the way nasally laughter ripples through him. You’re glad he isn’t a mirror because if he was he might reflect an expression you don’t wish to confront at this very moment.
Floyd’s positioned himself and in one speedy thrust that nearly knocks the air from your lungs he slots himself inside, only this time you feel the overwhelming stretch of his knot as it fills you entirely, and you howl with ecstasy, linking your arms around his neck to bring him closer to your throat. Floyd moans lowly, resting his arm above your head and biting into the muscle so hard thin ribbons of blood streak from the punctures. Your chest is heaving, heart pounding out an erratic, heat-driven rhythm, and you cum around his thick knot with a strangled sob, tears running down your cheeks.
Within just a few more tight thrusts, Floyd’s emptied his creamy load inside, and you don’t have the sobriety to consider the weight of broken rules—rules that you had specifically put in place. You listen to his soft pants as he pulls away from his arm, saliva and blood stringing from his lips, and he licks it away with a swipe of his tongue. When he attempts to slide out, your face twists in discomfort.
“Hurts...”
“Aw. I’m sorry, Shrimpy,” he coos, adjusting your position so that he’s lying on his back and you’re resting on top of his chest, his knot still buried within you. His hand rests upon the small of your back, and he gives you a pleased, toothy grin. “Feel better now?”
“A little. Thank you,” you whisper, laying your head over his heart while the extremities of your heat ebb away, satisfied now that you’ve been properly filled and knotted by an alpha. His heart beats a steady thrum: buh-bum, buh-bum, buh-bum. The sweet scent of rain encases the both of you, easing you into a sleepy spell. You peer at the bite mark on his forearm and frown. “You bit yourself?”
“Didn’t wanna bite your neck.”
“Oh.” Your eyes flick to his, but he’s avoiding your stare, his cheeks tinged the faintest pink while he gazes at the ceiling. It’s a rare sight to see the Floyd Leech flustered and withdrawn; you wonder what’s the cause of this sudden shift in character. “You could’ve bitten anywhere else. I...wouldn’t have minded.”
“Didn’t wanna hurt you.”
“Oh.”
He’s looking at you now, the color on his cheeks fading, and a bashful smile plays at his lips. “Didn’t mean to break your rule.”
You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, petting him gently. “It’s fine. We’ll figure it out once we’re unstuck.”
His chest rumbles with laughter. “Whatcha wanna talk about ‘til then?”
“Um... Well, what’s a good stuck-together conversation topic?”
Floyd hums thoughtfully. “You like shiny stuff?”
You blink at him. “Yeah. Why?”
“Just askin,’” he says, but his eyes flash with mischief. He leans in until his nose is touching yours. “Cuz I like shiny stuff, and Shrimpy’s glowin’ right now.”
Your face warms considerably and you push him away with an embarrassed groan. His giggles are muffled in your palm. “Not when we’re stuck together...”
v. “rather, ‘honey rain’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
You’re in the process of discussing spring weather with Azul when Floyd rushes up to you, takes your hand, gently spreads your fingers open as if they’re petals, and drops something onto your palm. You expect another tooth or a stone or a crumpled flower—all items he’s been gifting you at random over the course of a few months; what you don’t expect is an eel keychain. Perhaps you should have, though. You’ve learned to expect the unexpected with Floyd.
“What’s this?”
“For you!”
“An eel...for me?”
He nods and holds up a shrimp keychain. Your face warms when the implication becomes clear.
“It’s cute. Thanks. I’ll keep it safe.”
Floyd beams at you and presses his lips to your cheek in a fleeting smooch. Just as quick as he had come, he’s retreating, skipping off in delight, his laughter echoing down the halls while he ignores your flustered shout. You know he wants you to pursue him, but you’re too embarrassed to give chase. Instead, you scrub at your cheek with a huff. He’s always kissing your cheeks and sometimes even your lips. You enjoy it too much to remind him of all the rules the both of you have since broken. They mean nothing now.
“You certainly smell pleased,” Azul remarks with a sly smirk.
“It’s better than smelling funny.”
“Floyd still hasn’t told you what you smell like?”
“No! And it’s really annoying!” You peer at the tiny plush eel in your hands, its beady eyes and stitched smile taunting you. “It’s always ‘Shrimpy smells funny’ and never ‘Shrimpy smells like something that isn’t funny.’”
“I can assure you your scent is not at all humorous. It’s actually quite pleasant.”
“Are you just saying that to be nice, or are you saying that to be nice?”
Azul shakes his head in amusement. “Can’t I compliment a fellow omega and, most importantly, a friend?”
“Can’t you admit the truth?”
“Details, details.” He waves the dig away dismissively. “It’s no wonder Floyd fancies you so. He adores sweet things.”
“Oh, do I smell sweet then? Like candy? Or maybe like a pastry?”
“You smell like floral honey.”
“Huh. That’s...definitely not a funny scent.”
“Not at all. Rather, ‘honey rain’ has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
You wonder if you should object. You wonder if you should try to claim that you and Floyd are still friends despite the evolution of your arrangement. Neither of you have admitted it, but it’s obvious you’ve stepped over the boundary of ‘just friends’ and have entered new territory—territory that’s so very akin to lovers.
But you only smile covertly. “Yeah, it does,” you mumble, tracing your finger over the eel’s tilted head. “It really does.”
#tw: abo#tw: omegaverse#tw: knotting#n/sfw#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#floyd leech x reader#floyd x reader#lunar love hotel 2023#fluffy floyd hours#since the type of writing wasn't specified i decided to write a oneshot :D
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Morning After
John Price x Reader
A/N: This is legit only my second fic ever. I don't have anyone to proofread, sorry for any mistakes.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Warnings: smut but not detailed, drinking, a teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff
When you woke up, you didn’t open your eyes. The sheets against your skin felt odd. Your mouth was sour, letting you know you had fallen asleep without brushing your teeth. Taking a deep breath in you stretched your limbs in the bed. You let out a satisfied groan before you realized you were completely naked. That made you stop mid-stretch and open your eyes. The room was dimly light by a floor lamp next to a chair in the corner. You didn’t recognize the lamp or the chair. As you sat up and took stock of the room you found yourself in the events of last night flood your brain. You had gone out to dinner with a friend for their birthday, but you ended up at a bar playing pool. The group had gotten nostalgic over your days as young adults with less responsibilities and better tolerance for alcohol. Which is how you ended up at the bar in the first place. You personally had only planned on staying out for a little while, but your friend had pulled the birthday card on you knowing you didn’t have any real plans the next day. While playing pool your group began chatting up the guys at the table next to yours and learned it was a group of military guys. There had been a guy who was so pretty you had initially thought he was a model. He had been introduced as Gaz. There had been a guy with a mohawk and Scottish accent who went by Soap and a man wearing a black face mask and a beanie who seemed impossibly large that Soap called Ghost. Ghost had been quiet the entire night only communicating in one word answers and grunts. Then there was John. When you had spotted him a zing had run up your spine. He had fixed his steady cerulean eyes on you when your friend had introduced you to his group. John had made a point to shake your hand during the introduction process which had caused heat to rush up your neck into you hairline. You remember hearing your friend snicker next to you while you stuttered out a greeting. The way John’s eyes crinkled around his eyes made your heart skip. You had vaguely thought the he was the only person you’d ever seen that had muttons chops that you found insanely attractive. During the course of the night you had chatted with him while you all played pool and drank. John had been surprisingly easy to talk to and you had soon found yourself chatting and exchanging flirty remarks with the man. You had planned on working up the courage to exchange numbers with him before you left. However, as you friends settled their tabs and ordered Ubers, John had asked you if you’d like to come back to his place. You’d had just enough to drink to be tipsy and agree before too much thought. You sent your friend a quick text and also starting sharing you location, because safety. Once you’d gotten to John’s house he’d pushed you against the inside of the front door and made you cum on his tongue twice before he carried you to his bedroom.
Just thinking about how things had gone down (pun intended) made your skin flush. You must have passed out at some point in the night. The man in question was not currently in the room. You get out of the bed and search for your clothes. Everything was folded neatly on the chair next to your lamp. Thankfully your phone was still in your pants pocket with 20% battery life and about ten messages from your friends asking how you tonight had gone. You dressed quickly and made your way out of the bedroom. Once you were out of the room you could smell coffee and hear movement in the kitchen. You walked down the hallway and found yourself standing in the living room. “You’re awake.” A voice called from your left. You turned to see John standing in his kitchen shirtless smiling at you softly. “Yeah, I figured I’d worn out my welcome.” You rushed, feeling only slightly embarrassed at being caught. “Oh sweetheart, you haven’t worn anything out. I think I might have worn you out last night though.” John remarked with a gleam in his eyes. Heat flushed your cheeks and ears as you opened and closed your mouth, at a loss for words. A dark chuckle rumbled through John’s chest as he made his way to where you stood. “Don’t be shy now love.” John caressed your cheek gently as he peered down into your eyes. The urge to close your eyes and lean into his hand was so strong, but you just stood and stared at him. Your heart thudded in your chest quickly. “Come on, I made us breakfast.” He dropped his hand from your face and turned back to the kitchen.
You waffled between trying to make a break for the door and sitting down at the kitchen table. You watched John start to make two plates, before you finally walked into the kitchen with a small huff of resignation. You really liked John a lot. He seemed like a good guy, but he was career military and you were under the impression he wasn’t exactly looking for more than a fling. While you didn’t regret having sex with him, because truthfully it had been the best sex you’d ever had, you didn’t really want a situationship.
John pulled a cup out of a cabinet and turned to you. “How do you take your coffee?” He asked turning to the refrigerator. “John, this really isn’t necessary.” He turned back to you with a frown tugging at his eyebrows. “Do you prefer tea? Let me put the kettle on.” He said turning back away from you. “No. John. I mean all of this. You don’t have to feed me. I’d rather not draw this goodbye out longer than needed.” You blurted out. John took a step towards you. “What are you going on about?” He questioned with an unreadable expression. You took an uneasy step back. “T-this,” you stammered. “Who does this for a one night stand?” The edge of the table pressed into the back of your thighs. You realized then you’d been backing away from John and was now stuck between him and the kitchen table. “One night stand? Is that what you think this is?” John crossed his arms over his chest.Your eyes flickered down to take in the way his arms bulged across his hairy chest. When you meet his eyes they had a knowing gleam to them. “I mean I’d like to see you again, but I figured that with your job you wouldn’t want to.” You sputtered feeling like you were being scolded somehow. John grabbed your hand gently and brought it to his lips before softly kissing each of your knuckles. “I might have gone about things out of order, but I very much want take you out on a proper date and get to know you better. I know me being in the military isn’t ideal, but I want to try if you’re willing.” He declared staring into your eyes. His words surprised you and you couldn’t help the goofy grin that formed on your lips. “I’d like that very much actually.” You breathed out. “Good.” John mumbling staring at your lips as he leaned into your space. Your eyes fluttered shut when his lips pressed against yours delicately. John’s tongue ran along the seam of your lips. You pulled back. “John, I have really bad morning breath.” You tried to deter him. “I don’t care.” He growled before capturing your lips again. A whimper escaped your throat and John took the opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. Your hands come up to his chest to ground yourself. The steady thump of his heart pulses where your hands rest. His hands rested on your hips as he pressed against you. You could feel his length harden when he wedged himself against you. You pull back to catch your breath. John took the opportunity to trail kisses along you jawline and neck. Before things could get more heated, your stomach takes the opportunity to voice its discomfort. John pulls back and lets out a bark of a laugh. “I suppose I should feed you first.” He says pulling a chair out for you to sit down in. “Now then sweetheart, how do you take your coffee?”
#john price#captain john price#captain price#john price x reader#john price x you#captain john price x reader#price x reader#captain price x reader#cod mw2
300 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
wwankin
SEOlover01
hammad4oud-blog
Hammad4OUD
childnuggetti
Roadhog's biggest lover
tangledinink
actually i just like turtles now