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#fortune presents gifts
ooksaidthelibrarian · 8 months
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“And he is genuinely only slightly used?” Carrick’ directed his comment at Madame Aldith but he stepped forward quickly, long strides bringing him right up into Rhys’ space. Carrick buys himself a...companion
Fortune Presents Gifts Chapter 17: Offer of a Lifetime
Fandom: Witcher/Shadowrun Rating: E (for smut) OC-centric Words: 9364
Read it on AO3
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oblonger · 13 days
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@sincerely-sofie
Ark watches the sun set.
Ark silently sat next to Twig, holding her hand as she lay under her blanket, the worn out shawl she's owned for decades barely peeking out from underneath. The room was gently illuminated by the small, yellow-orange flame on the end of her tail. The two of them alone, per her requests.
After a long period of agonizing silence, Twig opened her eyes and shifted her head to look at Ark.
"Hey Ark?"
Ark turned to face her, it felt like his heart would rip itself apart whenever he looked at her.
"What is it Twig?" He asked, doing his best to suppress the shaking of his voice.
"Can I ask you for something?"
Ark felt like he already knew what she would ask. "I will not abandon you." He responded, sounding more desperate and grief ridden, than determined like he'd hoped.
Twig gave a small, weak chuckle. "No, I'm not gonna ask you to leave."
Ark felt deep regret at his reaction. "My apologies. What's your request?"
Twig slowly blinked at him, a smile spreading across her face. "It's fine, man. I know I promised, but I wanted to ask if you could put me to sleep. And we could watch the sunrise again."
Ark could feel his other hand shaking. "You will see the sunrise while you still yet live, Twig." Once more sounding more desperate than determined.
Twig very slightly tilted her head. Her smile radiating a warmth that he cherished so much. "Ark..."
He could feel his emotions being torn apart. "I dont... I dont want you to have a nightmare."
Twig weakly chuckled again. "I'm not gonna let some nightmare do me in, Ark."
He wanted to deny her the chance at being uncomfortable, but her expression and the unchanging color of the flame showed him that she wasn't worried in the slightest.
Ark obliged, gently putting her to sleep. His heart pounded as her tail flame gently flickered while it changed from yellow-orange to white.
After being certain that she wasn't in any danger, he closed his eyes to enter her dream.
His relief was indescribable when he saw that Twig wasnt in the flaming bunker, or in a mystery dungeon, or being crushed or anything.
She was sitting near the edge of one of the many cliffs of Mount Trevail, the mountain's forest a short walk away from where she was. She stared out into the horizon while the sun shone down from the middle of the sky. She turned her head to face Ark once he appeared and smiled fondly.
"Took you long enough." She gently remarked.
Ark wanted to laugh, not at her joke, but at just how she was still her, despite the current circumstances. Ark silently moved next to where she was sitting, and lowered himself to the ground. Changing the sun's position to that of just peeking above the horizon.
The two stayed silent for a while.
"Finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me." Twig spoke. Ark glanced at her scar before nodding. "The feeling is mutual."
Ark didnt watch the sunrise. He was watching Twig from the corner of his eyes. His heart sank when Twig's expression suddenly fell.
"I thought I asked for a sunrise, Ark?"
It was too overwhelming. Ark rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her. Twig seemed surprised, not at him hugging her so suddenly, but that it took this long for him to do so.
Ark took in a breath that shook intensly. "I-... I can't do it Twig. I don't-." Ark could feel tears streaming down his face. He hyperventilated whenever he wasn't saying anything "I-I can't do it. I ca-an't be alone h-h-h- Again."
Twig wrapped her arms around him as he wet her chest with tears.
"Shhhhh." She gently rubbed the back of his head. "You wont be alone. It'll be okay."
Ark squeezed her tighter, he wanted her closer to him.
"Twig. I'm-. I'm so scared Twig. I don't-. I don't know wh-what I'll do with-... I dont know wh-at i'll do without you."
Twig lowered her neck to rest on Ark's shoulders. "You'll keep going." She quietly responded.
Ark tightened his grip again. He let out a sob that was louder than all the others.
"Th-theres still time, Twig. h-h- Cresselia-..." Ark's voice cracked. He couldnt force the rest out.
Twig gave a small sigh. No trace of disappointment, sadness, fear or anger.
"I know Ark. But I don't want to. It's going to be okay."
The dream started to shift in a way that was unfamiliar to him.
Ark tried so hard to say something more. He wanted to apologize for being such a burden in her final hours. He wanted to tell her how much he misses her. He wanted to scream and cry and wail about just how much he loves her.
But he couldn't. Everything he tried saying came out as sputtered half words and sobs. After a moment, Twig gave a small chuckle.
"I love you more than words can describe too, Ark."
The landscape around them was being cast in a shadowy haze.
Ark didnt want to let go.
He didn't want to let go.
He so badly wanted to stay with her forever.
Ark's eyes shot open. His face, soaked with tears, his arms wrapped around his chest, hugging himself. He was back in Twig's room. The only light shining from the waxing crescent moon. He looked up to see Twig, resting peacefully. The only movement she made was the thin strand of smoke rising from her extinguished tail.
Ark fell forward and clutched her desperately. The only sound in the room being quiet sobbing.
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earlgreydream · 4 months
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His. | Loki x reader smut
I finally the Loki tv show… this does NOT have any spoilers, it’s set on Asgard with a newly appointed king and his coronation gift…
cw: d/s
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“Leave any traces of fear in this room.” The command was clear, spoken sharply by a royal attendant.
Your gaze didn’t leave the fragrant water of the bath you knelt in, the attendant taking care to wash every inch of your skin. Other women pulled fluttering silks from a wardrobe, lying it out for you and finding jewelry to match. So much led to this moment, and yet it didn’t seem real — anticipation and anxiety buzzing in your head. You’d been told once already to contain the obvious fear that lingered in your chest, but the daunting task of doing so seemed impossible when your fate was waiting on a silver platter, the moment you left the private chamber you were being bathed in.
“Come, out of the water before your skin wrinkles,” you were hauled to your feet, wrapped in towels and rubbed down by several girls with movements so quick, you were barely left time to react.
Hands massaged your tense limbs, covering them in oils that bloomed with exotic scents, leaving your skin gleaming. At the same time, your hair was fixed, emeralds — his favorite — twisted into the locks and fastening to bare your neck.
“It’s customary to dress her in white,” a handmaiden spoke of you as if you were not there.
“The prince prefers black.” The will of your all-powerful god silenced any protest, everyone moving to do his bidding.
The women fretted — you had to be perfect for him. They prepared you to be presented to the god, as a divine gift to honor the crown prince of Asgard. You were bathed, decorated, and dressed, all to please the god you were gifted to, an expectation that you’d been bred for. It was a great honor to be taken from the hills, to the castle of the gods, to walk amongst the divine, even if it meant your role was to do as your master saw fit, obeying every command. You had come to terms with it, knowing that upon prince Loki’s rise to the throne, you were the sacrifice — the gift — of the kingdom, a promise of good fortune and favor granted in return.
It all seemed like a far-away, distant dream in a future that would never come. Despite that, here you were, relinquishing your whole self to Asgard’s throne. You had never met the god, and never seen him up close. Of course you’d heard the stories, the wrath and prowess of the young prince, and even seen him from a distance — but being in his presence was something entirely new, before being expected to spend the rest of time at his mercy.
Asgardian silk draped over your skin, so light you wouldn’t know it was there. Your decency was concealed beneath expensive black fabric, hiding what was only meant for Loki to see in the moments after this. The handmaidens’ fussing finally ceased, ending the long evening of preparation.
“Come with me, and do as you’re told,” the woman in charge ushered you forward, opening the chamber doors, releasing you out of known captivity into unpredictability.
You swallowed the fear in your throat, steps silent as you followed her to the throne room, the festivities growing louder as you approached your fate. Before you were given a moment to hesitate, you were led into the cavernous room of gold and heavenly magic.
All at once, it fell silent as soldiers escorted you to the throne. There he was — the god himself, draped over his golden throne. Loki was the only one adorned finer than you, a golden helm atop his onyx waves, wild cerulean eyes that bore straight into your soul.
“Your majesty, a gift in exchange for your benevolence,” the ceremony’s representative from your kingdom presented you to Loki, a hand on your shoulder forcing you to kneel before the throne.
A dangerous smile curved the god’s lips, placing his scepter aside as he rose to his feet.
“A very generous gift indeed,” Loki’s lyrical voice wrapped around your throat, stealing the air from your lungs.
He was impossibly tall and lean as he approached you, toned muscles visible even through the heavy layers of leather and gold that adorned his figure. Loki was no mere prince, but a god of mischief, holding an entire world in the palm of his delicate hand. A dark mischief glittered in his eyes, the gorgeous royal leaning down to look closely at you.
He tilted your chin up, looking him directly in the eye, immediately disarmed and vulnerable as you did so. His expression changed almost imperceptibly, gone from his eyes in a flash as he looked away from you, addressing the court who had handed you over.
Your ears were ringing too loudly to hear what he said, your head spinning. A solider moved to guide you to sit at the base of the throne, at Loki’s feet, when you were suddenly snapped back into the present moment.
“You will not lay a hand on what is mine!” Loki’s shout thundered through the chamber, stopping the man before he could touch you.
The soldier quickly fell back, recognizing the lethal danger of disrespecting Loki. An entire room held its breath, the seconds agonizing, exhaling only when Loki motioned for festivities to resume.
Despite the advice to hide your fear, Loki could practical feel your startled fright. Everything else blurred into the background, the celebration entertaining itself, leaving you and Loki at the center of your own universe.
Loki leaned down with an outstretched hand, his expression softening as you met his gaze. He had not yet spoken directly to you, but you didn’t need instruction to place your hand in his, allowing his strength to move you forward. Loki guided you to kneel at his feet as he resumed his place on the throne, slotted between his long legs.
Delicate fingers gently tilted your chin to look up at him, the touch startlingly gentle, a stark contrast to what you’d been warned of.
“There is a long night of festivities ahead, you may rest on me if you grow weary,” Loki granted you permission to lie your head against his thigh, to sink back into the new shelter.
You gave a small nod of understanding, looking back down as his attention was demanded from another round of celebration.
Despite the dizzying commotion of Loki’s ceremony, your limbs became heavy and keeping your eyes open was a losing battle. Loki peered down at you as you slowly laid your head against his leg, letting your exhausted body rest for the first time.
A fierce desire to protect you swelled in Loki’s chest, suddenly cross with the noise and lights that combatted your sleep. As he continued to entertain offerings of exotic fruits and tributes from his kingdoms, Loki moved a leg in front of you, glaring at anyone who so much as looked too long in your direction.
He couldn’t imagine how drained you were, to sleep through the chaos. Your weight rested against his leg, though you didn’t let yourself fully drift into deep sleep, some part of you making sure that you were upright, not wanting to displease him.
Loki carefully supported you as he stood, lifting you off the floor with godly strength. The festivities continued without him — kings, gods, and valkyrie reenacting stories of battles and playing with magic in the great halls.
He’d had quite enough of the noise and empty affection, and desired nothing more than some quiet time alone with his offering.
“Careful,” he warned softly as you began to stir, strengthening his grip to keep you from falling.
“M’sorry,” you mumbled, your first words spoken in a haze of exhaustion.
“It’s alright, you’re free to rest,” Loki laid you down on his bed the moment you entered the privacy of his chambers.
Golden floors were etched in sweeping illustrations of history and mythology, telling the stories of your god beneath the bed draped in dark green silks. Huge doors opened to a veranda, a summer breeze ruffling the curtains, allowing glimpses of glittering astronomy overhead.
Your mind yearned to stay awake, to learn your surroundings and stay vigilant in the presence of Loki. Despite that, your body screamed for sleep, sinking into the soft bedding he had placed you on.
.
Loki watched you sleep.
Exhaustion kept your body rigidly still, not moving once the entire night. You stayed curled up in the very corner of the expansive bed, out of reach of Loki, who eventually took his place as the sun cracked the horizon.
The only indication you were real, was the gentle rise and fall of your back as you breathed. As you slept, the frightened expression vanished from your face, softening the your features. Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of you, studying your almost peaceful face.
Loki drifted in and out of sleep, not bothering to wake you after such a late and overwhelming night. You must have been weary, because you couldn’t have been comfortable, making yourself as small as possible at the very edge of the bed, not wanting to take up too much of Loki’s space.
You slowly opened your eyes, sunlight streaming in through the open veranda. The morning seemed impossibly peaceful, despite waking up into a new life of servitude. This didn’t feel like what you’d expected — waking up in a comfortable bed with the warm sun on your face, the scent of breakfast wafting from a huge spread on the chamber’s dining table.
“Good morning, darling,” Loki’s voice was much softer in the privacy of the chambers, without an audience.
You sat up, looking over as he stood from a couch, setting aside a novel. He was more relaxed, wearing loose black linen, his hair tied up loosely.
“Hi,” you whispered, at a loss for words — partially in awe of how gorgeous he was, and partially cautious, as if he were a cobra waiting to strike at any wrong move.
He watched as you observed your surroundings, inspecting your golden cage in the light of day. Loki’s chambers were beautiful, bright, and serene. It seemed so divorced from the perception you had of the god before being let in to the most private part of his existence. Loki moved smoothly throughout the room, delicate hands attached to a lean, muscular body. Loki’s face was sculpted out of marble, so stunningly beautiful it left you breathless. Green eyes pierced straight into your soul, laid bare when he looked at you.
“Eat something,” he gestured to the feast at the table, as if he were the devil, offering food to a goddess to keep captive in his lair forever.
It was your job to obey, your body moving before your mind even considered protest. The shimmering gown you were wearing the night before swept the floor as you walked, Loki admiring how beautiful you were, even slightly disheveled.
You hesitantly took a berry from the table, bringing it to your lips, licking the sweetness off your fingertips. The sight stirred something inside of Loki, his gaze focusing on the contours of your body that were visible through the just-sheer parts of the fabric draped over you.
“Master?” You could feel the weight of his gaze, invisibly drawing you to him.
Loki stepped toward you, pleased as you sank to your knees without any encouragement, easing into his submission. You wanted it, needed it, like your lungs needed air. A shimmer of green made your clothing disappear, baring you fully to Loki’s intoxicated gaze.
“Look at you, fit for a god,” he praised, slowly circling you as you kneeled, appreciating you from every angle.
“Only for you, master.”
“Loki,” he permitted you to call him by name, a request that pulled the corners of your lips up with small satisfaction.
The floor was cold beneath your knees, and your skin began to prick beneath a cool breeze from the veranda. Loki swelled over the recognition that you were his, and his alone. He was hard in the loose linen pants, eager to claim full ownership of you in such an intimate way. You willingly surrendered to him, practically desperate for him to take you, to consummate your submission to the god.
Your hands smoothed up the solid muscles of Loki’s thighs — limbs you wish to be bent over — before clutching the linen waistband and dragging down his trousers. The sight of him hung heavy made your mouth water and your cunt throb, desire swirling in your belly.
“Go ahead. Touch me as you please, I’m as much yours as you are mine,” Loki murmured, realizing you were waiting for permission, to do as you were told.
Long fingers wove into your hair, cradling the side of your head, pulling only slightly as you licked the tip of his cock, sending a shock up his spine.
He leaned back against the wall, smirking as your left palm flattened over his toned abs to brace yourself, pleased that you were trusting his words.
“Gods,” Loki swore when you took him in your mouth, letting him push you down until he was filling your throat.
Pretty tears welled at your lashes at his size, your throbbing need beginning to smear between your thighs. Your free hand worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, your tongue dragging up his shaft. He was both long and thick, his skin like velvet on your tongue. It was a feat to take even half of him in your mouth, and you moaned and the thought of him fucking you, and how you’d beg to take it all.
“If worshipping my cock makes you wet enough to drip on my floor, I’ll let you do it every morning,” Loki purred with a grin, clearly taking notice of the effect he had on your body.
“Please,” you whimpered respectfully, dragging your fist up his length, giving your mouth a break.
“I’m close, darling, you’re doing beautifully,” he praised, watching your thighs squeeze together at his words.
“I want to come in that gorgeous mouth, feel myself in your throat.”
You tilted your head back just a bit, both to gaze up into his eyes and to let him in deeper. A low whine vibrated around his cock as his hand wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing.
“Fuck,” Loki hissed, spilling over into your mouth, filling your senses with his salty taste.
“Swallow it,” Loki commanded, and you were all too willing to obey, wanting to please him.
His thumb swiped over your lips, cleaning up the bit of mess he made, kneeling in front of you as you both caught your breath.
“Was that okay?” the question slipped out before you could stop yourself, puzzling Loki.
“Of course, it was perfect. Haven’t you done it before?”
“No, I’ve been kept pure for you,” you answered, earning a profane string of Norse as his dick twitched.
“You’ve made me insatiable,” Loki pressed a quick, messy kiss to your mouth that was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“No!” Loki shouted, standing up, displayed in his full glory to the guard who opened the door.
The furious god stood in front of you, blocking any eyes from catching even a glimpse of your body.
“Get out, now, or I shall have your eyes torn out!” Loki thundered, fiercely possessive over you.
“I’m so sorry, your highness. Odin has called on you—”
A sharp burst of Loki’s magic sent the man flying backward with a yell, the door slamming shut behind him.
“I’m sorry-” you began, as if you needed to apologize for being nude.
“I will never let anyone else touch you, see your body, or covet what is mine.”
A warmth spread through you at the words, taking his hand to stand up. He took a cloth, carefully cleaning you up, before guiding you into a closet that was full of the finest Asgardian fabrics.
“We’ll continue this later, darling, but for now, you’ll accompany me on whatever nonsense I’m being summoned for,” Loki explained, moving to dress himself as he left you to choose what maids had left for your arrival.
You chose green, pleasing the god as you adorned his colors, another sign of your growing devotion. Loki kissed your wrist, before a band of gold appeared in a shimmer, bringing a smile to your face.
He wordlessly led you out of his chambers, a hand at the small of your back. Being with him was intense — but the castle and all of its people was overwhelming. You found yourself leaning into Loki’s side, away from the noise of shouting and chaos of the everyday happenings.
He looked up from the throne to see what was bothering you before pulling you to sit between his legs where you could sink back into him and ignore the noise.
“We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished. Until then, you can entertain yourself by picturing what I’m going to do to your precious little pussy,” Loki whispered against the side of your face, gently nipping your ear.
You shuddered against his chest, feeling him chuckle beneath you as his arm tightened on your waist. Warmth flushed your cheeks and you turned your face into his arm, shy at the filthy words from Loki. He could feel your heart racing inside your ribs, anxious to tear the emerald gown from your body.
You were lost in your thoughts when Loki banished everyone from the expansive throne room, giant doors embedded with gemstones slamming shut, sealing you alone with him.
“Now, where were we?” Loki asked, mouthing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.
“I believe you were about to fuck me, Loki,” you chirped.
“I love hearing those dirty words on your lips, all for me.”
“Only you,” you promised, closing the gap as he hovered above you.
The kiss was heady, his tongue warm and dominating as he pushed it past your lips. The sensation nearly distracted you from his hands, that were tearing the fabric around your torso, letting it flutter to the floor in shimmering pieces.
“I’m going to fuck you here, on this throne, like a proper king.”
You parted your legs, letting his hand drop between them. Loki smirked into your neck as he cupped your sex, feeling how wet you were, desperate for him as heat radiated from your center.
He didn’t bother to turn you over, perfectly happy to fuck you while you were on top of him, lying on his chest as he sat upon his throne. He glided his cock along your wet lips, only a moment until you were squirming with desperation.
He wanted to hear you beg, but even he couldn’t wait any longer, slowly sinking into you, every inch stretching you impossibly further. The sweet sting made you cry out, your head dropping back on his shoulder when he nestled himself fully inside you.
“You’re perfect for me,” Loki praised through gritted teeth, fighting not to slam into you like an animal. He could feel your walls throbbing around him, muscles burning as they were forced to take the stretch to fit him inside — and you loved it.
You doubted anything would ever feel so good, until his hips started to roll forward, the god fucking you deep and slow, holding your body against his chest. He buried his face in your shoulder, soaking up your squeals of pleasure as he lost himself in you.
Before he even thought to play with you, your cunt began to clench around him with an impending orgasm. Your startled whimper shot straight to Loki’s dick, and he fucked you harder, unable to help himself.
“Come around me, darling, let me know how good you feel,” Loki urged, nearly spilling into you as you trembled in his arms, coming with a scream that echoed off the walls.
“There you go,” he murmured, twitching before he filled you with his seed, painting your insides with him.
Your breaths were ragged and uneven, mind completely foggy in the aftermath. He breathed in your scent as he stayed inside you, preserving the moment for as long as possible.
“I’m yours, forever,” you whispered, as if reading his mind.
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ceilidho · 5 months
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prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 3. (read 1, 2) tags: dubcon
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The Christmas party presents a whole new challenge in trying to ward Johnny off.
It’s hard because at first you almost gravitate towards him, weirdly enchanted by his ugly sweater with red reindeer on the sleeves. It’s only when he finally spots you—and you shudder when you notice the way his eyes scan across the crowd of other employees, seeking you out—and he practically lights up that you snap back to reality.
He blazes a path towards you like a heat seeking missile, dodging around your other coworkers. You stand there awkwardly as he cuts across the room, wondering if maybe you should’ve just texted your manager some excuse about feeling sick and stayed home. Too late now though. 
Fortunately for you, the assistant manager intercepts before Johnny’s able to make it halfway across the room, stepping between the two of you like they don’t even realize they’ve interrupted anything. There’s a split second where you can see Johnny wrestle with the urge to push them aside, fury clear in his eyes. Maybe only to you. The assistant manager opens their mouth and talks like nothing’s amiss, like it isn’t clear that Johnny is only a handful of seconds away from causing serious harm.
Then it passes; recedes into the dark. Johnny’s blue eyes go pellucid again, unbothered by the real world. The smile that spreads across his face seems sincere; if you hadn’t been watching him that entire time, you might not have even thought that he’d harboured any violence inside of him. 
You saw it though. You saw it.
It makes sense in the context of his background. You’d never given the ex-military thing much thought, but every so often you can almost feel the ghost of its presence in the back of your mind. When his reflexes kick in or the gleam in his eyes grows dark. He doesn’t ever talk about his past life in specifics, only grand overtures meant to distract anyone listening, but what he does reveal sometimes makes your stomach clench. 
You swallow and turn back to the conversation with your other coworkers, steadfastly avoiding Johnny’s eyes peeking over the assistant manager’s head. 
The breakroom is decked out in cheap Christmas decorations, a fiber-optic tree set up in the corner, iridescent bristles shifting colours with every blink. Someone passes you a vaguely alcoholic drink and you sip at it nervously, reaching the bottom of your first cup faster than you anticipated. 
Your secret Santa gift is on a table just outside the breakroom in the hall, along with all the other gifts. Something about it draws your eyes several times throughout the evening. Maybe something you saw but didn’t register. It’s hard to keep focused on the conversation happening around you when your attention oscillates between Johnny and the gift table, but you respond hastily when someone prompts you to answer. 
It comes to light when someone clinks a spoon against their glass and directs everyone to gather in the middle of the room. Two of the warehouse guys awkwardly try to bring the table into the room without knocking any of the gifts onto the floor. There are a few casualties, but when they manage to twist it enough to get it through the door, someone pulls up a chair to stand on and read off all of the names to hand out the gifts. 
Several people coo when you’re revealed as the recipient of Johnny’s gift. There’s no reason for it to come as a shock, but your stomach clenches anyway.
He stands practically right up against you when you open it. You know the second you unwrap it that the delicate bottle of perfume in your hands must have been in the three figures. All you did was get someone a handmade mug from a local craft fair. He stares at you when you unwrap it, beaming when you give him a very controlled thank you because the alternative is screaming that this is way too expensive for you to keep. 
“Ye should put it on,” he tells you, breathing just a little heavier. “Really want ta smell it on ye.”
You don’t know what possesses you to give it a spritz on your wrist, letting him guide your hand to dab it against the base of your throat. It’s intimate enough that his eyes follow the movement of your throat when you swallow, mouth going dry. They drag up to your lips when they part, a hesitant thanks hanging off your tongue.
“Jesus Christ, get a room already,” someone near you murmurs, but it doesn’t take long for their attention to slip off you as the next gift recipient is announced. Not Johnny though. 
Your mouth snaps shut.
He hovers at your back for the rest of the gift handouts, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. You flinch at his bitten off groans whenever you so much as fidget, rubbing against him. Shaking him off seems like a hopeless task until someone asks if you have a lozenge, giving you an excuse to take them to your locker. 
You can feel him stalking you like a shark around the breakroom when you chat with some of your other coworkers, the smile on your face becoming forced. 
“Did’ya know Johnny actually—oh, sorry, burped—he actually paid me…to get your name?” your coworker giggles, absolutely sloshed. You’re tipsy too, but her words make you go a bit cold.
“Pardon?” you ask. The red cup crackles when your fingers tighten around it.
“He paid me. Fifty dollars. Jus’ to get your name for the…for the stupid Santa thing. The secret Santa.”
You can feel the way your mouth hangs open, just a bit. Her words echo in your head, the conversation long over. You let her prattle on, still stuck on the thought of Johnny paying someone off just for the opportunity to give you a gift. The longer you stand there and chat with your coworkers, the more difficult it gets to look normal. 
“Isn’t that something?” she prompts, nudging you with an elbow. Even the slightest touch hits you like a battering ram. 
“Yeah,” you parrot back, “it’s something.”
Perhaps you’re overdue for a conversation with Johnny about boundaries. More than overdue. The package has been signed, sealed, and delivered. It was overdue months ago, the day you started working at the same store as him. By now, you should’ve quit or transferred, hell you should’ve yelled at him that one time he stopped you in the garden section to apply his own personal Chapstick to your lips (you don’t think about how you’d bitten them raw from staring across the row of potted flowers as he stacked bag after bag of fertilizer onto a customer’s pallet before pushing it to their car, his sleeves rolled up and thick biceps on display the whole time). 
Can anyone blame you for being confused? It’s obvious what he’s offering. He does nothing to hide it. It’s also obvious that it would be, unequivocally, a terrible idea to take him up on it. 
Maybe you just need some fresh air. You make an excuse and peel off from the rest of the group, heading for the door. Someone lurches out of the shadows in the corner before you can make it out. 
“Look, bonnie—mistletoe,” Johnny teases, not letting you so much as glance up before snatching you by the hips and reeling you into him. 
The kiss he plants on you is filthy and wet. Open-mouthed too so he can slip you his tongue, licking over the roof of your mouth. Sucking your bottom lip when you can’t help the whimper that slips out and he breaks away for only a split second to whisper oh fuck under his breath. Your mind reels when he dives back in for another kiss. He’s as good of a kisser as you might have expected, messy but forceful, threading a hand into your hair to hold you in place. The way he roots you in place licks at something delicious inside of you, a secret, buried urge.
Johnny finally pulls away when he can no longer convincingly ignore the way you push on his shoulders and squirm in his arms. His lips are wet when he pulls back, a thin strand of saliva clinging between your lips. It breaks when he runs his tongue across the wetness. 
Someone whistles and Johnny grins from ear to ear, bashful under the joy brimming out of him. You stumble away the second his hands loosen on your hips, wiping a hand across your mouth.
“Good for you, John!” someone shouts through cupped hands and several of your coworkers cackle. 
This time you actually manage to make it out the door and down the hall to the employee restroom. You spend the next few minutes washing your hands until your fingertips go pruney under the warm water and you try to think of anything except the texture of Johnny’s lips. 
You touch your lips no less than three times. Each time, your fingers come back trembling. It’s what you’d long expected from Johnny, from someone that looks like him, like the physical embodiment of ‘for a good time, call…’ written in lipstick on the back of a gas station bathroom door. 
The last thing you want to do is give him an inch, throw him a bone—actually lead him on, as your coworker might say. Still, your finger trembles on your lip. You know he’d make it good. Even if he didn’t, looking like that, who could blame you? The thought makes you wince, conscience of objectifying him, but haven’t you been subject to worse by now? You’re due far more than some measly peck for how many times he’s slapped your ass, stolen your scrunchie (two so far), or said something nasty to you.
It’s not hard to track him down when he’s always hovering nearby, this time just off by the watercooler with your manager and a few other coworkers. The hand not holding a drink is buried deep in his pocket, the smile on his face strained by a mask of politeness; you can tell at a glance that he’s only playing at civility, that he’d rather be anywhere else but chatting with his boss and colleagues at the office party.
When he spots you approaching the group of them, his eyes widen, excitement bleeding back into them. It takes your breath away.
“Ah, there’s your other half, Johnny,” your manager says and you freeze. 
“Aye, so she is. She’s a good little kisser, did’ye see?” Johnny gushes, pulling you in by the waistband of your pants. You’re a bit too tipsy to protest when he slips his hand around your waist. 
It clicks into place. When he pulls you into his side, it feels like slotting into a space made just for you, unwelcome or not. You don’t even notice if your other coworkers laugh or not, fixated on his eyes. He can hardly pull them away from you. Every long shift waking up on the sofa in the breakroom with Johnny standing over you, eyes glinting like a predator’s in the woods, and every coworker’s joke about being Johnny’s girl feels like it’s been leading to this. You have to know what it’d be like. 
“Um…Johnny?” you start, tugging on his shirt gently.
“Yeah, hen? What’s it?”
“Can we…um…do you wanna go somewhere more private?”
His breathing stops, body frozen against yours. “Ye serious, kitty? You’re not joking?”
You shake your head. “Just…just one time? Maybe?”
The first sign of movement from him is a full body shudder that nearly makes you step back. The frazzled look in his eyes borders on manic, flitting around the room looking for the nearest exit. Johnny tosses the group some hasty, poorly worded goodbye (you think he even flubs your manager’s name) and tears away from them, you still glued to his side. Someone giggles as you leave. You can’t pay them any mind though, not with how frantically Johnny pulls you out of the breakroom and down the hall, his long strides nearly making you trip over your feet.
“Johnny—slow down—”
“Hen, I’ll carry ye over my shoulder to the closet, I swear.”
He nearly barrels you over with how forcefully he pushes you into the closet, hot mouth latched onto the side of your throat. You hear the sound of the lock clicking behind him. The closet is swathed in darkness, only the barest hint of light bleeding through from underneath the doorway. It’s hardly enough for you to see anything in front of you, but that almost doesn’t matter with how Johnny curls around you, his body caging you in against the shelving behind you. 
“Please, please, fuck, I cannae believe it, fuck—” Johnny groans into your neck, a pathetic desperate sound that you’ve never heard from him before. He even keens a bit. “Oh Jesus, baby, I’ve been—dinnae if ye knew or not, but I’ve been fuckin’ obsessed with ye for ages, Christ.”
You let out a laugh in disbelief, embarrassed by how breathless it sounds. “I—oh—I f-figured.”
His hands drag up and down your back, tugging at the fabric of your shirt and practically ripping it out of where it’s been tucked into your pants. If you had buttons, you think you’d burst straight off, zip off the walls and roll under one of the shelves. Johnny’s eagerness bleeds through—months of barely concealed lust unravelling right in front of you, his hands practically shaking when they grope along your sides and under your breasts. His fingers dig almost painfully into your flesh until you whimper and he murmurs a broken apology into your neck.
“Wha’d’ye want, baby? I can—fuck, anything ye want, I promise—” Johnny begs, the sound almost pitiful. It makes your pussy ache.
“Your—your mouth—” 
The speed with which he drops to his knees almost makes you flinch. His kneecaps are only saved by the carpeted floor, present nowhere else in the employee section apart from the supply closets. His hands go to the zipper and button on your jeans, yanking viciously, almost snarling when they don’t immediately come undone. When you try to help him, he bares his teeth, more animalistic than you’ve ever seen him before.
“Do these fuckin’ pants even come off?” Johnny growls, giving another yank. You hear something rip and wince.
He manages to wrench your pants down until they pool around your ankles, only enough concentration left in him to pull one leg out and drape it over his shoulder. 
“Johnny—my underwear—holy shit—” you gasp when he mashes his face into the crotch of your panties, laving his tongue over the fabric. You can feel the heat of it through the gusset of your underwear, each desperate lick trying unsuccessfully to pull them to the side. 
“Fuck, s’ry, baby, I’ll take ‘em off,” he apologizes, voice muffled where his mouth is still pressed to your pussy. Reluctant to move even an inch away from you. 
It takes him a couple more seconds before he’s able to move away just long enough to pull your underwear down as well, struggling with getting it over the leg still draped over his shoulder and nearly losing his patience twice over. 
He takes to eating you out like something he’s done for years—naturally. Crudely. Eyes fluttering shut when he drags his tongue from your slit to your clit, unabashedly enjoying himself. His moans drag through you, making you nearly shake right out of your skin. His chin is already wet when you glance down. He spreads your inner lips with two fingers to open you fully to his gaze, lapping at your clit until he can hardly pull his mouth away from your cunt. 
Johnny drags one of your hands from his hair to cradle the side of his face, turning into your palm to take a deep inhale. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks, eyes several degrees hotter when they meet yours through the curtain of his lashes.
“Fuckin’ smell like mine too,” he growls. You jolt at his words. He draws a finger into his mouth and gives it a suck, making you trill. 
“D-don’t get any ideas,” you gasp, other hand threading through his hair now, turnabout fair play. “S’just a—ah, ah—a one-time t-thing.”
“Aye, one time, one time,” he repeats. “Gonna make it so good f’r ye, baby.”
The two fingers spreading you open push against your entrance insistently. The initial stretch makes you tug at his hair, flushing when all that does is make him moan, mouth hung open sluttily. He looks even more strung out than you, eyes dark and heady. He’s also never looked more attractive.
Shelves jab into the small of your back, the ache growing the longer he keeps you like that with one leg slung over his shoulder, your knees almost buckling. Impossible to concentrate on the voice in your head screaming that this is a bad idea, not when he runs his tongue over your clit and sucks. Not when you’re forced to clamp a palm over your mouth to drown out your sounds. 
The press of a third finger into you makes you flinch and yank at his hair, harder this time. Hard enough for Johnny to back off, an apology muttered into your wetness. The two splitting you are more than enough, you think, a bit wildly. He shouldn’t be prepping you for anything more. There’s a furrow to his brows though, a bit of frustration wedged in there. Like putting up with your complaints annoys him just a bit.
“John—c’mon, please, not so loud,” you beg.
He pumps his fingers into you, eyes trained on the spot where they disappear. The look in his eyes borders on reverent. “Always mouthin’ off, huh? Even when I’m getting ye off? On my knees ‘n everything?”
“There are p-people outside,” you hiss, clamping your hand back down over your mouth when he curls his fingers and presses up into you. 
“Yeah?” The question sounds rhetorically, almost a challenge. The smile on his lips goes wicked sharp. “God, we wouldnae want ‘em ta hear, huh? What ye pulled me away from the party for?”
You don’t know why that’s what sets you off, but it does, eyes watering with the force of your orgasm. Back arched. Your head aches from where you knocked it back into the shelf behind you. Johnny groans when you clench around his fingers.
It’s a few seconds before you feel like you can speak again. The first thing you can utter is a hiss when Johnny laps at your slit again, far too sensitive for him to still be touching you.
“You can, ah…you can let me go now,” you pant. Coming back to your body takes an age, legs still trembling, held up by Johnny’s hands alone.
His fingers grip harder into your flesh. You stare down at him. 
“Oh, pretty baby,” Johnny coos, eyes black with desire, “we’re jus’ gettin’ started.”
1K notes · View notes
frogchiro · 4 months
Note
Here is an idea but a feral Minotaur König to juxtapose Gladiator Ghost.
Minotaur König belongs to @kneelingshadowsalome so if you want more of it please go check her blog out!! She's so talented and pays so much attention to details, I'm in love ;;
But! I imagine Minotaur! König to be something more like a spectacle, something to be presented and paraded around like the most prized bull for the peasants to gawk at. And he hates it. Despises it. He's been captured and enslaved like some animal and shown off as if he's more of a possession than actual living, breathing, sentient being.
He wouldn't be even let into the Coliseum in fear of someone actually besting the 'beast' and what would that mean for those soft, spineless men in fancy clothes who make a fortune out of him as he's paraded naked all over the Coliseum, his tail lashing behind him and his ears twitching from the noise. Shut up shut up shut up shut-
Suddenly the entourage made out of guards is stopped in front of a luxury balcony where apparently the most fancy people sit and-
Imagine Minotaur!König being given to you as a gift for the fairest Lady (Y/N), the esteemed Lady-In-Waiting of Lady Jokaste, sister of the Emperor. This wonderous beast was bought by her and given to you on your 21st birthday, the most rare of gifts and 'the rarity only fitting for a rare beauty like you', sung Lady Jokaste as she gazed at you with fondness while you literally couldn't utter a single word.
Imagine that although technically König is your possession in all means, you still treat him so so gently and carefully, putting healing ointment on his scars and new cuts instead of perfumed oils which irritated his wounds and skin further. You massage his strained muscles gently and shush him whenever he starts making loud, booming noises, probably of pain leaving his body.
And you're so skittish too, adorable. Like a pretty young doe you flinch at the slightest movement the bull makes, the jingle of the thin chain attached to a joke of a collar makes you jump and flush at the deep chuckle of the beast but König is delighted that he can make this pretty nymph jump and twitch, however he'd rather like you twitch on his large cock...
Speaking of which, yeah he hates wearing that pesky loincloth even if its silk, so most of the days he just forgoes it and walks around naked in all his glory. His huge, fat cock often twitching and leaking thick sperm whenever he catches your scent which is everywhere in your chambers or even better if he catches you when you're sitting around and lounging or preparing for a bath and you catch his heavy, lustful gaze :((
He chuckles, rumbles and chuffs at you from his place on the comfy bed of pillows and furs, laid out all bug and spread, his heavy, veiny cock spurting out so much cum it stains the pretty soft pillows and his full balls are so huge and so heavy, they are starting to ache y'know? :((
Why don't you come here pretty little nymph? All he wants to do is thank you for your kindness by tickling you with his long tongue and giving you his calf, wouldn't it be perfect? </3
1K notes · View notes
trafltr · 1 year
Text
i’m your national anthem | eren jaeger
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the note ☆ this is part two of my lana coded!eren ‘series’, see part one here. once again my soft spoken and older eren (drooling) spoiling his lovely little wife with everything he can but this time it’s at his place of work after she pays him a visit. it’s not as “cinematic” as the first part but i like this one a lot and it’s a birthday gift for myself lmao. inspired by national anthem (demo), lana del rey.
contains ☆ nsfw, fem!reader, stupidlyrich!eren, soft husband!eren, established relationship, semi-public sex (there are cameras), office sex, eren in a yummy suit, lotta praise, oral (m. receiving), handjobs, facefucking, vaginal, sex on a desk, backshots, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, panty stealing (kind of), possessive eren, he likes you in a sundress, use of pet names. black reader as always but it’s all subjective so read if you like it my loves <3
wc ☆ 4k words (it was meant to be much shorter lmao)
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eren jaeger is a successful man.
many would even stretch out as to say that he's almost won in life. he's made it on the forbes list, attended every exclusive gathering to be thrown in society, racked up hundreds of thousands of dollars in his chequing account; he's a well deserved ceo—not from start up connections, not from nepotism—eren jaeger has worked his way to the top from down below. and while he's considered to have everything a mortal man could ever dream of, eren believes his true fortune lies within you.
"mr. jaeger?" a timid voice calls from the entryway to the conference room, where a suit clad eren stands at the table's apex, which holds a stack of printed papers, with two other shareholders seated at the sides listening in on his presentation.
another thing about eren is that he likes rules—he has rules. there are rules employees know not to break; no bribes, no in house disputes, and certainly no entering his boardroom when having a meeting with his shareholders without his request. so when one of his brightest interns shifts uncomfortably under his gaze with a look of fear morphing his facial features, eren knows he’s been asked to do so by someone with more power than even him.
"i take it that my wife is here?" eren breathes, mindlessly running a hand through messy growing hair but still refusing to acknowledge the fact that you came at such an inconvenient time. "could she wait for another twenty minutes? we've almost concluded the contracts."
the sorry smile given by the intern is enough of an answer for him, "i don't think it would be appropriate for me to repeat the words she said, but she didn't give off the impression of wanting to wait long, sir."
so…spoiled.
he could already imagine how you would be waiting there; making yourself comfortable up on his desk, legs dangling in your four inch heels and tapping your nails against the glass whilst admiring the photo of the two of you on your honeymoon situated at the desks edge. of course, you would be doing this all with a small pout on your face, ready for you scold him for how long it's taken him to head back to you.
nursing an apologetic smile, he glances towards the man and woman on each side as if silently asking to resume this another time. they wave him off with small laughter, going on about keeping you happy and all the unimportant other things; eren's too preoccupied with going to see you to register their words.
he's quick making his way to the elevator, but not before swiping a single champagne coloured rose from a vase nearby; eren knows he can't show up empty handed, not with you. it's not irregular for you to come to his work so unannounced; at a random time on any given day. you strut around the office like it's yours, you make friends with the secretaries and listen to office gossip like you're one of them, and you tell his assistant all about the plans the two of you have like he doesn't already know. at this point his employees hold you in higher regard than they do him.
it's expected though; seeing how you have their boss contorted around your pretty finger.
your face lights up from it's bored expression when you hear the elevator chime. it takes four of eren's long strides to reach his office doors, and he opens it to a carbon copy of what he'd imagined only minutes ago.
"'ren!" smiling at his tall frame, you open up your arms for him to take. the smell of his rosewood cologne pronounces itself through the hug, which shortly turns into intertwined lips. "missed you." you mutter against his now gloss stained mouth, taking hold of his stubbled chin with long nails to deepen your kiss.
"i missed you too baby, got you this," he mumbles, handing you the flower before steadying his hands on both your sides, essentially baring you to his warm body, "how was your hair appointment?"
"thank you," you soften, casually dipping your nose into the welts of the rose to take in it's scent before continuing, "it was good, didn't take as long as i thought so i wanted to come say hi!" your eyes dilate to black expanses as you properly take him in. eren left early today, so you couldn't get a glimpse of him leaving the house. but seeing him now, with his hair pulled up into it's signature messy ponytail and the blue armani suit you told him buy—you could quite literally drool.
"it looks good." he takes a piece of your hair before leaving it alone. "and your dress looks real pretty on you."
grinning at his words, you shimmy out of his hold; intentionally ignoring the way his eyes follow the dips, curves and pudge highlighted by the sundress you wear. "so, i thought we could eat some food together."
for the first time since entering the room, his eyes shift from you over to the wicker basket on the nearby sofa.
you're sitting on his lap as he rests in his chair, putting some radish on the cucumber roll before feeding it to your husband, "hope i didn't pull you from anything..."
ah…
eren is a calculated man; he doesn't act irrationally. instead, he thinks—thinks for just a few seconds of possible outcomes depending on what he does. but with you? there's no need for that; you probably knew there was a high chance of him being in a meeting, if you weren't already told that by his assistant—so, as always, he chooses the answer that'll ultimately keep you happy.
"hm? nope, nothing important enough."
"oh, mkay." you nod, taking a mini donut from its cute package and popping it into your mouth. after dusting off your hands, you fiddle with the strands of hair that frame his face, “you coming home early today? we can watch that movie i was talking about—and i’ve been dying to get to properly use the theater with you.”
“let me think about it, princess—but i’ll try.” he sports a boyish smile, accepting the water bottle you hand him before watching you clean up the empty trays and takeout boxes. his words are most definitely for show, that man will be home by six instead of eight—hell, make it five.
perhaps eren jaeger truly has won at life; god…you look alluring, walking around his space with your heels like the place is your own, fragrancing the room with the scent of your lotion mixed with the perfume he gifted you. his wandering eye is fixed to your legs, catching how your dress rides up with every step taken.
“can feel you starin’ at me.” you tease in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips as you bend down to pick up fallen trash.
“good.” his long legs aid him in striding towards your frame, large hands come to rest on your hips from behind. his thumbs begin to rub soft circles on them as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “did my employees see you in this?”
“duh—i had to see them to see you,” you laugh. 
you know damn well what this is about, and you find it amusing. for the most part, your husband is a calm man; slow to anger, leans towards calmly solving disputes as opposed to growing aggressive, and when he gets agitated, he takes a break. but at the mere mention of his wife, eren seems to abandon all sensical thoughts of zen he once had. 
“any of ‘em stare?” 
“dunno.” you respond with a shrug and turn to face eren, smoothing down the collars of his outfit with your hands, “i don’t pay attention to any of them. they’re not you.”
“okay.” he makes his way back to his seat, gesturing to you to follow along. “i really do mean it when i say you look nice in that dress—well, i always mean it but…”
you’re giggling, standing in between his spread legs while looking down at him, “thanks ‘ren.”
“mhm, i’m the luckiest man in the world.”
oh…he has that tone in his voice again; the rasped one that has your legs pressing together when he speaks. it’s the kind that happens when he gets a lustful glint in his eyes—when he wants to fuck you. his hands wander up the fabric of your dress, the feeling of his cold wedding band makes you gasp and steady your hands onto his shoulders for support.
“h-hold on.”
“something wrong?” he stills, “if it’s the cameras, i’ll get the footage removed—or maybe you want me to get a copy of it?”
“nothing’s wrong.” you shake your head, but make a mental note to ask him to indeed grab a copy before deleting it, “just want you to relax for a moment—i know i took you out of that meeting.” you speak as slowly and your fingers move down his arms, keeping his eye contact as you lower your knees to the ground. “‘m sorry love, i wanted to see you for a bit.”
why are you apologizing? there’s no need for you to, there’s never been a need for you to, and eren doesn’t think he would ever make you either. 
“let me make it up to you.” 
you don’t let him get much of a word out before you’re unzipping his slacks and palming the prominent bulge that greets your eyes. his body shows it’s gratitude by sinking into your ghostly touch. eren can only breath in sharp inhales as you free his dick from it’s confinement, straightening itself out as translucent pre stumbles from the tip. you shouldn’t be shy but eren is big in every sense. and your brain seems to struggle with object permanence; eyes almost blowing open in surprise of how thick he is despite you practically owning it. the phantom ache in your jaw seems to be a warning—you shouldn’t try anything.
but eren’s presence alone overrides all alarms and commands in your brain, and the hazy look he gives you from his seat has you subconsciously wrapping your hand around his base, shifting across the length and tracing the roads and ridges of his veins with your tongue. 
he sucks his teeth when you pucker your lips at the slightly pinkish tip, feathering a little kiss before letting spit fall from your mouth and onto his cock. the dribble doesn’t make it past the head before you’re meeting it with your lips, steadily taking him into your stretched walls. the feeling of the burn from your mouth molding in indecent ways would make you wince if not for the effects eren’s soft groans and breaths have on your cloudy mind.
“such a pretty sight. p-pretty fuckin’ view.” a sigh escapes him when you hollow your cheeks. admittedly, it’s nothing like the home he knows your cunt as, but when you bottom out and his tip punches the back of your throat, it seems like the closest thing. it surely is a sight to see: a sweet woman like you, doing something so damn nasty.
your throat tightens with each bob, trying its best to prevent a gag but failing every now and then. still, you plant a hand on his knee for stability to lessen the slight burn in your knees given by the nylon carpet beneath them, and allow the mixture of precum and saliva escape your mouth and dribble everywhere. 
“oh, fuck—yeah, you got it.” he’s amazed, seeing you take him like a fucking champion, choking all over him without a single complaint. “that’s my girl.”
despite going nice and slow, you get messy—his dick fucks up your sensory system. glittery tears breach your water line, threatening to drop and roll as you sniffle away. 
eren is pulled out of his trance when your mouth escapes him, watching you with a slight furrow in his brow. you gaze at him through your pretty lash extensions, tongue unfurling out for you to tap him on. “tastes so good eren.”
“shit—don’t say that to me.” his whimpers are loud, as loud as his heaves for the same air that seems to avoid him. conscious of the chance that sound could somehow transfer, he drapes his hand across the lower half of his face and captures the guttural groan from his chest.
“you don’t need to be quiet,” your hand grabs hold of his own, carefully guiding it from his mouth to the back of your head. silently, you watch him with admirable and expectant eyes that could make him cum from the sight alone, “don’t you own this place?”
my god… you want him to face fuck you, you’re outwardly asking him to do so without a drop of shame. right until your makeup is ruined and a crying mess from how full your mouth is. he doesn’t do it often—he’s too scared of watching you cough up spit and develop a sore throat the next day for it to happen regularly. besides, eren is a pleaser—very rarely did he have you like this unless you openly wanted it. but with the look of expectation you have, sniffling and pleading for him to help you like a dutiful husband he promised to be, it’s difficult to him to do anything other than comply.
eren wants to give you a standing ovation watching you submissively relax in his tender hold. with eyes full of love, he steadily lines you up with his tip, counting you to three before guiding you down the length of his cock. your husband starts off slow, keeping a nice pace that makes it easy to inhale enough to go back down. but like all things, it grows—grows faster. hands tangle in your hair, driving your head down to meet him halfway; you gag and choke and drool out the corners of your mouth, you dig and scratch with your nails, you savour quick inhales that are quickly consumed and leave you with even less air than before. 
the tip of your nose tickles the pubic hair at his pelvis as he holds your head steady at his base. the cut off of circulation has your eyes going spotty, but the lightheadedness just feels so so so good.
upon seeing the twitch in his brow and the rapid rise and fall of his chest, your breath hitches—he’s going to cum if you continue. whatever words you attempt to speak translates to vibration that makes his dick jump, so twice, you pat his arm. 
there’s a look of panic on his features, ignoring the mess left on his lower body and he releases you from his grasp. almost subconsciously, he pushes all traces of hair from your face, cupping you cheeks and forcing you to look at him, “did something happen? are you alright? was it too much—i’m sorry, love.”
“no.” you shake your head, moving from the position in front of him that made your knees ache and buckle. quietly, you turn your back to him, hazardly pressing your body into his desk while your hands tease up the back of your thighs, dragging the dress’s fabric along with it. “just want you to cum inside, it doesn’t feel as good when you don’t.”
symphonies ring through his head: eren is sure he’s won at life—and he’s going to be selfish with it. you’re his freedom—your pussy is his national anthem, not the fucking two minute song that rings monotonely in his mind after hearing it. he can’t rip his eyes away when your dress climbs up and over your ass; it exposes your thong and it’s  practically swallowed by the folds of your pussy, which leaves a damp spot right near its entrance. 
“oh, eren…” you sigh in relief at the feeling of your hand fumbling to pull your panties to the side for your husband to see just how wet you get on the mere thought of him. your fingers are met with no friction as you slowly rub your clit, nails clacking against each other and you spread the slick that coats your cunt. 
you pull away from yourself with a string connecting your fingers to your pussy, all before giving it a few love taps once more. “‘s all yours.”
it’s all his…what a fucking lucky man. your scent has commanding control over him, clinging to his body and moving him towards you like a puppeteer and he’s the woodwork. hands rounding over the fat of your ass, he makes quick work of pulling your thong off one leg and letting it pool at your ankle. he’s not afraid to admit it: eren jaeger will die for this pussy—his wife’s pussy.
he makes quick work of you, slotting his dick within your folds, fucking himself up against your clit a few times before convening at your hole. he sheaths himself inch by inch, reveling in the soul snatching grip you welcome him with. the pulsation of your spongy walls almost bites at him—cause a stuttered moan to fall from him as he bottoms out into you.
“fuck!” you squeal at the feeling of his tip budding up against your cervix. frantically, you try to inch forward to build some space between you two. 
“nuh-uh, no fucking running,” he sucks his teeth, digging his dull nails in your hips to keep you flush against his body, “take it whole, didn’t i teach you better than that?”
“mm—mhm!” baring your eyes shut, you allow your upper body to relax into the glass surface of the desk while he finds his rhythm. but you’re at a loss for words, mouth hanging open as he drags out to the hilt and buries himself back in until he’s trying to bypass your ass. his repeated strokes strikes against the soft spot at the roof of your cunt, “you’re going so fast.”
“am i—shit—am i supposed to go slow?” he asks knowingly, to which you frantically shake your head no to. had he gone any second slower, you’d be throwing a damn fit, whining about his talking too much time in teasing you and throwing yourself back into his hips instead. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”
each thrust drags out more of the milky white slick that forms a nasty ring around the base of his cock. “r-ren, you’re kissin’ me…” you whine, wiggling and writhing as you feel him reach your cervix—‘n it hurts, hurts real good and eren knows you don’t want him to stop. 
your sobs fog up the glass below, and with tear stained eyes you turn your head to look back at your husband. his pace falters when he locks your gaze—it’s hazy and pretty, your once neat waterline is now smudged against your lower eyelids, and your plump lips are in a pout to suppress what would be breathy moans to quick whimpers—all which reach his dick just the same. 
eren wastes no time grabbing a hold of your leg and hoisting it up to meet your torso on the table. the new angle gives him leeway to hit deeper—rub against his favourite spot that has you seeing stars.
“fuck, yeah—p-please eren.” you’re babbling incoherently, eyes gluing shut to give yourself some peace of mind as you shift your hips backwards to meet him halfway, “give it to me, jus’ like that!” 
oh, shit. 
your eagerness messes up his pace, making him curse at the feeling of his cock slipping out of you and instead slipping up against your neglected clit.
“c’mon…put it back in.” you’re whining, rubbing your cunt all over him like the neediest thing he’s ever seen—but you’re so molded to eren; there is undoubtedly nothing else in the world that makes you feel better than the way he does.
“calm down, be patient.” his voice is smooth—firm. it pulls you down into a sense of docility; security. it almost makes you forget how you’re being defiled on the desk where he earns a living so you can wear the pearls on your neck. “you’re so good to me.” he’s mumbling, fucking himself through your folds. 
you can hear the sounds of your juices mixing, and eren giving a low groan before bottoming back into your sweet pussy that welcomes him back like a man once at war.
“baby…gonna—i’m gonna cum.” you shake your head at the inevitable—you’re already whimpering and your legs are buckling under the pressurizing buildup in your bottom torso. 
and eren? he would never deny you of anything you wanted—in fact, he loves when you cum; your body goes rigid and develops an ironclad grip on him, and your mouth hangs open in the most obscene, yet pretty, way. so he encourages you, coaxes you on by keeping steady, hitting harder. 
“f-fuckfuckfuck—fuck!” when your hand shoots down to rub and fuss and your clit, you’re done for. 
eren’s strokes don’t stop when you do. instead, he lets you ride out your high right on his dick—and you…your walls are fluttering around him. uncontrolled sobs leave your mouth as you grip onto the table for some sort of stability, “that’s it.” 
“you feel good?” he asks, moving your leg from the tabling and bringing you up to meet his body. 
your mind is so gone, you can only mirror the words of your husband, “mhm—feels good.” 
his hands grab your waist, pulling you down into the chair with him. there’s little time for you to process your surroundings before eren’s got your back flush against him, arms hooked around the back of your legs, bringing them back towards your chest. 
“you can take a little more for me, right?” he huffs, blindly navigating himself back into your hole before receiving extra aid from your fucked out self. 
truth be told, you’d take anything for eren—even when you’re crying from the sheer overstimulation you feel as he sloppily bounces you on his cock. you can only pray he cums quick, all before you truly start to get messy in his place of work. 
“give it to me ‘ren.” moaning sweetly, your hands make their way to the nape of his neck and tug at the hair found in your fist, “c’mon—give me what i came here for.” 
and eren…he doesn’t like to keep you waiting. 
“fuck—you’re just the most spoiled thing aren’t you?” he moans—truly, he knows there is no one to blame but himself. and when you give him pussy this good, what else can he do?
your heeled feet clack together as eren fucks up into you with little regard for decency. his breathing is erratic, either heavy or almost laboured and still. your name is stuck on his lips—rolling around on his tongue like candy—he says it like a chant, rambling on about how only you can get him like this. shallow groans and grunts as he stills in your cunt—making sure you feel every rope of him by keeping you right on him despite your squirms.
“feel full?”
you scoff playfully, moving from your position once eren lets you, only to see a coy grin settling on his face. he’s not expecting an answer—especially when you return his smile while tugging your dress back down your legs. his eyes follow your movements, watching as you gather the picnic basket, keys to your pink porsche, and lace thong within your hands before making your way back to him.
slotting the underwear into the pocket of his blazer jacket, you whisper, “you’d better be home early, mr. jaeger.”
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linopls · 8 months
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birthday boys
jisung x fem!reader x felix, college!au
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summary: to celebrate your boyfriend and roommates birthday, you all play a fun drinking game which reveals something about your boyfriend. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, alcohol, threesome, unprotected (wrap it before u tap it pls), voyeurism/exhibitism, cuckolding (kinda?), oral (male receiving 2x), a little degradation, a lot of praising 2.9k words (i got a little carried away.)
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you started dating jisung about a year ago, you met in your anatomy class freshman year of college. while jisung needed it for his major, you were taking it as one of your science electives which meant you had no idea what you were doing. while paired together for a lab, jisung saw your struggles and offered to help you study. once the semester ended, you and jisung continued to hang out and started dating.
jisung met felix shortly after you, the two became inseparable very quickly. after freshman year, felix decided he no longer wanted to dorm on campus and found an apartment and asked if you and jisung would like to take the second bedroom. 
you never had any complaints about rooming with jisung and felix. they were the nicest roommates you could ever ask for. they always did their laundry, never left dirty dishes in the sink, and always kept the fridge stocked with plenty of food. 
however you have found one issue about being friends with them, their birthdays followed each other. this meant that one week every year you would spend a fortune making sure to spoil your amazing and kind friends.
remembering an article you read, that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, this year you decided to recruit the help of jisung’s freshman roommate, minho, in preparing them the most amazing home cooked meal they could imagine. buying the most expensive ribs you could find, splurging on an expensive custom cake that was half each of their favorite flavors, and spending more on alcohol than you do your utilities. 
you also invited some of their other friends, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin, but they know nothing about cooking and they brought board games and more alcohol for the nine of you to enjoy.
“its 6:15, where are they?” you wonder aloud.
“when have any of them ever been on time,” minho says, taking his apron off and setting it on the island.
you check your phone again for any missed texts from any of the boys and check the clock again to make sure your phone clock isn’t wrong.
“they’re nursing students doing clinicals, they will never be off on time,” minho says, pulling up one of the island chairs to sit in.
you sigh and set your head on his shoulder. “i should know that.”
“you should,” minho says, patting your back softly. “but me and you will never understand the life of not clocking out exactly at-”
the sound of the door opening interrupts minho’s thoughts and the familiar sound of jisung and felix’s laugh relaxes yours. jisung, felix, chan, and jeongin come in through the front door.
“something smells amazing!” felix says trying to catch a glimpse of the feast behind you and minho.
“you don’t get to eat until you open all your gifts!” you exclaim running to grab their presents from the living room.
with everyone’s gifts in their hands, changbin, hyunjin, and seungmin follow behind you. the present piles are dropped in front of the two boys and they  rip through their gifts, skim the cards, and say their thank you's before grabbing plates and filling them like they hadn’t been fed in years.
after the feast, the crowd gathers in the living room with their bottles and glasses of alcohol. while you try to sit down after doing a little head count, you notice jisung is missing. that’s when you hear a small whisper:
“y/n, y/n!” jisung calls from down the hall. “come here.”
you set down your wine glass on the coffee table, before saying a quick ‘i’ll be back’ to the boys.
before you can even ask what jisung wants, he pulls you into a warm hug and a deep kiss. his arms wrap around your lower back and his soft lips push against yours. one of your favorite quirks about jisung is that you can always feel is slight smile whenever he kisses you. you’ve never told him, he would probably die of embarrassment. 
you pull away first and set your forehead against his, “happy birthday, baby.”
“you are literally the best girlfriend i could ever ask for, do you know that?” 
“i’ve been told a couple times,” you giggle. “come on, let's go celebrate with all your friends!”
“can we celebrate, the two of us, later maybe?” jisung asks, wiggling his eyebrows and grabbing your hands.
“of course,” you blush. “i have a special surprise for you later.”
-
after watching half a movie, the group decides to play one of the board games that was brought. 
“i found this game wandering through target and thought it would be fun,” seungmin says, pulling out a card game labeled ‘truth or drink’.
after explaining the rules and everyone refilling their drinks, we begin. a couple rounds go through, people are spilling their biggest secrets or slowly working their drinks to be empty again.
“y/n, its your turn,” hyunjin reminds you.
you pull a card and read it aloud. “if you had a threesome with three people in the room, who would it be and why?”
the room is silent for a second as you think if you want to answer it or drink. jisung interrupts the silence by adjusting the way he is sitting and clearing his throat. 
“what will be be, y/nnie?” minho asks, trying to hold back laughter.
“well i think i have to pick jisung as one.” 
“you’d HAVE to?” jisung gasps, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.
“oh zip it,” you snap. “and i guess, felix? it would be easiest to arrange our schedules that way.”
felix’s eyes go wide and cheeks flush red.
“you think too logically,” jeongin laughs before drawing a card for his turn.
the rest of the night finishes without any issues, except changbin spilling his drink once. the rest of the boys uber or walk home around 3AM and you, jisung, and felix head into your bedrooms for a good night’s rest.
before you can even shut your door, jisung is kissing at your neck like a ravished vampire. you melt into his touch and turn to face him. he pushes his body against yours and gently snakes his hand behind your head before pushing you back into the door. you slide your hands underneath his shirt and he separates your kiss only to discard it and throw it to the floor. 
with jisung’s open chest on display, you start to kiss down his jawline and onto his collarbone leaving small marks along the way. jisung gasps softly at everytime you bite down on his soft skin.
“baby,” he says between small moans. “i have a question.”
“mhm,” you reply, still working on leaving marks on his chest.
“that threesome question.” he says and you stop and look up at him. his eyes shiny and filled with lust and his face flushed pink. “i know we never talked about it before, but would you want to?” he asks shyly.
you fully stand and cup your hands around his round cheek and think. “i’ve never thought about it before,” you say, pressing a kiss to his nose. “maybe, yeah sure, why not? it sounds intriguing .”
jisung makes a noise you could only describe as a small whimper. “would you want to…” he trails off.
“what baby? talk to me.”
“would you want to right now? like with felix? like you said?”
you’re stunned and jisung realizes. “i’m sorry for saying anything, we don’t have to, it was just an idea. we can go back-”
“yeah get him in here.”
“what?”
it’s not like you never noticed how attractive felix was. when he stretches his arms above his head and you catch a glimpse at his abs. when he’s concentrated on his games and his tongue peaks out between his beautiful and plush lips. when you talk to him early in the mornings and his voice is raspy and deeper than usual.
“what do you want to do with him?”
“y/n, are you serious?” jisung asks, snapping out of whatever whimpering-lust-haze he was in.
“yes, i am serious, jisung. what do you want to do with him?”
“i don’t want to do anything with him.”
“what do-”
“i want to watch.”
heat rushes to your core, butterflies fill your stomach, and you might have started to drool. the idea of being watched while having sex wasn’t something you ever thought you’d enjoy. but something about your boyfriend wanting to watch you have sex with another man, in front of him, felt so bad that it felt right. 
after kissing you one last time, jisung leaves the room. you start to panic and wonder if this was a bad idea. you turn to look in your vanity mirror and remember your special surprise you had for jisung and think about how it can be used for the two boys.
felix and jisung come into the room and you can feel the atmosphere become more tense.
jisung speaks first. “i explained it to him, he’s okay with it. we’ve already agreed if anyone is uncomfortable at any point, we stop and this never happened.”
“okay.” is all your able to say, you can feel your body being filled with nerves.
“y/n?” felix says. his voice is soothing, and knowing what is about to happen between you both makes him saying your name almost, sexy. 
“i’m ready.” you say.
jisung walks over to you first and begins to kiss you with a level of passion you never knew he had. he kisses up your jawline and whispers into your ear. “i love you baby.”
this gives you the confidence you did not know you had, or maybe its the alcohol. “both of you sit on the bed, please.” you ask softly. they both comply, looking at each other with excitement in their eyes. 
you very slowly, and very seductively, slide your pants down your legs. you look up to jisung for approval and he just smiles like a child about to indulge in his favorite candy. you then look over at felix who has his tongue poking through his luscious lips, staring at your legs.
your surprise is still hidden, until you slide your (jisung’s) oversized shirt off and over your head. jisung’s eyes widen and felix covers his crotch with his hands. you had never worn lingerie in your life, but decided to treat jisung, and now felix, for their birthdays. you picked out jisung’s favorite color, red, and made sure to get something that would accentuate your curves. 
“jesus baby,” jisung sighs. “you’re fucking gorgeous.”
“thank you. but tonights not about me, it's about you two.” 
you walk over to felix and place a hand on his cheek. “can i kiss you?” you ask, leaning down to be eye level with him. 
he nods and you kiss those soft plush lips you’ve wanted to kiss for months. you hear jisung moan slightly in the background, watching you makeout with his best friend in front of him is like porn he could never imagine. felix hesitantly kisses you back.
his lips are soft, softer than they look. after kissing him for a minute you can feel him gain more confidence in this whole scene but he doesn’t move his hands. you pull away slowly and look him in his eyes. they have the same shiny and lust filled look that jisung’s get, which reassures you slightly. 
“can i sit on your lap?” you ask.
felix nods quickly and moves his hands from covering his crotch to being placed softly on your hips. when you fully sit down, you feel the bulge in his pants pressed up against your clothed core. the sensation of straddling another man while your boyfriend watches sends a shiver down your spine. 
as you begin to kiss felix again, you feel the weight of the mattress shift and jisung’s body behind yours. he starts to kiss at your shoulder and up your neck. this causes you to moan loudly. jisung laughs slightly before his presences disappears from behind you and you hear your vanity chair being moved. you can only assume that jisung has moved it and sat in it to watch the show going on in his bed.
you start to kiss felix more passionately, slipping your tongue into his mouth and sliding your hands up and down his chest. you bite down on his bottom lip, releasing a low groan from him, before pulling away and start to pull his shirt off his body. you must stare at his abs a little too long before he grabs your chin and pulls you back into a kiss. 
you gently push felix back onto the bed, and start to kiss down his chest and stomach, leaving red marks and bruises on his perfectly soft skin. you hear his breath hitch in his throat as you make it to the waistband of his pajama pants. you stop kissing his skin to look up at him. 
“can i?” you ask.
“please, y/n.” he groans while lifting his hips to help you remove his pants.
you’re mouth waters at the sight of felix’s cock springing free from the confines of his pants. felix sighs of relief as slowly wrap one of your hands around the base. you slowly lick a stripe following the pulsing vein on the bottom of his cock to the head and pull off. you look up to see he’s propped himself up on his elbows and eyes are closed in pleasure. you take another long lick and stop at his red and angry tip, you place a kiss on the tip and start to go back down to the base.
before you can reach the base, felix slides his hand into your hair and pulls your head back to the top of his cock. “please don’t tease, y/n.” 
you smile and readjust your position to take his cock down your throat. you take every inch painfully slow, you hear felix’s breathing start to get heavier and hear movement from jisung behind you. you feel tears swelling up in your eyes as you start to fully take him in your mouth and you have to stop and pull off before you reach the base.
felix moves his hand from your hair and wipes the spit off your mouth. “it’s okay baby, i know i’m a little bigger than sungie,” he laughs.
“shut up or your out!” jisung says throwing your shirt (you think) at felix.
“my fault, my fault.” felix looks down at you again. “are you okay, love? do you want to do something else?”
you could cum on the spot. the way he’s so kind and gentle while doing something so extremely erotic sends new feelings to your core. 
“i’m okay, you can be a little rougher if you want,” you say, placing your mouth back on the tip of his cock.
“are you sure?” he asks, slowly gathering your hair into a ponytail with his hand.
“mhm,” you say, mouth full of his cock. 
felix slowly pushes you down on his cock, stopping when he feels your throat close and pulling back out again. he does the same thing a little quicker before asking again if you're ready. when you give him the go ahead, he starts again, slowly but accelerates his pace quickly. as he begins to fuck your face, you can feel your mind start to go blank. you move your hands to rest on his hips and out of the corner of your eye you can see jisung move to sit next to him.
jisung’s shirt is off and he’s palming himself through his pants with his left hand and with his right he moves a strand of hair that fell out of felix’s makeshift ponytail behind your ear.
“look at our pretty little slut letting you use her mouth like that,” jisung says as he starts to undo his belt. the comment makes both you and felix moan and felix starts to fuck your mouth even faster.
tears are streaming down your face and you're digging your nails so hard into felix’s thighs you might draw blood. you look over at your boyfriend to see his slowly jerking himself off to the erotic sight of his girlfriend being face-fucked by his best friend. 
felix’s thrust slowly start to become more erratic and you can tell he’s about to finish soon. you start to moan and hum around his cock to bring him to the feeling quicker. 
“i’m g-gonna cum, where? where?” felix groans.
“in her mouth, she’ll swallow it all,” jisung says matter-of-factly and he begins to fuck into his hand faster.
“jesus christ, fuck,” felix moans loudly as his hips sputter out of control. “i’m cumming.” felix thrusts one more time, deep and hard, down your throat before finishing with a guttural groan.
“don’t swallow,” jisung commands as felix slowly pulls his softening cock out of your mouth. jisung slowly stands up and pulls your head to be face to face with his cock.
“open,” he says, grabbing your mouth. the sight of felix’s cum sitting on your tongue is enough to make jisung finish all over your tongue. “now swallow.”
you swallow their mixed seed with a moan and without jisung having to ask, you open your mouth to show them both. felix groans and lets himself fall back onto the bed and jisung cups your face in his hands.
“good girl.” he smiles. “will you let felix and me take care of you now?"
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got highkey carried away so if you want a pt 2 lmk!!
UPDATE PT 2 IS HERE
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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year
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Imagine being sacrificed to be eaten by some giant eldritch monster by your village due to being human and him just deciding you'll be the mother to his half breed babies and gently picking you up while carrying your face infront of the village who sacrificed you and the mosnter treating you as if you were glass and assuring how good of a dad he'll be
Yay more eldritch beasts! ^_^'
Eldritch beast (Castor) x female reader
Word Count: 1.5k
W: sfw monster fluff, some breeding talk
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“Hurry up!” the mayor of your town snarled as he dragged you behind him. 
“Please! Please don’t do this!” you howled as the sacrificial altar that had been newly built at the base of the mountain came into view. 
You tugged and pulled, trying to get away, but your hands were tied and they’d thrown a loop of rope around your neck, choking you whenever you pulled too hard. 
“Stop sniveling, (Y/N),” he snapped, “you’re a hero! Show some pride! Your sacrifice will bring prosperity to the village. We’ll raise a statue in your honor!” 
You didn’t want a statue, you wanted to go home and for your town to stop all this nonsense. Since they’d had a bad year, the crops failing and winter coming far sooner than they expected, somehow they’d gotten it into their heads that a sacrifice to the mountain spirit would bring them good fortune. Of course, you knew it was all superstition, but the rest of the town agreed with the mayor. Being the only dissenter at the meeting they’d held to announce their plan, you were chosen to be the sacrifice. 
Tears leaked down your cheeks as you were tightly strapped to the stone altar while the rest of your town gathered around to watch. 
The mayor cleared his throat and stood in front of you facing the mountain. 
“Oh great mountain spirit we come to you with this humble offering! We see the error of our ways and present to you the fairest maiden from our village as penance for our mistakes! We honor you with this gift of flesh…” 
His speech went on and on, full of apologies, lies, and pleas for a good harvest.
– 
Castor’s ears perked as he made his way through the woods on his usual hunting route. He hardly paid attention to the village at the base of his mountain, humans were annoying and noisy so he avoided them at all costs, but this time there was an odd scent on the wind. It was a sweet scent. A scent he quite liked. He crept down the mountain on his many thick tentacles and peered through the trees to find an odd sight. 
The townspeople were all assembled at some strange stone table they’d erected. His eyes focused on you, strapped to the table, while a man stood over you squawking about something or another. He blinked at you, examining you from afar with his excellent eyesight, assisted by his many eyes. 
He usually didn’t bother in human affairs, but as he sniffed the air he discovered it was you that smelled so nice. What were the silly humans doing to you? When the stocky man yelling into the forest pulled out a bejeweled blade and waved it at you he found himself barrelling through the trees, flattening them as his bulk plowed through. He couldn’t let them hurt you!
The mayor’s eyes grew huge as he took in the massive beast looming over you, his large teeth bared and shining claws raised, and he froze where he stood.
“STOP!” Castor boomed in an ethereal and very deep voice that shook the leaves on the trees and made the mayor drop his sword with a clang. 
While the rest of your town trembled and watched, he turned his attention to you, your cheeks streaked with glittering tears. You were so incredibly frightened your scream was caught in your throat and you only let out a miserable whimper. 
The beast examining you was massive, moving on a tangle of thick tentacles. His torso was like a man’s but with a large mouth filled with dripping teeth in the center. There was no mouth on his face, only ten eyes blinking down at you with a look that might be…gentle? 
You found yourself a bit stunned and confused, searching his eyes as he studied you.
“Oh great mountain spirit!” your mayor broke in with a shaky voice, “p-please accept this sacrifice of fresh, beautiful meat to sate your hunger and soothe your anger! Bring us a good harvest and spare us game for our hunt!” 
Castor almost laughed. Sate his hunger? Bring a good harvest? He had no idea what the man was talking about. As you had suspected, Castor had nothing to do with the weather or the harvest. He simply lived in the mountain because it was a nice home away from humans. 
The last thing he wanted to do was eat you. You looked so pretty lying there, your hair fanned out around your face. He drifted closer to you, exploring you with his sensitive tentacles. Your skin was soft and smooth, feeling quite nice when he touched it and you smelled incredible. Like a mate. Your town watched eagerly with anticipation. They were sure if he killed you and ate you all of their problems would be solved. 
You felt his curious tentacles wind their way around your limbs, the little suckers exploring and tasting as they moved. Though your heart pounded in your chest, he didn’t seem to want to eat you. For one, his large gaping mouth was closed and his eyes were examining you very carefully…but not like food. His look was a different kind of hunger. 
“You’ll make a pretty wife, little human,” he said with incredible softness. 
“W-what?” you heard yourself squeak. 
He didn’t answer, but very gently snapped the straps holding you to the table and lifted you up into his two clawed arms, cradling you like you were fine china. 
“She’s for me?” he asked the mayor, still curious what exactly the town had been planning to do with you. 
“P-please! Gorge yourself on her tender flesh and gift us your favor!” the mayor went on. 
Castor opened his big mouth and laughed heartily, making everyone in the area tremble. 
“Foolish humans,” he boomed, “I have no interest in your petty problems, but I will accept your offering. Best of luck!” 
With a chuckle he hurried off into the woods, with you tucked in his arms, much faster than anyone could follow, leaving the townsfolk staring after him, their mouths agape. 
You peered up at him from around his biceps. 
“Y-you’re not going to improve the harvest?” you asked. 
“I’m not a god, that’s not within my power,” he snorted, “but I am very happy with their sacrifice.” 
He booped you on the nose with one of his claws and you blinked. 
“Th-then what are you going to do with me?” you questioned. 
A huge smile appeared on his large mouth, exposing his jagged, shiny teeth. 
“I’m going to make you my mate and fill you with my babies,” he explained. 
Your face blanched and he frowned. 
“Don’t be frightened,” he said, a tentacle stroking your head reassuringly, “I’ll take the very best care of you and be very gentle. You are my precious darling. I’m going to dress you in the warmest furs and keep you nice and cozy in my den. While those silly humans starve, scraping around in the dirt, I’m going to make you perfectly plump with the tenderest cuts of meat and the ripest fruits.” 
You considered the monster carrying you. He wasn’t exactly handsome in a normal human way, but he did smell nice, a bit like pine and moss, and his tentacles were very gentle. You certainly were in no danger if he was protecting you and being fed by a skilled hunter sounded much better than starving in your village. 
“O-okay,” you murmured as another tentacle lightly pinched your cheek, “my name’s (Y/N), what’s your name?” 
“Castor,” he said, preening with your interest in him. 
“I-I’m flattered you chose me,” you started, “but I’m not sure I’ll make a good mother to your babies.” 
A snort escaped his lips and the random tentacles he had wound around your limbs squeezed you just slightly. 
“You are sweet and small,” he assured you, “you’ll make a wonderful mother and I’m very responsible. I’ll help you through it. You won’t be alone. We’ll raise our children together…one big happy family.” 
While he carried you up the mountain, the snow started to fall silently around you signaling that winter had truly started and as you chatted with him about his life you felt yourself grow more and more relaxed in his warm arms. Finally, the adrenaline from the events of the day draining from you, you drifted off to sleep. When you woke up again, your new life would begin. 
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moonkissedvisions · 2 months
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Pick an image tarot reading: Your natural gifts 🎀🍓🧁
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Important: 16+. This is a general tarot card reading. Take what resonates and leave the rest. Tarot readings are not meant to be a replacement for any professional advice. I use the Rider-Waite deck. Take a deep breath, think about the theme/question of the reading and pick an image. Let your intuition guide you and HAVE FUN!
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🎀 First picture
cards: 6 of Cups, King of Pentacles, 5 of Swords.
🎀 Multitalented
🎀 Inner child
🎀Generosity
🎀 Compassion
🎀 Playfulness
🎀 Creating a beautiful atmosphere
🎀 Cooking
🎀 Decorating
🎀 Jewelry
🎀 Retailer
🎀 Drawing
🎀 Painting
🎀 Collecting
🎀 Servicial
🎀 Money
🎀 Finances
🎀 Comedy
🎀 Working with kids
🎀 Poetry
🎀 Charity
🎀 Imagination
🎀 Instruments
🎀 Memory
🎀 Discipline
🎀 Self control
🎀 Material world
🎀 Counseling
🎀 Security
🎀 Self esteem
🎀 Humility
🎀 Crafting
🎀 Asking questions
🎀 History
🎀 Adaptation
🎀 Inspiring
🎀 Fashion
🎀 Philosophy
🎀 Speech
🎀 Abundance
🎀 Nourishing
🎀 Assertiveness
🎀 Therapy
additional notes: you may be childlike and/or have a baby face. you are forever young. you are outgoing. you like presents. you like learning about the past/your ancestors. you may have melancholic and nostalgic thoughts and emotions. you have a lot of energy. you are caring. you like a bit of destruction and mess (whatever that means for you). you may like wearing adornments. you may have an abundance mindset. people may feel comfortable and happy around you. you may have a hard time letting go of stuff. you may like self-care. Leave a 🎀 if you picked this reading!
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🍓 Second picture
cards: The Devil, The Lovers, Wheel of Fortune.
🍓 You could be a 6 in numerology, since you got both 6 life path number cards (The Lovers VI, The Devil XV). 6 may be a significant number to you, or you embody 6 number codes and energy.
🍓 Strong sexual and personal magnetism
🍓 Attracting people
🍓 Sensuality
🍓 Dealing with taboo and dark themes
🍓 Loving
🍓 Generous
🍓 Business
🍓 Tempting
🍓 Unmasking the truth
🍓 Strong intuition
🍓 Designing
🍓 Passionate
🍓 Psychology
🍓 Making love
🍓 Holistic medicine
🍓 Dominance
🍓 Beauty
🍓 Decision-making
🍓 Devoted/devotion
🍓 Romance
🍓 Surrender
🍓 Acceptance
🍓 Wisdom
🍓 Good luck
🍓 Deep understanding
🍓 Manifesting
🍓 Communication
🍓 Effortless persona
🍓 Relationships
🍓 Good lover
🍓 Family oriented
🍓 Artistic
🍓 Beautiful
🍓 Considerate
🍓 Appreciative
🍓 Magic
🍓 Aware
🍓 Psychic
🍓 Occult/hidden
additional notes: you may be considered sexy or conventionally attractive. people are curious about you. people tell you their secrets. you go through a lot of changes in your life/identity. you may be multi-talented like the first pic people. you are considered an open-minded person but at the same time you may be a conventional/traditional or conservative person. you like having a healthy lifestyle. you may not like sharing many stuff about yourself and that could make you a mysterious person. you like witchy stuff/ are open about witchcraft. you may get obsessed easily. you may have a lot of secrets. you may have to deal with self-pity. Leave a 🍓 if you picked this reading!
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🧁 Third picture
cards: King of Swords, Strength, Justice.
🧁 Compassion
🧁 Determination
🧁 Integrity
🧁 Power of thoughts
🧁 Power of the unconscious
🧁 Focus
🧁 Respect for life, its cycles and the natural order
🧁 Caring
🧁 Harmonious
🧁 Patience
🧁 Control
🧁 Veterinary
🧁 Taming
🧁 Problem solving
🧁 Wildness
🧁 Royalty
🧁 Law
🧁 Sharpness
🧁 Command
🧁 Good balance of feminine and masculine energies. ☯️ There is an overall balance in you.
🧁 Judge
🧁 Popular
🧁 Honesty
🧁 Impartiality
🧁 Rationality
🧁 Incredible logic
🧁Intellectual
🧁 Unbiased
🧁 Fatherly
🧁 Authority
🧁 Intelligent
🧁 Discernment
🧁 Writing
🧁 Sense of justice
🧁 Giving and gaining respect
🧁 Political/good at politics
🧁 Hierarchy
🧁 Leader
additional notes: you may be a control freak. you deal with emotions harmoniously but you could also seem cold or may dislike emotionality. you are deeply spiritual though. you may be or come across as judgemental to some people but you have a fair judgement. people come to you for advice and help because of your perspectives. you sense when things aren't right or something is unfair. you may love animals and nature. maybe you have a lot of pets or you fight for animal rights. you may be bookish. you like power/feeling powerful and strong and being in high positions. you may have a clean style or like neatness. Leave a 🧁 if you picked this reading!
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Thank you for reading my post! I hope you loved it.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
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hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him
Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want
English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well
have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐
The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]
Willy Wonka x gn!reader
word count: 1.8k
note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.
You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.
“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.
And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.
So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.
The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.
Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.
Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.
“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”
“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.
Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.
“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”
He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.
“Hi,” he murmured shyly.
"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."
“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”
With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.
You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.
“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.
It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.
“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.
“What are you doing?”
“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”
“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”
He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.
“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.
"Come with me"
He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.
“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."
“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”
He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.
“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.
“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.
Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.
“Wow, I…”
"Do you like it? I made it myself”
“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"
He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.
"It looks pretty"
“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”
With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.
He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:
“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”
Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.
“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."
It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.
“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"
“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”
“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.
Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.
“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.
Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.
So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.
When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.
A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.
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ooksaidthelibrarian · 2 years
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There were jugglers and acrobats and firebreathers, and vendors selling all kinds of foods to be eaten while walking around. Children were already running around, yelling excitedly and admiring the performer's tricks. The adults were no less excited, just a little more quiet about it.
Carrick and Rhys go to watch a show, and then make their own entertainment.
Sugar and Spice
Fortune Presents Gifts Chapter 12
Fandom: Witcher/Shadowrun
OC-centric
Rating: E
Words: 6230
Read it on AO3
0 notes
ellecdc · 3 months
Text
Come Back, Be Here (finale)
Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.7k
p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8
CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N
A/N: Holy. Friggen. Crap. WHAT A RIDE! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story with me - it has truly felt like the most niche book club and I have had so much fun chatting with you all. Feel free to send in requests for these lovely characters in the CBBH universe - I'd love to continue playing with them! xx
Lily and James Potter returned to 12 Grimmauld place on the 3rd of November – Sirius’ birthday. There were long hugs, a lot of tears and soft dinner conversation, but there would be no gifts or raucous celebrating. 
Regulus Black was arrested at Malfoy Manor as a marked Death Eater, but with the backing of James, Sirius and Dumbledore, the Ministry allowed Regulus to be placed on house arrest, confiscating his wand whilst he awaited trial. Dumbledore assured the group that because of Regulus’ defection, his support of the Order, and the memories that Dumbledore, you, and those who were present on October 31st provided the Ministry, Regulus would likely be acquitted of his charges, or at the very least receive a lighter sentence. 
Tom Riddle was quickly charged with treason, tyranny, countless charges of the use of unforgiveables, countless charges of leading or causing the death of wizards, witches, and muggles, countless charges of torture and brutality, eliciting fear and chaos, and illegal use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss and the act was carried out on the 5th of November. 
Peter Pettigrew did indeed receive a fair trial for his role in the Wizarding War. He was questioned under Veritaserum, and it was found that he was guilty of treason, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, the use of Dark Magic, and sexual assault and brutality. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.
Lucius Malfoy came looking for his son and was thus arrested by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the charge of being a marked Death Eater. He was questioned under Veritaserum which proved Lucius was guilty of harboring dangerous criminals, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, and the use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His property and vault at Gringott’s were seized by the Ministry and, after taking what was owed for reparations, was placed into his son’s name. 
The Ministry respected Narcissa Malfoy’s dying wish and placed Draco Malfoy in the care of Sirius Black and Y/N L/N. The Ministry offered the couple access to the Malfoy vault to support Draco’s upbringing, but they opted to leave it aside for the child to choose what to do with the fortune when he was of age.
Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral took place on the 7th of November. The blustery November air accosted the patrons which mostly consisted of Order members and a few of Narcissa’s friends who were able to dodge persecution for their roles or complacency in the war. She was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously for her role - a title she now shared with you, Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, and later Regulus along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco left his mother a beautiful bouquet of narcissus, baby’s breath, lavender, and pink camelia’s. You and Sirius gave her a bouquet of edelweiss, fern, and gladioli. Blue hydrangeas and hyssops came from Regulus who was unable to attend due to the nature of his house arrest but were placed at Narcissa’s headstone by Lily and Harry in the family plot of Malfoy Manor. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks stood by you, Sirius, and Draco at the headstone during the funeral service as Dumbledore spoke of the bravery, loyalty, and dedication Narcissa showed not only to her son and her family, but to the greater wizarding world on the 31st of October. 
“There is not one witch or wizard amongst us today that does not owe Narcissa Black Malfoy a considerable debt. Without her bravery and cunningness, evil could very well have prospered, dooming us all to life of immense pain and suffering. She dreamed of a legacy - of a better future - for her own son as well as for every child of wizard kind. Narcissa was a beyond bright student during her time at Hogwarts, a strong leader in her social circle, a skilled healer during the war, and an incredibly brave soldier. Though, possibly her favourite and certainly her greatest role was that of a loving mother; for she died to ensure that her son would live to see a better tomorrow. Narcissa Black Malfoy is the type of person, friend, partner, and parent that each of us should aspire to be. May her legacy of love and loyalty live eternally.” He said as he raised his wand.
One by one, every person present raised their wand to the heavens in honour of Narcissa Malfoy and her sacrifice to the wizarding world. Draco, Harry and Nymphadora, along with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom who did not yet have their own wands raised a narcissus flower in solidarity.
The remaining marauders, you, Lily, and Regulus did indeed stay at 12 Grimmauld place for some time. The house was unrecognizable from the time Regulus and Sirius spent growing up there; it was bright, it was colourful, it was full of children’s laughter and squealing, it was a place people liked to come to visit, and it was chock full of love. 
The problem with the new and improved Grimmauld Place? 
Your tribe quickly outgrew it. 
As time went on, your memories seemed to return to you basically in full, and the full extent of your trauma reared its ugly head. For years you became hyper-focused on knowing where each member of your family was at any given moment, and a panic attack threatened any moment you didn’t have everyone important to you within your periphery. The Third Worst Day™ of Sirius’ life (in chronological order, the first being the day he almost ruined things between you two, the next being the day you ‘died’) was the day Lily and James suggested to you, him, Remus, and Regulus that they should perhaps fix up Potter Manor and move their ever-growing family there. It was partly the worst day because of how the idea of James and Lily moving away made him feel, but it was mostly because of the mental breakdown you had at the news. 
“You can’t! You can’t do this! I just got you back, we just got each other back. You can’t do this!” You shouted as everyone tried to get you to breathe. The numerous hands approaching you placatingly was in fact not what you needed at the moment, and you fell into a manic state.
Needless to say, the suggestion was not met well by you, and ended with you being admitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. Sirius sat at your bedside with your hand in his, Lily and James in chairs across from him whilst Regulus and Remus stayed home and watched the children. 
“I cannot live without any of you anymore. I’m sorry, but I refuse. I can’t do it.” Sirius admitted quietly to his friends as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.
You had been dosed heavily with calming draught and dreamless sleep in order to prevent any seizure activity, which you became plagued with due to the trauma of the brain from memory retention and prevention throughout the war. 
“I can’t either.” James admitted, causing Lily to turn and face him.
“I’m sorry Lil’s, I know-” he cut himself off to take a steadying breath. “I know when we got married, you probably imagined us living at the Manor or maybe in another place as independent adults. After we lost mum and dad, I’m sure you imagined us taking that over in their place, and I think I wanted that too, but now, knowing what we know, I would have done things differently. I wish we had moved in with mum and dad and been there to enjoy their last few years with them. We had our own flat at the time and Moony, Pads, and Vix had theirs and I was so lucky that I got to spend as much time with Vixen as I did, being her order partner and all, but then she was gone, and I regretted ever spending a single moment away from her. Now...now I’m afraid that every second I don’t spend with you – all of you, any of you, my family – is a second wasted and I don’t want to waste another precious second. Not anymore. Not ever again.” 
Lily looked imploringly at her husband.
“You really are a bell-end.” She muttered fondly.
“Pardon me?”
“Do you really think I imagined us living alone in that big ass manor just us and our kids? What part of that do you think appeals to me? I love you, James, but a girl needs backup to deal with the likes of you.” 
Sirius and James exchanged a bemused glance before Lily continued.
“I want to live the rest of my life with my family. That’s you, James, and our kids, but it’s also Sirius and Y/N, it’s Remus and Regulus and Draco. Hell, if Alice and Frank or Marlene and Dorcas told me they wanted to move in I’d happily help them pack the boxes.” She laughed as she looked at you and Sirius’ intertwined hands.
“I think we’re all going to be stuck with one another until the end of time.” James said as he pulled his wife into his side.
Sirius smiled greatly at them. “Until all the mischief is managed.”
After that, the friends all agreed that none of them were willing to part from the group, and if for whatever reason anyone felt the need for more privacy, they would opt to build an outbuilding on the property.
“Oi! You’ve gotta knock, Prongs! Fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius had shouted as he hastily pulled the sheets up around the two of you.
“Uhm, maybe you’ve gotta lock the door, Pads.” James muttered with a mouthful of muffin as he came in to sit on the edge of the bed, completely unperturbed by the fact that the two of you were still naked and very recently involved in unmentionable deeds. 
Nevertheless, no one ever felt the need to build their own place on the property.
And Sirius made sure James got a taste of his own medicine a time or two after that incident.
Lily Evans Potter did indeed contact Healer Grundke at the end of the war and was brought on to work under her as an intern whilst she worked toward getting her Healer license. She spent many years in general medicine before moving fulltime to labour and delivery. Sirius often teased her that between the number of days she has spent in labour & delivery as a patient and as a doctor, he was surprised any of their other friends ever saw her. 
His nose was charmed green for a week.
Regulus Black was eventually acquitted of his crimes. He was placed on a sort of life-long probation in the form of a tracking spell on his wand that would alert the Ministry of him ever practicing Dark Magic. He opted to stay with his brother and his friends though he pretended to hate every minute of it. In truth, Regulus found great joy in being an uncle to Sirius’ and James’ children and Godfather to his best friend’s daughter Luna Lovegood. He declined the opportunity to join the Wizengamot, stating that as the rightful heir to the Black name, Sirius should be the one to take the Black’s seat.
Sirius Black, in Sirius Black fashion, dramatically refuted this idea. He did not want to pick up the mantle that was laid for him by the generations of Black’s before him; he refused to sit in the nearly still warm seat that his father had left. It took Regulus, Remus, and Lily all to tell him how much good he could do by not only bringing in a younger generation’s perspective to the Wizengamot, but as a wealthy heir to a pureblood line, a war hero, and an advocate for werewolf and muggleborn rights, he could bridge the gap between the left and right-wing members of the court.
It also helped that you had told him he’d be the only one capable of making the robes look punk rock. 
James Potter opted to be a stay-at-home dad and uncle to care for the children living at Potter Manor. The Potter vaults had enough money in them to last his family multiple lifetimes without every making a dent, and with the money Lily was making as a healer, there was no need to be worried financially. Also, being a kid at heart made him the absolute best friend of any child who met him. As the children grew older, he and Mrs. Weasley worked together to homeschool the children of the Order until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.
Remus Lupin, never one willing to ride on his friend’s coat tails, spent the first few months following the war applying to various jobs through out Wizarding London. He had hoped that between his stellar academic record, his time spent as a prefect and tutor, his Order of Merlin, and his dedication to the winning side of the Wizarding War, that he would be able to secure a job within wizarding society. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world still had a long way to go with the prejudice it held for werewolves. Walking through Diagon Alley feeling sorry for himself, Remus spotted a “for lease” sign in the window of what used to be a pet store. He immediately sent an owl to the landlord and asked for a meeting. 
Though Remus tried to refuse, Sirius and James insisted on investing in Remus’ planned bookstore.
“I’m not borrowing money, Prongs.” Remus muttered defiantly.
“It’s not borrowing, Moons! It’s an investment! If anything, you’ll be making me more money.” He exclaimed excitedly.
“Moony, please,” Sirius added...well, seriously, “think of how pissed off my ancestors would be to know I’m investing their money in a half-blood werewolf’s business which happens to stock muggle literature?” 
With a mischievous smirk, the deal was settled, and the lease was signed. 
Remus wasted no time to get started at the bookstore. He walked into the small storefront and conjured a broom, deciding to start by sweeping up the hay and owl droppings.
No sooner had he started did he hear the door chime. 
“Oh! My apologies, we’re not quite open yet.” Remus offered as he made his way to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Regulus standing in the entry.
“I should hope not. This place looks awful.” Regulus commented with a wrinkled nose.
You elbowed him hard in the ribs.
“Looks like you could use some help.” You said cheerily as you held out a stack of papers. Remus took them gently to find your CV and cover letter. Before Remus could even look up, Regulus dropped his on top of yours in Remus’ hand.
“All my references are either dead or in prison so.” He offered with a shrug.
“I’ll vouch for him.” You said.
You were smiling at him so kindly and so sweetly, Remus wanted to cry. You had always been his biggest supporter; championing him through every milestone in Remus’ life. He was certain he didn’t deserve even half of the love you gave him, but he was eternally grateful for every drop of it.
“Thank you, guys.” Remus said wetly as he pulled the two of you in for a hug. Regulus groaned the entire time but when Remus finally pulled away, he had a slight blush. 
“Yeah, yeah. Well, what is family for?” He muttered which elicited a sharp gasp from you and a bark of laugh from Remus.
“Don’t be going soft on us now, Black!” Remus said with a laugh and ruffled his hair. 
“Fuck you guys, clean this barn up on your own.” He grumbled as he turned to leave, but the two of you wouldn’t let him.
He was grateful that you didn’t. 
Sirius eventually proposed to you – though beg was likely a more appropriate definition.
“We should get married.” He had said to you late one night as he came back to the bedroom after putting Draco down. 
You lowered your book into your lap as you considered him. “I beg your pardon?”
“We should get married.” He repeated plainly.
Your lip threatened to quirk into a smirk, but you kept your face blank. “And why should we get married?”
Sirius guffawed at you. “Uhm, maybe because we’re in love? And I’m the best and would be the best husband?”
You continued to stare at him.
“Why shouldn’t we get married?” He asked, now beginning to panic.
“I never said we shouldn’t.”
“Then why won’t you marry me?” He shrilled as he moved to kneel at the end of the bed.
“You’re the first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning and my last thought at night before I fall asleep. Fuck, you make up the majority of my dreams too. Did you know that? Did you know that I go to the Ministry and count down the minutes until I get to see you again? Did you know that when you’re at work, I spend my time thinking about what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, what they’re saying to you and you to them? And not in a stalkery way, I swear. But I just think you’re the coolest fucking person ever and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to listen to you speak when I’m stuck at home or at work. And I watch you with Draco -our sweet boy - and our Godson and the other children and I get fucking giddy thinking that I get to spend the rest of my days with a woman so lovely. So, marry me. Marry me, damnit!”
It was a battle to keep your face straight but by the absolute grace of God you did before saying “Siri, babe, you’re coming off a little desperate.”
There was a brief pause before you got a “you cheeky little minx” and 45 seconds of tickling which turned into kissing which turned into touching which turned into so much more.
You were sticky and satisfied as you both caught your breath, still intertwined with one another when you said, “I will.”
“Hm?”
“I will.” You repeated as you leaned onto your elbow so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ll marry you. Marry me.”
Sirius stared at you in awe before pulling you down into his embrace for a searing kiss which once again turned into so much more. 
And you guys did. Marry each other, that is. It was a beautiful spring day on the grounds of Potter Manor with only your closest family and friends. It was perhaps a touch smaller than what either you or Sirius grew up picturing your wedding to be, but it was so much better than either of you could have ever imagined.
“...I thank my lucky stars every day that I get to love such a wonderful woman. There’s not one person in this world who deserves to know the likes of you, me least of all, but will do everything I can to ensure I get to keep what little light you’re willing to share with me forever. I have already loved you in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, and in life and in death. There is not one planet in any universe, nor a timeline that exists where my love for you does not. I vow to you that you will never spend a day in this life not being loved by me. Wherever you go, I go; in this life and the next.” Sirius said through his tears. 
With a smile you began your own vows. “Sirius, I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to witness you become the man you are today. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but I have seen you through it all; the good, the bad, the really bad, and the ugly. And I have loved you through all of it. As I laid dying, I told James that I didn’t regret a single moment of this life with you, and that is still true today. Every moment, all the blood, sweat, and tears, brought us here today - and I would still do all of it again if it meant getting to stand here today by your side. I made a vow that I would find you in our next life and I would love you there too. Well, here I am. I found you. I will always find you.”
Lily, Marlene, and Alice stood by your side, and James, Remus, and Regulus stood by Sirius’ as your magic was bound together, and you were pronounced husband and wife.
Sirius hung the framed parchment that Remus had found in the wooded area where he first met Regulus in his office. The note symbolized your dedication to him, to your friends and family, and your unyielding perseverance. The parchment was later joined by your wedding pictures, drawings that he and Harry had painted back in Grimmauld place as well as pictures Harry and Draco had given him since, and the first ever check he received for his investment in A Marauder’s Map to Books. 
You loved working at Moony’s bookstore; everyday felt like getting to hang out with your best friends even though you pretty much lived with them as well. It was nice to see Remus and Regulus in a setting outside of the parental/guardian role you’d all taken on following the war. You were surprised at first (though you supposed you should have known better) that Remus and Regulus worked really well together – Regulus’ uptight and serious façade was well balanced with Remus’ laidback and jovial personality. Regulus would handle the more difficult customers whilst Remus made sure every customer who came in felt welcome. Things often fell by the wayside or got overlooked when Remus was away due to the moons, and Regulus was quick to pick up the slack. Regulus would often get too caught up in work and forget to stay fed or hydrated, which Remus counteracted by briskly walking past Regulus and placing biscuits and cups of tea brewed exactly to Regulus’ liking before he could refuse. If you noticed Regulus’ cheeks tinge peak and a shy smile grace his lips – you didn’t mention it. 
Draco grew to be a very happy child; you and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride every time that boy giggled or laughed. You kept your word and left the Malfoy vaults untouched save twice a year when Narcissa would purchase a gift for Draco on June 5th and December 25th. 
He was such a good son and an even better big brother. 
Draco was the most jealous of Harry when Harry became a big brother to his sister Jasmine Potter. It was hard not to chuckle at how proud the four-and-a-half-year-old was as he bragged about being the ‘bestest big brother’ and watching Draco skulk around the house. 
“I could be a big brother! Really, I could. I’d be so nice and gentle, and I would share all my toys!” He told you and Sirius solemnly as you tucked him in to bed. You assured him he would indeed be a wonderful big brother, but not to worry about it too much as you were sure Lily and James could use two big brothers for their newest addition. 
You both gave him kisses goodnight and closed the door behind you. You’d hardly made it two steps from the door before your husband had you pushed up against the wall. 
“I could be a really good daddy too, you know?” He whispered into your neck before starting to suck on your pulse point.
You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. “Are you trying to tell me something?” 
Sirius kissed his way back up your jaw before slotting his lips against yours. “Perhaps we should give the kid what he wants.” He managed between kisses.
You chuckled.
“He gets everything he wants already, Siri.” You whispered back as you pulled his body flush with yours.
“What about me, hm?”
You pulled your head back to search his face. “Do you want another baby, Sirius?”
Sirius’ pupils seemed to blow wide at the sentiment. “I don’t so much want a baby as I want your baby, my love.” He whispered reverently.
Your restraint snapped and you launched yourself at him. He caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.  
Approximately ten months later you gave birth to your daughter Aurora Black.
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September 1st, Kings Cross Station
“Merlin’s saggy balls, how do you – for fuck sa– oh, got it!” Sirius could be heard behind you as he fought with the pram. 
“Would you watch your mouth?” Lily muttered.
“Yeah Pads, watch your fuckin’ mouth!” James loudly announced causing other parents to look over at the absolute freak show that was the Potter & Black family’s stepping onto Platform 9 ¾.
“Sorry.” You offered with a quiet smile to a particularly perturbed looking couple as they grabbed their smarmy looking child and ushered him away from the likes of you. “Wankers.” You muttered as they hobbled off.
“Who’s a wanker, mum?” Draco asked as he slid up beside you. The rotten child knew he wasn’t supposed to use such language but couldn’t pass the chance at getting to repeat your nasty comment.
“Presently, it’s you.” You commented while teasingly narrowing your eyes at him. 
“Oi, leave your poor mum alone! You’re buggering off to Hogwarts and leaving her with the likes of me for the next ten months.” Sirius said as he (finally) made his way to you with the pram in tow. The three-year-old twins seemed none the wiser that they just nearly got folded into the damned thing and thrown onto the tracks in a fit of rage. 
“My deepest condolences during this trying time.” Draco offered you severely.
Sirius scoffed and you laughed as you pulled him into an embrace. You were waiting for the day he pushed you away because hugging your mom goodbye in front of your friends was embarrassing. But today, you relished in the feeling of your first child letting you hold him tight.
“I’m so proud of you, Draco.” You murmured into his platinum hair.
“Thank you, mum.” He responded quietly. 
“Draco! Harry! Over here!” The sound of Hermione Granger interrupted your hug as Draco turned to wave at his friends. 
“Be good kid, okay? Look out for your sister?” Sirius asked as he pulled Draco into his own embrace.
“’Course, dad. I’m not new here.” He teased as he ruffled Aurora’s hair.
“Draaaccoooo...” She whined in response.
“Go see ‘Mione.” You ordered Draco with one last side hug. Harry and Draco swapped parents and siblings to give their respective goodbyes before heading off to catch up with their friends. 
“Are you ready, Rory?” Jasmine Potter asked your daughter kindly. She was a year above Aurora and was very excited to get the chance to show her younger cousin around the castle. 
Your daughter looked between her cousin and her parents before Sirius spoke up. “Jazz, do you mind giving us a minute?” He asked his Goddaughter.  
Jasmine turned to talk to James and Lily who were busy entertaining Posie and Lyra as you and Sirius bent down to talk to Aurora.
“What’s on your mind, love?” You asked your daughter gently.
Your heart welled as Aurora’s eyes turned glassy.
“I’m not ready.”
Sirius made a cooing sound as he wiped the tears from under her lash line. “What are you most worried about, my little star?”
Aurora sniffled miserably. “What if I’m sorted into the wrong house?”
You and Sirius couldn’t help but rear your head at the comment. Out of all the things you thought would be worrying your daughter on her first day of boarding school, which house she got sorted into was not it.
“Rory, that’s the exciting part baby.” You tried as you rubbed her arm consolingly.
“I get it, Ro, I was worried about which house I was going to be sorted into as well.” Sirius commented.
Aurora rubbed a fist against her eye as she turned to consider her father. “Really?”
Sirius nodded solemnly. “Really. You see, I came from a long line of proud Slytherins. I was supposed to get sorted into that house too, because I was supposed to be just like them. But I couldn’t be like them, I could only be like me. So, I was sorted in Gryffindor, even though my family didn’t like it.” 
“Did you get in trouble?”
Sirius nodded sadly. “I did.”
“But Ro, you know that no matter what house you get sorted into, me and daddy are going to be so, so, so proud of you. And we’ll be proud of you because you’re you, not because you were sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Slytherin.” You added with a soft smile.
Aurora seemed to consider this. “Well, Harry and Jazzy are in Gryffindor, and Draco is in Slytherin. I’d like to be in one of those I think.”
You nodded at her, but it was Sirius who answered.
“That’d be pretty cool, huh? But listen, I met the most fantastic people in my house even though I knew no one in it when I first got sorted. Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony were my dormmates for seven years and look at us now! Completely co-dependent and still living together.”
“What is co-dependent?” Aurora asked with furrowed brows.
“Not important. What I’m trying to say is, Rory, you are going to give that hat a run for its money, you know why?” Sirius asked.
Aurora shook her head.
“Because you are your mother’s daughter. And she is the the most loyal, the most cunning, the bravest and the smartest person I know. You’ve been raised by the most spectacular person, and any one of those houses will be lucky to have you. Got it?”
You watched as Rory took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before offering her dad a solid nod.
“Atta girl!” He said as he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her head. “You show that sorting hat who’s boss.” 
Aurora chuckled as she moved to hug you.
“I’m so proud of you, my love.” You said into her hair. She tightened her hold on you before letting go and stepping back.
“I think we’re ready for you, Jazzy.” You called, and the older girl came and took Aurora’s hand as they headed towards Draco and Harry to board the train.
James and Sirius wolf whistled and hollered, waving frantically as they watched the kids walk away. Hermione, Harry and Draco chuckled while Neville and Ron turned beat red at the attention.
You propped Lyra on your hip and the two of you continued to wave as the train pulled away. None of you stopped waving until you couldn’t see your babies anymore.
A sob tore its way through James, and you looked over to see Lily making alarmed eye contact with you as she awkwardly patted his arm and he and Sirius leaned into each other.
“First time?” An older woman asked as she went to walk past you.
“No” was yours and Lily’s chorused response as you peeled your husband away from his best mate and moved him toward the pram where your youngest two sat forgotten. 
“Lord, is it going to be this bad every time we send one of the kids off the first time?”
“It’ll be worse!” Sirius cried emphatically as he fell into your arms, basically crushing poor Lyra who was still sat on your hip. You looked over to Lily hoping for help only to see her in a similar predicament. 
“Sirius Black, at this rate our youngest three won’t ever want to come back to Kings Cross Station.” You muttered as you moved Lyra to your other hip so you could support your husband’s weight.
“Good! Then they’ll never leave me!” 
Your heart twinged as you patted Sirius’ back.
“Siri, look at me.” 
For a moment you thought he might refuse, but he unfolded himself slowly and stood to look at you. 
“This is what we fought for, my love.” You said as you caressed his cheek. “So that our babies could go to Hogwarts and learn and be children and be free and be safe.”
“I still hate it.”
You laughed at his petulance. “Me too, actually. Do you think Hogwarts is hiring? What if we all just move there?”
“Great idea, Vix!” James cheered from beside you, eyes rimmed and cheeks glistening. “Lily flower could work in the infirmary, Padfoot could teach astronomy, you could teach muggle studies, I could teach flying, Moony could teach defence against the dark arts and Regulus could teach potions! It’s perfect!”
Though you had to admit this plan of James’ actually sounded pretty perfect, your attention turned to little Posie falling asleep in Lily’s arms. 
“Why don’t we discuss this more once we get these kiddos down for a nap, hm?”
Sirius found you later sitting in the sunroom with a book in hand. He thought you made the prettiest picture sitting in the soft sun filtering through the leaves of the trees outside, plants surrounding you with your nose buried in a book. So, he took a picture. 
“I wasn’t ready!” You whined with a smile on your face.
“You’re always ready.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I was such a mess at the train station today.” He said as he lifted your legs off the loveseat to sit down and replace them atop his lap.
“You don’t have to apologize, Siri.” You said as you tapped him with your book. 
“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He commented, his gaze seemed far away as he watched the branches dance in the September breeze.
“You can do that tomorrow.” You whispered back.
A smile graced his face before he turned to look at you. “I love you; did you know? I don’t think I say it enough, but I do; I love you.”
He punctuated his sentence with three loving squeezes of the fat of your thigh.
“Sirius. Every breath I take means ‘I love you’.” You responded and sealed it with a kiss. 
You got an owl from Draco and Aurora later that night.
Aurora was a hat stall.
She was also sorted into the same house as her mum.
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trashywritestrash · 2 months
Text
Short and Sweet
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Word Count: 853
Warnings: Best friend’s brother— is that a warning? This is just a short lil thing for Valentine’s Day
A/N: The poem and response in this came from Thomas Richardson’s “Gentleman’s Valentine Writer” which wasn’t actually published until 1828 but I needed ideas, okay? Also, I wrote this when Bridgerton was still the lead in the poll lol
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Living beside the Bridgerton household had many advantages. Being close in age to Daphne gave you the perfect excuse to spend time with her. However, spending time with Daphne meant also spending time with the rest of her family, which allowed you to form a close bond with them all. One Bridgerton in particular being Benedict.
Benedict was a few years older than you, but within a perfectly reasonable range that made it acceptable for you to fancy him. How could you not? He was sweet and sensitive, but he had a playful side that brought joy any time you were fortunate enough to witness it. Although, you never dared to dream that Benedict might return your affections. You were the best friend of his younger sister, surely he would not think of you in that way.
Initially, you had been excited to be presented before the queen and sent out into society. But while Daphne had been deemed the season's incomparable, you had fallen into her shadow. You were happy to see your friend receive many visitors and gifts, but some days it would hurt to see a line of men outside her door while you waited in an empty sitting room.
Waking on Valentine's Day brought nothing but sorrow. It was only one month into the social season and you already felt that you were destined to become an old spinster. With no prospective husbands in sight, you would likely have to face a second season. You did not expect that you would receive any callers that day, yet you waited in your sitting room in a fine dress, as you did every other day. Your mother sat in a chair at the far end of the room, leisurely reading until something would happen.
Early into the day, your butler entered the room with a calling card in hand, "A Mister Bridgerton is here to call upon Miss Y/L/N."
"Send him in," You replied, feeling your chest constrict. It was possible that one of Daphne's brothers had come to pass along a message for her, but a gentleman visiting while you were accepting callers still brought you a shred of hope.
Moments later, you saw Benedict step through the doorway, holding something behind his back. He smiled, "I see I have gotten here before the rest."
You returned his smile, nervous, yet calmed by his presence. "I think you will find that the gentlemen are coming to your door today, not mine."
"Then they are fools and I am lucky to have you all to myself."
"What can I do for you, Benedict? I find it hard to believe you would be here as a suitor." You spoke the words in jest, but felt your throat tighten as you said them all the same.
Benedict's smile fell into confusion, "What is so hard to believe about that?"
Taken aback by the genuine confusion in his tone, you clarified, "I only mean to say that I would not have expected it."
"If that is the case, I hope that you find this to be a good surprise," For just a moment, you heard a bit of nerves in his voice as he tried to present a confident image. "Unfortunately, I cannot stay long. But I wanted to bring you these and to officially declare my affection."
Finally, Benedict moved the hand behind his back to reveal a beautiful bouquet of morning glory and myrtle. You smiled wide at the sight, "Thank you, Benedict. They're lovely."
Shortly after, Benedict had to take his leave, although he promised to come back the following day. Once he had left, you reached for a book on the language of flowers. You found that morning glories are used to represent affection, meanwhile myrtle is used to represent love and marriage. Learning that brought a blush to your cheeks, finding the meaning to be a little bold, but not unpleasant.
It was then that you noticed a small folded piece of parchment beside the flowers. When you unfolded the paper, you could see the painted design done in watercolors. A man and a woman stood beneath a tree, which was situated between a lovely cottage and a church. The image was small, but you could tell that the couple was you and Benedict. On the other side of the parchment was a simple note.
I boast not eloquence, dear Miss, Nor do I write exceedingly fine; Therefore, I bluntly ask you this-- Pray, will you be my Valentine?
As you looked down at the note, you felt your heart swell. You held it close to your chest, feeling as if you could burst from happiness at any moment. Your mother then looked up from her book. "What is that, dear?"
"It is nothing!" You responded quickly. Luckily, your mother did not push the issue further.
That night, you folded the note once more and placed it in the drawer of the nightstand beside your bed. As you attempted to fall asleep, all you could think of was that you could not wait to see Benedict again.
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creamsickle-writes · 10 months
Text
Waiting in the Wings: Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
Tags: nsfw, ModernAU, friends to lovers, oral (specifically face sitting), penetrative sex, creampie, and dirty talk
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You felt humiliated.
Your stupid date just had to ditch you right before your night out. You had gotten all dressed up and put your makeup on; you even did your hair a particular way, only for him to say he couldn’t make it an hour before the outing.
This was so stupid.
You kept repeating that to yourself over and over as you scrubbed off your makeup, tied your hair back, and changed out of that lovely dress you were wearing.
This was frustrating; you didn’t even like the guy that much, yet he thought he could stand you up? You knew you could do much better and still decided to accept his date proposal anyway.
As you settled into your pajamas and were looking for takeout to supplement the nice dinner you were supposed to have, your phone rang. Your eyes focused on the name at the top.
Ace
Ace was your best friend. He always had been, and, honestly, you really wished you were going out with him instead. 
But you didn’t want to mess up your relationship, so you’ve been trying to find someone else. 
It felt weird going to him about relationship stuff, but you were trying to push past that feeling; you had to start treating him like a friend, not a potential partner. So, you decided to vent to him like a friend would. You quickly wiped away the tears you didn’t realize had started to form.
You answered the phone with the camera tilted towards your bed frame and the wall above it. You could see his video feed, though; he was lying in bed too, only the upper half of his face showing, his eyes wide with excitement.
“You’ll never guess what I found at-” He stopped himself before asking, “Hey, what are you doing in bed? Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for that date?”
“Not anymore,” You sighed, “The guy canceled on me.”
Ace blinked a few times before angling the camera downwards so it showed his whole face, his face screwed up in a confused expression, “What? Did he say why?”
You shook your head, “He just suddenly said something came up. Didn’t even bother saying he wanted to reschedule for another date or anything-“
Ace clicked his tongue, “That’s rude-“
You hummed and nodded slowly, agreeing with him. 
And you made the mistake of sniffling. 
Ace sat up at the sound, furrowing his brow, “Are you crying?”
Despite your embarrassment, you angled the camera down so he could see your puffy red eyes and wet cheeks, “Just a little..”
Silence hung in the air for a moment.
“Hey, tell you what,” Ace said after a while, “Let’s hang out tonight, okay? You, me, and some pizza. Sound cool?”
You nodded and spoke up, your voice wavering, “Thanks, Ace. You always know just what to say.”
He laughed a bit, “Hey, what are buds for, right?”
Your heart broke at those words.
Buds. Friends. Pals.
He always used those words to describe you guys.
It was clear he would never feel anything more for you. 
The thought made you feel conflicted; Sure, you had him as a great friend- Look at what he was doing now, buying you dinner and giving you a shoulder to cry on, but you wanted more than this, and the fact that you knew it would never be more only made you more upset.
But you wouldn’t think about that now; you decided that, for the moment, you should just be grateful that he’s in your life at all.
 “I’ll be over with the pizza in half an hour, okay?”
“Okay.”
_____
Ace eventually knocks at your door, and you answer, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants. Your eyes are still a bit swollen, but fortunately, your tears are no longer flowing.
Ace smiles a bit, “Hey, sorry about your date. Buttttt…”
He presents the pizza with a flourish, “Ta-da.”
You laugh a bit at his gift and showy display. 
“Thanks, just put it on the table.”
Ace takes the familiar route to your living room and places the pizza on the coffee table in front of the couch. He plops on the sofa and leans back, placing his hat on the table.
“So, how you holding up?” Ace asks, looking up at you as you sit on the other end of the couch, leaving space between you both.
“I’m alright,” You sigh, leaning back into the couch cushions.
He raises an eyebrow, some silence occupying the room before he speaks, “It’s okay to not be okay, you know…”
Your lips form a thin line as you think his words over. He was right; if there was anyone you could talk about this with, it was him. Tentatively, you begin to speak.
“I know, it’s just…” you sigh again, “You know this isn’t the first time someone I was supposed to meet canceled on me…”
He nods, his words apologetic, “Yeah, I know…”
“And it’s not even like I really liked him that much or anything, so I’m not really crying over him.” You start, annoyance and frustration in your voice.
Ace nods in understanding.
 “I’m just starting to think that, I don’t know, maybe there’s something wrong with me? Maybe they think I’m boring to talk to over text?” You shake your head and look down at your hands on your lap, “Or maybe they look at my photos again and realize I’m really ugly…”
Ace clears his throat, and you look up at him. 
“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re boring… or ugly at all.”
You smile softly, your heart racing, “Thanks, Ace…”
Ace smiles, and you notice his eyes comb through the room, looking for a way to change the topic. When his eyes land on the remote, his face lights up.
“Here,” Ace picks up the remote, “Let’s throw something on to take your mind off it. Trashy reality TV always takes people’s minds off their problems, right?”
You snort, “What?”
He shrugs lightheartedly, “I don’t know, I just know people eat this stuff up! Let’s throw on something that looks really bad for fun.”
You giggle as he turns on the TV, navigating to your favorite streaming app. He hums as he scrolls through the menus, eventually settling on something that looks absolutely horrible.
It’s perfect.
You kind of pay attention for the first fifteen or twenty minutes, but you and Ace are talking over the whole thing, commenting on the contestants and the stupid plot of the show. Eventually, your combined commentary goes off track when one of the male contestants says something a bit too forward to another. You momentarily tear your eyes from the television to give a snide remark.
“God, these people act like they’ve never had sex before,” You snort, “It’s the first day, and they’re already trying to fuck each other.”
Ace snickers along with you, his eyes still glued to the tv, “I mean, maybe they hadn’t gotten laid in a while?”
“I’ve been going months without dick, and you don’t see me acting up- “
That catches his attention.
He turns his head towards you and blinks a few times as if surprised, “Wait, you’re serious? It’s been months?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“Damn,” Ace says, something unreadable in his expression, “I mean, was the last time at least good?”
Your face heats up, “Uh, well, he didn’t go down on me and lasted, like, two minutes, so…”
Ace looks shocked, stunned even at your confession, “He didn’t eat you out? Like, at all?”
You feel your body grow hot, and you shake your head. You never thought you would talk to Ace about your sexual encounters with other people like this. 
Ace chuckles before speaking, “Goddamn, if I was in bed with you, I would’ve eaten the fuck out of that-“
His face immediately goes bright red, “I-I mean, with a girl like you, not you!”
“U-Uh, right-” You cough awkwardly.
He abruptly stops talking, and the only sound in the room is of some women arguing on television. Ace looks away from you and tries to get back into the show. But as you turn to look back at the television, you occasionally peek at him from the corner of your eye. Ace is shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and you can tell he’s embarrassed about what he just said.
Under normal circumstances, you’d drop the subject, but after tonight, after dealing with shitty guy after shitty guy, you weren’t going to let the man you actually wanted get away.
 “I mean, I wouldn’t be mad if you wanted to do it with me.”
That gets Ace’s attention.
“Huh?”
“W-Well,” You clear your throat, “The way you said it, it sounded like you wanted to do it with me, so I figured I’d, uh, offer… Let you know I’d be up for it.”
Ace turns, offering you his full attention now, “N-No, that’s not right. You’re all messed up about this dating thing. I’d be such a piece of shit to take advantage of-”
Your ears twitch at his phrasing. It sounds like he really did want you. You weren’t going to back off now, not when what you’ve fantasized about for so long was within reach.
Suddenly, in an act of boldness, you begin to crawl toward the dark-haired man. He backs up until his lower back hits the couch’s armrest. He gulps as he looks down at you, his face turning a soft shade of pink.
“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me…” 
“You’re not… thinking straight…” he swallows thickly, strictly keeping his hands at his sides.
“Ace,” You start, your lips moving on their own before your brain can catch up or stop you, “I’ve always wanted you… I just didn’t want to mess up everything..”
Ace’s eyes bulge as wide as saucers as he looks down at you, your confession continuing, “I started going on stupid dating apps and stuff to try and get over my crush on you but, fuck, it just isn’t working. None of those guys compare to you.”
You crawl even closer, moving so that your lips are dangerously close to his, “I still just want you… A-And I know I avoided saying all this because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but I can’t keep pretending like… like I’m not in love with you.”
Your face feels hot as you realize you have confessed your love for him. You’re terrified that you’ve scared him off, that maybe he only wanted to hook up with you casually or as a one-time thing to satisfy his curiosity. 
But you know he feels the same as you do when he closes the gap without another word.
Your lips press against each other’s, and a gasp escapes you as he snakes his hands over your hips, his warm palms resting comfortably on your body.
You sigh happily into his lips as he licks over your bottom lip, politely asking for permission to taste you. You part your lips and introduce your tongue to his, the wet appendages dancing. 
When he pulls away, he laughs softly, “You have no idea how long I wanted to do that…”
“You have no idea how long I dreamed of you doing that…”
“I guess we should make up for lost time then…”
He pulls you into his lap and kisses you again, his hands trailing over your ass and squeezing it firmly. You gasp at his boldness. As you two continue to kiss, you feel his cock hardening beneath you and blush softly at how excited he is for you. 
“Fuck, I-” He breathes shakily, “Can I be real for a second?”
“Go ahead,” You laugh, “Tell me what you’re thinking..”
Ace places his hands on your hips as he looks up at you, his face bright red. 
“I know we literally just confessed to each other, but, ah,” He stutters a bit, “I really wanna fuck you right now- And I know that’s not, like, romantic or anything, but I really wanna be inside you.”
You look back at him, your face burning hot at his honesty.
Before you can respond, he starts babbling, “Uh, but, y’know, it’s cool if you wanna take things slow! We can just pretend I never said that and-”
You grab him by his shoulders and kiss him deeply. And as quickly as the two of you come together, you part. 
“Did you forget how this all started?” You giggle before lowering your voice to a whisper, “I want you to fuck me.”
Ace smiles and captures your lips yet again. The kiss is passionate and maybe a bit sloppy, but you both have been yearning for each other’s touch for so long that it doesn’t matter. But as soon as things start to get a bit more heated, Ace pulls himself away.
“Oh shit, wait.” Ace curses, “I don’t have any condoms or anything on me-”
“Don’t worry about that,” You giggle, “I’m on birth control, so we’re good.”
“Oh, thank god,” He sighs in relief, but you can see the gears turning in his head before he speaks again, “Does that mean I can…?”
“Cum inside me?” You snort.
He blushes a vibrant red, “Y-Yeah.”
You smirk and lean forward, whispering in his ear, “Only if you promise to fill me up real nice…”
“Fuck,” He breathes shakily, “I promise. Hell, I’ll pinky promise-”
“I’ll hold you to it,” You grin, extending your pinky before he takes it with his own, sealing the deal.
You giggle before pressing a kiss to his lips, your kisses soon trailing down to his neck. You suck gently on the skin, surely leaving marks behind. 
Soon you’re tugging on the hem of his shirt, and he gets the message, pulling it over his head. With his torso newly exposed, you kiss and nip at his chest, sliding your tongue over his nipples just to see if they’re sensitive. He groans and calls your name so sweetly, making your heart swell with pride; he is so vocal and all just for you. After playing with his tender nipples for a bit, you decide to chart the rest of his body; after all, there is much more to explore. You eventually reach his stomach, your lips grazing over his dark happy trail. Ace bites his lip as your lips are mere centimeters away from his cock, the only thing separating your lips from his shaft being a few layers of clothing.
With eager fingers, you reach to unbutton his shorts. He lifts his hips so you can slide them down along with his underwear. His cock is dark red, precum leaking desperately from his tip. 
“Looks like you could use some attention, hm?” You giggle, wrapping a hand around him and stroking slowly. 
He reaches out a hand, stopping your movements, “No, wait-”
Your brows raise, and he continues, “This whole thing has been you taking care of me so far, and you said last time you had sex, he didn’t even go down on you, so let me take care of you…”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.” He grins, “Just take your clothes off and climb up here…”
Your face blushes at the implication, “You want me to sit on your face?”
His smile only widens, “Is that a problem?”
You shake your head and begin to peel your clothes off your body. Soon you’re before him, completely nude, just as he is. You notice his dick twitch as you crawl forward, and you laugh at how honest his body is.
With your hips positioned over his face, your pussy terribly close to his lips, you announce, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“You need to get lower, sweetheart.” Ace laughs, and your heart throbs at the nickname.
You lower yourself even further, but Ace doesn’t seem satisfied, “You’re still hovering. You gotta actually sit on my face-”
“Won’t it be hard to breathe..?”
“Hey, if I go out like this, I’ll die a happy man.” Ace chuckles before grabbing your hips, “So c’mon, just sit down, okay?”
You hesitate for a second, but after taking a deep breath, you sit on his face, your pussy pressed against his lips.
Ace groans loudly as you do so, immediately getting to work. He kisses your clit a few times before his tongue darts out, swiping over it. You jump a bit, lifting your hips off his face accidentally. You’re about to apologize and lower yourself back down, but Ace beats you to the punch, gripping your ass and forcing your cunt back onto his lips with a growl. He eats you out like a man possessed, slobbering all over your clit and sucking on it greedily. You were starting to think he asked to do this not just because he felt sympathetic but because he would enjoy it so much.
You sigh as you feel his tongue press penetrate your hole, the warm, flexible appendage feeling incredible inside you. Ace’s hands squeeze your ass, firmly keeping you in place despite how you squirm and squeal. You look down below as Ace has his eyes closed, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focuses on making you feel good. You bite your lip and reach up to squeeze your breasts, rocking your hips against his tongue.
He pulls his tongue out for a moment to murmur, “That’s it, baby, use my tongue however feels good…”
His voice is husky and deep, sending a shudder through you; his words of encouragement light up your core, and you’re bolder with your movements now, rocking your hips shamelessly. 
As Ace speeds up his pace, your legs begin to shake. He chuckles into your mound, moving his hands to your thighs as if to reassure you that everything is okay and that he wants you to just let go. 
“Ace…” You whine, “I-I’m so close.”
Your chest grows tight as you hold your breath, your hips speeding up to shoot yourself over the edge. Ace grips your thighs even tighter, trying to stay close to you. 
Soon you’re squealing as your orgasm washes over you, Ace still sucking and licking your clit as you ride the intense wave. Your toes curl, and your back arches as you wiggle your hips, trying to get as much friction as possible.
As the feelings of pleasure fade, you move down from his mouth, straddling his waist. You notice his cock is even flushed scarlet now, the angry-looking shaft throbbing and twitching like crazy. 
“That was so hot, you don’t even know.” He says, wiping his mouth clean with the back of his hand.
You giggle and reach down to stroke his cock, coaxing precum out of the swollen tip, “Was it as good as you thought it would be?”
“Hell yeah,” He smirks, “I’d eat your pussy all day if you’d let me-”
“Maybe another day, because now…” You hum, “Now it’s your turn to cum…”
Ace’s dark eyes sparkle and flicker with anticipation as you lay on your back, spreading your legs wide, “Come on and fill me up… Remember, you promised~”
Ace licks his lips as he hovers above you, one hand holding the base of his cock as the other supports his weight. He rubs his head over your sensitive clit a few times, his warm precum dribbling onto it.
When he pushes in, there’s hardly any resistance at all. Your pussy greedily sucks him in, clenching and squeezing around him tight. He groans and lowers his head, his dark curls falling in his face as he is lost in the initial penetration. 
“Start slow,” You laugh, “Like I said, it’s been a while.”
“Yeah,” He nods, “Don’t worry, I got you, sweetheart…”
He rocks his hips slowly, pulling almost all the way out before sliding back inside to the base each and every time. His movements are smooth, fluid, as he takes his time and focuses on being gentle.
You sigh happily as he makes you feel good. You can’t help but look between your legs and watch as his cock slides in and out of you. You like seeing his swollen cock leave, but you also love watching it plunge back inside. 
After a short while, you begin to grow antsy; this felt nice, but you wanted him to go faster, to fuck you harder.
“Ace…” You whine sweetly, and he practically reads your mind.
“You want me to speed things up?”
You nod, and he kisses you again before leaning back and lifting your hips, angling his thrusts so they hit your g-spot. His hips work faster now, his gaze glued to where your bodies repeatedly meet. You moan out his name, and your hands ball into fists as you’re overwhelmed by the pleasure.
Ace notices and leans forward, his face inches from yours as he teases you, “Am I fucking you right, baby? Do you feel good?”
You nod dumbly and reach for his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. 
“Aw, you gotta say it,” He coos, his confidence at an all-time high, “Say exactly how you feel, sweetheart.”
“It feels so good-” You gasp, “Please, don’t stop-!”
He licks his lips, and his voice rasps, “How can I say no when you beg so pretty, huh?”
Ace leans forward and kisses you deeply, your tongues sliding against each other as you moan together. Your hands find his dark hair and use it to pull him closer, wanting him to be as close as he possibly can be to you.
Your lips part, and Ace takes your legs, pushing them as far as they can go to make a complete mess of you. The new angle makes him hit deeper, your toes curling in delight. Your breathing becomes labored as he fucks into you hard; the rough, harsh thrusts will definitely bruise your insides, but it feels so good that you don’t even care. 
“Oh my god,” his voice drips with lust, “You’re squeezing me so tight. I can feel your pussy sucking me in; it feels so fucking good-”
You whimper as his thrusts jostle you, your nails digging into his back as you desperately try to ground yourself. He pounds into you like it’s the last time he’ll ever experience such pleasure, his eyes hooded as he watches you writhe and moan. 
His own sounds grow louder, his moans and whimpers filling the room as he fucks you. Each powerful thrust leaves you breathless, and with every desperate call of your name and curse that he utters, you feel your core lighting up even brighter.
Soon the pressure becomes unbearable.
“A-Ace, I’m gonna cum-” You gasp.
“I can feel it, baby,” he rasps out, “You’re so fucking close- you can do it-”
He grits his teeth and works himself in and out of you with renewed vigor as if your words were an enchantment. He huffs and moans shamelessly, his cock twitching and throbbing within you.
“Come on,” he urges, “Cum for me- cum all over my cock-!”
His pleas reach your ears, and it causes a glorious orgasm to emerge from within you. Stars dance across your vision as you let out a shaky moan, your juices coating his thick shaft.
He watches your face as he now focuses on chasing his high, his thrusts growing sloppy and erratic. He grunts, “Fuck, you’re so good- you’re gonna make me cum…!”
As soon as he says it, his hips still, and you feel him fill you up with his cum. He groans loudly as shot after shot fills your cunt, the sticky cream stuffing you full. Your legs quiver as he lowers them gently, keeping them spread as he slowly fucks his essence into you.
He lets out a shaky breath before pulling out, the cum leaking out of your hole despite his efforts to keep it inside. 
His eyes dart to your face before he grabs you, pulling you on top of him as he flops onto his back. Ace kisses you softly, his hands finding your hips and circling the flesh with his thumbs. 
He hums softly as he pulls away from your lips, “I love you…”
Your eyes widen in surprise and his in realization.
He quickly stumbles, “Uh- shit- sorry- that was probably too soon to say that-“
You smile, pressing a finger to his lips, “Don’t you remember? I already said that earlier.”
“You said you were in love with me, not that you loved me. I feel like that’s different-”
“Shut up, you’re overthinking it,” you laugh, “We both love each other, okay?”
Ace lets out a relieved sigh and hugs you tight, kissing your cheek. A soft giggle leaves your lips as you see how he stares at you with admiration and love. 
“But you know, if we both love each other,” he chuckles, “You’re gonna have to delete your profiles off those dating apps now.”
“Way ahead of you.”
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onlyswan · 1 year
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summary: in which music waters a wilting flower on a chilly autumn night and jungkook is stuck by the glue onto you.
> idol!jungkook x reader / strangers to lovers / fluff, slight angst / wc: 4.4k
> warnings: mentions of oc’s toxic ex bf, slutshaming, and alcohol
> in which masterlist!
note: the in which couple’s first encounter reveal?! has arrived with a bam cameo at the end <3 recommend reading the ‘first times’ in the masterlist next if you haven’t yet :D as always reblogs and/or feedback are appreciated 🥰 and yes. i love beabadoobee.
“sir, will you help me-“ you panic, eyes pleading for help as you look between the door and the owner of the music shop. “i think it’s stuck.”
“oh! of course, of course. i apologize about that.” the middle-aged man, quick to your aid, ducks out of the counter. “i ought to get this thing changed soon. spent a fortune on it but it’s not doing what it’s supposed to do.”
you copy his chuckle, watching him push up the still half-closed door before shoving it open to the side.
“thank you!” you politely bow your head before stepping out.
“come back again next time! i’ll give you a discount!”
“really? a discount? then i have no choice but to come back!” you whine playfully, smiling at the promise of saving money in the future. you present him another bow. “have a good night! close the door now, it’s cold.”
the 90’s love song playing inside becomes muffled when the transparent glass completely shuts out the outside world once again. instead, the lead vocalist’s voice is replaced by a golden and dulcet humming by a stranger.
you scan for the source of the sound, and at once, you discover it when you whip your head to the right. scrolling through his phone, he’s sitting at the far corner of the old wooden bench— the same boy who was paying at the counter when you stumbled into the store. unbeknownst to yourself, your heart skips a beat. you were transported to a field of flowers when you brushed past him, and you met his big brown eyes briefly when he turned to leave.
burdened by the heavy and uneven weight you’re carrying on your shoulders, you decide to rest on the other side of the bench while you wait for a taxi to pass by. you spare a glance at the oversaturated band posters on the off-white wall behind it before sitting down as their audience.
the humming ceases when he feels your presence beside him.
you cautiously set down the padded guitar bag on the ground, securing it in between your thighs, anxious of getting so much as a scratch on the precious instrument. it’s a dear friend’s birthday tomorrow, and you only found the time and the money to purchase her gift today.
you check your wrist watch. 10:13pm. you fell asleep in the library while studying for a test, and because of that, you’re probably going to be home at around midnight. this place is pretty far and secluded, but apparently it’s known for its good and rare finds. you went here with your friend two months ago just to window shop and one of their bass guitars caught her eye. naturally, you couldn’t resist. her birthday gift has to be this. for some reason, it just feels easier to spend money on your loved ones than yourself.
will you even manage to send a birthday message before you pass out to sleep again? god, you hope so.
you feel your empty stomach grumbling angrily, and you’re not sure if it makes a sound or if it’s all just in your muddled head. yup, you missed dinner, too.
“i’m so hungry.” you cry out quietly, resting your forehead on the neck of the guitar.
fine, maybe you subconsciously said it a little louder than quiet. it was a shot in the dark, curious if the stranger beside you would have any sort of reaction. you hope for a glance at most. he has beautiful eyes, ones you almost feel envious of.
“me too.“ the sulky response slips out of his mouth with an exhausted sigh.
the sound of his voice makes you perk up in pleasant surprise, gazing at him with an amused, tight-lipped smile. on the other hand, he stiffens from the realization of what he just did. he stops manspreading, straightening himself up and awkwardly clearing his throat.
“sorry… it was a reflex.”
“it’s okay.” you reassure him with a quick laugh.
you tear your eyes away from him, watching the moths frantically flying under the street lamps. it’s silent for a moment, except for the shop owner’s on-going playlist and the occassional singing of the abundant crickets.
you face him again with a flair of innocence.
“do you want a granola bar?”
he lifts his head to look at you, the screen’s light reflecting on his tan skin, and that grants you the ability to see his breathtaking eyes. there might’ve been countless instances when they hated how small this bench is, most likely a tight fit for three people, but right now, you wouldn’t have it in any other way.
“it’s just that… i’m going to eat it and it feels rude to eat alone knowing you’re hungry, too.”
his teeth sinks in lower lip, contemplating for a few beats before nodding his head. “yeah, sure. i’d like one. thank you.”
you bring out the tupperware from your messenger bag, unfastening the sides open and separating the lid. as your own wordless way of telling him that they’re not poisoned, you grab one first, taking a small bite, before offering the container to him.
“here you go.”
you stifle a cackle when he pulls down the sleeves of his black hoodie as if he’s preparing to eat a whole course meal. he’s so fucking cute, gentle and dainty while picking up the granola bar along with the parchment paper underneath it. that leaves you with three left. you set down the tupperware between the two of you, loosely putting the lid on top.
“huh?” he exclaims with big round eyes, hand hovering over his mouth as he chews. “did you make this?”
the question makes you wince nervously. he didn’t like it? you could’ve sworn it's the best batch you’ve made so far. “uhm, if it tastes good, then i did. if not-”
“no, no. i like it.” he giggles, waving his hand to shoo your worries. “it’s not too sweet, and it’s soft? how did you make it chewy?!”
“oh-” you breathe out a sigh, clutching your chest in relief. “i just follow a recipe i found online! my neighbor gives me honey like every week so i found a use for it.”
“well, it’s really good. thank you.” he gives you a kind smile, scrunching his nose before resuming to eat the snack you spent your sunday night preparing.
and it’s quiet again. you look the other way to hide the proud smile playing on your lips, the fluttering of your unguarded heart raging and stubborn. maybe if you put food in your mouth, you’ll stop talking… not.
“i’m ___.”
he swallows before replying, distinctive dimples near his mouth making an appearance. “i’m jungkook.”
jungkook. it suits him so well. it’s perfect.
“do you play the guitar?“ jungkook asks curiously, motioning at the instrument you’re holding.
“oh, no- i just got this for my friend’s birthday. she’s in a band.” you share with a chuckle. “what about you? what do you need those giant speakers for?”
“ahh, they are big, aren’t they?” he scrunches his nose, glancing at the two boxes beside his feet. “i just figured buying new speakers would motivate me to work on music more.”
“are you a singer?” you gasp dramatically for effect. “or perhaps, a rapper?”
“i mean…” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. “i guess i can rap, too.”
“that’s cool. i think you have a pretty talking voice, too.”
“aigoo, thank you so much.” he jokingly bends down his torso for a bow, clasping his hands together with the small remaining piece of granola bar in between before taking it in between his teeth.
the harmony of your laughter bleeds through the chilly air, providing your hearts a wave of much needed warmth.
“thank you too. you gave me an idea what to gift my friends next time.”
“speakers?” his face lights up like of a kid unboxing presents beside the christmas tree. you’ve never met anyone who looks this passionate at the mention of the said device— this whole interaction is giving you the urge to dive deeper into the world of music beyond the sphere of being a casual listener. “they’ll love it. it’s the best gift for me personally.”
you tilt your head to the side. “you know a lot about them?”
“hmmm, i don’t know.” he purses his lips as he hums, eyes falling on the ground as he ponders. “they’re important for shows and work so i naturally learn a lot about them… i often look for reviews and new releases. it’s like a hobby?”
“really? then i’m sold. i need you.”
the carelessly casual words escape your mouth before you can think twice.
“need me?” he repeats your word in surprise, pointing at himself.
you disguise yourself with a nod and a coy smile, acting nonchalant as if you’re not screaming inside. you’ve always been this shameless when you have nothing to lose, but he’s just so pretty that you want to learn shit like what his favorite food is and whether your zodiac signs are compatible even though you don’t believe in them.
“help me choose the best speakers to buy, one year from now. i don’t know anything about music at all, so i always have a hard time with gifts.” you’re pouting sadly by the end, your words bearing the weight of truth, albeit you’re also using them as an excuse to glue yourself onto him.
in your mind, five seconds feels like it’s stretching into eternity. he breaks out into a shy grin, playing with the parchment paper left in his hand before folding it over and over again until it becomes the same size as the nail of his thumb. he stuffs it into the pocket of his washed denim jeans.
“okay then, i should help you. give me your number?”
your hands graze each other as you lay hold of his phone, clueless instruments of your and jungkook’s youthful impulses and anticipation.
“do you have other ___’s in your contacts? should i name myself ‘___ from mj’s music box’?” you inquire half-jokingly, raising your eyebrows at him.
”ey, come on. there’s no need for that.” he chortles, staring back at you with an unnamed emotion in his eyes, but you quickly revert your attention to the screen and you don’t notice.
“i don’t think you’ll remember me just by my name a year from now, though.” you mutter to yourself as you tap on the screen. after that, you tap the call button to save his number on your phone as well.
you’re already handing him back his phone when he finally constructs a reply-
“is that so? then make it difficult for me to forget.”
and the air gets robbed from your lungs. it makes you wonder how many hearts he has broke, being this handsome and charming, and if you’ll even drag this out and stick around long enough to find out.
“be careful of your words. i’m pretty competitive.” you playfully taunt him, softly tugging his wrist to put the device on his delicately wide palm. “don’t blame me when i end up being the only person you think about.”
he matches your energy, a cocky smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he shakes his head. “psh, why would i? that doesn’t sound like a bad deal.”
why are you thinking of ways to keep this flowing instead of retreating and coming up with an obvious excuse to leave? as always, you find yourself most liberated when you meet new people, even when you know they’ll only be a fleeting presence in your life, here to leave a stain or a scar. you wish a taxi never arrives. you wish to be left stranded here for the rest night so you can hear him talk about the first song he ever wrote and you can tell him about the stupid song your first boyfriend wrote for you.
but alas, the universe intervenes with your fantasies and the approaching blazing headlights almost blind your blurry eyes.
you wave your hand to hail the taxi, and you smile at jungkook one more time. “time for me to go.”
“oh, okay.”
the vehicle parks infront of the bench. he watches you hurriedly toss the granola bar you never finished into the transparent tupperware, a feeling akin to disappointment gnawing at his guts.
“wait- weren’t you waiting for a taxi, too?” you wonder out loud as you slide the resealed container inside your bag.
“i’m fine, i have a ride. you go take it- oh, oh- let me help you with that-” he stands up abruptly when he sees you struggling to stand up, lifting the guitar to relieve you of the barrier.
“thanks, jungkook.” you laugh airily, getting on your feet, closer to him than you’ve ever been. he’s taller than you originally thought, and it’s hard to ignore the fact that his flexing forearms are veiny… (you have a suspicion that he’s doing it on purpose. the guitar bag isn’t that heavy.) those, paired with that pretty baby face— he’s so manly and so adorable in a way you’ve never seen in anyone else. he’s a beautiful, refreshing sight to behold.
you’re holding your breath, as if that would freeze the hands of the clocks, halt the earth from spinning on its axis because it’s the only way for you to stay without blaming yourself. the love songs haven’t stopped playing, and a slow acoustic sets out to delude you that this is a scene from an indie romance film, a beginning of something beautiful, but it rarely is. it never is.
his bunny teeth sink into his bottom lip, tainting it a darker shade of pink, before his tongue sneaks out to lick it. “you can go inside.” he generously says, slightly raising his arms to gesture at your cherished gift he’s grasping securely.
you only nod in understanding, walking past him and proceeding to open the door to slide into the backseat. you assist him in putting the guitar inside the taxi and over your lap, and you force your brain to shut down before you can speak again and your friskiness gets you into trouble.
“get home safe, ___!” he brightly chirps, waving at you goodbye.
your cheeks are starting to hurt from all the giddy smiles, but you just can’t stop, not when he has this contagious and bubbly expression painted on his face that’s simply impossible not to adore.
“you too, jungkook.”
his meticulous eyes briefly wander around your figure, checking if you’re too close, and then he carefully slams the door shut. you sink into your seat, swallowing the lump in your throat before telling the taxi driver your address.
you don’t want to think too much, so you close your eyes, hoping to get more sleep to recharge your mental and social batteries. unsurprisingly, you grow restless not even five minutes after. the soothing piano ballads faintly playing in the radio aren’t much help either. an infuriated scream hangs on the tip of your tongue, and you bite it down into dust. instead, you dish out your phone from the pocket of your bag to save jungkook’s number… but then the venomous voice of your ex calling you degrading names ranging from ‘an ungrateful, attention-seeking bitch’ to ‘a slut’ after you broke up with him echo in your tumultuous head, and you begin feeling pathetically small and nauseous. for a split moment you find yourself contemplating whether you should just delete it or not. out of guilt or out of fear, maybe both, you’re not quite certain.
what ultimately pull you out from the dark abyss of relentless overthinking are the first notifications you ever receive with his name attached to them.
Jungkook:
hey this is JK
i just thought of this now ?!..
trade my music equipment expertise for your magical granola bar recipe? :)
you bury your face in your hands, silently crying out— “ah shit, this is so annoying. why does he have to be so cute? i need a drink.”
“i’m hungry.” the grumpy complaint spills from your tongue now that bam, your not-so little happy pill, is out from sight.
“me too.” jungkook juts out his bottom lip, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you. “do you still have strawberry wafers in your bag?”
his question prompts you to hug it defensively. no, just no. “i’m saving them for emergencies-”
he puts his index finger infront of his lips, shushing you with a shake of his head. he tuts. “i know. this is an emergency, baby.”
cornered at the armrest of the couch, you have nowhere else to go. you unwillingly surrender to satisfying his craving, grimacing as he starts rummaging through your bag. this is exactly why you told him you should eat brunch before bringing in bam for his grooming, but jungkook insisted that it won’t take too long. sure, maybe the grooming session itself won’t… but the waiting in line part? that definitely took too long. making an appointment is technically futile when you’re visiting on a weekend.
“mhmmm, i love it.” he moans in satisfaction, devouring the slice of wafer in only two consecutive bites.
you glare at him when he offers you the plastic bag with a teasing smile, seizing it from his grip to snack on the treat while you continue to wait at the lounge area. you’re the only fur parents left here, the last clients before the staff goes on their hour-long lunch break. the sign on the door has been flipped to say ‘CLOSED’.
jungkook wraps one arm around you, pulling you closer by the shoulder and cupping your face with his warm hand to plant an apologetic kiss on your cheek. “i’ll cook you a hearty meal for dinner when we get home.”
you melt in his hold, leaning further against the backrest to release the tension from your body bred by hunger and impatience.
“really?” you feign nonchalance as you make the futile attempt of hiding the pleased smile curving on your lips. “i want chicken. the one you made before, with the creamy and spicy sauce.”
your mouth is practically watering as you describe the dish, the smell and taste of his cooking still vivid in your senses’ memory. it’s making the food you’re eating painfully insipid, but it’s better than nothing.
“and wine, too. no- actually, i’m craving tequi- argh, i’ll settle with wine.”
“okay! chicken and wine for dinner!” he agrees straight away, pressing a kiss on your temple before pinching one more stick of wafer between his fingers. he breaks it into two halves and gives one of them to you.
you accept it wordlessly, but a peculiar feeling is slithering its way into the tight confines of your heart, and you can’t withdraw your eyes from closely observing your gorgeous boyfriend. he brushes off the crumbs that fell on his white t-shirt and his lap after he finishes his share, still chewing as he tenderly takes the empty plastic from your hand. just as you predicted, he finds entertainment in folding it as small as possible.
“this is giving me déjà vu.”
“déjà vu?” he tilts up his head, doe eyes widening as you’ve captured his attention.
“uh-huh, you know when we first met…” you trail off, sending him a threatening look when the confused expression on his face stays unchanging. “you remember, right?”
his mouth hangs open before his eyebrows knit in irritation, posture straightening as he stammers with his defense. “what kind of question is that? you’re hurting my feelings- you were wearing a varsity jacket with the number 6 on it!”
“jungkook, i wore that like everyday for four months.”
his expression softens, pierced lip forming a pout. “do you even know that i-i… ah, i’ll show you instead!”
“show me what?”
he digs his hand in the pocket of his dark blue denim jeans, dishing out his wallet. you peer at him with curiosity as he rapidly unzips it to comb through his cards, pausing at his driver’s license and removing the white paper hiding behind it.
“no way-” you splutter, nearly choking on your own spit as your hunch grows enormously.
he unfolds it to reveal the faded blue ink that writes the most crucial and specific details of the first time the universe conspired to make your paths cross.
“look, i still have the receipt from the night! november 11…”
you notice him squinting at the faint characters, and you momentarily disconnect from the surge of mixed emotions to pull out his prescription glasses from the collar of his t-shirt. you affectionately wear it on him, weaving your fingers through his hair to brush away the loose strands from his bun blocking the lens.
“thanks baby- it’s november 11, 2017. at 9:55pm!”
jungkook originally kept this receipt for a month incase he had to return the speakers due to unforeseen defect or damage. but then you never stopped talking, and you became the only person he thinks of 24/7 just as your coquettish warning told. the thought of throwing it out never occured to him. instead, he preserved it in his wallet because he carries it with him everywhere he goes. he would even argue that it’s his most important property in it. he can have his credit cards cancelled then replaced, but this piece of paper is once in a lifetime.
mj’s music box closed down due to the pandemic. he hasn’t told you this, didn’t want to break your heart when he found out. he knows that you treasure the place as much as him, if not more.
meanwhile, the new-found knowledge has rendered you speechless, unblinking, buffering.
“what’s with that face? you’ve never seen this in my wallet?” he quizzes you in bewilderment, smiling humorously.
“of course i haven’t! you want me going through your wallet without permission?!” you whine, hugging his arm and hiding yourself behind his back to calm the intense pumping of your heart.
oh, your sweet, sweet jungkook— he never runs out of way to make you fall in love with him all over again.
“my love, you know i don’t care about things like that.” he chuckles, astonished by how you still highly value and respect his privacy and boundaries despite how long you’ve been together. it just occurs to him then, that at the very core of your relationship, this is probably why he never once regretted moving in with you. he says it all the time, but he just feels so goddamn lucky to have you in his life. he loves you. he loves everything about you. even the things he doesn’t like, he loves.
“aren’t you going to eat that?”
you’re overflowing with his love, you can’t stomach anything else.
“i won’t.”
“i’ll indulge myself then.” he cages your hand in his, raising it for the wafer to reach his lips. he bites it all the way down like a bunny eating a carrot, ending the journey with a chaste kiss on your knuckle. “you’re too quiet… are you crying?”
you shake your head profusely, tightening your embrace. “i love you so much, i can’t think. i just want to hug you.”
he smells a different type of sweet nowadays— more manly, more mature, binding you in an enrapturing spell, and with a suble hint of a baby scent that somehow makes him much more intoxicating. it’s overwhelming to think about— the amount of perfume bottles you’ve bought and consumed after asking one another if they smell too basic or too strong; the amount of times jungkook changed his wallet and took the receipt along with him because it only felt right.
“mkay, i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers, nosing at your hair.
and so, he stays stuck by the glue onto you as he gulps down a bottle of water, as he returns his wallet in his pocket with grunts of difficulty, as he deletes a promotional text on his phone sent by his service provider. he suspects that you’ve already fallen asleep. after all, you did spend the entire night dancing to the songs he sang along to. you wore the crocheted blanket you made as a cape and a dress, flowing with your graceful movements controlled by the lyrics and the beat and the melody and his compliments and his giggles.
he’s proven wrong when you slowly turn your head, cheek squished against his bicep. with heavy eyelids, you search for his hands, tangling them with your lonely ones.
“want to hear something silly about that day?”
“i’m all ears.” he beams eagerly, watching you twiddle with his long and slender fingers.
“do you know why i offered you my food?”
“because you couldn’t let a pretty boy like me succumb to starvation?”
“weeeell, there’s that…” you admit to his confident guess. “but aside from that, i wanted to see your nails closely.”
“my nails?”
you make a noise of confirmation as you trace his tattoos, a laugh seeping from the cracks of your relaxed demeanor. “to see if they were clean and trimmed or not.”
“so…” jungkook, the most hygienic man you’ve ever met, is digesting what you just confessed to him. “if they were dirty, you never would’ve told me your name?”
“hmm, yeah. because i always badgered my ex about it and you know how that relationship ended, so i thought enforcing those type of rules would help because i don’t want to deal with that shit again.” you cringe at younger you’s naivety and desperation, smiling shyly. “and it kind of… worked out so well? it sounds so funny to me now. i actually love myself for that.”
“fuck, baby,” he sighs.
he can’t imagine how a human being could ever dare to treat you with anything but gentleness. literally, can’t. it makes him sick to his stomach, makes the blood in his veins boil. he feels disturbed by the memories that still haunt you, and he feels angry because he is powerless and he can’t erase them no matter how hard he tries.
he caresses your face, planting doting kisses on your lips. the ghost of his affection lingers, like an invisible lipstick mark. “i wish i met you sooner.”
“what are you saying? i think we met at the perfect time!” you console his frustration, grinning when the epiphany lands on top of your bittersweet flashbacks. “out of the 365 days of the year, we met at 11/11. you’re my wish come tru- bam!”
the shocked, high-pitched squeal freefalls from your mouth when bam excitedly jumps on your laps out of nowhere, the weight of his upper half crushing your thighs underneath him. the dog smiles at you, panting.
“bam, i missed you but i was just about to tell your dad something romantic!”
taglist in the reblogs! send an ask / dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
Text
MW2 waking up next to their S/O
Warnings: 18+, Just so much fluff, implied smut, suggestive content, mention of somnophilia, sub and dom König, implied oral sex, petnames, no pronouns used for Reader except for ‘You’, etc.
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Ghost
He's lowkey excited to wake up before you when he knows he has to be up early.
He'll set his alarm - on vibrate so that it doesn't wake you, only him - 30 minutes earlier than he needs to be up just so he can look at you.
And boy, does he look at you.
He looks upon you as an artist would their masterpiece, marveling at your beauty, your skin, your face, your expression.
You look so peaceful, so unlike anything Simon had had the pleasure of seeing before; your form radiated a tranquility he could only hope to achieve one day.
But with you at his side, he gets closer to nirvana every day, finding the beauty in everything you show him.
He'd have to physically pull himself out of bed when he could not prolong his departure any longer.
If you were still asleep by the time he left, he'd plant a soft kiss on your forehead, leaving you undisturbed.
However, if you were awake, he'd press deep, warm kisses to your lips, trailing down to your jaw, your neck, your collarbones - you'd have to stop him, telling him to go before you made him stay.
"Make me stay, hmm?" he'd say, sighing another kiss against your throat.
"And what makes you think I won't take you up on that offer?"
What happens next is entirely up to you and how much Simon wants to get to the gym before it's packed full 😉.
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König
Ngl, König looks straight-up terrifying when you catch him looking at you.
He'll just be lay next to you, staring at you like 👁 👄👁.
The only way to get him to stop is either by asking him, or, the more preferable option, distracting him.
How you distract him is up to you, but you both have your...preferences.
When König has to be somewhere but is feeling a certain kind of way, he'll literally paw at you like a cat, his eyes round and pleading.
Or, if he's more dominant, he'll just pounce on you, pinning him beneath him and making sure you're not going anywhere, unable to walk for the rest of the day.
Granted, he's not a fan of quickies, so he'll either chase his release by taking you in your sleep, or risk being late to whatever it is he's engaged with.
Whenever he looks over at you in the morning, he can't help but reflect on how lucky he is, how fortunate he must be to have you at his side each day to show him what love - true love - feels like.
He can get a bit emotional when he looks at you during mornings like these, but it's only because he loves you so much.
He wonders what you'll do all day when he's out the house, if you'll think of him as he thinks of you now.
If he's feeling a little insecure about that, you may have to qwell his worries and remind him just how much you love and miss him when he's away.
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Rodolfo
Babey 🥺!1!!
Like König, he'll just full-on stare at you like👁👄👁.
He just can't believe how beautiful you are, especially when the light catches you and makes you look like you're glowing.
He genuinely believes you must be an angel or something of the like.
He'll bring you presents and hide them under your pillow while you sleep so you have something to look forward to when you wake up.
He'll do this especially when he knows he'll be gone by the time you wake.
These gifts are usually deeply personal and thoughtful, like a locket bracelet with a picture of you on one side and a picture of him in the other.
Other times it'll be a post-it note, giving you the first of a list of instructions to follow like a treasure map in order to find your prize - usually something too big that he couldn't fit it beneath your pillow - somewhere in the apartment.
Whenever you wake up and find him looking at you, you'll have to kiss him on the nose or the forehead to snap him out of his trance.
After which point, he'll take you up in his arms and just hold you, often times making you squeal when he buries his face into your neck, leaving warm, wet kisses there.
Offer this man and kind of release first thing in the morning and he'll literally be set for the day.
He considers that your gift to him, your ability to instantly and consistently lift his mood for the day just by being there (amongst other things).
Literally nothing can bring him down after that, and everyone else in the force can tell when you've been at it because of the absolute swagger in his walk and the smile plastered to his face.
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Alejandro
God, he makes me feral
Passionate man, let me just remind y'all of that.
He's the type to absolutely smother you with kisses the second he wakes up.
Any area of skin that's not covered will fall victim to his unrelenting desire to drown you in his love.
Sometimes you'll wake up with love bites all over you like bee stings and you'll just see Alejandro looking at you like 😊.
And you just can't stay mad at him.
You can, however, get your own back.
It usually takes you both an hour to get out of bed in the morning, and this is exactly the reason why.
Like Rodolfo, it's rare for Alejandro to come to work without his signature smile on his face and authority in his walk.
Little does anyone know that beneath the collar of his shirt lies a collage of bite marks and bruises, courtesy of the love of his life.
Won't leave the bed until you're satisfied, making sure you're stuffed full of his cum so that you have something to remember him by.
You don't know this, but before bed he'll practically drink a bottle of breath spray so that his breath smells good for you in the morning.
When you eventually caught on, you had to tell him to stop because you didn't want him staining his teeth.
"Would you no longer love me if I didn't have teeth?" he said, to which you vehemently denied his claim and had to reassure him that you would love him even if he were a three-foot tall slug with no teeth and a monocle.
That, amongst other means of reassurance 🥴.
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Price
You'd feel his beard, either between your thighs or on your face, before you saw him.
He makes sure you're satisfied every morning before your day even starts, his own form of reward for you making his life brighter.
He'll pull you flush against his chest first thing after he wakes up, if you're not already in that position.
He always says "Good morning, Sunshine," first, then presses a love-filled kiss to your head.
If you've had a particularly intense night, he'll bring you breakfast (or dinner, depending on the time of day) in bed.
Will ask you to just lay beside him so he can look into your eyes before you both have to get up.
And it's usually you who has to remind him that the day isn't getting any longer and you both have to get up soon.
He won't complain, but you can tell when he wants nothing more than to just curl up with you and stay there, dead to the world.
Speaking of, this man's morning hugs are so warm.
Good luck getting out of bed in winter, because you're both way too comfy to leave your lovely warm bed just to go to work or make breakfast.
Sometimes you'll find Price already staring at you when you wake up, and you just look at each other like two ferrets in love, unmoving and wholesome.
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Gaz
The most likely to be a tease out of everyone here.
While he won't wake you from a deep slumber, he'll sure as hell try and annoy you in the minutes after you wake up, knowing your cognition and sight are both impaired at this particular time.
One time, near Halloween, he put on a Grim Reaper mask and waited on your side of the bed until you woke up.
He made no noise, he didn't jump on you; he simply waited.
And when you saw his skeletal outline, you initially thought it was Ghost. That alone made you near enough shit yourself and scream as if you were being murdered.
Aside from that, though, he can be very tender. When his judgement is clouded with sleep and the world doesn't yet feel real, that's when he's at his most vulnerable, and his most sincere.
He loves to pull you into his bare chest and just rest there, feeling your breath against his skin; a reminder that you're still here, still alive.
Despite being so young, it's during times like these that Gaz knows where he wants to be for the rest of his life, what he wants to do with it.
And it all comes down to you.
During his morning reflections on your relationship, he'll think of your future together, just you, him and your conjoined families bound through your marriage, living.
You keep him sane, help him realise there is so much more to life than his military duties, and beer, and watching TV.
He never truly felt as if he was living - alive - until he met you.
And now as he lays here, watching your chest rise and fall, he can't help but shed a tear for the alternate version of himself who’d never met you, never found you, instead living as a drone with no greater understanding of happiness as he did now.
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Valeria
You are waking up to absolutely abominable head from this woman every morning whether you like it or not.
If she feels you starting to shift and wake up, she'll use her strength to push you back down and continue.
She will not let you go a single day dissatisfied even if it kills her.
On the other hand, she can be very wholesome.
She'll watch you sleep, either in the dead of night or in the wavering light of the morning simply because she thinks you're so unbelievably breathtaking.
She'll brush stray strands of your hair from your face while you sleep, feeling her heart stutter when you twitch and make a little noise.
She often calls you "Bunny," or "Kitty," because of your mannerisms when you sleep.
Quick note: if you wake her up with head in the morning, you are done for.
You're stuck in bed for the rest of the day.
I don't make the rules, Valeria does.
During these mornings she'll relate to you about how much she wants "To break you," calling you her "little doll,"
Don't get her wrong; she's not punishing you!
Far from it.
But she just wants you to know that she has the power in this relationship, and she sees your pleasure as something only she is allowed to give and take.
So, in a nutshell, don't go doing any favours for Valeria without her asking, because she will assume you're doing it to get something out of her.
And she doesn't like owing people.
On the contrary, she enjoys the power she has over others by making them indebted to her.
And this includes you (lovingly).
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Soap
NEWSFLASH: MAN W/ BIG TIDDIES GIVES BEST CUDDLES
Seriously though, Soap's cuddles are one of the main reasons you can't (don't want to) get out of bed in the mornings.
He'll wake up, see you soundly sleeping next to him, and just pull you on top of him.
He's not letting you go for at least two hours.
He just adores the way you feel against him, your chests pressed together as he plants feather-light kisses to your face, waking you.
His morning voice is just uuuUUUUUUUGH.
And he will use it against you.
"Mornin' love," he'd say, burying his face in your hair. "D'you sleep well? Or d'you need me to put you to sleep again..."
His morning kisses are always sloppy, laced with exhaustion yet laden with joy.
He enjoys the sleepy whines you make when he rubs his stubble across your sensitive areas; your neck, your stomach, between your thighs, etc.
He absolutely cages you beneath him whenever he rolls over onto you.
Sometimes he's aware of it, sometimes he isn't.
But when he is, he'll just lay there, making sure you have no way of escape, while you mewl against him that you "Have stuff to do today!" Meanwhile, he's plotting and planning ways to keep you bed-bound for the next 24 hours.
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Graves
Will 100% wake you up with sex near enough every morning.
He's so smug about it, too; he'll just give you a grin and, when you realise what he’s doing, his expression will shift into a more 'innocent' one.
He'll just look at you like huh? What??? Did I do something????
Is a bit of a brat when it comes to letting you out of bed.
He'll literally snake his arms around your waist and pull you back in, then treat you as if he'd just saved you from the floor of lava around the bed.
"Don't I get a reward for bein' your hero?"
"Yeah, my fingers in your eye sockets if you make me late for work again."
He has his tender moments, though.
He's a body worshipper, so you can expect him to be pressing deep, wet kisses to every patch of skin within his reach.
No remorse. Just straight-up will cover you in his saliva.
He also has a guilty habit of covering you in his love when you sleep.
And he'll just leave it to dry on your body. Then, when you wake up and find it crusted , you call back his name and make him retreat under the covers, stifling a chuckle.
Morning talks. Big fan of them.
Loves to debate either the biggest questions or the simplest of hypotheses with you.
"Who would win in a fight between me and Ghost?"
"Ghost."
"Alright, why?"
"Because he's a walking wall of death, babe. And you're my precious lil Philly :-)))."
"...Yeah, I am,"
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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