#morning wood.... because he's a sunshine

[zuiz41]

He was, in fact, naked.

[sinfulspencer]

Flashed

Prompt: It’s too hot to wear clothes at home, so Reader walks around in her underwear. Spencer loses his train of thoughts at the sight.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Rating: mature (18+)

Warnings: light dom/sub dynamic (Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader if you squint), dirty talking, hair pulling, light impact play, breeding kink, unprotected sex 

Words: 5.0k

A.N.: Horny Spencer. That’s it. Also, this is the first official Spencer Reid fic I have written since last year. It felt so good to write for him again. Written this with a prompt from the Summer Sunshine challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins. Thank you to @reidselle and @drgenius-reid for beta-reading this fic!

MASTERLIST. REQUEST GUIDELINES. TAGLIST FORM.

When Spencer asked you to move in with him at the end of the year, he was ready to face every challenge that life would throw at him. The first fights over laundry, the first fight over whoever almost set the house on fire, the first fights over the person that was supposed to remake the bed before going to work, the first fights over whoever left the TV on before going to bed… 

He was prepared for everything.

Spencer learned to cook (he wasn’t good at it, but he knew how to turn on the stove and boil some water, at least). He learned how to do laundry. He learned how to clean the floors without you falling on your own ass because he forgot to tell you that the ground was wet. 

But Spencer wasn’t ready for the summer. 

You moved in with him during the fall season, when it was still cold outside, and it was time to drink hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. You moved in with him when you were still wearing a winter jacket, leather boots and a scarf around your neck. You moved in when the wind was so cold that you could barely keep the window slightly opened in the bathroom after taking a shower to let the steam go out. 

Spencer wasn’t fucking ready for summer.

The hot weather was already taking a toll on his poor body and he hated it. Spencer despised the high temperatures because they made him sweat like a pig and he hated, more than anything, the feel of sweat under his armpits or behind his knees. 

Normally, before you moved in, Spencer would spend the whole time at home completely naked or wearing only underwear. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence, but it happened quite a lot. 

What was the problem, then?

Spencer used to walk around in his apartment in his underwear when he was alone, but you’re doing it while he’s in the house. He knew you paced around the house that way because you felt comfortable, but still. He was a stupid man, with hormones that rushed through his body like crazy.

You walked around your shared apartment with nothing on but a pair of panties that Spencer always wanted to rip off you and a stupid bra that made your breasts look even more delicious. 

And the sight had started to take a toll on Spencer for the worst. He was constantly horny, making it difficult for him to focus on simple tasks such as cleaning the whole apartment or doing laundry. 

He woke up one day and you already were parading yourself in your underwear, which made his morning wood even more difficult to take care of. He came home that same night and you were still in your underwear, which led him to forget he was supposed to grab some dinner with Luke because he ended up taking you against the bedroom door.

Spencer didn’t want you to wear clothes if you were too hot, but he also needed to learn how to keep his hands to himself whenever he saw an inch of your naked skin. He felt like a teenager, always eager to touch and ravish what belonged to him.

When Spencer tried to explain the situation to Luke, his colleague laughed right in his face. At first, Spencer was offended. 

‘Why are you complaining about seeing your girlfriend’s tits? You should be happy she feels comfortable around you.’

And Spencer was happy; he truly was. He was proud to know he made you feel good about yourself and allowed you to walk around the house almost naked, but he also felt like an idiot for getting a boner whenever he thought about coming home and knowing he’d find you dressed like that. 

Or better, undressed. 

That night, Spencer couldn’t wait to get home and tell you that he had a birthday party to attend next week. It was Penelope’s birthday and, as every year for the past ten, she had an entire day planned for her and her friends from work. There would be a huge pool party in a small agritourism she rented for the day, followed by a barbecue and a whole garden to explore. 

Spencer was excited to bring you there. 

You had been dating for over a year now and you couldn’t meet his co-workers and friends because you always had meetings to attend, or shifts that were incompatible with the nights the team hung out all together. 

“Y/N?” Spencer called out when he entered his apartment. 

The lights in the kitchen were on and he could hear you humming to a song blasting from the speakers. 

He dropped his bag on the floor and followed the sound of your voice, only to find you in nothing but your underwear. Again. You had your back turned and were swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music, making Spencer smile at the sight. Though the music was loud and almost hurt his ears, he was willing to tolerate the loud volume if it meant he could observe you in your element for hours on end. 

He was so enamoured with you even though you weren’t doing anything in particular. He fell harder for you everyday just watching you exist, breathe and live on your own.

But of course, the romantic thoughts in his head abruptly stopped when you felt his presence in the room and you screamed.

“Fuck! What the fuck, Spencer?!”

He didn’t want to laugh at your terrified expression, but a chuckle fell from his lips. 

“Did I scare you?”

You roll your eyes, dropping your apron on the counter. “No. I screamed because I was learning how to fry scream. Fuck yes, you scared me.”

Spencer walked to the other side of the kitchen counter and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug. You smelled like apples and he could see them in the corner of his eyes, all peeled up. 

“How was work? Did you get your stuff done?” you asked

Spencer nodded his head, kissing your temple without losing his grip on you. “Yes. I’m exhausted, though. I couldn’t wait to get home so I could relax and enjoy some time with you.”

You leaned forward, caressing his soft curls. “I bet you’re tired. You’ve been awake since five in the morning.”

As Spencer left the kitchen to get changed, he heard the music turning back on and he smiled. Your footsteps echoed in the room, and he smiled because he knew you were dancing to your favourite songs again. But still, there was a big problem that needed to be solved at that instant. 

You were still in your underwear and of course, he had noticed that. How couldn’t he? 

Spencer saw you for less than three minutes and yet, the bulge in his trousers made it difficult for him to think straight. He didn’t know how it was possible for you to turn him on that much, but you did and it was starting to make things harder for him.

If Spencer brought you to Penelope's birthday party, you were definitely going to wear a bikini. And a bikini is basically the same thing as your underwear… which meant one thing.

“Oh no.”

“Are you talking to me?”

Spencer turned around, attempting to cover the issue between his thighs with the jacket he brought to work that morning. 

“Uh, no love. No, I was just thinking about… something.”

“Care to share?” you asked with an innocent smile.

Spencer knew that smile was actually innocent; you had no ill intentions, but his brain was starting to play games with him. He was so turned on that Spencer thought every little microexpression on your face and every move you made were just actions to tease him and work him up. 

They were not. Or maybe they were.

“Sorry, uh… Yeah. Penelope invited me to her birthday party this Saturday.”

Your face enlightened at his words. “Oh! That’s so nice!”

“She asked me to bring you, too.” 

“I don’t like the tone you just used. If you don’t want to bring me, that’s…”

Spencer widened his eyes, realising that his words might’ve sounded rude. “No! I’m excited to let you meet all of my friends and co-workers, truly.”

“Then, what is it? I know there’s something that bothers you.”

You sat on the bed with your legs crossed, waiting for Spencer to continue but, he didn’t dare to move. If he placed his jacket on the bed, you would’ve noticed the painful tent in his trousers. If he didn’t move, you would’ve asked him why he wasn’t taking off his clothes and putting on more comfortable ones.

Too many thoughts were running wild through Spencer’s brain and it was difficult for him to gather them all, cast aside the naughty ones and focus on the more normal ones. 

It was tough not to stare at the curves of your breasts and how he could see the shadow of your nipples hidden behind the fabric of your bra. He has spent so many hours just licking and sucking your skin around your breasts, that he can still taste you on his tongue if he focuses hard enough. 

“Penelope has rented a whole place for all of us.”

You hummed, tilting your head. “Sounds really nice. Is there a swimming pool involved? Is that why you’re worried?”

Spencer bit his bottom lip, forcing himself not to stare at the way your hair fell over your shoulders and covered the laces of your bra. A few days ago, he used his teeth to remove that same bra. It was a struggle not to think about that night, and he pathetically failed.

“I’m sure the place she rented is clean and…”

As you started to speak and comfort Spencer over his fear of germs, his mind wandered elsewhere. You moved to the centre of the bed to be closer to him and laid on it, with your arms behind your head and your body all stretched out. 

Your bra barely covered your full breasts and your thighs were much more visible, with all the little bruises still peppering your skin. The same bruises he caused two days before. The same bruises you begged him to create on. 

Spencer’s brain was starting to get even foggier. 

“Are you even listening to me, love?” 

You snapped your fingers in front of his face and Spencer dropped the jacket on the floor, quickly bending over to pick it up. Of course, he was listening to you, but he was just… thinking about something else while you were talking. 

“Hm.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Spencer turned away from you and looked down, frowning. His bulge was still there and getting more painful, but how in the world was he going to face you and ask you if you could help him out? He knew you would, in a heartbeat, but he felt miserable. 

How could he ask you to stop walking around his place in nothing but your underwear when he wanted to worship your body every hour of every day? How could he deny himself the sight of your stunning body? 

His eyes went straight to your breasts and of course, you noticed it. 

“Spencer!”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“My God.” - you started to say, sitting up on the bed - “You’re distracted! You can’t even finish a sentence or listen to me.”

Spencer hummed again, forcing his eyes to stay on your face. Unfortunately, they slipped down to your breasts once again - but that time, Spencer didn’t deny it. How could he? He had been so obvious since he arrived home, but you thought to yourself that maybe you were imagining things.

Or you were too horny, but you weren’t. He was. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“You’ve been staring at my breasts since you saw me in the kitchen.” you stated

Spencer sighed, turning his back on you again. “I’m sorry. They’re distracting.”

“Look at me, love.”

He lingered for a few seconds, covering his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn around because he knew you would’ve teased him for hours on end, but it truly wasn’t his fault. It was his brain that tricked him into staring at your boobs and remembering all the things he did to you the night before and all the other days. 

It wasn’t his fault he had an eidetic memory and he could replay all your moments of intimacy together each time he wanted. How you looked when he kissed your neck, how you moaned when his tongue swirled around your nipples…

“You can look at them whenever you want, you know.” - you tapped his shoulder, kneeling behind him on the bed - “I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the point, Y/N.” - Spencer replied, forcing himself to turn around - “You’re so distracting, I can barely think when you’re there… dressed up like that.”

You raised your brows. “Do you want me to change?”

“No!” - he exclaimed, before clearing his throat - “I mean… maybe. I don’t know, but I can’t keep getting hard because you’re half-naked.”

“What’s wrong with being attracted to me, love?” you asked with your arms crossed.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know, but it’s hard to be around you when all I think about is how I want to just…” - he took a deep breath before shaking his head - “I need to behave, I’m sorry.”

There was a moment of silence where you pondered over his words. He seemed so miserable and all because he was so attracted to you that he could barely think, that he could barely remember that he had other things to do other than you. 

That felt incredibly hot. 

Leaning forward, you placed a hand on his hip. “I want to hear what you’re thinking about right now.”

Spencer shook his head, covering your hand with his. “It’s too early.”

“It’s never too early to make love to your partner, Spencer.”

You were right, he knew that, but he also knew that if he kissed you and took you right there, he would’ve spent the whole night just trying to do it over and over until you were too tired to move or to keep your eyes open. 

Spencer sighed and looked down at you. “You drive me crazy.”

“And what’s the harm in that, love?” you asked innocently 

He moved his hands under your neck and forced you to look at him, gripping your chin with his fingertips. You went quiet, trying to decipher the expression on his face, though the tight grip was already a good hint of what he was thinking about.  

“No harm.”

“Exactly, so… What’s stopping you?”

Spencer knew nothing was stopping him from pressing your body onto the mattress and pounding into you. He had every right to do so because he knew you wanted it as much as he did, but still. There was an issue to fix and he refused to let his hormones get in the way, once again. 

But maybe just this time, Spencer thought.

You leaned your head against his palm, and closed your eyes when his fingers brushed over your cheek. He could look at you for hours, admiring how you basked in the sweetness of his touch that you found so comforting. 

“Nothing’s stopping me.”

You sighed, running your hands over his chest. “Good.”

Spencer unbuckled his belt and the metal clanking of it falling onto the floor brought an eager smile to your lips. Of course you smiled, because you were about to get exactly what you wanted since he came home. 

Little minx, Spencer thought. 

“You don’t need to hold back from what you truly desire, Spencer.” 

He drank up your words like they were the sweetest honey and he sighed. You were right; he didn’t need to stop himself from putting his hands over you if you wanted to be touched as well, but still.

“If you want to rip my underwear off me, you can do it.” - you muttered, slowly opening the buttons of his shirt - “If you want to fuck me like this, while I’m almost naked and you’re still dressed, you can do it.”

Spencer watched as your skilled fingers pushed his shirt off his shoulder and sighed, because there was nothing else he could do or say at that moment. You had him wrapped around your tiny finger and you knew it, which was why he loved you so much. You could’ve snapped your fingers and he would’ve dropped to his knees for you. 

“I just.. I just need to have you. At all times.”

“You can.” - you replied with no hesitation, only firmness in your voice - “I am here for your pleasure. Always.”

Spencer released a long sigh. “I know. I’m so lucky.”

Pushing his trousers down his legs to reveal his soft skin, you looked up at him with your lips turned into a wicked grin. You could see the emotions rapidly changing behind those eyes: lust, frustration, love, annoyance and desire. That was exactly what you wanted: you craved to drive Spencer crazy and you needed him to lose his mind over you. 

It made you feel powerful.

“You’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.” you said 

Spencer leaned into your touch when you reached out for his face. “So are you, princess.”

But the tender moment was gone as fast it came, because there was no time to be nice to one another. Spencer wanted to wreck you and you wanted him to do as he pleased; you wanted the pleasure to consume him, and so it did.

Spencer kissed you for the first time since he came home and, of course, he had no time to be nice. His tongue pushed into your mouth without warning, but you let it as you laid down on the bed with the man on top of you. The kiss expressed all the frustration that had built within him ever since he came home and found you in the kitchen, wiggling your ass to the music and singing at the top of your lungs. 

His teeth dug into the soft flesh of your bottom lip and you whined, almost tasting blood on your tongue. 

“Let me be rough tonight.”

You grabbed him by the chin, staring right into those honey-coloured eyes. “Perhaps I was not clear with my words a moment ago, Spencer. I want you to do whatever you want to me.”

Spencer groaned at your words and pushed any rational thought out of his mind, allowing the frustration and profound desire felt for you to drive him. His pupils were blown wide with unbridled lust making you shiver, bringing the heat between your thighs where you so desperately wanted to be touched. 

Spencer kissed your mouth before moving down to your throat, attacking it with bites and gentle licks that made you whimper. 

“I’m going to ravish you tonight, my princess.” - Spencer whispered to your ear, running his hands all over your breasts - “And you’re going to take my cock like the good girl I know you are for me, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes, love.”

He moved his hands to your face, kissing the tip of your nose. “Hands and knees.”

You scrambled to turn around, struggling to move as his arms didn’t give you as much space as you needed. Spencer, ever so helpful, pulled your hips up when you managed to roll on your tummy. 

“Good girl, that’s it.”

You could feel his cock against your ass when he leaned forward to bite your shoulder and you moaned, closing your eyes. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your back, dragging your panties down your thighs before throwing them on the floor. 

Spencer’s mouth wandered down your neck, leaving a trace of kisses that started from your right shoulder and went down to your ass. He nibbled at the soft skin right below it before biting down, hard enough to draw blood. You yelped at the feeling, but didn’t complain as your hands scratched the blanket. 

Spencer pulled away for a second and traced the small wound with the tip of his index, earning a hiss from you. It hurt, but you wanted it to hurt - you promised you’d bleed for him, and bleed you did. 

“Good girl. So pretty for me.” - Spencer whispered, but you were more focused on the sound of a bottle of lube being opened - “I’m sorry, I’m so impatient to have you. I wish we could take this slow, but I can’t.”

“It’s okay, I know you’re desperate.” - you mumbled, moaning softly when his fingers breached your entrance - “It’s fucking cold.”

He chuckled at your reaction, smearing the lube all over your already wet slit. “Oops”

When you were ready, Spencer found no resistance as he slowly pushed the tip of his cock inside of you. He watched the way your walls welcomed him in and revelled in the sweetness of your whimpers and whines when you felt him. Spencer waited, watching you as you struggled to stay still for him. 

“Please, just… Get inside, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh? Wanna take it all at once, my princess?” - Spencer asked, running his left hand through your hair - “Are you desperate for my cock? Then, fucking have it.”

In one hard thrust, Spencer bottomed out inside of you and you fell on the bed with your face in the pillow. You trembled when you finally felt every inch of his cock inside of you and you thought you were ready to fall off the edge in less than a minute. 

You were desperate for him every single time you had the chance to make love to him.

“Take it, princess. You wanted it and now you have it.”

Spencer watched you as you arched your back, tightening your grip on the bed sheets. A chorus of curses and moans flows from your lips as you try to get back on your knees, but his thrusts are too quick and harsh to let you get in position. So, again, you fell down with your face in the pillow. 

The pleasure quickly expanded through your body as Spencer never slowed down the pace of his thrusts, basking in the gentle sounds of your moans. His right hand travelled down to reach your ass, and before you felt it, you heard it - there was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud smack and then a deep heat diffusing over your skin. 

It had been so long since he spanked you, but with that position, you couldn’t blame him.

The sensation heightened the pleasure within you. 

“Oh, fuck!”

Spencer moved both his hands on each side of your head and leaned forward, keeping his thrusts quick and regular. You could feel his body tense each time you tried to push back into him, to fuck yourself onto his cock. 

You were already close, desperate to ride that delicious end. 

“Please, more.” - you cried out again - “Please, I’m close.”

“Don’t you dare.” - he bit your earlobe - “Don’t you fucking dare come on my cock now.”

You whined at his order, not sure how you would be able to hold it and be a good girl for him. It wasn’t easy to hold an orgasm, especially if Spencer never stopped fucking into you with all the energy he had in his body. You were so close, you were right there but Spencer stopped his movements - and suddenly, you felt a warm tear slip down your cheek.

A single tear of frustration. 

Spencer forced you on your back, pushing you onto the mattress before sliding his cock back inside of you. 

“I want to see your pretty face when you come, princess.” - Spencer whispered, lifting your right leg and wrapping it around his own waist - “I want you to look at me as you come undone on my cock.”

His pace is as rough as before and you felt more tears spill from your eyes. Your hands quickly went behind his neck as you rolled your hips, a pathetic attempt at fucking yourself back onto his cock to feel more and more. 

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence. The only word that fell from your lips was a strained ‘yes’ that echoed in the room, encouraging Spencer to go harder and faster, to tear you down piece by piece.

And he looked fucking stunning as he did so. 

His lean body, his muscles were tense, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead and his tongue poking out in concentration… You wanted to get those details tattooed on your brain, on your body, every-fucking-where. 

“Such a good girl for me, huh? My pretty princess.” - Spencer whispered, looking down at you - “Always welcoming me with nothing on, knowing how crazy that makes me.”

Your lips opened slightly, more whimpers flowing from them. 

“Do you know how difficult it is to get out of here and not remember all the times I’ve fucked you against the door?” he said, his voice rough.

You shook your head, not sure if you understood what he said. 

“Fuck, you make me so horny. I fucking love your body.” - he mumbled, pressing his forehead to yours - “I always think about it and then I see dressed like that… It’s like you’re always begging me to bend you over and fuck your pretty cunt.”

You’ve always loved his dirty mouth, but that day it felt deliciously perfect. His thrusts were rough and faltering, which meant he was close to his orgasm too - you almost forgot you were close, totally enamoured by him and the way he spoke about you.  

“My slutty princess.”

You nodded with a smile, drunk on your lust for him. “All yours to use and destroy.”

You felt the pleasure built up again right behind your belly button and you knew you were close again. Spencer must’ve noticed it because he kept his pace quick, never changing the angle because he felt you clench hard around him each time he bottomed out. Your thighs were shaking around his waist and he could feel your heartbeat quickening under his fingertips. 

“My good girl.” - he mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment - “I can feel you’re close. Do you want to come on my cock, princess?”

He didn’t need a verbal answer, because soon your cries of pleasure were enough. You widened your eyes and threw your head back onto the pillow, crying out his name over and over as your nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel his skin breaking under your nails but he didn’t care. 

Spencer was too enamoured with you to realise how painful your grip was. 

“That’s it, gorgeous. You did so well.” he rewarded you with a kiss on the lips 

You barely felt it, drunk on the pleasure that he fed you. Your whole body was shuddering as Spencer helped you ride out your orgasm, but the more he thrusted, the more pain you felt stabbing you. You didn’t complain, though. 

You wanted it, you needed it and so did he. 

“Does this pretty princess want my cum deep inside of her, hm?” Spencer asked

You weren’t sure he heard you, but you managed to choke out: “Yes. Please, please, fucking do it. Please.”

A few thrusts later, Spencer granted you your wish. His warmth flooded you from the inside as he watched the way his body become one with yours, shivering with pleasure. His right hand pressed down hard below your belly button and you winced, feeling his seed run deep if that was even possible. 

It felt so incredibly good you could almost come again. 

“Ah, that felt fucking perfect.”

You closed your arms around his neck and caged him against your body, so that he wouldn’t be able to run away. Not that he wanted to, of course, but. 

Spencer didn’t move for at least five good minutes, struggling to catch his own breath while you stared at the bedroom ceiling with a grin on your face. You were deeply satisfied with yourself and you were sure Spencer was content, as well - though the conversation between you wasn’t over. 

You knew that not putting on clothes would’ve distracted him and maybe that was exactly why you never put them on when he was around in your shared apartment. It was fun to see him struggling between staring at your breasts or at your thighs, or forgetting that he had to hang out with his colleagues because he was too busy burying his face in your cunt or fucking you against a window. 

It felt good to be desired, and it felt even better knowing that it was the only thing Spencer was able to think about when he was away from you. 

“You have to stop walking around our place naked.”

You put a hand on his chest, gently pushing him upward. Spencer was still lying between your legs, but he was staring at you. 

“Naked? I am always wearing my underwear.” you stated 

Spencer bumped the tip of his nose against yours. “Which is dangerously distracting, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re using my name in a conversation.”

“I’m being serious, princess. I can’t get a boner whenever I’m near you.” - he explained, pressing a kiss on your jaw - “Believe me, I appreciate the sight but… My brain needs some rest. And so does my penis.”

“Okay, alright. I’ll do my best to keep my clothes on.” - I decided to give in - “After six weeks of pure hell, I think you deserve a break.”

Spencer kissed your cheek, before biting it softly. “I appreciate it, my princess.”

“But that doesn’t mean I won’t do it occasionally just to drive you crazy.” you warned him 

“Oh, I’m fine with that.” - he said, rolling off your body - “But give me a heads up before doing it, okay? I wouldn’t want to come home with Luke and find you in your underwear.”

“Well… it could be fun. Maybe he’d like to join…”

Spencer covered your mouth with his’ before you could finish your sentence, but the kiss was interrupted by your loud laugh echoing through the walls. 

“Alright, Luke will never see me like this.” - you gave him a peck on the lips, pushing him off you before he could spread your legs again - “This sight is for your eyes only.”

TAGLIST @blvebanisters @koukatsuki @moesdraft

BROKEN TAGS @alelaeljfj @donttrustlove

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hiii i just saw your post prision Spencer post with sunshine reader and im soooo in love with it (and in love with him too tbh) could you please do a pt2? Have a nice day💕

spencer and sunshine!reader have set routines on office days and spencer likes flirting pt 1 of their story 🤭

“Spencer Reid, prepare to have your mind blown!” You announce as you walk into the bullpen, your Mary Janes clacking against the tiles. You’re in a skirt today, Spencer supposes it’s because it’s a designated office day- there’s only three a month, but every time there is one, you come in an outfit Spencer would never even dream of. 

Today you’re channelling your inner Elle Woods. He knows about her from Resse Witherspoon, but also from your innate love of the film and the fact that you forced him to watch it on the jet once. 

You’re wearing a pretty black skirt, a grey top and a baby pink blazer that matches the pink socks you’re wearing and your eyeshadow that he just about makes out behind your glasses. 

“With what?” He’s on his way back from the kitchen, your prized orca mug in one hand and his mug in the other.

This is your new routine; you and Spencer have coffee in the morning while you both work through your crosswords and then get started on filing away reports for the many serial killers you’ve either interviewed with Tara or put away with the team. It’s fun, and it’s always something to look forward to, especially on designated office days. 

These specific mornings, you have time for a game you’ve fondly named, ‘Making Spencer Try International Desserts.’

Spencer can smell your perfume, you smell like you always do- orange blossom, coffee and lavender. It’s intoxicating, the way the scent just floats into him with every move you make. 

“The season calls for it, so  I got pavlova. It’s a New Zealand dessert and I got it with raspberries, strawberries and a passion fruit syrup situation to go on top.” 

Spencer knows the informational side to everything in the world but he’s never tried some of it out, as you’d learnt on a night out for drinks, so you’d started the game as a way to help him get real world knowledge of fun things- the operative word being up for debate but he hadn’t objected yet. 

He clears his desk, making space for the two little boxes you have in your hand. “They’re a little sweet for breakfast, but you only live once.” You open up the boxes and Spencer is shocked to see the mini pavlovas and the fruit sitting beside it in a clear container. 

“Do you like these?” He asks, handing over your coffee to you and pulling his box towards him. 

“I do, but they’re more of a picnic food to share in my opinion. Like you need to be having a bar-b-que or a garden party to have the full effect of these.” Spencer isn’t surprised by your enthusiasm for the dessert- your little stories about every one you’ve shared with him is enthusiastic for how and when to eat them. 

You sneak into the kitchen and return with two spoons. “Okay, try to get a bit of everything on your spoon.” 

Spencer does as you say, a bit of the berries, the passion fruit and the shell of the pavlova on his spoon as he takes his first bite. You sit in anticipation, watching him chew and swallow like it’s the most fascinating thing a person could do. 

You try not to focus on the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows or the way his tongue pokes out to lick away some of the meringue at the corner of his mouth. Spencer catches the way your eyes widen at the action and suppresses a smile. 

“What do you think?” You busy yourself with setting up your own perfect bite, willing your body not to give away any of your fluster at being caught looking at him. 

“It was really nice, I like the different textures.” Spencer compliments, watching you take your own bite and letting himself smile when some of the passion fruit syrup and meringue stain your bottom lip. 

Without really thinking, his thumb comes to your face, wiping away the stain easily. Your breath hitches and Spencer feels it, his smile widening even more. There’s a moment where you both just stare at each other, your breathing filling the silence- you’re fighting the urge to lean in and kiss Spencer and he’s fighting the urge to lick his thumb. 

“You only pretend to be this coy man, don’t you Doctor Reid?” you ask finally, leaning back in the chair you’re in and crossing your legs. Spencer’s sure his brain short circuits for a moment, your thighs have been a source of his torture for months now, especially when you wear skirts and dresses. 

“You know you only call me ‘Doctor Reid’ when you’re flustered?” he tries changing the subject, leaning forward a bit to get a little closer to you. 

“You have a knack for topic evasion, Spencer.” he laughs, a soft, sweet sound and he shakes his head. 

“I have a knack for you,” you can feel your heart pounding in your ears, more so when Spencer’s fingers wrap around the arm of your chair and pull you closer to his desk. “Where’s your crossword?”

[jarofstyles]

‘Tis The Season

Hello my ducklings! I have pure filth for you, and it’s been so long since I’ve given you guys any Wolfrry so I figure you’d enjoy some after a little drought!

Send in requests and feedback

Check out our Patreon for early access and 170+ exclusive writings

Warnings- breeding, knotting, use of the word 'bitch', degrading, unprotected sex, wolfrry, its an au so the world is diff, etc

WC- 2k

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The beginning of spring was always a magical time in the pack.

The snow melted and little flowers began to sprout. The sunshine warmed them up, the crisp air and emerging leaves sent a new layer of hope into the coming year. It was the true new year for them, something that put a spring in their step and warmth in their hearts, defrosting them from winter

Y/N sat in Harry’s office, next to the tall alpha as he looked over her plans for the pack gardens. “I think that’s a good idea, but I’d move the peas over to the side.” She mused, letting her body melt as the man’s arms wrapped firmly around her body. As much as she knew she needed to pull away in order to finish these plans… it was the season, wasn’t it? “H… We really need to finish the plots.” Her breathy voice echoed in his office as his hands lifted her dress up and his teeth grazed her mating mark. She shuddered, sagging in his arms- the man was playing dirty, but that was the one spot that would make anyone melt. Having your mate brush it, lick it, press it? It felt like the aftershocks of an orgasm. “Y-You’re not playing fair.”

“No, I’m not.” He hummed. “Because you’re mine, and I don’t have to. You can play hard to get all you want, little mate, but I’ve been able to smell that sweet cunt since you’ve left our bedroom this morning.” The accusation made her want to fight- but there was no ground to stand on. She had been helplessly horny all morning. It was the beginning of the mating season, the breeding season, and she was panting for it. Of course she was trying her best to be a good leader, to get on top of plans, but was it so wrong for her to want to look at her strong, handsome, powerful mate? To see his green eyes darken when he caught her scent, to have him corner her and have his way with her because that's what she dreamt about? It was just in their nature.

“S-So what?” There was one last stitch effort to pretend she wanted to work on the plans. “I’m always wet for you.” It was the truth. It was hard not to be when the man had proved time and time again he was the most incredible lover to exist, that he knew her body like the back of his hand.

“I know that. All I’ve got t’do is walk into a room and you’ll roll on your knees and present that perfect cunt for me to fuck.” He chuckled, making her whine. She always got worked up when he talked to her like that. “That’s why it’s so fuckin’ funny t’me that you’re trying to continue this charade. Acting like the point of being in here is for that blueprint when in reality, all you want is for your mate to bend you over this desk and knot you up.” He was quick about it, following his words as he roughly bent her over. Her tits crinkled the papers they’d just been working on as she let out a gasp, her dress being flipped up and a rough palm slapped the curve of her ass.

“Look at you. My sweet little bitch, came all prepared for my cock.” He crooned, using his foot to knock her legs open. She was obedient, deciding not to even feign a fight because this was exactly what she wanted. “Should spank this ass raw for running about the den with no panties on and your silky cunt bare for anyone to see, but we both know all of them have no mistake on who you belong to.” He’d taken her so many times where people could see, let them watch as he plowed her into a whimpery, sobbing mess. It was no secret that their Alpha was the one who owned Y/N.

“M’sorry, Alpha.” She bleated, cheek pressed against the wood as she heard the distinct clink of a belt buckle and the pull of leather through the loops on his pants. It sent a wave of excitement through her, knowing damn well she was in for it. She’d poked the beast, literally and metaphorically, and now she was going to suffer- or enjoy- the consequences.

“I don’t really think you are, my love.” He murmured. “I think that you’ve been gagging for my cock and I didn’t fuck you hard enough this morning. Was nice and soft with you, showered you off and everything. Let you go about your day… But I didn’t fuck you hard like you beg for. Silly me, making love to my mate, my wife, during the breeding season.” His tongue clicked as she heard his pants fall down to his ankles. “I should’ve known that my pretty bitch needed to be bred properly. Needed to be fucked until your knees were weak. You’ve always been a bit of a whore for it, haven’t you my Goddess?” Y/N couldn’t think of anything other than his cock that had begun to rub through her embarrassingly wet folds, a soft keen leaving her mouth.

Harry was right. She was desperate and hot, needy for him in all the ways he’d just described. Y/N couldn’t deny that she really did need to be fucked stupid during this time of year. Don’t get her wrong- she adored when he was so soft and sweet with her, whispering about how perfect and beautiful she was. But when this time of year came around, she wanted to be used. To be filled and fucked and see his most primal part come out. It was only natural.

“Please, I want it.” Her pathetic simper came out as she wriggled her hips, trying to taunt him. She knew damn well that he would give it to her but she was going to play into it even more.

“I know you do. Could’ve just told me you needed a good fuck, but you like to play games instead.” He wouldn’t admit that he liked those games just as much. The sharp slap on her other ass cheek resounded around the room as he got her to stop teasing him with her ass shaking, notching the tip of his prick in her hole. “Since you want t’be a whore, I’ll give it to you like one.”

Her breath was stolen as he entered her in one go. The sting of the stretch made her yelp but her toes curled as she was finally full, his heavy hand pressing her down between her shoulder blades. Keeping her pinned there and pulling out just to repeat the action, she moaned loudly at his rough treatment of her. This was what she needed. A dirty, quick, hard fuck. “Yesssss…” She elongated the word only to be cut off by a wet gasp, his hips thrusting into her again. “Give it to me, please. Please, Alpha.”

“Now she’s begging.” He laughed,a  cruel undertone to his words. “Pretty slut is begging for my cock like she should have done to begin with. I know you need it, but I forget every year just how much of a desperate, wet cunt you’ve got.” His pace started to steady, rocking her on the desk while she whimpered at each press inside of her. Her body was quite literally made for this, made for the stretching and filling and being knotted but Harry’s cock was fucking big. The biggest she’d ever seen, and people sure as hell weren’t shy about nudity around here.

“Now you can’t even talk. Finally got a prick stretching you open and that smart little mouth can’t form words. What about those plans, huh?” His snicker was followed by a harsh thrust. “Silly girl. Should’ve just gotten on your knees and begged.”

Harry loved this season. Loved how Y/N became a little minx, slinking around and trying to figure out how to get him to pounce on her. Like he wouldn’t drop everything to give it to her if she just asked. It was entertaining to make her do the work for it, like a little game. As much as he said he didn’t like them, he liked feeling her desire, knowing she was a little shy even still about asking him for sex- except when she was in heat.

“M’sorry, I just-” She whined as his cock began to fuck into her a bit faster. “I just want you all the time. I can’t help it.” If she had it her way, they wouldn’t leave the bedroom. The scents were crazy right now, everyone throwing them around to attract each other if they weren’t mated. All she wanted was his scent smeared all over her, she wanted it coating her body and there to be no question, even if they had visitors.

“I know you do. My beautiful cockslut. I love that you want it so badly. I’ll give it to you…” His words melted into her being as she felt a thumb brush against her ass, gently pressing in- and she was gone. He knew her weaknesses and this was one of the biggest.

Y/N’s brain could only focus on the pleasure. His hands on her and his growling, her cheek being pressed into the wood as she panted. She’d probably have bruises on her hip bones but she’d wear them with pride. It felt like she was just a hole to fuck and that’s how she wanted it. Letting him use her and reaping the benefits of his primal instincts raising up with his pretty mate splayed out for him. She lost count of the moans she let out as her nails sharpened, scratching the side of the desk as she began to feel his knot.

“Please Alpha, Please, please, please, I want it.” Her pathetic mewls only seemed to spur him on. “I want your knot, I want your cum, please give it to me. Give it to me, give it… I’ll be your good girl, I’ll be your bitch, please-” Y/N sobbed into the wood as he pounded her into her end. She squirted, releasing a gush of wetness over his thighs and trickling down her own as her thighs shook, a high pitched sound leaving her mouth as she felt him give one sharp thrust to be filled with his knot.

She felt it expand, her whimpery mess of a face being pulled up slightly as he folded his body on top of her, grinding inside of her cunt to continue her orgasm and work his cum inside of her. “There you go, goddess. Perfect little breeding bitch, s’what you are. Made to take my knot, my cum, my children.” He growled, babbling as his teeth grazed her mark and made her shudder. His eyes flashed before he closed them, grabbing her hair in his fist and angling her mouth so he could kiss her with the grumbles in his chest calming to a purr as he was stuck with her. Her orgasm had splashed all over the both of them, his balls and thighs wet and her poor cunt stretched and full. Her ass would need a salve from his spanking, but that’s how he knew it was good. She’d been flaunting herself around his office for a reason, and now they were both sated… for a while, anyways.

“I love you.” She slurred, bleary eyes looking up at him. “Love you Alpha.” Her sweet words softened his heart, a fond smile tilting up the corners of his lips. No matter how rough he went on her during sex, this woman was his soul mate. His goddess. No one could ever comprehend how much he loved her.

“I love you more than the moon and the stars.” He whispered, nudging his nose against hers sweetly. “My sweet Goddess. You own me.”

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Sideways waltz

summary: Price wakes up with a boner and with you sleeping right next to him he can't help himself.

pairing: cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine universe)

tags/tw: afab!reader, mention of canon related injury, NSFW, mdni 18+ please and thank you, clothed grinding, slight somno (consensual), p in v, teasing, unprotected sex, creampie, implied age-gap, Price's pov

a/n: sigh, I wish Price could start my mornings like this

Sunshine universe MASTERLIST & John Price MASTERLIST

It wasn't unusual for Price to wake up before you. If anything, it was the typical routine. 

If he felt cheery enough and if it wasn't the typical British weather outside, he could fill the time between his and your sleeping schedule with a run. Other times, if his body was sore after deployment or the weather was far from perfect —because he dealt with enough piss-poor climates while out in the field to willingly venture into one while at home— he would stay inside, either right by your side or in an adjacent room.

With the hazardous melting of snow outside and his injury, Price was less willing to leave the warmth of sharing a bed with you. The past month was proof, as he more or less found himself right by your side as you woke up every day. 

It settled a comfort in his body, one that eased his sharp wake-ups dwelling from deployment. Rather than rousing quickly and clearly with a single opening of his eyes, it was a gradual rising to consciousness, one where he felt his surroundings before observing them— the warmth wrapped around him, the softness giving away beneath the weight of his body, the dull discomfort that grew more tolerable each week beneath his skin.

What was neither as peaceful nor as common was that he woke up due to a raging boner. 

It was the first thing Price felt as his consciousness slipped closer, and sleep gave way to his senses. A prickling heat in his limbs. The throbbing between his legs. The uncomfortable restrainment of his underwear. All sensations that made him irritably groan in his emerging slumber. 

There were few times he woke with a hard-on. Long over and done with the near-everyday occurrences during his teen years. And less, but still remarkably often, during his twenties. He had grown out of it due to age and the military, or so he thought. 

Since getting together with you, Price has found himself waking up with a morning wood much more than he likes to admit. Sometimes, it happened when he'd spent the day with you before deployment, and his mind didn't register that he was on duty again but expected you nuzzled close within his frame. But most of the time, it happened when you were sleeping by his side. 

You never seemed to mind if you woke to find his cock rock hard against you. You would only giggle in that newly woken-up fashion that made you seem even softer, somehow finding a way to wiggle closer to him no matter how close you were and with a light, musing voice comment on how 'someone seems excited for this early in the morning'.

Despite always considering it a nuisance, Price couldn't complain all too much about the soft morning sex that always followed. Everything was unhurried, the both of you still waking up. 

It was at the top of his ways to indulge in your sweet body, having you so pliant and submissive as you allowed him to pull you close, gentle noises spilling from your lips as he most often slid into you from behind.

In the rare instance you'd woken up facing each other, he got to meet your half-lidded eyes so lovingly gazing at him while that little furrow between your brows and parted lips told him how good it felt to start the day just like that. 

And you never failed to mention just how much you loved waking up to him touching your body with a spent smile and eyes still closed as you returned from your high.

As on cue, you were the second thing his gradually awakening mind registered. 

Price felt your warmth much further away than he desired. When his eyes ultimately opened with a heaved sigh, he found you in a similar side-ways position as him, facing away as the covers reached your ribcage. You were still soundly asleep, even and deep breaths whispering you were none the wiser of his situation.

It was never hard to lean over, loop his arm around your waist, and slide you over to him, like it was the natural cause of action from how it settled a deep, sated feeling in his chest and from how you always settled right against him as if your unconscious knew what was happening, fidgeting until you settled with a heavy sigh and went still again. 

God, Price loved how perfectly you fit against him, his thick bicep filling the dip of your waist as he burrowed his face into your neck.

He inhaled deeply, your hair tickling his cheeks much softer than what his beard on the daily must do to you. You smelled fresh —your body-wash from the night before still lingering— and something inherently sweet that always lingered on your skin. Price could drown in your scent that clouds his mind with pleasant thoughts and memories. All of which intensifies the heat in his gut, the throbbing need making his cock twitch.

The first roll of his hips is unconscious, but the relief it brings makes the second a chase for more. 

It's a dull pleasure, the worn-soft material of his underwear an unwanted barrier as Price rubs himself against your backside. And yet, he finds himself unable to push any clothing aside, still drowsy and desperate enough that he only shuffles his hips, angling himself to grind just beneath the swell of your ass.

Price shudders at the sensation, expertly muffling his groan not to ring too loudly this close to your ears. It's addicting. You are addicting, you and your soft, warm body with no choice but to accept his lust-stricken action.

He shuffles impossibly closer, momentarily dropping his hand to shift himself in his pants so his member slots between your thighs. 

Price needs to bite his lip forcefully as his eyes press harshly shut, his sharp exhale disturbing your hair when the head of his cock juts against your panty-covered core. 

With the groan brewing in his throat, hand fisting the dark shirt covering your body, he moves his lips to your nape, occupying himself by kissing you gently as he starts moving his hips, thick cock twitching between your thighs. 

More, he needs to feel more.

Price rucks up your, his, sleeping shirt to worm his way beneath it. Your smooth skin makes him exhale gruffly, stomach clenching, hips jumping. So unbelievably soft. 

He feels the flush heating your unconscious body as he trails his palm upwards until his big hand settles over your breast. A warmth radiates off of your skin as he gently kneads the soft flesh in his palm, tweaking your nipple into a stiff peak until paying equal attention to the other.

A soft sound escapes you, a low whine stuck in your chest. It doesn't deter Price. If anything, it sends a shiver down his spine, causing his fingers to pinch your nipple just a tad bit harder. 

He grinds more directly against you now, the tip of his cock knocking against your entrance and sliding along the covered heat of your pussy, presumably knocking against your clit from how your body twitches and legs clamp together.

The groan he's been holding off claws out of his chest, guttural and pleasured as your soft flesh nearly traps him between your thighs so perfectly when he rocks his hips. However, his action finally ceases when you continue to stir, your body squirming and breaths switching from deep to stuttering. 

"Mm... John?" Half a pitch deeper and much quieter as you rise from a dream state, your voice made him curl his arm tighter around you, fingers digging into your breast still in his grasp.

"G'mornin'". Price knew you liked the roughness of his morning voice, now no different as he catches your wordless, whine-like reply. 

Coming to, you writhe in his arms, hands extending forward then upwards before your body roll as you stretch like a cat. 

When your hips rock backwards in your attempt to fend off the sleep in your limbs, the flex of your ass —just an inch, a sweet, sweet inch— has you stilling suddenly, without a doubt feeling the stiffness forced almost between your asscheeks by the angle of his hips and the groan he releases into your hair.

Price feels you take a deep breath, now possibly also noticing his hand on your chest from the added weight. If you'd been facing him, he reckons he would've seen the slow smile spreading on your lips that he now hinted at in your voice as your hand dropped to trail along the skin of his arm not hidden beneath your clothing.

"That's why you're still in bed?"

"Didn't feel like goin' on a run", he humours you lowly. Your chuckle is faint, but he feels it vibrate against his hand.

"Because you wanted some help with that?" You grind backwards.

He answers by knocking his hips forward in return, cock prodding into your crotch from behind once more. You inhale, a swift heave of your chest beneath his hand. Price feels how your cunt throbs and your thighs squeeze, humming contently.

"Did I wake you?"

"Yeah", your voice is gentle, senses concentrating on his hand running down your body.

"Sorry", his apology is christened with a low 'fuck' as his hand slips beneath your panties, feeling your heat radiate against his palm.

"Mm, know I don't -oh", a soft moan breaks your drawled sentence when his fingers find your clit. "Yeah, mhm, don't mind", you finish the sentence breathily as Price starts circling your bundle of nerves.

He coaxes the deep, airy breaths from your lungs along the gentle rocking of your hips as he circles his middle finger over your clit. Your shifting working wonders to grind yourself on his cock.

He sits hot and hard between your legs, wetness seeping through his underwear, a combination of his precum and the slick already having soaked through your panties. The damp fabrics convey the illusion he's got fewer layers between your dripping cunt and his throbbing cock.

"John..." you moan, not continuing your sentence as your hands find his wrist, pushing his hand further into your heat with just a fraction of your usual strength, hinting at your still partly-woken state, all while swivelling your hips to have him push right against your entrance repeatedly.

Your urge is all Price needs to pull his hand from your underwear —amusedly sushing your whining complaint as he stops playing with your clit— to pull his pants down and kick them off his legs. Without the confines of his underwear, he notices his tip is flushed a scarlet pink, dribbling pre-cum. 

Hooking your panties aside, he twitches in his fist as he guides himself down the curve of your arse as you arch your spine so prettily for him. 

Price grunts deeply as he rocks his hips, now without any of the layers between you keeping him from your wet heat. You stutter out and exhale as he bumps your clit with his rocking while coating himself in the wetness already covering your thighs.

The way the wet walls of your pussy give way to his girth when he finally notches himself against your entrance and pushes in is heavenly. Your drooling heat a silk fist unbelievably softer than his calloused fist ever could come close to.

He grunts something into your skin —praise, he reckons, for opening up to him so good despite nothing more than the unconscious prepping of your body— but can't even dissect precisely what he says himself. But the sound is enough for you as you fidget in return, walls clenching around him in tandem with your already consumed whines as he fills you up.

As he hilts himself, he stays put for a moment, eyes closed, revelling in how tightly you're squeezing him, how close your body presses against his, how your breaths are soft even if they're shaky.

The first few rocks of his hips are slow, a grind more than anything. Deliciously making him slide into your sweet spot on both the drag back and push forth. It has your face shoving into the pillow, sounds muffled as you moan into the fabric.

"Let me hear you", he breathes against the back of your neck as his arm —which up until now had been resting beneath the pillows, clutching the feathery cushioning— moves beneath your neck, anchoring around your upper chest, making his forearm rests right along your clavicle, as Price tugs you flush against his chest. 

His strength overpowers yours any other day, but the difference shines even brighter in your present state, as you can't resist him when he forces you out of your hiding. 

Your soft breaths and moans fill the air as you let yourself be moved by him, head notching backwards against his shoulder.

His hips move slowly still, pausing with a dirty grind when he bottoms out, the hair on his arms standing up when you whine so wantonly when he hits your pleasurable spots. Yet, he moves with purpose when your hands attempt to wrap around his forearm, fingers not even brushing as your nails crest his skin. 

Price slides the hand that has been lodged between your waist and the bed down your body, groping his way over your hip down to your thigh, gripping the soft inner flesh as he directs your leg up and backwards over his leg. 

It opens you up, tilting your body backwards against his front, making him sink even deeper into you. 

He can't contain his growl of pleasure, mouth falling open, warm breath fanning over your shoulder as his teeth gently dent your skin.  

You're partly laying on top of him at this point, half your body elevated from the mattress, cushioned instead by his body. His hips are more beneath you than aligned from behind, the position helping him persistently fuck himself deep.

Price embraces your weight more steadily by once again curling an arm around your mid-drift, elated when your arm curls backwards —tentatively to not knock against his still healing shoulder— and somehow reaches around his neck, submitting yourself to the weightlessness of him propping you up.

Digging his heels into the bed, he snaps his hips upwards. He groans in pleasure when you squeeze him so tight, his head pressing backwards against the pillows. You're in no better state. Sleep a memory as the same need that had woken him guides your hand down your body. 

Price senses your fingers as they reach your cunt, a finger settling on either side of where he spreads you open, a pitched moan deflating your lungs as you feel how he repeatedly enters you. His thighs quiver, your much cooler fingers a stark, but not unpleasant, contrast compared to your indulgingly warm cunt. 

As you press against the sides of his shaft, feeling the way you clutch to him each time he pulls out, Price knows you disturb the creamy ring that's gradually been developing at the base of him. The messy mixture of fluids now coating your entrance, much like the slickness seeping down the crack of your ass paints his abdomen.

And then your fingers shift upwards, playing with your clit. You grow louder, keening at the added sensation, and Price groans at how the squelching sound of your wet pussy grows when you clench around him. 

His beard scratches your ear when he angles it towards you. Although feeling how you twitch at the rough sensation, your body is lax enough that you can't escape it, having Price smiling as he speaks.

"Yeah? That what you needed, love?" Your body attempts to arch, shivering in his hold as he husks the words against the shell of our ear. He doesn't let up on his grip around your waist, forcing you down against him, moulding your body to his as he speeds up his thrusts as if punishing you. "Feels good, does it?" His groaned sentence fades at your moaned 'mhm' as you flutter around him.

He puts more force behind his thrusts, rutting against harshly enough for a slapping sound to fill the room, only muted by the covers still covering your lower bodies. You gasp, clenching hard around him, hurtling his edge dangerously close as he feels you shiver with pleasure.

And then everything grows too blindingly good that the muscles at the back of Price's neck tense before going lax, making him angle his face into the side of your neck, grunting against your skin. The centre point between his shoulder-blades tenses, and a warm shiver runs down his back while his stomach clenches and something in his toes tingles. 

Price releases a hoarse groan, his orgasm rolling through his body well before the last drive forward of his hips as he continues rocking into you, barely pulling back, hitting that deepest part inside you, messily coating himself with the cum filling you.

As he leaves his cock to settle inside you, twitching in the warm aftermath, you grind backwards and continue to chase the high that he usually spoils you with reaching first. He feels your desperation, the flexing of your ass, the twitch of your legs that can't close from how he keeps you spread. 

With a lazy smirk, his hand moves beneath yours, overtaking and matching the frantic speed of your fingers with his own to let you concentrate solely on the pleasure, making you shiver, and your hips squirm.

You release a broken moan before going silent as you come. If not for how your hand shoots to his, attempting to still his movements, and Price's arm flexing to keep you grounded against his front, you would've curled to your side from how violently you squirmed.

Your body blankets his in a comfortably added weight as you gasp for air, your body twitching as he treats you to a dragged-out release by rolling your engorged clit between his fingers. 

It's not until he lets up on his overstimulated teasing, which has your walls massaging his gradually softening cock, that your high ebbs and your entire body seemingly loosens.

Your overstimulated chokes and whines fade, much like the weight of your body as you slump to the side the same second Price straightens his leg, and yours slide down from his thigh.

His arm, still trapped beneath your head, is bathed with your warm breaths. Price rolls with you, spooning you from behind by slotting his knees to the back of yours and enveloping you with his arm, heavy over your waist.

His lips graze your clothed shoulder, pressing kisses until he nuzzles into your neck. You don't speak, and neither does he. 

Price catches your breathing, much more laboured and deep than the one fanning back into his face. He can practically envision how your face presses into the mattress, eyes closed, features blissfully relaxed as you try to wring your mind back in place and out of the messy cloud of pleasure you're floating on. 

When you finally catch your bearings, you push yourself against his chest, upper body no longer slumped forward. 

The slight shift makes Price slip out of you. Though spent, he immediately twitches against your thigh upon feeling the warm aftermath that leeks from between your legs. 

Your frame shakes against his seconds before you twist in his embrace to face him.

Your eyes are droopy, barely open as they flutter to meet his gaze through the stray strands of hair covering your face. He brushes away the worst of your unruly curtain, uncloaking your glowing skin, only softened further by the quirk at the edges of your lips.

"Can't be ready for another round that quickly?" Your voice is gritty, not entirely in your power to make it even as pleasure is still evident in the edges.

"Gimme a minute, and we'll... see." His sentence becomes something muttered before the last word, its entirety shorter than when correctly spoken. 

His body is heavy, sleep closer now than previously, pleasured stained content making him lazy. And he knows you see it, notices the mock behind his words as his hand doesn't travel down your body but comfortably stays tracing shapes against the small of your back. 

You chuckle softly, leaving the first of many kisses against his lips for the day. The peck is soft, making him hum as you leave another against the tip of his nose before nuzzling beneath his chin and into his chest. It is the perfect position for Price to press a kiss against your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin as he can't bother pulling away when you sigh blissfully against him.

[lex-the-flex]

Fantasize

Old Man!Logan x reader

Warning(s): None, just adding more to the pile of Logan Howlett smut because it’s my only way to cope sometimes. 18+ – SMUT: Unprotected sex, (srsly wrap it before you tap it) skin and body appreciation, Logan talks you through it, basically the slow life. Reader is in their 30’s. SMUT BELOW THE LINE. NOT PROOFREAD!!

The fresh scent of hot coffee lingers through the air of the small kitchen whilst the early morning sunshine peeks in from the garden. The soft cooing of the occasional mourning dove broke the grand silence of the woods beyond the small cabin that you and Logan called home.

Tearing the white Henley from his chest, Logan tosses his hat and gloves to the other side of the living room. The sight of his broad, yet scarred muscles still made your heart swoon for the man you called your husband. Unzipping the button of his worn out jeans, Logan walks backwards, and into his favorite armchair.

Pulling you closer, you sit on Logan’s lap, moving the fabric of your nightdress out of the way. Running your fingers through Logan’s salt and pepper hair, his hazel eyes watch you intensely, overcome by your shared intimacy. Gripping his shoulders, a quick glance of doubt crosses over your face.

“You’ve got this, darlin’.” He says, reassuring you.

Carefully positioning yourself over Logan, he guides your hips over his own, allowing you to feel the weight of his manhood. Teasing your throbbing folds with his erect tip, a gasp escapes your lips. Slowly sinking into him, Logan sits up and bites your lip, releasing an intimate moan into the room. Thrusting your hips deeper into Logan, he buries his face into your neck. Collapsing your hands around his neck, his unkempt scruff tickles the sensitive skin of your collarbones.

Moaning at the different sensations happening simultaneously, Logan’s lips find the bottom of your earlobe, and he playfully bites it. Knowing how to set you off, a strong and fiery heat begins to rise up in your stomach.

“I’m here, bub. Let it out.” Logan whispers in your ear.

Leaning further into Logan, you practically hug him tighter than you ever have before. Pulling him closer into your neck, his hands wander over the smooth skin of your back. Your core starts to light up upon your own release and the airways of your lungs become clogged with ecstasy.

Soaking in the remnants of your orgasm, Logan leans his head back to observe how beautiful you are in the sun.

“Do you know how long I’ve fantasized about this? A fucking long time.” He admits.

“Don’t dwell on the past, Logan. I’m here now, and that’s all that matters.” You reply, leaning your forehead against his.

“And I love every second of it, Y/N.” Logan confesses.

Running his fingers through your hair, he touches the tip of your nose with his own, earning him the peaceful sound of your laughter to echo throughout the house.

wolverine taglist ~

@dreamliners

@chronicallybubbly

@dontfeedthebigbadwolf

@the-resident-vampire

@ovaryacted

@yellow-eyed-sams-wife

@lost-in-horrorland

@peterparkernotfound

@pcrushinnerd

@quillycrow

@till-hes-90

@the-moth-archives

@stilllivindue2spite

@wolviesgf

[lovebugism]

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face. 

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand. 

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands. 

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch. 

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later. 

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown. 

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her. 

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices. 

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh. 

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life. 

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking. 

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go. 

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place. 

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year. 

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

[sleeping-sirens]

morning with san ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

pairing : choi san x f reader.

genre : non idol au, established relationship, newlyweds au, mature, fluff, the morning after. (minors dni pls, or it’ll make me feel uncomfortable)

word count : 1k words.

note : this is my first work for ateez, pls be nice 🥹 and this is pretty much VERY self indulgent lol

masterlist

when he is asked about love, there are a plenty of things that san can think of. his family, his hometown, his hobbies, his friends and everything that contributed and still contributes in making him the person he is today.

but when his mind is stirred awake from his sleep and the rays of sunshine dimmed by the dark beige curtains penetrate his eyelids, his mind is blank.

it’s empty, almost numb. he’s at peace. and he’s happy.

all he can hear is silence, except for his heartbeat resonating deep inside his ears. a deep breath is taken all the way in and he’s feeling liberated, stripped from any heaviness that comes with life.

no thoughts weigh on his mind, or his heart or his entire body that feels like a heap of feathers on top of the softness of the bed.

it takes him a moment to open his eyes, even if he is eager to explore his surroundings, discover new feelings and create new habits now that his life has changed. for the better, he claims. with you.

he doesn’t rush because he feels like something deep inside his chest would burst once he lays his eyes on you. and he wishes he was exaggerating.

he wants to slowly savor the feeling of sleeping with remnants of you, of waking up next you, of seeing you curled up next to him, body still, calm, glowing, beautiful.

when he finally opens his eyes, what he sees exceeds his expectations by a thousand of deep breaths, a million of shooting stars and a billion of blazing fireworks. you’re there, he still can’t believe it but you’re there. on his bed, beside him and his. for life.

san presses his lips together, tongue swiping against his lower lip and he’s reminded of what happened the night before. when he showed you his love in more ways than one. when he painted your body with promises of care and devotion. when he tainted your soul with everything that is him.

you’re there, your bare back is facing him and traces of love are littering your skin. he smiles, eyes crinkling and dimples popping, a sigh leaving his lips and a hand placed on his raging heart that he thinks might turn to liquid from how much he loves you.

his eyes trail on your figure, the light blanket sitting dangerously low on your body, leaving nothing to his imagination. the valley of your hips sitting high and dipping into your inviting thighs, eyes staring a bit too long at your ass.

san stifles a little moan, dying it down with a deep breath that ends with a small hint of a groggy purr. it’s early in the morning and he can’t seem to calm down himself, his own body aching to hold you, be close to you, to own you.

without thinking—he always seems to never think when he’s around you—he stretches his arm out and let his fingers gently graze against your skin. you’re cold under his warm touch, goosebumps instantly forming. hot blood races through his veins and down his already loaded morning wood. puffs of breath escape his lips as he draws a pattern with his fingertips from the middle of your back, and down, down, down. until his entire hand is covering your ass cheek.

“it tickles,” you say, a breathy chuckle airing from your chest.

“did i wake you?” san asks softly. he comes closer to you and nuzzles his nose deep into your neck. the hand that was pressed on your bottom slithers up and around and settles in the soft crevice of your lower stomach, fingers brazenly reaching lower.

you shake your head. your breath stuck in your chest, sending you into a dizzy state. “no, i was awake.”

he hums softly into your skin, before pressing your lower body closer against him. his lips place feverish kisses on your neck, arriving at the slope of your shoulders and down your arms.

you instinctively lean into him, ass molding gently against his hard dick.

“babyyy,” he whimpers, his brain already turning into mush.

you giggle at him. “hm?” you jokingly answer. and san is incapable of forming one coherent sentence. all he can think about is you, mind clouded with you, your skin, you warmth, your body, your smell, his smell on your body and your ass pressing into him.

“can i?” a pause, then a sigh, then a whine. “can we…?”

you turn to him smiling when you see his face crumpling into the most defeated expression ever. cheeks flushed, eyes glossy.

you wrap your hand around his face and place gentle kisses on his lips. one after the other, softly. calming the ripples of chaos in his mind, or so you thought. he only grows eager, needy, demanding.

his hands caress all over your body, fingers curling into the inside of your knee and hooking your leg around him, his dick pushing into your pussy in a hurried action. his hips start bucking into you with every push of his lips on you, swallowing your hisses and breaths, inhaling your moans, intoxicating himself with you.

but he’s soft. despite all his fierce emotions, he’s gentle with you, so gentle he makes you melt. he makes your soul turn into liquid gold. you’re his prized possession. his treasure.

when you try to pull away to catch your breaths, san’s head duck lower down your chest and between your breasts. he’s heaving, mind racing and heart beating so fast. he holds you close, telling himself to slow down, reminding himself that he doesn’t want to rush with you now that you’re his.

he vowed to keep you by his side, to love you and protect you and he will do just that.

and without him asking twice, or even once, you give him everything and he takes it. he takes, doubles it and gives it to you. without a doubt.

when he is asked about love, there are a plenty of things that san can think of. his family, his hometown, his hobbies, his friends and everything that contributed and still contributes in making him the person he is today.

but when it comes to you, his mind is blank. a white canvas, ready to be painted by you.

note : i originally had this idea for mingi but san is clouding my mind rn so i couldn’t help it 😭😵‍💫this was so difficult for me to write because my mind and thoughts are full of him rn oof🥲 pls like and reblog if you enjoyed reading <33

[mediumgayitalian]

The best part of being his own camp counsellor is that he can wake up whenever the fuck he likes.

Nico’s a fan.

Because, however, his dumb ass made friends with the camp’s head medic, he doesn’t get to sleep in as often as he would like. He is instead often woken up before the clock strikes nine, which is a tragedy and one of the forty thousand reasons he is going to be present on Will’s judgement day. (The scales tip any which way on a regular basis, but as of last week, Will is going to hell. Unfortunate. Nico’ll still visit him, though. Bring him one half of a twizzler or something.) So when he wakes up, one lovely morning, mouth tasting like something rotted in it and sun well past halfway across the sky, he is capital-C Concerned.

What a horrible tragedy that is. Finally, for the first time in months, he was able to sleep in. And his first thought is not gratitude. Solace may indeed have to die — Nico was not this way before he started planting his annoying ass front and centre in Nico’s life. He’s quite fairly certain he used to be frightening and badass. Now Will orders him to drink milk for the sake of his calcium and he does. Gods.

“Morning,” he hedges, approaching the archery range, feeling marginally more alive than twenty minutes prior.

Kayla raises an amused eyebrow. “Dude, it’s, like, two.”

“Well fuck you, then.”

She smirks. “Aw, did baby not get his Sunshine fix of the day? Is that why he’s so grumpy?”

It really sucks that Will is so fond of his siblings. Nico wonders if Will would still like him if he knew how many times he daydreams of transporting Kayla onto the moon per day.

“As soon as I figure out which god would appreciate you as a sacrifice, you’re gone.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorts, turning away and lining up an arrow. She lets it fly, watching as it shaves a splinter off a hunk of wood fifty feet away. “You couldn’t get close enough to kick my ass before I’d skewer you, di Angelo.”

Remembering the warning arrow Kayla had shot through his shoulder last week, he wisely chooses not to press the matter any further. The power visibly goes to her head. Fuck.

“Just — tell me where Will is.”

“Why?” She strings another arrow. The grin on her face is a level of shit-eating that Nico has only before seen on a Stoll. She should spend less time around Julia, or else the camp is in for some serious trouble. “What are your intentions with my dear brother?”

Nico, on principle, refuses to answer that question. Kayla shrugs, finishing her shot and then turning around to stick her tongue out at him.

“No answer, no location! Find him yourself, loverboy. And remember that I am always watching.”

Stomping away, and ignoring the smile twitching at his lips — she is so annoying, truly, gods above he owes Bianca a thousand apologies for ever opening his mouth — he heads towards the infirmary. There are only six locations Will is at any given time, after all, except when he disappears for several hours randomly but Nico doesn’t know how to bring that up yet. As he approaches the infirmary, though, he hears it absolutely blasting with music, like genuinely shaking the ground a little bit, and knows exactly where to find him.

As he approaches the door, wincing at the door, he finds it closed. Odd — Will likes a breeze when he works. Even odder is the hastily-written sign pasted onto it:

ANNUAL CLEAN OUT DAY. IF YOU NEED ME, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU NEED A BANDAID, TOUGH SHIT. IF YOU’RE BLEEDING OUT, CALL AN AMBULANCE AND PRAY. I AM BUSY.

(‘Busy’ is underlined three times.)

In smaller print, under the all-caps monstrosity, is:

Unless you’re Nico, in which case disregard the previous sentiment. No, Cecil, this does NOT mean you.

The note is written again in Ancient Greek, Latin, Spanish, Portuguese, French, Mandarin, Italian, Polish, Korean, Morse Code, and another ten languages Nico can’t even name. Actually, wait — the top left is Klingon. And middle right note does not appear to be language, showing instead a poorly drawn stick figure in armour being shoved into a cannon and shot into the sun by another poorly drawn stick figure in a lab coat. Nico loves a man who’s multi-talented, indeed.

Hesitantly, Nico cracks open the door. He is immediately assaulted by a solid wall of sound, and then nearly bowled over by the enigma himself, William ‘I Can Restructure A Human Brain But Cannot Tie My Shoelaces’ Solace. He catches himself at the last second, and then barely manages to catch Will, grabbing him around the waist just before his head hits the floor.

“Nico!” he shouts over the music, smiling brightly. “Hi! You’re here!”

“I’m here.” He can physically feel his voice cracking, but luckily the music drowns it out. Hopefully. “Uh, what’re you doing?”

“Cleaning!” Will straightens up, although he stays within the circle of Nico’s arms. Nico tries real hard to keep his gaze firmly planted on his face and not on the hands he still has in his hips. “I do it once a year, kick everybody out and deep clean the place. Helps keep it fresh and minimize the bloodstains on the floor.”

“Ah. And the music…”

“It’s fun!” Will shouts. He gasps when the CD player skips and a new song comes on, heavy base and funky synths blasting so hard the window panes shake. “Oh my gods! I love this one!” He turns his bright grin at Nico full force, absolutely no holdbacks on the dimples or freckles, gods help him, and bows cheekily. “Can I have this dance, good sir?”

“It’s Britney Spears’ Outrageous,” Nico protests weakly.

“Yeah!”

…Very, very weakly.

“…Okay.”

Will whoops, grabbing his hands and spinning him around. Nico yelps, nearly tripping over a cot, but when he looks back up Will has his eyes closed and is shimmying not unlike a worm on a fish hook, and it’s so ridiculous that he can’t help but laugh. Will pries one eye open, grinning widely, and shimmies harder.

“You’re such a dweeb!”

“Join me in the dweebiness! Free yourself!”

Nico rolls his eyes fondly, squeezing Will’s hand, and lets himself get ridiculous. He’ll deny it if anyone asks, but it’s fun.

…And not just because Will is next to him, smile brighter than any star, dancing like a massive dork, hand clasped in his.

[darylsdelts]

Guys imagine actually just being Daryl’s girl… like you’re his wife but unofficially and you live with him in a cabin in the woods. You’re still with the group but you just live separately since you and D prefer being alone together. You live by a beautiful lake and when it’s hot you go out there in the mornings, stripping your clothes off in the grass next to the water.

It’s a lazy day and Daryl wakes up after you which is unusual but when you’re not next to him he knows exactly where you are. He doesn’t put on any clothes to cover himself, just staying in his boxers because it’s just you two and you’ve been together for so long that now he’s completely comfortable with you. He grabs his crossbow and comes out to sit on the creaky wooden chair on the porch and watches you swim around in the sunshine. He could watch you all day.

Of course he keeps his crossbow right by him whilst he watches you, god forbid he relax for one second, he won’t give anything a chance to harm you, so much to the point he gets a little antsy when you swim a bit too close to the stinging nettles lining the far side of the small lake.

“Aye! Careful of the stingers!”

You push your wet hair out your face and spot him, you give a big grin and a cute little wave and he gives a small wave back. He knows you’re naked, he can see your clothes on the side but he’s not thinking anything unholy, just wondering how lucky he got to be able to sit and watch his girl be happy.

Eventually you get out, Daryl rolls his eyes once he realises you forgot a towel… again. He brought one out with him because he knows you too well.

Leaving his crossbow by his chair, he brings the towel over to you, wrapping you in it and holding you close whilst rubbing your back.

He kisses the top of your wet hair.

“Mornin’ sweetheart…”

——————————————————————————

This is what I meant when I said I’m gonna start just posting my thoughts. Make it up as I go along lmfao

[wordstome]

Satyr!König Headcanons

Yesterday I was talking with the lovely @kneelingshadowsalome about her satyr König au, and boy, did we cook. Good morning Finland, it's time to take some hairy goat man cock! (Most of these are adapted from our DMs! Headcanons in bold are by Salome, with minor changes)

It's just König's luck, really, for him to finally get his hands on a pretty little nymph to fuck and fill with his potent seed and she runs off on him! And now he's certain that she's hiding from him, which has him absolutely fuming. If she's going to play this little game, he'll just have to hunt her down...

Meanwhile, she’s freaking out because her monthly blood is very, very late, and she suspects that awful satyr is to blame. All her little nymph friends are sympathetic, but they did warn her!

She may be sulking about her predicament, but part of her becomes wildly jealous when she sees her friends are "torturing" the poor satyr. Never even wanted to see that big hairy pervert again, but also doesn't want others to frolick around him even if he's chained to a tree!

The little nymph does end up feeling sorry for the man, so when it's nighttime and all her friends have scurried away, she creeps up to him quiet like a mouse to free him. Of course, she ends up getting a pounding for all her troubles...what did she expect?

He's not making the same mistake letting her go again! He makes good on his promise to lick her to completion, and then she just curls up and falls asleep...silly, silly thing. Giving him the perfect opportunity to scoop her up and whisk her to his lair. Her fellow nymph sisters wail and cry and demand her return, but König's not telling where he's keeping her squirreled away.

She's stomping mad about her new situation. Not only is she separated from her sisters and unable to live free and wild in the sunshine as she used to, but she and König are always bickering and arguing, ending up more often than not with him folding her into a mating press...

She's offended when he brings her fresh meat to eat, which of course confuses him. He had only meant to show how strong and competent of a provider he is, hunting for his woman, but his difficult little nymph has the nerve to turn her nose up at it and scold him. Doesn't he know nymphs only eat berries and flowers and other gifts that the earth gives to nourish them?

Of course she tries to break out of the dark woodland prison he's keeping her in, but the first time he catches her, he only gives her a terrible smirk and shows her the exit. She's welcome to leave, but he lives in the dark, deep part of the woods that the nymphs don't dare trespass in, where hungry wolves and other awful satyrs live...

Naturally, she would never risk being caught and taken to some other horny satyr's lair. At least here he gives some care to her wellbeing and all the attention a sulky little nature spirit could want...

He is trying, she supposes...he's stopped bringing her all that awful bloody meat to eat, he makes her a soft little bed of grasses and flowers to sleep on, and treats her like a fussy little princess. But she can't start growing fond of him...!

König, meanwhile, is on cloud nine with his pretty little nymph. she stays right where he wants her, always pouting and mewling for his attention, and only fusses a little bit when he warms his cock inside her. what more could a nasty satyr like him even want?

It becomes endearing, how well he provides all she asks for. Not that she's ever going to show her feelings to him of course. Just happens to twirl the hair on his chest around her fingers before she falls asleep on his lap...

Falling for this nasty old faun isn't what she signed up for when she straddled him that day. But she also can’t complain, because he is good with that tongue of his…

So good she can't even find it in herself to be mad when he pervs on her when she's resting and trying to get some sleep:

It’s nighttime when she’s woken up with a start. Probably just König back from a hunt, hopped up on adrenaline and ready to breed her again. But to her horror, it’s some other strange faun man, leering at her with dubious intent. Turns out there are downsides to making your little pet nymph scream with pleasure every night: namely, that the wrong person might hear...

Ordinarily, she would have no trouble fleeing or fighting back, but she’s just not used to the dark wood and hard packed dirt of this part of the forest, and finds herself frozen with terror as the stranger approaches her. He’s nowhere near König’s size, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be giving her a tough time.

Then she hears a very familiar roar, but this time it’s not of frustration or pleasure as she's used to hearing it, but raw anger, and she knows her satyr is back and very much not pleased to find an intruder menacing his little nymph. Nymphs are no lightweights when it comes to offensive magic in their arsenal, of course: König's already learned that the hard way. But they call him the king for a reason...his powers are a different ballpark entirely.

The intruder barely has time to beg for his life when König is summoning forth thick, thorny vines to ensnare him, causing the other satyr to holler in pain. The nymph knows what's about to come, and stuffs moss into her ears just as the sound of pan flutes fills the air. She watches in a mix of horror and intrigue as the intruder writhes and panics, tearing himself to shreds on the thorns...

It's over quickly, and the whole ordeal sends her trembling into her soft little bed of moss and grass. There's a brief period of time where she knows König is disposing of what's left of the intruder, and then she feels his gentle touch on her back.

She sniffles as she meets his adoring, half-crazed gaze. She knows she should be petrified of him, considering she just watched him drive another man to such madness that he ended his own life in the most painful manner possible. He's rubbed off on her in a terrible way, though, because all she can think of doing is spreading her pretty legs for him...

Haha anyway hope you guys enjoyed those headcanons! Maybe König's satyr madness will seize me again sometime and I'll write more :)

PS. The Greek god Pan, who is very notably depicted as a satyr, is known for two things that he lent his name to: pan pipes and the word panic. The origin story of the pan pipes is that he was chasing a nymph, who turned herself into reeds to escape him. He then proceeded to turn those reeds into an instrument he could put his lips all over....nasty!

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter Three

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu@v-sh @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags may not have worked, I'm sorry if so.)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

WARNINGS: none for now

Previous Chapter: Chapter Two

Next Chapter: Chapter Four

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: I worry that maybe these birds don’t fit their counterparts well, since no one correctly guessed them all ;-; I made Riddle a flamingo only because of the Queen of Hearts’ flamingos, and I thought he’d like to be one, if he had to choose LOL

Note 3: You have probably already guessed that the heart system means how quickly they’re becoming yandere. Please keep in mind some with gain hearts faster or slower than the others.

—----------------------------------

Today would be a more relaxed day, as you only had one exhibit to visit. The birds were all separated by wire fences, but they were all part of one big aviary. Tomorrow, you’d be working with the three remaining exhibits all at once, so you were glad to have this day of respite.

The bird keeper was a kind older lady. She gave you a bunch of salads, with notes as to which one belonged to which bird. The salads with shrimp were obviously for the flamingos, but the other salads were a bit harder to remember.

You walked into the aviary, a large plastic container with the separate salads under your arm. The birds were all wide awake, with the exception of the owl, whose green hair was just barely visible from where he had covered his head with one of his wings to sleep.

“Hey! I want to eat first!” A voice cried out to you, “Hey, lady with the food, over here!”

You were surprised to hear such fluent English from a halfling, but when you turned your head to the source of the calls, you immediately understood.

Parrot halflings caught onto human languages quickly. That didn’t necessarily make them smarter than other halflings, it was simply something they were naturally good at. This parrot halfling had mostly-orange wings to match his hair, although the tips of his wings tapered off to yellow and then a vibrant blue. 

The parrot gazed at you curiously for a moment, before his expression became more mischievous, “Guten morgen? Ohayo? Buen día? Zǎoshang hǎo? Dobroye utro?”

“Good morning to you too, show off,” you laughed, walking up to him, “I assume you’re the salad with sunflower seeds?”

He grinned, “That’s me! I’m starving!”

You felt like you were talking with a human, and that fact made you feel a little sick inside. Should an animal with the ability to converse so normally really be confined to a wire cage?

You rummaged through the plastic container, looking for the salad with seeds. The parrot halfling spread his beautiful wings and flew onto a perch closer to you, his talons curling around the wood as he impatiently waited for his meal.

Finally, you found the correct salad and handed it over to him. His eyes lit up and he snatched it from you.

“Thanks!” He said with a grin. Before you could ask him his name, he spread his wings and flew into an enormous birdhouse to eat there. A little disappointed that you couldn’t have a conversation with him, you turned to the raven in the cage next to him.

“Hello! I brought you a salad!” You called out to the raven halfling. He walked over to the edge of the exhibit and tilted his head, looking you over curiously. 

You found his salad fairly quickly, as it was accented with bright red apple slices. The raven drew closer and you admired how his feathers and matching hair color were not black, but a dark blue that seemed to shine in the early sunlight. 

“What’s your name?” You asked as he took the salad from you.

He grabbed the salad and held it close to him, as though someone may steal it. It took him a few moments to process your question before he answered, “Deuce.”

You knew that ravens were normally very intelligent animals. But with the way Deuce took so long to answer and the way he struggled with the plastic packaging, you had a feeling that the same could not be said for the halflings.

Deuce struggled with the packaging a little while more before he handed it back to you and, with a blush settling on his cheeks, muttered a small, “Help.”

You opened it for him with a smile, “No need to be embarrassed, Deuce, it can be tricky to open sometimes.”

He nodded, but you weren’t sure he actually understood you. Either way, he seemed happy enough to have his salad open for him. Similar to the parrot halfling, he retreated to his birdhouse to eat his meal.

You decided to try giving the owl his meal next, although you weren’t sure you would be able to wake him. You would feel bad if you disturbed his rest.

However, you had no need to worry, because the owl halfling was awake and alert when you approached his cage. You rummaged through the salads for the one with grilled chicken chunks in it and found it quickly. The other salads had either shrimp or were plain, saved specifically for the flamingos and peacocks respectively.

You handed over the chicken salad and the owl halfling smiled politely at you, giving you a gentle, “Thank you.” 

Unlike the parrot and raven halflings, he did not open his salad and dig in, but instead put it aside for later. Upon noticing your confused look, he explained, “I’m saving it for nighttime.”

You nodded but secretly wondered why they wouldn’t just feed him at night only. After all, that’s the time owls hunt. But you supposed it made it easier to just feed everyone at the same time instead of making any exceptions. 

Pretty lazy, in your opinion.

Next was the flamingos, and you approached their enclosure in awe. Their feathers were a soft, beautiful pink and, instead of the talons you were used to seeing on bird halflings, they had bare feet much like a human’s, just with webbing between the toes. 

“Shrimp salads, anyone?” You jokingly asked the two flamingos.

One of them, the one with light orange hair, flew over with such excitement that you took a step back, “You’re new!”

“Yes, I’m filling in for the morning meal today!” You said cheerfully.

“How exciting!” The flaming gasped, “That’s exciting, isn’t it, Riddle?”

The other flamingo, a more serious-looking man with red hair, cautiously watched you. He did not respond to the more enthusiastic flamingo.

“Let me just…” the orange-haired flamingo took a salad from you, opened the container, and began methodically arranging the shrimp and lettuce until it looked like it was something out of Chef Ramsey’s kitchen, “Perfect! Hashtag delicious!”

You stared at him, wondering where he’d learned to talk like a teenage girl. Riddle, annoyed by his fellow flamingo’s behavior, snapped at him, “You don’t have a phone. Stop with that ‘hashtag’ nonsense.”

You were shocked to hear a halfling besides a parrot speak so fluently, not to mention so prim and proper sounding. Handing over a salad to Riddle, you asked the other flamingo, “What’s your name?”

“Cater!” He said with a proud smile, as though his name was an accomplishment. You couldn’t help but giggle at his antics, which seemed to deepen Riddle’s frown.

“I have to give the peacocks their salads now,” you told Cater. 

“Bye-bye!” Cater said cheerfully, waving as you walked away.

The peacock enclosure was certainly something to behold. It had a huge fountain and ornate fencing. You tried to wave the three peacocks over, but they refused to come to you. Remembering what Mr. Crowley had said about them being a little cocky, you sighed and opened the gate.

You carried the large plastic container over to them and, with a smile, you held out a salad to the closest one. The tall flamingo gave you a disdainful look, but took the salad all the same. The one with a bowl cut took his with a closed-eyed smile, “Merci, mademoiselle.”

French? You wondered where he had learned French and if he spoke any English. Moving on from that thought, you handed the last salad over to a slightly timid-looking, small and adorable lilac-haired peacock.

All of the peacocks had beautiful white feathers in a fan shape protruding from their backs. You couldn’t help but admire them, despite the way they didn’t seem all too interested in you.

“What are your names?” You asked.

The one with blond-to-lilac hair turned his back on you and walked away with his salad. The one with completely lilac hair merely offered you an “Epel” before following after him.

The one with a bowl cut placed a hand on his chest and, with a large smile, introduced himself, “I am Rook,” He pointed at the retreating back of the first peacock and said, “Vil”.

“Vil is his name?” You clarified. Rook nodded in response. You wondered if he knew more French than English.

Either way, you were done feeding them for the day, so it was on to studying them.

[livinghostly]

hey there, sunshine — suguru geto x reader

a/n: not in love w this !! but couldn't get the idea out of my brain when i was trying to sleep. was also intended to be for choso but got too ooc sooooo wc: 2.3k yet another date didn't work out for you, and your roommate bears the burden of listening to all your complaints. he also may or may not have a crush on you. fluff/humor

the soft orange of the painted sky poured through your blinds, slipping through the cracks and almost deliberately shining down on your eyes that just barely peeked beneath your comforter. your curtains waved back and forth with the fan, soft whirrs that once lulled you to sleep now drawing you from your slumber with a ragged groan. far gone was the fulfillment of your soothing dreams, your memories running farther and farther away as you tried to recall them and sink yourself back into that peace of mind.

you screwed your eyes shut in defense from the harsh rays of the sun, huffing in the warmth of your pillow before lifting your head and sandwiching yourself against the mattress. your fists squeezed the pillowcase with irritation, pulling as hard as you could manage to encase you in the comfort of your bed. 

the birds chirped in unison, chattering as they built a nest on the apartment balcony your roommate refused to relocate (he called himself a humanitarian, but you were sure part of him refrained because he knew it bothered you). the slight creaks of your rotating fan were becoming more noticeable even as you tried to calm yourself back to sleep. you were uncomfortably warm now, the frustration culminating beneath your comforter and suffocating the air.

buzz.

your phone, shaking itself to life with a notification. you sighed.

buzz.

buzz.

you thrashed the bedsheets away from you, your pillows and plushies cocooning in your blankets landing on the ground with a soft thump. the palm of your hand slammed against the hollow wood of your bedside table in a blind rage, desperately scouring your clutter in an attempt to locate your phone.

finally, you dug your nails into the rubber case and snagged it from the charger with a thwack. you rolled over to your side, squinting at the sunlight as you turned it on. three new messages, and an aspiring text bubble all from one person.

080-7766-5289

hey 

good morning

would you want to get coffee with me?

the pondering text bubble finally popped, and your phone vibrated again.

maybe some breakfast too?

your groggy eyes glanced at the time. 8:23am. you barely had a chance to think through the onslaught of messages. the unrelenting number belonged to a guy you’d met at the bar last week, who was sweet enough for you to trade numbers with. last night had been your first date, a simple dinner and a movie.

unfortunately for him, you felt a better connection to the movie that night than to him. he was strangely stiff when you were around, answering any questions with caution that made you feel like an intruder for asking. comments and questions of his own were dry and anything but open-ended, his punctuation hanging in the stale air while you worked overtime to keep the conversation going.

it really didn’t seem worth it.

you shut off your phone and placed it on the table again, taking a deep breath. all at once, the scent of brewed coffee beans and pancakes wafted in from the kitchen. your stomach rumbled in response, mouth slightly watering as you came to terms with just how hungry you were.

you pulled yourself out of bed, dragging your feet along the plush carpet of the apartment. sluggishly, you ran your hands through your hair in an attempt to tame what mess it made of itself. it was cooler in the open loft, the windows propped open, welcoming the dewey air and various chattering of wild critters. those damn birds. 

your roommate, suguru, was in the kitchen, his back to you as he worked his magic on the stovetop in front of him. his red apron was tied into neat bows wrapped around his neck and his waist– the words ‘kiss the cook’ plastered in bold font on the front of it with puckered lips, a gag gift from gojo last christmas that he had now worn to the point of the ends being frayed and stained with various ingredients. 

he was wearing a black t-shirt that squeezed the tightness of his muscles, tense and working diligently as he flipped a pancake. his black basketball shorts hung loosely around his waist– surely thrown on haphazardly as he woke up –and he donned a pair of mismatched neon-striped socks. truly, a sight reserved for you, and only you.

on the island behind him, two steaming cups of coffee were presented next to empty plates. the pink one was yours, the black one was his. your utensils had a few extra napkins stuffed underneath them.

you make a mess one time and he can’t let it go.

he acknowledged your presence with a soft hum, before turning his head and offering a small smile. it was soft and captivating, just as he was. his charm washed over you as his gaze followed every part of your figure, raising a curious eyebrow at the sight of you missing a sock. nothing he hadn’t seen before, in fact, he’d seen you much worse and much more grumpy.

“good morning,” he said, his voice a low rumble. he met your tired eyes, taking in the delicate hues that warmed his skin. your eyebrows were still pinched together as you recovered from the confusion and discomfort of your untimely awakening. “rough night?”

“rough everything,” you huffed, grabbing your coffee and shuffling next to him. you hoisted yourself up to sit next to the stack of pancakes he’d created and leaned your head against the cabinets. 

suguru watched carefully as you took a sip of your coffee, a sense of pride fluttered in his stomach when a content smile graced your lips. his motions came to a slow stop as he stared you down. you paid him no mind as you wrapped both hands around the mug for warmth and basked in the taste again, then kept it close to your chest as you licked the sweetness off your lips. 

after many months, he’d refined your coffee blend to your ideal taste. pestering you each time if you liked it enough, or what he could improve on to make sure that his handiwork was no less than perfect in your eyes. he reveled in the way you adored his cooking, putting pieces of himself– his adoration, compassion, and sentiment –into his creations and curating your taste closer to his own. 

his grip on the spatula loosened, nearly slipping out of his hand and bringing him back to reality. 

suguru cleared his throat and resumed his task, sliding an additional pancake onto the tower, slowly but surely resembling the one of pisa. he kept his head low with a merciless blush refusing to back down. you didn’t notice. “did it not go well?”

“it was… fine, i guess.” you sighed, beginning to zone out as you stared down a picture frame hanging not too far away.

it was you and suguru, one of the first few nights you had finally gotten comfortable being around him and he’d invited you to meet his friends. more so, he begged you to come out of your room and gave you no room for escape when he sandwiched you between himself and the couch’s armrest. shoko took the photo, stealthily enough you didn’t realize it existed until you saw it hanging in the hallway.

suguru’s arm was thrown over the back of the couch, a lazy grin on his face as he looked at you. (gojo told him he looked goofy with that expression. lovestruck didn’t ‘suit’ him.) you couldn’t stop laughing at one of his many sly comments he’d whisper to you, covering your face as you cackled and peeked through them to get a look at him. his stare made your face burn hot and you kept it covered until gojo managed to grab everyone’s attention, like he always did.

it felt so long ago when suguru existed as your shy, withdrawn roommate who would stare at you with, seemingly, a dull interest when you spoke to him. despite his staring, he was always polite and considerate of your needs, your time, your privacy. he invited you to the food he’d make, setting aside extra servings for you. if you had already eaten, they’d go in the fridge with a sticky note on it.

then he was recording your shows, buying your snacks, anything he got for himself he seemed to get one for you as well, in a different color. it all came with ease, drawing you into his routines like he had his own gravitational pull and you were stuck in his orbit.

as he’d gotten to know you, he learned how spiteful you were to any form of change. you hated it when your go-to brands changed their packaging, when your restaurants were out of your preferred foods, or when your route to work was partially under construction. but you adjusted, without contest, to suguru’s rituals like it was nothing at all.

“i don’t know. maybe i’m being mean, but he was so, like, hard to talk to,” you shrugged. “it is so tiring to be the one doing all the talking.”

suguru doesn’t say anything, just nods.

“and then he texted me good morning. in what world are we in the good-morning-text phase?” you pouted, looking at him. “so weird. i barely know him.”

“and he asked me out for coffee. and breakfast. why would i do that?” suguru’s gaze flutters over you as you take a sip from your mug, his eyes lingering on the way you bite your lip in thought afterward. he chooses to stay quiet, inviting you to ramble for as long as you pleased, as long as he would be the one to hear your voice. “i don’t think i have the brainpower for either of those things and carrying an entire conversation on my back. it’s not even 9 in the morning.”

he turned the stovetop off, taking the pan over to the sink to wash. the mixing bowl and other utensils were taken care of earlier and already set aside on the drying rack, always so tidy.

“so, not well,” suguru concluded, his lips turning into a smirk. he teased, “i won’t get to meet him?”

“no, never. but also i got a free dinner and a movie out of it. so, something went right...” 

he chuckled. the one thing men are good for, you’d told him before. in that way, he really wasn’t any different from the rest of your roster. he supplied you with food and outings, and wouldn’t dream of you paying for them, paying no mind to the way you’d protest and nearly brawl at the register. 

suguru never met any of your dates, you’d disappear into the night– or days on end, not allowing them the gratification of crossing the threshold of your apartment.

he began to separate the pancakes onto your respective plates and set a small bowl of sliced fruit between them for you to share. he cleared his throat. “on to the next, then?” 

“maybe… i don’t know. the thought of going out and all the dates is just so exhausting.”

suguru hummed again. a man of few words. he liked the idea of you staying in– staying home, with him. he honestly wasn’t sure how many horrible date stories he could handle, you could do so much better. you deserved better, and he could give it to you.

he twirled his fork as you slipped behind him, gently caressing his back as you passed. a warm trail remained in the absence of your hand, burning into his skin before dissipating into nothing more than a longing to reel back into your embrace again. “are you still interested in that bodega that just opened up? i don’t want to exhaust you.”

“no, that's not…” you paused, slipping into your stool, mouth agape as you found your words. “it’s different, with you, you know. it’s easy.”

“i’m easy?”

it was too early in the morning for his games. you sputtered. “no– stop! that’s not what i’m saying.”

suguru chuckled. “we don’t have to call it a date, you know, if it makes it easier.”

“what?” you blinked, then narrowing your eyes at him. the sun from the loft brightened his toffee-colored eyes that bored into you expectantly, though not bothering to repeat himself. he’d rather watch you squirm while he kept that stupid grin on his face. “do you think you’re making me feel better?”

the gentle glow of his skin was unmatched to anything, or anyone, you’ve seen. his hair was unbrushed, the slight curls framing the sides of his face and tickling underneath his chin. he was always elegant. and pretty. unfortunately, he was just as aware as you were.

he shrugged half-heartedly, taking note of the way your fingers bounced your fork in the air as you stared. “don’t worry if you don’t want to go.”

“i do want to go.”

“so, it’s a date, then.”

suguru took a quick bite of his pancakes, poorly hiding his taunting grin with stuffed cheeks. maybe later he would feel guilty, making you all flustered so soon after waking up, drowsiness anchoring your posture against the stool. but, for now, with you in front of him, he found himself giddy as he toyed with your reactions.

“you’re impossible sometimes, do you know that?” you opted for taking a sip of your coffee, an anxious whisper in the shell of your ear warning you that you were going to embarrass yourself by chewing with your mouth full. as if he hadn't seen it before. it was hard to avoid his stare, to escape the painful position he put you in. was he serious?

you mumbled into your mug, “you hang out with gojo too much. is he gonna tag along, too?”

(gojo, the master of getting anything he wanted, any time, anywhere, no matter what.)

“it hurt's me, that you're thinking about him at a time like this.”

he smiled, more genuine this time. you watched him carefully, catching the nervous twitch of his fingertips he combated with a melodic thrum against the island. you considered how sincere his tone was, his gentle demeanor somehow becoming more soft as his playfulness subsided. 

"let me take you out."

you blinked, chewing on your lip thoughtfully. "to... the bodega?"

suguru laughed. "of course. i was thinking of a few different places, though."

"as in more dates?" you poked in his direction with your fork. he nodded. "who says we make it past one?"

"why not? we've already made it to our 'good morning' and 'eating breakfast together' phase."

[kaciidubs]

Imagine like waking up and being needy because wouldn’t if your boyfriends are Felix and chan. So you decide to be nice and start to press kisses all over Chan’s neck sometimes slightly biting down on the skin of his soft neck, when you feel Felix hands wander over your chest and suddenly you hear his deep voice right beside your ear “wanna make our Channie feel good Sunshine?” Felix deep voice made you shiver but you nod anyway moving your hand downward to Chan’s morning wood, as you slowly push your hands inside Chan’s boxers while Felix whispered praises in you ear with his deep voice. As you wrap your hand around Chan’s dick he whines in his sleep letting out a breathy moan at the feeling of your soft hands around him.

Now u can suffer with me from the thought of pleasing both chan and Felix 🫠🫠🫠

Oh bestie, this is more than just pleasing Chan and Felix, this is everything I could have asked for with poly Chanlix - Felix being the instigator and you being the partner in crime to all his naughty ideas~

Felix murmuring against your lips how you should give Chan something nice to wake up to since he stayed up for so long, and you aren't deaf to his insinuations - especially when he uses your hand to reach behind and feel Chan's morning wood.

The sheer amount of ease it is to get Chan into his back without making too much of a fuss, followed by the both of you shuffling midway down the bed; you on one side of Chan's legs, with Felix on the other.

This is one of the moments you're slightly annoyed he chose to wear underwear to bed, but with two sets of hands it doesn't take long for that problem to be remedied. Before you know it, you're peppering kisses up Chan's cock while Felix is whispering hushed praise.

"Just like that, sunshine, don't wanna wake him up just yet." "Make sure to get it wet, you know how he is - need me to help you?"

That's when you're both making out with Chan's dick between both your lips - all tongue and spit and needy whimpers and whines; you suck on the tip while Felix works the shaft, before alternating effortlessly.

It doesn't take long for the telltale signs of Chan's impending orgasm, the throbbing against your tongue welcome as Felix eggs you on to deepthroat.

"Fuck, look at you - doing such a good job angel-"

He's cut off by a sharp gasp, Chan suddenly snapping himself awake before moaning loudly, hands scrambling to hold onto something for his own sanity.

"W-What- Oh, fuck, fuck, 'm gonna-"

His orgasm takes him by storm, his cum costing your tongue and filling your mouth faster than he can comprehend.

You take it with a needy moan, humming around his tip before pulling away; only to tug Felix toward you and pressing your lips to his, parting them to let the cum slip into is own mouth.

The moan he let's out matches your own as you both make out with the taste of Chan's cum in your tongues - it's hot, it's sloppy, and so, so satisfying.

Chan watches you both, breathless and dazed, until the two of you turn to gaze at him with desire plainly written on your features. "So... I guess neither one of you wants to be able to walk today."

[Unedited]

[lust4life01]

Too Sweet - David Loki.

Inspired by the song ‘Too Sweet’ by Hozier because I’m obsessed with it!!

Disclaimer: I haven’t seen anyone do this yet but if it has been done please let me know!! ☺️

Pairing; David Loki x f/reader

Warnings!!: brief smut, oral f/recieving, angst-ish, colleagues, alcohol consumption, grumpy x sunshine, mention of crime/murder, knife mentioned, violence, etc.

Summary: David is profoundly attracted to his colleague but tries to stay away due to her sweet nature, which very much juxtaposes his. sulky nature. (key word- tries)

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

7:20 am , the clock read as you walked in. Coffees situated in hand as your pretty summer dress swayed softly.

“Hey Bill! Morning Sandra!” You greeted everyone in the morning with coffee and a smile, it’s was that time between spring and summer where everything was bright and made life feel worth living.

You fixed your eyes on Detective Loki, who had his nose buried amongst some case files and a frustrated grumpy look across his sharp features.

Taking out a black coffee from the holder you trailed over to him. You two weren’t exactly friends but you had a desperate need to be liked by him. Maybe it was because he was always so stern and earning yourself a smile would make you feel like a winner, or maybe it had something to do with the fact you were ridiculously attracted to him? Well, both things can be true simultaneously.

“Detective Loki, coffee?” You smiled down at him whilst extending the cup towards him in hopes he would accept your kind gesture.

Peeling his eyes away from his paper he met your gaze after you said his name.

“Oh, yes. Thank you.” He said in his monotone voice.

He grabbed the cup from your hands, lightly brushing over your fingers but snapped his head back to his paper in a matter of seconds.

There was nothing profoundly interesting on the paper but he didn’t want to engage with you. Just the thought of your company was overwhelming, never mind when you were handing him coffee and saying his name in such a sweet tone of voice. The smell of your perfume, your pretty summer dress and the sweetness that surrounds you would sweep him up in the blink of an eye. You were gorgeous, smart, likeable. You didn’t need to be getting involved with an older bitter man like him.

He did however wonder how you remained the way you are in a job like this. I mean how at seven in the moring are you considerate and nice? He imagined that you slept the way a princess would, other wise it would be a true mystery not even he could solve.

Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze?

The huge trees howled and peered down at you. Trapping you in as the screeches of crows was the only noise to be heard amongst the dismal scene.

You and Loki had been sent to a barren camp site out in the woods where two suspects had been reported as camping out. Realistically, you shouldn’t have been there, one because you quite literally weren’t suppose to be but had to be because Loki’s partner was off sick. And secondly, because most of your colleagues doubted your ability and thought infantilising you came from a place of concern rather than blatant misogyny.

Loki, however, didn’t want you there because the thought of just being alone with just you made him want to place his head in his palms. You had only exchanged a couple words as far as a sentence can go and you clearly liked to talk. He wasn’t so keen. He anticipated the awkwardness from the minute his supervisor had told you to go with him.

The crunching of leaves could be heard as the two of you stalked through the woods.

Loki spoke to you lowly as he kept his eyes on the tree line rather than you “These men are dangerous. You let me get them okay.”

You scoffed lightly which prompted him to turn his head to you, with his same expression he always had.

“Believe it or not, I am a fucking detective too. I have a gun strapped to my waist. I’m not an idiot”

Your sweet personality had been lost recently, which was most likely from the frustration of people assuming because you were nice you had to be weak too, and embarrassingly, because you still felt as though Loki was never going to crack. There was something about his cold nature that drew you in. You just wanted him to see you, which felt impossible.

You’re hostile attitude shocked Loki, it was quite attractive the way you stood your ground when he was so accustom to your soft spoken self. He raised his hands slightly as he apologised “Okay, sorry. You're right.”

You both continued to walk in silenced until you could see a campsite through the trees. There was a tent, a blazing bonfire, and some belongings scattered about. Loki protectively stood in front of you as you both spotted a man sat on a log, one which looked exactly like one of the two suspects.

Loki ran towards the man with his gun drawn and shouted “STAY FUCKING STILL!”

You followed behind quickly as Loki wrestled the man to the ground and cuffed him. Even if you were wrapped up in hostility you couldn't help but admit to yourslef that it was one of the hottest scenes you'd ever witnessed.

“Think you can run from me mother fucker.” Loki grunted as the man tried to wriggle his way out of the cuffs.

As Loki was taking care of the sicko criminal on the floor you heard movement from the tent. A man quickly appeared holding a knife but he tried to run from you rather than at you. You chased after him and trapped his foot, sending him flying to the floor, the knife flying from his hand and landing in a brush. Loki had noticed this and leapt up to come and help but you already cuffed the shouting man.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH! I’LL KILL YOU LIKE I KILLED THOSE OTHER WHORES!”

Back up had turned up shortly after to come and collect the two men. You stood by the bonfire and watched as the men were shoved into vans. A feeling of adrenaline consuming you as well as a deep sadness for the women who weren't saved from the foul men.

Loki slowly approached you scanning over your drained features as he stepped closer to you.

“Good job today (y,n).” It was blunt and pretty vague but honestly gaining validation from your older attractive colleague was rewarding and his presents dragged you from your depressing thoughts.

You smiled at him, your face illuminated by the orange flames as the sun started to set. He stared back at you whilst trying to decide if he should say what he wanted to. Fuck it.

“You look like you could use a drink. I’m gonna grab one, you wanna come?” He felt nervous, like he was twelve years old asking out the pretty popular girl to be his date to some cheesy dance. It was purley out of compassion and a need for a drinking buddy he told himself, not because he wanted to spend more of the day with you or anything.

The tiredness in your eyes remained but your lips did form into a smirk “I’d like that a lot, Loki.”

The smell of smoke from the bonfire filled the air before you, as he couldn’t help but stare at the reflection of the flames in your eyes, getting lost in your haze.

He snapped out of his admiration and suggested you guys take his car.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat

The sultry music that played in the background of the barren bar was drowned out by the sound of Loki's glass hitting the bar again, only the smell of whiskey left in the glass. After that day, Loki decided he needed a drink and had reluctantly invited you to come along which was his weird way of forming somewhat of a relationship with you. You absolutely did come along because the thought of the two men you and Loki had caught made you want to drink until a single thought couldn't grace your thoughts. And you felt comfortable with him. It wasn’t some sleazy type of invitation for drinks but more a mutual feeling of despair that could be lifting with the taste of alcohol.

Loki had order whiskey, neat of course, which made so much sense. You however had far one too many vodka and cherry cola’s.

At first Loki admired your ability to somewhat keep up with him, until he realised maybe that wasn’t the case, which he realised when you started to drunkenly cry about how you felt like your boss hated you and everone thought you were weak. Loki knew this was drunk nonsense because nobody could hate you, you‘re too sweet.

“Hey hey come on now, he doesn’t hate you. How could anybody hate you? And nobody thinks you're weak, especially not me.” He tried to calm your drunk ass down and started to think maybe asking you for a drink was not a good idea. That compassion he felt for you did scare him a little though.

He had tried to distance himself from you, but it seemed he couldn’t. Every assignment, there you were. It was impossible to remain distance or blunt around you. Even if he was admittedly a bit of a dick to everyone else he realised after being in your presence continuously that you were now almost friends? In a way?

Loki wasn’t drunk, sure he had drunk but he wasn’t drunk. He walked you to his car and helped you into the front seat. I mean what’s a detective without a little criminal activity, and he was still perfectly fine to drive. You on the other hand was not fine and there was no way Loki was letting you get into a cab on your own , not in this state.

Once driving you had gone quiet from your intoxicated rambling that had entertained Loki as he practically carried you to the car.

“Hey (y,n) what’s your address so I can take you home.”

There was no answer.

Loki peered over and you were sound asleep. Of course you were. He grabbed his phone from his pocket so he could call a colleague to find out where you lived but of course it had died.

He looked over at you and felt an odd feeling in his chest. He let out a huff and made a U turn.

My coffee black and my bed at three

He had helped you into his apartment and made a bed up on the couch for himself. But before that he had fixed you both some coffee in order to help you sober up a little. His was black o. He gave you some toast and your sweetened coffee as you thanked him mercilessly. He was glad you were at least conscious now.

“That’s already. Do you want me to take you home, or you can stay here? I’ll sleep on the couch.”

It was pretty late and he had felt an odd shift towards you from the hours before. Your vunreblity you inviited him to see had eradicated the strange tension you two seemed to possess previously. You felt comfortable with him, so he felt comfortable around you.

Despite your intoxicated state, you could recognise the serenity in his voice, probably being the nicest he’s ever spoken to anyone ever.

You shook your head slightly as you eyes fluttered “David you don’t have to do that, I’ll sleep on the couch. ”

The thought of another car ride did make you want to vomit, and you trusted Loki so there was no harm in staying.

The use of his first name threw him off a bit but he was insistent that you took the bed whilst also briefly apologising for his lack female comfortable clothing. He set out some briefs and a t shirt, that was nowhere close to fitting you, onto the bed.

You slipped them on a thanked him one more time before settling in to his bed. The alcohol in your system left a feeling of guilt upon your conscionous as the smell of him hit you from his pillows. However, after a couple minutes with your head touching his pillows you were fast asleep.

You're too sweet for me

The next morning had arrived and Loki started to get up for work, when he remembered you were sleeping soundly in his bed. He quietly got himself together and left you a note on the bedside table which read;

Gone to work, I’ll let them know you're sick. Help yourself to anything and the keys are on the kitchen counter.

Accompanied with the note was a glass of water and a some aspirin to help with the hangover. He stared down at your face, you looked so pretty. God you were too perfect, far too kind and compassionate to be with the likes of him. He covered the duvet over you before he left and made sure to take a final glance at you before leaving.

After waking up from a pleasant sleep to a not so pleasant headache, you were quickly snapped out of your self pity after realising you were in your colleagues bed. Your colleague who you had been trying to impress forever.

You shortly remembered why that was and the hangxiety demons grabbed ahold of you. You shoved your face into his pillows as you cursed yourself for getting in such a state. God, he probably thought you were ridiculous, a stupid child who couldn’t handle their alcohol. Great.

Then the panic of work hit you, fuck were you late? Where was Loki? What was the fucking time? Your eyes scanned for an indication when they laid upon his note. You let out a sigh of relief after reading that Loki was going to cover your ass. You took the pills, made his bed, changed back into your clothes and called yourself a cab home.

You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate

Once you had gotten home you left Loki a message to thank him for his kindness, not only through letting you stay at his house but also for covering your ass at home. The thought of inconveniencing others made you want to die.

Loki's kindness left you with this debilitating feeling in your chest, you two had becomes somewhat friends but the overwhelming attraction you felt to him only became magnified when he provided you with his security last night.

You felt absolutely disgusting with the hangxiety seeping through your soul, your clothes from yesterday, and the fact you hadn’t showered since yesterday morning.

The sound of the shower blasting accompanied with your favourite playlist playing made you feel calmer and cleaner already. You jumped into the shower and decided you had to see Loki. You had to thank him in person. Something about knowing you slept in his bed last night and you haven’t seen him since just didn’t feel right.

If you were seeing Loki, it had to be an everything shower. You had to look and feel perfect. As you massaged your sweet smelling shampoo into your scalp your mind imagined walking up to his door and kissing him. God, the thought made your heart ache and yearn for it to be reality, but you highly doubted he felt the same. I mean it was Loki.

Once every inch of your body smelt, felt and looked divine you admired yourself in the mirror. Your makeup looked stunning but not overbearing, your hair looked like you had just come out of a Victorian secret catalog and you smelt gorgeous.

You quickly checked your phone and saw Loki had replied, meaning he was probably home from work by now. You opened up the message which read;

‘Thats okay (y,n), no need to thank me. Did you get home alright?’

God why did he care so much? Why did it make you want him more, and why did he have to be a colleague? Without even replying to the text you rushed to your car and made your way over to his. Admittedly, you did have one of your friends from the IT department tell you where he lived a little while back. It wasn’t creep or stalking, you’re a detective okay? That makes it fine, I suppose.

Once you arrived and was stood outside his door your heart started to pound. You took a deep breath and gently knocked on his door.

The minutes in which it took him to open the door immediately made you want to run away. But you didn’t. You stayed and stared at the door.

Finally when it opened you saw Loki standing in the doorway, uniform still on and was that a smile plastered on his face?

“Oh hello (y,n).” He said sounding pleasantly shocked to see you. Then he subtly looked you up and down. Fuck you looked so pretty.

You stared for a minute, wide eyed. “Hey, so um-, I just like, wanted to say thanks. Again.” You could feel your cheeks blush from being so self aware.

You could feel his low brow stare as you talked, making you feel even more nervous. You had talked to criminals that had committed heinous crimes but somehow this was far more nerve racking.

He stepped a little closer to you, looking down. “You didn't need to say it again, I told you it’s my pleasure.”

Without saying anything you stood staring into his eyes.

“Well yeah, I just came by to express how thankful I really am.”

He smirked and then brushed a piece of hair behind your ear with his large hand, a small piece of his own hair falling as he leaned forward. God you were so sweet, but he could tell you weren’t here because of that.

Cupping your jaw he gently connected his lips to yours. You gasped quietly making Loki retreat instantly.

“Fuck. I’m sorry I-“

Before he had time to continue you smashed your lips together again, humming into the kiss. It became heated and as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, feeling as though he had reached heavens gate.

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

You tried to catch your breath as Loki's lips attacked yours mercilessly as you both made your way to his bedroom whilst crashing into every surface on the way.

The base of your back hit the wall as his hands started to undress you in between the hard kisses. “You’re so fucking pretty. Wanted you for so long.”

You could only moan in response as the feeling of his hands hugged your skin and his teeth grazed your neck.

Once he had gotten you in just your lingerie set, which he noticed immediately, he grabbed the backs of your thighs and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Pulling his hair you whined as he carried you to the bedroom. You were so desperate for him, it was insane.

Placing you down on to the end of the bed, he stood before you. You immediately crawled to your knees, and reached for the hem of his long fitted black shirt. He smiled and reached his big hand around your back and un clasped your bra as his other hand stroked your hair. You bit your lip in anticipation as the shirt slipped over his head, leaving him shirtless with nothing but his work pants on in front you you. You admired his god like torso, covered in tattoos.

You whispered a quiet “fuck” and kissed down his snail trail.

Loki groaned as you reached closer down his torso and gripped your jaw, bending down and kissing you hard once again.

“Lie back for me princess.”

Immediately you did as you were told and Loki quickly followed on top of you. One hand firmly gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, whilst the other held your right wrist again the bed. He kissed your sweet collar bones and made his way down to your nipples. He licked and kissed them as your chest heaved.

“Loki, please. I need you to bad.”

An amused grin spread across his face as blood rushed to his already hard cock. He dipped two large fingers into your underwear and they were immediate soaked by your desperation.

“Not as innocent as you seem, are you baby? Mhm?” He hummed.

You shook your head as you tried to not cry out from your needy incoherent state.

He brought his fingers to your lips and you wrapped your swollen lips around them and moaned.

Seconds later he was tearing off your panties and connecting his wet tongue to your pulsating cunt as he praised you through your moans.

“Taste just as sweet as you seem though. Taste and look so fucking good for me baby.”

He sucked on your clit as if it were a divine exotic fruit, almost as sweet as a grape turned into a majestic wine falling from an enchanted waterfall.

You thread your fingers through his hair and whimpered hysterically “Loki! Fuck!”

You're too sweet for me

The summer breeze trailed in through the open window as your head rested upon Lokis bare chest. You both laid there as you played with his big tattooed fingers and he took in the smell of your shampoo that he so secretly loved.

You started to talk his ear off mercilessly and he simply just listened. Taking in all of your words as if they were the most important words to ever be spoken. He nodded and hummed as he admired you. Your skin glowing. He had to admit to himself your sweet charming personality had caught him in a choke hold. There was an element of purity and sunshine that you brought to his sulky self, he was well and truly fucked. You're too sweet.

(Ugh im so obsessed with this song and it is soooo David Loki.)

[milliesfishes]

Omg i jist had this thought

Reader secretly pining for billy and hes oblivious to her little crush and innocently rejects her advances to spend time with her because he jjst doesnt think too much about it and unknowingly hurts her feelings until someone has to spell it out for him and he comes to the realization and realizes he returns her feelings

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 (𝓱𝓮 𝓱𝓪𝓼 𝓷𝓸 𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓪)𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭

Billy wouldn't describe himself as a ladies' man.

He wasn't one to flirt, keeping his interactions with women the same as he did with men. Polite, kind and quick. But everything has an exception, and his happened to be you.

The inn where you'd both been staying at first had you in rooms in the same hallway, and that was how you'd met. Bumping into each other one morning when the two of you were too tired to pay attention where you were walking, the long-term result had been a friendship he wouldn't trade for anything.

Brighter than sunshine, pretty as any flower in the forest, he embraced your bright presence when it entered his life. He'd have been a fool not to. You were one of a kind, the sweetest girl in town. Billy couldn't imagine his life without you.

You were his favorite riding companion, and he sook you out for it as often as he could, racing you through the grassy prairie fields and venturing into the nearby forests and mountains. You were funny, making little observations that had him laughing all too often, and he didn't laugh for just anyone.

He'd walk through town with you, arms linked together as you chatted with him about whatever was on your mind. Though initially shy, as you became more comfortable, you'd talk about almost anything with him. And he loved to listen.

Always so lovely and mild-mannered, he cherished your presence, the fact that you chose to befriend him. A no good, wanted man as far as he was concerned. In the company of the gentlest girl he'd ever met.

Billy was a rough-and-tumble outlaw. You were the kindest girl this side of river. He wasn't about to be the one to corrupt you. In fact, he'd go to lengths to make sure you were never corrupted at all.

You were absolutely darling, so sweet to him even though he'd argue he didn't deserve it at all. Eventually he moved out of the inn and acquired a little cabin in the nearby woods about ten minutes from town, and you frequented it at his request.

One night it was raining hard, and you were sitting by the stove with him to keep warm, just talking in your sweet way. He had opened his mouth to say something when a clap of thunder made you jump, automatically moving into his chest.

His arms came immediately around you, and he couldn't help but smile at the fact that you felt that safe around him. Rubbing your back, he leaned his head down to breathe in your scent.

At that moment, when you were burrowed into his arms, hiding from the storm, he had an overwhelming feeling of protection. That was all he wanted to do forever- to keep you safe from anything that had the potential of marring your precious innocence.

He had you over to his place as often as he could get away with, always nervous about you staying at the inn with no protection, especially since it was mainly occupied by men.

Sometimes when the two of you had lost track of time and the sun was long sunk behind the hill, he'd tell you to just stay over. Lucky for him you often agreed, and you'd spend the night cuddled in his arms like a cat curling up for warmth. His heart always twinged at the adorable sight of you.

He was in awe of just how good you were to everyone to matter what. But even though you were nice to all you met, he liked to think you had a soft spot just for him. Were you staying over at your other friends' houses and sleeping in their arms? No, you weren't.

He didn't realize how close the two of you really were until you came to his cabin late one night, exhaustedly collapsing next to him and seeking comfort. Of course he'd obliged, pulling the blanket up over you on his bed and holding out his arms to you. "Rough night, pretty?"

"Mhm," you smiled at the nickname he'd given you as he'd hoped you would, as you always did. "Tessa had her baby. Took all day."

"You were with her the whole time?" Billy mused, nosing against your hair.

"Yeah," you mumbled into his chest, and he smiled. Your eternal kindness never failed to amaze him.

"You're a good friend, pretty, ya know that?" he mused, rubbing your back. "Always lookin' out for others."

"She has hardly anyone else. Poor thing, her baby's daddy up and left her when he found out," you said softly, and he nodded sympathetically. "Just about everyone in town's shunned her cause of it."

He kissed your temple and marveled at your selfless actions. But your words got him thinking.

Billy didn't often make a habit of worrying what others thought. He was far past that, with his status as an outlaw and his former life on the run. A few days after that night he noticed people whispering as the two of you walked arm in arm through the square, and he started to care again.

He saw the two of you from an outsider's eyes. You could be on a poster for an angel baby doll, so darling and dear. He was on a different kind of poster, with a cash prize underneath.

People talked. He knew that better than anyone. And while he didn't care what they said about him, it bothered him that they might be saying bad things about you. In this world, a woman's reputation was all she had, and he didn't want you to end up like Tessa: abandoned and hopeless, besmirched by an outlaw.

So, the next day when you came up to him in town, asking if he wanted to go for a ride and fidgeting with your fingers, he said he had other work to do. That someone was gonna have his head if he didn't get it done by this-time-or-other.

Your face had fallen, and it made him feel bad. But of course, you didn't argue, just gave him a slightly let down smile and walked away. He felt an odd feeling of disappointment, like he'd wanted you to protest, call him out on his excuse. You wouldn't have, though. You were too sweet to even dream of it.

Over the next few weeks, he continued to brush you off, although it hurt his heart. He didn't want to keep his distance from you- he wanted the complete opposite. But if it kept you safe and protected, he'd keep his distance forever.

It was lonely; being separated from you and spending his weeks without your sunshiny presence was lonely. His bed was cold without you there to cuddle up beside him. His rides through the desert felt melancholy. Billy couldn't recall ever missing a friend in this way before, but then again you were special. He felt twinges in his heart that he set aside to figure out later.

It got to the point where you stopped approaching him at all. It saddened him though it was completely his fault. He'd see you across town with some of your other friends, and long to go up to you and just apologize over and over. But he didn't.

He heard that Tessa had been ill, and you'd gone to care for her and the baby. The news made him smile at how goodhearted you continually proved yourself to be.

It also made his heart jump, hearing about you. He was unsure why.

A couple of times, his boys asked where you were, since they'd been so used to you hanging around, even fond of it. Billy would always shrug and brush it off, saying you were busy. He caught a few of them exchanging odd looks, which confused him.

All in all, he managed to keep his distance. And it was for the best, he tried to convince himself. It was for the best.

This mindset was kept up until one day when it was raining.

He'd been coming back home from a ride, water drizzling over the brim of his hat. It hadn't been the worst day for work, but he was still tired and he looked forward to sleep.

Off in the distance, he noticed something lying in the grass. Thinking it was an animal, he rode a little closer to investigate. But as he got a better vantage, he realized it wasn't an animal at all.

It wasn't just any person either.

You were collapsed in the grass, breathing faint, eyes closed. Your skin was pale, and he could see sweat beading on your forehead. The rain only made the sight more miserable; you were shivering because of it.

Without thinking he jumped off his horse and fell at your side, panicked thoughts filling his head. "Oh pretty..." Worry flooded his senses as he assessed your condition. Shaking your shoulders lightly, he breathed, "Pretty...pretty...wake up...please wake up..." You hardly stirred.

You must have caught what Tessa had, he realized frantically, remembering what he'd heard about you.

Billy could still hear you breathing, which was a good sign, but your skin was hot, your movements feverish. He scooped you up, gently lifting you onto his horse. You gave a little moan, and he gritted his teeth, knowing you must be in pain. "I know," he said hurriedly, grabbing the reigns while keeping his arm around you. Your weak body was slumped against his chest, and he could feel how hot you were through your clothes. "It's gonna be okay. We're just a little bit from home."

He rode as quickly as he felt he could with you propped against him. You were hardly conscious, and the sight of you sunk and settled into his stomach like a stone to the bottom of a river. Anxiety coursed through his blood; he hated sickness and all the tragedy it'd held for him in the past.

Once he reached the cabin, he tied his horse and lifted you into his arms as gently as he could. You whimpered, waking up a little. He hated that you were in pain but he was glad you were hanging on.

"'S okay. 'S okay," he mumbled as he carried you inside, eyes on you as yours sleepily opened. "Hey pretty, I've gotcha."

"Billy?" you mumbled weakly as he laid you down on his bed.

"I've gotcha pretty," he repeated, getting up and rifling through his drawers for something for you to wear. Your wet dress wasn't doing your condition any favors. He decided on one of his shirts for now, resolving to cover the rest of you in blankets.

Going back over to you, he kicked off his boots and sat on the bed next to you, pulling you into him to sit against his chest. You gave a weak little noise of protest, but he rubbed his hand up and down your arm soothingly, unbuttoning the back of your dress and easing it off you. "Shh, I know, I know," he said softly. "'m just gettin' ya more comfy. 'm not gonna do anything bad for ya."

He got you into his shirt and settled you back down into bed, pulling the covers up around you. You were still shivering despite your fever. Billy went to get more blankets, and he wrapped them around you, cocooning you in warmth in an attempt to quell your cold.

Billy went to get a rag and some water, and once he returned, he mopped your sweaty brow diligently, trying to get you to sleep. "Shh, pretty...try 'n rest."

You whimpered, opening your eyes and looking at him so desperately it broke his heart. "Billy..."

"Don't speak," he muttered, his thumb smoothing your cheek. "You're real sick pretty. Ya need some sleep."

"Was I awful to you Billy?" you mumbled, stirring.

"You ain't never been awful to me," he said quietly, mostly focused on getting you to close your eyes. "Pretty-"

"I must've," you insisted weakly, reaching a limp hand out for his. "If you didn' wanna be 'round me."

Billy's brow furrowed as he realized what you were talking about and a tidal wave of guilt crashed over him. He shook his head, squeezing your hand. "No...no pretty. It ain't nothin' you did. It was somethin' I got in my head."

You were too exhausted and sick to respond, and he wouldn't have let you if you tried. He smoothed a hand over your forehead, and you relaxed at the feeling. "Shh, sweetheart. You just rest. I'm 'boutta take care of ya."

He nursed you all through the night, trying to break the fever. When your lips were dry, he squeezed water over them. When you shivered even under all the blankets, he got under them with you and let his body heat warm you up. When you thrashed feverishly from your sick hallucinations, he held you tight in his arms, whispering things to you until you calmed down.

The next day, you weren't better by much. You mumbled things about secrets and guilt, and all he could do was listen and try to calm you down. It hurt him dearly to see you like this. He worried for your life at different intervals in the day, when you were passed out from exhaustion.

After a worrisome night, he woke up next to you and felt your forehead, relieved beyond belief when he felt that the fever had broken.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him tiredly. He gave you a little smile, stroking your hair. "Hi sweetheart. How ya feelin'?"

"Tired," you murmured, blinking sleepily. "Achey."

"Oh," he leaned down and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering there. "My poor girl."

A little smile came to your face, and you rested your head back on the pillow next to his. "You've been so good, taking care of me."

"Course I have," Billy tucked some of your hair behind your ear. "I found ya lyin' in a field pretty. I wouldn't ever just leave ya there." He traced his fingers up your cheek. "What were ya doin' there anyways?"

You looked away, biting your lip. "I was...I was just out walking."

He nodded, half smiling. Then he sat up, resting his hand on your head comfortingly. "I'm gonna go into town for just a bit. 'm gonna try 'n find some medicine, okay? You just rest while I'm gone."

Looking up at him with something in your eyes he couldn't quite place, you nodded. Billy rubbed your cheek once before standing up and tugging his boots on, kissing your forehead before he left.

At the general store he found what he needed quickly, heading over to be rung up. It happened to be one of your other friends at the counter today, and he greeted Billy kindly, noting what he was buying. "Feelin' under the weather?"

"Nah," Billy explained the situation. "She's doin' better now but I want her to stay better so-" he gestured at the little bottle.

"Ah," your friend smiled. "Mighty kind of ya to care for her. Course I shouldn't expect anything less from her man."

Billy tilted his head. "Oh...we ain't like that. I'm just helpin' her out."

Your friend frowned in confusion. "Oh? That ain't what everyone's sayin' 'round here."

"What d'ya mean by?" Billy asked, unable to help his curiosity.

"Y'all are so close, everyone thought you were together," your friend chuckled. "Sides, she's head over heels for ya. Anyone could see it." He handed Billy the medicine bottle. "Guess we got it wrong though."

His words hit Billy like a punch to the gut, his head nearly spinning. The thought of you...loving him in that way was shocking...new...he'd never thought you'd ever care for him in that way.

So when he'd thought everyone was whispering awful things about you, it'd really been rumors about the status of their relationship. He felt...relieved at the fact, but still confused at what else your friend had said.

Head over heels? Billy left the store in a daze. He somehow was able to get on his horse and start the journey home. But the thought kept swinging back around like the pendulum on a clock.

If what your friend said was true and you loved him...he'd made a huge mistake over the past few weeks. Brushing you off, refusing to see you...how could he have made such a mistake?

On the way home it was all he could think about. How he'd been trying to protect you, but he'd inadvertently ended up hurting you. But he'd truly had no idea.

The thought of you loving him sent his head into overdrive. He toyed with it, let it bounce around for a second...his heart fluttering at the thought.

Did he love you? He knew he did, but he'd never thought in a romantic way. But now as he thought of your head on his chest as you slept, and your laugh, and your smile, the way he'd felt when he thought you could die from your sickness, and the protection he wanted to give you, the everything he wanted to give you...he realized he did.

He loved you. And he'd been fool enough not to see it.

By the time he came to this conclusion, he was back at the cabin, jumping off his horse and rushing inside to you, the medicine bottle clutched tightly in his fist. He eagerly went to your bedside, kneeling beside you and setting the medicine on the side table.

You opened your eyes when you saw him, and he couldn't help his smile when he saw the sweet sparkle back in them. "Hi pretty," he said softly, reaching for your hand and stroking it. "Feelin' any better?"

Nodding, you sat up a little, a tiny smile on your face. "Better."

"Good," Billy kissed your knuckles. Now that he'd realized how he felt everything about you seemed so much brighter. Your soft hair, your soft skin, your bright eyes.

You looked nervous for a moment, looking down at your joined hands. "Billy...I need to tell you something. I...I lied about why I was in the field. I was coming to see you that day." By the look on your face, you'd been thinking about this all day.

He looked into your eyes, showing he was listening. "You were? When you were sick?" There was a little jump in his chest at that.

"I didn't know I was that sick." You nodded, finally meeting his eyes. "I missed you so bad, Billy. And I was tired of keeping it all inside. I was ready to say I was sorry for whatever I did, whatever I said that made you upset."

Billy lifted his hand to your cheek, stroking it softly. "You didn't do a damn thing. I was tryin' to protect ya...went about the wrong way of doin' it for sure, but I only had good intentions."

You seemed to understand, and you looked down. "I felt awful..."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, coming up to sit next to you on the bed and holding you close. "I am. I shoulda told ya 'bout how I was feelin'. I was worried people were sayin' bad things 'bout ya bein' seen with me." He took in a breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. "I was tryin' to protect ya cause I...cause I love ya."

There was a little moment of silence. You looked up at him with the sweetest baby doll eyes he'd ever seen, and then he saw that tiny smile again. Sitting up slightly, you brought your hand to his chest, your expression soft. "You love me?"

He nodded with a quiet smile. "I love you."

"You love me." Your face burst into the sweetest smile he'd ever seen, and then your arms came around his neck, leaning against him. He folded his big arms around you, holding you nice and close to him, right where he liked you. "And I love you."

"You do," Billy murmured into your hair, pulling back so he could see your face. "You love me and I love you."

He'd never seen such joy on your face, and you leaned forward, nudging your nose with his. Billy didn't want to play the waiting game, and he pressed his lips to yours, reveling in the way they locked together perfectly, like they'd been made for it.

"I love ya," he mumbled, kissing your nose. "I love ya to the stars. Ain't no more questions 'bout it."

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