#Paris (the dummy's dummy) x reader

[justhyperfixiating]

Paris x Reader (Platonic)

Paris gets some Rest

You were reading a book when two little hands appeared on the top edge of it, and pulled down, revealing two big, red eyes.

"Oh, hello, Paris."

"Hi." His raspy voice had changed to suit how small he was. It still threw you off sometimes.

You rested the book on your chest slowly, and Paris crawled over it and into the nook in-between your arm and your chest. You waited for him to get comfy before resuming your book.

It was a slow day, today. Nothing much was happening, and everyone was taking advantage of the opportunity to rest. Lily was playing her games in the other room, and Yumi was completing a puzzle on the floor while cuddling with one of her newer plushies. And it seemed Paris wanted to siphon some body heat from you.

But after a good while of enjoying his presence (and him enjoying yours), your throat began to get dry.

You gently shifted your arm to wake Paris, "Paris?"

"Mm"

"I need to go get something to drink. And maybe something to eat, too, I could get you a blanket and some pillows if you want."

"I'd. Like to stay with you. If you're alright with that."

"That's alright."

You put a bookmark in your book, and set it aside before carefully getting up, adjusting your hold on Paris as you got on your feet.

"Are you comfy enough?"

"Mhm."

"Okay. Let me know if you get uncomfortable."

Getting to the kitchen was easy enough, but when you started thinking through the process of making yourself a mug of tea, you had an idea. Maybe Yumi and Lily would like something?

Of course, making three mugs of tea would be challenging with one arm, but one of the two girls could come and help.

You pulled out your phone and texted Lily.

<Hey Lily>

<wat>

<Would you or yum like tea>

Damn autocorrect

<id like tea>

<let me ask ymui>

<Could one of you help me make the tea?>

<I only have one arm available>

<?>

You took a photo of you and Paris. He was . . . asleep probably wasn't the right word, but he certainly wasn't conscious. Paris's face was in the crook of your neck and he was almost completely limp.

<littleguy.img>

<omg>

<holy shit>

<i will help you for no reason in particular>

You heard Lily swiftly pad down the hallway before she slowed down and entered the kitchen. After a bit of her stifling her laughter at Paris being small and 'asleep', you two got to work.

You started by grabbing the mugs for everyone while Lily put the electric kettle on. While you two worked, Paris would occasionally let out a few quiet clacks. Neither of you knew if that was the sound of him waking up, so both you and Lily would pause whenever he started just to be safe. And when he stopped, you two were a bit more conscious of the noise you were making.

After several more minutes of this odd game of Red Light, Green Light, three warm mugs of tea were ready. Lily reached for her phone and started typing. Your phone vibrated, and she showed you her screen.

<wanna vibe in the same room? yumi wanted to hang out.>

You fumbled to unlock your phone.

<Not sure how Paris will react, but he has known you two longer>

<hell be embarrassed for five secs tops>

<If you say so. I'm good to hang out>

<ok. ill grab uymi, u go baack to ur book>

You pocketed your phone and gave her a thumbs up, then turned around to grab your mug. Lily padded off with the other two mugs to collect Yumi, and you went to go sit back down with your tea and Paris.

Once you got settled in, Yumi tip-toed up to the couch you were sitting on and wordless joined Paris by cuddling into your arm on the same side as him. She held her mug with both hands, careful to not spill the hot liquid all over the three of you. Lily came in a few seconds after, and quietly took a picture before joining the cuddle pile.

Yumi was the first to start softly snoring, and eventually Lily turned her game off. Soon after that, the words on the page started to blur together, and you decided to stop where you were and rest your eyes, too.

A few hours later, Paris 'woke up' and froze when he realized that he was in the middle of/ on top of three sleeping humans. Then he noticed the mugs. Each of the mugs had gotten into precarious positions and a stray toss or turn could cause one of them to fall onto the floor.

Paris carefully crawled off of the cuddle pile and transitioned into his more humanoid form, and he quickly collected up the mugs and went to go wash them.

The small waterfall was quite loud in comparison to the quiet breathing he was surrounded by just a few minutes ago. After a few seconds, he acclimated to the sound of the running tap and started cleaning the cups.

It soothed him to gently wipe away the stains. While the mugs were solid colors, removing the discolorations were like revealing an intricate pattern. He much prefered this to that teeth grinding game of round up Ivan had him going on.

Ivan. He'd almost forgotten about that old fool. Not that he could forget his creator. Not even when he was locked up in that box and completely replaced.

A particularly loud snore from the other room broke his train of thought.

He looked down and saw that he broke the handle of the mug he was washing.

Oops.

Lily could cover for that. Right?

Paris listened for any more signs of the three of you waking up while he cleaned the other mugs. Only so he wouldn't be surprised if one of you came up behind him. No other reason.

Paris thought of Darla and Dorthy.

Nope. No other reason.

When Paris was done cleaning up your (admittedly small) mess, he watched the three of you as you slept for a few moments.

Then he shook his head and let out a sigh before shrinking back down and snuggling back into your body heat. No reason to stay awake if everyone else was asleep, he supposed.

---

Nora took a photo when she got home, of course, and then woke everyone up. The characters aren't the most in character, but i did my best and im rather proud of how this turned out.

Edit: fixed some formatting errors, don't know how I missed them on mobile

[nelumbonuciferagaertn]

Paris (the dummy's dummy) x Reader

Warning: injury, self-harm (not severe, it's mainly a cute story) Relationship: romantic with Paris, parental (more friendly) with Yumi Reader's gender: not mentioned Summary: you talk with Paris' knife

This is my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy it! :)

***

You live with Yumi because you are her babysitter. You know everything about her seeing ghosts and the living toys—in other words, the puppet named Paris. You care about that, and it’s logical because it's very dangerous. Yumi often comes home terrified and sometimes injured. However, you allow her outings because Yumi has a heart of gold, which compels her to act whenever she knows something bad is going to happen to someone else. And you know that if you stop her, she won’t listen—or worse, she will blame herself for not helping the little child from her prophetic dream.

And then, there’s Paris, the puppet. Your first meeting with him was… a fight. I mean, who wouldn’t grab a baseball bat from a Trailblazer cosplay and immediately swing at an unknown figure inside their house? Definitely not you. The problem was that he was faster, stronger, and more agile than you. So, it took him barely two minutes to knock you out. Don’t worry, you were fine—it’s just to say that you trust his ability to keep Yumi safe.

But as time passed, you got to know the toy a little better, and he learned about you in return. And you have to admit—you feel something for him. Who wouldn’t? He’s handsome, kind, strong, and the contrast between his love for destruction and his care for Yumi is so endearing that it makes you fall for him.

That day, Paris had just returned from a mission, covered in mud. So he was taking a shower, and that's when, like the mischievous leprechaun you are, you entered the bathroom, saying: "I’m just taking your old clothes and leaving new ones here, okay?" "Alright, thank you."

You set down the black clothing next to the used ones and glance at the knife resting nearby, waiting for its master. Looking around to make sure no one is watching, you mischievously pick it up before calmly leaving the room. Today is the day you will talk to his knife!

Why? Well, it has eyes and mouths, so why wouldn’t it talk? Moreover, during the fight with that clown guy—what was his name again? Palovok? Polakov?—they said the knife started laughing. You don’t know for sure, you weren’t there, unfortunately.

Anyway, you figure that if it’s alive, like Paris or at least somewhat like him, you should try talking to it. It might even be a part of him. With a bit of luck, you might get some exclusive information! And so, you ended up stealing Paris' knife—leading to this very moment.

After tossing the dirty clothes into the washing machine, you run to your bedroom, shut the door, and sit cross-legged. Facing the strange knife in your hands, you begin:

"Hello?" you start.

No answer.

"So, you’re Paris’ knife, right?"

"..."

"Yeah, that question was unnecessary. It's obvious…" You let out a nervous laugh, not entirely convinced by your own words.

"I see you have eyes and mouths. Does that mean you can see or talk?"

"..."

"You can't?"

"..."

"You're not very talkative, are you?"

"..."

"Do you mind if I take a look at you?"

"..."

"I’ll take that silence as a yes!"

You begin examining the object in your hands. First, you look at the blade—its brightness catches your eye. But you decide to save the best for last. So, you turn your attention to the handle. It’s not exactly dark—more of a gray color. But when your shadow covers it, it turns much darker. For fun, you move your hand back and forth a few times.

However, on the third time, you stop. This time, you touch it. Your fingers graze the surface—it’s both smooth and rough at the same time. Perfect for gripping during intense fights, even with sweaty hands! Not that Paris can sweat anyway.

You grip the knife tightly, as if preparing to attack, and strike a few cool poses.

After playing around, you shift your focus to the blade. The first thing you notice is its brilliance. It’s almost shocking how a knife regularly used to cut through people (or whatever they were) is still so sparkling clean.

You also observe that the eyes and mouths appear and disappear. For example, when you took it from the bathroom, there were only a few. But when you swung it around, more appeared. And the more you talked, the more they vanished. You assume that when the knife gets bored, the mouths and eyes disappear. That would explain why there were only a few in the bathroom—Paris had just returned from a fight. When you took it unexpectedly, you piqued its interest, but as you kept talking, it grew bored.

Pleased with your first assessment, you gain confidence, which leads you to gently skim a finger along the blade’s edge—your index finger, to be precise. The cutting edge is so sharp that a small cut appears on your skin. But for some masochistic reason, you don’t stop there.

"Well, let’s see what you got!"

You hold up Paris' knife triumphantly. Heading to your desk, where some random objects are lying around, you grab a piece of paper. With a slow movement, you slice through it effortlessly.

"You're very sharp, aren’t you?"

In response, the mouths on the blade curve into a grin, making you smile too.

"Let’s try something more resistant..."

You scan your desk until your eyes land on an apple. You pick it up and toss it into the air a few times. You don’t expect to miss your target so many times, but here you are—throwing it for the fifth time. On the sixth, you finally hit it.

Maybe the knife was getting annoyed with your misses and decided to help? Whatever the case, the apple is now perfectly sliced in half, juice dripping onto the floor. But when you check the blade, it’s still pristine.

"Let’s do it again!" you say, grabbing one of the apple slices.

The knife grins at you, and you prepare for another round—until you hear your name being shouted from the hallway.

That’s Paris.

"Oops, he noticed…"

Your door swings open violently, revealing the dummy. His brows are furrowed, and his piercing gaze is fixed on you. He looks… a little mad.

"Why did you take my knife?! It’s dangerously sharp, you know!" He snatches the weapon from your hands.

You open your mouth to explain, but he interrupts by grabbing your hand and inspecting your injured finger.

"Look at this. Come on, let’s treat it."

Still holding your hand, he guides you to the bathroom. The room is still humid, but not enough to be unbearable.

Paris opens a drawer and pulls out a first-aid kit. You sit on the edge of the bathtub while he kneels in front of you, carefully bandaging your finger.

"You know, I’m not a kid anymore…" you say as he works. He glances at you, unconvinced.

"Still, I appreciate the care!" you add with a small laugh.

"You're not as monstrous as you think you are."

You smile at him, watching for his reaction. His head lifts, and he looks at you with a shocked expression.

"You know I could kill you right now, right?"

You lock eyes for a moment—then burst into laughter.

"Oh no, you won’t!" you tease, wiping a tear from your eye.

When Paris finishes treating your wound, you use your uninjured hand to tousle his hair.

"Thank you for taking care of me! I didn’t even notice I had cut myself. Your knife is really sharp, you know!"

"That’s why I said it was dangerous," he replies, pulling away from you with an annoyed expression. But you immediately use your other hand to continue, still laughing.

"Don’t do that with this hand! I just bandaged it, idiot!"

"Come here! I need to thank you properly, my little cutie dummy!"

He growls in discontent, grabbing your hands and trying to push you away.

If he had blood, he thinks he would probably blush—more than usual—because of the proximity and the affectionate nickname you just gave him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like you. Before, he didn’t really know what love was. He appreciated his creator, just like he appreciated many other things, but Yumi taught him what love is. She accepted him for what he was, creating a strong bond between them—exactly like a brother loves his sister.

But with you, it’s different. He likes you, he is certain of that. However, it’s not the same kind of feeling. And he doesn’t mind. It’s an enjoyable feeling. And later, he could even boast to the Darling Dolls about his new understanding of love.

"Anyway, it’s almost time for dinner. I have to cook something for Yumi and me," you say. He drops your hands, letting you moove.

You head toward the door but stop just before leaving the room. Turning back, you ask:

"After dinner, I was planning to play some games with Yumi. Wanna join us?"

He looks at you, considering your offer, then nods positively.

After dinner (you prepared apple curry—you just wanted to make Yumi happy for no particular reason), the three of you head to Yumi’s room and play different kinds of games. It’s comforting to see her having fun, especially compared to the times she came back completely traumatized.

… You lose all the games, by the way.

[mangostarjam]

summertime madness — kaiju no. 8, narumi gen x f!reader, "babe" as a petname, sorta rivals to lovers, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, written for @tetzoro's summer olympics collab, 3.7k words

"Fucking bite me, Narumi."

"I'm trying, dummy!"

You stop your hasty escape abruptly, but luckily Narumi Gen's reflexes are good enough that he catches you around the waist as he stumbles into you, one palm slamming flat on the stucco wall of the alleyway to keep both of you from bouncing into it. His chest heaves against your back as he huffs. He doesn't let go of your waist.

"What did you—? Narumi, you just called the Japanese men's volleyball team ugly. You're the one walking around with shitty dyed hair!"

"My hair's natural, babe, unlike that bleached blonde sitting way too close to you," Gen grumbles. You can feel the summer Parisian air getting stickier with humidity by the second, not at all helped by Gen's body heat so close to your own. "Besides, I can prove it."

You don't even want to think about how he could try proving something like that. You dig your elbow into his side instead. "Get off me, dummy."

His grip loosens, but he doesn't move. You manage to spin around and his hand settles on the dip of your waist, his nose brushing yours as he grins cheekily at your averted gaze. "This is the longest conversation we've had since we got here, y'know."

"It's your own damn fault you're so obnoxious," you mumble, turning your head slightly so his breaths just puff against your cheek. The sticky heat feels hushed. Charged. Your gaze snags on the flex of his arm bracing against the wall behind you.

A distraction. You need a distraction.

"Your mouth is what got you into trouble with the Japanese men's football team yesterday, too. They were going to offer us free tickets to their next home games."

"That sleepy white haired guy was looking at you too much," Gen says flatly. You finally meet his red eyes squarely as the corner of his lips tugs up. "I can get you one of those chocolate muffins you were asking him for. Besides, I was just looking out for you — as your captain." Your cheeks feel hot. "Now why don't you tell me more about what you think of my mouth?"

"I think you need to shut up."

"You can make me?"

Your nose wrinkles before you can stop yourself and Gen laughs. He finally backs off but grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together and tugging you down the alleyway. "Save your shitty pickup lines for all your new social media followers," you bite out, but you let him pull you along anyway.

"Hey," Gen says, glancing at you from beneath his bangs as you catch up to his pace. "How come you never like my thirst traps? I post those for you, y'know?"

You digest this for a moment, torn between wanting to poke fun at him for lying through his teeth (how could they be for you when you're just you? it's gotta be for the thousands of new followers he gets every day now that he's an Olympian) and speaking aloud the admission that could change your relationship forever (but only if he's serious — though it feels rude, to question him, when his hand squeezes yours).

The two of you pause at a crosswalk and he tugs you close as the crowd presses in. Paris is teeming with pedestrians and cars and it's nice, being together in your own little bubble as incomprehensible chatter fills the space around you. Gen's better at navigating the street signs and the many twisting turning side streets, so you let him lead the way and he lets you stick close.

"Where did you even learn about thirst traps, captain?" It's the middle ground, a safe route.

Gen shrugs and you stare as his broad shoulders shift beneath his stupid "Sincere" t-shirt. "I saw some of the other athletes doing it to promote their sports."

"And you think locker room photos where you flash your abs will suddenly make everyone want to join their nearest swim team?"

Red eyes cut to yours and you blink. Gen's smile is lopsided, curled like a kitty cat. You want to smack it off his face. "So you have seen them."

Of course you've seen them. Not that you needed to — a shirtless Narumi Gen is not a rare sight for you, not when you've been training under the same coach for half your lives — but the thirst traps are… different. Whoever taught him to pose so effortlessly needs to get pushed into the Seine.

"What're you talking about?"

"You know I took those pics in the locker rooms," Gen says. He sounds so smug it makes your blood boil.

"It was a lucky guess," you lie through your teeth, "locker rooms are a classic backdrop."

Gen frowns. "How do you know so much about other peoples' thirst traps?"

You're nearing your dorms in the Olympic Village, and your ear catches other languages besides French and English swimming through the air. Athletes of all shapes and sizes and nationalities begin to converge along the path. Gen tucks you closer into his side.

"Uh, I don't live under a rock," you say, only to forget the rest of your thought when someone walking in front of you glances back to meet your eyes.

He's tall, with wavy brown hair and a pretty face. Something about his build reminds you of the volleyball team you just left earlier. "Are you two Japanese?" he asks, in perfect Japanese. He's also wearing a jacket with the Argentina flag on it.

"Yes," you respond automatically.

The guy's polite smile breaks out into a wide grin. "Perfect! What sport are you here for?"

"Swimming," Gen says shortly. "Excuse me, she's having a meeting with her team captain."

"Oho? And who's that?"

"Me," Gen says. The Argentinian Japanese guy gives you a sly grin and an eyebrow wiggle. It kind of makes you want to hit him.

Gen steers you away before either of you can say anything else. Goosebumps erupt along your skin as the blast of air conditioning washes over you upon entry into the dorms and you valiantly try to suppress a shiver. The lobby is practically empty compared to outside, but a few athletes look up and eye the two of you with blatant interest.

"There are too many goddamn hot people here," Gen complains. He leads you down a hallway and flashes you a smirk. "Good thing I'm the hottest one around."

You stifle the urge to roll your eyes, well used to Gen's bursts of ego. He is hot — you won't deny that, not now — but the thing you've always been drawn to the most is how he cares. It isn't obvious, like with any of your previous relationships. Gen just works extra hard out of sight — long practices late at night when he says he stayed up gaming, not knowing that you spotted him hoisting himself out of the pool under the moonlight, droplets glistening along every dip and plane of his muscled back.

Gen also doesn't interact much with the rest of Team Japan, but they all rally around him as their captain. Everyone is aware that they can depend on him to anchor their relays or direct them to the right venues because he's seemingly picked up a lot of useful phrases in those international video game lobbies (and in the quick study language books you've spotted hidden beneath the mess of his rooms).

You don't think he knows that you know any of this about him.

You don't know if it matters.

Gen ushers you into a room as you ruminate, shutting the door behind you and quickly shoving the mess on the floor aside so there's a clear path to his bed. You stare at him.

"Narumi… how is your dorm so messy," you ask helplessly. "We've only been here for three days."

"I have a gift," he shrugs. You can't help the laugh that bubbles up, but Gen watches you, pleased.

You shiver a little as another blast of cold air fills the room. "So what did we need to talk about, captain?"

Gen picks up a hoodie and offers it to you, watching wordlessly as you accept it and pull it on. It's oversized on you, dropping heavily to your thighs and covering your hands completely, so you shove up the sleeves as best as you can. "Thanks."

Gen turns around and crouches on the floor. "I can't do this. Fuck."

Uh, oh. Is the stress of competing at the Olympics getting to him?

"Um…" you crouch next to him and hesitate a second before resting your palm on his back. He's warm through his t-shirt, the shift and bunch of his muscles annoyingly attractive even as worry bubbles up in your chest. "Are you… good?"

"You'resofuckingcuteIwannadie."

You rub his back a little harder. "Narumi-kun?"

"I wanna eat you out."

Your hand freezes. Gen shoves his hands roughly through his hair and peeks over at you, a tiny frown on his lips. Red eyes skip over your face — pausing on your softly parted lips, your eyes wide with shock, the way your cheeks puff with a stuttered breath. You don't know if you should bolt or play it off as a joke. Years of a (mostly) friendly rivalry stack up in the back of your mind like weights.

You've always been rivals and teammates. Never competing directly against each other in the pool, but always there, ready to egg each other on to faster and better times. Supporting each other through muscle cramps and plateaus and practices beginning before sunrise.

But you haven't talked to him in the three days since coming to Paris.

"I want you," he says clearly, twisting his body to catch your hands in his own, "to cum all over my face wearing nothing but my hoodie."

"Narumi…"

"Just one chance," Gen says. He brings your hands to his chest and flattens your palms against his heart, so that you can feel the rabbit fast beat thundering away. "Give me one shot, and if you don't fall for me or my dick, I'll leave you alone and you can flirt with all the other Japanese athletes."

"You're lying," you mutter. You can't quite look him in the eye, so you focus on the pout of his lips instead. "There's no way you'd leave me alone. And I wasn't flirting, I was trying to get as many freebies and tickets as possible."

Gen keeps both of your hands pressed to his chest as he reaches up to tilt your face towards him. You squeeze your eyes shut. "I wouldn't leave you alone because there's no way you'd leave me after I'm done with you."

You can feel his thumb brush lightly along the soft skin beneath your eye. This conversation feels incomprehensible. You can barely hear yourself over the thundering of your own heartbeat. "You'd be done with me?"

He cups your face with his hand and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter. "Never."

The first time Gen kisses you, it's soft and hesitant, like he still expects you to pull away even after all this time. His lips are careful against yours, his tongue gentle as he swipes along the seam of your lips. You part them with a quiet gasp, an unspoken agreement, and his next kiss is a little hungrier, a little harsher. Heat bubbles up in your ribcage as he brings you into his lap, manhandling you in a way that makes your head rush, his hands heavy on your hips.

You clutch at his shoulders and sink your hand into his hair when he nips at your lip, drawing out a startled little sound and jerking in his lap. The movement brings you right up against the thick, hot bulge of him in his gray sweatpants. Gen pants into your mouth as he carefully, slowly rolls his hips up into yours, watching with hooded eyes when your head falls back at the feeling.

"You're so fucking hot," he mumbles, leaning up to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin of your neck. You feel the sharp nip of teeth and flinch, but he soothes the spot with his tongue before you can protest. "You've got a qualifying swim tomorrow, yeah? Hold on, let me loosen you up for it."

Gen reaches up and snags the blanket off his bed, spreading it out behind you before laying you down on it like something precious. He stays close, pressing his body along yours as he kisses his way along your neck, drinking in your stuttered breaths and quiet little gasps like he's been waiting his whole life to hear them. "N-Narumi —"

"Here, babe, let me —" Gen's ears are bright red, but he drags your pants and undies off in one movement, tugging when they snag at your knees and ankles and tossing them aside impatiently. "Fuck, is all this for me?"

Rough hands shove your thighs apart and you squirm, hot beneath the thick plush of his hoodie. Gen kisses along your bare legs, his touch feather soft at the bend of your knee and the curve of your thigh, so you get no warning when his tongue swipes broadly up your center.

You choke.

"Ha — oh, fuck — Narumi —"

"Quit calling me that," Gen huffs, diving back in like a man starved. He moans right into your pussy and you squirm, eyes clenching shut as every nerve ending lights up and dances like sparks to your core. His tongue is relentless, dipping and digging into every fold, circling your clit and tugging it into his lips so he can suck on it lightly, sending all of your thoughts spiraling into a crash of pleasure. Gen yanks your hips closer to his face as you begin to ride his tongue, chasing the overwhelming ache between your legs and throwing your arm over your face as you sob.

"Oh, please, please Narumi fuck," you yelp as he sucks particularly harshly at your clit. You peer shakily down and meet his eyes — darkened with lust — as he raises one eyebrow at you in wordless command.

Gen slides one finger into your clenching walls and crooks it, massaging a spot that makes you gush around him until you feel tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. You're so — so close —

"Gen, please," you moan.

He hums and resumes the lightning fast flick of his tongue against your clit, the pattern and pressure somehow exactly right to send you diving over the edge of your orgasm with a cry. Oh — wow. Pleasure whites out your vision for a moment and dances at the edges as you blink helplessly at the ceiling afterwards.

"You've gotta be naked when we fuck, come on, babe," Gen mutters roughly, his hands haphazard as he pulls the hoodie off and takes the rest of your clothes with it. There's a brief moment of closeness as he reaches around you to fumble at your bra, his chin glistening with your essence as he scrunches his nose in concentration.

Gen notices your look. He wipes off his chin clumsily with the back of his arm and finally tosses your bra aside, his tongue poking out the side of his mouth as he eyes your tits. "You have no idea," he says, gaze flicking to yours and softening. "You've got no fucking idea how much you've haunted me."

"Your clothes," you remind him petulantly, reaching for the edge of his shirt. Gen gets the hint and immediately starts stripping, cursing under his breath when his foot gets caught in his briefs and grinning when you giggle at him. Miles of smooth, strong muscle are revealed inch by inch. You reach up to brush your hands along the divots of his abs. "I think your thirst traps are going to get flagged, by the way."

Gen covers you with his body again, interrupting your blatant ogling. The heat and weight of him is welcome. You whine at the brush of his cock against your thighs. "You totally saw them."

"They're practically nudes, Gen," you complain, nose wrinkling at the taste of yourself on his tongue when he dips down to kiss you. "You can't share your v-line on social media."

He's so warm and solid and strong against you, his hand cupping your tit and squeezing as he watches you twitch in his hold. "I need you to cum on my cock," he says, his tone low and desperate. "I've wanted this for so long —"

You reach between your bodies and slide your hand along his dick, smearing precum along the shaft and shivering at the silky length of him. "Get inside me, then."

Gen groans as the head of his cock prods against your entrance, his face falling into your neck as he pushes just the tip inside. You can't help but clench at the feeling, fingers digging into his shoulders at the sudden stretch. It's a little bit painful, but in a good way, a pleasant, aching sort of way.

He pulls back just enough to push in a little further, short, aborted little thrusts that only serve to wind the coil in your gut tighter with every sharp grunt from his lips. Gen's cock is thick, stretching you just right and prodding against your insides until he's finally sheathed fully in your welcoming heat.

"Quit that," he mumbles, his breaths hot at your ear. "Are you trying to make me spill early?"

"Gen," you say suddenly, the thought piercing through the pleasure filled haze of your mind like an arrow, "what about a condom?"

"I'll pull out," he promises. Gen lifts his head enough to meet your eyes. "I'm clean. I got tested before we flew out."

"I did, too," you remind him. "We all did."

"Well, I've only wanted you, and you were ignoring me for three days…"

You stare up at him. "Are you seriously pouting about that with your dick inside me?"

Gen snorts and takes that moment to roll his hips, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he bites down a groan. You shiver, heat flaring hot up your spine at the messy, wet noises coming from where the two of you are joined. He gives you an expectant look.

"I'm clean, Gen, I've been too busy trying not to get run over by a car to sleep with anybody and besides, why would I want to when I couldn't stop thinking about you — oh you bastard," your voice trails off with a moan as he begins fucking you in earnest, his hips rolling perfectly to hit every soft spot inside you.

Your hands slide from his shoulders to his arms as he fucks you into the thick blanket and the floor, grabbing on for dear life as the shivering coil tightens and aches inside you. Gen huffs when you wrap your legs around his trim waist, grabbing at your ankle after a few thrusts and propping it up on his shoulder. The new angle makes you sob breathlessly, clenching around him desperately, and when he props your other ankle up you snap.

"Gen, Gen, Gen, fuck —"

The strong, relentless slap of his hips against the backs of your thighs fill your ears, the bounce and jiggle of your tits a mere afterthought of discomfort as he throws you over the edge with every perfect nudge of his cock against your inner walls. Gen curses under his breath but watches every expression flash across your face, bullying his cock through your orgasm as your pussy tries to suck him in for good.

"You're so fucking hot, babe, so fucking good for me I'm gonna — gonna cum, fuck."

You feel his cock throb inside you an instant before he pulls out, head hanging low as he spills all over your stomach up to your chest. Warm, wet seed smears along your skin as he leans against your propped up legs to breathe, a stretch you'd normally complain about except you can't quite feel your legs, anyway.

You glance down and squint at the hair between his legs. "Gen…"

"Yeah, babe?"

"Did you dye your pubes?"

Gen laughs and carefully removes your ankles from his shoulders, snagging a towel from the floor to wipe your body clean. "I told you I could prove it."

"I can't believe you," you laugh. You feel boneless. Satiated. Warm. "And you did bite me, you dummy. I'll still have marks during my race tomorrow."

"Good," Gen says smugly, pulling you up to drag his hoodie back over your body. You snuggle into the warmth willingly, yanking him down with you until his head rests against your chest and his legs tangle with yours. "I'm not done with you, anyway. How are your legs? And your back?"

"Will you massage them for me?" you ask sleepily. It's nice, combing your fingers through his hair with his arms wrapped around you. Gen folds into you like he fits, even though he's bigger than you. It makes your chest ache. "I'm not stiff right now, but maybe later."

"I'll give you a chocolate muffin, too," he mumbles. "The filling would taste pretty good on your skin."

"That's a waste of a perfectly good muffin," you frown. "Gen, promise you won't waste the muffin like that."

Gen leans into your hands as you scratch gently at his scalp and the soft, fluffy strands. "I promise the muffins are safe. No promises on ever letting you go, though."

You can't keep the silly smile from spreading across your face. Thank goodness he can't see you grinning like a fool. "That works for me."

Bonus:

"Babe! Babe," the anguished yell makes you flinch, but you'd recognize that voice anywhere. The area around the pool is crowded with swimmers getting ready for the next event, though neither of you are competing in this round.

"What the hell, Gen?" you yank him aside, hiding behind a few obnoxiously tall swimmers in case any cameras are trained your way. "We're supposed to be supporting our kouhai! What's wrong?"

"My account got banned," Gen says. You want to kiss the pout off his lips. Red eyes flick up to meet yours and his pout curls into a smarmy grin. "Lookin' good in the suit, babe."

"Shut up," you shove his face away and he laughs, catching your hand and lacing your fingers together. You turn away to hide your grin but he kisses your temple and you know he sees the curve of your lips.

"What? Can't a guy compliment his girl?"

"I reported your account for indecent exposure."

"HAH?!"

[the-1who-n3vr-writes]

᯽☆«Masterlist»☆𖧷

(Also, just a heads up, i take forever to write. I mean it. I take F O R E V E R to REPLY TO ATLEAST ONE REQUEST.)

Requests: Closed…

Fandoms!

(Its only a bit..)

(TDD) The dummy’s dummy

— Paris

— Polakov (still slightly struggling with his personality)

— Yumi Wright (PLATONIC. P L A T O N I C.)

— Lily Lalah

— Iris Lalah

— Darla

— Dorothy

— Nora and Atsuko Wright

— That Soldier toy / Timmy

꧁ ❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎ ꧂

(TADC) The amazing digital circus

— Jax (of course)

— Ragatha

— Zooble

— Pomni

— Kinger

— Caine

— Gangle

— Kaufmo

꧁ ❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎︎ ꧂

(WH) Welcome home

— Wally

— Julie

— Howdy

— Barnaby

— Eddie

— Frank

— poppy

— Sally

What i will write:

Angst (im a sucker for angst /srs)

Polyamorous relationships

Romantic relationships

Platonic relationships

Light Suggestive content

Yandere

Headcannon’s

Comedy

Reader requests

Oneshots

Horror

part for part oneshots (?)

Gore

Oc’s x char

Tropes (ex: Enemies to lovers, etc.)

What i will NOT write:

Proshipping

Character x character (srry, this is an x reader only blog.)

Bad shit

Character x Oc

Any smut. Sorry, but go find another blog to dump your lustful tendencies.

ANY, unheathy k!nks.. (ex: piss k!nks)

(You get my point shdhhd)

[myrequestblog]

Request Rules and My Favorite Characters

I can do other characters, but if you don’t specify which characters you want I will choose from these

Undertale AUs:

Classic

Swap

Fell

Nightmare

Dream

Ink

Error

Geno

Reaper

Fresh

Paperjam

Fellswap

Swapfell

Horror

G

Mafiafell (Sooner or Later You’re Gonna Be Mine)

Grillby AUs

Gaster AUs

Flowey AUs

FNaF DCA:

Sun

Moon

Eclipse

City of Blank:

Jericho

Claude (I will only write gay headcannons for him. Sorrynotsorry)

Rex

Black Butler:

I refuse to do Ciel or Alois, unless the reader is of similar age

Sebastian

Grell

Undertaker

Madam Red

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Gojo

Yuji

Maki

Geto

Mahito (He’s an jack@$$ and I hate what he did but he’s hot)

Sukuna

Toji

That one white and blue curse that almost killed Yuji, and that I’ve decided to call ‘Akuma’ (Mostly platonic and/or pet-owner type relationships (Keyword ‘mostly’))

Hunter X Hunter:

I refuse to do Gon or Killua, unless the reader is of similar age

Hisoka

Illumi

Chrollo

Demon Slayer:

(I refuse to do any minors x reader, unless the reader is of similar age)

Kagaya (Platonic/parental only)

Giyu

Shinobu

Rengoku

Mitsuri and Obanai (All headcannons with these two are gonna be poly)

Muchiro (Parental/fraternal/platonic only)(He’s a minor)

Uzui

Muzan

Rui (Parental/fraternal/platonic only)(Minor technically)

All upper ranks aside from 4 and 5

Enmu

Sabito

Senjuro

Dummy’s Dummy:

Paris

The Lalah twins

Polakov (We’ve been conditioned to hate him and have no major reason to actually dislike him. It aint his fault he’s like this. Blame Ivan.)

Ivan

The Toy Soldier

Creepypasta:

Slenderman

Splendorman

Offenderman

Jeff the Killer

Jane the Killer

Eyeless Jack

Laughing Jack (Mainly gay headcannons for him)

Candypop

Ticci Toby

Masky and Hoodie (All headcannons with these two are gonna be poly)

Jason the Toymaker

Ben Drowned

Lost Silver

Zalgo

Evil

John Doe:

John Doe

House Hunted:

Maison

Yandere Simulator:

Yan-Chan

Rivals

Senpai

Gaster Gang:

Wingdings

Swap

Fell

Stars

Blindy

Swapfell

The void anomalies (Pet-owner relationships only)

Welcome Home Wally AUs:

Wally Darling

Reboot Wally

Lovesick Wally

Watcher Wally

Rainbow Factory Wally

Opposite Wally

Mob+Mafia Wallys

Other Wally AUs

Sally Face:

Sal/Sally Face

Larry

Ash

Trevor

Fran Bow:

Only platonic etc. relationships

Fran Bow

Mr Midknight

Itward

Deltarune:

Kris

Ralsei

Suzie and Noelle (Only lesbian poly for them, sorry)

Ralsei

Jevil

The Amulet Series:

Trellis

Emily

Gabilan

Max

Misket

Riva

Leon

SCP:

(Too many to say, but to start with-)

The indestructible lizard

The plague doctor

SCP-914 "The Clockwork Machine"

The shy guy

"God"

Doctor Bright

Able

A LOT more

Hazbin Hotel:

Charlie and Vaggie (Only romantic options for them is lesbian poly)

Alastor (Platonic, parental, friendship only. I’m sticking with the cannon that he is AroAce. Sorry 😅)

Angel and Husk (Gay poly is the only romantic options here. If u don’t like it, just keep it to yourself.)

Vox

Valentinto (He’s the worst person in existence but he’s damn sexy (unfortunately). We can all agree on that. I won’t make my bias against him known in the requests, I promise.)

Velvette

Lucifer

Adam (Because some people like him🤷 )

Rosie

Lute

Lilith (Or my depiction of her)

Carmilla

Zestial

Sera

Able (Or my depiction of him)

Wicked:

Elpheba

Gelenda/Glenda

Feyaro

Dr.Dillimin (Platonic/adopted child/friendship relationships only because of the obvious 🐐 )

Homicipher:

Mr.Crawling

Mr.Scarletella

If you have headcanons to ask for but don’t have anything specific in mind, use some emojis:

🥰 Fluff

🥀 Angst

🔞 Smut (Smut will be kept private unless the asker wishes to share)

😎 Chaos

🤩 Reader has powers/magic

🥳 Birthday Ask

🤕 Injured Reader

🤒 Sick Reader

🙅 Platonic

🫀 Yandere

🪢 Soulmate AU

🏳️‍🌈 LGBTQ

🐣 Reader is a Child

😺 animal or animal-related reader

👾 IRL reader

⚙ Using SCP-914

❤️/🧡/💛/💚/💙/💜/🖤/🤍 Reader Has a Specific Soul Color

💀 Undertale

🌓 DCA

👤 City of Blank

🤵‍♂️ Black Butler

👻Jujutsu Kaisen

🪪 Hunter X Hunter

🗡️ Demon Slayer

🪡 Dummy’s Dummy

🔪 Creepypasta

👁️ John Doe

🏚️ House Hunted

💘 Yandere Simulator

🕳️ Gaster Gang

🎨 Welcome Home Wally AUs

🏡 Welcome Home

🎭 Sally Face

👧 Fran Bow

⚜️ Deltarune

📿 Amulet

❓ SCP

😈 Hazbin Hotel

👹 Homicipher

🪄 Harry Potter

🧙‍♀️ Wicked

(Example: 🐣+😎+👤 would be ‘Young reader causing chaos in the City of Blank’)

✅✅✅:

Fluff

Suggestive ideas or themes

Platonic Child X Parental figure

OC X Character

Fandom Crossovers

Yanderes

Character X Pregnant!Reader

Homosexuality

Heterosexuality

Polyamory

Depression

Anxiety

Mental Illnesses

Black Lives Matter

Any and all religious beliefs are welcome, however I know very little about most religions, so please be gentle with me

Death

Dealing with death

Pain (physical or emotional)

Injuries

Traumatic accidents or happenings

Bad parenting

Memes

Vines

Puns

Commented ideas

Suggestive

Having characters avoid their cannon death

Nicknames for characters

Furry-related content

Trans reader

Gay reader

Lesbian reader

Bi reader

Pan reader

LGBTQ readers welcome

Readers and characters with different nationalities

Readers and characters with different skin tones

Readers and characters who speak other languages

Readers and characters who are different species

Readers and characters with disabilities

Readers and characters with autism

Readers and characters with mental abnormalities

Readers and characters with physical abnormalities

Readers and characters with physical ailments

Readers and characters with varying levels of intelligence

Readers and characters with trauma

Readers and characters with conditions like vitiligo

Readers and characters who need things like a cane, a wheelchair, or limb braces

Young reader

Pyrotechnics ❤️‍🔥

Fandom crossovers (Highly encouraged for SCP ideas)

Age regression

Settings in different countries and continents

Truth or dare

❌❌❌:

Pedophillia

Necrophillia (Unless the person who is ‘dead’ becomes ‘the walking dead and can give permission’)

Power plays (unless sexual and with permission from the partner)

Sexual assault or r@p3

Homophobia

Transphobia

(What’s another phobia- we don’t like spiders either. Spiders are ugly)

Rac*sm

Abuse of any kind, unless part of and/or needed for a backstory or something

Politics

Hate crimes

Alcoholism

Drugs

Human trafficking

Child abuse

Underage drinking

Death of major characters

Death of comfort characters

Slurs

Smut (Suggestive stuff is a yes but a no on smut. Sorry peeps)

This account is SPECIFICALLY for requests.

ALL OF THIS IS COMPLETELY FREE!

Most of these will be in headcannon form or incorrect quotes but feel free to ask for something different!

I often update this post so remember to check every once and awhile.

If you have questions or concerns, let me know!

Main blog:

[fuwushiguro]

I Got Lost In Foreign Lands

chapter four | masterlist | chapter six

Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!Reader

Genre: Smut & Angst with horror/thriller elements Notes: The reader in this fic is such a lil dummy I love her 🥺 Warnings: 18+, dubcon, age gap, oral (m and f receiving), hair pulling, fingering, over stimulation, daddy kink, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, free use??, aftercare, voyeurism?? (ish idk), gaslighting, manipulation, toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, drug consumption (cocaine), objectification, cock worship. Words: 4.8k

Synopsis: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.

There were only so many times you could lie to Toji. There was only so many times you could lie to yourself. The moment the offer left his lips there was no way you weren’t going to join him and stay at his brand-new cabin for a few days. You couldn’t squeeze much information out of your dad about Toji’s identity. Just a business associate from back in the day, apparently. As much as you wanted to press for further information, you couldn’t. You couldn’t because there was only one response that would follow that particular line of questioning.

Why are you so interested in Toji?

Oh, you’re only interested because he fucks your brains out on a regular basis and want to know if he has any ulterior motives. Although it’s true he was just as flabbergasted to discover that you had a mutual connection via your father, you still couldn’t deny you were suspicious.

And yet, still, here you are. Driving up in your pretty pink Bugatti to his cabin for a week. And why shouldn’t you? You’re lonely. You’re bored and have zero responsibilities. Nobara is still refusing to speak to you. And, you’re hornier than ever now that you know you have constant access to Toji.

“Still can’t believe that car you got baby,” he tells you as he welcomes you inside. “you really are a fuckin’ cliché.” he carries on teasing. You pout cockily at him, knowing he is absolutely correct in his teasing. Toji walks backwards with ease through the cabin while you slowly follow him. “Just a spoilt daddy’s girl. Ain’tcha?” he halts, allowing you to close the gap between the two of you.

“Shut up.” you demand, cupping his face with your right hand while his settles in the small of your back.

You’re both silenced when your lips crash against each other. His large hands force your body further into his. He thinks he might drop dead if he can’t feel you closer.

Closer.

Closer.

You’ll never be close enough.

You start tearing each other’s clothes off with a vengeance. The clothes you arrived at the cabin in are soon discarded all around from the entrance to the living room. He settles you down on one of the enormous cream couches before dropping to his knees like a peasant in the eyes of royalty. He forces your legs open as wide as possible, taking his time to enjoy the sight of your sodden folds. Truly beguiled by your slippery, aroused flesh.

“Missed this pussy baby, fuck I missed her.” he admits, immediately lowering his mouth onto your sex.

You groan instantly. The very idea that he missed your pussy so much he’d rather pleasure you than immediately get his dick wet is so arousing to you. You can’t help but tug on his obsidian locks, and he encourages it.

“Fuck,” he hisses, slipping a finger into your clenching cunt. “harder, fuckin’ pull harder princess.”

You do when he turns into a slobbering animal as he devours your slick. The slurping and suckling on your throbbing clit make your toes curl and your voice become lost in your lungs. There’s nothing you can expel aside from moans and squeals. The way his tongue laps at your sensitive bead forces your eyes to roll into the back of your head. It’s so noisy and so wet.

“Toji… ‘m not gonna last.” you explain.

He doesn’t care, this is exactly what he wants. He wants you to come undone from his masterful tongue and cream his face. And it’s such a pretty face. Your heart grows ten sizes whenever you look at him. Those shimmering green eyes. His smoother than silk skin. Even that scar. The only way you know he can look prettier is when his face is covered in your juices.

“Ah-! Fuck-! T-Toji, please! R-Right there, don’t, don’t fucking stop!” you keen, hips bucking wildly as you chase the thrill of your oncoming orgasm. He doesn’t stop. He wouldn’t dare stop when he knows you’re so close. So fucking close for him. He reaches up and forces two fingers into your mouth. You do your best to stop moaning so that you can wet them for him. Sucking and hollowing your cheeks like a perfect whore for him. He pulls them out, looking up to see sticky spit strings and bubbles covering his fingers. He cups your breast softly, the chilled spit from his fingers interacts with your pebbled nipple. The contact earns an excitable hum from you. “’m cumming, fuck Toji I’m cu-mming, nngh—!”

He doesn’t mind one bit when your thighs clamp around his head. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy. And he’s doubly elated when your pretty pussy gushes her sweet juice for him to drink. Your body jolts and spasms as he does his best to consume every last drop from your cunt.

Once he’s through fingering you to the end of your release, he splits your legs back open to witness what he’s done to you. What he’s done to your gorgeous sex. It’s quivering and clamping around nothing – because of him. He offers it a wet, slow slap and you jump in surprise. You’re so overstimulated, a few tears manage to spill out of your eyes.

“Don’t cry princess. She was so good for me. My good, pretty girls, right? Whaddya say, hm? What do you say when daddy makes you cum?” he husks at you, not caring an inch about how lewd he appeared as he straightened on his knees so that you could view him properly. His lips, nose and chin positively soaked in your cum.

“Thank you, daddy, Fuck. Thank you, that was incredible. Made me cum so hard, feel my heart.” you instruct as you grab his hand and force it to your chest. The thump thump thump in your chest is obscene.

“That’s cause you love me y’know.” he tells you, bending down to sensually kiss your inner thighs. The soft, sweet kisses make your head loll back before you force it upright again to watch him worship your body. You want to object. You want to fight him each and every step of the way before confessing your love to him for the first time. But how can you when he looks so perfectly sweet between your legs?

“Want you to fuck me…” you mutter, your breath jittering as you try and collect your thoughts. You don’t want to tell him you love him. But there is another way you like to show your love. “Want you to… use me.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, shivering as you do. It’s freezing, you’re in the middle of nowhere surrounded by blankets of snow and currently ass naked in the living room. He can’t have that. He won’t have that. If your love language is allowing him to use you as his own personal fuck toy, he’s happy to oblige. He scoops you up and places you down on the fur rug by the fire. The orange and yellow embers are dancing. Or are they fighting? You can’t help but stare, utterly enamoured by the flames display. Toji wastes no time widening your legs once again; you don’t even notice he’s doing it. How can you be so captivated by something as simple as fire?

Your breath hitches when he bullies his cock into you, though. Starting with his threatening cock head. The stretch is impeccable, and you wince through each and every inch of his cock slipping inside of you. Your legs wrap around him, keeping him securely in place. His left hand relaxes on your hip while his opposite forearm holds his entire body up as it remains by your shoulder.

“Wanna get you nice ‘n warm before I use your cunt, alright?” he tells you and you nod. But that isn’t good enough for him. Your cheeks are squashed by his large hands until you’re pouting adorably for him. “Let me hear ya, wanna hear a 'yes' darlin’.”

“Yes, Toji. Make me warm.” you tell him, granting him the verbal consent and permission to use you as he sees fit.

It’s nothing too spectacular, just regular ol’ missionary to start. When he’s inside of you as far as he can go, he begins with nothing more than a simple roll of his hips. He didn’t prep you too well, and he knows his cock is huge. And Christ you know it too. So, he begins slow and steady, getting you used to his impressive size. You do carry on wincing for a while, but it’s silenced when he encases your glossy lips in a soothing kiss. Grunts become trapped in his throat while his lips are on yours, only able to be released through his nose in a heavy breath.

You don’t know if he feels it too, but you feel like you’re having sex with him for the first time. The head you just received was immaculate, of course. It always is. But this… the feeling of him actually being inside you is different than the other times. He always knows what to do with you and you know how to work with each other. He still knows what to do with you, but right now it feels a little clumsy. Messy kissing and shallow grinding.

You wonder if it’s because of you’ve been away from each other.

Toji steals you away from your thoughts as he finally begins to thrust.

Slowly… slowly… faster… a little faster… faster… holy shit.

There he is. There’s the cervix kissing, dirty talking Toji you know and love. The Toji that puts his weight behind each and every thrust until your lungs have emptied and you can only see the blackness behind your eyes. He knows you can take it, and better still, he knows you love it.

“Doin’ so fucking good f’me princess,” he expresses, mumbling into your lips before kissing you once more, “takin’ my cock so fuckin’ well baby.”

There is no way to stop yourself from staring into his eyes. God, you love him. Should you tell him? Is it appropriate to tell him now? No, you think, now isn’t the time. But you just can’t help how your heart fills with adoration as you stare intently into his gorgeous green eyes. Nothing else in the room matters, nothing but him. You wrap your arms around your lovers back, wanting him closer. Even without clothes on and with him literally inside of you, you too understand Toji’s concern that you won’t ever be close enough.

He emits a heavy, raspy groan followed by a string of curses. “No- for fuck sake no. Didn’t wanna—”

You had a feeling what had bothered him when he began to speak. But it was confirmed when you felt a searing heat unloading into your textured walls and threatening to enter your womb. It doesn’t bother you, that he couldn’t hold out for longer. You wanted him to use you to get off, and he did. And this one fuck didn’t matter. You have more than enough time in this cabin to christen every single room in the place.

And hopefully you have the rest of your lives too.

He gathers you up into his arms, and you’ve now officially lost how many times he’s done this since you got here. Three, you think. But you highly doubt this will be the last time. With both of you naked, sticky and cooling down once again, he decides you both ought to clean yourselves up.

“You’re gonna love the tub baby, it’s huge. Gonna run a bath just for you�� with bubbles.”

He was right. You loved the tub. It was enormous, so very spacious and he filled it perfectly with bubbles. He stayed to clean you up, he thought it's the least he could do after he came too quick. And he thought something as intense as ‘using’ you demanded proper aftercare.

He massaged shampoo into your hair and sensually rubbed each and every inch of your body. It made him laugh to discover how ticklish you are under your arms. You got payback for his tickle torture by throwing water out of the tub and all over his body. He even got a few bubbles on him. He was officially freezing after that; he was still bare bodied from fucking you after all. Toji threatened to get into the tub with you to warm himself up, but there was no intent behind it. Instead, he rinsed your hair and smoothed conditioner through from the tips to the roots.

“I love you, princess.” he whispers casually. He wants you to say it back. God he so badly wants you to say it back, but he’s a simple fool if he thinks you will. Instead, you cup his face with each of your hands and press your lips against him. You hope it’ll be enough to satiate him. You want it to be enough for now, but both of you know it isn’t. He’ll never be satisfied until you come out with those three little words. You pull away, licking your lips and savouring his taste.

“I…” you begin, don’t get his hopes up. Don’t do this to him. “I think I could fall in love with you… easily.”

He smirks, letting out a defeated exhale and a nod. That’s the best he’s going to get. But he hopes that isn’t the best he’s going to get forever. One day you’ll tell him, won’t you? You will, because you do. You know this is love and you hate it because it goes against everything you believe. You feel like a stupid Disney princess who falls in love after one conversation and getting married to that same person. It isn’t right, but why else do you feel like this?

“Rinse while I get you a towel.” he tells you.

He’s disappointed, clearly. Who wouldn’t be? But you do as instructed and begin using the shower head to remove all trace of conditioner from your cold, damp locks. The texture is so different to usual, it’s something you can’t help but notice as your fingers lace between. Maybe it’s the products that he used. It feels nice, better than usual. You smile to yourself and hope he doesn’t notice. Only because you feel so stupid for thinking this way; you wonder if it’s because he loves you.

He wraps you up in the warmest, fluffiest towels he can find. They’re pristine white and you feel oh so heavenly as he rubs his hands up and down your torso, wanting the friction to warm you further.

You go to the room Toji tells you is the one you’ll be sharing. Your suitcases are still downstairs, so you sit on the edge of the bed for a moment while you wait for him to return. Your pyjamas are in there, after all.

He returns with your luggage in hand, surprised to discover you slipping one of his own t-shirts on.

“Couldn’t wait?” he asks. You shake your head, bending over to unzip your case to find some panties. “Does it even fit?”

You step into a white pair of lacy panties and ignore his question. It doesn’t matter that you don’t have the same body type as him and the t-shirt doesn’t fit exactly right. It belongs to him. It smells of him. And you feel comfortable enough in it that you don’t even bother putting on any more layers. There is a burning log fire downstairs calling your name. You plan on spending the rest of the evening sprawled on the soft fur rug warming your skin while the fire rages on and crackles in your ears.

Toji slaps your ass, telling you he’s going in the shower and he won’t be long. You find your AirPods in your bag, descending the stairs after putting on your favourite playlist. With your phone in one hand and hairbrush in the other, you’re barely focusing on your footing as you stroll through the house. And yet, somehow, you miraculously make it down the stairs with no injuries.

You plant yourself on the sofa, finishing off brushing your hair before tossing it aside. It lands a little too close to the fire for your liking. It’s plastic, you don’t want it to melt and ruin the flooring. So, you get up to retrieve it and set it down on the coffee table. The heat from the fire begins to warm up the backs of your legs and your ass. Maybe you should just stay right here. It’s so cosy. You stand up straight so that you can sit comfortably on the rug.

An eerie scream rips from your throat as you look out of the floor to ceiling windows. Your phone flees from your hand, thankfully dropping on the soft rug beneath your feet.

There are two men standing there, all wrapped up in warm winter clothes. One of them is smiling, the other looks a little more straight faced and serious. The one who was smiling begins to wave at you now that you’ve noticed him. You don’t remember walking onto the set of a fucking horror movie; this cannot be real life. A few strands of hair poke out of his beanie, you almost wouldn’t have noticed since his hair is as white as the snow covering the entire mountain.

You pause the music playing through your AirPods, unsure of how to proceed. If they do want to take you hostage and steal Toji’s money, they’ll only lie if you ask them any questions. But you suppose if they were going to break in, they would have done so by now. There are plenty of rocks outside they could have broken the windows in with, and yet they’re standing watching you so casually.

They’re awestruck by how confidently you stand in your cute little panties and t-shirt. All of your weight rests on one hip as you observe them, sizing them up and debating what course of action you should take. You suspect they’re doing the same, ogling you like you’re a piece of meat. Or perhaps that’s in your head, you wouldn’t blame them for staring. You’re scantily dressed and showing no trace of shame. Oozing complete confidence with a disgusted look on your face as if you own the building you’re standing in.

The tell-tale sound of old-fashioned metal taps squeaking tells you that Toji is finished with his speedy shower. They don’t hear it, but you do. Maybe they think that you’re here alone and they can easily overpower you while they rob the place. They’ll be in for a rude awakening when Toji comes down and they see the size of him. He has the physique of a body builder and the strength to lift you as if you were nothing.

Once you hear the door open and close you know that Toji is going to come and find you. He turns a corner and slowly descends the stairs. Each creak and squeal from every step he takes shoots right through your body. It gets closer, and closer.

He approaches you, hair slicked back and body glistening with droplets of water. His scent is overpowering. Such a manly shower gel mixed with some of the more feminine smelling products he bought for you. It was intoxicating. As much as you wanted to jump him right here and now, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the window. Not even when he spoke your name. Or when he tried to move your face to look at him. Finally, he turns to see what you’re staring at so eerily. And he is very glad he wrapped a towel around his waist before coming downstairs.

“You’re early!” he yells.

You do look at him now. He knows them. And not only that, he invited them here. This was meant to be your time together. Why had he invited other people here? And you can’t even begin to think why he wouldn’t tell you about it. Your mind has been racing through all of the worst-case scenarios as they studied you through the glass. He lets them in while you’re still trying to process why this is even happening. They talk. They greet each other. They shake hands. They laugh.

“C’mere baby, come meet my friends.” Toji commands. You slowly approach, apprehensive about being in the presence of three men in the 6ft plus club. Even if you were the size of the Statue Of Liberty you’re sure you’d still struggle to feel safe in a situation like this. “This is Gojo,” he speaks, directing your attention to the tallest of the three. The alabaster haired man who’d been smiling cheekily at you from outside.

“Honoured to meet you, finally. Toji won’t stop going on about his new girlfriend.” he grins. Girlfriend? You suppose it makes sense. What else are you? He couldn’t have made it clearer that he’s in love with you while you’re shying away from your own feelings. The feelings are what makes this a relationship. You’ve evolved past senseless screwing. He’s your boyfriend. It feels weird to think someone as old as Toji has a girlfriend.

He should have a wife.

“And I’m Kento Nanami,” he holds his hand out for you to shake as if you’re a business associate. You take it, of course, wanting to be polite to Toji’s friends. “Nice to meet you.”

You introduce yourself, telling his friends your name. It’s odd, still, that he didn’t mention this. They’re going to be staying here the whole time with you guys, and he didn’t mention it. Why? At least they seem nice enough. It could be… fun. At least you definitely won’t have a shortage of male attention. You’ll keep that to yourself though, as long as you look but don’t touch.

You’re sure Toji won’t mind.

“Could I talk to you upstairs?” you ask Toji, he nods.

You catch him pull a teasing face to his friends as if he’s performing and trying to impress them. Like he knows he’s in trouble and he’s trying to make light of the situation. You’ve seen many sides of him you don’t like. The manipulator and the liar in him that manages to get you falling for his sick spiel every single time without fail. But this is the worst. The fucking performative male college asshole act, it’s like he’s going through a midlife crisis. But maybe that’s what this is. Maybe that’s what you are.

“You could have told me you invited your friends out here, Toji.” you tell him, starting to look through your suitcases again for more appropriate clothing. He stops you, grabbing your hands and making you look at him.

“Tch, lighten up will ya? Thought you were all about partying and fun.”

“But—” you stop yourself from continuing as you watch his movements. He’s rummaging through your things now, and you aren’t sure what for. Eventually, he pulls out a few things. A little red dress, some high heels, and your makeup bag.

“C’mon pretty girl… gonna be daddy’s pretty baby f’me? Get dressed ‘n do your makeup all nice for daddy and his friends.” he praises, it’s sick and you both know what he’s doing. He’s trying to cover up his chauvinistic demands with compliments like he’s training a fucking dog to learn a trick. And God damn him. God fucking damn him, because it’s working. You’re nodding, finding yourself in front of the vanity table in your room while you apply a fresh layer of makeup on your newly washed face. “Gonna have some drinks ‘n have some fun with daddy, ain’tcha? Yeah ya are… ‘cause you’re my good girl.”

The night progresses and you actually manage to loosen up. It’s exactly your type of night. Enjoyable music and company, alcohol and drugs. Although you don’t do drugs as often as you used to, one night with Toji keeping an eye on you won’t do any harm. He and Nanami are ogling you as you dance with Gojo. Dropping to the balls of your feet and rising up against him with your ass before grinding it against his crotch. You turn and face him, his hand settles on your hips as you grind against each other.

Toji is surprisingly unfazed, but he’s still ready for you to return your attention back to him. He’s glad his friends approve of his pretty new piece, but you are for him only.

“Watch this,” he tells Nanami. He pulls his cock out and jerks himself off a little before dusting a small amount of coke on the tip. “Baby, c’mere, daddy wants to give you some more coke.” he explains.

You abandon Gojo to see your boyfriend sitting with his legs spread and his cock in his hand. You’re unable to feel embarrassed, immediately dropping to your knees between his open legs. Your hand replaces his to keep his member firmly in place. There is no time wasted when you spin your tongue over his sensitive cock head, the white powder igniting every nerve ending in your body and drying out your tastebuds. You swallow him whole, stealing a hesitant grunt from him as he momentarily throws his head back in ecstasy. You pull back up, repeatedly kissing his pretty pink tip.

God, you love him.

You love him.

He can see that you love him.

You’re leaving soft, chaste kisses on his cock for crying out loud.

You worship it.

You worship him.

Of course you love him.

“That’s enough, c’mon, stop it that’s enough baby. You did so good.” he proclaims, commending you on your obedience and will to please. He helps you stand upright, softly rubbing his thumbs into your bruising knees. You hadn’t been down long, but he can see little marks already forming on your skin.

“Bored of me already sweetheart? I was enjoying our dance.” Gojo comments.

You leave your boyfriend once again. Clearly whilst under the influence you are as easy to summon as a loyal dog. Maybe that’s all you are, to them. It doesn’t matter though, because you were enjoying your dance with him too. It goes on and on, you feel like you could dance forever and never get tired. One of Gojo’s arms reaches over your shoulder. You don’t even notice when he grabs a handful of your breast while you carry on grinding against him. And you definitely don’t notice the bulge in his pants forming, desperate to dig into your little slit he’s heard so much about.

“You’re so naughty,” he whispers into your ear. “Bein’ such a tease while your boyfriend is right over there watching us… careful now, you might make him jealous. Do you want him to think that you want me?” the seductive lilt and borderline inappropriate speech makes your slippery cunt wetter than it already was. Toji and Nanami can almost see it every time you bend over.

He is so glad he told you not to wear panties.

You leave Gojo one more time to see Toji. You’re straddling him, kissing his neck and grinding your wet heat into his jean-clad crotch. You could barely speak. You could barely fucking think. But he understood loud and clear. All you could tell him on a constant loop is mumblings of ‘want you daddy, wan’ you s’bad.’

He made sure your arms were wrapped around him tightly before standing to his feet. He began walking in the direction of the staircase, eager to get you to bed for the night and carry on this act of public indecency behind closed doors. He turned to face them as he reached the first step, you were still kissing him and moaning. Humping against him pathetically like a bitch in heat.

“You heard her, she wants her daddy. ‘m sure you can entertain yourselves for the night, yeah?” he smirks before continuing his journey up the stairs. “Gonna fuck you stupid y’know. Y’hear me princess? Gonna get you to bed, and I’m gonna fuck you so dumb you forget what year it is.” your lips smother his as you can’t resist waiting for them a second longer. It’s getting harder and harder for him to get up the stairs without being able to properly see, but he does. He opens the door with ease, slamming it loudly behind him.

Nanami and Gojo share the same thought as the sound of the door spikes through their hearts. A momentary feeling of terror as the unexpected volume rattles through them.

Toji Fushiguro is a lucky son of a bitch.

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© 2022 fuwushiguro

[fairytaleyaya]

chop chop hair gone - joshua hong

synopsis: during march quarantine (yes imagine its two years ago cuz i´m still in 2020) everything was shut down, including hair dressers which made it very difficult for your boyfriend Joshua whose hair was getting way too long these days, not that you complained. Until one day he asked you to cut his hair so you thought this could make a good video for your channel.

pairing: idol boyfriend! joshua x youtuber! reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none, just a bunch of fluff 

song recs: 

strawberry moon - iu 

polaroid love - enhypen

hello - joy

a/n: this is written for my lovely bestie @cuti3chw3 i love you <3 and please leave requests everyone this user needs requests 

------------------------------------------------------------

You and your cute boyfriend were just chilling on your couch, with not much to do other than watching dramas, checking emails, scrolling through social media reading fan comments. If it weren´t for this virus you two would be enjoying a relaxing spring holiday in paris, eating macaroons in front of the Eiffel tower. But you had to cancel this holiday and your detailed planning went to waste, now you were locked in your shared apartment.

Not that you complained about this extra alone time with your boyfriend, it was refreshing to finally have enough time for each other as you both are always busy with your hectic schedules. Your legs were resting on joshua´s lap while your head was on a pillow looking through your phones, when you finally spoke “I´m so bored, I hate this quarantine thing already” you pouted looking at your boyfriend. he just put a hand on your knee and said “I know baby but bear a little, you can survive staying at home for some time” You sighed, sitting up “Yeah a few weeks and it´ll be fine. Then let me go film my idk 20th ´get ready with me´ video” you stood up from the couch, walking towards your filming room “Okay but can you cut my hair after filming? It´s getting way too long” he said that with such ease that it caught you off guard, you turned on your heel to face him “Me? Don´t you have a hair dresser” you asked, forgetting that due to quarantine hair dressers are closed. “Dummy of course I do, but it´s closed” you face palmed yourself “Ah shit I forgot about that… But me? Are you sure? Like do you trust me with your hair? What if I ruin it?” he stood up to go to the kitchen, filling a glass with water “Of course I do and it´s just hair. It isn´t the end of the world if you cut a little too much” You were honestly kinda amazed at how he trusted you with his precious hair but also a bit sad because you loved how long it got. Perfect for playing with it late nights while watching movie. “But I liked the long hair…” you said, he smiled softly at your comment “I´m happy you liked it, but i´m a little uncomfortable, it´s hard to maintain the long hair I can´t even eat without tying it anymore. I respect you girls so much now.” You gave him a little kiss on his cheek and moved his long hair to the side “Then it´s the best if it gets a little shorter!” he smiled and drank a sip of the water he just got “Then go film your video, I´ll phone with jeonghan or something while you do that”

Then your mind lightened like a light bulb “Oh my god! Fuck the get ready with me, I need to film cutting your hair. Joshua Hong let´s me cut his hair and I won´t document that? Hell nah” your relationship was exposed by dispatch this new year, but thankfully both of your fans reacted in majority positive and were happy for you so Joshua often made appearances in your vlogs, you even once interviewed Seventeen, that´s how you two met. But that’s a story for another time. With all that newly found excitement you sprinted over to the filming room to prepare the camera and equipment. Joshua just laughed at you suddenly becoming hyperactivity itself while going to the bathroom, grabbing scissors and his brush, finding his way into your filming room. You were already checking your camera when he placed everything in his hands to the side, going up to you to wrap his arms around your waist, leaving a kiss on your exposed shoulder by your oversized top. “Shua! I´m working” he chuckled, leaving to let you focus on the camera “Okay okay I´m sorry babe. I´ll just cover the floor with a trash bag, else everything will become full of hair.”

Soon both of you were finally ready to start the adventure. Joshua was settled on a chair, hair damped wet so you can cut better (you watched some videos, and the hair was wet all the time, so he got rained on in the shower for you a little ;) with you behind him, holding a brush and scissors, ready to be used on his perfect hair. “Ready?” you asked because you were about to start the recording. “Sure let´s go” with that you pressed a button for the camera to start recording and rushed back to your place in the frame

Hello everyone welcome back to my channel! I´m y/n as you guys know and this is my handsome boyfriend Joshua with long hair, not for too long though you giggled so ready to drop the bomb

Hi! Joshua waved at the camera before you could start explaining what is going to happen today

So just like about 30min ago Joshua suggested my I cut his hair, because everything is shut down and his hair got so long. I love the long hair but as you guys can see from the setting, we are going to cut his hair! You won´t break up with me if I mess up right?

I won´t y/n it´s just hair!

Even if one side ends up shaved and the other one cut with the worst transitions?

Yes, I won´t die from a certain haircut, just cut it

Even if you end up bald?

You don´t even have a razor here how am I supposed to end up bald? You´re overthinking just do it

Okay guys he won´t get mad nor break up with me if I mess up, we can get to work our magic on his beautiful hair

Who said I won´t get mad? He smiled smugly

Shuaaaaa you started sulking

I´m joking babe! Come on cut it, don´t be scared

With that being said you started sectioning his hair carefully, going through every step like Brad Mondo instructed you in that tutorial you watched a few minutes ago. Soon enough you were ready to cut.

I´m going to cut! Aaah fuck I´m so nervous I´ll mess up

Language miss!

As if you don´t curse

I fucking don`t???

Got you!

Ah shut up, and go ahead

Okay hold your head still and DO NOT move you instructed and he did as you said

Oh my god shua I think your mullet is partly gone, your fans are going to kill me

They won´t and it´ll grow back in two weeks anyways, my hair grows fast

Well okay if you say so, carats please don´t get mad I loved the long hair as much as you did, your idol wants it short

Yeah cuz it´s hard to maintain!

The rest of the hair cutting process went by very quick, you got confident in no time and aced it, at least that´s what you think. There are some uneven parts where you went a little too short but the front looks nice because you weren´t as daring there, only trimming it, that way it wasn´t as easy to mess up and still looked good. Joshua told you to cut a little more and not be scared at the front but your hairstylist skills weren´t as good yet to ruin the front of his hair. And your first client wasn´t staying still all the time like you ordered him to

Shua stop moving around

I´m staying still!

No you´re not! Now please my juice box you move your head a little down to take a sip of the juice box your boyfriend is holding at your face

Being a hairstylist is hard guys I need the refreshment

Want a strawberry too? He asked holding out a strawberry to feed you

Yes please! Not gonna lie it doesn´t look that bad you admired your finished work of art

Or are you just too handsome to look bad in a hairstyle? Here a mirror

Joshua looked at himself and his hair in all angles for a whole minute before nodding his head

Yeah it looks so good, damn you´re good at this! See you didn´t ruin my hair, you´re too talented for that

Thank you, you´re flattering me shua. Now this was the video, thankfully you guys didn´t witness a fight over me ruining my boyfriend´s hair. 100k likes and I´ll bleach his hair plus eyebrows!

WHAT?!?!?! I never agreed to this! No guys we´re not doing that!

Come on nobody´s gonna see you

Okay 200k likes and I will bleach y/n´s hair plus eyebrows too! He smiled into the camera with the cutest expression

NO! In your dreams!

See! Nobody is getting their hair and eyebrows bleached now end the video I want to cuddle

Stop being so mean to my viewers! Okay guys thank you for tuning in and watching, we´ll clean this mess here now and then cuddle like he said then you went close to the camera and whispered 100k likes offer still stands before you turn off the camera Joshua yells NO

You end the video, laughter filling the before you finally regain your voice “I can´t wait to bleach your hair and eyebrow” he stands up from the chair brushing his hair “You got way too comfortable in the hair thing” he said while walking closer to you, wrapping his arms around your wait once again, lips brushing on your indicating a kiss that would turn into a makeout eventually if you didn´t pull your head away “Stop, you have hair all over your body go and shower!” he laughed separating himself from you “Wanna join me in the shower?” he at least tried. “No! Shower and free yourself from the hair all over your body then I´ll consider giving you cuddles!” you shove him out of your filming room towards the shower “At least give me a kiss before I shower!” he didn´t get the kiss, just a “Nope! I´ll be busy editing this video!”

thank you for reading!

[author-morgan]

let’s get some dummy hot sex with halfdan now? 🥺🥵

ask, dear nonny, and ye shall receive. behold a little smut with Halfdan where he has to make some amends ;) did i go overboard? absolutely. Halfdan x fem!Reader

IT IS NOT the first time you’ve woken to a cold and empty bed of late, and though you wish for it to be the last, you know it won’t be. You’ve known Halfdan the Black long enough to know it’s best to let him be when he’s this aloof, but the distance between you has grown too large to bear —too large to ignore.

With a heavy heart, you carry about your morning duties and chores around Tamdrup before seeking out Harald. He’s training with his vanguard, and against better judgment, you hope Halfdan will be there too, but Harald claims to have not seen his brother since the prior evening.

The trek up to the promontory overlooking Tamdrup is winding and steep at times, but you press on through the frigid wind, almost certain you’ll find Halfdan. It’s a place he and Harald know well, having used it to escape the trouble they caused as boys. You’ve scarcely made the ascent, but the few times have been on clear nights when the blue-green northern lights dance overhead, and each time has left lasting memories that make your heart flutter and stomach twist.

Cresting the promontory, you see him sitting at the edge —wrapped in his tan-grey fur-trimmed cloak. “There you are,” you call, catching your breath as your draw nearer, “I’ve been looking for you.

He shifts, looking over his shoulder as you approach. There’s a faint smile on his lips, even if it doesn’t reach his dark eyes. “You’ve found me,” Halfdan says, turning his distant gaze back to the fjord and Tamdrup below. You sit next to him, your shoulder just brushing his —he does not push you away, but he does not embrace you either.

There’s a moment of uneasy silence, both you and Halfdan staring down through the low hanging clouds and mist at the dark water and longships. Soon those same ships would be prepared to sail once again —to answer a summons from Björn Ironside, the young and ambitious son of Ragnar Lothbrok. You glimpse Halfdan from the corner of your eyes. It makes your heart hurt to see him so troubled like there’s a war raging inside him. He flinches when your fingers first brush against his cheek, as though he already forgot you were next to him.

You cup his cheek as you draw his dark and troubled gaze to you, not letting him look away. “What is bothering you, my love?” You ask —thumb stroking over the scrollwork of blue-black ink on his cheek up to his brow. “Ever since Paris, you’ve become colder.” You hadn’t gone to Francia with the brothers; instead, Harald charged you with keeping the affairs of Tamdrup and the Vestfold in line. Then they returned, with Halfdan clinging to life over a festered wound from a crossbow bolt. In the weeks after his recovery, something had shifted —between him and you and his brother. Halfdan’s eyes flit over your face, his lips parting as if to speak, but he doesn’t know what to say. “Tell me,” you breathe, a soft plead for him to be honest with you, “so I may help carry your burdens.”

He heaves a long sigh, feeling guilt take hold of his heart for having pushed you away for so long. “The more I think,” Halfdan starts, leaning into your palm, “the more I wish to explore new lands.” His lips kink upward, half-hidden by the scraggly tuft of wiry blond hair on his upper lip and chin. It’s the first he’s mentioned the desire to travel outside of summer raids. Rough fingers curl around yours, gently pulling your hand from his cheek, but he doesn’t let you go —twinning his fingers with yours. “Travel to the ends of the known world.”

Then his distance and despondency make sense, or at least you think it does. “But you do not wish Harald to think you’ve abandoned him.” Halfdan nods. Harald is his brother. They’ve fought countless battles together. Conquered lesser kingdoms and forced jarls into submission. For as long as he can remember, he’s stood by Harald’s side, hellbent on seeing his brother’s dreams of being crowned King of all Norway a reality.

It’s only recently Halfdan has begun to think about what he wants in this life. He wants you, a crew of loyal men, a sturdy longship, and kind seas to take him to lands farther south than even Paris. “His dream is not mine,” Halfdan concedes, lowering his dark eyes, “never has been, but I’ve always supported him.”

“The gods will tell you which path to take when the time comes,” you assure him, smiling. “They favor you and your brother.” Halfdan leans close, his lips just brushing against yours —a soft, quick kiss as though to say thank you. Upon parting, he drapes an arm and his cloak over your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You lean into him, feeling at peace once more in his arms.

The clouds lift moments later, the sun shining upon Tamdrup and the water. The afternoon is just beginning by your reckoning, and you still have a list of chores to complete before the evening to help prepare for the feast. “Will you walk back with me?” You ask, glancing up at Halfdan, and he nods, feeling a weight is lifted from his chest.

WINDING YOUR WAY through the guests and envoys, you find the empty spot next to Halfdan, alas. He’s already two cups of mead into the night, having watched you pace around greeting people —one of the more tedious aspects of being Harald’s closest advisor and informant is during these feasts where hospitality and decorum are expected. You smile for him, nudging his side lightly before reaching for his cup, taking a long sup of the honey-sweet mead. Across the hall, Harald lifts his cup, tilting it in your direction —when he is King of Norway, he’d have you and his brother to thank for helping lay a crown at his feet.

Halfdan’s hand finds the curve of your lower back, his thumb rubbing small arcs through your gown. A mindless and innocent enough action that still manages to send a hot flush to your cheeks and gather warmth in the pit of your stomach. “Is that a new dress?” He asks, a poor excuse for having been caught staring at your exposed shoulders and the glimpse of cleavage he can see from this angle.

Luckily for him, it is. The pale blue gown is only a few shades lighter than his own tunic. You’ve put hours into weaving the soft blend of wool and linen and what seems like even longer to adorn the neckline with leather strips and beads of stone and shell. It may have taken you weeks to make the dress, but the glint in Halfdan’s eyes tells you he could ruin it much quicker. “Do you like it?” You ask. He hums his answer, arms wrap around your middle, dragging you against his side, then finally across his lap. “Halfdan!” You exclaim, laughing as you balance yourself with the edge of the table.

The slight smile on his lips fades, and the mirth in his eyes slips away with a blink —his dark gaze holding you captive. “I fear I’ve neglected you of late,” Halfdan admits, stroking over your flushed cheeks with the back of his fingers. He brushes back your hair —half loose and half bound in braids— and leans in, so his warm breath tickles your shoulder, then your neck.

“Allow me to make amends?” He proposes, a whisper against your lips. The smile on your lips is answer enough, but then you lay your hand on his neck, thumb tracing over the raised silver scar there before dipping your head down. A small, surprised moan rings out from the back of his throat, but then he leans into you, grip tightening on your waist as he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat.

"I’d like that,” you answer, leaning your head on his shoulder, “but it’s too early for us to leave your brother alone with this lot.” He laughs, and you feel the deep rumble in his stomach against your side as he agrees. You both know Harald well enough by now to know it doesn’t take much for his diplomacy to deconvolve to violence.

Friends come and go. Even Harald joins you and his brother for a short moment to praise the work you’d done for the evening. All the while, Halfdan insists on keeping a hand on your back and one on your thigh, his lips often teasing your neck —a promise. Soon the budding heat and tension between the two of you is too much to bear any longer. Feigning lightheadedness from the warmth of the longhouse and the strong mead, you excuse yourself from the feast with Halfdan trailing behind you and Harald knowing the true reason behind both your sudden departures.

He kicks the door to his chambers shut, hands never straying from your waist and lips never parting from yours. You cling to him, pushing a hand through his hair, holding him close with a hand at the nape of his neck. Then his hands slide up your sides, around to your back, and you know what it is he’s thinking.

“No,” you chide, slapping away his hands with a stern glance. You know what he meant to do —tear the dress from your shoulders in his haste to get his hands on your bare skin. “I spent too much time on this for you to mess it up,” you tell him. Halfdan rolls his eyes but complies when you turn your back to him, working loose the line of black laces trailing up your spine —growing increasingly impatient by the second.

Calloused hands slid across the smooth expanse of your back, up to your shoulders, sliding the gown off your arms and down past your hips until it cascades to the plank floors, forming a pool of fabric around your ankles. Halfdan’s arms snake around your front, his hands sliding across your stomach and up to palm your breasts —tweaking your nipples between his thumb and forefingers. He kisses the crook of your neck, where your pulse is racing, and glances down at the blue dress. “Looks better on the ground,” he teases.

You twist in his arms, smiling up at him —and he’s never felt more a fool for making you feel like you’d grown apart. Settling your hands on his waist, you reach for the hem of his wool tunic, but Halfdan pushes your hands away and hushes your whines of protest with a kiss. “Making amends, remember?” He lays you back onto his bed, crawling over you —still clothed save for his discarded boots. The kiss he places upon your lips is over too soon, but then his mouth moves down, kissing and nipping at your neck, stopping to suckle your breasts before moving lower still, pausing to press a lingering kiss at your navel and tickle your skin with his beard.

Halfdan slides off the bed, dropping low to his knees —both his hands curling around your thighs, drawing you to the edge, spreading your legs wide for him. His kisses and discrete caresses throughout the feast have done their job —the folds of your cunt are wet and glistening by the hearth’s light.

Roast boar be damned, he thinks, this is my favorite feast. He lays a handful of tender kisses on the insides of your thighs and watches the chills disperse over your flesh at the scrape and tickle of his beard. Easing your legs over his shoulders, he breathes in the sweet scent of your cunt and lets his warm breath fan out over you. You jolt upward when he licks a slow, broad stripe over your, stopping to swirl his tongue around your clit. He repeats the action, then looks up at you with wild, dark eyes.

Writhing in his hold, your back arches from the bed, hands twisting into the patchwork of wolf and fox pelts beneath you. You sigh and whimper, almost singing his name to the gods as a sweet prayer as his head dips forward again, laving your cunt with licks, tongue flicking out against your clit. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your thighs to keep you spread open for him.

As with everything Halfdan does in life, he feasts upon you with fervent enthusiasm, taking pride in how quickly he can have you falling apart at the seams. You feel him smile against you before his tongue slips into you, and then he moans —loudly and from deep in his throat like he’s the one being pleasured, and it reverberates through your entire body.

A moment later and your hands are tangled in his stringy blond hair, the strands flopping messily over his whole head. He groans when you tug on his locks, a silent urging for him to continue, to give you more. “Halfdan,” you whine, craning your neck to look down at him —content between your thighs like a parched man finding a desert oasis. You barely notice one of his hands disappear from your thigh until his fingers are brushing through your slick folds as his tongue labors over your clit —hard-and-fast flicks against the sensitive nub, hot breath fanning against your in quick, lustful pants— determined to have you come undone by his mouth and fingers.

He crooks a finger, then adds another, searching for the spot he knows drives you into oblivion. It doesn’t take long for him to find it, and then the wave washes over you —a rogue wave in a storm— the tension built up over weeks of not having him as you should. He thrusts his fingers back into you, thrice over, coaxing you down from the high with soft kisses and nips to the inside of your thighs. Halfdan eases your legs off his shoulders then leans over you, lips finding yours.

His kiss is harsh and demanding and somehow loving at the same time. You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue —mixed with the honey mead. “Clothes off,” you rasp, breaking the kiss and cursing how desperate you sound as you tug at him, trying to bring him closer and strip him of his clothes at the same time.

Halfdan laughs as he pulls himself from your embrace, lips kinked into a smile. He pulls his blue tunic overhead and quickly unties his britches, shoving them down his legs. You have a brief moment to admire him —the planes of his chest, the lithe muscle of his arms and abdomen, even his hard cock straining proudly toward you nestled in a coarse thatch of hair the same color as that on his head.

Climbing onto the bed, he maneuvers you both to the center, gripping your ankles and playfully tugging you back to him. He hovers over you on his hands and knees; one hand splayed beside your head, the other moving to grasp your chin with two fingers —a light and gentle hold nigh unbecoming of someone with his reputation for cruelty.

Halfdan locks eyes with you, and it makes your stomach seize and flip. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been with him a hundred times over when he looks upon you as though you are Freyja incarnate, you cannot help but fall further in love. To him, you’re perfect, and you deserved to be treated as such. You lift your hand to his cheek, fingertips barely brushing over his tattoo. “Take me,” you breathe, assurance and permission.

He swoops down, sweeping you into another kiss, his thumb on your chin rubbing sweet circles, tongue parting your lips. You trail your bent legs along his sides, breaking him from a trance with your ankles locking at his lower back, pressing his hard cock into your center. Halfdan reaches between you, lazily stroking his cock before easing into you, letting you feel the slow stretch and drag as he inches his way into you. “Fuck,” he half-chokes and half-groans when your hips meet —leaning down on his elbows and trapping you in his warmth —chest pressing into yours.

You dig your nails into the muscles of his back —hearing your name on his lips like a needy prayer. At first, you rock against each other, movements restrained until he pulls back his hips and begins to move in earnest. It starts as a slow, deliberate grind but hearing your pleas for more and soft whimpers spurs him on. “So,” he pants into your neck, “good.”

Halfdan rests his forehead on your breasts, his hands creating a vise grip on your hips as he pounds into you, harder, harsher, faster. Grunts spewing from his open mouth each time his cock settles back inside you. He’s close —chasing his release— you can tell by his sloppy rhythm and staccato thrusts, but he needs you to fall with him. His lips leave short kisses on your breastbone, one of his hands moving from your hip to press on your clit, rubbing frantic circles and sending a flood of sparks through your veins.

And then, just as you feel yourself coming to the edge of the precipice, Halfdan dares to raise his head from your chest —his dark eyes burning into you, beckoning you to let go. He strikes a place deep within you, pushing you over. Your body tenses, toes curling, heels pressing hard into his back, and your walls flutter, clamping down around his cock as he presses through the tightness.

Halfdan’s hips stutter; a rough groan ripped from his throat as he presses deep inside you —cock twitching with his release. He mutters a string of curses below his breath, holding himself up on shaking arms. Then, just to see you quiver, he gives several more slow, lazy thrusts —feeling his seed slip from your cunt each time.

Breathing heavily, he settles back down, head resting on your chest, hands trailing up and down your sides as you rest one hand on his back, the other brushing through the strands of hair hanging over half his face. Halfdan pecks small, delicate kisses across your clavicle that are a paradox to how he just fucked you. It makes you smile.

His body is slick with sweat where he presses against you, his mouth going to the crook of your neck as you grip onto his shoulders, desperate to hold on to him, and this moment. “You’re too good to me,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice deep, thick with love and fading lust.

You smooth over the furrow in his brow with your fingertips —following the curves of the dark tattoo there— a smile on your lips. “Maybe,” you tease, and his warm brown eyes twinkle in the low light. “But you’re the only one for me,” you tell him, feeling his lips twitch into a smile as he turns his face back into your breast. The two of you stay like that for several long moments until he shifts, pulling his softening cock from you with a hiss echoed by your soft whines at the empty feeling left between your thighs.

He clambers off the bed, disappearing behind a reed partition for a quick second before returning with a damp rag, offering it to you to clean the mess he made of your cunt. You nod your thanks, and he moves around the room, picking up your discarded clothing and depositing it onto the trunk at the foot of the bed before rejoining you, this time beneath the wool blanket and fur quilt.

Halfdan pulls you into his side, and you lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He sighs, fingers running up and down your spine, and when he turns his head, his lips brush against your forehead. “Rest,” he breathes, “I’ll be here when you wake.” You smile, settling against him, knowing when the morning sun rises, you’ll still be safe and warm in the arms of the man you love.

[ taglist: @elizabethroestone @naaladareia @charming-merlin ] if you want to be added to my Vikings taglist, just let me know!

[yourssinfullyquiche]

Vexed

Finally finished this headcanon after a long episode of procrastination and laziness. I struggled a lot with our man Luci, he's such a complex and a mysterious character that requires profound understanding. That being said, I hope I have done all our boys justice!

This headcanon revolves around you being annoyed with our boys. However, I wanted to leave the angsty notes out of this headcanon for next time (an upcoming one perhaps, if it permits, unless my imagination spirals to other ideas).

MLQC boys x F! reader (You)

WC: 1856

Beta: Quiche; special thanks to @playheej for helping me out on Luci

Warning: Fluff, teeny-tiny suggestive for Lucien.

I hope this leaves an exciting taste to your life.

Enjoy!

-

Gavin

It was 3 in the morning and you finally finished your proposal due tomorrow. You had to stop procrastinating and missing out on sleep.

“Finallyyyyyyyyyy” you lazily drawled out.

You almost entered the REM stage when you heard light footsteps padding towards you.

Your eyes immediately shot open, narrowing to find a silhouette masked by the pitch darkness of the room — his hand outstretched towards you.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”, you shot your leg up in the hopes of hitting somewhere, anywhere but were caught swiftly by the trespasser.

Beads of sweat formed at your temple and your heart was hammering against your chest as you struggled to release your leg when you heard:

“Hmm, this defense is at least a little better from when you screamed for the police,” a light chuckle followed by muted lights began flooding your bedroom and eyesight, causing you to squint. “Although you could get caught like this. I suggest -”

“OMG! What the hell Gavin! Wh-Why did you do that and what are you even doing here? You exclaimed.

“You scared me to death!”, you clutched your chest, heart still beating from the adrenaline.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he worriedly said.

“Didn’t you think I wouldn't be scared from that?! Please, stop jumping in from the window and use the door like a human being,” you swatted his shoulder.

“Well, the door would be locked right? I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“It’s okay to give me a call, just don’t scare me like that.”

You glared at him but softened when you saw the apologetic gaze he was giving you.

He cupped your hand over your beating heart before climbing into your bed, and resting his head on your chest.

You snuggled closer to him, carding his chestnut hair as you began relaxing.

“So, what happened? It’s so late, shouldn’t you have gone to sleep? I’m sorry I kept cancelling our dates — I had work to do.”

“I missed you. I wanted to see you. Don’t worry about the dates, we can go again another time and...I’m sorry, I’ll not do that again but in times of emergency you know I would.”

“Was this an emergency?” You teased him.

He buried his face closer to you, voice muffled against your clothes. “Yes, I was looking forward to our dates, I really wanted to see you. I wanted to hold you…”

He sighed contentedly as his breaths warmed your chest. You missed him terribly too.

*A/N: Uhhh Why is it so hard to be angry with this man? He’s so honest, it makes me wanna cry. Btw, REM or rapid eye movement stage is the primary “dreaming stage” of sleep and occurs about 90 minutes after you’ve fallen asleep (Google).

Also this was actually inspired from a freaky hallucination that I experienced🙃

Victor

“Ahhh, I can’t wait for Victor to taste this”, muttering happily to yourself, you continued stirring the jus.

You had tried recreating the seared steak with fondant potatoes and red wine jus, that you had in Paris.

You knew it was fairly ambitious for you to execute it without his help but you wanted to dampen his smug attitude — not that that’s gonna change him.

Victor had just finished a meeting when he smelled burnt aroma wafting from the kitchen.

What is this dummy up to now?

“Could you not burn down my house. The minute you start cooking, everything goes up in flames”.

“Hey! I took out the potatoes in time, okay. Aaand I made dinner! Remember you took me to Les Classiques and we had that amazing dinner, I tried cooking it…

He scoffed at you. “You? Dinner? Since when did you cook something edible.”

Can’t this man keep his snooty mouth shut for once!

“Hmm, steak and...is that supposed to be fondant potatoes? Well Pudding would surely be happy for this thoughtful meal. Don’t be disheartened if he rejects your dismal food.”

Amused by your apparent annoyance, he starts slicing the steak and picking it apart; inspecting it as if he’s Gordon Ramsey.

Victor Li might be the crowning food critic in Loveland that nobody asked for.

God you feel like an idiot sandwich.

He finally eats it and just gives an unperturbed “hmm” as a response.

“Well…? Is it worthy of thy praise?” You sarcastically ask.

“It’s bearable.”

“Ughhh, why are you so mean to me? Shouldn't you be kinder to your girlfriend? Not only are you cold at work but at home too…

“You just need to put in more effort. I’ll teach you.”

You huff loudly and avoid looking at him out of sheer pettiness.

“Am I that unkind?” a soft voice rings to your ears.

“At times, you are and you say all these nasty things...”

“Dummy, I just want you to do your best because I know what you’re capable of.”

You blushed and pouted. “I know.”

Victor smiled lovingly at you before going off. “The steak is a little dry, and you know the fondant potatoes are slightly burnt and it’s bland.” He stops to give you an I expected better from you look — “And don’t get me started on the jus.”

“Here we go again.” Yep not once.

Kiro

Being a renowned idol means abstaining from certain worldly pleasures such as all those sinfully delicious food.

Despite Kiro understanding this, it’s only human nature to give in to what one likes.

Needless to say, Kiro is mischievous when hogging snacks, or sneakily eating that cheesecake he somehow managed to surreptitiously hide from Savin.

At times when you’re on set, you do partake in his devilry shenanigans because of his irresistible puppy face that you can’t say no to.

It ranges from helping him sneak in snacks, to covering his fingerprints and lying about his food intake at home.

Savin however has a keen eye on you — it’s a wonder how you keep escaping with your facade when he eyes you so narrowly almost as if his eyes would disappear.

All you can do is sheepishly smile away while secretly gesturing to Kiro to run away.

Till now, Savin has never actively scolded the both of you.

Until…

He catches Kiro stashing away packets and cans of Pringles into his wardrobe compartments.

You freeze when Savin immediately stares at you, your hands full with bags of chips.

His gaze — akin to a mother disappointed in her kids.

We got caught red-handed.

“So do you have anything to say for yourself?”, he nods disappointedly to Kiro and shifts his gaze towards YOU.

After a long lecture from Savin with him repeatedly saying that “You encourage Kiro” and him threatening Kiro of revoking your pass privileges to the sets, he finally lets the both of you go with only 10 minutes left to the shoot.

You were fuming with annoyance at Kiro

“It’s not my fault and yet I got scolded. It’s your body the chips are going into! You’re on your own from now on! (｀Д´)

“Miss Chips, please don’t be mad. I promise I won’t let Savin scold you ever again and I’ll do my best to stop myself!”

“Just don’t get angry — We’ll go to a new all-you-can-eat dessert buffet shop I found later!”

He looks at me excitedly while listing off the variety of sweets the shop has.

“Kiro, do you want Savin to get upset again? You know you have to shoot your MV tomorrow. What if you get a stomach ache? I wouldn’t want you to perform badly or worse — Savin breathing down my neck again! You rolled your eyes.

“But...Miss Chips...you know...I can’t...resist…”

“You just said you would try your best.” Wait, what was that crunching sound???

“KIROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO”

Lucien

I wonder what my little fool is up to?

“Lucien, I challenge you to a chess showdown!” a voice proudly imbued the living room.

“Oh, well I suspect that I can’t back down from this can I? Well if it’s my butterfly’s wish, then I shall fulfill it. However, I can't say I've played chess much before…” His violet eyes reflected a certain curiosity and playfulness — almost like a cat. You were caught off guard when he suddenly pulled you to sit on his lap.

“Maybe you can refresh my memory,” his silky voice reverberated in your ears, hot breaths tickling them while your exposed nape shivered as heat began rising to your already flushed cheeks.

“S-sure”, you stuttered as you looked away not wanting for him to tease you.

You hated how easily you lost your bearings around him and like a prey escaping from a cage, you escaped from his sweet embrace despite wanting to be pampered with it.

You composed yourself rather clumsily earning a gentle laugh that was uniquely his.

“I’m quite surprised to hear that you are not accustomed to this game. Well, no worries! I’ll teach you, so please focus.”

You were determined to show off your skills.

Such an entertaining butterfly; observing you was his most favourite thing and he couldn’t miss the chance after seeing your bold and serious attitude displayed.

Explaining the basics to him only took a few minutes which didn’t surprise you considering how intelligent and tactical Lucien is.

After one practice game (which you won easily — not that it counts), you boldly declared: “Since you are now refreshed, let’s start a new game. And I’m not going to go easy on you!”

“Oh, I surely wouldn’t want that. Please, do not refrain for my sake.” Another gentle smile greeted your smug demeanor.

Unfortunately, your smugness wore off after multiple consecutive losses, each loss triggering an even more annoyed look directed at Lucien.

Lucien, calm as ever; swallowed each stare like a deep ocean, silently beguiled at your attempts to defeat him.

Six games passed and finally your grumpy voice made your chagrin known. “You lied to me about your abilities right! Pretending to be bad at it when you knew how to play all along!”

He chuckled softly at your antics.

He had the AuDaCiTy to chuckle??? You pouted, your lower lip protruding clearly.

“Now where is the fun in saying I could play? You looked so serious and said it would be fun and I was having fun. Did I make you angry by having a little fun teasing you?”

You childishly stuck out your tongue at him to which Lucien laughed warmly and opened his arms prompting you to come towards him.

Your displeasing eyes vanished, succumbing like a sassy cat who still craved tender pats.

You climbed gingerly, making yourself comfortable in his arms — “I’m still angry at you.”

His distinct chuckle sounded different from this close. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lie, I just wanted to see how determined you were.”

“Hmm, can you teach me how to play like that?,” you demanded softly

“Of course.” He lightly kissed your forehead.

*A/N: Cats have been referenced a lot to describe Luci’s as well as your behaviour. It’s purely coincidental but I realised that it��s because I have been watching many cat videos recently. Ahhhh they’re so cute💖

Mildly inspired by a fanfic I read about MC teaching Gavin chess, I’m not sure who it was from but It was from ginkgomoon, thank you🥺

Delve into my world

[orbitvenus]

this post is inspired by this reblog of mine <33 check it if you want to!!

Pairing: timeskip!Tendou x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff and drabble

Warning: grammar errors, its uhhh cheesy ig, bland dialogues because I suck at them, ooc??? and maybe some swearing

I hope this won't plop😭 also someone help me how to describe other gestures besides the forehead kisses,knuckle kisses and hugs that I always include in my writings

You and Tendou have been together for a long time. When he asked you to join and live with him in Paris, you immediately said yes knowing you'll be fine with him even though you have to leave your home country behind. Moving to another country is pretty tough at first, but slowly the two of you began to adjust and create a routine.

Now, you and tendou are about to celebrate your anniversary. He asked you to dress up prettily. You asked why he just smiled and said this anniversary is much special so its important. You raised your eyebrows as if every anniversary you had with him wasn't special. To you all the anniversaries you had were always special, each one is unique filled with happy memories and for this year you still look forward to what he had prepared.

He told you he will be picking you up later while he will be doing some business. He pulled you close to him and nuzzled his head to your neck like a cat which made you chuckle.

'Keep safe okay.'

'Yes yes no worries babe.' He spoke, muffled because he's still nuzzled on your neck.

He pulled away and looked at you lovingly before leaving. You stood there dumbfounded until the door is shut. He always looks at you with adoration that you never fail to send back at him but you noticed that his behavior today is....quiet weird. You decided to shrug it off.

You took a shower and stepped out to go to your bedroom. In your bed is a box with a note that came none other than from Satori.

'wear this for me.'

-satori♡

You smiled and opened the lid of the box. You pulled out the dress and admired it. Realizing it was the dress you mentioned to him that you've been dying to get. You felt fuzzy and warm with your heart fluttering in your chest realizing he remembered it and got it for you. You made a mental note for yourself to repay him. Snapping out of your daze, you hurriedly dressed up yourself as you saw the clock nearing to the time where Satori promised you to pick you up.

You were still trying to wear your shoes when you heard knocks behind your apartment's door. After finally wearing your shoes, you turned the doorknob and met your boyfriend all dressed up as you.

'There's my baby, I knew it would look perfect on you.'

His words always make you blush even though you two are no longer teenagers.

'Thanks you too.'

You walked near him and fixed his collar, inhaling his perfume as you come closer. You rested your hands on his chest. Taking a look at his form, he looks handsome as ever.

'Babe if you kept staring at me I will definitely melt.'

He teasingly commented. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and grabbed his hand to leave even if you don't have any idea where he will take you.

'Lets go now, don't want us to be late yeah?'

You were met with the breeze coming from the sea while walking, hands in hands with Tendou. Looking around the place is quiet with only the two of you walking towards a boat. The boat is decorated with flowers and battery operated candles we don't want any incidents to happen don't we. Tendou was first to step inside the small boat and held out his hand.

'Hop in my lady~'

He said it while looking at your eyes and grinning. You took it and stepped in with him while he's keeping the boat steady.

'Careful..careful okay there'

You got in and he gestured you to sit down. You sat opposite of your boyfriend and beside you is a picnic basket with wine and two wine glasses along with some food inside. Satori pushed the boat so it will move further to the sea and began rowing. While he was rowing you took the time to admire everything including him. He's still pretty muscular even if he already quitted volleyball but he continued to maintain his physique by exercising from time to time. The sun is beginning to set, casting the skies a beautiful orange glow.

Satori stopped rowing the boat and looked at you. Seeing that awe struck expression in your face, he knew he succeeded again. You felt his eyes on you and faced your body towards him.

'So....where did you learn how to row?'

'One of the locals who rents boats taught me how, to be honest I thought it was gonna be easy but I was wrong.'

You laughed lightly and continued to chat with him. While talking you two also started to drink the wine and eat the food that was prepared on a small table he brought out.

The amount of happiness you felt at this moment will never compare when you celebrated your first anniversary together. You continued laughing with Tendou when a latern caught your attention. You stopped and observed. Satori also kept quiet to observe you to see how you will react to his surprise.

It already got dark, luckily the candles and the street lamps are kept the place illuminated. That later changed when the laterns began to come out and light up the sky. Your eyes followed the laterns. At that moment it was so beautiful, you don't know if its a coincidence or part of your boyfriends plan.

You felt as if you were in the scene from Tangled. You were far too amazed to even notice your boyfriend. While you were excitedly admiring what he prepared, he took his time to prepare himself on the question he's been dying to tell you.

He knew it's about time for you to know when he was sleeping beside you one night.

He was just staring at the ceiling and he can't sleep while you were peacefully sleeping on top of him. He looked at you and realized after all you two have been through you still stuck with him. He remembered how you listened and comforted him from his insecurities. How you greeted him with a hug everytime he returns home from work. He even remembered how you kept practicing to cook for him. He remembered how he met you and how you got together with him. Everything, you're always there with him. He doesn't want to let you go and felt that he needs to confirm that you and him will be with each other forever.

He looked at the calendar besides him and saw your anniversary date. He thought about it and realized he had enough money to buy you the ring you wanted. Funny how it seems the universe is inclined with his intentions. He will have to start planning to propose to you but first he needs his sleep while keeping his arms around you.

'Y/n...'

'Hmmm?'

You responded but still enraptured by floating lanterns. He coughed and caught your attention.

'I know it was a big decision when I asked you back then to come with me here in Paris. I was prepared to hear your rejection back then but your excited yes shocked me a little.......'

He continued to say what he had always wanted to say to you. You started to tear up feeling overwhelmed by his confession. Somehow this scenario feels oddly similar to his first confession to you and hit you with nostalgia.

'Now I wanted to ask you to um...'

He felt flustered and his heart beating. He sighed before continuing and brought out a small box out of his pocket. He placed it on his palm and slowly opened it. Now is the time to ask the big question.

'Y/n L/n will you marry-'

'Yes!'

You happily interrupted him and threw your arms around him, burying your face to his neck to avoid seeing you in tears. Tendou is shocked and happy at the same time now that you said yes, you still have to wear the ring which you haven't done yet. He was about to take your hands and slid it on your finger when you hugged him.

He patted your back and smiled also starting to feel his tears build up when he realized you were crying.

'Hey- come on now I don't want to see you crying.'

He shushed you softly. You calmed down and backed off. You were still wiping your tears off you cheeks with your other hand when he slid the ring on your finger. You kept rubbing until you peeked your eyes open and saw the ring.

The tears began to build up again and you cried. Thinking what you did to deserve such man like him, he surprised you too much today you can't help but feel overflowing joy and love. You try to form words but the hiccups are preventing you and trying your best to wipe off the endless tears from your eyes.

Your attempt to dry them off fail until you felt Satori your now fiancé, use his handkerchief to help you. You finally looked at him through blurry eyes and saw how he was also crying while looking at you. Your hand reached out to his face to dry his tears.

He held your hand on his face and brought it near his lips to kiss your ring. His gesture made you cry harder.

'Damn it Satori! Stop making me cry you dummy.'

You finally spoke again. You made him laugh and stop his tears. Tendou tried to help you clear the tears from your cheeks again until its gone.

When you two both calmed down, he pressed his forehead against yours and connected his lips to yours while both of his hands are cupping each sides of your face. The kiss made you feel like fireworks soaring in the sky. He stopped and murmured against your lips.

'I love you so so much, thank you for being with me and loving me I promise to cherish you for eternity my paradise.'

'I love you so much too Satori...more than you would ever know.'

He let out laugh from your words. His laugh made you feel giddy. His yours and you are his officially.

'You know babe our setting really reminds me of that scene from Tangled.'

'Well...where did you think I got the inspiration from?'

Notes:duck im tired im also on low battery bye now- I have to rush the ending because I was at like....5% 😭😭😭 anyway thank you for reading!! Feel free to like and reblog if you like it <33

content by @dreamingkita pls do not repost or plagiarize or else I will hunt you❗

[frostedfaves]

Jealous

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: “I told you before, jealousy is an ugly emotion I don’t feel.” -Jake Peralta

Word Count: 800+

Warnings: poor Jake making a mess of things, slight mention of nsfw activity

A/N: another repost intended to be added to my queue list that I decided to post immediately. Hope you love it as much as I do

-

"Can I buy a pretty lady a drink?"

Jake lifted his head immediately at the question he now realized was aimed at his girlfriend. Before he could shoo him away, Y/N faced the guy, her frown quickly shifting to a grin.

"Oh my God, Mark! Dude, it's been four years! How are you?" she asks, her voice slightly muffled by the hug they now shared.

Jake tried not to let his thoughts wander too far as he watched the pair interact, hellbent on keeping an indifferent smile on his face.

"Someone's jealous," Charles comments from behind him, and Jake scoffs.

"Well that someone isn't around here, so..."

"Jake!"

His eyes came back to Y/N, smile faltering slightly when he saw her hand wrapped around Mark's bicep.

"Jake, this is Mark, my childhood best friend. Mark, this is Jake, my adulthood boyfriend," she introduced them with a giggle.

"Nice to meet ya, Jake! Y/N didn't tell me she was out of the dating market," Mark joked as he released Jake's hand.

"Really?" Jake turned a questioning eye to Y/N, who squirmed a bit under his gaze.

"To be fair, I met him after you left for Paris. I tried to call you but your number was disconnected!"

"Yeah, that's my fault. I had to relocate to Toulouse and change my number because of a stalker."

She gasped loudly, grabbing his arm again. "Please tell me all about it...right after you get me that drink you offered." She laughs as she leads him over to the bartender.

-

"Dude." Jake jumps as Rosa suddenly appears next to him, nearly dropping his beer. 

"Jesus, Rosa, warn me next time!"

"No." She sits across from him in the booth and follows his line of sight to Y/N and Mark talking across the bar. "So are you gonna sit here all jealous the whole night or are you gonna go bone her in front of everyone?"

"What?" Jake turns to meet Rosa's steely expression. "First of all, I'm not jealous. That is an ugly emotion, which I definitely do not feel. Second, I'm not gonna bone—"

"Mark's proposing."

"What?!"

He looks over to see Mark on one knee, looking up at Y/N, who has her hands covering her mouth in shock. His body moves faster than his brain can process, and he's suddenly standing next to them with his own hand curled around Mark's bicep pulling him to his feet.

"You need to leave," he directed at Mark, almost surprising himself with the calm ferocity that fills his tone.

"Excuse me?"

"Jake—"

"No, what kind of disrespectful person proposes to a woman in a committed relationship?!"

"Jake!"

"If I had cuffs on me, I'd arrest you right n—"

Jake cut himself off, being suddenly yanked away by Y/N, trying to keep the rage boiling within him safely underneath the surface.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Y/N asked the moment the door closed behind them outside.

"Me?! Mark is the problem! He was proposing to you!"

"He was not proposing to me!"

"Oh, so he was just on one knee in the middle of a bar for fun?! You were even all shocked about it!"

"He was telling me how his stalker proposed word for word, and I was reacting to the wild speech he gave!"

"Wait, he?"

"Yes, Mark is gay. He dated his stalker until he realized how crazy he was."

"Oh." Jake dropped his gaze to the sidewalk, face flushing in embarrassment.

"I know how it must have looked but God, Jake. Do you really think of me as a woman who would marry someone I haven't spoken to in years, especially when the man I love is feet away?"

Jake meets her eyes again, his own watering slightly at her confession. "You love me?"

"Of course, ya dummy." Her expression softens as she reaches out to grab one of his hands in both of hers.

"I love you too. And I'm sorry, I was just feeling ugly."

"You were what?" She laughs a bit, tilting her head in confusion.

"I was feeling the ugly emotion of jealousy, which clouded all my rational thoughts. I'm sorry for making such a big scene, I'll go apologize to him."

"Wait, in a minute." She pulls him closer to her with a wide smile, squishing his cheeks in her hands with a giggle before pulling him into a gentle kiss. It quickly turned into more, his hands pushing her hips until her back rested against the wall of the building, then shifted under her shirt.

"I knew you were gonna bone in public."

They pulled away quickly to meet eyes with Rosa, who stood by the door smirking at them with a giddy Charles behind her singing the word "jealous" in a high pitched tone.

[liebegott]

Snowfall. | Eugene Roe

as requested by @jussipogideonlaufeyson​

(click here to read on wattpad)

feel free to send me a request!

pairing: roe x male reader

wc: 1.5k

synopsis: you’re in bastogne and worried about the easy’s medic

a/n: ahh this one i roughly based around episode 6, but instead of babe, it’s y/n. i hope you enjoy reading it!

i mean no disrespect to the real eugene roe. this is all purely based on shane taylor’s portrayal of him in band of brothers.

tagging: @floydtab​ @alienoresimagines​ @order-of-river-phoenix​ @julianneday1701​ @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​ @wexhappyxfew​ @rarmiitage​ @mavysnavy​

***

The fog was thick, blocking everyone’s field of vision. The men murmured to themselves, trying to predict what the Germans across the field would do. As if on cue, a deep rumble echoed through the forest of Bastogne, and 1st Sergeant Lipton’s eyes widened.

“Get in your foxholes,” he yelled over the noise, and all the men began to run, jumping into the holes they had dug up days, or weeks prior. You weren’t so sure how long it had been since you had all entered the forest.

Jumping into the nearest foxhole, you gripped your helmet, shutting your eyes so hard you could feel your brain rattling inside your skull. You imagined fireworks going off on the 4th of July, or the deep rumble of the cars passing main street. Hearing men crying for a medic, you forced yourself to think of why you were here in the first place.

You enlisted in 1942, much to the dismay of your mother. She was worried about you, being the youngest in the family, but the extra $50 was enticing, and your family could use the extra money. Stepping into Camp Toccoa, you didn’t expect to be where you were today. The men realized you were different the first few days into training, but they never treated you like an outsider. Soon, you had grown to love each and every one of them, some a little more so.

Some being Eugene Roe.

You didn’t believe in love at first sight, never have. But seeing him for the first time, leaning over a dummy to learn about the human body almost made you reject everything you thought you knew. But you didn’t. Getting to know him, however, did.

Eugene was a quiet man, and almost always kept to himself. But in combat, you had never seen a braver man. Before the words ‘medic’ could leave anybody’s lips, he was there, his hands bloodied, sweat dripping down his forehead. Outside of combat, he moved around the ranks, making sure each man was okay and taking care of himself. You liked to think he checked on you a little more.

You sat there in that foxhole, not realizing how much time had elapsed until Skip Muck jumped into the foxhole, startling you. “Y/N,” he breathed, grabbing your head and hugging it tightly, “Goddamn, we’ve been looking for you everywhere. The Kraut bastards stopped ages ago.”

You stared at him, dazed, registering his words. Pushing him off you gently, you took off your helmet and ran a hand through your short hair, the ends sticking up. You exhaled a sigh of relief as Skip helped you up and out of the foxhole, dusting you off but managing to cover you with more snow.

“You okay, buddy?” he asked, concern written on his face, “Let’s get you some food.” He didn’t say anything then, but you knew he saw you trembling.

***

“Anybody seen Lieutenant Dike?” Lt. Peacock asked, bending over to speak to all the men.

“Try battalion CP, sir,” Don replied with a sarcastic grin. With that, Lt. Peacock trudged away, and everyone burst into a fit of laughter.

“Try Paris.”

“Try Hinkel.”

And with that, you laughed more, your stomach nearly hurting. Babe and Spina had accidentally walked into enemy lines while they went off to look for medical supplies. Babe had fallen into a snow-covered foxhole, startling a German soldier who thought he was his comrade, Hinkel.

Through your peripherals, you saw Eugene seated under a tree, lost in thought as he almost always was lately. You walked up to him, taking your uneaten pancake and handing it to him. “Have you eaten anything?” you said, and Eugene looked up at you from where he was sitting, his dark eyes round.

He shook his head, pushing it towards you, “You need it more, Y/L/N.” You scrunched your nose at your last name, shaking your head.

“It’s been years, Eugene. When will you ever call me Y/N?”

He shrugged, standing abruptly. “Finish your food alright? Get lots of water and try your best to stay warm,” he reminded you, holding on to your shoulder, “I’ll check on you again later.”

Eugene was worried again, as he always was.

***

That night, you were seated in your foxhole, your knees pressed against your chest. You cursed at how cold it was at night, and promised yourself the next time you ever decide to step into Belgium, it would be with a fur coat.

Hearing footsteps above you, you flinched, gripping the rifle beside you. Eugene peeked in from above, seeing your terrified eyes, and gently shook his head, “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Eugene.”

You calmed down, your eyes still wide. Facing back down towards the other side of your hole, you promised yourself again that the next time you’d be underground would be when that fateful day came. Shaking your head quickly, you removed all thoughts of death from your mind.

“You okay, Y/L/N?” Eugene asked, concerned. He gently put an arm around you and held on, trying to stop your shivering. “We need to get you another coat,” he mumbled, rubbing your arm gently. You turned to look at him, your bottom lip quivering.

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, moving away from him slightly. He didn’t understand what you were asking right away, and turned to face you with his head tilted. “Sometimes I think I know what you’re thinking about, but then other times I don’t. You refuse to let me in.”

Eugene sighed, pulling back his arm and leaning back down. He stared down at his hands, blood crusting under his fingernails. He was closing in front of you again, and you fought every part of yourself that wanted to beg him to say something.

You shook your head, turned, and tried to sleep it away. Eugene took off his coat and put it over you.

***

It was colder today, the bloody snow turning white. You shivered, gripping your rifle tighter. Your streps leaving foot prints in the sand, you crouched, bringing a finger to your lips. You heard a twig snap. The patrol behind you bent over as well, crouching towards you.

One, two, three. Nothing. You spotted a fox dashing across the snow. Exhaling sharply, you stood once more to guide the men when shots rang out. A shower of bullets fell upon you and your men, and everyone went down, gripping their helmets and moving away from the line of fire.

"We gotta pull back,” you yelled from over the shots, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”

The men scrambled to pick up their guns and ran, you shouting at them to hurry.

***

Concealed by a fallen tree, you stared off at the line, your eyes focusing and unfocusing. The attack earlier terrified you more than it should’ve, as you’ve gone through a lot worse. But now you were left shaken and aloof.

The men were all fine, you could hear Don and Babe bantering about something behind you. Some of them were even singing Christmas hymns. You realized it was almost Christmas, your jaw tightening.

“Y/L/N?” you heard someone call for you, and you looked up to see Eugene, crouched by the tree. “You okay, Y/N?”

You grunted in response— You had ignored him since the night you asked him to let you in, but he still always came back to check if you were okay. You scowled at him, but made space for him beside you anyway. “So I really had to ignore you for days just to get you to call me by my first name,” you said sarcastically, nudging him with the butt of your rifle, “What do you want?”

“I just wanted to check if you were okay,” he mumbled, rubbing his arm where you nudged him, “And I wanted to explain myself.”

“Okay then,” you said, turning to face him, “Explain.”

“I think I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your cheeks turned red, and Eugene being himself, so predictable, he took off his coat like he did so often, and wrapped it around you. “I worry about you a lot,” he continued, rubbing his arms to keep warm, “And whenever I’m around you, I have a hard time focusing. And I worry someone might need me, and I’ll be too entranced by you that I don’t hear them.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and put your arms around him, trying to keep him warm, but also trying to hold him close to you. “We’re getting out of here,” you whispered against his cheek, tightening your arms, and Eugene stiffened under your touch before resting on you.

Eugene fell asleep on your shoulder, the first time he slept in probably ages.

“I think I’m in love with you too,” you said to no one in particular. You liked to believe he heard it, “And I’m going to make sure we get out of here.”

The snow started falling.

[harrysbbby]

European Adventure Part 2 - Peter Parker x Reader

Read part 1 here

A/N: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone for the support on this, i did not expect it to have so many likes and comments so quckily. I haven’t had a chance to respond to everyone, so thank you!

warning: ffh spoilers

“Good news, we’re going to Prague!” Mr Harrington announced. Everyone was very confused- what about Paris? “Tour company upgraded us” he clarified seeing the perplexed expressions of his students.

The class made their way towards the bus. You were walking with your roomie for the trip, Michelle aka MJ. You were helping each other with your bags as you clumsily made your way towards your not-very-bus-driver-looking bus driver, who you discovered name was Dimitri.

Peter and Ned were trailing behind the two of you, talking in hushed whispers, you could only catch the words “fury” and “hijacked”. What the hell were they talking about? You shrugged it off that it was probably one of their video games or something. But the thought continued to nag in the back of your head as you took a seat towards the back of the bus. This newly found suspicion of Peter came mainly from the previous day’s events.

What was that stuff coming out of him? Was it coming out of him- no of course it couldn’t, that’d be so weird… maybe it was just water? That would make sense.

Questions flew around your head- you hadn’t had much time to think about all the confusing things you had seen. But something didn’t sit right with you. But that was all you could go off, you didn’t see Peter again that day until you had all returned to the hotel, watching what had unfolded on the news.

He seemed fine- he had called his Aunt almost instantly but that wasn’t suspicious, we had all nearly died, talking to family was regular after a near-death experience- but you had heard him whisper down the line to her about this “plan” and how he had begun to rethink it. You assumed it was the one with MJ he talked so fondly about. But by the way he spoke you thought there might have been more to it.

Your phone dinged. As you looked at the screen you realised that you had been lost in your thoughts for over 2 hours now. Your eyes skimmed the notification on your screen.

Gwen: yo lover girl, where’s my denim jacket? It’s an EMERGENCY

You rolled your eyes. Your sister always had a knack for being ridiculously melodramatic. She was your best friend- when your parents disappeared she was there for you, being three years older than you she became your default parent, despite being only 14 at the time, as you were shifted between foster carers. She was what got you through it all.

Y/N: it’s in my suitcase dummy. You said I could take it with me, remember? Also, don’t call me lover girl

Gwen: damn I did too. What am I supposed to wear with my orange dress now??!! And because you’re in lurrrrvvvveee with that geeky boy

Y/N: wear the black one. It’s in my cupboard, next to my red coat. And I’m not in love with him! I’ve spent two days with him! All I said was he was cute and nice

Gwen: ooh yes this jacket is cute thx sis xx And I can hear wedding bells already <3

You puffed out a laugh as you lent back in your chair. Pfft, you weren’t in love with him. Sure, you liked Peter, he was funny and smart and far more mature then most guys going into senior year. But he liked MJ, and you weren’t going to put yourself through the pain of losing someone again.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t hang out with him.

You stood up from your seat and made your way to the back seat of the bus where you knew he was sitting. As you reached where he was you peered over the chair in front of him and let out a giggle. He looked up and as soon as he saw you his cheeks became a dark shade of crimson.

“Sick glasses Parker.” You laughed as you took the seat two across from him since his bag was taking up the seat next to him.

He chuckled a little, before fumbling to put the glasses back into their case.

“T-thanks. Um, they were a gift from a... friend.” He swallowed as he finished his sentence. You nodded as you smiled at him

“Well your friend has a pretty suave sense of fashion. But, uh, I don’t know how well they suit you?” you fake grimaced as you squinted your eyes at you. He reached across the empty seat to lightly punch you in the arm.

“Hey! Shut up! They’re a fashion statement” he laughed

“Oh yeah Peter, because you’re just the pinnacle of stylish,” you smirked at him.

 ***

The bus came to halt just inside a small town as Mr Harrington’s voice rang out across the bus announcing a ten-minute pit stop. You stood up quickly. Peter laughed at your eagerness.

“You won’t be laughing when I pee on you Peter!” you shouted as you ran down the aisle of the bus before any of your classmates could leave their seats. A chorus of giggles followed you as you left the bus, quickly making your way towards the bathroom. You took your time in the bathroom, having a quick conversation with Betty and MJ. Betty was chattering about her and Ned’s relationship. You and MJ shared a look as she spoke about how amazing love at first sight was.

“Betty,” you said, “you’ve known Ned for years. This is like love at fifth million sight” you laugh and even MJ snorted out a laugh.

“Yeah, but this is like the first time I’ve seen him, you know?” Betty exaggerated.

“No” you stated as MJ dryly stated “Not at all”

“Whatever,” Betty huffed as she crossed her arms. You could hear Mr Dell’s voice urging you all to get back on the bus.

“I don’t believe in love” MJ stated. You laughed at her,

“Yeah sure, Miss ‘Obsessed-over-Mr-Darcy-for-4-months-straight.’”

“Hey! That was an unrealistic standard. He’s much better than anyone I could actually fall in love with” She countered

“He literally was a dick to her- that’s a ridiculously accurate portrayal of a relationship.” You countered back. She rolled her eyes,

“Only good thing about that book was its ability to pave way for the feminist movement,” Betty said, laughing at the banter between the two of you. “Besides,” she sighed dreamily, “Ned’s not a dick to me, does that mean we’re unrealistic.” You and MJ rolled your eyes at the lovestruck blonde as the three of you made your way onto the bus. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but for some reason, MJ’s statement clung to the front of you brain.

“I don’t believe in love”- maybe this means she doesn’t like Peter. This would make things much easier. Wait! Much easier for what?

But that was exactly the thing- it would make thing harder. This was exactly why Peter liked her- she was unconventional. She didn’t fall into the hopeless romantic category and that made her appealing. Unlike you. Whilst not a soppy, love-obsessed teenager, you did appreciate the occasional cutesy moment or proof of true love. It gave you hope that one day you would find someone that made you happy. Maybe that someone was Peter…

Just as the thought entered your head you made it disappear. That was weird. Sure, you’d known him for a little over a year, but you’d only gotten to know him really, really well in the past 3 days. God, you were turning into Betty.

But as you thought about him, you realised he hadn’t returned to his original seat at the back of the bus. You looked around for where he was when you saw him sitting in the very front seat. He was peaking around the seat, looking at Brad. Brad was looking down at his phone and he was looking at a photo.

You saw that it was Peter… with his pants down, with some random lady? You looked at Brad, back to where Peter was now standing.

You were walking towards him, to tell him what you saw on Brad’s phone, when you saw his hand fly across Flash’s face.

“Peter,” you said continuing down the aisle of seats towards him, “did you just punch Flash?”

He looked up at you with the glasses he had before now covering his face. He looked up astonished.

“No!” he exclaimed but looked like he immediately regretted it. He looked in terror behind you. You turned around to follow his gaze, but as you did, the bus lurched violently from side to side. Screams left the students mouths as the bus swerved.

“This is not the Autobahn!” you heard Mr Dell’s voice shriek.

You lost your footing as you fell forward. Peter was quick to reach his arms out in front of him and grab your shoulders just as your face was inches from the carpet of the bus. He stood you upright, and as you went to thank him, he turned around manically.

“Edith!” he said. What? Who the hell was Edith?

Once he found what he was looking for he crouched down and picked up his glasses, the ones you had seen earlier that day, and placed them on his nose. He looked passed you in terror once again. His mouth was opening and closing in panic, almost as if he was trying to find the right words to say to combat the situation he was in.

You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong, when Mr Harrington’s voice came from behind you. You spun around, your back now facing Peter.

“Peter, Y/N, find your fannies in a seat and buckle up, right now!” he said. Peter grunted. He grabbed your shoulders and whispered through gritted teeth in your ear from behind you.

“Create a distraction.” A distraction? For what? You wanted to ask him, but you could tell by the tone of his voice this was urgent and needed to be acted upon immediately. You hesitated for a moment, before pointing out the window behind Mr Harrington’s head.

“Oh! Look at the baby mountain goats!” you yelled.

“Baby mountain goats?” Mr Harrington exclaimed. This caught the attention of your classmates as they all clamored to that side of the bus in order to catch a glimpse of the non-existent animal. As their attention was diverted you spun around to ask Peter what the actual hell was going on. But all you were met was his feet. As you looked up you saw him in the air, as if he had jumped through the escape hatch, his arm stretched out in front of him. He landed almost silently in front of you, his hair stuck up randomly from the force of the wind. You looked at him incredulously as he puffed.

“I don’t see any mountain goats.” Mr Harrington stated. You stared at Peter with confusion for one more second before turning around to you teacher.

“Oh, um, you must have, uh… you must’ve missed them, yeah…” you uttered slowly, as you turned back to Peter, with your brow still furrowed. His chest was still rising and falling hard, as he fixed the glasses on his nose since they had gone slightly askew when he had jumped.

You were shocked. How was that even humanly possible? And what was he doing? You opened and closed your mouth multiple times in an attempt to find the right words, but they escaped you. You had so many questions, but not the first clue on what to ask.

“I know you think none of us have noticed Peter,” Betty spoke up. You both whipped to face her direction as she continued, “but your new look? I love it”

“Oh, thanks” he breathed out. He nodded a few times before slumping into his seat.

“Right babe?” Betty stated to Ned.

You hesitated for a moment but decided to sit next to him. You heard Ned’s voice agreeing from the seats behind you as you looked over at the boy on your right.

“Yeah babe! Sophisticated, classy… very European.”

Peter opened his eyes after a few seconds, hand over his racing heart.

“Thanks for covering me” he said, a slight smile on his face, his nose scrunched as he looked at you hesitantly. He had no idea how you were going to react.

You looked at him stunned. You breathed harshly out your nose as you puffed out a laugh.

“You’re welcome I guess? But I mean, what was that..?” you trailed off as you dropped your voice and lent in closer to him, your thumb motioned over your shoulder to where you and him had stood during all the commotion.

“What was what?” he squeaked, “that was totally normal” he laughed awkwardly.

“Sure, Peter,” you rolled your eyes. “Um, anyway,” you shook your head to focus one what you were doing originally, “I came down here to tell you I saw a photo of you…on Brad’s phone.” You cringed as you recounted the image in your head.

Peter’s eyes widen, “that’s not what it looks like, at all!” he speaks quickly, sitting straight up in his seat, shaking his head furiously.

“It’s okay Peter,” you smiled, “you don’t have to explain.” His shoulders visibly relaxed at your words as he slouched back into his seat again. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I can help. I do’t know, maybe I can try and get him to delete it?” you asked, shrugging.

“You would do that?” he asked. He peered at you over his glasses with a look of anticipation on his face, as if you were about laugh at him or make fun of him because of what the picture entailed.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “I mean you clearly don’t want him to have it and I doubt it speaks much truth. You’re, um,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “you’re not like that.”

He genuinely smiled at you. He stared at you for a moment with a look of admiration and, almost, realisation. Without thinking much he brought a finger up to push his glasses up his nose, but retracted his hand, almost as if he had forgotten they were there.

“Oh!” he spoke louder this time, making you jump slightly. “No! I mean, it’s okay. I can handle it.” He said firmly, nodding his head.

“Oh okay.” You said mildly deflated. You really did want to help Peter. “Okay, um, well I’ll just head back to my seat.” You sentence got quieter as you spoke, standing up to retreat to your seat. As you left you heard Peter’s quiet whisper ‘okay let’s try that again’.

Try what again?

You brushed the thought off- he was very confident when he said he had it handled, so you had every reason to believe him. As you continued up the aisle you saw Brad take a seat next to MJ. You didn’t think much of it as you sat back down with your things. As your eyes traveled over to Brad again, you saw him reach for his phone in his back pocket. Realisation dawned on you; he was going to show the photo to MJ!

Just as you went to snatch the phone out of his hand you heard his confused voice.

“I swear it was here!” he said as he flicked through the photos in his camera roll. “That’s so weird.”

“Yeah, weird.” MJ trailed off as her eyes shifted. You followed her gaze to see Peter with his stuck around his chair, glasses still perched on his face. As soon as he saw her looking he swung back into his seat.

She turned back to Brad as he continued to convince her of the photo he had taken. You rested back into your chair, relieved that Brad had no proof to embarrass Peter. But how did he delete the photo?

As the query hung in your head you felt like you were being watched. You lifted your head to look directly down the aisle of the bus. And at the end you saw brown eyes clad in blue glasses staring back at you.

A/N: i hope you all enjoyed :) not too sure where i was going with this lol, but hopefully it gives you a little bit more insight into the character and her relationships, especially with Peter. next part will be up soon!

Tags:

@mrsnegan25 @accidentally-in-hell @miss-37mm @i-am-mina @supermegafoxyawesomehot @loveyourselfcreateyourself @sarcasticfangirlxx @huggablex @thiscuriouslymiss @littlxshitv @vanillanestor @wonders-of-the-multiverse @sweetdarlingholland @basically-thanks @deku-nyan @awesomefandomsunited @thegirlwiththeimpala @inkphilosopher @hardyxlove @mxxkscreate-write @eridanuswave @aiianovna @i-rather-not-say @irxnspxder @emilymarie0422 @exquisitebts @silhouettecrow @softrdj @dasydni @spnsquirrel @foxylupines @thomasstanleyholland2013 @thatpersonwithissues @galaxyrose10 @philophxbicrxmantic @belles-garden @morgannope @ibookishqueen

[cbseung]

cobblestones : modern prince! hyunjin - [part 4]

[masterlist]

[pt 1] [pt 2] [pt 3] [pt 4] [pt 5] [pt 6] [pt 7] [pt 8] [pt 9] [pt 10] [final]

hi pals i’m so sorry this is super duper so late! i hope the amount of you x hyunjin having a date hangout in paris makes up for it 

a/n: we mention got7 (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* (also my fave is jinyoung let’s discuss) 

w/c: ~1500

pairings: hwang hyunjin x reader

description: spend your day inside the palace or go on a day trip to paris? if only it wasn’t for your super rude but sometimes nice handsome enemy ,,

alright fam

first order of business

you’ve had a night to mull over your conversation with yeji

so what’s up with these feelings for felix????

haha FEEEELix

like sure felix is a cool dude and all

but logically,,,

your stay in london is only for so long

and then it’s back to reality

so can you really afford these feelings right now?

logically, no

but honestly

can you really help it?

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆

“morning y/n! you’re up early today”

“morning felix! what’s your plans for the day?

“ah i have some things i have to finish up with my mother and yeji so unfortunately i won’t be able to go outside for long,, what about you?”

“ah you and yeji? then i’m not sure,,, any suggestions?

“how about a day trip to paris?”

“you’re kidding right. with what money? and with wHO?

“felix! y/n! how are you this lovely morning??” hyunjin says sweetly

“...you’ll go with hyunjin!”

“WHAT” you say while hyunjin simultaneously asks “oooh go where?”

“no way!!! this is supposed to be a relaxing trip!! i CAN’T go with hyunjin”

“ouch! my feelings!”

“come on y/n! you can spend time with hyunjin and realize that he’s not that awful!

“what do you mean i’m not that awful i’m not awful AT ALL” hyunjin says, hand over heart, like he was very very hurt by your words

“i can barely spend five minutes with him, let alone the WHOLE DAY” you exasperate 

“come on y/n, just spend the day with him,, please? for me?” felix says

“ugh fine,,, don’t make me regret this” you sigh, pointing at hyunjin

gasp “i would never!”

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆

you guys board the train from london to paris

so here’s what you were expecting

more like hoping

hyunjin shuts up and you put your earphones on and crank the volume up while you emotionally prepare for the day

you unconciously start humming and next thing you know..

“got7?”

........ that’s something you weren’t expecting

“...yes..”

“I LOVE GOT7!”

that’s

uh

“no way.. me too..”

“my favorite is jinyoung!” he excitedly shouts

alert alert alert

this hyunjin is scary

scary because he’s actually likeable

“my favorite is jinyoung!!”

“i met him one time, pretty cool dude”

“of course you did ,,”

“what can i say?? being the prince has it’s perks!”

you roll your eyes as you say “of course it does”

that ends your conversation, and surprisingly! it ends in a comfortable silence

wait omg

is this??

your first civil conversation with hyunjin?

and it was actually nice?

huh

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆

the 2 hr trip from london to paris wasn’t THAT horrible

you and hyunjin shared the snacks that you guys brought on the train

“oh my ,, snacks? you can’t last two hours without eating something?’

“HEY don’t make fun of me and my snacks”

and like there was SNACKS you weren’t about to NOT eat them

“hey you got a little dirt on your face” hyunjin says

“wHERE”

“right ..... there” he says as he points to your whole face

(╬ﾟ◥益◤ﾟ)

but you also learned more about him

“let’s play 20 questions!” you ask

“..... .. .... ookay”

“no seriously! it’ll be fun!”

whatever you say princess”

“... cats or dogs”

“dogs!”

“okay your turn to ask me a question”

“what? no i don’t care enough”

“WOW OUCH and of course you do i’m some pretty foreigner if i remember you saying that to felix the first time we formally met”

“pretty? more like petty” you hear him mutter

“HEY”

soon enough, you guys arrive in paris

and you’re basically jumping in your seat 

“woah dude calm down”

“don’t dude me i’m EXCITED”

“ook well ms. excited what do you want to do first”

“wow! hyunjin being considerate and asking what I wanna do FIRST?”

“oh shush i was nice during that train ride”

“well you were nicer than normal but anyways i wanna go to the louvre!”

“woah seriously? taste”

and with that said, you and hyunjin make you way toward the louvre

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆

“WOAH THIS IS MASSIVE”

“duh haven’t you seen pictures of the louvre”

“well yeah but i always thought it was just the glass triangle in the front”

“... you dummy”

you and hyunjin spend about two hours at the louvre,, but that still wasn’t enough

“but hyunjin!!! there’s still so much to see!”

“you do know it’s literally IMPOSSIBLE to see the all the louvre in one day”

“but i wanna see that psyche sculpture!”

“alright you greek mythology nerd let’s go see it and we have places to go and people to meet!”

next, you guys stop for coffee and lunch because ya’ll needed to recharge for the day ahead of you

“wow coffee on cobblestone streets! believe it or not a lifelong dream of mine” you say

“.. that’s a fairly easy dream to achieve”

“no! it’s not! （╬ಠ益ಠ)”

the day is... weirdly going by super fast?

but you’re having fun? 

what is this sorcery

there has to be something in the paris air

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆

also..

what’s a staple in france?

that’s right

berets and baguettes

and you, being a typical tourist

drag hyunjin from store to store demanding that you guys buy berets

yknow, to commemorate the day!

you guys try to find the funniest berets you can find

and let me tell you

they make some funny ones in paris

so the afternoon was filled with silly pictures and laughs that you shared with 

none other than

the “devil” himself

hwang hyunjin

sadly (???? were you actually enjoying your day?) , your day has come to an end 

you and hyunjin decide to end your day by strolling through the jardin des tuileries

“... so you like felix huh..”

..... oh

yeah 

right 

you forgot your feelings (you’re confused huh) for felix was a thing

“i .. don’t know.. to be honest no one was really interested in me back home so i’m not sure how ““““feelings”“““ are supposed to work”

“hmmm interesting,, well they missed out on getting to know you for what my opinions worth”

“wow that’s the first nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!”

“yeah yeah whatever”

it was actually really nice having hyunjin as company

“come on,” he states, “we have one more stop”

“what??? but i’m TIRED”

“it’ll be worth it!!”

so hyunjin drags you to the eiffel tower

and you guys walk to the top

and it’s night

and so pretty

almost as pretty as him

“i thought the eiffel tower closed already?”

“being a prince has it’s perks”

“you got me there”

as you look out on the streets of paris

you can’t help but ask

“so... i shared my hopes and dreams... what’s yours?”

“..... to be normal”

“wow the prince wants to be normal? what a cliche! didn’t you just say being a prince has it’s perks?”

“it’s true! the cons DEFINITELY outweigh the perks! all the responsibility that they put on me?? crazy stuff”

“okay mister i hate responsibility what would you want to instead?”

 you’ve never seen hyunjin more in thought that he looked right now

“to be honest? a dancer”

“really now?”

“i guess”

“would have never taken you as a dancer”

“i guess i’ll just have to show you sometime”

you’re both tired

visibly

you can see it on each other’s faces

so you make your way back to the train station

in a nice, calming silence

☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆o

“oh my gosh they’re so cute”

you hear squealing from the seat behind you

why tf are they so loud

as you slowly open your eyes

you realize you’re on a shoulder?

BUT WHO’S SHOULDER

but then you realize

you literally only came here with one person

prince hwang hyunjin

you’re PRETTY sure he’s sleeping so 

being the considerate human you are

you don’t move your head

BUT then all the events of the past hour replayed in your head

to be fair

you were a very tired bean at this point

you’re surprised you even made it to the train without passing out

“agh my airpods died” hyunjin sighs

“rich people problems am i right”

“hey let me share with you”

“what no get your own”

“silly they died remember”

“... ughh fine since you were so nice to me this trip” you say as you pull an earbud out

“thanks princess”

“shh stop calling me that”

“ooo why not that’s what you are”

“it makes me feel funny inside” you say as you slowly fall asleep

at this point you MENTALLY facepalm

you really JUST said that 

“you’re so cute”

“shhhut up let me sleep”

then you hear the girl behind you say

“she’s laying on his shoulder and he’s laying on her head AND they’re sharing earphones! that’s so CUTE”

and that’s the last thing you hear before you let sleep take over you once again

a/n: and this is the end of part 4! hopefully 5 won’t take too long! thanK YOU THANK YOU FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPPORT 

[fuwushiguro]

So Now You're On Your Own, Won't You Come Back Home?

chapter three | masterlist | chapter five

Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader | Megumi Fushiguro x f!Reader

Genre: Smut & Angst with horror/thriller elements Notes: The reader in this fic is such a lil dummy I love her 🥺 Warnings: 18+, dubcon, age gap, slight fingering, pining, arguing, friendship struggles//loss of friendship, nausea, vomiting, missed period mention, tablet consumption (ibuprofen), self-loathing, depressive episode (reader stays in bed for a few days crying and won't talk to anyone), very angsty chapter tbh. Words: 5.3k

Synopsis: You meet a handsome older man while partying in Paris with your best friend. Going home with a man you've just met isn't usually your style, but looking at him is more than enough to dispel any doubts. But maybe you should have listened to your intuition.

Now.

We have now.

But you knew. You both knew that now wasn’t forever. Now has become the past. And now is you fighting back tears as you spend your final night with your lover. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to have sex when you were like this. So… emotional. He’s seen you cry. Boy, he has seen you cry. But there was always anger, sometimes irritation behind it. There were plenty of reasons to be angry at Toji Fushiguro and even more reasons to be irritated with him. But now, as you lie side by side in your California King Bed with moonlight dripping through the opened balcony door, you’re crying with nothing but sorrow behind your tears. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you wanted to share your body with him one final time before you never saw him again.

And tonight, neither of you cared if Nobara heard you.

But you do now. Care, that is. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so awkward in your entire life. Nobara had realised her feelings meant nothing to you when she walked in on you drifting off in Toji’s arms after your final, heart-wrenching fuck. Now you’re seated on your flight back home with not a word exchanged between either of you since you left the hotel.

This was… new. You’ve never known her to be so quiet in the entirety of your friendship. If there’s a thought on Nobara’s mind, she voices it. If there’s an opinion on the tip of her tongue, she’ll stab you with it. You’d expected her to shout and rave once she’d caught sight of Toji making himself comfortable in your bed, but she didn’t. She shut the door, calmly, and said nothing else.

You felt guilty. There was no other way to describe what you did than a betrayal. You’ve been lying to her for fourteen days straight with zero remorse, and that isn’t what a best friend should do. In hindsight, you’re sure she would have preferred the truth over you trying to keep it a secret from her. She would have been furious, sure, but to be so underhanded for a full two weeks is something Nobara can’t ignore.

You are a bitch. That’s what she thinks. You’d be stupid to think she thought otherwise. It’s the only word swirling through her mind as her vision alternates between the time on her Fitbit to the in-flight movie.

Bitch.

Stupid bitch.

Selfish bitch.

Fucking bitch.

She isn’t wrong, really. Stupid selfish fucking bitch. You put cock above your friendship, and it wouldn’t be the first time. It was a sin that you could wonder why you’ve got little to no friends. The fact that you can say you don’t trust them is laughable. Nobara was the one friend that you trusted above all else. You fully believed there were no ulterior motives behind her friendship with you and didn’t doubt her for a moment. That is the reason she is your best friend. Or rather, was, your best friend. It's looking very likely that title will be stripped when you touch down at the airport. You’ll be lucky if she speaks to you ever again.

Hell, you’ll be lucky if she even looks in your direction.

For the time being, you are at least lucky you have a nice view of the pink and orange clouds as day breaks through the sky. It’s stunning. It’s so simple and beautiful and it’s something you don’t think you’ve ever appreciated before although you have the opportunity to see it every single day. It’s sick, really. What has Toji done to you? He’s turned you into a lovesick fool who romanticises the sky.

There are no other thoughts in your mind but him. The heated two weeks you spent together and the feelings intensified and consumed you both. The mind-blowing sex and the fact he confessed that he’s in love with you. Will he tell the same lies to another tourist that he runs into in a nightclub tonight?

You don’t want to think about that.

At least pretend it was real. Falsify a scenario where he is in love with you and yearning for you.

It’s possible that it’s true, you keep telling yourself. The clouds remind you of the comfy mattress that has belonged to you for a fortnight. The mattress you shared with him for every single day of those two weeks. He whispered sweet nothings into your hair as you slipped into unconsciousness on the final night. You wanted to stay away, you wanted to bid him a true farewell in the morning when you left the hotel with your luggage in tow. A passionate, mournful goodbye is what you longed for. With tears streaming down your face as he kissed you and kissed you and didn’t want to let you go. A kiss, his kiss, where he licks the inside of your mouth followed by a fiendish grin on his face to see how bad it made you want him. He’d put his tongue back in your mouth and allow yours to swirl against his.

But that isn’t how it happened.

Instead, your couldn’t fight off sleep. You fell asleep in his arms, exactly how he wanted. He stayed for a while, played with your hair and telling you how he believed the two of you could rule the world if you really wanted. You’d already made Paris your playground, after all. He thought it would be better, that way. So he’s glad you’d done as he wished.

“Good girl.”

He tucked you beneath your blankets comfortably, kissing you a final farewell on your forehead before disappearing.

He’s in love with you.

And you… you feel like you could fall in love with him, easily.

You have, you’re far enough away from him that you can comfortably admit that to yourself. It was a pathetic, silly little game that you never wanted things to get to that point with him. It was meant to be nought but fun. It was a fierce and almost violent whirlwind romance. But you would never confess to him that your feelings extended beyond physical attraction. It doesn’t matter now, anyway. You’ll never see him again.

But oh well… you’ll always have Paris.

It was an unfortunate twist of fate that Nobara couldn’t convince her partner to get out of work early and pick her up from the airport. So, as per the original plan, she ended up getting a ride in your father’s town car with you.

Still, not a word was spoken. Even the chauffeur commented on your lack of communication. Noting that you’re usually thick as thieves and he ends up with a migraine by the time you step out of the car because you’re normally laughing so hard. It’s awkward. You both know how awkward it is that you’re refusing to speak to each other and now your chauffeur is fanning the flames.

You don’t particularly want to tell him that you prioritised a fuck ahead of your relationship with your dearest friend.

There was an overwhelming sense of joy when the town car pulled up to your home. You couldn’t get out quick enough when you spotted your daddy waiting for you on the driveway. Nobara had intended for the chauffeur to take her home the second you got out the car, but she felt a pang of shame as she recalled your father funded her entire trip to Paris. She thought she better get out and thank him, as pissed as she was at you, she knew it was the right thing. The polite thing.

She is as defiant as ever when he tries to invite her indoors for something to drink. He wants to hear all about your trip and gossip with you both. It’s odd, really, as disappointed as he is that you are nothing but a useless slut he still adores you. Worships the ground you walk on. Wants to make you the happiest girl in the world. He’d almost succeed if you weren’t so generally depressed about your own inadequacy.

A look of concern engulfs your father’s features when he sees one of your hands grip your stomach and the other fly to cover your mouth. You abandon your luggage, rushing indoors to search for the nearest bathroom. He wants to chase after you, but thinks better of it, glancing at Nobara instead.

“Will you check on her for me?” he queries. She shakes her head awkwardly with a smile.

“I- I’ve really got to get home.”

“Is there something going on between you? Actually, I won’t pry,” he backtracks as he considers your personal business. “I don’t think she’d like it if I rushed to her side. But you’re her best friend, aren’t you? Please check if she’s alright.” he pushes.

Nobara sighs. God she fucking hates you so much right now. And honestly, she hates your dad a little bit too. Only because he’s right. As furious as she was, she wasn’t about to throw away years of friendship over a singular trip that went slightly off track. She leaves her own luggage in the town car, and goes searching for you in your stupidly enormous mansion.

“Where are you, bitch? Airplane food not sitting right with ya or somethin’?” she jokes, waiting for a response as her trainers squeak against the marble flooring. You don’t answer, but she deduces where you are when she hears you vomiting violently into the toilet. She knocks on the door a few times, awaiting permission to enter. Which you grant.

She enters the room, sitting on the ground against the wall. Nobara can’t help but smile when she gets a good look of your smeared makeup and watery eyes. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer girl, she thinks.

“I know you didn’t eat shit on that plane. So what the hell’s wrong with you, huh?” she questions.

You’re terrified to answer. It’s your worst nightmare coming to life, you’re sure. It’s just your fucking luck and you don’t even want to think about it. There has got to be another explanation for why you’re so sick. Anything, but…

“So, not only did he manipulate you into carrying on fucking after he gaslit you about being French. But he also manipulated you into fucking raw, am I getting this right?” she criticises as she feels her own blood begin to bubble. How could you be such a stupid bitch?

“D-Don’t, Nobara.” you whimper, the most words you can get out of your trembling, sickly body. You’ve never felt so foul. The taste of vomit lingers on your tongue and you can feel several spit strings drooling from your lips like a bulldog.

“When was the last time you had a period?” she asks, her tone a lot more serious now.

You can’t answer, though. The thought of actually being pregnant is enough to make you hurl everything you have to offer into the porcelain bowl before you. It doesn’t bother Nobara. She’s tough. Tougher than you could ever dream to be. Nothing ever phases her, least of all your vomit. Especially when it’s a sight she has witnessed every weekend for years.

“Do you want me to run out and get you a test?” she offered.

“No fucking w-way,” you stutter, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “if my brother’s or my dad find out or find the test I’m fucked. They already know I’m useless and this will just prove I’m good for nothing but spreading my legs.”

“This useless, good for nothing woe is me shit is getting old. I don’t feel sorry for you so shut up. What are we going to do about it then?” she tells you harshly. You nod in agreement. There’s no use crying over spilled milk. It’s been two weeks since you fucked Toji without protection and you already know deep down that you’re fucking pregnant. It’s getting harder and harder to remember when you last had a period. You aren’t sure. You don’t fucking know. So, the next issue is how to deal with it.

“I’ll go to our private family doctor… please come with me.”

The whole ordeal is nerve wracking. Although your doctor is very discreet and trustworthy, you’ve been here enough times for several reasons. This seems like the worst of the worst. There is a stabbing sense of paranoia in your mind telling you that you are being silently judged. You aren’t – of course. What else are doctors for? To help people. And that is why you undergo test, after test, after test. And Nobara is there with you every step of the way.

She hates to admit that her brain is screaming with excitement over the prospect of being the fun aunt to your child. Hell, you’d probably let her be your baby’s godmother. Right? Of course. But you don’t want a fucking baby and she needs to remember herself. There isn’t anything worse for you right now. Bearing a bastard child to a man she assumes you’ll think of as a bad memory in the future.

“You aren’t pregnant.”

“Oh thank fucking God.” Nobara exclaims. You both turn to her as she now seems more relieved than you as she had lost herself in the thought of the fucker who could have potentially ruined you. But he hasn’t. Thank the heavens, you’re in the God damn clear.

“So… What’s wrong with me?” you ask, wondering if there is something worse wrong with you. Have you contracted something? Are you dying?

“I believe it’s slight altitude sickness from your flight. It could have also affected your menstrual cycle as well as the lack of sleep you mentioned to me earlier.” she explains, the tone of the room shifts instantly. Anxiety and terror has turned to bliss and delight. Yours and Nobara’s beaming smiles and squeals are even rubbing off on your doctor. “Get plenty of rest and take some ibuprofen and you should be fine.”

“Thank you so much… oh my GOD I’m so relived!” you smile some more. You both thank her one last time before departing.

Nobara held onto the keys of your car throughout the appointment. She had to drive you there, after all. Too sick and nervous to even think straight let alone drive the car. It didn’t bother her to drive you back, either. She was just happy it wasn’t as serious as you had thought.

No auntie Nobara. No bastard baby.

Aren’t you a lucky… stupid fucking bitch?

The car pulls up, and you don’t miss the way Nobara admires the town car. As much as she wants to leave; she supposes she at least better walk with you to your room and see you into bed. It’s nice, you think, that something like this seems to have brought you back together. She watches you change into your sultry satin pyjamas. It has never phased her when you strip in front of her, she’s seen every inch of you and every terrible state you can imagine. There is no one who ever has and ever will know you as intimately as Nobara.

“You should get some pyjamas on too, I’m sure you left some in your sleepover drawer. We could get cosy and watch a movie—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asks you, sternly. You’re taken aback. Have you done something wrong… again? You don’t remember doing anything so awful in the car that warrants her talking to you like this. “I was only playing nice because you were sick and scared. But now we know what’s wrong with you I have no desire to be around you for another second.”

“But—”

“Did you think I was just gonna forget everything? I don’t want to talk to you after what you did and if you think I’m being unreasonable you can go fuck yourself. You lied to me and ran around behind my back for two weeks.”

“I- I know Nobara. I am sorry… it’s just—”

“Save it. Do you think I want to hear your sob story excuse again? Or is it a love story this time? You know, since he’s such an upstanding, moral man.” she hisses. You’re spared no kindness as she tears into you about your life choices and sickening betrayal.

You were a fool for expecting everything to go back to normal so quickly.

“Here,” she says as she throws the box of ibuprofen she bought from the pharmacist at you, “I fucking hate you right now. I hate that you’ve made me so angry and I hate what you’ve done to our friendship.” she explains as she begins to walk away. “I’m warning you, don’t try and call and don’t text me. I don’t know when I’m going to be ready to talk to you again… because right now, it feels like never.” and with that final crushing statement, she slams the door behind her.

Her words cut deep, and you can’t stop yourself from crying. You know you shouldn’t. She just wants space, it’s clear that she still wants to be friends with you. But everything she has told you seems far too much. She hates you. There’s not a time in your life you can recall saying something so gut clenching to each other - in a serious tone anyway. The way you’re crying is loud, ugly and dizzying.

Your father sits by your side while holding your hands and a box of tissues for you to use. The hours go by and yet the tears don’t stop. He’s struggling to crack you, too. He’s desperate to know what’s wrong. He’s deduced it’s relationship strife between you and Nobara. Your intense friendship is very much on the line. But there’s not a chance in hell you’re about to tell your father the reason you’re arguing. As far as you’re concerned, he thinks you’re a virgin.

Your brothers know different. The brother’s who just got back from their own vacation and are actually being nice to you for once. Well, that isn’t fair. They’re nice to you most of the time… they just pity you. They look down on you. And that is very evident on their faces right now. Their stupid sister crying in bed like a romcom cliché, how trite.

They know what a total slut you are. But they wouldn’t tell your dad. There has got to be some loyalties through your sibling bond after all. It doesn’t enter their mind that it could be the reason for your endless tears. Women are emotional for no reason sometimes, right?

Days go by, and neither of the four men in your life can pry you out of bed. It is all simply too much. Nobara hates you. You’re back to the reality of being the useless child among your family. And, to make matters worse, you’re missing someone you shouldn’t. You do miss him, though. There is nothing you can do about that. You know if he was here right now, he’d be calling Nobara names and telling you it’ll all be okay. You have him after all, what else do you need? And you’re fairly sure the whole pep talk would end with him ploughing you into the mattress until you forget your own name, let alone your problems.

“How about you come out shopping with me today, we can pick up my gift for you together?” your father suggests, hoping to coax you out of your slump. It always works. The promise of a gift has your ears pricking up. It’s the first time you’ve made eye contact with him since you got home from your trip to your family doctor. You’ve rolled over in your bed so that you can face him, questioning doe eyes looking up at him. So glossy and bloodshot. You’ll feel better soon, he’s sure of it.

“You got me a gift?” you ask him, eyelashes fluttering at the prospect of being spoilt rotten by your beloved father.

“I put the order in a little while ago. It was a cheer up gift for when you were sad about your brother’s going to Germany without you. And now, it can be a cheer up gift for… now.”

You shoo him out of your room so that you can do your hair and makeup as well as change. Actually, you definitely should shower. The days in bed without changing have certainly took a toll on your body as well as your aroma.

The steaming water dousing your body feels like a new lease of life. It’s like you are reborn. Things will be fine, now you’re sure of it too. When your father puts in an order, it can only mean one thing. Something big. Something custom. And something expensive. You’ll be a new woman when you find out what is soon to be yours. Things with Nobara will work out, you’re now confident in that. So now, why not enjoy what you do have? A new gift on the way and a phone full of contacts who can take away your pain.

And you’re going to look divine as you experience it all.

Your father is ecstatic to see you looking back to your normal self. A face full of makeup, hair done to perfection and expensive material covering your body. Should he be concerned that he has raised such a materialistic, vapid daughter who is only concerned with looks, money, power and cock? Most definitely, but you have him wrapped around your little finger. The runt of the litter, that’s you. And the runts need the most love. So, he’ll do just about anything to put a smile on his little girl’s face.

You’re a little confused as your eldest brother accompanies you on your journey to the shopping boulevard. He never wants to come shopping with you and it is a rare treat for him to want to hang out with you. And he’s even being nice. Not one quip about you being stupid or useless.

You suspect your dad has bribed him.

He almost wants to scold you both for being childish when your brother prods at your sides and you manage to pinch his nose. It starts off as a joke, but the more it continues the more serious and irritated you both become. It’s turning into all out violence within seconds. And you know he could easily beat you, but no way would he ever consider actually harming you. You, on the other hand, are more than happy to punch and kick him.

“Behave yourselves for fuck sake. Are you listening to me? Give it a God damn rest.” your father chastises as he turns back to observe you two carrying on. The tone of his voice is enough to make you both stop. You do your best to fix your hair while your brother smooths out his shirt. He flicks your nose and you give him one last hard slap to his upper arm. You both shrink in on yourselves when you realise you’re getting a few disapproving stares.

Definitely not the right way to act in public. Especially here.

Squealing was an understatement to describe what you were doing when you laid eyes on your larger-than-life gift from your father. You had suspected you were getting a new car; but nothing as grand and lavish as this.

“Is pink still your favourite colour?” he asks you, teasingly and you stand with your hands on your hips and body covered head to toe in pink attire. He urged you to wear something a little warmer, it’s late November for crying out loud. Fashion trumps weather conditions. Every. Single. Time. Pink fluffy bucket hat, sunglasses, vinyl trench coat, crop top, skirt, and over the knee boots. As well as a bubblegum pink Telfar bag that you begged your daddy for.

Of course pink is still your favourite colour.

That is why you are currently staring at your baby pink custom order Bugatti. It’s a dream come true. You’ve always wanted a Bugatti. Although your father reminds you that you said the same thing about your six-month-old pastel blue Porsche. Yes, he is right. But now you have two cars to accessorise your outfits with. Although, you hadn’t expected to be getting a pink Bugatti. You’ll definitely be using that car more.

And now it makes sense why your brother joined you on your trip to the shopping boulevard. He is going to drive your new car home while you take a ride home with your daddy.

“Why does he get to drive my new car home?” you ask your father, a little annoyed that you won’t be the first person to take your new car out for a spin.

“Because you are spending time with our dear old dad, and you’ll probably crash it before you make it home.” your brother torments. Before you can retaliate, he speeds home in your new car. He better not hurt her, you think to yourself.

“C’mon sweetheart. Should we go for a coffee before we head home?”

Normally you wouldn’t think twice about declining an offer to spend an extended period of time with your father outside of your allocated schedule. Yes, there is a schedule. Vacations throughout the year are the most time you spend with him in a set amount of weeks, but other times you usually plan week by week when you will spend time with each other. It’s usually weekdays but you don’t oppose to Sunday’s either. Friday’s and Saturday’s however, your schedule remains cleared. If there is a party or an event, there is no way you’ll allow your father to intervene. And as much as you’d like to rush home and take some pictures and selfies with your new car to brag about on your socials; you suppose the least you can do is join him for a coffee.

The coffee shop is huge, and it’s one of your favourites. There are plenty of tables and chairs downstairs, but you always opt to sit upstairs whenever you come here. There are seats where you can see directly downstairs if you sit near enough to the balcony. It’s a great place to people watch. You and your father have had a game since you were twelve where you would narrate the lives of the people who came in and out.

He can’t tempt you to participate in such a long forgotten game these days, though. You’re too busy with your nose in your phone. Aimlessly scrolling through Instagram and Twitter in search of any news or gossip on upcoming parties or club nights at the weekend. And maybe you can’t stop yourself from checking up on Nobara’s pages to make sure she’s okay. There’s on photo on her Instagram of a dinner plate at a restaurant, it must have been a date night.

“Is that…?” your father whispers. You only just hear what he says. Still too captivated by the lives and goings on of other people to look down and offer a response. It doesn’t concern you what he does while you’re with him now. You’re here, and that’s what he wanted. If he asks you a more interesting question or provides some better entertainment, you’ll be happy to put your phone away. But for now, you hope whoever he has spotted is a friend of his – purely so he has somebody to speak to. “Fushiguro?”

That has got to be the worlds biggest coincidence. It’s an incredibly unique surname, you think, and yet your father also knows somebody by that name. Your interest is piqued and you finally have the decency to look up from your phone.

Although you wish you didn’t.

Is it possible to get high from ibuprofen? It must be. Because there is no way you’re seeing your father shake hands with your holiday fling right now. Why would Toji be in your hometown when you know he lives in France? Did he… follow you here? No, of course he didn’t. There’s something wrong with your brain, you’re seeing things.

“Toji, I haven’t seen you since—”

“Please, God please don’t say the year. I’ll remember how old I am.” he jokes. Your father laughs along with him and you can’t help but sit with your jaw swinging low enough to catch flies. He is here. He actually is here. “And is this your daughter?” he questions, clearly already knowing the answer to that. Your father nods, while Toji holds out a hand to introduce himself to you as if you haven’t been fucking for two weeks straight in Paris.

You doubt your father would still have that stupid smile on his face if he knew.

“How come you’re in town after all of these years? Are things okay with—?”

“The business is fine, yes, better than fine in fact.” Toji interrupts him once more. “I suppose I’ve missed the place, like you said it’s been a long time since I’ve been in town… Will you excuse me for a minute?” Toji asks, before looking through the smoke colour of your sunglasses and directly into your dumbfounded eyes. “I have to use the bathroom.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer from your father, already heading in the direction of the toilets. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that was an invitation to follow him. A few minutes go by, and after you quickly down the remainder of your latte you excuse yourself as well.

You barely see him before he’s shoving you against the nearest wall and slotting his lips against yours. His left hand instantly snakes up your little skirt and he stuffs his fingers down your thong. Which, of course, is also pink.

“T-Toji, s-stop it.” you moan into his mouth. He removes his fingers from your drenched heat and smiles into your mouth.

“God I fucking missed you,” he tells you. You begin kissing each other between sentences of adoration and desperate want for each other. Neither of you able to articulate how badly you craved each other. And you knew you didn’t have much time to enjoy your desperate reunion. “You still have my number. Use it. I want to see you again.”

“I want to see you too, please. Missed you so much.” you confess as you shove your tongue into his mouth once more before he can finish telling you what he needs you to hear.

“I just bought a cabin out in the sticks. It’s big, expensive. Gorgeous property. Got it for the winter months. Join me there.”

“But I—”

“Join me there.” he orders. You nod, but in reality you know you’ll have to think about it and make certain arrangements if needs be. “You can bring that pretty pink new car o’ yours.” he grins, kissing you softly on the cheek one last time before finally leaving the bathroom.

You aren’t sure if he’ll still be there by the time you leave the bathroom too. But there’s one thing you know. There’s not a chance in hell you won’t be using that number to hook up with him again. And who are you kidding? You already know you’re going to that fucking cabin of his. Big, expensive and gorgeous. And he will be there to keep you nice ‘n warm.

If you do this, though, there’s a chance your friendship with Nobara will be over for good. And you aren’t entirely sure if Toji Fushiguro is worth it. But you also don’t know if you care about your friendship with Nobara anymore. Toji is here. In your hometown. In the flesh. He loves you, he told you so. He loves you so much he followed and found you here. But he’s been here before… apparently. And he knows your father.

There are too many coincidences for them to be coincidences.

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[padme4amidala]

Feels like home

Description: After the events of the Reichenbach, Moriarty is still alive and is still playing with Sherlock’s mind yet he has someone else to entertain him.

Pairing: James Moriarty x Reader

Word count: 1,989

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

A/N: To be completely honest, I don’t really know what this is, except that it’s an one shot (if people like it I might do a part 2???). I wrote it because one of my friends keeps encouraging me to get out of my comfort zone with my creativity. It’s my first piece of creative writing I’ve done in a few years so feedback is more than appreciated. Hope you like it 💙

This side of London has always been more humid, at least in her opinion. It smelled like fish and water weeds. The air was suffocating due to the heatwave that had hit earlier that month. It felt like being trapped in a fishnet.

Luckily enough, the business building she spent most of her time in was at the exact opposite pole.

Stale rooms.

Chemical smell of detergents clinging to the air. A bit of "fresh computer" notes too.

Always cold and crisp.

In this particular office though, the aroma of a scented candle masks the artificial feeling of the whole scene. The March sun shines weakly but it's a welcomed change from the white neon.

As she stepped closer to his desk, her high heels echoed, making him a little more aware of her presence. He turned away from the window as she sit on one of the chairs and took in the view in front of him.

"You should really quit smoking, you know. It taints you"

She looked him in the eyes, daring him to continue, mostly to satisfy her own curiosity.

"It's like taking a bite of an apple. Then you discover the worm inside"

"But isn't the apples with worms the healthiest ones? Away from all the chemicals and genetic modifications? Raw and pure through their own tainted nature?" Her words were calm and steady. She was just pointing out the obvious, after all.

He chuckled and stepped closer, bent down to kiss her cheek and lingered for a moment.

Sweet Chanel perfume- his gift for Christmas.

Faint smell of menthols.He wouldn't admit, but he felt like home being so close to her.

"I missed you"

"I missed you too"

Ah, there it was. The strong espresso she adored.

He sit next to her, instead of choosing his chair on the other side of the desk. He wouldn't admit, but her presence was simply intoxicating.

"How was it?"

"Same old. Though, if you'd agree, at once, to come with me, I'd probably see it differently"

There was a short pause before she added:

"It rained a lot. Everyday, actually"

"Good. Then next time I'll come."

Ten years ago, when they'd first met, it was in Dublin.

It was downpouring.

She was wearing a navy tailored suit with a white shirt and high heels. Her butler was holding a black umbrella for her while she was taking a drag out of a cigarette. Her crimson lips stained the filter while she was observing the city life through the lenses of her Holly Golightly sunglasses.

"I like here"

Her butler nodded as she threw the butt of her cigarette.

Inside, she was welcomed by the aroma of a scented candle and a man behind a mahogany desk who raised from his chair the moment she entered the room. Alone, of course. Her butler was to wait until the business was done.

The man shook her hand and they quickly started talking about the reason she was there.

"I shall send my people to take care of this and if you are ever in need of my help again, Mr Moriarty, do not hesitate to pay me a visit at my headquarters in Paris."

The man nodded and smiled-a genuine smile that resonated in his eyes, to her surprise.

"It's James"

Her smile though, didn't reach her eyes. This was just another client and business was simply business.

She could sense his cologne as he walked her to the door, strong yet subtle, sweet and woodsy blending perfectly with the lavender aroma of the air.

"Goodbye Mr Moriarty"

"How’s the Royal contract?"

“ Full of sissies. There’s a lot of unsolved drama between the brothers” She said, taking  a sip of her tea. “It’s going to take a while but I’m a patient person. How’s Sherlock? Still thinking you had left Easter eggs for him everywhere?

“And you mean I didn’t? C’mon Y/N don’t insult me.”

“I’m not actually, You just got too...attached to this project. If it wasn’t for Eurus…”

“Is that jealousy I sense Y/L/N ?”

“Hardly”

She finished her tea in silence before quietly mentioning that she would leave for Denmark in two days.

“Anything I should know about? ”

“No”, she answered softly, not meeting his gaze.

The candle in this room had a flowery scent, not unusual, though. It was March.

"Let's go home, then "

The drive to their apartment was short. The two-levels flat was a few minutes away from their main building, in case something was to happen and they were needed there. It was simple yet delicately decorated, they both had chosen the furniture on their way to London after a weekend in Paris, four year ago. She had decided to move most of her work to England and had to get some last things from her French office.

They had dinner, and then cuddled in their bedroom while watching some old movie. She fell asleep after a short time,  the smell of soap and cologne from James' warm form lulling her to the land of dreams.

He looked at her adoringly while playing with her hair. He saw himself  King and now he has found his castle, and his castle was anywhere she was. She warmed the thick stone walls and turned them into a home whenever he was around.

This was home.

Three loud knocks on the door disturbed their peace, though.

"Kill whoever disturbs us before I do, James" she said, voice full with sleep.

He grabbed his robe, climbed down the stairs and opened the door.

One man he hadn't seen in a really long time was before him and it was no one else but Mycroft Holmes.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure, Mr Holmes? Please come in. Shall I put the kettle on?"

"My visit is short and precise, Moriarty."

"Yes of course. Ice man has a lot of important things to do. Why here and now?"

" There is someone with a soft spot for your .....partner, to say so"

"Who wouldn't? Have you seen her?"

"This someone is the CIA, Moriarty"

"With the right people, they'll forget her. A few willing participants and I was found not guilty after stealing the crown jewels in plain daylight"

"I wouldn't have come if I didn't consider it a serious matter"

There was a long pause and conflict was written over Moriarty's face. Why should he believe Mycroft? Then again, why would Mycroft lie?

"They already have the arrest warrant"

"On what grounds?"

"All of them. From tax evasion to first degree murder"

"We have countless ways of solving this"

"There is rumour that, whoever is after our dear Y/N, wants her out of the game. She is eligible for death sentence. "

"When?"

"Two days from now"

In the morning, their chef made breakfast- black coffee, croissants and oatmeal porridge for the lady and a full Irish breakfast for the man.

“Are you playing with Sherlock today?”

“No. Why? You act like he’s my mistress”

A heartfelt giggle came from her at his words.

“It’s not that, I was just wondering if we could enjoy some…. What do they call it...domesticity? Yes. Domesticity. Too much has happened lately, I need a breath of fresh air before I start again.

”“ Don’t tell me you’ve gotten soft, Y/N”

“ Years of criminality, and suddenly you’re “soft” for wanting to spend some time with your significant other. Unbelievable

”He chuckled then kissed her hand.It was 6 am and yet here she was, in front of him, like a porcelain doll.

“Look who’s soft now”

She played the piano that day.

Started with Bach, to lighten the mood.

“This is for you, my darling. I promise, it’s better than Sherlock’s boring violin. Piano’s more personal”

“You really have to get over your obsession with him, sweetheart.”

“Only after you do.” she said with a grin.

Partita no 1, then Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata and her favourite- Vivaldi’s Seasons.

He abruptly interrupted her when he put ABBA on their speakers.

“Really?” she asked cocking her eyebrow.“I can’t have you playing when I want to dance with you”

They started waltzing around the room and he was keeping her close, so very close, as if he was scared someone would barge in and steal her from him.

“JAMES MORIARTY, CRIMINAL MASTERMIND, AN ACTUAL ROMANTIC. Wait till the newspapers hear it”

“Nah, they wouldn’t believe it”

He didn’t dare kissing her. No. He just held her in his arms, in the middle of the living room, admiring her, his most precious prize. She could actually keep him entertained, and proof was their decade of mischief.

He took in her scent- he was sure he would have to cling only to that for a while. He knew. This contract of hers would keep her away for some time. He was in a similar position at that moment, the difference was that he had to stay away from the youngest Holmes and his friends not from her.

Sweet Chanel perfume.

Faint smell of menthols.

This was his.

The next morning he woke her up at the crack of the dawn.

“Pack a bag. NOW. You're going to Tibet. or Brazil. You choose. Where's Edwin? I already have a boat ready. He's coming with you.”

“James. Calm down, you're giving me a headache. Why do I suddenly need my butler when I’m in my own apartment? What time is it?”

“Mycroft told me. You have to leave NOW”

She sat up in the bed.

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to find out. Calm down, now. Sit with me. Let’s have tea”

By now Moriarty was furiously packing. When he heard her words, he had the eyes of a mad man, not that he wasn’t, but this time, all the elegance was gone. He was like the sea on a stormy day, unsettled and terrifying but she kept going.

“All they have is receipts with fake names. Personas with strong backgrounds.”

“THEY HAVE A WARRANT, DUMMY”

“And since when are we afraid of that? Since when are YOU?”

“We are in no control over this. We CAN manage it but-”

“But, what? What name is on that piece of paper, exactly? Samantha Albridge, the one who owns the building uptown? or Marcie Page, the french redhead with the shop in Paris? Natasha Kristoff, who killed the Ukranian diplomat in Krakow? Which one?”

“Mycroft said they're after you.”

“Mycroft IS JUST A PAWN.”

“Not to the CIA”

She scoffed at his words.

“We are a few steps behind. We need time to catch up.”

“ I am in full control over this, just like you were over Saint Bartholomew.”

She winked at him and went into the bathroom.

They spent the rest of the day in silence. They had lunch, then she packed and ran some last errands.

He met Mycroft. Royal security and his own snipers should be a good backup plan.

At midnight they left together towards the private plane in separate cars.

“We can’t risk people to see us together, you’re still dead. It’d blow up years of this plan” she said to him before kissing his cheek and getting into her car.

The total drive was 17 minutes.

He was 5 late due to his chauffeur avoiding a drunk driver.

When he got off, he saw her getting on the plane.

2 minutes later it blew up.

He felt like he falling yet his destination wasn’t permanent as he no longer had one.

He got so entranced with this woman during their time together, he felt angry and highly annoyed at her stunt, gasoline and the smell of fire filling his senses.

There was a fire in front of him yet the one inside was stronger.

“My dear, you better thought this through.”

He got into the car and called off the backup men.

It rained heavily that night.