#he's bored! he's lonely! he wants things to do he

[rosenclaws]

One More Present || Logan Howlett drabble

summary: Logan has one more present for you

warnings: light smut, STILL MINORS DNI AND 18+ ONLY TY, light bondage lol

wc: 546

a/n: So this is a really stupid drabble I thought it would be funny and so here it is lmao. To all the people who wanted a wolverine under their Christmas tree <3

Christmas with your neighbors was more fun than you've had in a long time. It was also the most you've drank in a while. Wade really went all out with his party and his gifts.

Though you really didn't need the uh, interesting picture calendar he had put together for everyone. You're pretty sure you saw Logan throw his into the fireplace when Wade wasn't looking.

The day after Christmas was spent doing pretty much nothing. Logan had taken refuge in your bed as he normally does since you started dating but he was forced to go back to help the clean up. Waking up without your personal space heater was a lonely experience but he left you his flannel at least.

Unfortunately for you, you couldn't escape going back to work and were trapped at your boring job wishing you could be home with Logan instead. Your phone pinged and you looked to see a text from Logan.

Wade's finally fucking gone.

You laugh as you can picture just how much Wade had gotten on Logan's nerves today.

I'm almost done, I miss you

You text back. Logan accidently hits a few different things before finally thumbs uping your message. He really was an old man with technology sometimes. As the time ticked and you were nearing the end of the day you got one more message.

Found something in our bedroom, I think you have one more present to open.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. You can't remember leaving anything and Logan isn't really one for surprise gifts. He would have given it to you yesterday. As you clocked out you tried to call him but he didn't pick up. Weird.

"Logan?" You call as you step through the door.

"In here!" He calls from the bedroom. You shrug off your coat and drop your bag, expecting to find him lounging on the bed or something.

"Hey what..." Your voice trails off as you walk into the room. Logan was laying in bed for sure, but completely naked.

He's smirking as he sits in his totally naked glory. His abs are on full display, thick thighs, and big arms. You swear he was...shiny? But you weren't complaining.

What really catches your eyes is his fat cock, a big red bow tied around it. The red ribbon trailed up his body and sat at one of his wrists which tied him to the bedframe. His muscles flex as he sits up.

"How did you know this is what I asked Santa for?" You tease as you move over to the bed, admiring your stupidly hot boyfriend. He shrugs, the ribbon straining against his muscles.

"You got one more present sweetheart." He looks down to the bow.

"Want to unwrap it?" You smirk as you slowly strip your clothes.

"Merry Christmas to me." You purr as you climb onto the bed.

He watches with hungry eyes as you take the edge of the bow in your teeth and pull it, freeing his cock. Winking as you lower your head. Logan groans as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, dancing your tongue just the way he likes it. He tugs on the ribbon and somehow it doesn't rip.

"Hope that ribbon can hold you, because I want to have a little fun tonight."

[enbyfvcker]

[Through the phone]

Wade Wilson x Logan (worst!wolverine)

Word count: 1,4k

Summary/prompt: Logan isn't used to this technology thing, but he lets Wade gift him a phone to make him happy. Turns out he finds rather... enticing ways to use his new phone when Wade's away on a job and he's feeling extra needy.

Tags: Smut, established relationship, sub/dom undertones, masturbation, praise kink, phone sex, Logan likes being talked through it.

Wade liked to drag Logan along with him for shopping like he usually does after receiving from his mercenary jobs. He liked spoiling his little kitty cat and buying him stuff.

Logan would say 'no' at first, but then Wade would insist and insist, and well, he was mostly bored anyway, so he eventually gives in. When it comes to Wade, Logan usually gives in.

They were both in their civvies: Logan wearing denim pants, a wife pleaser, and a flannel. All his clothes were bought by Wade after he moved in. He apparently seemed to know what Logan likes or not.

Wade was wearing a hoodie and with the hood over his head. Logan noticed that the merc still wasn't fully in his comfort zone when he went out in public without his suit because of his appearance. But he seemed to deal better with it - with all the stares - when Logan was there by his side.

Wade was strolling around with the cart filled with things (variating from cleaning products, towels, food, unicorm plushies...) while Logan follows behind him, his hands in his pockets.

Wade comes to a stop when they pass over the eletronics session, looking at all the mobiles on display.

"Hey, peanut?"

"Hm."

"You don't really have a phone, do you? Wanna pick one?" Wade asks with a grin.

"Why?"

"Well, isn't it inconvenient?"

"Not really... I can't think of a situation where I would need one. And I'm also not really good with... Technology and stuff."

"Oh, okay..." Wade pouts like a hurt child, and Logan rolls his eyes.

"What?"

"Well, what if you miss me one day when I'm out for a job and wanna talk to me? You could also always text Laura to check up on her sometimes." Wade suggests and gives a dramatic sigh. "But well, if you don't want it..."

Logan considers for a moment and grunts lowly as he walks to the phones on display and tries to pick one. Wade watches with sparkling eyes and a grin.

He didn't really know the difference between the damn things. There were so many models, so he just chose a random one and placed it in the cart.

"There."

"Yay! Can't wait to introduce you to the technology world. You might wanna stay away from Ao3, though... there's some pretty nasty stuff in there. I mean, I love 'em, don't get me wrong. But I don't think you'd be pleased with what our fans fantasize about us."

"The fuck are you talking about?" Logan asks with an raised eyebrow. He was used to Wade saying weird shit like that. Honestly, he should just stop trying to understand the guy.

"Nothing, princess! Let's check out, shall we?"

...

It took some teaching from Wade for Logan to understand how to use his new phone. He didn't really use it much, though. But Wade was right. It was nice being able to talk to Laura and hear about how she's doing more often. They would meet and hang out every couple week, but her life seemed pretty busy after she started college. So now they could always call each other to catch up.

Wade was also right about... Well, the other part.

Usually, Logan would come along with Wade to help with any missions, but sometimes Wade would just go alone.

It was dark outside already, and it has been some hours since Wade wasn't home. Times like that, when he’s bored and lonely, he craves a drink more than anything. It was really damn hard trying to stay sober.

He walks to Wade's room and lies on his stomach on the bed, grunting with a soft rumble on his chest.

He missed Wade.

God, he can't believe it.

The apartment was finally silent for once, and he missed Wade's stupid voice.

He feels ridiculous.

Logan sniffs on the pillows, smelling Wade's scent. He smelled like gun powder and strawberry lotion. He feels his cock harden at the scent and he groans with frustration, his cheeks a soft blush and his eyebrows furrowed. His fists clenches as he starts to rut slowly against he matress, feeling completely pathetic.

It wasn't enough.

He takes his phone from his pocket and turns on his back, dialing the third contact from alphabetic order from his list.

He only has 3:

Althea

Laura

Wade

It rings and rings, and Logan almost just cancels the call, but then he hears Wade's voice.

"Hi, peanut. Missing me already? I do, too, honey- Motherfucker! Have some manners, can't you see I'm on the phone!" Wade grunts in pain over the line after apparently taking a couple shots.

"Is this not a good time?" Logan asks with a low voice, his hand moving down his own abdomen.

"No, no, baby girl. I always have time for you." Logan feels his cock twitching at Wade's words, his breathing getting more elaborated. He could hear Wade grunting, probably in the middle of a fight. "Don't worry, as I soon as I wrap this up, I'm coming home to you, kitten."

Logan usually scowl and reprimanded Wade at the pet names he usually uses, but Wade could hear softs gasps over the line so quietly he almost misses it, and if he had any eyebrows, they'd be raised.

"Don't take long." Logan whispers, his voice hoarse as he palms himself over his boxers.

"What are you doing?" Wade asks with a clear grin on his voice, and Logan hears a few shotguns and screams.

"Talking to you." Logan replies bluntly. He couldn't help but let out a soft moan when he slipped his hand under his underwear to touch himself properly. He gives a couple slow strokes, biting his lip strongly enough to draw blood.

"Nothing more?"

"No..."

"Oh, my little honey badger, you're a terrible liar." Wade accuses, making Logan's cheeks flush harder. "Are you that needy, hm? Kitty can't wait for me to get home?"

Wade doesn't receive a response, only desperate whimpers that were clearly escaping through bitten lips. He runs his katana through a couple of criminals and chuckles to himself.

"So cute, princess. You just needed to hear my voice, didn't you? I bet you must be dripping all over my bed right now. Bad boy... Gotta train you to learn and wait for me."

"Wade..." Logan grunts, his hand moving faster at a steady rhythm, his eyed shut tightly as he imagines it is Wade's scarred hands on him. He rubs his thumb over his tip and whines.

"It's okay, baby. I'll let it slide this time. Be a good kitty and make yourself feel good, yes? You sound so pretty."

Logan moans louder at the praise, his cock twitching and leaking pre cum into his fingers. He starts rutting his hips up, fucking his fist at a desperate pace.

"Keep talking..." Logan half begs half commands, making Wade smirk under his mask as he dodges from a chair that hit the wall behind him.

"You know, for someone who's always telling me to shut up, you sure sound quite desperate for it right now. I know you love it, kitten, even if you won't admit it. I know you love hearing me say how good you are for me, how pretty you look when you're all messy and pliant under me, how much of a good fucking boy you are..."

Logan straight up whimpers.

"Are you gonna be a good boy for me and make a mess all over yourself, baby?"

"Wannabegood, wannabegood, wannabegood..." Logan babbles between needy moans, and Wade knew he was close.

"I know you do, princess." Wade shots the last one of the criminals and they drop dead to the floor along with the others. "Cum for me."

"Wade, fuck-!" He whines as he spills all over his fist and stomach, his back arching off the bed. He strokes himself through the aftershocks, his moans turning into heavy pants as he catches his breath. He feels a rush of embarrassment as his mind clears off, but then he hears Wade praising him.

"Good kitty. Alright, I'm done here." Wade says as he looks to all the bodies around him. "I'm coming home, darling! I have a boner the size of a lighthouse right now. It's really hard focusing on fighting like this."

Logan chuckles, his breathing still heavy. "Just come home already."

[cafe-mysa]

the games in the warden's closet || wriothesley oneshot

title: the games in the warden's closet day 4: mulled wine // playing board games // "i have no regrets." // "cheer up dude. it's christmas." fandom: genshin impact character: wriothesley wc: 472 c/w: slightly suggestive towards the end but nothing actually happens!!! oneshot (credit to @12daysofchristmas for the prompt) !!content under the cut!!

"welcome," wriothesley smirked, "to my humble abode down here in hell."

"i'm honoured," you stated wryly, "thank you, oh grand duke."

"no problem, my dear~"

"i can't believe you asked me to come to prison for christmas, what an awful christmas present."

the man laughed, following closely behind you up the stairs with a sly grin, shrugging off his fur coat as he sat down in his chair, sighing tiredly.

"i can't believe i have to stay down here when it's christmas," he muttered, massaging the bridge of his nose, "it's so boring down here."

"what, you don't have anything to do down here?"

"it's so lonely," he lamented, "that's why i brought you down here with me, [name], so we could do things together... but if you don't..." he gazed at you under his bangs, smirking victoriously as you relented.

"can't you go back up to the surface?"

"what, and leave all of them by themselves for christmas?" he scoffed, "have you no manners?"

"just a suggestion," you backed off, wandering aimlessly towards the closet in the corner of the hall, his icy eyes following your move as he placed his gauntlet down with a groan.

"there's nothing in there, you know." a beat. "and you need keys to open that."

"well do you have the keys, oh grand duke?"

he smirked, standing and sliding the chair back.

"and if i said i did?"

"then i'd ask you, kindly, grand duke, if you could open the closet so we could if it is, as you say," you hummed, turning around and letting him move past you, "truly empty."

he feigned surprise as he yanked the door open unceremoniously, grinning wolfishly.

"well, would you look at that, it's a christmas miracle."

"jerk," you huffed, taking out the wooden box, "you planted this here earlier."

"your proof?" he huffed, gazing down at you with a raised brow.

"because nobody else is allowed up here, minus the very fortunate - or unfortunate, i should say - criminals, and sigewinne," you listed, "and i'm not quite sure how any of them would be brave enough to manage to sneak a board game in here, find a locked closet, steal your keys, proceed to lock it again and give your keys back."

"you gonna arrest me?" he muttered lowly, fingers twitching around his metal handcuffs.

"just shut up and play," you scoffed, the corners of your lips twitching upwards slightly as you strode past him and placed the board on the table, "if i win, i take you up to the surface with me?"

"i'll do you one better," the duke smirked, sitting in his chair cockily, "if i win, you'll let me do whatever i want with you. after all, you're my christmas present, and there's quite a few things i have planned this year."

[dan-crimes]

airy for the Bingo 👀👀

I know my opinions are prolly wrong and controversial but I do not care anymore since the show has been over for a good while

So let me just tap into my old knowledge of how I feel about the show and Airy as a character

Alright so yeah I'm on the more extreme side of things of just like Airy didn't do anything wrong ever, this isn't even me being like oh favourite character or anything it's just kinda like I just genuinely do not think he was ever thinking about anything he was doing ever

Obviously he still did bad things but like the thing is, when you DIE you don't really DIE so death kinda loses its meaning and there isn't really that impact anymore of Airy killing people and he had to also die multiple times likely in order to get where he is

So UNDERSTANDABLY there is a lack of connection there, a lack urgency in death @ the Plane once Airy understands how to bring people back

Obviously there is still a LOT of fucked up shit if you REALLY think about it and really connect with the characters and try and feel what they must be feeling BUT to think Airy is this fucked up cold and unfeeling villain aware of his actions is just not it

He just isn't. There. He's not there lmao it doesn't really feel like there is a way to get it through to him that what he's doing is causing problems bcuz it's like a sandbox game for him he doesn't understand that things happen without him that those are PEOPLE existing in his little world that they have lives and are effected by his actions

He only has a connection when he sees Liam in person and like there were other times he showed care and concern but it's a lot more apparent when someone is physically there with you, you can see and feel them and they have an impact on you

Plus he did feel bad about what he had done in the past but there's not really a way for you to properly process that so understandably he just doesn't, like it obviously bothers him but he also doesn't want to be alone and I understand how boredom is a killer

Plus I think he's prolly always been a bit messed up but it really comes out when you've been thru things ur never gonna be able to fully understand or process so you simply don't and just accept things and do things a certain way bcuz you just gotta

[theokusgallery]

The problem with my art right now is that 1) the little drawing time I have goes to @daily-basil ; 2) I have phases, and am currently deeply unmotivated ; and 3) when I do draw what this blog is currently about (Arsenic) I draw him in a gay way (because I love him deeply) and not like the unhinged person he actually is. I'm sorry I'm so soft about him right now. Yes I want Sunny and him to tear each other apart but they also need to love each other so so so much first

[raccoonfagdyke]

I just wish people liked being around me

[lecliss]

I love how much of Kadaj's screen time in OO is just him popping up wherever Seph is and trying to fight. Like, babey boy. You are not being productive to the plot at all, but I appreciate you trying anyway.

[ozzgin]

I just finished playing Firewatch and the cozy, lonely vibes gave me another monster idea! You got a summer job as a fire watch for the closest National Park. All you have to do is to sit in your tower, and...watch. For fires. Sounds boring? Worry not, your supervisor is there to keep you company over the radio. Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior, suggestive ending

"And? What are you running away from?"

"Excuse me?"

You raise your eyebrows at the unexpected question coming from the radio. The deep voice belongs to your supervisor, the man who'll guide you throughout your stay at the National Park.

"No one picks up an isolated job in the mountains out of sheer desire. Especially someone as young as you." He chuckles briefly, then resumes in a more professional tone: "My apologies. You don't have to answer that."

What a strange way to begin the conversation, you think to yourself. Yet this nonchalance and casualty is all you have for the following months. The other watchtowers don't talk much, if at all. You're entirely alone in the wilderness, save for the mysterious man on the radio.

Slowly, you begin to warm up to his chatty nature. He likes to ask a lot of questions. A terribly curious individual, though you can understand his reasoning: he's been working for the Park for over a decade. How does one survive without another human being?

He never leaves his tower, and thus you've never seen his face. He's content, you're indifferent. Occasionally, he'll mention sketching you to pass the time.

"How would you describe your eyes, (Y/N)?" he'll ask between his pencil scribbles. "I see. I'm sure they're beautiful. Why are you suddenly quiet? Have you forgotten how to take a compliment? I'm just messing with you, kiddo."

You haven't witnessed a single fire since coming here, despite the torrid summer heat. Your days are spent hiking without aim and talking to your supervisor.

One morning, you wake up to the grating beep of the radio instead of your alarm. You pick up the small device with an irritated grunt.

"Would you like to meet?"

You need a moment to process the words. Are you finally going to greet the one man who's kept you distant company for weeks? Intriguing. You mumble your agreement, still half-asleep.

As you make your way down the hill, you notice a supply station covered in moss and overgrown vegetation. You check your map, just to be sure. There shouldn't be anything here. What a peculiar thing to stumble upon. You approach the old wooden box and lift the lid carefully.

The musty inside is filled with rows of newspapers and some scattered notes. You pluck one newspaper out, and rest your eyes on the first headline.

"National Park is saying goodbye to its employees. The area will be permanently closed after the devastating fire."

You gawk at the title, then at the photographed location.

It's your watchtower.

You scramble to read the rest of the paragraphs, words slipping behind in your frantic search. This forest has been sealed off for years. You recognize the name of your supervisor in the report: a father of three, loved by everyone, died tragically before a rescue team could reach him.

"Found anything interesting, kiddo?"

You turn around with mild hesitation. Whoever this impersonating maniac is, or what he wants, is rather irrelevant at this point. You're trapped alone with him.

Across from you stands a creature, resembling a chimera more than a human being. Long, grotesque limbs ending in black claws, hollow eyes, and mangled rows of razor-sharp teeth put together in a grin. Monstrous.

You're out of breath.

"That looks great", the creature remarks cheerfully.

"Don't use my voice to talk. It's embarrassing to hear myself like that", you lecture it as you spread out the food onto the picnic blanket.

It switches back to the supervisor's soft, masculine tone.

"Sorry, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable."

The monster extends one bony hand over your head, fanning out the fingers and dragging them across your hair in gentle strokes. What a precious little human you are.

You did not run away. A terrifying thought: losing you after all the time spent together. It didn't want to chase you down and make it even worse for you. But you stayed, you truly did.

"By the way", you say as you bite into your sandwich, stretching out your legs. "Is it you who prevents the fires? Usually it's a common occurrence here, especially in summer."

You recall the scorching flames from the newspaper.

"Yes. To keep you safe, you understand."

"Not only did you lie to me about the job, but you kept me out of work, too", you whine. "I got bored to death! Days on end!"

You're suddenly pushed down into the blanket, and you stare into the spiraling, empty sockets, confused.

"I can entertain you to your heart's desire, (Y/N)."

Its snout widens in a flirty smile, releasing a bizarre succession of clicks. Is it laughing in its natural voice?

You blush.

"I suppose there are some ways..." you suggest cheekily, unbuttoning your shirt.

[More Monsters] | [More Original Works]

[thebestsetter]

First, 1 became 2.

He was used to doing everything alone. Sure, he had friends, but he still felt a little lonely sometimes.

Every day felt more like a chore than something enjoyable: wake up alone, shower, wash his teeth with that blue toothbrush of his, go to school, come back to an empty house.

It was boring. It was dull. It was lonely.

Until he met you. And suddenly, things weren't really a hassle anymore.

He woke up tangled in your arms, your warmth comforting him and making him want to sleep at least 5 minutes more. He showered with you, both scrubbing each other and washing the other's hair (the feeling of you massaging his scalp could never be forgotten). His toothbrush was not alone anymore: your pink one was beside it, as if keeping it company (just like you do with him), and the walk to college and the walk back home were now colorful and fun.

He thought things couldn't get any better. But they could.

After your marriage, in which you two became one, another person came to add to his life.

2 became 3.

Now, he woke up in the middle of the night. Restless, and yet with a large smile on his face. How could he not smile, when he woke up cause he felt your toodler slip right between both of you, just wanting to sleep with their parents after a scary nightmare?

When he went to shower, he saw you scrubbing your kid's hair while singing a gentle song. The sight made him smile while jokingly asking you to do the same for him. You only laughed and splahsed him with water, but he knew (and you did, too) that you would do this if he really asked you to.

There were 3 toothbrushes on the sink now: a blue one, a pink one, and a Paw Patrol one.

Sadly, when he went to work, he had to go alone. But not lonely. No. After he met you, he wasn't lonely anymore.

He came back to a noisy house, with you taking off his tie and a toodler running to him, asking for "daddy" to pick them up.

He couldn't ever get tired of this lifestyle. Even if he had to work hard to provide for all of you, it was worth it in the end.

He couldn't be happier for life's math.

NANAMI KENTO, Gojo Satoru, Choso Kamo, KUROO TETSURO, Suna Rintarou, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, KEI TSUKISHIMA, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, NAGI SEISHIRO, RIN ITOSHI, Sae Itoshi, Barou Shohei + your favs!

Masterlist

[jingyuans-precious]

“my beloved… please pick up, please…” he says as he stares at his phone. your lover had been away on a business trip, much to his dissatisfaction as he had to go days without you.

after a few more rings you finally picked up, turning on the camera so you could see each other.

“hi, love” you say and chuckle as you could practically see him melt. he was grinning ear to ear, delighted that he could finally see you, albeit on a screen, it was truly better than nothing.

“i miss you like crazy, you don’t even know half of it, my beloved. i had boring meetings all day and a sad and lonely dinner all by myself, i didn’t want to dine with my business partners. you were in my mind all day long.” your lover admits with a cute pout, wrapping his blanket around him to mimic your embrace, even if it was not even nearly close to a fraction of your warmth.

your lover paused for a bit to silently admire you before he continued. “what were you up to? did you miss me? did you think as much about me as i did about you?”

“what an onslaught of question, dear” you say with an adorable grin, your lover was truly adorable.

“but yes, i have been thinking about you all day. i’ve been doing my normal stuff as usual.. and looking forward to your return”

he smiles warmly at the mutual feeling of you missing him too. “my beloved, i will be back tomorrow before you know it. the first thing i’ll do is catch up on our missed cuddles. i will be looking forward to it. you better prepare yourself, my love.”

— JING YUAN, AYATO, SYLUS, MARIUS VON HAGEN, Diluc, Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Aventurine, Kaeya + your faves ♡

omg double post on one day, who this?? if you see this, you’re awesome and i wish you a lovely day! :]

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[tonycries]

Exes who…

Synopsis. Showing up to a party looking like that. What's a man to do when he just can't stay away?

Pairing. Multiple x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, desperate boys, unprotected sex, NSFW, cunnilingus, pet names (my girl, babe), swearing.

Word count. 1.0k

A/N. This was supposed to be shorter, sorry lovelies. Art by @_3aem on Twitter.

Exes who know they should stay away, but one whiff of your perfume at some dingy party and he’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom. 

He’s pathetic, he knows, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he spreads you on that bathroom counter and dives face-first into your dripping cunt.

Greedily lapping at your juices, the taste of your pussy on his tongue was so addictive. Fuck, he missed this so much. 

He feels feral. Groaning lowly at the tug of your hand on his hair which hurts so good. He flicks his tongue harshly over your throbbing clit. More. He needs more.

“Hah- Fuck- Feels so good!”

“Yeah, jus’ like that, my girl.”

Making out with your pussy was almost as addictive as fucking you. You were a drug he couldn’t let up - he couldn’t get enough of. 

Nose-deep in your cunt, he tastes you over and over the way he imagined when he fucked his fist on those lonely nights.

Fingers digging into your thighs, he moves your legs so that they wrap around his head, bringing him impossibly closer to your hot core. He breathes over it - teasing - mouth watering at the sight of it getting wetter just for him.

He’s pretty sure your sinful moans and the squelching sounds could be heard above the overplayed pop on the other side of the door. Good, let them hear. It’ll teach that scrub outside that was eyeing you a thing or two about what he can’t have.

“Hngh- Baby, I’m gonna-”

Once you cum around his tongue, hips bucking wildly and clit catching on his nose as you ride his face, he thinks he’d be happy to die here if it was in-between your legs. 

A final peck to your quivering cunt - not a goodbye, no, he’ll be seeing this pretty pussy again - but a prelude for what was to come. 

Amidst heated kisses, he lets you taste yourself on his tongue as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Fucking trousers - they come with too many fucking buttons. He wants to feel you now. Have your wet cunt pulsing around his painfully hard cock as he gets drunk off of your pretty moans.

So he does.

He only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but already feels like he’ll fucking pass out. He teases your entrance - willing himself to wait like he did all these past few months. This won’t be the last time - he knows - but he sure as hell is going to treat it like it is. 

“Tell me what you want, my sweet girl.” he huffs out, eyes boring into your dazed ones. Beautiful. You were always so beautiful.

“Please. I need you in me so bad.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Please, baby.”

Your lustful whimpers are what makes him snap. You were going to be the death of him. 

Fully sheathing himself in you, he fucks your pussy with a merciless cadence that has your nails digging into his shoulder at how painfully good you were stretched. Tight. So tight.

He feels himself losing his sanity as your cunt struggles to adjust to his size, walls clenching down on his throbbing erection. It’s animalistic - the way your pussy tries to suck him back in when he pulls out fully, only to ram inside you again.

“Shit- Pussy made jus’ for me. Only me.” he moans. 

One strong arm steadying himself on the counter, and the other with an almost-painful grip on your hip, he keeps up a pace that has his abs burning. Heavy balls stinging as they smack relentlessly against your ass. 

He bites down on your exposed neck to muffle the strangled groans ripping from his throat at the ethereal feel of your snug cunt - he needs to better drink in your fucked out yelps at his harsh thrusts.

His dick twitches inside when you start whining out his name as you reach closer and closer to your climax. He could do this forever. You were heaven on Earth.

In his hazy mind, he distinctly registers the jingle of the doorknob. Annoying fuckers can’t take a hint.

“Fuck off.” he barks out, “I’m fuckin’ my future wife in here.”

His heart clenches as you push your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Pulling you closer to him in response - strings of slick and precum connecting you to him - he hopes whoever’s there up above strikes him down if he doesn’t wife you up. 

Ah…he’s so close.

There isn’t even a hair’s breadth between your two bodies as he fucks into you mindlessly, not even a trace of thought for the poor soul on the other side of the door. He’s got more important things to do - you.

“Baby- Shit. I’m so close.” your exhausted mewls are music to his ears. His balls tighten and cock aches for release. 

Teeth clenched and brows furrowed at how your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly, he grits out “Me too, my girl. Me too.”

Your legs tighten around his toned waist as your cunt clamps down on his thick length - sending both of you over the edge. 

He sees stars as he cums. Thick ropes painting your walls white and shaky whimpers of your name leaving his mouth like a prayer. You really were heaven on Earth.

Cum drips down the side when he slows down to shallow grinds of his hips, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he pulls his sensitive cock out of you.

With a long finger, he gathers the cum now slowly dripping out of you. Pooling it at his fingertips before popping them into his mouth, half-lidded eyes looking right into your fucked out ones. He moans around them as if tasting a delicacy, elated at the way your mouth drops in disbelief at his lewd act. 

He feels barely lucid as he snaps your panties back on you with a devilish grin and tucks himself back into his trousers. 

Unlocking the door to pointed looks he couldn’t care less about, he can’t keep his eyes off the alluring curve of your hips as you walk away back to the party - pretending like his cum isn’t making a mess of your panties right now. 

Dick twitching to life again, he pulls out his phone - unblocking you once more. 

– GOJO, Choso, Geto, Suna, ATSUMU, KUROO, Oikawa, Sakusa, JEAN, EREN

A/N. …Gimme a min I’m cooking up something for Suguru…

Plagiarism not authorized.

[simpjaes]

FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)

Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.

៸៸៸ minors do not interact! 

៸៸៸ PARING:  park sunghoon x afab reader

៸៸៸WC: 9.3k

៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)

smut tags under cut::​​​

SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy),  face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting,  dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.

 You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday. 

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement. 

Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.

At least that she’s aware of.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas. 

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.

 A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything. 

Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate. 

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.” 

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single.  Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something. 

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?” 

You shrug. 

“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over. 

Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time. 

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do. 

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money. 

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort. 

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week. 

Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too. 

Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite. 

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys. 

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck. 

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.” 

Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you. 

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters.  “Why does that matter?” 

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?” 

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him. 

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.” 

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.

 It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?” 

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head. 

“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.” 

Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises. 

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read. 

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer. 

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.” 

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.” 

Offense taken. 

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle. 

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.” 

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date. 

You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very monotonous, very you.”

Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off. 

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you. 

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.” 

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. 

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps. 

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.” 

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.

 It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him. 

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.” 

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second. 

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you. 

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie. 

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit. 

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts. 

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything. 

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over. 

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him. 

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it. 

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house. 

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant. 

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now. 

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around. 

Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight. 

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own. 

He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag. 

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt. 

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?” 

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story. 

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him. 

Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him. 

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you? 

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night. 

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep.  Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay. 

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did. 

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him. 

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth. 

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night. 

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly. 

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?” 

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face. 

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman. 

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked. 

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you. 

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own. 

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex. 

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying. 

“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything. 

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.” 

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot. 

“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked. 

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly. 

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against. 

Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit. 

“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head. 

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor. 

“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”

This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.

“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.

He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you. 

“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”

“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand. 

“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?” 

You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.

Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.  

And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs. 

He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly. 

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man. 

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight. 

God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type. 

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone. 

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest. 

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement. 

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now. 

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace. 

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk. 

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to. 

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more. 

You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm. 

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already. 

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you. 

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you. 

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless. 

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him. 

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen. 

It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow. 

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused. 

“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”

Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin. 

“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[quarterlifekitty]

I feel that after the first baby, it just further fuels these men's need to breed, so how quickly are they trying to get reader to have another baby/how long does it take to secure Baby 2: The Sequel? Do they use the same methods as the first time or do they switch it up? I imagine they're waiting just until reader is cleared by the doc to start trying again. Sorry if this is weird

Don’t ever apologize for being who you are. It is us freaks that are the cultural backbone of society.

It depends a lot on you! Like, baby one is obviously the hardest sell. Usually if mama liked baby one then baby two is not a hard sell at all if the means are available! But I think they do vary a lot on the in between period.

Uhmmm author’s note now that I finished this: I am so sorry I did you first, Gaz. Because I clearly just got progressively more insane and you suffered from first pancake here. No one look at me I’m ovulating rn

cw: pregnancy. So much baby.

Gaz wants like 1 year of baby one before moving onto baby 2. Enough to get used to things. Then, he will gently broach the baby 2 topic. Starts heavy with the compliments.

“He’s just so perfect. Having a baby with you has been like a dream come true, love. But you know what’s better than one baby?”

Soap is gonna wait til one of the development milestones, either speech or assisted walking. Truly, he wasn’t sure that he even wanted another one, but once your baby starts talking he’s like oh my god. It’s all happening too quickly. Tomorrow I’ll be sending him off to college. I need another one.

“Don’t ye think he’s a bit… lonely, hen? Think he needs a little sibling… Maybe two. And, well, ye dinnae want there to be a middle child, so, four total should do it, right, bonnie?”

Ghost is going for a 4-6 year gap. I think you all underestimate just how much he loves your first baby. Light of his life. Never thought there could be something in this world as beautiful as you. Perfection incarnate. How is it just? That he should be such a bastard for his whole life and get blessed with this? He mourns every moment he misses. Thinks about quitting the service altogether— just to spend more time at home. He never felt the itch to come home from deployment before he met you, and now that there’s the baby too, it’s agonizing. Every photo sent to him from you is equal parts soothing and torturous. Every time he has to leave, he says sternly to his baby, “you’d better not be any bigger when I get back, sweet’art, or you’re in big trouble.” It’s when she starts going off to school, getting dropped off for the whole day, that he’s ready for another. Be just can’t bear the thought of coming home on leave and not having a baby to spend every second with. He’ll cry if he has to drop her off at school every day without another little rugrat in his arms to keep him strong.

“Must be gettin’ bored— little darlin’ off at school all day…Think I’ve got a solution for that, dovie.”

Price is the man that’s waiting for the doctor’s go ahead to start trying for another. He wants one in your belly, one on your hip, and one clutching at your skirts at all times. He wants to be covered in munchkins when he walks through the front door. This man doesn’t just want a family, he wants a clan.

“Just the three of us in this big house…. Seems like a waste, doesn’t it? And I remember that wallpaper you fancied at the shops the other day… perfect for another nursery, don’t you think?”

König is waiting 2-4 years. He is another man who has complete and total reverence for the miracle that is his first child. I like to imagine he felt such giddiness at seeing your baby photos, now that he has his own? It’s nothing short of euphoria. He’s a papoose kind of dad— loves the constant contact. Similar to Soap, he has a complete crisis when his baby takes her first steps. “What if one day, she doesn’t need me anymore? Gott in himmel— it’s all happening too quickly, meine liebe.” So he’s quite eager to have another once you’re both feeling settled and a bit more confident with the first.

“You are a wonderful mother, you know. I knew you would be. I think… we can handle one more, ja?”

Nikolai has a sort of que sera mentality. Whatever will be, will be. Of course he would love a big family, but he won’t be tracking your cycles after the first baby. He’s confident in his virility. Will you go on birth control? No. Will he be pulling out? Also no (mostly. Sometimes a pretty girl needs a pearl necklace). So if you get pregnant again straight away— lovely. If it takes another year or so for things to line up that way, that’s fine too. More time for him to think of names. He’s not a greedy man, he knows that having you in one arm and your baby in another is a wealth most men will not know in their entire lifetimes, and he has a lot of life yet to live.

“A gift that begets more gifts. That’s what you are, malyshka. I’ll not forget that for as long as I live.”

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: yandere, breakup, depression, schemes, manipulation, office au for some reason

can be read as a standalone, but also in compliment to this part 1

fem reader

It’s a funny thing. You’re not really his type.

You dress right for the office—long pencil skirts and buttoned-up shirts—librarian hairstyles and modest makeup. Nothing brazen or flashy or anything at all that garners much attention.

And it’s not like you flirt with him or anything. No, you’re perfectly friendly—funny at times, and nice—covering for him when he runs late, bringing candy for you to share, dishing the new office gossip.

Yeah, you’re his coworker. His work-buddy. Desk-mate. And you don’t try to be anything more—never one to over-share or pry into his personal matters. Your relationship is professional. Nothing more and nothing less. 

But it’s only natural, though, right? For a guy to fantasize about a girl when he sees her as often as he sees you—sitting right next to each other during full office hours, bringing each other coffee and lunch, and talking shit about the boss together. It would be strange not to—to imagine what you’d look like on your back or on your knees, what you sound like, what kind of face you make. And your preferences—if you would make him wear a condom or let him cum inside. If you like it rough or would rather, he lay belly up and let you take charge.

Your face is the one constant thing in his life—of course, he thinks about you as often as he does, in more ways than he'd like.

The thoughts don't concern him much in the beginning. It’s just one of those things the mind humors without your consent—it doesn’t mean anything. And it doesn’t matter much, even if it does. You’d never do any of those things with him anyway—you’re too vanilla, and he’s too much of a player. And besides, you already have a boyfriend.

And it’s not like he doesn’t have girlfriends, too—of course, he does—a new one every other week or so. So it’s not like he’s lonely or in any dire need of you.

No, Gojo doesn’t need you. He could have anyone else, and you’re already taken. No, he doesn't need you... 

Oh, but he wants you.

It becomes one of those things he can’t ignore whether he wants to or not. Fuck, you’re making his bachelor life feel boring. He could be in bed with a model—sounds of her pleasure filling the room, and all he’d be able to think about is you and what type of coffee he should bring you in the morning.

You’re ruining his style. 

He doesn’t know if it’s a tactic to flush you out of his head or a vie to pique your interest or maybe just to spite you for making his life a living hell—but he starts bringing his personal life to work. And by personal life, he means his sexual conquests.

You don’t say much of anything at first. You compliment him on how pretty his girlfriend is, only to be confused once a different girl comes by the next day. You say even less about it, then.

When the third girl comes, you try and make a joke—it’s obvious you feel uncomfortable. But he isn’t sure it’s the reaction he wants. In a way, it seems almost as if you feel sorry for him, which only serves to make him feel even worse.

It’s when your boyfriend comes during your break to take you out to lunch that he feels absolutely worthless. You have this smile on your face he’s never seen before—this glow about you.

Gojo realizes he’s never made any girl look like that, even while making them cum and scream his name. This look is something pure.

It makes him want to strangle your boyfriend to death right in front of you. He can barely muster a smile when you apologize for leaving him to lunch alone.

But in your absence, he musters up a new plan.

Men are fickle things, especially men like your boyfriend—men who’ve been in the same relationship for so long that they’ve all but forgotten the beast within���a dormant beast that's now starved eager to jump at anything that bears its neck.

It’s all too easy. He doesn’t even need to pay the girl to help, she does it all just to please him. Girls are quite disgusting, too, once he comes to think about it—lecherous beings who’ll do anything he says if he promises them he'll stay. He can’t believe he’s had so many of them in his bed—it makes his skin crawl with mites.

You’re nothing like them. You’re genuine. There’s a substance to you—something those whores lack. No, he couldn’t approach you like he would them. You’d only take him for the predator he was. No, for a girl like you to like a guy like him, he’d need to go to insidious means.

The girl approaches your boyfriend on his command—flirts him up, flusters him, makes him dumb—makes him reckless enough to think he can get away with it. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her is probably what he’s thinking as he goes home with a slut that looks nothing like his loving girlfriend.

Oh, but you will know if Gojo wills it. He’s got the pictures to prove all the depraved things your boyfriend got up to behind your back, and he’ll just as easily show them to you.

But no, that won’t break you. Funny enough, if he were to tell you your boyfriend was cheating on you, the heartbreak would be clouded by rage, and you’d break up with him and get back to work. But if you were the one to get dumped. Yes, your poor heart would fall apart and right into his arms. Yes, for a girl like you to want a guy like him, he'd have to make you just as pathetic and desperate.

And so, through his pawn, he blackmails your crappy long-standing boyfriend into breaking up with you with the threat of showing you all the lewd pictures of him getting nasty with a skank in a shoddy motel room.

And it works like a charm.

Your boyfriend does his bidding, and you break.

And the heartache is so palpable it leaves you sick and bedridden. You don’t show up for work for days.

And though it hurts not to see you, Gojo sits well at his desk with a smile on his face, knowing everything is going perfectly according to plan.

Yes, he’ll be a rebound at first, a mistake you make in a drunken sorrow—but soon... you’ll be the cutest office couple in the entire building. He'll make sure of it.

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After Bradley finally breaks things off with his girlfriend just days before the start of a deployment, he expects a few lonely months of nobody writing to him or waiting for his return. But the fateful arrival of a package from a class of fourth graders learning about aviation changes everything.

Warnings: Fluff, language, breakup angst

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley had his duffle bag open on his bed, tidy stacks of his uniform components, flight suits, and underwear lined up next to it. He had his checklist in front of him. He liked to be as organized as possible.

"Are you even listening to me? I thought we were going out to dinner."

He looked up from his partially packed toiletry bag into the annoyed eyes of Vanessa where she stood on the other side of the bed. He was seven months into this relationship, and sometimes he wondered why either of them still bothered. She knew his routine by now. She knew what his deployments were like, but she had absolutely no patience for any of it.

"Ness, I'm leaving in four days. I just need to focus on this for a few minutes so I know what I need to buy before Wednesday, and then we can go out and eat."

"It's already seven o'clock. I thought you'd have finished packing by now," she replied with a pout and a glare. "Every nice restaurant is going to have a long wait now, because I'm just going to go ahead and assume that you didn't make a reservation anywhere."

He took a deep breath and let it out before pressing his lips together. What he really wanted was to order something for delivery, cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and have the first round of hot, goodbye sex. But she'd never go for it now. Apparently he'd already fucked up for the night. 

"No, I didn't make a reservation," he said calmly, and she rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. "I really don't even feel like going out. I'll be gone for months, stuck in a tiny bunk or a loud mess hall. I'd like to stay in tonight where it's quiet. Just me and you."

But she wasn't listening at all. "Let me see if Woodmere has any tables left," she muttered. "If not there, then I can try The Landmark." She looked as beautiful as she always did, but he couldn't even stand the sight of her right now.

"Ness. I want to stay in."

She groaned and looked him in the eye. "Of course you do. You always want to stay in. You always want to decompress or read a book. That's not healthy, you know that, right? I shouldn't have to force you out of your comfort zone all the time."

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. His job was demanding, both mentally and physically. He usually preferred quiet over loud, because his own thoughts started to buzz when she dragged him out all over the place. And now she was glaring at him again. "Are you even going to miss me?" he asked softly, afraid of the answer. "You haven't said so one time since I told you about this deployment."

She heaved a deep and annoyed sigh. "You're deployed so frequently, Bradley, it's like you're the government's bitch. And if the Navy is going to insist upon eating up taxpayer money, the least they could do is pay you more."

His skin started to crawl as she went off about his career like always, but he'd honestly had enough. He raised his voice louder and asked once again, "Are you even going to miss me?"

Vanessa scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Of course I'm going to miss you. What kind of question is that? I'll be bored every weekend, waiting for you to get back, like usual. I almost never go out when you're deployed."

Bradley's heart started to pound in a way that made his palms sweat and his stomach turn. "Jesus, Vanessa. I asked if you're going to miss me. Not miss going out every weekend."

When she hesitated for a beat, he reached out to brace his hand on his headboard. "Yes, Bradley. I am going to miss you. Okay? Happy?"

"Fuck, no. I'm not happy Vanessa." And that was the bottom line right there. The absolute truth. And it didn't hurt to say it, rather he immediately felt better. He knew he would miss the sporadic emails and the phone calls and the dirty pictures and the reunion sex. The upcoming weeks would be harder without those things to look forward to, but at least he'd come home to his own place where he could do what he wanted instead of what he was told. He wouldn't have to listen to her negativity. "I think we need to break up."

Her eyes went wide with shock. "Excuse me?"

Bradley let go of the bed and ran his hand over his face. "You heard me, Ness. This isn't working. For either of us."

"Don't call me Ness," she snapped, immediately turning toward his bedroom door. "You're not my boyfriend anymore." She paused briefly, just long enough to say, "Fuck you," and then she was gone. 

He sat on the edge of his bed for a couple minutes, but it didn't take long to sort through his feelings. The immediate sense of calm that he felt had him convinced he'd done the right thing. There was no shared living space. There was no ring. There was no real commitment. Maybe he'd always known why that was the case. 

So he packed up his bag and made a shopping list, and when his stomach started to growl, he ordered dinner for himself from his favorite restaurant. He didn't cry, and he didn't worry about having to do anything he didn't want to do.

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

The first few weeks of his deployment were great. He spent a lot of time in the air, and he flirted a bit with some of the women who approached him in the gym on the aircraft carrier. He jerked off while he thought about whomever he fucking wanted to. He didn't spend very much time reflecting on his relationship with Vanessa other than to acknowledge that it wasn't much of a relationship at all. In the moments where he thought maybe he missed her, he realized he just missed the idea of having someone who cared about him.

He was about a month in when he realized the attractive woman who always touched his arm in the gym was actually married, and he was not all about that. He was also maybe kind of getting tired of masturbating which was a depressing thought. He was bored, and he was lonely, and other than randomly hooking up with someone, he figured his best bet was finding a book or something to read. 

When he made his way to dinner, he heard everyone talking about the helicopter that had landed on deck less than an hour ago stacked full of containers of mail. There was a line of officers trailing down the hallway adjacent to the mess hall, everyone waiting patiently to pick up parcels from their loved ones. Since Bradley had basically nobody who would think to write to him, he made his way toward the food instead. 

His tray was piled high with everything he could get his hands on, and when he looked for somewhere to sit, he had to deftly avoid that stacked lieutenant who had a husband at home. He found a table off in the corner and devoured his dinner alone. When he stood to drop off his empty dishes and tray, some petty officers entered the cavernous room to drop off unclaimed mail. 

"Harper, Jonathan! Pauley, Vincent! Dixon, Jennifer! Sutter, Wesley! Bradshaw, Bradley!"

He was more than a little intrigued as he made his way up along with a handful of others, and then a white envelope and a small cardboard box were thrust into his hands. The envelope was addressed to him by name in familiar chicken scratch that made him smile. He shouldn't have counted Natasha out, especially when his birthday was in a few days. 

He tore into the envelope as he made his way back to his bunk. It contained a very short letter along with a coupon for buy one get one free steak dinners at her favorite restaurant with a post-it stuck to the back. 

This is your birthday present. Now when you take me out for my birthday when you get home, you only have to pay half as much. You're welcome.

He snorted as he unlocked his bunk door and tossed everything from Nat onto the small nightstand. And then he examined the box. It wasn't addressed to him. Not really. It was addressed to 'A Deployed US Naval Aviator' in tidy handwriting. Then he noticed the return address was from an elementary school in Mira Mesa, and his curiosity got the best of him.

Bradley sat on the edge of his bed and tore gently into the packaging to find the box was jam packed with items and overflowing with envelopes. He tipped the box, and everything went cascading out onto his narrow bed. There were a lot of snacks, and a pack of trail mix caught his eye, making his stomach growl.

"I just fed you," he muttered but ripped into the snack anyway, dumping half of it into his mouth in one go. He was eyeing the envelopes carefully, each one distinctly unique. Some had names written on them, and some had little doodles or pictures, but they definitely seemed to be from a class of kids who went to the school. He sifted through them until he found a slightly larger, more official looking envelope which once again said To: A Deployed US Naval Aviator.

He finished his snack, silently thanking the class of kids and their teacher, and then he opened the big envelope. He pulled out a typed up letter which was folded around a few photos that slid onto his lap. Then he started to read.

Dear United States Naval Aviator,

First of all, thank you for your service. Second, let us introduce ourselves. We are one of the fourth grade classes from Mira Mesa Elementary School, and we have been learning all about aviation for the last month or so. We have combined our science, math and social studies classes into one unit all about flying, and we have learned so much. We really wanted to share some of what we learned with you in the hopes that you might be able to help us learn even more!

Each student in the class has included a letter filled with information and some questions. If you have some free time and are inclined to do so, we would love to hear back from you. (No pressure!) There are plenty of thoughtful questions that my students would appreciate more information about. (Once again, only if you want to!) And I for one would love to give them the chance to show off what they learned to a professional. (I'm just a proud teacher!)

Thank you very much for indulging our curiosity thus far, and we hope to hear back from you. I'll include my email address just in case you have any questions or would prefer to reply that way. Otherwise you can send mail directly to the address for the school along with my name, and it will get to us. We hope we are about to dazzle you with our letters, and we wish you well on your deployment.

Sincerely,

The best fourth graders you will ever meet along with their teacher

Bradley was chuckling as he finished reading. Of course he would take the time to look at all of the notes from the kids and send back a response. It wasn't like he'd be tied up talking to Vanessa. This little project would keep him busy when he had nothing else to do, and besides, this was the kind of shit he would have thought was outlandishly cool when he was a fourth grader himself. 

He read and reread the name and accompanying email address at the bottom of the page. This teacher sounded charming, and he'd only read three paragraphs from her. He flipped the page over to double check that she hadn't written anything more, already wishing she had. Then he picked up the photos that had landed on his thigh and started to flip through them.

First he saw a group of kids outside in the bright San Diego sunlight, lined up and throwing paper airplanes. Then he flipped to one where some of the kids were sitting at their desks building more elaborate planes out of pieces of foam. There was another photo of the class on some sort of field trip, but it was the last photo in the stack that had him sitting up a little taller and taking a closer look.

"Damn."

The kids were all lined up once again, wearing a rainbow of colors, some making silly faces. But his eyes caught on their teacher. On you. Smiling back at him from the photo like you had an amusing secret. Like you wanted to share it with him.

"Fucking gorgeous."

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

And, we're off. Oh, he thinks we are cute. Oh, he is about to be charmed even more. Thanks for pushing me out of my comfort zone a little bit with this one, and thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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