#sugar skull dress

[fridayiminlovemp3]

who here was on agig as a teen???! shout out to the most toxic fandom i was ever in and i’m a former superwholock mlp fandom phandom girlie

[lone-berry0]

ok ok putting aside all of the craziness of these episodes, I just have to say, I LOVE Marinette’s dress?? it’s so pretty. i get why know one is talking about it since there are far more important things to discuss, but why is no one talking about this? The sugar skulls are just *chef’s kiss* 

[loveforvanity]

Dia de los muertos Dress up! 🪞💀🌹🌸 Vanity x Azalea (Sanrio style)

Look how stunning this is! Me and my handsome Vanity….oh….we're gorgeous!! 🍁😘🌹

The red roses symbolize our romantic attraction and the mirror symbolizes life, love, sensitivity, and wisdom.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Medical Emergency

Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.

Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.

It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact. 

It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse. 

Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along. 

So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused. 

He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room. 

“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”

He hadn’t even been told what had happened. 

Then he saw you. 

On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together. 

But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him. 

You looked…like you needed to be comforted. 

Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails. 

Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months. 

“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”

Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper. 

Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”

You just nodded. “Thanks.”

Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off. 

He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital. 

“This way.”

You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat. 

“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”

“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”

Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back. 

Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav. 

By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given. 

Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key. 

Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key. 

So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you. 

Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs. 

“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”

And you did. 

Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window. 

However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay. 

Then you reached for him. 

It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep. 

Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed. 

Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head. 

Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours? 

You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets. 

And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest. 

By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone. 

How could you not tell me you were dating someone?

We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in. 

Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?

Get better soon, honey xoxo

Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered. 

One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks. 

Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?

Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks. 

And you did feel better. 

The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so. 

Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again. 

So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy. 

Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours. 

Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home. 

It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack. 

“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”

You nodded. “Did you cook?”

“How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it. 

“Get off me, I’m fine.”

Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital. 

“What day is it?”

“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup. 

“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”

You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”

“I made it.”

You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”

“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”

“So you did think about it.”

Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”

You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you. 

You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything. 

It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out. 

Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter. 

The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them. 

But Jake had. 

You took the top paper and looked it over. 

“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”. 

You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”

“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”

“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”

You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.

“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”

“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”

Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him. 

“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”

He let your words settle over him. 

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”

You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends. 

“I would have fought them on it but-”

“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”

You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone. 

“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”

“Jake-”

He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”

So you just nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. And eat up, too.”

You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”

“We do.”

“Where?”

“You’ll see.”

Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed. 

“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”

“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”

You laughed a little at that one. 

“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”

He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year. 

So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car. 

“Where are we going?”

He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did. 

But then you forced yourself back to reality. 

This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry. 

But he didn’t leave you. 

In fact, he was the only one to show up. 

And the first to stay. 

You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you. 

“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”

He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”

“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”

He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”

It was a five minute walk to the bottom. 

“Is it usually this empty?”

He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”

“Huh.”

“What?” Jake asked, looking at you. 

You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”

“Well…I’m not.” 

You looked at him. 

“To most people.”

It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade. 

His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime. 

 For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time. 

“Why are you doing this?”

“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him. 

“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”

“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”

“And you don’t believe me?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know you.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”

You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Y/n.”

You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body. 

“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”

Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him. 

“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”

Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him. 

And what did he mean by again?

You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him. 

You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out. 

Worst of all, he caught you. 

You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest. 

“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”

“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out. 

But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“But what about our stuff?”

“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”

Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand. 

And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun. 

You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer. 

Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax. 

So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun. 

And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too. 

“Come and look at this.”

Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him. 

Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Can you stand?”

You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way. 

“What am I looking at?”

It was a starfish. 

The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water. 

By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport. 

A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them. 

“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky. 

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”

“Are you saying…you…like me?”

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”

“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”

“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him. 

Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”

You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”

It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman. 

They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling. 

“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”

Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”

Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake. 

“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”

Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”

Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”

Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”

“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”

“Love is blind, as they say.”

For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart. 

And then they watched as you walked home. 

Together. 

It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other. 

Verbally or otherwise. 

“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”

“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”

“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”

“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”

You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”

“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”

“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”

He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”

Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”

“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”

“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”

You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”

You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”

He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, Sweetheart.”

He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home. 

The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch. 

Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends. 

Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said. 

However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating. 

Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?

It couldn’t be…could it?

And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school. 

It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not. 

Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off. 

Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it. 

Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks. 

It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner. 

Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work. 

Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it. 

Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class. 

“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?” 

Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door. 

“You okay?”

You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside. 

“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”

As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number. 

“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”

“Jake.”

“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”

“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”

Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”

“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”

“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”

You didn’t answer. 

“Y/n.”

“I’m here.”

Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

“Does anyone else know you’re there?”

You explained what happened as best as you could. 

“Just, please get here soon?”

“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”

You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake. 

Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall. 

He stepped inside before crouching down. 

“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”

Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”

“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”

You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”

Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up. 

“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”

You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly. 

Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse. 

By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you. 

“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”

Oh shit. 

“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”

“We’re- We’re not together.”

A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people. 

By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress. 

Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck. 

It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own. 

“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”

“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”

You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”

“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”

You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”

“I’ll stay.”

“A-are you…sure?”

Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”

You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”

You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”

It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year. 

Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him. 

So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up. 

Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep. 

Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom. 

Then he heard you. 

From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you. 

“Hey, everything-”

“Can I stay with you?”

Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”

Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side. 

Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him. 

“Is this okay?”

He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed. 

“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”

In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”

Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other. 

“Good.”

Not too long after that, you both fell asleep. 

And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move. 

If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning. 

And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about. 

“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him. 

“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you…like me.”

Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”

“Jake.”

Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you. 

“Do you trust me?”

You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it. 

“Yes.”

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”

He seemed nervous. 

“Can I kiss you?”

If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl. 

But no. 

He asked. 

And something in your gut jumped. 

So you answered; “Yes.”

Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life. 

You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together. 

Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight. 

No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said. 

Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm. 

“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work. 

“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”

Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm. 

“I’ll meet you here, after work?”

That made you smile. “Okay.”

Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed. 

“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”

With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle. 

“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”

One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him. 

Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags. 

He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head. 

“See you tonight?”

“See you tonight.”

The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you. 

And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 

You smiled. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You’re back.”

You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”

“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”

He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”

“I know, but I needed the distraction.”

Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day. 

“Distraction from what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Nothing, huh?”

At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck. 

“Jake.”

The way you said his name went straight to his dick. 

As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”

Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him. 

“Have you been thinking about me?”

Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”

“Yes,” your voice came out breathy. 

“Is this okay?”

You nodded. 

“I need words, darlin’.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”

As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him. 

And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion. 

You didn’t hate him anymore. 

You hadn’t hated him for a long time. 

All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo- 

The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so. 

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for. 

And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t. 

Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you. 

And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long. 

By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. 

Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest. 

“Good morning.”

“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”

“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”

With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off. 

“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”

He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”

Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite. 

“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”

“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck. 

Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so. 

You laughed. “No it’s not.”

He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”

“How do you know this is yours?”

With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”

Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie. 

A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before. 

J.H.S

“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”

And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”

“Jake…”

“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”

“I want to date you.”

He looked up at you. 

“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”

“I want you around, too.”

“So, yes.”

Jake smiled. “Yes?”

You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”

Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. 

It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked. 

And lost a lot of money. 

But Penny won it all. 

She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.

[chillinglyadventurous]

A Real Treat

“Leave the bowl on the porch,” he said between kisses placed on your shoulder.

Word count: 1,387

Tags: NSFW, MDNI

“Which one of you is going out with the twins?” You called into the living room from the kitchen, dumping candy into the large plastic bowl on the counter. You pulled out a Twix, unwrapping it before popping it into your mouth. “I don’t want what happened on Summerween to repeat itself.”

You could hear Dipper and Mabel shuffling around in the attic, fighting over whether they should be ketchup and mustard or salt and pepper. You laughed when you heard Mabel yell, “Why do we always have to be food?!”

You were kind of glad you weren’t going with them. You’d be up and down all night giving out candy, but the ruby red slippers you were wearing were not conducive to the weather despite hitting mid-calf, so you carried your bowl into the living room to find Ford. He stood by the fish tank and just the sight of him made you laugh. His hair was a mess and the white lab coat he was wearing was splotched in fake blood. Well, you hoped it was fake. He was really leaning into the whole mad scientist thing.

Ford smiled when you came into the room, placing your bowl on the t-Rex skull. “You look beautiful.”

“It was the only women’s costume that didn’t make me look like a slut,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “Why is it that women’s costumes have to be slutty? It's freezing too! Who wants to be wearing basically nothing and freeze all night?”

He kissed your forehead, hand falling to your hip. “I could keep you warm.” His voice in your ear caused a shiver to roll down your spine. That wicked grin faded when Stan and the kids came down the stairs. “Ah, Stanley, what are you supposed to be?”

You clocked the striped suit. Stan’s face was painted white, eyes blacked out. You stepped back from Ford’s hold. “Beetlejuice.”

“Who?” Ford laughed. “Who is Beetlejuice?”

Mabel’s jaw dropped, “If one of you says that again, I’m going to lose it.”

“Beetlejuice!” Dipper shouted.

Stan gave an annoyed huff. “Okay, losers, stop that.” He ruffled ketchup’s and mustard’s hair, “You condiments ready to hit the road? I’ve scoped out the best neighborhood. If we get there early, we have a seventy-five percent greater chance of snaggin’ some full-size candy bars. I’m not playing around with that fun-sized crap this year.”

“Have fun,” you laughed, “and, Stan, please don’t let them eat all of their candy tonight. You’re not the one who has to take care of sick kids in the morning.”

Stan waved you off. “Yeah, yeah, you young people and this health craze. Whatever. What happened to stuffing your face with sugar and no consequences, huh?”

“I’m 30.”

“Yeah,” Stan sputtered, “young.”

“Bye, [Y/N]!” Dipper and Mabel called as the sprinted out the door.

Stan waved over his shoulder. “Have fun handin’ out candy, nerds.”

When the door slammed shut you gave a sigh of relief, thankful that you wouldn’t have to deal with the chaos this time. Summerween had been a nightmare.

You laughed, arms winding around Ford’s neck again. “Why is it that your brother can do math when it comes to money and candy, but nothing else?

He shrugged in response. Your words quickly forgotten. “So,” Ford leaned into your hold, “who is Beetlejuice?”

“It’s a movie,” you said simply. “We can watch it when they get back. It came out in 1988, so you just missed it.”

For the most part, you and Ford took turns handing out candy to the kids who dared to traverse the spooky and dangerous, if you were being honest, maze Stan had set up in the front yard. When you weren’t handing out candy, however, you were draped over your boyfriend who’s six fingers kept trying to sneak their way up the hem of your dress as a slasher film played on screen. His plans were thwarted with each knock on the door.

“You’re turn,” he huffed. He helped you stand, hand grazing up the back of your thigh as you stood.

You could feel his eyes peeling away at your clothes as you walked to the door. It made you blush. You tried to forget the way his teasing hands felt on your legs, the way he did his best to seem sly enough for you not to notice.

You opened the door to see four children dressed as a witch, a fairy, a ghost, and a vampire. “Wow,” you gushed, “you guys look great!”

“Trick or treat!”

You gave them each a large handful of candy. You smiled, hoping your two trick-or-treaters were having just as much fun as the kids sprinted away from the door and into the darkness. Still, you just hoped some candy monster wasn’t stalking Dipper and Mabel. That was a mess.

Two hands taking hold of your waist pulled you out of thought. “Leave the bowl on the porch,” he said between kisses placed on your shoulder. His arms snaked around you as Ford rested his chin on your shoulder. “ His fingers fiddled with the braids in your hair.

“It’s almost 9:00,” you sighed as you pressed back into him. “The kids will be home soon.”

“All the more reason to leave the bowl on the porch.”

He looked so mischievous when you turned around in his arms. Before you could speak, he lifted you off your feet, the door slamming shut. Your legs were tightened around his waist. His face was pressed firmly to your neck, kisses dropped haphazardly as he carried you through the Shack. You thanked the Ford who built this house all those years ago for not putting his bedroom too far from the front door when he dropped you onto the mattress.

“Based on Stan’s plans for the evening,” his voice was gruff as he pushed up the hem on your dress, “we have approximately twenty minutes.”

He didn’t bother to undress himself, sliding your panties down your legs. No time to respond, he hitched your right leg over his shoulder, pinning your left knee to the mattress. “You look good enough to eat,” he chuckled, sliding down your body. “A real treat.”

He disappeared beneath your dress, his tongue on you. You gave a shaking moan. His tongue swirling and dipping inside of you. You sighed his name as you felt two of his digits slip inside of you, hitting that spot with a simple curl. Just as you were teetering on the edge, your name spilling out of your mouth like a prayer, he pulled away. Wet kisses were worked up your whole body.

With a rushed brush of his lips against yours, you felt him push inside of you. Twin gasps escaped the two of you and you loved that sound. Everytime you found yourself with him between your legs, that sound was always your favorite.

He stayed still for a long while, enjoying the feeling of your warmth around his length, the way your walls fluttered around him, how wet you were for him without much effort. “You’re stunning,” he punctuated his words with a deep kiss to your lips.

As his hips rocked into you, you held tight to him. You didn’t care about the sticky fake blood across his lab coat that had begun to coat your thighs. You’d be covered in it by the time this was over, but you couldn’t care less.

“We have to make this quick.” You were already there. Painfully, you waited for that single thrust that would finally make you cum. “Please, Stanford.”

It was hard, upward thrust right into your G-spot and you came undone. He ignored your moans, you begs for him to never stop. He fucked you through it until you were pliable and limp against the sheets. That was when his rhythm falters, a sharp ‘fuck’ falling from his mouth against your cheek.

Neither of you had a chance to catch your breath before you heard Stan grumbling outside. “Why’s the candy bowl outside?” Both you and Ford jumped up. He followed you into the living room, zipping his pants as he went.

“Hey,” you grinned, feigning innocence, “get a good haul?” Ford’s hand found the small of your back, unable to resist touching you.

[iholdwhatican]

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss. 

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste. 

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony. 

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.” 

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump. 

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen. 

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly. 

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.” 

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him. 

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth. 

“What happened out there?” 

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.” 

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen? 

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.” 

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.” 

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen. 

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine. 

That expression was clear, resolute competition. 

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it. 

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it. 

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?” 

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.” 

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.” 

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it. 

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.” 

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.” 

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.” 

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.” 

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him. 

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed. 

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together. 

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter. 

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you. 

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes. 

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party. 

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment. 

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything. 

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused. 

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him. 

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face. 

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing. 

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.” 

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?” 

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.” 

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?” 

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?” 

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.” 

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up. 

“You care about me?” 

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth? 

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.” 

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-” 

“I wanna help.” 

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly. 

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed. 

“How much do you need?” 

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.” 

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping. 

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?” 

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this. 

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.” 

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap? 

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.” 

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.” 

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger. 

“Then tell me what you need.” 

“What do you think I need?” 

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.” 

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?” 

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating. 

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again. 

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?” 

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.” 

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.” 

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling. 

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words. 

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off. 

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs. 

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his. 

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar. 

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please. 

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him. 

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he. 

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss. 

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning. 

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp. 

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his. 

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks. 

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.” 

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut. 

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text. 

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

Taglist: 

@jxssimae

@jackierose902109

@dvrkstxrlightt

@yesimwriting

@1989tvcore 

@kookie29 

@dopeoafslimebanana

@vadergf

@nsyncvinyl 

@ireallydontcareanymorebrooo

@brunettegirl

[blckbarbiedoll]

Is Somebody Gonna Match My Freak? (Wade Wilson x f!black!reader)

CONTAINS NSFW CONTENT (mentions of oral sex, p in v sex, swearing, Wade in general) probably ooc, cheesy nicknames, wrote this in the middle of the night 😭🙏🏾

based on this post by @megantheestallion-ismypresident

word count: 1.2k

Never in a million years did you expect to be dating a mercenary. More specifically, Deadpool himself. And never in a million years did you expect to find a boyfriend that matched your freak (and stamina).

When Wade learned what you did for a living, he didn’t turn away like past lovers. Instead, he embraced your sexual freeness. Encouraged it even.

“That’s fucking awesome.”

“Really? It doesn’t bother you?”

You both laid under the covers in his bed, a thin layer of sweat on your bodies. He passed a freshly lit blunt to you after taking a puff for himself.

“Baby, I literally crack skulls for a living. I’m not in a position to judge anyone’s occupation here.”

“Guys usually run for the hills when I tell them.”

“Girls usually run for the hills when they find out what I do. Not to mention when I take the mask off. And yet, here you are.” He took the blunt from in between your fingers. “So either you really like me, or you’re just as fucked up as I am, peanut.”

“Both?”

“Both sounds about right.” You both chuckled and kissed each other softly, basking in the afterglow of your pleasure.

Although most of the time you would film alone (which you didn’t mind), Wade would join on occasion. And it seemed that whenever he did, your views skyrocketed. Usually, only his fingers or his dick would make an appearance on your channel. Not only was he a mercenary with too many people out looking for him, but he was convinced that his face wouldn’t appeal to your audience.

“Trust me, babe, this ugly mug is the last thing people wanna see when they’re rubbing one out.”

“Really? ‘Cause your face is the first thing that comes to my mind.”

“You and the readers both.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

You and Wade had returned from your weekly date night, which also happened to be one of your filming days. He was about to follow the routine of leaving you to it and going into the living room to wait for you. That was until you called him.

“Wade?”

“Yes, sugar bear?” He stuck his head in the doorway.

“Don’t you wanna join me?” You slowly slipped off the dress that hugged your curves, letting it drop to the floor. The absence of the dress revealed a matching red lace set. “I bought this for you.”

His mouth fell slightly agape at the sight of you. If this was a cartoon, he’d have big heart eyes. “Fuck.” Was all he could say in response.

“Is that a yes?”

“That’s a big fuck yes!” He kicked the door shut as he walked closer to you, lifting his t-shirt off in one swift motion.

“Hold on.” You grabbed your camera and tripod, making sure to set it at the right angle. After checking the video and sound quality, you grabbed Wade’s hand and led him over to the bed.

“Camera’s a little high there. Don’t wanna accidentally catch a glimpse of my face. It’ll crack the lens.”

“Would you stop? You are so fucking hot.”

“Well, that makes one person who thinks so.”

“Babe, I’m serious. I wanna record us for real. And not just one part of you. I wanna be able to look back on a video of us. All of us.”

”It’s that important to you?”

“Yes. And if you really don’t like it, I won’t post it. It’ll be just for us.” You looked up at him with your big brown eyes, practically begging him.

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. “You know I can’t say no to you, chocolate drop.”

“I know.”

“Alright, fine. But you better get my good side.”

And that’s how you found yourself in this position (literally and figuratively). Wade had already eaten you out twice with a blowjob in the middle of each of them. But now, he had you on your back, hips in the air as he ruthlessly thrusted into you.

Almost a hour into recording, you both were in a trance. His large hands held your hips up so he could fuck into you easily. Your leg was thrown over his shoulder, allowing him to hit all the right spots. You gripped onto his toned arms for support, feeling the divets in his skin under your fingers. “So good, baby.” You barely breathed out. He was fucking your brain to mush and he knew it.

“Yeah? You like this dick inside you?” He harshly grunted, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “You like when I fuck you like this for everyone to see?”

Your nails dug into his skin as you threw your head back against the mattress. “Yes.” It was barely even a whisper, but it was all you could say given your current state.

He moved one of his hands up your leg that was rested against his shoulder. He gripped your ankle and pressed soft kisses against it. “You’re so fucking gorgeous. Gonna make me cum just looking at you.”

"Oh my god." You gasped, feeling your orgasm build with each thrust.

He looked between you and the camera before turning your head to look straight at the lens. "Show everyone how good you can take me."

“Wade.” You whined. “Please.”

“Please what, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.”

“Make me cum. Please?”

There goes those eyes again. The ones that could make Wade do anything and everything you wanted. How could he deny his pretty baby?

"Is that it?" He reached down to circle your aching clit with his thumb. "You wanna cum on my dick?"

"Fuck!" You gasped at the feeling. "Yes!"

He lifted your other leg onto his shoulder and bent down to kiss you. He had you folded like a fucking pretzel and you were loving every second of it.

"Holy shit, baby." He groaned. "I'm fucking close."

"Inside me."

"Yeah? You sure?"

"Please? I wanna feel you fill me up."

"Motherfucker." His grip on your hips was getting tighter, and his thrusts got sloppy. "You're close, aren't you?"

"Mhm."

"I know. I can feel you fucking squeezing me."

"Oh, god." You felt your pleasure building in your lower stomach. Wade continued his movements until you finally finished. "Fuck, Wade!"

"That't it, baby. Cum all around my dick."

His breath hitched in his throat as you felt his hot release fill you up. He waited a few moments before gently sliding out of you and falling down onto the mattress.

"Fuck." You sighed. "That was..."

"Really fucking good."

"Yeah. Really fucking good." You leaned over to grab the camera, pausing the recording. "Ready to see?"

"I guess."

He sat up as you played the video. His face went from a grimace to complete awe. Once he saw the both of you and how your bodies moved together, he was done for.

"So?"

"Can you send that to me?"

You laughed and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Of course."

"You should peg me."

"I have pegged you."

"On camera."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah."

"The viewers would love that."

"So would the readers."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't worry about it. Go get the strap."

[yanderemommabean]

ive had a thought about yandere sugar daddy like 👀👀👀 the chaos but also yes pls take care of me hehe

You tell him to fuck off and he keeps coming back. You don’t want his money, you don’t ask for it, that night was just a one night stand but he doesn’t really take your answers unless it’s yes.

He insists. Persists more than anything. You thank him for the gifts and even send some back but he simply won’t back off.

You think maybe if you sleep with him again it’ll get out of his system, so you have an admittedly mind blowing and earth shaking night together, but by morning you suddenly have a few thousand in your bank account and a cheeky smile greeting you when you throw a mug towards him in the kitchen.

“Oh hello! Anyway so about your plans tomorrow- if I pay you now care to cancel them? I’d love to have that time for me and you, business trips over seas get me jittery and you know just how to fix me up”.

“I don’t want your money” you sneer, blanket wrapped around your body as you try and explain this as thoroughly as possible, to get it through his thick skull. “I thought big business men like you would love a no strings attached thing anyway! Look just- stop, stop with the finance and everything. I mean it’s appreciated but not wanted. How am I even supposed to explain this to my tax guys?!?”

All you get in return is a snort, the man just sips from his drink and shakes his head. “Seems I owe Victoria that dinner in Paris” he murmurs “I forget the common folk can’t just pay off any issues. But this is your chance isn’t it? Just a bit of fun between the two of us for a while? “

Something about those words seemed hollow at best. With how hard he worked to break your walls down and get you back in bed, you were sure there was more than just playful fun. No. Those eyes held something more sinister, more dangerous.

“Fine. I’ll give you three months and we’re done. I’m also changing my bank account information and getting a new one entirely” you say as you turn around to get dressed and not look like you went through a bad dry cycle in the laundry room. You were too exhausted to try and think of anything else to say to him anyway.

He just smirks, reaching to pull you a mug down that wasn’t shattered in the sink behind him. His fingers brush over the ceramic as he thinks about when to get a matching pair. Maybe for Christmas? Valentine’s Day? Whichever fits the best.

Oh you’re so cute to think you can set a deadline with him. So precious. No, you dear sweet succulent being, no. You’re his. He isn’t letting you go. If anything, since he finally lured you back, his grip is tighter, more possessive.

He wonders if you’ll like the room he’s planning on building soon. Just for you. Then while you’re with him he can spoil you as he pleases, you don’t get to turn off your phone and ignore him all day then.

He’ll get to lavish you like you deserve. Maybe even spoil himself too if he’s honest, as he has a bit of an addiction to watching you fall apart from his touch and his words. Your eyes just look so pretty when they roll back like that!

-Mommabean (shush I’m not unhinged you are! Totally! I’m sooo not foaming at the mouth for this pshh no way! )

[madamechrissy]

Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- anal sex, p in v sex, smacking, 69, they just freaks fr lol

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap- 9.2k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 11 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

Chapter 12

“Hey baby!” You blink a bit as you feel toned, slender arms, not the beefy ones you’re so used to around you. You gasp, looking up, and seeing Maki’s pretty face grinning at you.

“Maki!” You hug her tightly to you, as you see Satoru and Professor Nanami smiling at you two. “Oh! Mr. Nanami, hello!”

“Hello there. Good morning.” His handsome face has a smirk, as he wears some fancy green sunglasses, in contrast to Satoru’s dark blue Gucci shades. They look like a million bucks while you’re in your damn skull Pjs, making you blush.

“What are you all doing here? I’m so excited to see you, but I’m… I’m in my pajamas.”

“You look cute!” Maki teases as you sit up, flushed.

“You do look cute.” Gojo winks then, planting a kiss on your forehead, your eyes flutter shut. “Ya sore, huh Miss Brat?” His breath tickles your ear, as vivid images of last night fill your mind.

“Shush!” You hiss, hoping no one heard his lewd whisper, and he just chuckles, standing you up and hugging you to him tightly. “I am sore, though.”

“Knew it!” You snort a bit, as he pulls back, tilting your chin up then. “Maki is here to help you pick out a wedding dress. Doesn’t have to be anything crazy, but I want you to still dress up for me, beautiful.” You melt then, looking down shyly.

“Oh she’s gonna look so good, gonna max that credit card, Professor.” Maki teases, grinning as she bounces up. You giggle then, feeling your heart swell as you look up at your fiance’s beautiful face.

“You brought her here for me?”

“Course I did, you’re my baby girl. I knew it would make you happy.” You blink back emotions then, sucking in a breath.

“Thank you, so so much! Let me get dressed!” Nanami and Maki step out, but Gojo lingers with a wide grin. “Out.”

“Oh fine, no fun!” He sticks his tongue out, earning your own tongue, before he lets you get yourself together. You quickly brush your teeth, wash your face and put on a little sundress you have brought over. You step back out into Satoru’s living room and see they’re all sipping on coffee.

Nanami starts to make you a cup as Maki and Satoru are shoving at each other and laughing, making your tummy flutter with how fucking happy you are, despite everything so overwhelming. “How do you take your coffee?”

You look at  Mr.Nanami then, who is smiling softly, illuminating his strong features. “Just cream and a little sugar. You don’t have to!”

“Nonsense. Here you go.” You take it gratefully from him, smiling softly back, looking down at his rather interesting cheetah tie.

“Thank you, Mr. Nanami.”

“I told you, call me Nanami.” You blush a bit, Mr. Nanami always seems so serious and teacher-like, unlike the more casual Suguru and the… Well, your crazy Satoru Gojo.

“Nanami. Thank you for coming. I was worried you’d be so mad at me.” You take a sip nervously, leaning on the counter as Nanami frowns.

“Not at all.”

“But you said be careful, and I fucked that way up!”

“You’re in love, clearly. Both of you.” He looks over at Gojo now, who’s expressively talking, waving his long arms, earning a smile from both you and Nanami as you watch.

“I’m so glad you understand. I know you and Toru are close.”

“Toru, huh.” You just blush again, and Nanami laughs softly, brushing back his sandy blonde hair. “We have known each other forever. He’s an idiot, but he’s a very good person. He’d do anything for you.”

“I know that, and it’s worrying. He’ll ruin his life-”

“No, what would ruin his life is you not in it. Trust me, I’ve had to hear endlessly about you since you met him.”

“What!?”

“Mmm, since that night. I’ve heard in vivid detail.” Now he’s blushing, clearing his throat, and you grimace, covering your face.

“Oh god. I’m sorry, he has such a big mouth.”

“You’re telling me, legs.”

“Hey!” You shove at him playfully, fuck if he wasn’t more buff that Satoru or Suguru, what were these men doing!? He just raises his brows.

“Well they are rather nice.”

“Oh god!” You’re choking on your coffee, earning another soft laugh from Mr. Nanami now. Satoru and Maki come bouncing back over.

“You’re flirting with another professor, Jesus Miss Brat!”

“Fuck off, Toru.” You flip him off, earning him putting down your coffee and snatching you up against him, gripping your chin. “He called me legs!” You whisper, and Gojo raises his brows.

“Told ya.” He winks, so goddamn handsome, you just roll your eyes and laugh softly, as he kisses you, and you taste the sweet cream and sugar on his lips. You sigh and cling to him, pressing against him, his big hand so warm on your back, pulling back to look up at him.

“You’re so sweet to bring Maki, thank you Toru.”

“Of course, anything for you, baby girl.” He kisses you again, brushing your hair back softly. “Now… you pick something beautiful. Shoes and accessories too. And Maki, pick yourself out something pretty to wear.”

“Oh, it’ll be so expensive.” She wiggles a black credit card of Satoru’s, and he snorts at that.

“Anything you want, just make sure she has something as pretty as her, if it’s possible.”

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna puke.” Maki gags, and Nanami chuckles.

“It’s sickening.” He agrees, earning Gojo’s glare.

“Oh pipe down, we’re stinking adorable you know.” Satoru winks as he hugs you tightly. “Anyway, get whatever you girls want. Just because it’s gonna be something small doesn’t mean we shouldn’t look good.”

“Are you and Nanami getting suits?” You ask, and he shakes his head.

“No, I already have a room full, and so does he. We have to deal with some legal boring shit.” You frown at that, and Satoru notices, his full lips pouting, swirling cerulean depths of his eyes, emotional then. “Baby girl, it's fine.”

“I am going to visit some options, that's all.” Nanami assures you. “And… help him pick out wedding rings for you.”

“Oh! Oh my…” Your heart is racing at the thought, as Satoru kisses your ring finger, like he’s thinking it too. “Nothing crazy, please.”

He snorts. “It’ll be huge!”

“It’ll be classy.” Nanami corrects, and you exhale.

“Thank you Nanami.”

“Thank you Nanami. Stop flirting with my friends, brat.”

“Fuck you, Professor Dickhead, am not!” You shove at him, only for him to pull you closer.

“Don’t want a big rock?”

“Not that big…”

“Ha that’s what NO ONE has ever said!” He’s snickering, and you all three roll your eyes.

“Gojo, you’re such an idiot.” Nanami grumbles, earning Gojo’s pout.

“You’re so mean to me, both of you. Maki, defend me here.”

“Well you’re paying for me so… go for it, Professor.”

“Maki!” She laughs at your expression, brushing back her emerald hair.

“I think a big rock sounds good.” She says with a wink behind her black framed glasses, but then she sighs. “But, it’s not really her style. She’s a little more… simple and elegant.”

“Noted.” Nanami says, winking at you with hazel eyes, hands in the pockets of his khaki slacks. Satoru sighs, pulling your back against him, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh fine, I’ll let Nanami help me choose something classy. You get to pick out my wedding band too.” Your tummy clenches at the thought, as you hold his hand and kiss on his fingers.

“Fuck, it’s insane but I’m so excited!?” You admit, earning his soft smile against your neck.

“I’m excited too. Very.” He pulls your ass back against him, and you feel just how excited Satoru is on your back. You’re a blushing mess, all damn morning you have been, as desire hits hard. Would this insane need ever die out the tiniest bit? You don’t think so, and you’d never want it to. “So… we’ll meet up for lunch after we all get what we need done. Sound good?”

You peek up at your fiance, smiling at his pretty face. “Sounds good to me, Fiance.”

He damn near purrs, kissing you and cupping your chin. “Mmm, I like that. But… it’ll be wife soon, won’t it.”

“Gotta use fiance for the few days we can.” He grins, those stark white teeth glinting in the wide open room, the sun pouring in the windows, illuminating all of Satoru’s perfect features. “So we think we could get Satoru back into law?” You ask Nanami then, he sighs, sipping on his coffee carefully.

“We sure will try, Suguru and I have told the school we will quit if they let Satoru and you go. So hopefully, some leverage.” Your mouth drops at that, your heart sinking to your stomach, Satoru holds you gently, brushing his hands down your upper arms up and down.

“You shouldn’t have to do that! You shouldn’t, not for me.” You feel tears threatening to fall, and Nanami puts his cup down then, walking over, patting your head gently like you’re a kid.

“Darling, it’s fine, we can’t stand for this corruption to keep happening, it’s not just in any way, shape or form. It is the right thing to do.” Nanami says, and you can’t stop the little tears that fall, and watch Nanami’s lips part, a sigh escaping his lips. “Don’t cry, please…”

“Please don’t! You make me wanna cry.” Maki says then, snuggling to you, as you sniffle, and Satoru cups your face, swiping your tears.

“It’ll be okay, Nanami and Sugu are well respected, if this school isn’t it, they have a million opportunities.” He says, but you shake your head, as you feel your blood pressure rising, making your hands numb, you shake them, feeling so hot now.

“I can’t live with myself hurting so many people. You and your friends.” He swipes at the tears that keep falling, bending low and kissing your head.

“You haven’t hurt anyone. My shit parents, with their money in everyone’s fucking pockets are hurting you. Nanami and Sugu give us leverage, it will all work out. Don’t worry so much.” You sigh, nodding a bit, trying to compose yourself. “We will all be fine, promise. Let us work on our end, you two have a fun day and pick pretty outfits, mmkay?”

“Okay. We will. Promise.” Satoru hugs you tightly, pulling back and tilting your chin up.

“Lemme see a smile, pretty girl.” You manage a small one, and he exhales, kissing your lips gently, pressing them upon yours, over and over, little smacks and pops, and a ‘mwah’ sound, until you’re giggling. “There it is! Pretty smile.”

“Thank you, thanks all of you.” You say, as Satoru pops kisses on your cheeks, all sticky from your tears.

“Now, my driver will take you all to wherever you need to go. I’ll text you when we’re done. Go have some fun, please…” His voice is serious, his jaw clenched just a bit as he speaks. “For me. Have some fun, lord knows you’ve had enough going on to make you…”

“Marrying you makes me stupidly happy. It makes me forget everything bad that’s happened.” He exhales then, and you could tell it’s worrying him, you put two hands on his pretty face, tiptoeing and kissing his chin. “Promise.”

“Well who wouldn’t be happy? I’m Satoru Gojo.” He’s shameless, wiggling his brows with a grin.

“Oh god.” Nanami grumbles, along with Maki, making you giggle. “Let’s head out, we have a lot to do.”

“Bye Shnookums, see you soon.” Satoru whispers, helping you into the back of a sleek black car. “Maki take care of my girl.”

“Our girl, Professor.” Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes, and then Maki scooches to you, big grin on her face now. “You got the richest husband, he said a 10k limit A DAY, bitch!!!”

“Maki, you’re so crazy.” You roll your eyes with a laugh. “I am so glad you’re here, where’s Yuta?”

“Sulking he can’t go wedding dress shopping with us. That boy! Sometimes he can’t let us have girl time.”

“He just loves us, is all.”

“I know. But I wanted time with you before… fuck, you were really trying to leave me, huh?” She tears up a bit, so rare for her, looking away, and you feel horrible, guilt gnawing at you.

“He told you?” You ask softly, and she looks back, more composed, nodding. “Fuck I’m sorry, Maki. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You can’t leave me, okay? We promised, we’d always be friends.” She holds out her pinky, and you enwrap yours with hers, feeling those tears again.

“We always will be. I was scared, for Toru, for everyone, fuck his parents are horrible Maki… like I’d take another foster home.”

“I heard. Shit, that man loves you, you know that? He’s obsessed with you, like it’s intense.”

“I know. I am too, I think Satoru shows it more.” You pull her in for a hug then, squeezing her body tight. “Maki, I will never leave. I’ll face the shit dead on.”

“That’s my girl. Now, let’s stop this sappy shit, and spend your man’s money.” You both giggle as you head on what feels like such an adventure, and for once there is so much hope in your heart, despite all the challenges. Being with your best friend planning a wedding to the man you adore.

You and Maki are sipping mimosas in this stupidly fancy bridal boutique about an hour later, as you’re trying on different dresses, they’re all so beautiful, but some seem so extravagant for the little wedding you all are having. Fuck this insane, right, that you’re getting married!? You figured engagement would be enough to scare his parents, but Satoru wanted this.

He wants to marry you.

And fuck, you want to marry him. So badly, even if it’s way too fast, even if you both have lost your minds, even if the world is falling apart all around you both, it’s as if nothing matters when you’re in his arms. Shit, if you say it out loud it’s so wild, like some movie you’d make fun of with Maki and Yuta, of that deep love that surpasses everything, but it is your life.

Satoru Gojo has surely become the very air you breathe.

You’re in one of the more simple gowns now, after Maki and the ladies there had given you so many insane gowns, glittering and so beautiful, with flouncing skirts, ones that made you look like a queen. Some were bright white, some cream, Maki had even had a black dress that made you look like some Victorian goth dream. You loved all of them but…

This one? It’s a gorgeous white silk at the top, with intricate little beading at the bodice that glitters under the dressing room lights, and it’s cinched at the waist, but flows softly down to your toes, with soft tulle, lacy little silver roses peppering it like little stars in the sky. The sleeves are off shoulder, and it makes your breasts press up high, makes your waist so teeny, the perfect silhouette.

It’s so beautiful, as you turn this way and that in the mirror, feeling it all start to hit you then, that you’re doing this, that you’re marrying this amazing, crazy man, that you love him so much it’s like your heart is going to burst out of your chest, it’s so full. You step out of the changing room, and Maki’s eyes light up, and she gasps.

“Oh my god, you look so fucking stunning!” She runs to you, hugging you tight, her eyes wide with happiness, before stepping back and looking you up and down. “You look like a fucking angel.”

You sniffle a bit, smiling, looking down at the dress, your heart racing, your palms sweaty. “Really, you think so?”

“Yes, really! Gojo is gonna lose his shit when he sees this, gonna be like one of those looney toons with the heart eyes.” You laugh at the images in your head, of some cartoon Gojo with his tongue hanging out, as Maki holds your arms out. “Damn, this body looks fire!”

“I love you, Maki, I swear to god I do.” You do a little spin then, as the attendants come up.

“You look so beautiful!” One says.

“The prettiest bride, so elegant!” The other says,

“Oh thank you, ladies. I think I have to take this one.”

“We will need some shoes, a veil, all that though.” Maki says, and you hum a bit thinking of a veil. “Or a tiara? Like a whole princess.”

“Maybe a small tiara?” You now have the dress in its clothing bag, along with glittery white low heels and a delicate little tiara. “Now, you Maki!”

You both decide on a gorgeous blue dress for her, that makes the toned curves of her body look so beautiful, hugging them. You gasp, bouncing up and down, as the attendants smile at you two.” What do you think!?”

 “Maki, you’re so fucking hot!”

“Thank you baby, gotta look good for you.” You kiss each other’s cheeks, hugging tightly, slightly buzzed and silly from the drinks and the excitement.

“You look so beautiful, oh god I better be the maid of honor at your wedding!” You are hugging her tightly, both of you swirling as if you’re dancing now.

“Too soon to think of that, babe, I’ll leave you and Gojo to the epic love, Yuta and I have all the time.” She says, and you sigh, biting your lip, brows together. “Shit, was that…”

“No, Maki, it’s true. We’re crazy for this. Wedding as protection or a tactic, I know it’s… not how I thought it would go.”

“But you’d marry him anyway, any time. Yeah?”

“I would. Fuck probably that night at the club.” You whisper, so flushed, and she grins at that.

“He’s that good with that tongue huh?”

“Maki!”

Having secured dresses and shoes, it’s now time to get jewelry for you both, and you all run right into Satoru and Nanami. You giddily run up to Satoru, who hugs you tightly, kissing you so sweet, as you inhale that expensive cologne you love so much. “Toru! You’re here!”

“I am, I just got done picking the ring out. Oooh, and I got you something for this bracelet.” He takes your wrist, and as always you’re just a little shaky when he takes it off, making him smile a bit, snowy white lashes lowering over his blue eyes. “You’ll get it right back, Miss Brat.”

“I know. I get weird about it.” He chuckles a bit, as Nanami and Maki are talking, and she’s looking for accessories for you both with him.

“I hope you’ll keep that ring on just as much.”

“Of course, I’ll never take it off Satoru.” He blinks a bit, lips parting, as he unclasps your bracelet carefully, then he grabs a little white box.

“Better not. I’ll have to reprimand you.” You snort at that, rolling your eyes, he’s trying to lighten the mood, ease the tension as he always does, but you know he truly wants to make sure you want this. He pops out another bead and a charm, and you melt when you see it.

“Toru… it’s a little wedding ring charm!” He slides it on your bracelet, which is slowly filling up as you are with him, like little mementos of your relationship so far. It’s a pretty gold miniature ring with a diamond at the top, dangling off the bracelet, as he slides a pretty blue bead next to it, clipping it back on your wrist. “I love it so much, it’s so perfect.”

“You get so excited about beads, just wait how much I’ll give you, now that you’re mine.” His husky words, his intense stare, makes you weak, your tummy doing insane flips as your hands meet each other at the palms, pressing together, his fingers more than twice of yours and your little hand, making you feel so safe as they entwine.

“You gonna spoil me, hmm Daddy Toru?” You tease, whispering against his lips, eliciting a soft moan, his eyes shutting for a moment, his free hand slipping down your hip.

“Don’t do that here, I swear I’ll find somewhere to fuck you right now.” You just giggle and he glares. “Teasing me, huh brat? Let’s see how well that will work.”

“I can’t wait for the punishment.” You stick out your tongue through your teeth, and he rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too. “Satoru, even though it’s insane, I can’t help but be so happy, like…”

“Me too.” You both kiss softly again. “Now, you have a ring to pick out for me, selfish brat.”

“Hey!”

Soon the four of you have all sorts of goodies, Nanami has bought himself a new gold watch, Maki has a pretty blue necklace, and you have delicate accessories for your pretty dress. You now also have picked the perfect ring for Satoru, which you make sure he does not see, a white gold band decked with five brilliant sapphires, which sits on your little finger.

You picture it on his hand, on those long fingers, those big knuckles of his, then you picture… lewd things. Of your pussy dripping down onto his ring, and you hurriedly put it in a box for purchase, hating that just something so simple makes you lose your mind. You can’t stop thinking of this sexy ass, conceited little shit, who grins over at Nanami and Maki as he’s making some dumb joke.

He’s running a hand through his snowy white hair, that dark blue suit looking like a million bucks on him, and you can’t help but be enthralled for a moment. He looks to you, a hand in his pocket, grinning now, such affection and love in his gaze it makes your heart ache, as you think, you could have lost him. And how could you ever live without him now?

“You got it picked out, Shnookums?” He asks, and you snap out of it, nodding and thanking the salesperson for it.

“When do we give them to each other?” You ask then, so excited to see what Satoru thinks, as you snuggle to his side, and he is swiping his card now.

“You’ll get the engagement ring tonight, I want it prominent on your finger for meeting with… them… tomorrow, ugh. But, the bands, not till the ceremony. Thank you guys!” He waves at the team he’d just given so much money and commission too, and you can’t help but smile as he takes your hand in his now. “Let’s eat, brats.”

“Don’t call me a brat, Satoru Gojo. I swear.” Nanami says with a grumble, and Satoru wraps an arm around the man, making him give a disgusted look.

“Aw you love me, buddy don’t lie.” Satoru kisses his cheek, making Nanami shove him off and wipe his cheek.

“Disgusting. Don’t you two laugh, you’ll encourage this behavior.”

“Holy fuck, today was insane.” You and Satoru are now home, and as you speak he cuts you off, picking you up in his arms, and you cling to him.

“You’re almost my bride. Gotta carry you in right.” He walks into his house now, and carries you right in, bridal style, you pull his head down for a kiss, and he moans into your mouth as he shuts the door behind you both. “Mmm, you always taste so yummy.”

“You taste yummy.” He’s easing you down, but he’s pressing your back against the door now, hands on either side of you, head low so that your foreheads are pressed together.

“Fuck, I love you. Have I said it today?”

“No, you mean man.” You pout, batting your lashes, and he pouts now too, thin white brows drawing together, as your hands slide up the hard planes of his strong chest. “You make me so sad when you don’t.”

“Oh no, baby girl… I’ll make this up to you.” He kisses down the side of your face, his big hands taking over your waist, pulling you against his hard body, and you feel yourself react. Your nipples tighten under the thin layer of your dress, which he’s pulling up, bunching it around your thighs.

“Toru!” You cry out then, and he hums, kissing your neck now, biting it with those sharp teeth, sending pain and pleasure in equal amounts through your body. “T-Toru… mmm…”

“How do you want me to make it up, pretty girl?” He whispers against the shell of your ear, tickling and intriguing you like crazy, you cling to that expensive baby blue dress shirt tightly, hands in fists.

“Mmm, I don’t know… maybe on your knees?” He chuckles then, as he kisses you once more, cupping your face now.

“You’re so slutty, you know, just for me.” You giggle, nipping on his lip, earning his moan then. “But… what about one knee for now?”

“One knee… however you wanna lick, I won’t complain.” He’s on one knee then, and you’re smiling down as he looks up at you, but then you falter when you guess his meaning, and you can’t breathe. “Oh! Oh… Oh!”

“You’re thinking slutty, I am thinking romantic. Tsk Tsk.” You’re a blushing mess now, as he takes your hand, kissing it now, and your chest is heaving, when he’s pulling out the little velvet box from his pocket.

“Toru, you don’t have to! I know this isn’t… traditional, and it’s last minute, we don’t have to-”

“Will you shush, brat?” You bite your lip hard, nodding then, and he’s laughing, shaking his head. “Let a man have his moment. Now…” He says your name softly, and you can barely hold it together, Satoru Gojo on one knee was nothing you thought would happen, and he looks too perfect, better than any Disney Prince could. No, this was Satoru Gojo.

“Y-yes!” He snorts now, and you cover your face.

“You suck at this, I didn’t ask yet.”

“I can’t take it, it’s killing me. Oh my god. I’m freaking, Toru.” He kisses your hand again as you struggle to stay still, thighs shifting.

“Take a breath, my knee hurts. I’m old.” You laugh once more, though tears are already burning the back of your eyes. He says your name once more, and you’re damn close to hyperventilating from that alone. “Would you… make me the happiest man, the luckiest man, in this whole fucking world? And be my wife? Be my forever?”

“Satoru oh my god.” You are on your knees now, and he’s blinking back his own emotions.

“You get back up there, fuck you suck at this.” You kiss him though, and he moans, pulling you against him, until you’ve knocked him over, and you’re on top of him on the floor. “You haven’t even seen the ring!”

“I don’t need to. Just need my Toru.” He moans softly, as you kiss each other, and soon you’re straddling him right on the floor of his entry way, and he hisses, pressing his length against you, as he holds your hips up.

“Lemme show you this ring, before you jump on this dick, hmm?”

“I’m so wet…”

“Fuck me.” He sits up now, pulling you against him, grinding on your already soaked little panties, as you kiss him again, tongues and teeth and lips, noses bumping, as you both devour each other, pressing against one another.

“You look so hot on one knee, Professor.” You tease then, and his hands are gripping you even tighter, the box still in one of them. “Okay, let me calm down…”

“Please do, about to get railed before you get a ring, how scandalous.” You just hand him your fingers, shaky as you lean back, and he sits up fully, you’re still straddling him, and his tie is askew, you’re both trembling messes. Satoru then opens the box with a little click, and words are stuck in your throat. “Will you marry me, all officially, my pretty, slutty little brat?” He asks with a laugh, but his hands shake like yours.

The ring…

Fuck it’s beautiful.

It’s a delicate white gold band, with the prettiest marquis diamond in the center, it’s a good size but nowhere near gaudy, elegant and timeless. There are pave stones above and below it, tiny little sparkly diamonds that enhance the marquis, that glitters so prismatically, as pretty as Satoru’s eyes do, well… almost. Nothing really glittered like those.

“Satoru… oh my god, it’s breathtaking. Oh god.” He takes your hand, sliding the ring up there, and it fits perfectly, just a little snug almost.

“I want it snug so you don’t lose it, so I went a little small.” He admits, eyes drinking you in as he looks up at you, your hand in his.

“It’s perfect. It’s so perfect, my goodness. I fucking love it.” You smash your lips on his again, wrapping your arms around his neck, hands enwrapping in his silky hair, as the box drops with a click, and he’s running his hands up your back. “It’s perfect, it’s so perfect. Oh, Toru.”

“I’m so happy you like it, I’d have gone so much bigger, but Nanami talked me down some.” You look at it, as it sparkles under the ceiling lights of Satoru’s home, your home, tear drops pooling on your lashes. “Nanami was singing your praises, I’m jealous all my friends want my girl.”

“Oh stop, they do not! Silly.” You are pulled even further against him, now he’s looking up at you, and you see his smirk. “Well, I only want you if so, even if your friends are really hot.”

“That’s it.” He picks you up again, and throws you over his shoulder, you squeak, smacking and kicking at him, but he just laughs, smacking your ass hard. “I need to teach you a lesson, fiance.”

“Put me down! I hate it up here!” He’s taking you straight to his room, and plops you down on his bed, you bounce just a bit before he’s flipped you around.

“Hands and knees, brat.” His husky tone sends shivers down your spine, as his deft hands untie the little straps of your dress.

“Fuck… I thought you were in a romantic mood?” You murmur, looking back as he slips the dress up off your body, leaving you just in lacy panties. He sucks in a breath then, gripping the fat of your ass with his big hands.

“I can romantically do this.” He smacks you firmly with his palm, not too hard, just enough to have your pussy dripping. “My fiance is so bad today, after all I got her, and she’s still acting up?” He smacks you again.

“I love it all, promise. Mmm!” Satoru smacks you even harder, pulling your hair with his other hand, right at the base of your neck, shooting pleasure to your core, making you soak your panties even more. “I will be good, swear.”

“Mmm, you say that… but I don’t believe you.” He smacks your pussy then, and you jerk, sucking in a breath at the sting.

“Fuck!”

“You need to be a good little wife for me. Maybe I’ll just put babies in you, keep you in line, huh?”

“Misogynistic- ah!”

“What’s that? Can’t hear you.” He smacks you twice more, and fuck it feels so good, your legs shake violently as you’re soaked through, dripping past the sticky fabric to your inner thighs.

“That sounds… good, it sounds good.” You whisper instead, as vivid images fill both of your minds.

“Does it, having all my babies? You can dust the house you know.”

“Dust the house!”

“Mmm, I’ll still have cleaners, but I wanna watch you with a feather duster, some slutty maid outfit. Fuck.” You giggle, but it turns into a yelp as he smacks you on the backs of your thighs.

“Something funny, brat?”

“N-no, no Sir. It sounds… it sounds good. I’ll clean for you.”

“Will you? Hmm.” Satoru slides your panties down your already sore backside, and the cool air hits your throbbing cunt, and you flip then, on your knees, yanking him by his tie, throwing him off.

“Fuck me, please, please. Need you Toru.” You whisper, so pleadingly, and he moans then, as you shakily unbutton his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders, drinking in his beautiful, toned body. You run your fingers down his abdomen, watching him tremble under your touch. “Beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful, you, baby.” Satoru says, as you’re unbuckling his belt, and you slide down his boxers eagerly, moaning softly as you see him, so hard. You flick your tongue on his weeping pink tip, swollen, pearls of precum oozing out of the little hole, tasting him as he groans.

“Yummy.” You whisper, looking up at him now, hand wrapped around the base of his cock, your ring glinting as you stroke him. “Look how pretty it looks, with my hand wrapped-ah!” Satoru has you on top of him again, and you’re straddling his chest, whiplash with how quickly he’s spun you. “Toru!”

“Sit on my face, please… fuck, please.” He begs now, and you’re blushing, so nervous, as he’s pulling at your thighs.

“I wanna suck you!”

“You can do that too. Here.” He flips you around, dragging you by your hips, so that your mouth is aligned to his cock, your hair falling like a soft curtain down the side of your face, and you kiss his tip again, as you feel his breath on you. “Mmmn, want you to drip down my face.”

“But what if you… can’t breathe!? If I sit on you!” You whine, but he just pulls you down further, flicking a tongue up your slit.

“Oh baby if I gotta go, this is how I wanna die.” You brace yourself on the bed, your breasts against his abdomen, as his laugh makes you twitch, while he’s spreading your lips, tongue sliding deeper.

“Toru! Oh my God…” You’re dripping down Satoru’s face, bracing yourself up with one arm, as the other strokes his cock, and you flick your tongue on the underside of the ridge of his cock.

“I want my fiance to cum all over my face. Can you, baby?” He asks, and you nod then, earning his deep chuckle. “Then c’mere.”

He shoves your ass down, so you’re flush on him, and your mouth wraps around his cock, tongue swirling, as you moan. He’s so fucking thick and long, it’s always such a challenge, but you manage to get most of him in, his hands gripping the back of your thighs, and he’s bucking up, hips moving up and down, fucking your face as you whine around him.

Your saliva and drool slip down his length, down his balls, as you scream out your pleasure, and his tongue is working you over, so good, so fast, you can feel the pressure building up in your stomach. Satoru’s flicking the underside of your clit with quick strokes, as your eyes roll back, and you’re stroking him harder, faster, with your little hand.

“Fuck… y’feel so good, your throat baby.” He whispers, as he’s licking up all of your arousal that’s drooling out of your cunt, swirling around your clit, making you see stars.

“Oh god, Toru, oh god!” You’re close now, and he’s smirking against your pussy, you can feel it, as his fingers dig into the plush of your thighs.

“Want you to cum on me, lemme feel you pretty.” He smacks a kiss on there again, and you’re sucking harder now, you can feel his precum coating your mouth, and your tongue slathers over it, earning the softest whimper from Satoru Gojo’s pretty pink lips.

Now Satoru is groaning loudly, his tongue pushing into your hole, his chin pressing into your clit, and you’re just a puddle on his face, as your orgasm hits you like a truck. You scream around his cock, body spasming, as your cum leaks out, down his chin, and his eyes are closed, a smug expression on his face.

“Toru! Fuck!” You helplessly bury your head right next to his cock, as you cum so hard you can’t function, rocking through you in waves, as you’re soaking his face, and he’s lapping it up so hungry, making you feel so good it’s blinding.

“Good girl, you got so wet for me.” He says softly, and you whine out, nails digging into his strong thighs, your ass jerking as he smacks it, nipping it with his teeth playfully. “Niagra.”

“Hush!” You laugh, breathy now, as you try to suck him again, your arms are so weak and wobbly you can barely hold on to him to support yourself.

“Wetter than anyone, sweeter than anyone.” His words against your sensitive clit drive you insane. “Wanna ride me like this?”

“Um… yes? Yes.” He chuckles, and soon you’re straddling him your slick heat pressed against his length, and he’s pulling your by your hips, grinding your twitchy clit and your slit, making him groan, his grip so tight.

“Get up on your knees and put him in, baby.” You nervously do as he commands, as your fiance, professor (former!?), your Toru says. You take him by the base, and sink down on him, head thrown back at the stretch, feeling his thick tip gently press into your hole. “Oh fuck…”

“Toru! M’so weak…” He takes your hips in his hands again, pressing up and pushing you down, and he feels so fucking good, cock dragging your walls, that flutter around him, soaking him down to his thighs. “Ah! Ah… ah!”

“That’s it, good girl. S’good for me…” He urges you on, and you’re rolling your hips tentatively, raising up then sinking down, as one of his hands pulls on your hair, making your back arch. “There, baby, there. Just like that, you’re so good… s’good… mmm…”

His words are turned into breathy cries, as are yours, as you begin to ride him now, and fuck that view is killing him, as he watches your ass bouncing, your eager pussy taking his cock, making it dissappear. You’re pulsing around his cock then, as he presses in that cervix, you’re so tight he has to struggle not to cum, to bust right then and there.

You make him so sensitive it’s embarrassing, you feel so good he always has to mentally stop himself from busting. Sure, he can get hard again, but he wants to watch you cum as much as he can. His hands slide up your little jut of your waist, thumbs pressing into those dimples of your back, as he guides you up and down. And soon you’re doing it all on your own.

And fuck you’re doing good.

“Like this, Toru?” You whisper, rolling your hips then, grinding his tip on that cervix, and Satoru moans, biting his lips, cheeks flushing as you course pleasure through his veins.

“Just like that, baby, perfect.” At his praise you rock again, as you brace one hand on his thigh, bouncing up and down again, screaming out, as he pushes you forward, bringing you in the reverse cowgirl, he’s been fucking dreaming of with you. “Take what you want from me. Cum as much as you want.”

You whimper, fuck those sounds are so sexy, he can’t believe he’s lucky enough to hear them from your pretty lips forever. You balance yourself on the bed, raising your hips as he grips that perfect little ass, and he watches you pump up and down, soaking him so much, it’s dripping wet all over his stomach. You’re burying your head against one of his thighs, screaming out, shaking.

Satoru watches a creamy ring form on the base of his cock now, as you’re snapping your hips up and down, and he feels it, those walls tightening, and he knows you’re close. He slips a thumb in his mouth, pressing it right in that puckered little hole, and you cum right then, twitching thighs squeezing his hips as you do, as you make a mess of you both.

“Mmm, that’s it, cum all over my cock.”

“It’s s’good.. Toru… fuck!” You’re shaking with those aftershocks, as he presses deeper into your tight hole, and you’re so weak, limp. “I suck… c-can’t move.”

He laughs softly, you’re so cute. “Want me to take over?”

“Please, please.”

Satoru will do anything for you, especially pound your perfect little cunt, or any hole you want him in. He taps your ass gently, and you move a bit, as he gets to his knees, and puts a pillow under your pelvis, bringing you up to him better. You look back, your gorgeous eyes glazed over, dilated and cock drunk, fuck Satoru loves you like this, with drool down the side of your face.

He shoves his cock back in your entrance, watching your knuckles go white as you cling to his blankets, and fuck your ass looks so good like this, like some cute little heart he thinks. Got what isn’t adorable about you, from your sweet little whimpers, to your pretty face when it gets so fucked out, when those eyes roll back and your mouth goes slack.

When his cum pours out of your hole, and he thinks how cute you’ll be when you’re pregnant. Fuck no matter the day he had, which was a stressful morning, the love he has eclipses it all. He can be himself with you, he never has to pretend, he can love you so desperate and you match his energy, you are everything.

His hand slips down your spine, slowly brushing, he knows your skin gets so sensitive after sex and he loves to tease you. He gently smacks each ass cheek, covered in his red handprints, before pumping his cock hard in you, tip dragging along those little gummy walls, with clutch so tightly. You’re cumming again, head falling back, hair spreading down your back.

He pulls you by your hair just how you like, fuck he loves knowing your body, what makes you tick, what makes you lose it, he brings you up to your knees, cupping your chin delicately, and your glazed over eyes meet his. Your lips part, as your little hands cling to his wrist, as his hand cups you around your pretty little throat, his thumb feeling your pulse flutter.

“You’re mine, only mine, forever… aren’t you baby?” He asks, and yes, he’s desperate to hear it, to feel it, to know you’ll never leave him. You nod eagerly, tears in your glittery eyes.

Fuck you’re gorgeous crying.

“I’m yours, Toru, only yours.” You whisper, your voice hoarse from screaming out, from taking him down that tight throat. The muscles in your thighs tighten and contract as he presses up deep in your cunt, and your eyes threaten to roll back again. “Love you, love you, love you.”

Fuck.

Those words kill him, he feels his own emotion threaten, slamming his lips down on yours, so you wouldn’t see his tears, but you feel them, as your hips rock, and he wraps an arm around your waist. He finds your little pearl, twitching under his touch, as you soak his fingers now. He watches your ring glitter on your finger as you cling to him, as your head falls back against his chest.

“Toru! Toru!” You’re whining as he squeezes your throat, as he plays your clit, as you’re drenching every goddamn part of him, and fuck he loves it, fuck he loves you.

“Love you, baby, fuck I love you.” You’re crying more, tears running down the apples of your cheeks, all flushed from your exertions, and Satoru gets to do his favorite thing, watch his pretty, smart little law student fall apart.

Fuck this man has your every button pressed, it’s like he is a musician and knows every string, every pressure, every note, as he makes you cum blindingly, while squeezing your throat. You can’t see, it’s all fuzzy like you’re floating, as you silently cry out, losing oxygen and inhaling Satoru, as he becomes anything and everything, the air, the energy, consuming your body.

Exhausted from this orgasm, you weakly fall back, greedily sucking in several breaths when his long fingers let you go. You try to rock your hips again, and he slips out, making you cry out at the emptiness. He kisses down your neck, slipping his cock up and down your folds again, pressing your ass and slipping the tip in, and you moan at the stretch.

“Toru… that’s my…”

“Oh, I know. Fuck. You wanna try, baby?” You tremble, nodding shyly, and he smiles against your neck. “You’re the cutest.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask, and he shakes his head, spreading your ass cheeks further apart now.

“You’ll love it, I can tell. Here, suck on these for me.” He pops two fingers in your mouth now, and you spit all over them, swirling your tongue, as you feel his breath hot on your cheek. “You’re such a good girl.”

“Mmm.” You just whine out again, and then gasp when he’s pressing them inside your little hole, burning and stretching so good.

“Play with your clit for me, mmm, just like that. You know, like when you used to think of me.” He whispers, blowing the hair by your ear, as he pumps his fingers inside you, then his cock is back there, pressing, as you’re both on your knees. He wraps an arm around your waist as he presses inside, and he’s stretching you so much you can hardly take it.

Your hand slips off your clit, only for him to replace it, sliding deeper, kissing down your neck and biting. “Oh my… fuck… you’re too big!”

“Nah, you got this baby. Don’t you?” You are shivering in his grip as he presses in deeper, so deep, as he sinks two fingers in your cunt, and you can’t take it then, you’re a mess, because fuck it’s different but it’s good. “Feel so fucking good, god you’re so tight…”

“You’re… in? All the way?” He snorts, and it’s not reassuring, but he’s sliding out then back in, as he pumps his fingers in your pussy, filling both your holes so good you can barely take it, all the pressure in your tummy about to burst.

“I won’t go all the way this time. I’m half. You’re too tiny there.” You exhale, and feel him tense. “You feel so, so good.”

“Y-you too. I can’t move though.”

“You don’t have to. Just feel it.” Your eyes shut, as you feel the ridges of his cock sliding deeper into your ass, just a bit, making it burn, it feels so intense inside of you as he fingers your pussy, that you’re close, but it feels so different. You’re clinging to his arms that hold you, as he lifts and drags you down his length, and you’re clenching around him.

“Mmm!”

“That’s it, take what you can.” He orders, so husky, and you’re taking more of his thick length in your little hole while his fingers are drenched with how much arousal is pouring out all over his hand. “You doing okay?”

“Mmmhmm!” He exhales in relief, being so gentle with you it touches you.

“Cum for me, lemme feel you tighten down.” he orders then, and you do, cum so hard it’s blinding, as he’s shoved in just a little deeper, moving in shallow thrusts in your ass as you pulse around his fingers.

“Satoru!”

“Mmm… that’s it, fuck! Fuck… baby…” He’s moaning then, holding your hips with both hands after you’ve cum, then he bends you forward, spitting down your ass again, pulling out and swirling his tip in. “Can you take more?”

“No!” He chuckles, as you giggle into the blankets, and he’s slipping back in, stretching your tight ass hole so much, but it brings you close again.

“Can you take it quicker though I’m losing it.” You nod, earning his exhale, as he pumps quicker, still shallow, and he’s tensing behind you.

“Sensitive?” You tease, earning his soft laugh, as you feel his tip thickening in that tight entrance.

“Fuck yes I am, I’ve been all night with you. Every hole feels so good…. Mouth… pussy… ass…”

“Mmm…”

“Play that clit again. I want you to cum.”

“Already came too much.”

“Nah, don’t tap out.” He spreads your cheeks again, fucking deeper, making you grip the messy sheets, back arching, as you press back for more. “Like it there?”

“Yes, yes!” You slink a hand back down, so wet your hand can barely stay, finding a puffy clit so sensitive you cum again, and he pauses, shoving deeper, then sliding almost out, shoving in again, as you adjust, as you crave more of this insane feeling, as you’re shaking, trying to take him. “Toru!”

“Where… can I…”

“You wanna… cum in there!?”

“Fuck yes I do. But i can pull out.” You bite your lip then, peering back, at his pretty face, his brows together, his cheeks pink. He’s a mess just like you. His eyes lock on yours, and he leans forward over you, hovering, pulling your hair hard and earning a moan as you arch your ass up for more. “Tell me where, m’close baby.”

“You can… cum in there.” You’re blushing furiously, and he laughs a bit, before whimpering, fucking faster, and you’re screaming at how amazing he feels, how he’s tearing you apart.

“Fuck, cum again, please, please, baby…” He begs, and you let go, as he’s pressing your tummy in the mattress, and he finds your clit with long fingers, moaning his release in your ear as he brings you with him.

“Satoru!” You scream weakly, as he’s pumping his hot cum inside your hole, something you’ve never felt, coating it entirely, and his cock twitches and pulses as you pour so much cum down his hand, down his bed.

“Oh… my, fuck… baby girl…” He’s slowed now, gently pumping, and it starts to be too much, you’re wincing as the pain hits a bit more. He eases out, and then it really hits, and you’re hissing.

“Ow, ow, ow.” You feel tears prick your eyes, Satoru immediately pulls you to him, kissing you deeply, tongues dripping saliva as he hungrily devours your mouth.

“You okay? Too much?” He asks softly, caressing you and looking carefully into your eyes.

“Way too much. Good but…”

“We don’t have to again, I love your pussy so much. Promise. I thought…”

“No, I liked it. Um… but maybe not unless I get buzzed first. Ow.” He chuckles, easing out from behind you, kissing you again and again, pulling your body to him. “Mmm, I did like it, clearly.”

“I did too, but I don’t want you hurting.”

“No, you were gentle. It’s okay, Toru, just… ow.” He sighs, then stands up, picking you up in his arms.

“Let me run you a bath, yeah Fiance?”

“Yes, Fiance.”

Soon you are in Satoru Gojo’s big tub, he’d run a fragrant bubble bath for you, and he’s caressing your breasts, brushing thumbs down your sensitive nipples and making you cry out. You’re right between his thighs, letting the hot water run over both of you, as you look up at him, sleepily smiling at his perfect face, his white lashes dripping with the water, droplets on his pale skin.

“I can’t believe we’re getting married. It’s so insane. Satoru we’re both so fucking crazy.” He smirks, thumb brushing across your damp cheek.

“You knew I was crazy when you met me, brat. How ya feeling?”

“Much better. It’s throbbing though.” You wiggle a bit, earning the tightening of his hands around your breasts, feeling too good. “My pussy is sore too, no funny business, Sir.”

He snorts. “Pfft, yeah right, you’re the hornball.”

“Me!? You!”

“Mmm, you match my freak.”

“Do I now?” He nods, pecking kisses against your cheek, your temple, as he slides a hand to your tummy.

“Should show up and tell my parents I knocked you up.”

“Satoru!”

“What!? It would be fun.” You lift your hand, with the pretty ring glinting through the suds that fall down your hand. “You nervous?”

“Terrified of them. Like they seemed like… they’d really hurt me.”

He squeezes you tightly, resting his head on your shoulder, shaking his head. “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you, parents included. You’re everything to me, baby, fucking everything.”

“Oh, Satoru…” You turn in his arms then, clinging to him and kissing him so deeply, as you straddle him, sore pussy pressing on his hard length, as he looks up at you with emotions in those azure depths, his mouth in a tight line. “I know you will protect me. You’re my everything.”

“Don’t ever leave me, please baby.” You feel sobs wracking your body then, you shake your head, cupping his face, thumbs brushing over high cheekbones.

“I will never, ever leave you. I swear it. I am sorry I got so afraid, but I will be here no matter what. Because, Satoru, I love you more than anything in the world. In the universe, in any universe. You alone.”

He has tears falling now, and he pulls you down to him, moaning in your mouth, and he’s sliding his cock in you, making you gasp, as you’re so full. “Sorry baby I need you again, please, please.” He begs, whimpering softly, and you nod then, wrapping arms around his neck, sliding down and hissing at the stretch.

“Take me again, Toru. I’m yours.” He smashes his lips on yours, and he’s fucking you slow, hands running down your skin, nails softly raking your flesh as he’s sucking on the peaks of your breasts, shoving up so deep, and you’re cumming around him, as he starts thrusting harder into your sore little pussy.

“Never leave me. Please.” He’s so desperate, and so are you, to reassure him, to be one with him, as he fucks every worry out of your brain, as he fucks you so stupid in that tub, as you fall into those beautiful eyes.

“Never, Toru, never.”

You stand with Satoru Gojo the next day, in front of the insanely huge mansion his parents resided in, holding hands, as his thumb brushes over your knuckles so gently. You are so afraid, so terrified, and even Satoru is tense, but he’s right there, smiling down at you, that sexy lawyer, that sexy professor, that sexy fiance that he is, bright and brilliant.

“We got this, Shnookums. Ya ready?” You smile tremulously at the name, that silly name that makes you feel so loved, so full.

“I’m ready, Satoru. We do this together.” You squeeze his hand, and your eyes widen when the doors open.

Fuck, can you all get through this?

Chapter 13

[gaypirate420]

Stars // Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn!reader.

Summary: You're bored in class and doodle on Jasper's arm.

Fluff. Jasper's Battle Scars.

A yawn scaped your lips as you stared down at your teacher as she gives a lecture that is not registering on your mind at all. She's talking something about the history of Forks, you don't care, she's boring and it's making you sleepy.

You stared down at your notes, empty except for today's date, your eyes travel to your right to find Jasper actually paying attention and writing down what he finds useful.

"Isn't that a bit useless?" You whisper to him, Jasper's eyes meet yours and he smirks, he raised an eyebrow.

"Writing down notes for history, I mean, I don't think you need notes, you where there." You explained, whispering very low the last part, Jasper lean over closer to you.

"I don't, but you need them, darlin'." He whispered back with a small smile. You smiled and felt your cheeks warming up after hearing the nickname. Your hand went up to his messy hair and brush it down with your fingers, he smiled at your action and let you be.

He quickly stealed a kiss off your cheek and kept paying attention to the class as if nothing happened while you felt your cheeks burning.

Jasper saw how your attention went to anything but the class, you took your pencil case that's full of scrunched up post its and colorful pens and started doodling on your notebook.

Jasper doesn't mind helping you, he gets to spend more time with you and you get a handsome vampire tutor to explain you what you missed over and over if necessary and never gets angry.

The vampire looks back at the teacher, as he hears your pen moving all around the page.

He feels you lifting the sleeves of his sweater and cursing under your breath when you found his dress shirt.

"So many layers, can't even get cold." You murmur teasinly, if it wasn't from his increased hearing he would miss little things like this. Jasper smirks and continues to write before he feels the pen against his marble skin.

He stayed still for a second, his eyes moved to look at you.

You can't see them, his scars, not all of them. But the ones you do seem to be treated with extreme care as you started doodling on his pale arm.

They don't itch, they don't hurt, but, for him, it felt so nice, so important.

Jasper felt flustered, almost like his dead hearth skipped a beat at the sight of the tender scene.

You drew stars, it felt right. You smiled widely as you keep adding more and more, along with little hearts and even a flower on his forearm.

"Do you like your tattoos?" You whispered with the cutest smile he's ever seen. Jasper nodded.

"You're very talented, pumpkin." He could feel your heart skipping and of course your emotions going wild. He smiles as your happiness rub off on him.

"Now you do mine." You offered your pen to him, Jasper looked back at the teacher who spoke nonsense by now, he could make the teacher look like fool on another day for now he smiles and picks up the pen.

His icy cold fingers gently grabbed your arm, bringing it closer to him, you felt a shiver down your body at the sensation.

Your felt the tingly sensation of the pen against your arms, making you giggle silently.

Jasper drew flowers, some skulls that matched your wristband and of course, stars. Your eyes admired him, his blonde hair falling on his face and his furrowed eyebrows showing the absolute dedication to this task.

"There, sugar." He spoke gently, you looked at your arm and grabbed his hand. You saw his wrist and with your free hand you passed two of your bracelets from your wrist to his.

Jasper smiled again, it's odd for him to doing that so many times on so little time, he's getting giddy in the best way possible.

"Now we match." You spoke with an excited whisper. Jasper nodded, your eyes went wide with an idea.

"We should wear matching outfits one day." You smiled wider at the thought. The vampire nodded in agreement.

"That's a great idea, dear." His golden eyes looked at you before he leaned and kissed your lips.

"Mister Hale." The teacher called his name and he pulled away from you, your cheeks were burning again and you looked at the floor in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Miss." Jasper spoke with a victorious smirk as the teacher's frown disappears and turns into a smile, and of course the rest of the class magically turning their heads from you and Jasper.

"Don't worry about it." The teacher spoke with a following chuckle before returning to give her lecture. You giggle softly and shaked your head in mocking disapproval.

Jasper steals another quick peek on your lips before focusing back to writing notes for you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Little fluffy one shot for y'all, I'm working on the requests do not worry. Hope you like it!

[jiminiecrickets]

MILK & TWO SUGARS. KTH / M!READER

summary. despite being your subordinate, taehyung relishes in his power over you.

wc. 4.9k

tags. boss/assistant au, dom top!reader, bottom!tae, tae films himself to tease you, oral (r. receiving), office/desk sex, unprotected sex, officemates-with-benefits (sort of)

[ requested ]

the train carriage rocks and rumbles, steel and electricity burning beneath your feet. you hover beside the moving join between carriages, counting down the number of stops until it reaches yours. aside from the not-so-inconspicuous journalist snapping pictures of you across the carriage, it has been a fairly smooth ride.

he's wearing a cap, staring down at the flip-out screen of his dslr, pointed just right in your direction. he's far enough away that the photos probably don't seem that creepy – not i-pretended-to-bump-into-you-for-this-picture creepy, at least – and he's not holding the camera low enough to angle your crotch as the focal point, which is more than you can say for some other journalists. sure, you may have had a wild youth, but you were square now – just a guy in a suit on his phone with a messenger bag strapped across your chest. the most interesting thing about you was the fact that a bouquet of purple and yellow flowers stuck out one end of your bag.

for all the other commuters knew, you were heading home to kiss your wife and your two-and-a-half kids. you would like to keep it that way, isolating yourself with earbuds playing a rotation of your favourite songs.

on your phone, your insanely efficient and ridiculously beautiful personal assistant has just stopped using capital letters and proper punctuation.

seriously where are you? your coffee's going cold :(

you huff. you told him to wait a while longer before grabbing it since you needed to stop by the florist, but he had always been strict about your schedule. if it wasn't on the document, it didn't exist.

a couple more stops to go, you reply, glancing out the windows to ensure you're not getting his hopes up. nine minutes.

can't you get here any faster?

no, taehyung. it's always going to be nine minutes.

despite his profile picture only being his initials – KT, matching at least four other people in your phone – he manages to inject a whole lot of personality into his next message.

then don't walk, desk jockey. what can i do to make you gallop? the bubble of three dots pops up. perhaps i can tempt you over with a carrot?

please stop it with the horse metaphors.

but you're the only one i wanna ride <3

you nearly choke on your saliva, hastily pressing your phone screen to your chest for privacy. you steel your nerves when your phone vibrates again, chasing away the heat crawling rapidly up your neck. you take a deep breath and glance down.

a video. you tap the play button and the window expands to take up your screen.

the first thing you notice is that taehyung's not wearing any pants. he's wearing everything but pants, and you even see a flash of his playful smirk as he tightens his tie when he glances down. he smooths it down, down his stomach, and leans back in a chair.

your chair.

holy shit. he's in your office.

he tucks one foot up onto the edge of your desk, polished pointed shoe pivoting as he makes himself comfortable. he rests on the point of his elbow, cradling his jaw with long slim fingers.

he wraps his slender fingers around his cock, revealing it from beneath the bottom of his crisp white dress shirt. only the bottom sliver of his face is visible, soft and shapely pink lips playing at innocence, tucked teasingly between his front teeth.

your music doesn't provide a buffer anymore. on instinct, you darken your screen and slam the mute button, thumb working at the phone's volume button in excess.

but, because you have terrible vices, you slowly edge the volume back up until his soft, breathy moans rattle in your skull like a marble inside a can of spray paint.

"hey, boss," he whispers, fingers rolling over his reddened tip, cock dark pink and shining in his grip. he plays at formality, straightening his jacket lapel with his free hand. his hand drops down to cup his bare thigh, golden and soft, and slides gently over his skin, back and forth – caressing himself the same way you do. he exhales softly, back arching. the chair's leather shifts audibly. "come grab your coffee, already. aren't you thirsty? i sure am."

dropping his leg, he pushes his shirt up around his chest, and lifts his phone above him with a sound between a hum and a moan. taehyung twists in your black leather chair, its tall slim shape highlighting the way he angles his hips to accentuate his waist and hips and the way his soft thighs fill up the seat of the chair.

you close your eyes for a steadying breath, shifting on the spot as the train pulls up to your station. thank goodness you had the epiphany to wear a dark suit today. it'd be a particularly awkward gossip piece for that journalist – yes, still there – if you'd worn something lighter.

"i'll be waiting, big boy," he coos directly into your ears, the breathiness in his voice and the flush to his cheeks letting you know just how long he's been in your chair.

he's going to be the death of you.

you weave your way through the station, hurrying down the stairs with your phone in a death grip, screen off. it pings when the pedestrian crossing lights turn green and your mouth goes dry at the sight of another video, described only by date and file type. you struggle to swallow.

on his knees, lovely round ass presented to the camera, taehyung pumps three fingers in and out of his slick hole, the shine of lube dripping down his thigh. his moans are quick and muffled by the palm over his mouth, his cheeks glowing pink with desire, and his hips jerk as he pulls his knees close together. his cock presses firmly along the seam of the back of his thighs.

hissing softly, he pulls his fingers out with a slick pop, lubricated until the knuckle. he glides his fingertips around his hole, showing himself off with a soft giggle, and rocks back on them until his cock twitches. it leaks as he fucks himself with them.

"ah...! get down here, already – my fingers aren't as thick as yours, baby. m-maybe i could still come on them, though," he moans slyly, the quick slick sound of his pumping fingers jolting shivers down your spine. "gonna fucking come on myself, come on your desk – every time you enter this office, you're gonna remember the way i made you feel." 

he moans with a toss of his head as his hand quickens. his leaking cock pulses and he bounces slightly on his fingers, that little bit of friction from his cock bumping his thighs almost enough.

"what is it... that you said?" he grins back at the camera, dark eyes smoky and devious. "only angels have bodies like mine? well... white was always heaven's colour."

his lips part as his dark brow furrows, his grip tightening on the back of the chair as his hips tremble. his cock explodes with cum, spurting out in thick white ropes that splatter the backs of his thighs like the sweetest glaze. he spreads his jerking, trembling thighs, and his release slowly pools on the black leather between his knees. he pants softly, wordless.

in the silence of your earbuds, your head rings with the anticipation of your pounding heart, nearly sprinting the half-block down to the skyscraper with your last name printed on it. you push through the large glass doors carelessly – they're shatterproof, and they'll survive you shouldering your way through them.

on your phone, taehyung lets out a soft exhale that sinks claws into your brain. glossy white beads drip from the edge of your chair between his unblemished legs, and if that's not a scene of the divine, then you don't know what is.

shit. hastily, you pass the receptionists and slip into an empty elevator someone left behind. swiping your card, you punch the button for the highest floor, and survive the agonising seconds up, dumping your earbuds and phone unceremoniously into your bag.

the elevator dings, and you're shoving yourself through the tiniest gap the moment it appears with a problem in your pants and a problem at your desk.

lazily, taehyung grins, pink tongue swiping over his lips. one hand strokes his pretty cock under the desk, the motion of his arm perfectly clear.

"hey there, big boy," he purrs. "finally here for your coffee, right?"

you grunt noncommittedly, extracting the bouquet of flowers from your bag before dumping the bag on the loveseat by the elevator. you place it in a white vase and wiggle it back into place on the cute pigeonhole shelf.

you turn back to him, and he's standing now, leaning forward over your desk with that same silky smile. "done with playing uncaring? come over here, make me sorry. i've broken your rules, haven't i, boss?"

"you're a real piece of work," you growl, stalking towards him and yanking him away from your desk to survey the damage. time to put in a request for a new chair. you return your gaze to taehyung, who just smiles demurely at you and strokes the bulge in your trousers.

"a piece of art, don't you like telling me?" he teases, nudging your cock with his knuckles. his smile widens as your breath skips like a record player. he pushes you towards the end of your oak desk. "you liked my presents, did you?"

"presents? that was torture," you rumble, placing your hand on top of his head and fisting a handful of his hair. you tug firmly backwards and his eyes roll back briefly as he moans, hands faltering for just a moment as he fiddles with your fly – you smirk at the sight.

his lashes flutter as he regains control, pupils dilating as he gazes up at you from between your thighs. "but you liked them, right, sir?" he asks softly, almost nervously. he fishes your cock out and his breath hitches, his lower lip tugged between his teeth as he stares up at it.

"is the sky blue, dove?" you ask, softening your voice just for him. he melts like chocolate, pressing himself sweetly into you, and you let go of his hair to card it back from his large dark eyes, tucking the stray strands behind his ears. "but i won't say it didn't surprise me. i was on the train."

"your fault when you have a perfectly good car in the garage, sir," he says with a hum, and he kisses the base of your cock. he lifts your hand back to his hair and you guide his head towards the head of your shaft. with a soft moan, he's all yours again to eat and enjoy, those dark brown eyes almost gold in the late afternoon sun.

"i'll let that sass slide because you're usually such a sweet boy," you say softly, humming as he drags his warm tongue over the ridge of your tip. "good. suck."

he loves the way you talk to him with that voice – a voice like chocolate, sweet and thick and dark. he bobs his head, stroking what he can't fit, and he moans when you hit the back of his throat, filling his mouth and stretching his jaw wide. he works at your cock, tongue lapping at the veins, tracing them to your tip and back, and closes his lips around your shaft, gradually getting all of it down his throat.

he clasps your thighs, letting himself enjoy the heft and heat of your cock filling his throat, and his eyes slide closed, the tip of his nose brushing your pelvis. you exhale softly and pat his hair to watch it bounce back into place, tugging the loose beach curls between two fingers and letting them spring back. it's incredibly soft and silky for someone who's dyed his entire head honey blond for at least as long as he's been working for you.

you cup his cheek as he bobs his head, warm tight throat swallowing your cock, constantly squeezing and fluttering, and your hand shifts to his chin, fingers pressed against the bend of his throat where it meets his jaw. gliding your fingers lower, you can feel your cock sliding against the walls of his throat. when he pulls back until just the heavy tip rests on his tongue, you feel with reverence the way he swallows it down, following the movement of the tip of your cock with each finger it passes.

below, you watch in amusement as he jerks himself off, motions quick and shallow but involving the motion of his whole arm from the shoulder. he moans as he swallows your cock, and your head falls back as your cock throbs from the tight vibrations.

"fuck, taehyung, good boy," you groan, listening to him choke and gag on it as if he couldn't get enough. saliva coats your dick, and it drips down his chin. his parted lips allow him to moan and when he closes his lips around it, he redefines the word 'suck'.

his cheeks hollow, his eyes roll back, and he's so warm and wet around you that your control snaps and you yank his head forward, burying your cock deep in him. he whimpers so perfectly when he feels your cum sliding down his throat, swallowing rapidly. his lashes flutter as he pushes himself deeper and his lips press against your base, making you grunt sharply, fingers tightening in his hair.

even when your grip loosens, your uneven breaths steadying, taehyung keeps you in his mouth, feeling his own hot cum drip down his twitching cock. he doesn't stroke himself, doesn't pull away – just contents himself during the aftermath of his high with keeping his mouth full, blinking slowly like a cat at the hazy middle-distance.

you have to slide him off your cock and he protests, whimpering softly as his nails dig into your thigh. you wrap a hand around yourself, pumping it slowly, and taehyung stares on yearningly, licking his lips subconsciously when a bead of cum slides down your tip.

"do i need to look at what you've done," you ask, though your voice remains steady at the end like a statement. "pretty thing, we are in my office. that means no messes."

"doesn't feel as good as when you're in me," he rasps, leaning up and kissing the base of your cock. "please, baby? promise i'll clean up later."

"you can't always get your way through flattery," you chuckle as he stands, tilting and falling against you as if he belongs there, wrapped in your arms. one hand travels further down and cups his ass, squeezing the supple warmth of it. he moans airily.

"it's worked so far," he whispers. "go sit down, big boy. gonna ride you like you deserve."

"what, you're going to tease this gorgeous little ass and i'm not allowed to have a taste?" you tease, and taehyung grins, pressing chest-to-chest with you. "you're a cruel man."

he smiles, still panting softly, and presses his lips to the line of your jaw. "maybe later," he murmurs. "will you clean me up and take care of me afterwards?"

"depends on my mood, pretty," you hum, guided over to your seat and watching as he sets himself atop your lap. you squeeze his thighs, sitting up against his back.

"you're a chivalrous man, boss. you wouldn't force me to walk home with your cum dripping down my leg," he chuckles, placing his ass over your cock and grinding against it. he grips the armrest and turns his head over his shoulder to kiss you, the other hand coming up to grip your hair. "mm – fuck me already. wanna feel your cock fill me up like a whore – been waiting for ages to get you alone for this."

"you could always call me outside of work, you know?"

"but where's the fun in that?" he teases, and sinks down on your cock with a breathy relieved moan that makes you shiver.

holy fuck. he's so damn warm, so wet. for a moment your thoughts fizzle out into pleasant static shooting down your spine and out to your fingers and toes. just being with him, close to him, enveloped by his faint blue cologne, makes heaven an afterthought.

when you come to and open your eyes – despite not remembering closing them – you are met with taehyung's soft smoky gaze, his warm palm cupping your cheek. he smiles, breathless, as he leans in, closing his eyes and pressing your foreheads together. "you're handsome when you come."

after taking a moment to gather yourself, you frown slightly, shifting your hands higher on his thighs. no, you are most certainly still hard. "wishful thinking, much?"

"no, that was better than watching you come." he nuzzles into your cheek and jaw, then presses your foreheads together again with a soft roll of his hips. the action has you gasping and he slots his mouth against yours, taking advantage of the moment of weakness to slip his tongue between your teeth.

knowing he, your quiet, pretty little secretary, is the one to bring you down from your pedestal, fills him with insurmountable pride. smugness, too – a healthy dose of it. after all, the media made you into the country's most eligible bachelor, and still here you were, leaning into his touch like a soft college boyfriend. you've spent every waking moment since you turned eighteen having columnists nipping at your heels and biting into your clothes, your friends, your love life, and anything else they can twist into drama or some moral fault with you. he knows how high your walls are because of it and the fact that you decided to give him a chance, to let him help you, despite looking like every one of the scandalmongers who've ever hurt you, makes him proud.

you'd never truly lost that pureness about you, that faith in people's goodness that most lose the first time they're betrayed by those they love. that is a very hard thing to do when so many close to you have had some dark immortal want to leech out of you.

taehyung's getting ahead of himself. he can start thinking such things when you start calling him your boyfriend.

"i missed you," he whispers, breath hitching as the ridge of your cockhead catches on his rim. he reaches behind himself, guiding himself onto your dick, and his fingernails dig into your shoulder as he throws his head back with a breathless moan.

"yeah?" you murmur, because you can't ever stay upset at taehyung. "it's only been a few hours. fuck. mm – couldn't have known. maybe you should've sent me a few more videos of yourself."

he tries to gasp in offence, but it comes out too breathy, too pleased. he bounces on your lap with his creamy thighs bracketing yours. "pig. why do you want videos when you have the real thing right in front of you?"

"so i can remember you on lonely nights in foreign hotel rooms."

he scoffs, chuckling softly as he circles his hips, making you groan and tighten your grip on him. he cups the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. "give me a promotion, big boy. then your nights won't have to be so lonely."

"you and your silver tongue," you murmur, placing your hands on the curve of his ass, the tiny dip of flesh at the base of his spine. he arches into your touch with a soft sigh, clenching around you and enveloping you in his velvety heat.

"mhm. you know what my tongue can do," he teases, content to fill himself up with you and do nothing else for the rest of the day. he could sit here, pretty as a princess, for the rest of his life and he'd have no qualms about it.

you, however, have different ideas.

you hook your arms under his thighs and rise to your feet, swiping pens and papers clear of your desk and onto the floor with a clatter – he laughs – and you set him down on your desk, kissing his jaw and neck. you nip at his earlobe and he growls in warning playfully, yanking your hair to bring your throat closer to him. he sucks a hickey onto the sensitive skin, the sting giving way to pleasure far too easily.

he spreads his knees and leans back, grabbing your cock with one hand and bracing against the desk with the other, and slips you back inside him with a long moan of bliss. "y-you're so big..."

"don't stroke my ego," you chuckle, stroking his soft, smooth hips and thighs as you thrust hilt-deep into him, easier now that he's adjusted. "god knows it's big enough as it is."

"of course i have to. you're the – the top man." his breath hitches as your cock glides against his swollen prostate, dragging against it roughly with how tightly he's stretched around you. he swears he can follow the line of the veins when it rides against his gummy walls with a harsh thrust. "oh, fuck! baby!"

"that feel good, hm?" you murmur into his ear, the sweet decadence of it rolling over his brain like waves over the shore.

"yes," he moans, eyes rolling back as you press into him, a single shift of the angle of your hips enough to make his back arch and his mouth fall open. "yes, yes! ah, f-fuck, right there – right there, harder, don't stop..."

you know his body like the back of your hand. gripping his thighs until they dimple under your fingertips, you pull out until just the tip rests against his hole. with a snap of your hips, you bury yourself deep in his warmth, making him jerk and cry out. his cock spurts prematurely and he gnaws on his lower lip, squeezing his eyes shut to will down his budding high. his nails dig into your shoulders.

"i told you," he pants, glistening eyes raising to meet yours. "harder."

what your secretary wants, he gets.

your cock slams directly into his prostate and he gasps, whimpering softly as you set a quick, hungry pace. still unsatisfied, you push your mouth against his, tongue dipping between his lips to taste his coffee.

milk, two sugars.

he always had a sweet tooth.

his damp hair sticks to his temples, the perfect salon waves bouncing rapidly with each smack of your hips against his ass. he moans into your mouth as his cock jerks, swollen and heavy against his slim stomach. it bounces with each powerful thrust and he cries out, the sweet sound echoing in your office for anyone to hear.

he whines softly, a softer sound than he'd ever let anyone else hear. he claws at your shoulders and sides, panting against your lips and submitting to your demanding kisses with messy clouded lust. the slap of skin on skin only arouses him further and he grabs your tie in a white-knuckled grip, tugging your mouth down against his the moment it parts for air.

"close," he whimpers into the kiss, and his eyes flutter back into his skull as your cock punches the breath out of his lungs, fucking him faster, harder, deeper. he opens his eyes, half-lidded and dazed, as you sweep his hair out of his eyes, combing it back gently with your fingers.

you tug. he comes.

his velvety searing heat swallows you whole, animal in its hunger, and he digs his heels into your lower back, forcing your cock deeper in him until you have no choice but to follow him over the precipice, crashing over it like blue waves over white rock. his pleasure is engulfing, almost stifling despite his tenderness. he curls into your grasp, panting and nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and his hot, shuddering breath stirs against the fine skin of your collarbone.

when your hips slow to give him a moment of respite – surely he'd want one, you thought, barely able to eke out a gasp of your name – he instead takes the chance to chastise you.

"couldn't you have... finished... any faster?" he huffs, his chest heaving as he gulps down air between words. "you've a meeting in five minutes."

with your thoughts still lingering on the image of taehyung's bliss and the clandestine knowledge that he'd made a mess on your desk, you take a moment to respond. when you do, you're incredulous.

"wait, are you trying to keep me on schedule? now?"

"it's... it's office hours. i still have to do my job." he rolls his eyes, as if you aren't balls-deep inside of him. you remind him with a few shallow, gentle thrusts – he sucks in a shaky breath and tips his head back with a shake to let his bangs fall more comfortably over his forehead. "lord knows you're not the one keeping an eye on your timetable."

"we can talk about that later, and just reschedule that damn meeting. they'll wait for me." you press your lips to the dip just beneath his ear and he hums, lazily content. then, as if remembering that he has to play bad cop and not laze in the comfort of your touch, his eyes flutter open and his mouth thins into a straight line.

"you're making a bad habit out of this," he argues. there he is – your fiery assistant. if you looked at him now, you'd never know he'd just been making dirty videos with sultry smiles.

"the best kind of habit," you murmur, shifting your hips. his breath hitches and his grip tightens involuntarily on your shoulder, making you smirk. "don't worry, taehyung. i'll give you the rest of the day off. you need one – at least today because of me."

his frown deepens at your cheeky comment, even though his cheeks flush. "i don't take days off."

"you always say that, but what are you doing right now? working hard or hardly working?" you tease, sliding your hands up his thighs and hips.

"it's – different," he manages to gasp out, clicking his tongue when your nails drag over the veins of his messy cock. "stop that. you have a meeting, remember?"

you draw your hand back. "i was working when you sent me those videos. i seem to recall you were, too. this feels unfair."

"unfair?" he repeats. "you liked them. you always like them." he pauses. "don't you?"

"i'm not sure the other people on the train appreciate your beauty as much as i do." you kiss him and he hums, accepting your tongue into his mouth with a sigh of pleasure. "don't stop sending your videos."

"is that an order, big boy?" he whispers.

"yes, it is," you reply, and he smiles, brief and sweet. you pull out of him gently, rubbing the join between his hip and thigh soothingly as he moans softly through bitten lips. "now, you have an email to write. that meeting won't postpone itself."

he huffs, allowing you to help him down from your desk. he turns around, leaning over it to grab his laptop from the corner, and you press yourself into his back and ass, teasing your cock against his hole. the coffee he grabbed for you sits cold on the edge of your desk next to the pen holder.

"tell me what the email says," you murmur into his neck, caressing his stomach with one hand and teasing his nipples with the other.

taehyung's breath shudders as he nods, opening up the calendar and shifting the meeting to three days later. moving it a few hours means you look sloppy with your time management, and so does one day. three days looks like a choice – like you have better things to do with your time. these men don't have anyone else to go to, so they'll wait for you no matter what.

"your conference with mr ln has been moved to thursday, august twenty-first. please see attached—" he closes his eyes as your hand wraps around the base of his cock, gently squeezing. "p-please see attached a link to your updated appointment."

you shrug, peppering kisses over the freckles of his neck and shoulder. "good enough. send it."

he clicks send and closes his laptop, pushing it away as you lift him into your arms. he gasps and wraps his limbs around you, holding tight as you move him to the couch on the other side of the room. you hover over him as he pants softly, staring up at you with dark eyes and plump red lips.

"by the way, i've received message that your suit's been delivered to your home," you say with a soft smile. "you're going to outshine everyone at that stupid awards ceremony."

"you say that as if you won't like seeing me in it. you can fuck me in it in the car afterwards. you bought it, after all." his eyes glint dangerously. "maybe i'll wear a surprise under it – to celebrate your successes, of course."

you grin, filthy and boyish, and taehyung's heart flutters. "you've just made me very excited for that day. come grab coffee with me after work – we can test how much space i have in my backseat."

[multch]

Art the Clown head cannons.

Art has no definition of cleanliness. He gives off racoon vibes where he'll live in absolute trash yet still do his laundry regularly.

Favorite holiday is Black Friday. He finds amusement in seeing people rip each other apart for sales. (He also participates in the violent holiday as he has very little spare change to spend on snacks)

Since he's immortal, I imagine he has picked up a few languages over the years- Russian, Dutch, etc, etc..

Art doesn't need to eat but regardless, he loves to. He tried sugar cookies once and killed 4 people that day from the sugar rush he felt (super festive…)

Definitely drinks Alcohol often but never takes drugs since he has no idea how a stimulant might affect his occult powers.

During the festive season, Art drinks almost exclusively eggnog, whereas, usually he drinks cases of cheap beer before going out on murderous killing sprees.

Art is crazy about Christmas- If Halloween didn’t give him a great disguise, he would go around dressed like Santa all year round. (Unfortunately going around commando all the time makes being a Mall-Santa quite conflicting..)

NSFW BELOW CUT OFF [18+]

Art is 100% into torture porn and doesn't refrain from using violence on the person he loves to get himself off.

If his partner has boundaries against kinks like knife play or blood, Art settles for small bites instead.

He loves leaving his mark on you.

If he's allowed to hurt you, he will. He loves creating small cuts along your thighs and smearing little hearts out of the blood that spills out of your wounds.

If you're a romantic partner (maybe even a partner in crime…) he shapes both your sexual and romantic experiences to your preferences. He doesn't care- but if you do, he would do anything to make it a reality. Even if it is a bit unorthodox…

He definitely DIY’d sex toys to use on you and they definitely broke. 

Art's the type of guy to pull up with a dildo duct taped to a drill that's still covered in blood from the last time he drilled it into someone's skull and still give you that cheeky grin like its attractive.

[darylmydix]

THE SCARS WE SHARE | daryl dixon - 003

summary: you were the only good thing daryl had in his life. bonded by similar trauma, you suffered abuse at the hands of your stepmother, just as daryl had suffered from his own father. when you finally decide to escape your abusive home life, you're forced to leave behind your best friend in the process. now with the world in an apocalyptic state, you're left wondering if daryl was even alive.

pairings: daryl dixon x fireader.

warnings: smut, violence, blood and gore, unrequited love, best friends to lovers, mentions of s/a, mentions of abuse, mention of suicidal thoughts/attempts, mention of drug use, use of deadly weapons, fluff, angst, slow burn, strong language, kidnapping, coercion, seasons 5-11, 18+, minors dni.

word count: 2.3k

author’s note: if you asked to be in the taglist and you’re not, i apologize. it wouldn’t let me tag some of you. and yes, the person featured in this chapter is exactly who you probably think it is. also warning because this chapter may be triggering as it has attempted s/a.

You stare dolorously at your reflection through your vanity mirror; there was a desperate desire to wipe off all the makeup that coated your face. If the action didn’t come with an unpleasant outcome, you probably would have. Especially if it made you unappealing to whatever “guest” your stepmother had coming by.

You were adorned in a sultry black dress that was form fitting and showing off your curves. One thing your stepmother loved doing more than degrading you was dressing you up like her own personal doll. You hated it. You never pictured yourself as the sexy type. You didn't wear makeup because that merely wasn’t your cup of tea, and typically dressed down to avoid unwarranted gazes from depraved men.

Not that it mattered anyway. Dressed up or down, it still never ceased a creep from saying anything perverted. Merle Dixon proved that theory for you when he referred to you as “sugar tits” the couple times you’d been around him.

You get up from your vanity stool, shuffling over to your bed. You plop on the edge, trying to calm your nerves. You never knew what to expect from the men Sandra brought over. Some of them like to sit and talk before they get to business, while others like to jump straight into it. Some of them were vanilla and traditional, while others had kinks they were into.

None were ever too extreme, but it all made you feel filthy and uncomfortable nonetheless. What made you more unsettled was how many of the men were old family friends, or people in the neighborhood. It surely opened your eyes to how fiendish humans could be.

That’s why you always cherished your friendship with Daryl. He could be an asshole, and a bit prejudiced at times but deep down he had a heart of gold. You were lucky to be able to witness that side of him. He gave you hope for humanity.

A hard knock at your closed door interrupted your thoughts. You could feel your heart beating through your chest as it often did when this ordeal occurred. You let out a deep, unsteady sigh before speaking. “Come in.” You say. As the door opens, you’re face to face with a man you’d never seen before. “Well hello there.” He smiles, shutting the door behind him.

“H-hi���” you mutter, examining the man in front of you. He had longish gray locks, and facial hair. And he wore a buttoned up black long sleeved shirt embroidered with skulls and roses on it. He gave off a biker style. “I’m Joe.”

“Y/n.” You reply dryly, now looking away from the man.

“You’re very beautiful. I wasn’t sure what to expect.” He laughed heartily as though this whole scenario wasn’t disturbing. You don’t bother to respond, wanting the man to just get started and let this baptism of fire end. The man seemed to notice your lack of communication, and walked over to you. You tense a bit, but he suddenly takes a seat on the edge of the bed with you.

“You seem apprehensive, darlin’.” He says.

You weren't sure what he was expecting from this situation. You were being trafficked by your stepmother, and he was a dirty old man contributing to the crime. The man pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Y’know,” he starts. “I get it. This isn’t the most forthcoming thing to be happening right now, and you probably think I’m just a pervy old gu–”

“Can we just… not talk? I want this to be over as quickly as possible.” You finally speak up. The man looks at you, his expression suddenly changing from faux sincerity to an off putting smile. “Oh darlin’, this won’t be quick. It’s been awhile, so it might take me some time.” He chuckles before standing up and moving in front of you.

You keep your head down, not bothering to look at him until you hear the sound of metal clanging together. The man suddenly throws handcuffs beside you where he was sitting. You scrunch your brows together, looking from the cuffs to him. “Cuff yourself to the headboard.” He says, his tone demanding and not as laidback as it was moments ago. His entire demeanor had changed like the flick of a switch.

Your eyes widen at the command. You had never been cuffed to the bed before from any of the past men. The thought of being restrained and not able to fight back if anything happened frightened you. You weren’t so willing to put your trust, or even life into the hands of this stranger, who you were now getting an unwavering feeling about. “Go on. Do it.” He pushes.

“I don’t think… I don’t think I should.” You say slowly, looking away from the man’s displeased face. “You don’t… think you should?” He repeats your words just as slow. You nod your head. “I just wanna be comfortable. That’s all.” You try your best to get him to rethink the cuffs, but he seemed to be dead set on them. “Your mama back there told me you were obedient. I didn’t pay nearly $200 for you to tell me what you won’t do, girl.” He spat.

You cringed at him referring to Sandra as your mother. She could never be your mother. “She’s not my mother.” You correct him. The man scoffed. “I don’t give a damn who she is to you. I paid that money, and I’ll get what I want even if I have to cuff you myself.”

You shake your head. You didn’t care if you were going to suffer the consequences from this later. You’d put up with a lot of odd things from these men, but even the sheer thought of being cuffed to the headboard gave you crippling anxiety. You stand up from the bed, the man still towering your small frame. “I’ll get you your money back,” you assure him. “But I can’t allow you to cuff me.” You stand firm on your decision.

You tried to push past him to leave the bedroom, but were suddenly snatched by your wrist and pulled back. “Ain’t no need for that girl because I’m getting my money’s worth.” He says before tossing you to the mattress. You quickly try to get back up, but he’s pushing you down and grabbing the cuffs. “Get off me!” You shout, struggling against him.

“You’re only going to make this worse for you. Stop squirming.”

A stinging sensation comes across your cheek and you cry out in pain. The man had slapped you, leaving your cheek heated. “Sandra!” You yell for your stepmother in the most desperate attempt to get the man off of you. You knew better though. Your stepmother didn’t care what happened to you. As long as she got money, you were at the mercy of the men who paid her.

You muster up all your strength, finally able to flip the man off of you. He falls to the floor with a thud and a “oomf”. You use this opportunity to quickly jump from the mattress. The man swiftly gets back up to his feet. You know you had no time to make it to the door without him stopping you. You run to your dresser, grabbing the razor blade off the top of it.

Joe approaches you in ignorant bliss, unaware of the tiny blade you held. “Nowhere to run, girl. Let’s just bury the hatchet and start over. No cuffs.” He offers as if you were going to let this psychopath have his way after what he tried to do. “Fuck you, pig.” You snap.

“Have it your way.” He says, lunging at you. You speedily swing your arm, the blade cutting the man’s hand. He steps back, holding his bleeding hand. “You little bitch!” He shouts in pain. You take this opportunity to run to the door, ripping it open as you run out to the living room. You head for the front door, but are immediately grabbed. “Hey!” Your stepmother shouted. “What the hell’s going on? Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“That bastard tried to assault me, didn’t you hear me screaming for you?!” You cry.

“Assault? Did you forget your place, girl? He’s supposed to do that.” She spat angrily, knowing she was going to lose money for this.

“He tried to make me cuff myself to the bed, and when I told him no he tried to force me!”

“You think you have a say in what goes on? I do! If he wants to cuff you to the damn bed, then so be it. He’s a paying client, and I will not lose out on my money just because you wanna bitch about goddamn handcuffs!”

You look at her through wide eyes. Your stepmother was always cruel, this was no shocking matter. But to let this man attempt to assault you and tell you to just deal with it? You refused. You shake your head, snatching away from her grasp. “No.”

“No?” She questions. “I’ll teach you to tell me n–”

“I want my goddamn money back, bitch!” Joe came stumbling into the living room, his hand dripping blood. Your stepmother turns to him, her eyes drifting from him to his hand. “What the fuck happened to your hand?” She asks.

“That little whore cut me, that’s what!” He grimaced. “I want my money back, or both of you bitches are gonna pay.”

“Listen, I’m sure there’s a way we can work this out.” She tries to reason with him. As the two of them go back and forth, you use the opportunity to make your grand escape. You whip around, running to the front door before jerking it open and running outside. You could hear your stepmother yelling your name as you ran down the street barefoot.

You run to the only place you could run to, the only person you could run to.

You ran the entire 20 minutes until you finally reached the trailer parks. You walk through the gravel trail, ignoring the pain of rocks digging into your feet. You’re relieved as you see the Dixon residence lights on. You walk up the stairs, frantically knocking on the door.

“You get into some kinda trouble again, boy? Who the hell is bangin’ on the damn door like the feds?”

“Hell should I know?” You hear Daryl’s voice, footsteps approaching. You step back as the door opens with Daryl on the other side of it. Daryl’s staring at you, a worried expression on his face as he looks your shaken frame over. “Who the hell is it?” Will yells.

“It’s for me.” Daryl responds, closing the door as he steps outside. “The hell happened to you?” He’s grabbing your chin, looking you over. “Is that blood?” There’s a hint of fear in his voice at the thought of you getting hurt that bad. You nod your head. “But it’s not mine,” you assure him. “It’s some guy. I cut his hand after he tried to…” your lip quivers, eyes watering as you try to force yourself to explain to him, but he stops you.

“You ain’t gotta repeat it. He still there? I’ma kill that son’na bitch.” He stomps down the stairs. You follow him. “Daryl, no, wait!” You grab his forearm, stopping him. “Fuck we waitin’ for, huh?! I ain’t just gonna let ‘em get away with it!” He swings his arm in frustration.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say. “Last night you said this doesn’t have to be our reality…” you pause before speaking again. “So run away with me.” You speak through glossy eyes.

Daryl stares at you with a blank expression, as though he didn’t hear you. “What?”

“Let’s run away,” you repeat. “We could go anywhere. We could start over. Get out of this fucking dead weight town, with these twisted fucking people. Me and you…”

You await his answer, hopeful that he’d agree.

But he didn’t.

“I can’t.” He replied.

“What do you mean you can’t? Yes you can. We could leave right now and never look back, Daryl–”

“Man, I said I can’t!” He snapped. “I can’t just leave Merle alone with that asshole in there. He’s my brother.” You stare at him in shock. “And what am I to you?” You ask him. He doesn’t answer, looking away from your hurt gaze. “What am I to you?” You ask again, your eyes watering. He still doesn’t answer, almost as if he’s afraid to say.

“You think he cares about you? You’re not even worth a damn to care about.” Sandra’s voice echoes in the back of your mind.

“Oh god… Sandra was right. You don’t give a damn about me…” you push past him, on your way to leave the trailer park but Daryl hastily grabs you. “Aye, stop. You know that shit ain’t true. I just… I just need you to wait. Once Merle’s outta jail I’ll tell him so he can come with us.”

The thought of Merle tagging along wasn’t ideal. All his presence would do is drag Daryl down and the whole point of you two running away together was to get away from bullshit. Unfortunately Merle brings bullshit wherever he goes. Regardless of that fact, there was no clear way of knowing if he’d even come along when he’s out.

“And what if he says no? Then what?”

Daryl goes silent again, but that was all the answer you needed. You nod. “I get it,” You whisper. “Stupid of me to ever think you’d choose me over blood.” You sniff, laughing at yourself. “When he’s out,” you say. “We’ll ask. I’ll wait a little longer.”

“Will you?” He speaks up. Now it was your turn to go silent, not answering his question as you began to back away to leave. “I’ll see you later, Daryl.”

Taglist:

@daryldixmedown, @supernaturalstilinski, @vampiresluv, @myassisasolarsystem, @mosstheshoeshoethemoss, @scripteria, @moonlightreader649, @creepumiku, @filmsbyblair, @ginger-haired-queen, @darylsdollie, @inkofthebrain, @teethvenom

[velvetures]

could i request a ghost x “strawberry/cutecore/hello kitty” reader?! basically just everything is pink and they are super bubbly :>

pls and ty 🙏🏻

Simon "Ghost" Riley & Cutecore/Hyperfeminine Aesthetic

a/n: I loved this request... but it was my first attempt at the aesthetic/vibe as a whole and I'm not sure if I hit the mark. I used this pic as my inspo. ):( Summary: What it's like for Ghost to have an "everything in pink, please." gf, and what kind of feelings go along with it. TW's: suggestive content 18+ ONLY, established relationship, possessiveness?, def not proofread (the usual), fem!reader.

Of all the women that Simon ever entertained the thought of being, one like you didn’t initially even present itself as a remotely interesting option. The idea of someone such much different from himself sounded like nothing less than a good way of fucking up someone else’s -otherwise- normal life by inserting himself into it. You just always seemed so damn happy and excited about even the smallest of things; Practically amplifying the good feelings floating around in the air and blasting them right back at him. Never without something pink on and dressed up like you were minutes away from attending some kind of fairy party literally scared Ghost away from having anything to do with you.

You on the other hand, weren’t exactly sure what it was that made Ghost so averse to speaking to you more than a few words at a time. Yet made it your very private little mission of sorts to snoop and poke around until you found some kind of answer as to why such a massive and expertly lethal man couldn’t bear to stand within arms reach of you. He just intrigued you for some reason or another. Only getting glimpses of the man’s real self in his eyes -the only visible part of him- and having to make your next moves based off of nothing more than gut-feelings and the hope that you were reading his signals correctly.

At first, it crossed your mind that your preferred aesthetic of sorts could be a bit of the problem. For most people it might appear a bit too much, and when looking at Ghost dressed almost head to to in black with a skull painted on his masked face… there was good reason to assume it in the first place. What you didn’t know was that it was so much deeper than your affinity for lace-trimmed socks, Mary Jane’s, pearls, and practically anything hyper-feminine and in a shade of pink. Ghost didn’t believe you were weak or predisposed to acting childish. You held a massively significant job in journalism and worked harder than most people he knew at what you did. You just happened to enjoy everything around you looking like some damn cotton-candy tea party.

What bothered him was your sweet personality and an intrinsic value he held for just how fucking innocent you were towards him and everyone else around you. People could be utterly horrible right to your face, and you’d silently keep the hurt to yourself and never fight back against what they’d done. Revenge wasn’t something you cared for, while it was essential to Ghost’s motivation in his work and private life. For a long time he couldn’t balance his morals of being involved with you at all with the thoughts in the back of his mind about how much he might twist and form you into something unrecognizable. Something a lot less… pink. A person that didn’t enjoy such small little things like how a skirt had small pink flowers embroidered on it, or if the little bows you’d stick in your hair had a lace fringe on the edges.

Oh but how things changed when Ghost finally couldn’t stand looking at you without thinking about how nice it would be to have his arm wrapped around you, pulling you tight up against him to keep everyone from staring. The Lieutenant always had a weak spot for you and your sugar-sweet personality and looks. But goddamn did he start loving the color pink more than a professional murderer should. All the hues and tones of that fucking color began reminding him of you no matter where he was, or what he was doing. For the longest time, he’d been worried that he would be the one that changed you, all the while he was too deep inside his own mind to recognize that you were the one controlling the direction things were headed.

Just looking at you made him shudder with feelings of possessiveness and adoration. Standing there happy as could be with thigh-high white socks and a fluffy pink skirt, all dressed up just to go out to eat at a little late-night pub because he couldn’t stand the idea of having to show his face in the bright daylight. You knew to a certain extent that Ghost appreciated the way you lived your life just a bit more feminine than average… but the depths of his thoughts and ideas about you were surface level to say the least. He just knew what you looked like clinging to his arm walking down the street; His polar opposite and yet so happy to be close to him. A darling smile… pretty and glossed lips… frilly things on almost every piece of clothing you wore and just utterly adorable to him.

Knowing that gave him… fantasies.

Wanting to see all of the things he could buy for you to wear for him. Dress you up almost like his own little doll and get to show you off to anyone who’d look, only to have the pleasure of threatening them to do more than take one good glance. So delectable, squeezable; but for him and him alone. You were the princess Simon didn’t realize he wanted and unlocked this strange and insatiable urge to spoil the fuck out of you with every pretty pink or glittery thing you could wish for, just so he could take you home and watch you try it all on for him while sipping a bourbon on the couch.

Fuck… There wasn’t a better way to spend an evening. Well, almost.

Perfect didn’t count unless he got to see you under him, laying back on pink silk sheets you’d been adamant about buying for his house, watching your eyes roll back with every moment he made. Damn if he couldn’t make it more than fifteen minutes without needing to calm himself down, before needing to put you on your hands and knees so those pretty little fucking faces you made wouldn’t make him finish before he got started. If he was lucky he could leave hot and pink handprints on your ass for making him feel so good. Simon knew you weren’t sheltered. But to him you were still innocent. Kind in so many ways he didn’t comprehend or believe was humanly possible. For fuck’s sake, you allowed him to come into your life.

Him with his scarred hands, bullet holes, shitty disposition. A man who preferred destruction and death for it’s permanence and certainty. Simon, with his need to hide his own face and go by a name that lacked humanity. All of him starkly contrasted you in so many ways it made him spin with confusion and oftentimes guilt. Questioning why he’d been so weak as to touch you in the first place. Allow himself the chance at someone so full of life who could see the world -literally- through rose-colored lenses.

Yet you brought forth happiness and fulfillment that the soldier hadn’t found in his years of searching desperately for a purpose. He found someone he could visually see, and palpably touch who hadn’t been torn down or beaten into submission in one way or another. Sweet and innocent you had found such a simple yet powerful way of living life the way you wanted to. Ghost felt like he could protect you. Not only in the genuine aspect of loving you so much that he got physically ill at the thought of losing you to anything; but also because you were so full of life and love to give to everyone around you. He needed you. Selfishly. Then again, there needed to be more softness and genuine innocence and happiness too. And so long as he was alive and breathing, he’d always make sure you were safe.

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[fallbhind]

NOTES .ᐣ smexy bot release :3.

GROTESQUERIE

‘ do better. , in all honesty, you found father mayhew at the wrong times, either when he was in his oh so sinfully tight red tank top, or when he would just get out of the shower, seeing his ass nine times out of ten. but if at all any constellation, you had to get this paper reviewed for the blog that was featuring the case you were helping a dective with (REQ).

OUTERBANKS

‘ not like him. , (s. cameron). your a pouge. she's a kook, more like a wanna-be-pouge in your eyes, but she knows you hate rafe as it is, and seeing another product like a mini-rafe without all the attitude and drug-crazed personality, you still have your off days that typically lead to arguments and such, no matter how hard she tries to get it through you thick skull that she's not like him.

‘ got me a quiet one , (j.b. routledge). as john b was diving into the world of dating, he managed to find you, after all, opposites do attract. you'd rather find yourself reading a good book, curled in blanket, rather than hunt for treasure. despite your indifferences with the activities you enjoy he always finds time to let you read while he rambles on about his latest adventure.

‘ sharing is caring. , (rafe &&. barry) (shadowbanned, i tried four times to get it public-public but m fraid it wouldn't let me). often finding yourself stuck between your drug crazed friend (occasional hookup) and his drug dealer, when you're sat in between then, you find out the true meaning to what sharing is caring as the subtly do lines off you, both taking up a thigh.

SHAMELESS

‘ sugar baby. , being fiona's sugar mommy is one of the hardest task there is when it comes to her, dealing with her not being able to accept it to her always dressing scrapy, typically with holes in her clothes due to how much she's worn them, to you spoiling her and the kids. which of course she finds them really sweet, but coming from how she's grown up, with little to nothing, having to be the parent for her own siblings, she finds it a tad bit difficult.

[dilfl0v3rss]

I give you..

Bsf!Ony who claims he’s, “only friends” with you but will fuck ts outta you the second you start acting out

WAITTTTTT YOU ATE THIS UPPPPP😩😛😩

ony is the possessive type so it’s very likely that this would have to do with another boy. he was at your apartment, eating all your snacks as he watched tv on the couch. you walked out of your room dressed up for your date. “how i look?” ony looked up from the tv, eyeing you up and down before giving you a small nod. “look nice.” he grumbled. he did not approve of this at all. rolling your eyes, you walking in front of him, restricting his view of the tv.

“why you hatin’? you should be happy i’m finally getting a boyfriend.” his jaw clenched at your words. boyfriend? tf you need a boyfriend for when you got your best friend? it’s not like a boyfriend could do any more for you than he’s already doing anyway. buying you stuff, driving you to work, comforting you whenever you needed, and fucking the shit outta you when you wanted. ony was the whole package for you so the fact that you were trying to get a man was a slap in the face to him.

little did he know, you were only doing this to get a rise out of him. you’ve wanted to be with this man since y’all were in high school, but neither of you were bold enough to ask the other out, so you labeled your little situation as being best friends to keep the other from feeling uncomfortable. “these niggas not good for you suge. they can’t protect you like i can.” you rolled your eyes at the stupid nickname.

since your parents liked to call you sugar when you were little, ony decided to use the name as well, sometimes shortening it as suge. “boy the only reason you saying that is because you scared the last three off with those stupid guns.” a smirk planted itself on ony’s face, grills peaking from behind his lips as he stared up at you with low eyes. “if they running from this then who knows what else they gon run from. feel me?” he lifted up his shirt to show you his glock 19 tucked in his waistband.

you couldn’t help but get a little wet at the action, eyes glued to his inked torso and chest as he kept rambling about how pussy the guys you fuck with are. “you see sum you like mama? see you drooling a little over there.” long fingers gripped the bottom of you face, pulling you towards him for a kiss. you quickly pulled away before walking back to your room. “no. i don’t ‘feel you’ and i wont be feeling you for awhile. gon start saving this pussy for my new man.”

his head snapped towards you before getting up and following you inside your bedroom. “the fuck you mean ‘saving’ my pussy? you not giving it away. must be crazy.” ony laid on your bed, tank top riding up his toned stomach as he leaned on his elbows. is this nigga crazy? tf he mean “his pussy”? last time you checked yall wasn’t dating so this pussy belongs to nobody but you. “wanna bet?” you didn’t notice you were voicing your thoughts out loud, but you still didn’t back down. “boy please. you know better.”

“f-fuckkk ohhmygoddd.” you were face down in the sheets, strong hand in your hair as the other was at your lower back. ony was beating your shit in, thumb curved into your puckering hole as he fed you quick deep strokes in your pussy. the date you were supposed to be on long forgotten as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull. “who pussy dis is mama?” squelching noises could be heard from all the way in the living room as he continued pounding away at your pussy.

“mmits ursss onyyy.” his heavy hand moved from your hair to leave a hard slap on your ass. the skin instantly heating up from the contact. “say my name right baby. who’s is it?” his pace grew as well as his anger. body roughly jolting, wrinkling up your sheets to the point where they were snapping off your mattress. “it’s y-yours daddy. it’s a-alllll yours fuckkkk.” you moaned. ony couldn’t help but smile, taking his thumb out your backside so he can kiss up your back.

you were his and his alone, and until you understood that he was going to fuck you as hard as he could to keep you from even thinking of going anywhere with another man. his mouth stopped right next to your ear, breathing steadily as if your tight pussy didn’t phase him at all. “that’s right mama. this daddy’s pussy.”