#sweet!reader

[klausysworld]

Can I get some fluffy Klaus headcanons where he’s dating someone who cooks/bakes? Not as a career, but as a hobby 

Klaus and his little baker girl:

When Klaus met y/n she didn’t know that he was a hybrid. She found it odd and somewhat worrying with how little he ate and often cooked or baked things for him whenever she saw him.

She knew her food was good, she’s had many friends and family members tell her so and so if he didn’t eat her food then she knew something was wrong.

Thankfully Klaus has good taste in all senses and nearly licked the plate clean.

He could see the glint of relief in her eyes and the warmth that spread through her when he told her how delicious her strawberry tart was and it made his heart swell.

It was clear to Klaus that this was y/n’s love language, giving to him and caring for him.

Klaus wasn’t used to walking in to a warm meal and a smiling face each night.

Every night he made sure to stop at y/n’s knowing she would have something ready for him no matter how late he showed up. He found that since knowing her, he felt hunger for something other than blood but instead for actual food and for her presence.

No matter what she was making: a stew, a roast, a steak, a pasta dish, a fish dish, something savoury or something sweet. Whatever she served him, was always delicious. And he always wanted more.

He wasn’t sure where she got all the time from to bake him his shortbread, brownies, angel cakes and other little treats. Between him being at her house and her being at work while he’s amongst a war, he didn’t know how she managed to find the time for her hobbies. But he was thankful she did nevertheless.

Klaus was certain that if he weren’t supernatural then he would’ve had diabetes from the amount of sugar she fed him. At one point he questioned if she was trying to ‘fatten him up’ to which she laughed and offered a ‘maybe?’ back to him.

He loved how sweet she was, so soft and innocent in the best of ways. Her biggest worry was that he didn’t eat enough and her main wonder of each day was what she would cook for dinner.

And when she accidentally found out he had a big family, her first thought (after getting upset that he didn’t tell her) was to invite them all for dinner. He was very reluctant but he couldn’t tell her big eager eyes no, not when he knew it was something she would love.

So after a lot of threats and physical fights, Freya, Elijah, Kol, Rebekah, Hayley and Hope all arrived at miss y/l/n’s home along with Niklaus of course.

She had made a mix of foods for them so they could pick what they wanted and made some simpler dishes for young Hope as the fancy foods didn’t appeal. It was something that instantly made the Mikaelsons like her and also have them all see the love shine in Klaus’s eyes. True, pure love.

It was the first of many things the mikaelsons would try from y/n.

Once she became a frequent visitor there and they came comfortable at hers, they were almost always snacking on something.

Elijah had a craving for cobblers and crumbles, Freya had taken to anything with strawberries in it, Kol went for anything in sight and Rebekah wanted to try everything at least once. Meanwhile Hope and Klaus were slowly learning some of y/n’s recipes and Hope was making slight alterations to make them more to her liking.

Often Klaus would notice y/n adding a cake to Hoped lunch box and sneaking out of bed early to set the breakfast table.

If she were to ever miss a meal then every mikaelson was on alert thinking she was missing.

If she didn’t bake something for a couple days then they were trying to find what was wrong and when she got too stressed and over baked Hope was bringing brownies to school while the vampires in the compound would come and steal a biscuit.

Everyone loved y/n’s baking and her cooking. Many times Freya, Rebekah and Hayley had tried to tell her to open a coffee shop but she argued she like her other job just fine and liked that food was something she did because she loved and not because it was a responsibility.

The mikaelson home was a brighter place with her cheerful smile and loving nature.

Klaus was so much happier with her caring nature around him. So much warmer as a person, whether or not it was the constant sugar rush or the flood of affection, he wasn’t sure but he loved it either way.

[baguettesandbows]

[maybanksbabe]

bunny sitting in a jacuzzi at a party but the water shoots are vibrating through her pussy, her eyes darting around like a lost puppy looking for rafe. the ache between her thighs is growing and she starts grinding where she sits in the jacuzzi.

she tries to shake away the horny thoughts but then she spots rafe who had just left briefly to do business with barry and immediately hops out and drags him to the bathroom.

“woah baby slow down where are you taking me, i still need to finish up with barry”

“please i need you so bad please help me out”

she locks the door and strips out of her bikini, quickly getting shy at the contrast between his fully clothed form and her completely naked body.

“baby” rafe laughs “this deal is really important..”

bunny turns away embarrassed

“..but you know i can never say no to you” he pulls her close to him, not caring that she’s making his clothes damp.

he lifts her up pressing her against the sink “now why don’t you tell me what you want princess huh, you’re so needy aren’t you practically humping my thigh right now” as she squirms in his grasp.

bunny responds with a whine as she grinds further onto him

“that feel good angel?” “god i love it when you’re like this”

🐰.

😫🤤🤤 all that I need rn ngl -

[majinbangus]

You're sprawled on the couch when he comes in the room, eyes zeroing in on you instantly. He doesn't give you the chance to greet him, stalking up to you as if you're his prey. Which, in this moment, you probably are.

It's not hard to tell he's still in that soldier headspace he gets stuck in sometimes. He looks tired. Stressed.

You're about to get up and ask him what he wants, what he needs, once he's looming over you, but the words die out when his hands shoot out and start squeezing your breasts.

You don't stop him, but you do laugh a little, incredulous. "What are you doing?"

"Fluffin' your tits." He's gruff, both in tone and groping. "What's it look like?"

"That's not how- nevermind." You chuckle and fondly roll your eyes. "Why?"

"Cuz they're mine," he says as if that's reason enough, and you suppose it is.

He let's go to get on the couch with you, batting your legs open to settle between them. The man practically flops on top of you with enough force to push an oof out of your lungs, but you can tell he's careful not to crush you entirely. His arms shove underneath your body, squeezing tight as he nuzzles his face against your newly fluffed breasts. You bring a hand up to scratch the back of his scalp the way you know he likes, and he sighs, melting into your body.

"Just like a big baby." Your chest bounces with silent laughter, and he gives a little sleepy warning nip to your clothed breast.

"Stop gigglin'. Tryna nap."

You almost laugh harder. He's not dispproving your point, but if this is what he needs, who are you to deny him?

"Alright, alright, I'll let my soldier rest." You calm yourself, softening your voice. "And I'll be here when you wake, too."

You know you're forgiven when he grunts and presses a kiss to where he bit.

[freakrenaissance]

Oof...I voted for the wrong thing! 😆 I am already loving this! That mix of sweetness with the darkness...I can feel some delicious filth coming! (I'm loving the toxic bf, too! 🤤)

🍓° 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | Mafia!Ari Levinson x lovesick!reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | fluff, sweet soft!reader, she’s a little oblivious. size difference: 6’8!Ari, he’s a total beefy hunk. neighbours au, a little tumble, stripper!reader, brief mentions of mafia business, undeniable daddy energy.

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | It was a little ridiculous how in love you were… With a single glance, he could make you melt until you’re a pile strawberry ice cream, tied with a pretty ribbon, and sitting on his doorstep.

𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑

𝗪/𝗖 | 2.45K

𝗔/𝗡 | just a little something I wrote inspired by Melting by Kali Uchis (also where the title is from). this is my first mafia fic but there isn’t much detail since this is a real itty bitty au. as always, all mistakes are my own. [all posts/asks]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

˗ˏˋ𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭ˎˊ˗ ⋰˚ 𝐂.𝐄. & 𝐂𝐨. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Time seems to slow when he jogs by, clad in shorts and a loose tank top with sweat seeping through the grey. His tan skin is covered in a light sheen, making the dozens of tattoos appear darker. From your seat on the porch, they still look like black blobs and lines stretching from his broad shoulders to his hands. 

You’ve never seen them up close, but you have a few ideas of what they might be—a whole page in your diary to be exact. 

Your eyes fall to his muscled legs, firm and thick thighs strain his shorts and just the beginnings of dark ink poke from underneath the fabric. You barely notice the ice cream melting down the cone to your hands, too deep in a daze when tingles blossom from your chest to your toes. A dreamy sigh flows from your lips as the wind flutters through his long brown hair, brushing along his bearded cheeks. 

He turns to you and flashes a bright smile before turning the corner and disappearing down the street. That single glance makes your heart pound ten times faster, and all of your thoughts tangle into one ball of ribbons, varying in colours, prints and lace, but so evidently you. 

If you could, you’d gift him that mess just so he could know how much he affected you without even trying. 

"Oh no!" You quickly wipe your hands from the melting strawberry ice cream but it's useless, the pink stains your white dress and drips down to the ribbon around your ankle. 

It’s almost too symbolic—the pretty pink bleeds all over your ivory clothes, ruining your life just like the fluttering trapped in your rib cage. 

Honestly, it would’ve been easier to hate him, but he was so damn big that you didn’t have any space left in your heart to hate him. 

To say you're in love would be an understatement. In every fantasy and daydream, he's the main focus, your co-star, your lover, your saviour draped in silk button-ups and silver rings. Oh, he's everything you've ever wanted! As if you manifested him when you were a young child and wrote about the perfect boy to sweep you off your feet and make your life a living fairytale—everything you scribbled in glittery pen has come true before your very eyes.

You don’t even mind that he and his biker friends rev their engines at three in the morning, but your roommate doesn’t agree, she’s never agreed. 

The front door slams shut and you stiffen, hurriedly flipping through a random page in a magazine and desperately trying to act like you were not staring at his house next door. 

"Did you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, voice already on edge. Vibrant red hair comes into your peripherals, as well as a pair of angry green eyes. 

Natasha groans, setting down her bag on the kitchen counter. "You chickened out again? I need my sleep before I lose my mind. I can’t get any if he and his dumbass friends treat this street like a fucking race track!”

“They aren’t even that loud—and I bought you earplugs.” 

“I am not touching those things until those assholes learn how to be decent human beings!” She rolls up her sleeves and grabs your arm, yanking you from the barstool. 

"Wait! What are you doing!" 

Her heels stomp on the hardwood floor, nearly shaking the picture frames on the walls, “I messed up five drinks today, do you know how bad that looks when they’re my recipes?” She huffs, "he's out there right now mowing his lawn and you're gonna talk to him."

You grab onto the nearest thing which happened to be the couch and clutched it for dear life. “No—you do it!”

"He doesn’t listen to me!" She digs her fingers into your sides making you yelp and feebly swat her away, but you just screwed up big time. “Just try, baby, please! For me!”

That’s the last thing you hear as you stumble out the front door, tripping over the damn welcome mat and tumbling down the stairs. It’s only a few steps, but it stings when your back thumps onto the stone walkway, your poor elbows cushioning your fall.  

You barely catch the engine cutting and rushed footsteps before he appears. 

He stands over you with sweat brimming at his hairline, a deeply concerned expression etched onto his face, "awh shit, are you okay?" 

As always, the air goes thin and you’re under that dumb lovesick spell again. The sun glows around his head like a halo, melting you to the bone, and leaving a mess on the stone in the same shades as your love—strawberry ice-cream pink. 

It’s terrible that you don’t know how deluded your tender heart is.

"You're bleeding," he crouches low, gently examining your elbow, "did your roommate push you down the stairs?” 

"No! No, I-I fell.” Obviously! “But I'm okay." You utter, avoiding the peeping redhead through the curtains. Your gaze lands on his long fingers wrapped around your arm. He’s warm, warmer than you thought. Heat radiates off his body and envelops you like an old friend, familiar and calm. 

"Are you?" He inquires unconvinced, "here, let me clean you up." He leaves no room for protests as he helps you up and leads you to his porch. 

After you sit on the couch, he disappears inside the house before emerging with a large white case. He sits next to you and opens the kit on the table.

"That's a lot of stuff." You note, staring at the packed first aid kit. There are various rolls of gauze, different ointments, and bandages, far more things than your tiny plastic box under the sink. 

Judging by his shiny sports car, and his collection of perfectly tailored suits and watches, Ari lived a very different life than you and you’d do anything to know about it. Your naive heart aches for him so badly it almost hurts. 

“It’s better to be safe than sorry. Can I touch you, sweetheart?” 

You watch him tend to your injury with slow and careful movements, his dark brows knitted in concentration. You’ve never been this close to him, the sudden rush of blood almost makes you lightheaded, but his scent brings you back down. The woody cologne floods your nose, followed by a dash of vanilla with underlinings of musky spice.

“What happened to your other dress?” He glances up, eyes shaded under his thick lashes. 

“Oh… It got dirty.” 

He hums, “what a shame.” He delicately presses down the edges of the bandage. “That’s one of my favourites. It always makes my day to see you wearing it.” 

You swallow down a whimper and clench your thighs, seconds away from dropping to your weak knees. Embarrassment fills your chest, tinged with guilt, “I’m sorry, sir.” The words slip out before you could think.

He cracks a small smile, shaking his head, “it’s okay, just be more careful next time, yeah? Can’t have you ruining the little purple one too, that’s my second favourite.”

Dull thumps hammer inside your head, muffling his raspy voice. You nod silently, digging your sock-clad feet into the concrete. 

You take the chance to memorize his tattoos, from the intricate rose by his wrist following the thorn stems up his arm where they entwined with a heavily shaded skull. Thin script is scattered along his skin, you can’t make out the exact words but they’re in swooping cursive, clinging to his flesh like wet chiffon. 

His arms tighten as he cleans up, the muscles shifting under his paper-thin t-shirt that left nothing to the imagination. Every unconscious flex clouds your head, tunnelling your vision until he’s all you can see.  A small whine sounds from your throat and his eyes flicker to yours, blue as can be. 

“I don’t see you leave very often.” You were either inside or sitting on the front porch with a treat and a magazine, or in the backyard tending to that small garden. “Do you work?”

“I… I did, then I got fired.” The wound was still a little fresh. “But it wasn’t my fault, I swear!”

Ari perks up in interest, although he knows plenty about you, this was strikingly new. Aside from your basic profile, he knew about your past as well, including where you grew up, where your parents lived, and how long you’ve been in this city. 

It was only right to know about the two girls living next to his late grandmother’s house. Curtis insisted since Ari wouldn’t let him stay in the old two-storey home, but instead the house down the street.

He came here to be alone and mourn, but that was hard to do with a cute neighbour always staring at him. Yet he stopped caring after you left a small bouquet of hand-picked flowers on his doorstep and an adorable ‘welcome to the neighbourhood!’ note. 

He forgot how good it felt to be sought after, rather than feared and honoured like a living legend. You gave him that sliver of normalcy with your longing loved-up looks and quick dashes inside when he pulled into the driveway. To you, sweet-spirited you, he was an ordinary guy, not someone with a history coloured in hues of red and dripping all over his shoes, smearing the black ink of his future; an eternity tied to his family’s glory that’s now his. 

“This customer was being so mean and I know I should’ve stayed professional but I was havin’ such a bad day already.” Your bottom lip trembles, flashes of that terrible day flickering through your head, “first I slept through my alarm, then I missed the bus, and my make-up broke in my bag a-and everything was all ruined.”

He reaches out, rubbing your knee soothingly. Poor girl, if it was up to him, you’d never be mistreated. “Where did you work?”

“Venom Vixens.” You sniffle, hoping he isn’t the judgemental type, you’ve known too many people who would humiliate you for your chosen career. “I, uh, I wasn’t one of the girls on stage since I was still new but I liked it there. My coworkers were nice, I got free drinks, and…”

“And?”

“I felt,” you look down at your hands, they were so much smaller than his, “I felt pretty. People go there to look and flirt, and I didn’t mind being on the receiving end of it.” 

Ari wouldn’t mind giving you all of that instead. 

He licks his lips, imagining you in a tiny lace set, the sheer fabric clinging to your figure while you swayed around the dimly lit club. A piece of art in the sea of ogling and drooling patrons, blooming beautifully under the flattery. 

“You liked the attention.” 

You giggle, “Yeah, a lot. Sure, some customers were gross and would say nasty things, but others were nice, real nice—they’d tip a lot and compliment me. Most of them were just lonely, they wanted someone to talk to or someone to spoil.” 

You don’t regret accepting their fawning or expensive gifts, hell, most of your jewelry was from your loyal clients. Sparkly things paired with sweet words were a one-way ticket to your good books. 

“How about your boss?” Ari asks, “how did he treat you?”

Venom Vixens wasn’t only a haven for the lonely or where perverts got their fill, but of course, you wouldn’t know that. You’d have a heart attack if you knew of the shady people who walked in and out of those doors, you’ve probably served a few of them, flashed that bright smile and earned yourself a big tip—unknowingly pocketing the filthy, blood-stained money. 

“Mr. Hansen was very friendly, but everything went through him. If we wanted to change a routine, we had to perform it for him first and get his approval. He said it was protocol.” Ari snorts but you don’t catch it, all too distracted with twisting the ring on his middle finger. “He was nice when you were nice to him.”

“So he must’ve always been kind to you. You’re the loveliest girl I’ve ever met.”

You preen under his praise and nod happily, questioning why you were so nervous around him in the first place.

Ari was a flirt—and you loved being flirted with. 

“Mr. Hansen called me his favourite before he fired me. That was over two weeks ago, and Nat said I could take my time but,” you sigh, “I feel like a bother.” 

He wonders if your best friend would still hate him if she knew he was the reason that her cafe was still standing. Without his ruling over the South district, there would be chaos, and that little joint would’ve been ransacked long ago. 

Did he also call for extra protection because you frequented the establishment? Proudly so. 

“Are you still looking for a job?” He takes your distant hum as a yes, “Do you want to work for me?”

Your head snaps up, your sparkling eyes wide in surprise. 

“I’m opening a new club in a few days and I’ve got a spot left for a performer.” He didn’t, but he had no problem giving someone the boot to make room for you. 

Your mouth opens and closes several times, and the thought of Ari owning a club flies straight over your head. You’ve watched him more than your favourite movie but you still didn’t know a damn thing about him, except that he smokes, liked to work out and alternated between a white mustang and a sleek black motorcycle. 

Oh, and sometimes he changes in front of his bedroom window. 

“You’ll be my boss?”

Say the word, and he’ll be much more than that.

He smirks, gripping your jaw and turning you from side to side, blue eyes flickering over your features, “Sure will. I have a feeling this pretty face will be the main attraction every night.”

Your heart swells when his fingers dig into your cheeks. “I-I would, but Nat won’t like that. She kind of hates you… and your friends.” He adds pressure and your lips pucker, “you’re all s-ho loud wit ya’  bikes ‘n engines.”

Ari bites his tongue, it was either the motorcycles or the blood-curdling screams of the poor soul in the basement. He made a mental note to speed up the process of that soundproof room, he couldn’t have you losing sleep over his business. 

“She doesn’t have to know.” He replies, releasing your face in favour of loosely grasping your throat. Your pulse thumps under his fingers, hard and fast, speeding up as he leans closer, “c’mon, don’t you want to be a star? Get all that attention again and make me proud?”

𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i just love sweet!readers, they're my faves 🥹 and pairing them with big hunky (secretly soft) men is heaven !! i can't get enough !!!!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞! I love you all very much 😚🫶

As always, I hope you all enjoyed this and I’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback !! <3 — ☼ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 ☼

I don’t do taglists anymore. ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐅𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 & 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲: @𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

[sukunasteeth]

Sukuna has never said no to you.

It didn’t matter what the request was, simple or complicated, easy to fix or a days-long job, Sukuna was always at your side, completing the task as fast as he needed to to keep you satisfied. He would love to deny it, you’re sure, but evidence proves time and time again that he puts your needs and wants at the top of his priority list. 

And you were curious how far you could go with it.

The two of you are sitting in your underwear at the breakfast nook, warming yourselves in the bay window while the morning sun starts on the leftover night time chill. It wasn't quite time for breakfast, still too early for the both of you. In the meantime, you sip on your morning brews, preserving the comfortable silence. Sukuna is flipping through the day's newspaper, his eyes are groggy with sleep and he hasn't said more than a handful of words to you yet. He wasn't a morning person.

You were starting to change that.

"Kuna," You call to him, nudging him with your foot from your corner of the window bench.

"Hmm?" He doesn't look up from the paper, but his hand reaches down and grabs your foot, pulling it into his lap. His thumbs start to subconsciously knead at your muscles.

"I want these." You hold up your phone, which you had previously been scrolling through in an attempt to find something ridiculous for this exact moment. You were sure you had found it, something even Sukuna would find unnecessary. 

And yet, he merely glances at your screen, takes in the sight for all of two seconds, and then returns his attention to whatever news article he was in the middle of.

"My wallet's on the counter." He clears the sleep from his throat not sparing a second look. 

You blink at him in surprise.

"D-Did you even see what it is?" You flip your phone around to make sure you were displaying the correct thing. 

Sukuna is frowning before he looks up again, curious at your persistence. He gently cups your hand, bringing it only a minuscule amount closer to examine your screen a second time. 

You were on one of the most luxurious brand’s websites, showing him an incredibly regular pair of panties, no straps, no details, all black- with one of the most outrageous price tags you had ever seen for something so ordinary. 

Sukuna cocks a brow at you over your phone, "Can't imagine you need more panties when you're constantly stealing my boxers. But whatever, hand it over. I know my card number-"

"Kuna," You interrupt him with a surprised laugh, holding fast to your phone when he tries to pluck it out of your hands, "they're a thousand dollars."

He glances back, his eyes focusing lower on the screen where you know the price tag to be. The newspaper in his hands drops down, momentarily forgotten by what he sees. For a moment, you think you've found his limit.

"Wait, are those red one's assless?" He points just below the price, where the recommended products are depicted. "Get those too."

You drop the phone down so that he meets your eyes, which are wide with shock.

Sukuna always took care of you. Always insisted on being the provider of any single thing that you may need; a warm meal, a soft bed, anything your eyes twinkled at that was available for purchase- even if you would never think of buying or owning it. Granted, you never wanted much in terms of material possessions, so you didn't realize the true extent of Sukuna's leniency until now.

It was slightly intimidating, and part of it felt wrong. Sukuna had money, plenty of it, but that didn’t mean he should feel the need to spend copious amounts of it on you just because you could ask him to. He was giving you too much power, it felt like.

You huff through your nose, frowning at him, which only has him tilting his head further to the side in question.

You ignore it, setting your phone onto the window seat and crawling your way closer to him, until you can gather up his face in your hands and lock his gaze into yours.

He glares at you past smushed cheeks, but doesn't make a move to break free of your hold, humoring you. "The hell are you doing-"

"You know you don't always have to say yes to me?"

Now that has him taken aback. His mouth automatically opens for a witty response, but your question seems to have effectively taken the words from his mouth. You can see the cogs in his head turning, and what you wouldn't give to peer inside his mind and hear his thoughts.

It takes him a moment, but eventually that familiar confident smile stretches across his sleepy face. His hands seem to instinctively slide their way up your bare legs until his fingers grip your hip bones, pressing into you. 

He hums, "When have you ever said no to me?"

You scoff, ready to give him a prime example, but end up coming up short. The two of you loved to tease each other with disobedience, but in the end you were eager to give Sukuna anything his heart desired. You loved to please him, it was one of your favorite things to do, in fact.

"You never ask anything ridiculous of me." You remind him, smiling as one of his warm hands slides back down your waist and dips into the pair of his boxers you were sporting that day. 

"You know what's ridiculous?” His voice wraps around your throat, and suddenly has you swallowing past the delicious grip. You're folding into him before you even realize it, at the mercy of his calloused hands. "The implication that I wouldn't do just about anything for you."

You can't help but sigh hopelessly, although it comes out as a desperate noise that pleads him for more. You really were all his, just like he loved to tell you.

"Now hand me your phone." It's a whisper, coaxing you. "I wanna see you in red."

You can’t say no. 

At least it was mutual.

[random-thot-generator]

Soap would hold up your pregnant belly.

You're pretty far along, and the extra weight is putting a strain on your back. It aches something fierce when you have to be on your feet for awhile. Today you're stuck in a long line at the bank.

Of course, Johnny notices the way you're rubbing at the small of your back, so is quick to help relieve the strain. Stepping behind you, he pulls you against his chest, then wraps his arms around you, big hands cupping the underside of your belly to gently lift it up. You instantly relax into his embrace, sighing in relief.

"Feel better now, bon?"

"Yeah, so much better."

He kisses your temple. "I'll give ye a good back rub when we get home."

You smile. "That sounds good."

"Aye, especially if yer naked."

"Johnny!"

[simonbrain]

love the idea of reader just trying to fuck all her stress out with a random at the bar before returning back to her mundane life, and simon deciding he's going to keep her instead 🙂‍↕️

the prick doesn't budge when you try to kick him out; instead, he drags you back into bed and works his mouth to loosen you up again, and now you've forgotten why you were trying to haul his ass out of your home.

(you attempted to sound stern while telling him to get out of your house, but he merely chuckled, the sound so raspy and condescending that it stroked a heat within you that you thought was sated last night.

"this is our home. now get your arse back in bed, i'm fuckin' hungry.")

you had to really fist at his hair to pull him off of you, and that only turned him on if the deep groan rumbling out of him was anything to go by—you swear his tongue sunk deeper inside you. he only relented so he could fuck you dumb in the shower after, leaving you with trembling legs and feeling more dirty than clean (atta girl, don't you waste any of tha'—keep it all in).

you blink, and now suddenly you're seated as he spoon-feeds you a nice, hearty breakfast, huffing something like messy girl when toast crumbs get all over your face and the wooden table.

words can't express how flustered you are; you're too stunned to even continue telling the big man who's now feeding you scrambled eggs that he needs to leave. all you feel like you're capable of doing is opening your mouth to accept another spoonful, ignoring the ache you feel between your thighs when you catch his heavy stare and hear a low hum of approval.

then he's leaving (and it's not because of your nagging), muttering something about having to work those mutts to the bone today, all while you're trying to make sense of what's happening. he gives you a sloppy kiss to silence your questions and exasperation, one that makes you feel hot all over and almost melt into a puddle had it not been for the firm grip he had on your ass.

he licks his lips when he pulls back, eyes darting to where your shirt just barely covers where he'd rather be all day than having to go and train recruits. he stares for an uncomfortably long time and before you can speak up, face growing a little hot from the tension, he's turning around to finally leave.

before the door shuts, he says, "be a good girl, ay? see you tonight, birdie."

you're left with your thoughts and feelings of dread and anxiety. there definitely isn't any underlying interest or anything; the freak has fucked your brain out of your head, that's all. you're sure he didn't even mean it anyway. maybe. hopefully.

a drop of his come rolls down your thigh, and arousal shame burns through you. since when did you let one-night stands finish in you?

(your so-called one-night stand came home hungry and pissed, so worked up that he dragged you over to the nearest surface and played with you for a good hour. by the time you had half the mind to tell him about the dinner in the oven—your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets at how much money he had sent you for groceries earlier, nevermind how he got ahold of your account details—he grunted and finally gave your poor pussy a break, scarred mug all slick and flushed.)

good luck when he takes you to meet his mates at the bar a week later, the same bar you brought him home from; the comments from them make you wish a hole in the ground would just swallow you right up.

"pretty thing ye caught, lt," johnny grins, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. he's a bit over the top, ogles your chest too hard, but overall he's... alright. you'd probably notice how perverted he really was if you actually looked at him longer than a few fleeting glances, but his stare is kind of unnerving.

kyle—perfection personified—hums in agreement, a warm smile on his face that puts you at ease. somehow you don't pick up on the ulterior motive behind his gaze running over your body, eyes roaming over your chest more discreetly than johnny but just as appreciative. "pretty indeed. you don't mind sharing, do you ghost?" kyle teases, pretty eyes glancing over at simon, who only huffs at that and shakes his head (much to your confusion).

who the fuck is ghost? you only know big guy and simon.

there's a deep chuckle and your focus flits over to the man seated in front of you, captain john price. if you thought simon was scary, john's a man who demands respect and attention just by being in his presence. "you chose the wrong dog to bring home," john hums, voice deep and gravelly and making you shamefully squeeze your thighs together.

"but that's alright, sweetheart. you have three others now, yeah?" the purr that comes out of his mouth is sinful, and when you nod and stammer out a yes, sir as if you were one of his soldiers and not the sweet girl that simon has brought to his captain, looking for approval of his newest toy, he only smiles.

simon's hand squeezes your thigh underneath the table, trailing upwards, and you're slowly understanding what it is that you've gotten yourself into.

[devil-in-hiding]

Price was going to lose his mind. Sitting at his desk, watching you sort through his calendar

your perfect lips wrapped around that god forsaken sucker you picked up on your way back from the shops, popping it between your lips without a care in the world

like you weren’t actively driving John up the fucking wall

“Sir?” His eyes snap to yours, doe eyed and oh so innocent as you tilt your head “did you want to keep your meeting with Nik on the fourteenth?” You ask again, popping the sucker out of your mouth and he digs his nails into his thighs as he watches the way your tongue runs across your bottom lip, bright red against flushed pink

[mammonsrockstargf]

“Whatcha doing?”

“I’m hiding,”

...

“Can I join?”

It looks comical, the way Mammon tries to fit inside your closet as well. There’s barely room for him, but somehow he manages to squeeze his long limbs into the small space. Once he’s sat, he turns his head slightly to look at you.

“Who are we hiding from?”

His blue eyes practically light up the place, and you can feel the heat radiating from him. Tentatively you inch a little closer and he opens his legs so you can slot between them, your back against his chest. You lean into the embrace, letting him wrap his arms around you. You can feel the beating of his heart next to your ear.

“I don’t know,” you mutter. You watch the wall of the closet, eyes trailing the curves and patterns of the wood. “Everyone,” you say.

Mammon hums. He presses a gentle kiss to your hair. You grab a hand from your waist, deciding to play with his fingers instead. In difference from his usual white, they’re painted the colour of your eyes. Yours matches with a mix of blue and yellow. All stolen from Asmo of course.

(He let you steal them. Mammon was not very discreet. You had to make up for it with a spa day the next weekend.)

Slowly you interwine your fingers with Mammon’s, leaning back to rest your head on his chest and closing your eyes.

“Were ya hiding from me too?”

...

“No, I would never hide from you.”

[the-raindeer-king]

The quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

That's how the saying goes. You never realized just how true it was until you started working as Captain John Price's assistant. It had started off innocently enough, bringing him a tea or coffee when he asked. Maybe scolding him whenever you found out he skipped lunch.

You had been baking brownies, trying out a new recipe, and you just needed someone to taste them (and maybe help you get rid of the batch if need be). So, you brought them to work, left them in a pretty box on Price's desk when you dropped off his coffee.

You certainly hadn't expected the rest of the task force to come around to your desk, begging to know why you didn't bring any for them. Turn out that not only did Price brag out your baking skills, he's refusing to share with the rest of the task force, despite the fact you had brought more than enough for all of them.

Looks like you're going to have to make more.

[strawberryrnilk]

can u imagine riding Simon and he tells you a shitty joke because he likes seeing you smile and you’re all giggly like

“Don’t make me laugh with your dick in me”

but you actually do love it when he smiles and gets a lil silly too. You throw a couple of bad jokes at him but he has a full arsenal of bad jokes so you’re out matched but it’s okay, you two just enjoy the sweet, tender moment together 🩷

[maybanksbabe]

bunny laying with her back against Rafe’s chest and she’s watching porn and she’s touching herself while rafe plays with her tits

🪸

ANON IVE MISSED YOUR THOTS 🥵🥵

[majinbangus]

You've always wanted a dog. It doesn't matter what kind, you'd be happy with any, but no matter how much discussion, Soap never budges, holding the exact opposite opinion about dogs. Which you understand given his experiences with them, but it's still a little disappointing.

Until he compromises one day under the condition he gets to choose the dog. Specifically a guard dog, in his words. One he's known and worked with multiple times. One he trusts to take care of his sweet lass. One that will protect.

You get so excited, you buy the collar and everything, eagerly waiting the day Soap is coming home with the dog... only to be confused when Ghost walks in behind him, no dog in sight.

"Uh, hi, Simon?" You peek around the man. Perhaps the dog is hidden behind the man's massive frame. It's not. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?" You shoot Soap a confused look. "And where's the dog you promised me?"

Soap chuckles at your confusion. "He's right here, sweetheart." He pats Ghost's shoulder, and the man takes one big step closer to you, closing the gap within that single stride. The shadow he casts somehow makes him look larger. "You said you'd be happy with anything, and I got you the best one! Ghost'll do anything you say—sit, stay, attack—you'll love him!"

You're not quite convinced. Can't lie and say you're not a little disappointed, but all thoughts of dissatisfaction are briefly forgotten when Ghost reaches down to grab your wrist, the one loosely holding the leather dog collar in hand, and undoes the buckle for you. He then guides your limp hands to slip it around his neck, adjusting it perfectly before letting your hands drop. When he pulls away, a shiver runs through you at the hungry gleam in his eyes, smirk evident in his voice.

"Woof."

You gulp. Maybe Soap is right. Maybe you will love him.

[milf-murdock]

Simon muttering "what have you done to me?" when he realizes he’s in love with you.

Maybe it's the first time he catches himself draping a blanket over your form after you accidentally fall asleep on his lap.

Maybe it’s the first time he finds himself hurrying home after a mission because he just can’t wait to see your face.

Or maybe it’s the first time he catches himself eyeing a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the shops. “Ten fucking quid for flowers? Are they mental?” He sets them down with a huff and walks away to finish his shopping…only to begrudgingly grab them anyways on his way to the till.

He knows they will make you smile—that bright beautiful smile you seem to reserve just for him.

And as he sets the soft pink bundle on the checkout counter he can’t help but mutter aloud, “what have you done to me?”

[suguru-getos]

Imagine you have a four year old daughter with Suguru and she hears her dad yelling/angrily talking to someone in the cult/whatever. Something which just pissed Suguru off.

She breaks a vase and you rushed to her, “Oops- sorry mommy, I- broke it. Didn’t mean to..” your daughter has Suguru’s hair falling on her face as she pouts. You of course kneel down and smile, nodding gently. “It’s okay sweetie, I’ll tell Daddy and he’ll fix it.”

The facial expressions on your daughter’s face change a little, pouting and almost quivering as she hugs you. “Mommy please don’t tell Daddy I’ll never do it again.”

Now you have NOT a single clue why her favorite person in the world is someone she’s getting scared of. “Why baby?”

“Cus Daddy’s gonna get mad-” Suguru has never once been mad at her, or you in front of her, despite the arguments you might have.

That was the day Suguru stopped talking on the phone with anyone who can piss him off 😭