#you can probably tell this was just quickly scribbled

[dogwithrabies]

【★】 Wanderer SFW and NSFW headcanons

【☆】 Bullet list format with some scenarios included. Written with a gender neutral reader in mind but has a AFAB anatomy section at the end, word count: 2.7k

honestly, i could go on forever, there's so much i love about him i could never fit it in one post.

This is not proof read!

Starting off with the fact that it would probably take him SO long to realize he’s caught feelings and even longer to accept them. It’s a ridiculous predicament he’s found himself in. The Wanderer is a yearner at heart, but he also carries a huge amount of baggage.

Realistically?

It’d take him years.

And even after he’s sort of accepted it, it won’t be smooth sailing. It’s still complicated for him, yes, he likes you, now what? You make him feel all sorts of things and it’s so frustrating. 

He always finds himself making excuses to linger around you, and even then he acts like willingly spending time with you is some sort of atrocious torture. Always complaining and huffing. You don’t take it to heart as it’s very evident this is just a self-imposed hostage situation, he could leave anytime he wants; he simply chooses not to.

So you decide to spare him and not call him out on it (for now).

Despite yearning and wanting, he has no intention of making the first move. It gets to the point that it’s painfully obvious to anyone around him that he’s got a soft spot for you. But he won’t budge, even if the traveler or Buer tease him relentlessly.

It’s sort of his last resort, if you don’t reciprocate his feelings then he can rationalize it as another instance of the human nature disappointing him. Just another reminder to not trust again.

Alas, it all flies out the window the moment you (metaphorically or literally) corner him. It’s kind of funny how little resistance he puts up, despite his aversion to touch he never pushes you away (another example of his favoritism).

Pretend to fix his hair out of his face, play with the ornaments of his clothes, accidentally sit too close to him, it all leads up to the moment where everything escalates. 

Grab him by the waist and drag him close to you, tease him with what you know he craves just to let go. It’s an utterly unnecessary dance around the obvious but his reactions are just too cute, the way his face turns an absurd red color while he fights his hands from reaching and holding onto you.

Frustrating.

(note: overdoing it will make him think you’re just toying with him, he already feels like some sort of pathetic damsel in distress in this predicament, so please spare him).

He tries to psych himself up to reciprocate your touches (or do the unspeakable, initiate them), he always chickens out at the last second, but this time, his hands move faster than his brain can think and he finds himself pulling you back in.

It’s instant regret that fills him as he cringes at his own behavior but you quickly shut it down by kissing him.

It’s messy and unpracticed on his end, and it even took him a second to process it and reciprocate.

The label of your relationship is never stated outloud, you’ve been chasing each other for so long that it goes unspoken.

He starts inviting himself in your spaces now, the kiss left him with a whole new level of yearning. He never outright tells you what he wants, instead, he leaves a trail of undecipherable hints.

The sound of scribbling of pens and shuffling of papers fills the air as you work away at some unimportant receipts. He sits behind, you boring holes in your back by the amount of glaring he’s been doing. He’s here, he’s available, and you’re completely ignoring him in favor of wasting his time on some frivolous documents.

When he scoffs for the nth time you finally grace him of your attention.

“What?”

He’s almost caught off guard when you acknowledge him, quickly regaining his composure to shoot a glare at you.

Okay, so it’s another challenge of his.

One that he hopes you’ll pick up, because why be upfront with his desires when he can just throw at you a puzzle and watch you struggle to solve it? (one that he himself wants you to solve, and fast, don’t make him wait).

You calculate your options, ignore him until he gets so frustrated he confronts you (or leaves), or up him at his own game.

So you make a show of getting up from your spot and plopping down next to him, so close you’re squishing yourself in his side. He looks at you with a puzzled look as you embrace him with one arm, pulling him close and ensuring he doesn’t try to make a run for it.

“What’s wrong, my dear Wanderer?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He responds bitterly, refusing eye contact, the slight red on his face betrays him. Cute.

“Awh”, you move your arm down to his waist, “I’m sorry I neglected you, how can I make up for it?” Your tone almost hints at something more suggestive, he wants to shoot back with a snarky remark but he’s so out of his depth that he just stares at you.

He wants, he craves, but…

You let out a breathy laugh, “If you want something from me, you should just tell me.” You finish the sentence with a kiss on his cheek and start retreating to get up, but he stops you.

“Stay.” He looks conflicted, like he’s fighting himself to speak up.

“Okay,” you sit back down and face him. “What else?”

“...Kiss me again.”

And you oblige.

The progress is slow, but it’s there. His selfishness will always win.

It can be insanely difficult to navigate sometimes, you’re the first human he willingly subjected himself to romantically and just the thought of sharing you with other people is gut wrenching. The way people look at you when you’re out and about, the friendly touches and hugs, it all just drives him a little bit insane.

He hates feeling like this. It’s those times he disappears for hours, just mellowing in his own feelings.

It takes a LOT of reassurance, he wouldn’t outright tell you but it’s sort of obvious. Lots of (involuntary) tears. He wants to trust you, but his emotional walls are incredibly thick.

With time, he improves a lot. He has taken his whole redemption seriously, he wants to be better and be better for you.

You showed him he can rely on you, and trust you. It’s a very scary trust fall for him, but you’re there to catch him.

He goes from reminding you of a tiny feral cat, constantly hissing and hiding to the cutest little kitten. Get domesticated, idiot.

Additional stuff:

He doesn’t do PDA, but won’t stop you from holding his arm or hand.

His love language is definitely acts of service, he loves doing things for you. He cooks, he cleans, he’s a house wife in denial.

For him, words of affirmation and physical touch. He loves it when you hold him, tell him how much you love him and whisper corny sweet nothings to him.

Skin to skin contact is very soothing to him. It doesn’t have to be sexual. he just wants to feel you.

He’s a little spoon, again, loves being held.

His favorite spots to kiss you are on the corner of your lips and forehead.

NSFW starts here:

He is, what one could call, a virgin. lol.

In his pursuit of divinity, he had no time or intention of getting distracted in engaging that way with humans. He knows what that activity entails, he just never had an interest in it. Until now, when he met you.

It’s that sort of unique situation that only a four hundred year old puppet could find itself in, four centuries of self imposed abstinence thrown out the window the moment you pop up. It starts innocuous enough that he can rationalize it as simple curiosity, but before he can realize it, it all spirals out of control.

He’s spent long sleepless nights trying to ignore the very obvious tent in his shorts. He never had the inclination to masturbate before, he tried to ignore it the first times, waiting it out staring at the ceiling until he had enough peace of mind to rest a bit.

And then you appear in his dreams. He is beyond frustrated now, how dare you infest his mind even when he’s unconscious? And so he finds himself reaching down to free his aching erection out of his shorts. He doesn’t want to, but maybe if he gives his body what it wants he can finally move on. He grabs himself with very inexperienced hands and tries to get it over with as fast as possible.

Images of you pop in his mind, he wants to be ashamed of where his thoughts are going but he finds it incredibly hard to when every picture of you makes him twitch and leak in his fist. He wishes it were your hands instead of his stroking him to completion, but perhaps it would be too much for him, and just the mere thought of that makes him spill on himself, making a mess of his hands and shorts.

Utterly shameful.

With you in the picture, he just doesn’t have the will to deny himself any longer.

He wants your hands on him, bite him, or scratch him he doesn’t care as long as they’re on him. He doesn't want you to know how desperate he is, but it’s kind of impossible to hide how hard he gets every time you hold him and kiss him.

You make the first move, dragging him onto your lap and sneaking your hands on his thighs. He wants to complain about your man-handling, but your hands are teasingly close to his bulge. A tiny voice in his head is screaming at him to leave, save whatever little dignity he had left and not engage in “filth”. But he’s also thinking with his other head, and he blames you for it, so why don’t you do your due diligence and take care of it?

He’s already squirmy and you haven’t even started. He’s used to pain, to harsh hits and blows, but you cradle him so delicately and he doesn’t know how to act.

He’s imagined this scene several times, your hands on him, stroking him to completion, but he’s woefully unprepared for the actual thing. Your hands are impossibly soft, spreading his pre-cum on his whole length to facilitate the movement.

He wants it to last forever but he finishes embarrassingly fast, making a mess of your hands and clothing. 

You figure this is the end of your first sexual encounter with him, but he never softens in your hand. Yeah, puppet stamina be like that.

Additional stuff:

He’s a whimperer.

He wasn’t even aware he had the ability to ejaculate. He still thinks of it as an utterly useless feature. But he’s also somewhat glad he can, he likes seeing you covered in his spend. 

Also, since it’s artificial he’s shooting blanks. There’s no need for protection.

He doesn’t have refractory periods. He does get sensitive after a climax but he’s immediately ready to go again.

He’s a switch, more leaning on the submissive side. He does have a dominant streak in him, it’s mostly when he’s feeling more possessive, he starts acting on it once he’s more confident.

Kissing gets heated quickly with him. He’s very eager to stick his tongue in your mouth.

He’s very good with his hands and mouth, you had to guide him through it the first times. He’s inexperienced but very dedicated and a fast learner.

Being inside you is his favorite thing. Alongside cumming inside you.

Exploring the sexual side of a relationship can be tricky, and his constitution does make it harder. It’s a long process of trial and error. He also, in the span of 400 years, never bothered to figure out his turn-ons/offs, just to add an additional layer of difficulty to the whole ordeal.

You do know of his past position of power, so it’s no wonder he likes being serviced. Ride him, suck him off, it’s all good to him. He loves how sweet you are to him, taking him so gently.

Despite his doll joints being no longer visible, he still presents seams on his torso. The whole area is very sensitive, kind of an unconventional erogenous zone, but you work with it. He also has very sensitive nipples. He’s a bit sheepish about that.

Speaking of unconventional, he has a thing for choking. He doesn’t need to breathe, so it’s not the lack of air that gets him so ecstatic, it’s more of the act per se.

Marking, he loves hickeys, and his bodysuit covers his neck area so others seeing them is not an issue. Loves being bitten. Not the soft munches, he wants to feel your teeth breaking the skin. He’s been hurt before, to unimaginable extents, to the point where he almost started craving that pain. To have you bite and scratch him in such a carnal and vulnerable context immediately drives him over the edge.

Despite his masochistic tendencies, he’s not willing to do the same to you. He’s sturdy, you couldn’t injure him no matter how hard you tried. But you’re human. He knows from first hand experience how fragile your kind is.

Risk play is off the table, and so is any sort of public/exhibitionism. Alone and secluded in the woods? Sure. But nothing of the sort where people can see. This won’t save him from having embarrassing hard ons in public, sometimes just your presence is enough to get him bricked up. He just won’t act on it.

He has a mean streak, he loves teasing you, edging you, and pushing you to your limits. However, he cannot take even a bit of teasing. he immediately breaks and starts begging you to let him cum.

He’s a crier in bed, it’s cathartic for him.

Has an oral fixation. It works out great for you, he loves using his mouth on you.

His favorite part of you is your thighs. If you let him, he’d spend hours shoving his cock between them. Don’t get him wrong, nothing compares to being inside you, but something about being able to feel you twitch as he fucks himself through the softness of your thighs just does it for him.

Lastly, hear me out pleaseplease

Peg him.

He’ll be a bit put off by it initially.

He’s just never heard of it before. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?

You decide to put away the strap-on for the time being, starting with the basics as to not overwhelm him. Just fingers. You find out he has a completely functional prostate, and it’s your new way of tormenting him.

Don’t let him touch himself, instead, work him ever so slowly to his orgasm by spreading him on your fingers. He wants to be annoyed, to tell you that it’s useless and it’s just faster to let him do the fucking, but he’s hard, and leaking, twitching every time your fingers intentionally brush against that spot, and before long he’s shooting ropes all over his chest.

He’s still a bit fussy about it when you show him the toy you bought just for him. Because there’s no way that thing is going inside him, except it is, and he’s ashamed of liking every second of it.

AFAB anatomy section:

He’s a bit embarrassed of it at first, but he really likes your chest. He likes lying on them, he’ll fall asleep like that if you let him. His hands are always on them, kneading them around or just to feel you.

When you proposed to let him fuck your tits, he had no idea it was a thing. He likes the idea, in theory, when it comes to practice you get to find out just how much he really likes it.

He’s leaking so much it makes him practically slide around in them.

It’s not long before he finds himself covering your chest in cum.

It quickly becomes one of his favorite spots to cum on.

[countlessofvoids]

Went and tried to write down some notes for a very rough concept of a httyd 3 rewrite that I've been playing around in my head lately. I don't think I'm gonna do anything like a fanfic or something because (as you can clearly see) I don't have the writing abilities nor motivation to make full projects like this, but I thought I'd share anyway. I will probably do some updates for this tho.

The choices regarding the warlords are most likely not really clear, but I wasn't satisfied with what I came up so I'm reworking it.

[mcalhenwrites]

Still alive, writing and editing a lot and even drawing (mostly dragon sketches at work). Seasons has some new chapters now... I saw something earlier about writing being something you can hone by doing lots of reading and writing. I wonder when that will apply to me. I've read a lot of books this year. I have almost hit my goal of 90 books, and while a couple are nonfiction and half are comics, the rest are novels. I expect that to increase again, now that I'm going back to the library. (I stopped with the bed bug scare.) Then I'm setting aside time each week to write. I work on stories at work, even if it's mostly just planning. (My laptop is falling apart so I just gave up taking it to work.) Yet here I am, still the same idiot who doesn't have anything appealing enough for most people to read. I can't get 99% of my followers interested. Sales of Geckos have dropped to next-to-nothing. Nothing else I put out there matters either. The fault lies with me. I'm not good enough. After having this stupid blog for 12 years, I want to delete it. I want to delete my twitter account. I want to delete every single account and shut up for good. There is nothing I can offer. My writing is a good hobby for me. I can get pats on the head for doing a little thing for myself. Aww, look at the cute little dumbass adult doing wittle storwies!!! Isn't that silly!!! They're not good, but he's having fun during the process. Too bad he hasn't figured out that not even 39 more years of practice can save what he's handing out.

[euthymiya]

part two

Starting an internship at the company Satoru’s father owns but you don’t know who he is just yet.

He’s annoying. He always comes back from lunch late, lets his phone ring at his desk (that’s conveniently placed next to yours) past the three ring policy, writes emails with silly and immature sign-offs, cracks jokes during meetings, and somehow, despite always finishing his paperwork late, he never manages to lose his damn job.

You try to mind your own business. But you can’t help but feel him slowly grate at your nerves as he acts so unprofessional and for some weird reason, not one person seems to care.

He seems pretty intrigued with you, too, if matters couldn’t get worse.

“Hey,” he grins. You try to ignore the tilt of his lips in amusement as you just barely fight off rolling your eyes.

“Can I help you with something?” You sigh, “I’m currently in the middle of something that requires my full attention, but maybe we could—”

“You really love your office jargon,” he hums, cutting you off with a wider grin, “so dedicated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” you smile tightly. He seems to straighten a little, some sick, twisted form of excitement rushing through his system at the way he seems to get under your skin. “Allow me to use simpler language for you to understand: go away, I’m busy.”

Someone has to stand up to this prick, you think. He puts in half the effort, and somehow, you’re pretty sure your boss has a soft spot for him. You don’t understand it, and quite frankly, you’ll be damned if a lazy, lackluster man snags a promotion before your hardworking self.

“Oh wow,” he snorts, “breaking your strictly professional streak, are you? You must be really occupied. I guess I’ll borrow your stapler later.”

Gritting your teeth, you give him yet another tight lipped smile before grabbing the stapler off your desk and handing it to him. (A small part of you resists the urge to throw it square at his face. Maybe the image of him on the floor with a bloodied nose would make your day a little easier, but then you’re sure you’d be jobless).

“Here you go,” you say with as much kindness as you can muster. (It’s not a lot). “Please do bring it back when you’re done. Some of us actually complete paper work, so the stapler is a necessity.”

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, “don’t worry, I won’t hold your stapler hostage for too long. I wouldn’t want to disrupt the flow of your productivity.”

You watch with wary eyes as he walks back to his desk, stapling some small, tiny note of sorts before walking right back, handing the paper and the stapler to you.

“What’s this?” You raise a brow.

“Some paper work for you to fill out,” he grins, the vagueness of his answer making a vein all but pop in your forehead.

Before you even have a chance to tell him that you most certainly will not be entertaining whatever silly prank he’s playing, he walks right off, sagging into his chair as he does an obnoxious little spin and goes back to typing at his computer. Probably yet another email with a ridiculous ending, you think to yourself.

Against your better judgement, you stare at the note, eyeing the small flap he’s stapled over an index card. You lift it up, quickly scanning over his scribbled writing.

Want to grab coffee during lunch? Check your answer:

▢ yes! ▢ absolutely! ▢ most definitely!

Your eye twitches.

Grabbing a pen, you quickly add a box underneath his (very confident) options, checking it off and writing in neat, pristine handwriting:

▣ not a chance!

You stand, walking over to his desk and ignoring his perked up, excited little smile as you drop the note back on the table and head back to your own desk. A tiny wave of satisfaction weaves through your body when you notice him read over your response and deflate, a small pout forming over his lips.

Regretfully, a small part of you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s actually…kind of cute when his lips are curled like that. But a larger part of you shakes that thought away and cringes internally. It’s a shame his personality ruins the genetic blessings he seems to have been bestowed with.

And you think that’s the end of it—but of course, with someone like Satoru in the office, there’s never the end of anything.

You watch as an email pops up on your screen, opening it only to stare blankly at his name and roll your eyes at the subject line:

────────────────────────

Follow-Up on Submitted Paperwork

Greetings office neighbor,

Thank you for submitting the paperwork. Unfortunately, I couldn’t help but notice that it does not fully align with the outlined guidelines. Could you please provide clarification or revise the submission accordingly?

Thanks a million,

Gojo Satoru :)

────────────────────────

And there he goes again with those obnoxious sign-offs, you think bitterly. Instantly, you’re clicking away at your keyboard as you type back an agitated response. Of course, you really shouldn’t entertain his ridiculous schemes, but something about him gets under your skin enough that you simply can’t help yourself.

You huff in approval at your response as you read it over before hitting send.

Instantly, as if he was waiting, you see his hand reach for his mouse and click on his screen to open your email as his eyes scan over your reply:

────────────────────────

Thank you for reaching out,

Unfortunately, I was unable to fully adhere to the outlined guidelines, as they are not viable in this situation. To address this, I adjusted the submission to align more effectively with a more practical outcome.

Hope that helps!

Your office neighbor :)

────────────────────────

Just when you think he’s given up, he rolls his chair over to your desk, causing a couple of annoyed heads to tilt up and glare at him for the noise before turning their attention back to their work. You pinch your nose as his chair rolls to a stop in front of your desk.

“Yes?” You grit through your teeth.

“Hey, office neighbor,” he hums, “just wanted to clarify your most recent email with you. I’m a bit confused.”

“Which part confused you?” You bat your lashes in faux charm, sarcastically smiling at him as he hums, grabbing a piece of candy from your little bowl of sweets at your desk and helping himself.

Your eye twitches a little at the gesture. Those are for you to enjoy throughout a miserable work day.

“Um…�� he trails off as he pretends to think, “I’d say all of it.”

“I see,” you nod slowly, fighting every bone in your body not to snap at him with a colorful choice of words. “Essentially, the options in your original document did not highlight a plausible set of deliverables, so I corrected them for you with a more realistic one. Make sense?”

“Not really,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to scratch his head in confusion. You want nothing more than to grab those snowy locks and slam his face into your paper shredder. “Could you go over it one more time? I’m still lost.”

You’re just about to lose your patience with him when suddenly, the entire office seems to collectively take in a sharp breath, everyone scrambling to look as productive as possible while a tall, older looking man with suspiciously familiar white hair and blue eyes walks through the office. Something in your brain sets off alarm bells, but you can’t quite completely piece it together what it is about him seems so….recognizable.

“Who’s that?” You frown, scrunching your nose in confusion as everyone straightens up.

“That would be the final boss,” he snorts. You roll your eyes at his word choice before blinking and straightening up yourself.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, voice a panicked whisper as you ask, “you mean the owner of this company?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, raising a brow at you in amusement. “Never seen him before?”

“No,” you hiss, “I’m just the intern! Now go back to your desk before he thinks we’re goofing off, I’d like to keep my job, please.”

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” he hums.

You send him a nasty glare, just about at your wits end as you whisper-yell, “I am going to throw my stapler right at your—”

“Satoru, I need you in my office,” comes a stern, deep voice, interrupting you as you quickly shut your mouth.

“You got it, old man,” he salutes in mock seriousness. Suddenly, your spine goes rigid and your eyes widen. The man walks off with a firm nod as Satoru stands, giving you an innocent smile.

Suddenly, it dawns on you just why he looked so strikingly familiar.

“Did you just call him old man?” You blink, mouth agape.

“Yup,” he winks, walking backwards as his eyes stay trained on you while he heads for the elevator. “I’ll put in a good word for you when he’s in a better mood at home tonight. I think we can discuss the specifics over coffee during our lunch hour, yeah?”

[sweetshuga]

𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 ✧ 𝑰𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

𝒃𝒇!𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔! Begging you to give him head with strawberry syrup drizzled all over his dick. "Please, ma, I really want to try it out—just this once, pretty please?"

𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂. Basically just that Matt imagine with the brownie, but it's Chris who's receiving<3 «𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅»

𝒘𝒄. 𝟣 𝒌 (𝟣,𝟢𝟤𝟢)

𝒑𝒔𝒂. English is not my first language! 𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 (I know this is probably too long for an imagine, but that's alr ×-×)

⚠ 𝑫𝑶 𝑵𝑶�� 𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑴𝑷𝑻 𝑨𝑻 𝑯𝑶𝑴𝑬, 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑼𝑹𝑬 𝑭𝑰𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ⚠

You went to the store to buy snacks and things for a movie night with Chris, your boyfriend. The list was simple, a few bags of chips, sweets and a few cans of soda – preferably Pepsi. Huh? You don’t remember writing that. You stared at the note you had made, an amused small chuckle escaping you. "Sneaky," you mumbled to yourself as you looked at his scribbled words.

𓆩♡𓆪

The moment you walked through the door, Chris greeted you with a peck on your cheek and he immediately helped you with the bags. "Shit, these are heavy, what did you even buy?" He looked at you confused as he set the bags of things down on the kitchen counter. "One too many cans of Pepsi, snacks and ice cream... And strawberry syrup." He raised his eyebrows in surprise, "strawberry syrup? For what?" You chuckled at his expression, "for the ice cream? What else?"

Chris was just about to say something back, but then stopped, closing his mouth and getting lost in thought. You blinked a few times, confused by the sudden zoned out look on his face. "Chris?" You tilted your head slightly to the side, "baby?" He blinked rapidly a few times, finally getting out of whatever trance he was in.

"Uh, yeah, what’s up?" You chuckled softly, a confused grin on your face, "what’s up?" You repeated his words with a confused undertone, "you suddenly just stared at me without talking." He grinned sheepishly, "sorry, ma, ’was just thinking of something." He gently grasped your wrist and pulled you towards himself, "mm, what do you say we cancel our movie night and do it tomorrow instead?"

You hugged his torso, looking up at him with a smile. "Why? Got something on your mind?" He nodded, looking down at you, his hand reaching out to put a few stray strands of hair behind your ears before speaking, "yeah, actually, I do have something in mind, but I don’t know if you’re willing to help me with it."

You smiled softly, "of course I’ll help you baby, just tell me about it." A smile grew on his lips and he leaned down to whisper in your ear, chuckling afterwards. Chris pulled back slightly to gauge your expression, his smile faltered when he noticed your lack of response and he quickly added. "Please, ma, I really want to try it out—just this once, pretty please?"

You chuckled, rubbing his back soothingly before finally speaking, "I wasn’t gonna say no." His face immediately lit up, "oh thank God, thought you’d be put off by it." You shook your head with a grin, "nope, far from it, that’s actually hot you know... wanting to have me suck you off with syrup all over your dick, honestly turns me on." You admitted, unapologetically grinning.

Throwing his head back as he laughed, and a few giggles later he looked down at you again, the grin on his face still present. "You’re a weird one, but then again, I’m the one that suggested it." He leaned in closer and left a soft peck on your lips, "alright, let’s see if it’s as hot as our imaginations."

"Oh fuck, just— just like that." He breathed out encouragingly, moaning lowly as you took him in deeper. His hand rested on the top of your head – not forcing or guiding, just resting there and occasionally caressing your hair. You had tied your hair up, and as much as Chris wanted to just help you hold your hair up with his hand, he knew he would be too lost in pleasure to do it properly so he let you do your thing.

You pulled his length out of your mouth with a wet pop and drizzled more strawberry syrup on it before flattening your tongue, and licked a stripe up the underside of his cock. The feeling of him twitching on your tongue made you giggle. "Mm, so delicious," you murmured before wrapping your lips back around his tip, suckling on his sensitive head only.

His eyes rolled back briefly at your words and actions, a shaky whine leaving his swollen lips—swollen from making out prior to this. You didn’t give him what he wanted and instead of taking him deeper, you focused solely on his tip—the rest of his shaft getting a sloppy hand job.

He desperately tried to reign in his desire to fuck your mouth, wanting to let you take control for once. You swirled your tongue around his tip inside your mouth. The wet squelching and slurping sounds filled the room. You were thankful that you and Chris were at your place because he wasn’t exactly quiet, letting his voice out which he usually never did.

Chris let out a series of profanities along with a particularly loud whine when you stopped. "W-why?" He choked out, the only coherent word he could say in his pleasure-fogged mind. "No reason," you chuckled before abruptly moving your hand at a rapid speed, gripping his length tightly.

"Wait—fuck, fuck, fu—ck," he cried out, his hips bucking up in time with your hand as he shot out rope after ropes of cum, but you didn’t stop. "S-stop, can’t—too much," he mewled, his hands reaching out to stop your hand, but it was no use. His eyes rolled back as tears of pleasure ran down the sides of his face.

His hips jerked and bucked as he spilled again, the speed and tightness of your unrelenting hand proving to be too much for his sensitive flesh. "Aw, coming so soon?" You chuckled, gentling your touch. He put his hands over his face, embarrassed by the way his hips involuntarily jerked and twitched whenever your hand moved.

You leaned down to lick his cum off his abdomen, and he peeked from the gaps of his fingers. The sight made his cock harden again – already twitching with renewed desire. You looked down and smirked before looking back at his face which was partially hidden behind his hands. He gulped audibly when he saw the look on your face—knowing he was in for a night.

𓆩♡𓆪

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© sweetshuga

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was bruised, hungry and worn out, but as soon as he was with you again, nothing else mattered. You welcomed him home with so much love, like nobody else ever had before or ever would again.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, smut, very hands-on Bradley, 18+

Length: 3600 words

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

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

You were already at work, trying your best to teach your math class with your phone gripped in your hand, when Bradley texted to let you know he was boarding a flight that would land in San Diego just before six o'clock. Tears stung your eyes as you scribbled some problems on the board for your kids to work on while you walked briskly to the back of the room to write back.

I'll be there to pick you up! I can't wait!

Truthfully, you didn't know if you could have gone another day without hearing from him. Your heart felt full now after the brief conversation you had. He was safely back on dry land! He was coming back to San Diego! He missed you as much as you missed him! 

It was Valentine's Day, and more importantly, Career Day was later this week on Friday. You couldn't contain your excitement, especially when he wrote back with his flight number along with a short message

I'll see you in a few hours, Gorgeous. Tell your kiddos I'll see them in a few days.

You watched as your students wrote down some final answers, then you checked them together while butterflies soared around in your belly. You couldn't hold it back any longer after that. You felt flustered as you placed your hand on your forehead and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw wanted me to tell you that he'll be here on Friday for Career Day."

Jayden jumped out of his chair as Oliver pumped his fists in the air. "Can we work on another list of questions for him?" Nia asked as Violet clapped in excitement.

Since that very first package you sent, he had been making this school year even better than you ever expected. "Yes. We can work on more questions for him. Some of our other friends from the Navy will be joining us as well."

"Who?" asked Jackie, eyes wide behind her glasses.

"I guess you'll find out on Friday. Now who wants to write our list of questions?"

When you left your school that afternoon, traffic back to Coronado was heavy, but you didn't mind one bit. You couldn't stop smiling as you made a phone call, ready to beg if needed to so you could get what you wanted. Then you changed into the dress Natasha helped you pick out. It was tight and black with long sleeves and a short hem. And suddenly it was time to pick Bradley up.

You were giddy as you stood on the driveway, unsure if you should take your car or his Bronco. Ultimately you decided to take his so he'd have a chance to drive it if he wanted to. Unless he was exhausted. If he was too tired, you would have no problem driving it back so he could rest. Then you started to feel like maybe you shouldn't have made the dinner reservation. He probably wasn't going to want to go out to eat two hours after getting home from deployment. 

How many times had he told you that he liked the way you didn't mind when he wanted to just relax on the couch and unwind? You groaned as you got in the Bronco and started the engine. When you got to the airport, you'd call and cancel it. Taking him home to a long, hot shower was a better option. Plus you already stocked the refrigerator with so much food, he could eat whatever he wanted for the next week.

There was a ton of traffic getting into the airport short-term parking lot, and you were just pulling into a spot when Bradley texted you to let you know his flight landed early. "Oh, shit," you muttered, heart hammering into overdrive as you pulled the key from the ignition and straightened your dress as you climbed out of the Bronco. 

You rushed through the throngs of people as quickly as you could, looking for the correct baggage claim number. When you located it, you spun around looking for him, but you heard his voice before you saw him.

"Gorgeous!"

So many people were looking at your boyfriend with his booming voice and khaki uniform, but he was staring right at you with a bright smile on his face. You were off and running for his arms, and he scooped you up against him, feet lifting from the floor.

"Bradley," you moaned, and his lips crashed against yours. His heart was thudding against your chest as you tasted his mouth and grabbed at his hair. Everything about him was so familiar, and it seemed like it had been forever since you got to touch him. 

His mustache was rough against your lips and then your cheek and ear. His voice was deep and sweet as his lips skimmed your earlobe when he whispered, "I love you."

Then his lips found yours again as you clung to him. This is what you'd missed so much. Just simply knowing he adored you by the way he kissed you. Any doubts you had while he was gone started to ease away. Big hands held you in place as you broke the kiss to say, "I missed you," voice coming out like a sob.

His brown eyes were soft as he smiled at you. "I couldn't go another minute without you, Gorgeous. I was miserable."

"Me, too," you whispered, kissing him once more as your feet touched the ground again. But you still felt lighter than air as his adoring gaze stayed fixed on your face when you said, "That box of notes you sent me was so romantic, Bradley, but nothing compares to the real thing." 

You dragged your thumb along his scars, body still pressed against his. He grunted as his hand slid down your back to your butt. "Let's go home. So I can give you the real thing." Your cheeks were blazing with heat as you buried your face against his chest. "I wrote you so many notes, Baby. They're in my duffle, just waiting for you to read them, but you'll notice a theme. I missed you like crazy. And all I want to do for the foreseeable future is eat food that doesn't suck, sleep in my own bed, and fuck my girlfriend."

"Bradley," you laughed, letting him walk you backwards so he could pick up his duffle bag. You had one hand around his neck and one on his firm abs as you whispered, "Let's go home."

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

It was indescribable how much better Bradley felt as soon as he saw you inside the airport. And now he couldn't stop touching you. Your voice eased the tension out of his body like nothing else could, and your skin was silky soft beneath his fingers. He had one hand on the wheel of his Bronco and one tucked up inside your dress, resting on your thigh while he drove. 

It was Valentine's Day, and he showed up empty handed which just felt wrong. He would try to make it up to you all week and all month. He'd make it up to you in the form of an engagement ring. How could he not? The deployment without communication was the most miserable he'd been since his mom died. Probably because he hadn't felt so loved since then.

"I reached for my phone so many times to call you before I remembered I couldn't," you said softly, running your fingers up his forearm and back down. "It broke my heart a little bit each time."

"God, Gorgeous," he moaned, squeezing your thigh as he drove into the sunset toward Coronado. He had an actual partner who was invested in him, and he wasn't about to give this up. "It killed me to go so long without hearing your voice. Keep talking. Please."

Your laughter filled the space as he sped up a little bit. "I have all of the letters from the box stacked up in the kitchen. I read them over and over again. And I moved all of my things into your house."

"Our house."

"Our house," you repeated, and he fell in love with the words even more. "I was too afraid to unpack all of it in case you told me Norfolk was going to be your permanent station, but maybe you can help me with that this week while I feed you everything in the refrigerator. Oh, and I made a reservation for Salvatore's for later tonight, but we can cancel it since you're probably exhausted."

Bradley parked in the driveway, yanking the keys from the ignition while you unbuckled your seatbelt. He took your chin in his hand, and you came willingly across the seat so he was kissing you again, rougher this time than in the airport. 

"Are you telling me there's a chance I get to fuck you and then eat ravioli?"

You whimpered as you crawled onto his lap, that little dress leaving nothing to the imagination as it bunched up to your hips. "If that's what you want," you whispered, looking like everything he would ever need. 

His cock throbbed as your body rubbed against his. "That's what I want," he grunted as you sucked on his neck. "I want you to be my Valentine. I want to show you how much I missed you. Then I want us to go out to dinner."

He opened the door and carried you toward the house, not stopping until he had you in the bedroom, fading rays of sunlight filling the space. Bradley watched you pull your dress over your head, revealing that little black bra and panty set you wore for him at Christmas. You kicked off your shoes, and he got to watch you crawl across the bed before yanking off his own boots and following you.

"Bradley," you giggled once he had you on your back, pinned beneath him.

"Say it again. I need to hear you say it again."

You guided your legs apart, letting him rest against your core as his lips skimmed along your jaw. Your voice was soft and perfect as you said his name. "Bradley. Show me how much you missed me."

He could feel your hands on his belt, the buckle clinking softly as you slid it open. You got his zipper open as he continued to run his lips along your soft skin, pausing to lick and taste you, making you moan for him. Your hand was too small to wrap around his cock, but you tugged him free from his underwear and gave him a squeeze that left him seeing stars.

"Baby," he whined, bucking against your palm as you slid your lace thong to the side and treated him to your welcoming pussy.

"It feels like you missed me a lot," you gasped, eyes going wide as he pushed himself into your perfect body.

He could only groan in response until he was fully seated, forehead resting on your shoulder. "It felt like hell being away from you. Can't live without my Gorgeous pen pal."

Bradley eased his hips back, listening to you whimper before he pushed himself deep again. His neck and shoulders were sore, and his bruises were tender beneath your eager fingers, but he didn't stop you from touching him everywhere. He needed you to. He'd been craving all of this for almost two months. You welcomed him back home with your kisses, fingers in his hair as he fell even more in love with the way you loved him. You whispered his name as he fucked you until you were shaking, and you let him fill you with his cum. 

"Gorgeous," was all he could mutter as he was sprawled halfway on top of you, still buried deep as your pussy pulsed gently around him. 

Your fingers trailed through his hair and down his neck as you whispered, "Let's take a shower together." He would have followed you anywhere you wanted to go, but a hot shower with your hands all over him sounded so good, he pulled himself free from your body and started to finally undress.

As his uniform shirt fell to the floor, you sat up in bed. When his undershirt was discarded as well, you gasped.

"What's the matter?" he asked as you got to your feet and ran your hand along his shoulder.

"You're bruised!"

"I'm fine," he muttered quickly, but you were already inspecting every inch of him.

"What happened?" you asked, voice sharp. "And why didn't you tell me about this right away? Before I started grabbing you."

He took your hands in his and kissed your fingertips. "I really am fine, Gorgeous. A doctor checked me out this morning. I just had a rough landing a few days ago."

"Why didn't you say something?"

Your words sounded sharp, but they felt so soft when he let his mind absorb them. "Because the only thing that's going to make me feel better is your body all over mine and your voice saying my name."

You bit your lip and very gingerly draped your arms around his neck. "Oh, Bradley. I'm going to spoil you for the rest of the week."

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

Bradley yawned when he kept you tucked against his bruised chest in the shower, but he was resolute in saying he wanted to go out for dinner.

"We don't have to," you reassured him, placing kiss after soft kiss to his collar bones as you washed his hair for him. "You've been through so much."

"I want to eat real food with my beautiful girlfriend on Valentine's Day," he insisted. "And I promise you, this is the best I've felt since Christmas. Because I'm with you. Besides, you should have seen the shit they served for meals on that aircraft carrier. It was criminal, Baby." His musings were punctuated by his loudly growling stomach as he ran his hand up and down your back.

Truthfully, he did look a little thinner to you, which was awful considering how much he was used to eating. You just wanted to take care of him right now, and he clearly needed a solid meal and some sleep. So you helped him dry off and led him back to the bedroom with his hand wrapped around yours.

"Since you promised to spoil me... will you put that black dress back on again?" he whispered next to your ear, making you shiver.

"I could do that for you." Bradley picked it up off the floor with a smile, and you took it from him as you said, "But you made a mess of my underwear, so I'll have to skip it."

He made a deep sound at the back of his throat that had you excited to go to Salvatore's all over again. You helped him dress in a button down shirt and some black pants, careful about how you touched his bruises, and then the two of you were off. On the drive to the restaurant, his hand seemed to be glued to your thigh once again, but you didn't mind. It felt like you'd gone a year without him, and this was just your reward, getting to listen to him tell you all about how Admiral Simpson showed up in Norfolk and about how lonely he was on the carrier.

"I'm not doing that again," he murmured, parallel parking with one hand. He smiled at you as he checked his blind spot. "I'll just retire from the Navy before I spend that amount of time without my pen pals ever again."

You kissed him as he shifted into park. "You might have a career as a smut writer. I read that one note you left for me, and it was hot."

"Oh yeah?" he crooned, dark eyes sparking with mischief as his hand tightened on your leg. "You liked that one?"

Instead of a verbal response, you just guided his hand up a few inches further until his fingers grazed your bare pussy, and then you climbed out onto the sidewalk like it was nothing. Bradley was right behind you in an instant as you strolled inside Salvatore's as if you hadn't a care in the world, meanwhile your heart was pounding at the way his hand wrapped around you as the host greeted you both.

"Please enjoy the lounge for a few minutes, and I'll find you when your table is ready," he said smoothly while Bradley kissed the side of your neck with his body pressed against yours like the two of you were all alone.

"Let's go," you whispered, voice shaking a bit as you wiggled out of his grasp and headed for the bar. But the room was crowded, and he ended up right where he had been a second ago, leaving you a little dizzy as his hand settled low on your belly.

"You're gonna tease me for the rest of the night then?" he asked, broad chest rumbling against your shoulders and the top of your back.

"Maybe," you replied, trying to play coy even though you wanted nothing more than to feel him touching you just how he was right now.

He kissed the spot behind your ear, and your whole body clenched with need as he asked, "Let's get that expensive as hell wine again." Before you could stop him, he was signaling for the bartender and asking for the bottle by name. "It's my girlfriend's favorite," he said with a chuckle as he magically procured his credit card and handed it over.

You and he drank half the bottle right there in the lounge before the table was ready, and then you finished it in the dining room. It was Valentine's Day, sure, but this restaurant already held memories for you, and this was just adding to it. It was the same wine as last time, but you'd fallen even more in love with this man since then. Your feet were tangled with his under the table while you shared several pasta dishes, and you were so happy he was no longer self conscious about how much he ate around you. He touched you freely, reaching for your hand or letting his palm rest on your leg, and he kissed you sporadically as the meal progressed, knowing you wanted him to.

"I love you so much," you blurted out in the middle of telling him a story about how your class got locked out of the school after a fire drill. "And I'm happy you're home. And I don't want to ever do that again."

Bradley finished chewing his pasta before saying, "Well now you're just teasing me in a different way."

"I am?"

He nodded and set down his fork, signaling for the waiter. Bradley asked for the check and some containers to take the rest of the food home. Then he looked at you and asked, "How do you turn me on and make my heart melt at the same time, Gorgeous?"

The butterflies were back again. "You do it to me, too." You watched him pay the check like it was nothing, and he handed you the takeout containers. "Did you eat enough?" you asked as he led you toward the door and back to the Bronco with one hand resting on your hip and your body tucked against his.

"I can eat more later if I need to. Thank you for making the dinner reservation. It was perfect. But right now, I just want to be alone with you."

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

"Oh, god," Bradley groaned, getting to feel your body gripping him for the second time tonight. It was so late now, but he was full of wine and red sauce and still riding high on the excitement of being back home with you. He felt so loved up and emotional as he held you in front of him in bed and thrust slowly in and out of your pussy as you moaned. He missed being your big spoon.

"I can't wait until you read all the notes I wrote for you, Baby," he whispered, lips brushing the side of your neck as his fingers dug into your flesh. 

"I'll take some of them to work tomorrow," you gasped. Bradley didn't even feel bad for keeping you up past your bedtime as he nipped along your skin and fucked you slowly, just like he promised he would in that dirty note he put in the box. He was savoring you now; he planned on having you a dozen times just like this, all week long.

He slid his hand down to your clit and licked your ear. "I'll pack your lunch and drive you to work and get you coffee every day this week. I'm using vacation time to take care of some things." He wasn't about to tell you what those things were. But you were coming undone at his touch, so there was a chance he could tell you anything at the moment, and you wouldn't even remember. "You gonna cum for me?" he crooned, a smile curling along his lips as you arched your back and whined. "Good girl."

It didn't take long before he was following your lead, and after that it wasn't long before he was falling asleep with his body wrapped around yours, right where he belonged. "I love you."

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

I need them to be cuddly and snuggly and together forever. We've got a few more chapters left of these lovebirds. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 25

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[bountycancelled]

(un)secret admirer

luke castellan x child of aphrodite!reader

tip me on kofi, if you feel so inclined

requested: nope, I'm just currently obsessing over pjo (aren't we all?) and Charlie bushnell is my pookie so luke is also my pookie (what about all the people he murdered– what murdaaaa?!)

warnings: none I believe!

content: probably ooc luke becusse I haven't read the books, I don't know if demigods even nap, I don't remember the movies and he's barely in the show lol, some cuddling, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, also I know demi gods are dyslexic i just dont gaf because i thought this concept was cute, that's all!

a/n: SEND ME PJO REQS! please. also this is short and I'm sorry, I've been having horrid writers block.

"I don't get what the big deal is." Lukes voice could be heard from where he sat on your bed, as you gazed at the piece of paper in your hand, pacing back and forth in your room as you analysed its every minute detail to the best of your abilities. "you get letters from the other campers all the time."

"I already told you Luke. this handwriting isn't the same as any other letter I've gotten, so that means it's from someone who's never sent me a note before, and I need to know who it is."

you had recieved a myriad of letters ranging from 'I think you're pretty' to 'I would sacrifice my right arm just to get a hug from you' during your time here at camp. beyond being drop dead gorgeous, you were kind, always wearing a charming smile on your face, and having the ability to comfort people with your presence alone.

that (coupled with the facts that most kids here had some kind of parental baggage and your kindness definitely filled some kind of void) meant that you recieved many a words from not so secret admirers. you were sure that you knew the identities of the people who had given you sealed envelopes and tightly folded papers, but you were currently stumped.

you were startled out of your staring contest with the scribbled ink by the feeling of Lukes arms around your shoulders as he spoke. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, now can you please come back to bed? you know that I can't nap if you're not with me."

you sighed, letting him lead you back to your bed so that he could rest before you two inevitable of the two of you needing to help around the camp occured. you stared up at the ceiling as he slowly started to dose off beside you, before you gasped and shot up, effectively spooking him out of a peaceful moment.

"it's Percy!" you shushed Luke before he had the chance to complain about your sudden exclamation or the fact that you weren't letting him get a wink of midday sleep. "I mean, he's just met me, and one of my friends probably told him some stuff about me–"

"it's not Percy." Luke deadpanned, pushing you down by the shoulder from the upright postpone you were sat in to make you lay back down, and wrapping his arm around your waist. you were shocked into silence, because although Luke was an affectionate friend, he had never cuddled you while he was still awake. he would always wake up and discovering that he had wrapped around you in his sleeping state, apologising sheepishly while retracting his limbs.

after a few moments of stunned silence, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement. "and how do you know it's not him, huh?" he simply blew air from his nose, tightening his grip around your waist.

"because it was me, sweetheart."

now that shut you up fairly quickly, as you bit your lip to try to hinder the giddy smile that wanted to form on your features. you opened your mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Luke placing a small kiss on the back of your neck.

"we'll talk when we wake up, alright?" but you weren't having any of that. "okay... but, before you go to bed. how long have you liked me? is this actually the first letter you've sent? why wouldn't you just tell me, you idiot. obviously I like you too. I know you said some stuff that you like about me in the letter, but I want you to tell me about everything you like about me, like every feature, every trait-"

Luke chuckled, sporting a big grin as you spoke. he would tell you all of that and more, he would do anything you asked of him, just as long as he got to hold you in his arms just like this.

[sleepy-steve]

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask. 

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map. 

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans. 

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste. 

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process. 

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

[impactedfates]

heyy 😁 so um like I was hoping you could do like a combination of hsr men and genshin men, the reader is their lover who sits on their lap just to pass the time (the men are up to u pls pls include wriothesley and neuvillette if u can 😳😍 tys 💖)

★ A/N: Yep, I don't at all mind doing combinations of both fandoms

☆ Genre/Trope: Romantic

★ Format: Mini Scenarios (Characters Included (Separate): Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Jing Yuan and Blade)

☆ Warnings: None

★ Extra: Wrio + Neuvi might be OOC // Short-ish // Reader is shorter then characters included // Reader is NOT the traveler

The first time you do it, Wriothesley is surprised. Don't get him wrong he doesn't mind having you this close he just didn't expect it is all. He at first isn't too sure what to do in this situation, he still has work to do but you're there on his lap, is he meant to drop his work and give you attention and that was your way of telling him? Are you doing this just because and he can still work??

When he does finally get used to it, I see him continuing with his work, using one hand to write, sign and pick up/put down papers while the other hand is wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he calmly scribbles down whatever's he's meant to.

If you're really desperate for attention though and aren't just sitting on his lap just because he might indulge and pepper your face with kisses, however this is only if he doesn't have too much important work to do, if he does he'll just chuckle and tell you to be a bit more patient.

Neuvillette didn't understand the concept of it at all when you first did it. Sure he knew humans had different ways of showing their love or just different things they do with their partner in general but he didn't expect one of things you like doing is sitting on his lap.

He's often working so he likely marks this as a way for you to be closer to him even in silence, and in a way it motivates him to finish a bit quickly so he can give you the attention you deserve.

Overall, although he may not fully understand what you're doing just knows this seems to be something you enjoy doing with him, and if it makes you happy then he's happy. Just as long as you wait until he's finished work before giving you any attention you may want.

Zhongli also is still learning more about humans but perhaps is more knowledgeable than Neuvillete is. He doesn't say anything when you do it for the first time however he will question you if you continue to do it, wanting to know why you seem to find enjoyment from merely situating yourself on his lap.

When you see you just like it because it passes the time or any other reason, he'll simply chuckle. If you were to ask if he's annoyed by it he'll shake his head no, he simply wanted to see why you enjoyed it so much, after that he'll invite you to sit on his lap a lot more, however more so in private.

Maybe if he's reading a book and sees you coming into the room, he'll gesture you to come towards him and pat his lap with a smile, if you enjoy it so much he'll indulge for as long as you like.

Jing Yuan practically INVITES you to sit on his lap once you did it the first time. Once he knows you like spending your time on it then anytime you're around and he's sitting, he'll tug you over just to take a seat.

He loves having you close to him, his work can wait and he can handle Fu Xuans scolding for the nth time that day, you're way more important to him then any work he has due...however he does eventually need to get it done, but he'll happily do it with you still on his lap if you don't want to get off.

HOWEVER, this will come at a price. Yes, he himself also enjoys having you in his lap BUT he'll also like using YOUR lap as a pillow. So if you want to continue using his lap as a seat, be prepared to have your lap being used as a pillow.

I feel like Blade full on pushes you off the first time you do it. Don't get him wrong, he does feel bad for probably hurting you but he's not much of a touchy guy. Especially if you two were still fresh into the relationship.

He'd much prefer you ask beforehand. Most of the time he'll say no as I see him as someone who needs something to do the majority of the day and he cannot allow himself to relax.

However once he gets more comfortable into the relationship then he might finally agree to let yourself rest on his lap. It might be awkward for the both of you as Blade isn't making any attempts to hold you, his hands at his side but the more comfortable he gets the more relaxed he lets himself become and soon enough Kafka or Silverwolf may find him holding you close.

Hopefully this isn't too messy!! This has been sitting in my drafts as I struggle to find the time to continue writing it sorgipget.

The next post should be a Christmas Special of sorts :> (Hopefully)

[cvntydazai]

the regulars

you catch the eye of two regulars that come to the diner you work at

pairing; dazai osamu x fem!reader x chuuya nakahara

word count; 3.6k

content warning; nsfw (minors do not interact!), threesome, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, mentions of suicide (it’s dazai obv), degrading (dazai calls reader a slut), lowkey meandom!dazai, softdom!chuuya, oral sex (m&f receiving), backshots.., reader is held hostage (not by dazai or chuuya), cursing, unedited writing, probably a lot more

authors note; my first post on here! i’m pretty proud of this!

the diner was almost quiet in the mornings, very few customers and even fewer employees were present. it was usually just yourself and the cook until around noon when the lunch rush hit, but that was okay with you.

it allowed you catch up with whatever hobby you had going on at that moment, this time it was crocheting. whatever online forum that promised you it was easy was lying, you could barely finish the small square you had started.

just as you were beginning to grow frustrated you heard the familiar ding of the diner’s door, alerting you of a customer.

the brown haired man was sopping wet, a dreary gaze in his eyes as he shuffled to an empty table and awaited your service. you jumped to, notepad and pencil already in hand as you approached him.

“i don’t recall rain being on today’s forecast.” your weak attempt at a joke flew over his head entirely.

“oh, it’s not raining. i was trying to die in the river.” the confession didn’t surprise you as much as it should have.

there was talk of a man who was always spotted trying to drown himself, you assumed it was rumors.

“hmm, didn’t seem to work out.” it was the only response you could muster for the bizarre statement.

he opened his mouth to respond but as he lifted his eyes to meet yours he stopped, mouth agape and eyes wide like he had a groundbreaking revelation upon catching your eyes. you cleared your throat, cheeks growing warm from his staring.

“i didn’t realize i was in the presence of someone so beautiful. how rude of me not to greet you with the respect you deserve.” a cheap compliment, but his confidence when saying it was cute.

“what can i get you?” you changed the subject, tapping your pencil to your notebook.

“your number, if it’s available.” with rolled eyes you sighed, he overdid it now.

“let’s start off with your drink, what can i get you?” with a bit more push you questioned him.

“whatever type of whiskey you have.” you hummed, quickly scribbling down his drink and scurrying off to grab it.

when you went to the back the line cook was there prepping for lunch, he only greeted you with a small smile.

his eyes widened when he saw the whiskey you were pouring into a glass.

“a bit early for that, isn’t it?” you snorted.

“it’s for a customer.” he didn’t continue but you could feel his judging gaze.

after delivering the odd man his drink and a bit more bickering you got him to finally order something. just as he was leaving the restaurant got busy so you didn’t have time to wave him goodbye before he was out the door. and that was it, you expected to never see him again.

your shift was usually from open to close, so you swallowed your odd interaction you had that morning and continued on with your day. you got through the lunch and dinner rush without issue and now it was just you and the closing cook.

this was a normal day for you, working long hours and making poor pay. the tips were nice, but did they make up for all the rude customers you face on a daily basis?

you hear the ding of door, it’s ring echoing through the empty restaurant. with 45 minutes until close you wanted to tell whoever was there to leave, but your moral compass fought back with you.

a short man wearing a long coat and a strange looking hat. he was alone, you were thankful for that. you didn’t need a large party right before close.

when he sat down you finally approached him.

“hello, what can i get for you?” he didn’t look up at you, his eyes still scanning the menu.

“just a beer.” a strange request to ask at such hour, especially with a bar being just a couple of blogs down the street. you didn’t voice these thoughts with your customer and instead went to fetch his drink.

when you returned you saw that he was writing down notes in a notebook that he quickly pushed away when he noticed you looming over him. you smiled, setting down the drink and also taking a seat directly across from the stranger.

he shot you a strange look, one that held a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“we close soon, thought i’d keep ya company.” he scoffed.

“how generous.” laced with sarcasm but there was a small smile playing on his lips.

you two talked for only a little bit, you asked him about what he was writing but he mentioned that it was classified, having something to do with his job that he wouldn’t reveal. eventually you both had to go home as the restaurant was closing. you were surprised by just how fast the time had come and gone when talking to the stranger

“i can walk you home, if you want me to.” he offered, to which you smiled.

“i’m gonna catch the late night bus, but thank you mr..”

“you can just call me chuuya, it’s nice to meet you y/n.” he said, his eyes trained on your nametag.

and then you parted ways, that was what you assumed to be the last of him.

thoughts of the two strange men you met today danced around in your head until you finally succumbed to the exhaustion of the day, the exhaustion that would follow you into the morning for another shift.

the very next day, your next shift you were surprised to see the brunette from the last morning. he waved, noticeably brighter this time around.

“goodmorning!” he yelled, motioning for you to come over.

you complied as he took your hands and sat you down beside him. with little shame he flirted, his mouth moving so fast you could barely keep up. you were able to introduce yourself to him and he did the same, he revealed that his name was dazai.

“would you do me the honor of committing a double suicide with me?” he asked for the millionth time, his bandaged hands snaking up your wrists to hold you tenderly.

“you’re cute, but no.” and with that you shook him off, his hands flying back dramatically.

he stuck around for a bit longer, you made sure he had enough whiskey to keep him busy. sometimes you would catch his gaze as you worked and he’d flash you a pretty smile.

but the times when you would look and he wasn’t staring he’d usually be rubbing his finger around the rim of the glass with his other hand supporting his resting head as he stared out the window in deep thought. you couldn’t help but admire the man, he was attractive.

and just like yesterday he left during lunch rush and your day continued on. and into the night you would encounter yet another familiar face.

chuuya sat in the same spot as he did last night, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for you to approach him.

“seems like i have two new regulars.” you muttered under your breath as you made your way to him.

he ordered just a beer again and you once again sat down in front of him to chat. you were lucky he came in so close to closing so you usually weren’t even busy.

you chatted for a bit and then, just like yesterday you both got up to leave and he offered again to walk you home. you would just take the bus again.

this routine of your morning regular and your night regular became an almost everyday thing. sometimes one of them wouldn’t show and it worried you but they always showed up again the next day.

you got to know the two of them well, it occurred to you one day just how different they were from eachother. the only similarity was their love for booze, and how much of it they could drink.

somewhere down the line of this routine you started to catch crushes on both men. how scandalous, you thought to yourself. two men practically drinking themselves to death and you were swooning over both of them. who could blame you when they both gave you that certain look. chuuya more subtle than dazai by a long shot, but the ‘fuck me’ eyes they both gave you didn’t lie.

you shook your head, you shouldn’t be thinking these things about strangers that you barely knew. they were just customers, and that’s all they ever would be.

little did you know, they were both thinking the same thoughts about you. dazai hadn’t been able to keep you out of his head since the very first day you two met, for once he was glad his attempt at suicide failed him because it meant meeting you. chuuya was in the same predicament, he never planned on meeting you but once you hooked him in he couldn’t escape.

the pretty diner girl that has two very dangerous men roped in her smile.

when dazai came in the morning to the diner he was expecting to see you there, smiling and waiting patiently as always, but instead in your place was another waitress. he frowned, sitting down in his usual seat.

when the unfamiliar waitress walked to his table he immediately questioned her,

“where’s y/n? this isn’t usually her off day.” she seemed caught off guard, clearing her throat awkwardly.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know. she didn’t show up for her shift so i was called in, the owner tried calling her but she didn’t pick up.” something felt wrong, he felt it in his bones.

he excused himself, muttering something about only wanting to be served by you. just as he was standing his eyes caught a piece of paper hidden between the ketchup and mustard bottle that were displayed next to the menus on the table.

he took the folded up note and quietly exited the diner.

chuuya would experience the same oddity at a later time that day. he saw a different waitress and spotted the note.

and the note read that they were to both be at a specific location at a specific time.

said location was that of an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. it would occasionally be put on dazai’s radar if he was looking out for stolen goods or missing people but for the most part no one paid attention to it.

dazai arrived early, surprised to see a particular short man already at the entrance of the warehouse.

“what the hell are you doing here, dazai?” chuuya interrogated first, his voice on edge.

“i could ask you the same thing.” dazai shot back, a pout on his lips.

at first dazai suspected chuuya was behind this, but when chuuya explained your description and that he was looking for you he understood almost instantly.

“someone must have been watching us, found the opportunity to take advantage of the situation.” chuuya spoke, dazai humming in agreement.

“well, if i’m stuck with you at least be useful.” dazai said, walking ahead into the entrance of the warehouse with a shouting ginger following behind him.

the exterior looked better than the interior. old construction equipment everywhere with strange stains covering the walls and floors, it was definitely abandoned.

chuuya worried for you, not because he feared that you were hurt but because this place reeked. he could hardly imagine you being here, sitting somewhere in a cold dark corner with a dangerous person holding you hostage.

“someone’s got a lot of nerve to target her..” chuuya mumbled to no one in particular.

“they do, which is why we’re going to take care of whoever did this and get my woman back.” dazai responded, keeping his eyes peered for any signs of you.

“your woman? in your dreams!” chuuya let out a loud laugh that he hushed immediately after hearing what sounded like a cry coming from deeper in the warehouse.

both men sprinted forward, stopping once met with the sight of you chained to the floor with a man peering over you.

he turned to dazai and chuuya, a wide grin on his face.

you could barely see the scene before you, your head fuzzy from whatever the stranger had hit you with to knock you out. you barely remember how it happened, you only recall waking up in the dark with the man who abducted you.

just like before, everything was fading to black, this time your mind at peace now that you knew help was here. you didn’t know if it was the police or whoever, you didn’t care. just being content that someone came for you, you let the darkness consume you.

-

when you came to you saw dazai and chuuya standing over you, yet to see you were awake.

“don’t try to wake her up, she’s clearly exhausted, dazai. let her wake up on her own.” you heard chuuya’s voice along with a sigh from dazai.

“i just want to make sure she’s okay. especially after you carried her around like she was a damn ragdoll.” the brunette muttered.

“what else was i supposed to do? sit there and let that guy shoot at us?” you groaned, the loud noises not settling well on your ears.

everything went silent. both men stared down at you expectantly. you sat upright, wiping your eyes.

“dazai? chuuya? you two know eachother?” it was all you could muster, it made dazai grin.

“unfortunately.” chuuya mumbled, shoving away the arm dazai was trying to lay across his shoulder.

“i’ve got to say y/n, i’m hurt! i thought i was the only man in your life.” you ignored dazai’s dramatics, instead looking to chuuya for answers to where you were.

he explained the entire situation, after they “took care of” the person who abducted you, they brought you to chuuya’s apartment and have been waiting for you to wake up since.

the explanation made you realize just how awkward of a position you were in. you laid on the end of chuuya’s bed with the two men standing over you. you squeezed your thighs together and gathered your thoughts. this was not the time.

“this is a lot to wrap my head around.. why did they abduct me out of all people?” you knew you had been abducted and held hostage but you still didn’t understand why.

“oh, belladonna.” dazai cooed, his hand reaching to caress your cheek.

“they thought to take out our common weakness.” chuuya continued, his palm resting against the other cheek.

they didn’t need to finish their sentence, you already knew. the lingering gazes from both men at the diner, the flirting from dazai, the gentlemanly offers to walk you home from chuuya.

they were wrapped around your finger, they always had been. there was no more denying that fact, they had risked their lives to save you.

“i.. guess i should be thanking my saviors then, shouldn’t i?” a double meaning, they both knew it too.

“mmm, i think so. don’t you agree, chuuya?” the shorter man nodded in agreement.

dazai was the first to move, his hand that was on your cheek drifting down to your shoulder as he eased you further into the bed. you complied, wide eyes glancing between the two.

your back hit the cushioned mattress, dazai joined you on the bed, laying on his side as he peered down at your chest that held your racing heart. you saw chuuya kneel down and spread your legs further apart.

they both worked simultaneously, dazai undressing your top half while chuuya worked on the bottom. the feeling of their fingers grazing your skin left you overwhelmed, completely at their expense.

you were fully undressed in a matter of seconds, the cold air of the night nipped at your skin. suddenly feeling insecure you attempted to reach your arms down to cover yourself, dazai caught them, pinning them at your sides.

“don’t hide, beautiful. let us see you.” he whispered, his words holding authority that urged you to comply, you did.

chuuya’s breath fanned over your exposed cunt, shaky short lived breaths that told you he was just as nervous as you were.

“are you ready?” you nodded, closing your eyes in anticipation.

you felt his tongue make contact with your slit, a constricted moan left your lips out of instinct. dazai’s rough hand grabbed hold of your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes.

his warm brown eyes held a sinister glint in them. he dipped his head into your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin around your collarbone.

the noticeable contrast between the two showed, chuuya’s sweet licks to your pussy against dazai’s rough sucking to your neck. a mixture of pleasure in pain, the perfect balance.

chuuya made work of your cunt, acting as if he’d never get the chance to taste you again. his tongue darting in and out of your hole at a rapid speed you could barely keep up with. his mouth attacked your clit next, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

“chu.. ah!” he added a finger to your hole, curling the digit inside of you to hit the places he couldn’t reach otherwise.

he could tell you were reaching your peak, keeping a steady pace to bring you over the edge.

dazai could tell too, so he pushed chuuya away from you.

you whined at the loss of contact, gripping dazai’s shirt as a weak attempt to beg for more. you caught sight of chuuya, your juices all over his chin. he shamelessly licked the finger that was previously inside of you.

“can’t let him give you your first orgasm, beautiful.” chuuya bit back a snarky comment, instead listening to the painful erection in his pants.

“switch me places.” dazai spoke, chuuya agreed with little hesitation.

dazai was now by your legs and chuuya sitting behind your head. the brunette was quick to flip you on your back and position you just where he wanted. your ass now in the air with him lazily rubbing his clothed erection against your ass.

your head dangerously close to chuuya’s crotch, your shaking hands gripping both of his thighs. while dazai took off his pants you hastily aided chuuya with his.

dazai wasted little time, aligning himself with your entrance. his hands gripping your ass while he began with his first thrust, one reaching so deep he nearly bottomed out. a grunt left your lips, squeezing chuuya’s sensitive thighs as a way to stabilize yourself.

you felt chuuya’s soft hands reach for your hair, massaging your head whilst shushing your whimpers that escaped with each thrust dazai threw into your aching cunt.

once a rhythm was found you put your focus on chuuya’s painfully hard member. his eyes on yours the entire time as he watched you lick the base of his manhood until you reached the tip. he guided your head down his cock, small praises leaving his lips the entire time.

“our pretty girl, being such a useful slut.” dazai spoke, landing a smack on your ass.

you attempted to moan but your lips were occupied, drool escaping your mouth with every thrust chuuya delivered into your throat.

the speed of their thrusts beginning to synchronize, you felt your core squeezing dazai harder. it only encouraged him, knowing you were close to your peak.

it was all so overwhelming, bringing tears to your eyes as you attempted to take it all, to take all that dazai and chuuya gave you.

“so pretty.. taking us so well.” chuuya mumbled, wiping tears that began spilling from your eyes.

he looked at you as if you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, despite your hair being a mess and your eyes being red from tears.

you were all close, that much was clear from the way dazai had began to shut up and chuuya’s silent grunts had turned into breathless moans. you were no better, one hand still resting on chuuya’s thigh while the other reached for one of dazai’s hands.

dazai’s hips sped up, squeezing your hand tenderly whenever he hits particularly deep.

he feels his orgasm creeping up on him, your tight walls leaving him a shaky mess.

he’s the first to come undone, his seed spilling into you with one finally push of his hips. his orgasm setting off chuuya, cumming into your warm mouth with a slew of curses leaving his lips.

you swallow every drop, chuuya wiping your mouth with his thumb before lifting your head up to plant a kiss on your lips. dazai still thrusting inside you, overstimulating himself to get you to your breaking point.

“m’ cumming!” you announced, heat pooling in your stomach.

“let go, belladonna.” and you did, cumming hard on his cock.

the room was filled with panting sighs and beating chests as you all collected yourselves. chuuya was the first to move, scrambling to his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. dazai cuddled you on the bed while chuuya cleaned you off, dazai stroking your hair whilst humming you to sleep.

you refused to let the tiredness take hold of you until both men were in the bed with you. when chuuya joined, you finally gave in to the sleep that was calling you.

you had never slept better, feeling safe in the arms of two strangers who had become regulars in your life.

[thefreakandthehair]

fireplace.

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas | prompts: fireplace and cabin | wc: 969 | rating: teen & up | tags: mutual requited pining, post-canon, steve pov, getting together, first kiss, winter fluff, artist!Eddie, domestic

It was supposed to be a group trip.

After they’d lost their spring and summer to fighting off an apocalypse, and then their fall to nursing their injuries both physical and mental, they’d wanted to get away. Steve, Robin, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie had planned on taking advantage of the Harrington’s cabin just over the border to Michigan, but it fell apart as quickly as it had come together. Robin’s parents booked a surprise trip to France, Karen and Ted wanted to spend more time with Nancy, Mike, and Holly, Argyle’s family wanted him to come back for the holidays and where Argyle goes, Jonathan goes.

It was supposed to be a group trip but instead, Steve finds himself alone in the cozy midwestern retreat with Eddie, his mismatched socked feet on Steve’s lap, and the sounds of his humming as he scribbles something in his notebook.

Steve doesn’t mind— in fact, he feels a little bit guilty because he almost… well, he’s glad that it ended up being just the two of them. He loves Robin, and he’s really come around to Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy as good friends and not just fellow involuntary soldiers forced to band together, but there’s just something different about his time with Eddie.

When it’s just the two of them, no one asking for rides or teasing either of them for how close they sit on the couch, Steve relaxes. He breathes. He just is. Eddie doesn’t expect much of him, or if he does, he never lets on and Steve certainly isn’t going to ask and ruin the moment. Just like the moment he finds himself in now: comfortable silence broken by nothing but a crackling fire and the sound of Eddie’s pencil against the page.

“What’re you doing over there?” Steve asks, gently squeezing Eddie’s calf with the hand he hadn’t realized was absentmindedly rubbing up and down Eddie’s soft, worn-in sweatpants.

“Huh?” Eddie looks up, eyebrows hitched up and pencil coming to a halt. “Oh, nothing. Just sketching, I guess.”

“Is it for the campaign?” Steve grins. “Can I see? I won’t tell Dustin, I promise.”

“That little shit would bat his eyes twice and you’d spill the whole ending, are you kidding me?” Eddie laughs, pulling his notebook closer to his chest. “And no, it’s not for the campaign anyways. It’s for my eyes only.”

“Oh, now all of a sudden, we’re keeping secrets?” Steve shakes his head and rolls his eyes, fond.

“It’s just lame, at least by my standards. There’s not a single snake or skull on this page, man. Nothing interesting, Boy Scouts’ Honor.” Eddie gives Steve a sly salute and Steve snorts, scooting closer so Eddie’s feet hang fully over his legs, his knees bent over Steve’s thighs.

“You were never a Boy Scout, so that means nothing,” he starts. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be all dark or whatever for me to think it’s interesting. It’s interesting because it’s yours.”

His voice comes out a little softer than he anticipated, all humor gone and replaced with hushed vulnerability. Eddie picks up on it, like he always does when it’s Steve, and tilts his head slightly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Steve nods, squeezes Eddie’s leg again but with intention this time.

“Tell anyone and I’ll find a way to resurrect Vecna, okay?”

“I’ll probably tell Robin,” Steve admits.

“I always assume you’ll tell Robin; she doesn’t count.” Eddie chuckles under his breath with a crooked smile, peeling his notebook away from his chest. “Alright, here.”

He looks away as he hands the notebook to Steve and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. Eddie’s art takes up two full pages, the cabin sketched in pencil and the fireplace detailed with varying shades of graphite. Dark gray stones from the mantle to the ceiling, roaring flames that seem to move in tandem with the fire right in front of them, dancing and crackling both on the page and in real life. The wooden logs on the page mirror the old-world charm of the walls that surround them, and in the center of it all, Steve sits on the couch with Eddie’s legs in his lap and a notebook in Eddie’s hands.

Steve looks closer, picking out the minutiae he’s missed from his own perspective. His features are soft, shadows from the fire across his Hawkins High hoodie, and more importantly, Eddie isn’t drawing in his sketch. He’s not scribbling away, shading, his tongue just barely poking out between his teeth in concentration. No, on the page, Eddie’s not even looking at his notebook.

He’s looking at Steve.

“Wow,” Steve exhales, finally looking back to Eddie and his hesitant, worried eyes. “Ed, this is incredible. You call this uninteresting?”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” he responds. The I love you stays silent. “Is this really how you see me?”

“Not exactly. I’m uh,” Eddie pauses, seems to draw up courage as he sits up a little straighter. “I’m not a good enough artist to draw you how I see you.”

Silence sits heavy between them, joining them on the couch as Steve tries to figure out what to do, how to decipher if the warmth in his chest is from what he thinks Eddie’s trying to say or from the fire in front of them.

It’s just the two of them and, well, words have never really been Steve’s strength, have they?

Eventually, he’ll find the words to tell Eddie how he sees him, how he feels about him; Steve will tell him that he feels like hot chocolate and warm blankets, and that sometimes he drives him a little insane but in all of the best ways.

For now though, it’s just the two of them with Steve’s lips against Eddie’s, and that’s more than enough.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

the flower guy. l Joel Miller

Summary: someone leaves flowers at your door

Warnings: some bad words (fuck), but other than that just fluff and stupid sweet talking

A/N: I think Joel deserves everything sweet and nice, I would like to give him this scribble. (and I wanted to thank you for every heart, reblog and observation. it means a lot)

It happened again.

Curiosity led you towards the porch where for a long time, every morning, you found a flower lying there. Sometimes it was an ordinary wild flower like a poppy or cornflower, and sometimes a few daisies. And even though your mind told you that it couldn't entirely be safe, your heart melted every time you opened the door.

This time you found a lilac flower on the doormat and without thinking, you inhaled its intense scent.

Was it stupid? Unwise?

You didn't know who left you such surprises, but he definitely made your day. You went to sleep wondering if something new would appear on the wiper, and then you woke up excited like a child on Christmas Day.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Ellie's voice broke you out of your thoughts. You were walking through a meadow near Jackson, partly to look around and partly to kill time. The warm sun warmed your backs as you lazily walked through the tall grass.

"Did he show up again?" the girl lowered her voice, but couldn't hide her excitement. "Did he leave anything?"

You looked at Ellie's bright face, then quickly glanced over your shoulder. The girl's gaze followed yours.

Joel followed you a dozen or so steps and didn't seem to care about you at all.

"Shhh!" you hissed, but you couldn't hide your smile.

"He doesn't even listen to us." Ellie shrugged. "We could be talking about all your ex-boyfriends and intimate relationship details and Joel would still just find dangers around us. He doesn't care."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. He's wandering around looking for something to do. Jackson seems to be boring him. Anyway," she grabbed your arm lightly, "Did he show up again?"

"Yes." you replied quietly, "He left me a lilac flower."

"Damn! I thought he would finally invite you somewhere! Idiot..."

"Why do you say that?" you were outraged, although you didn't feel angry at the girl at all. "I think it's sweet and romantic. Besides, blind dates, in this day and age, are probably not a good idea."

"Maybe you're right, but that doesn't change the fact that he's an idiot. He could just talk to you. Say something like, 'Hey, girl. You look stunning. Do you want to go out together?' "

You burst out laughing and quickly glanced over your shoulder again. Joel still didn't seem to be paying much attention to you.

"You should stop reading those teen magazines. They're just bullshit!"

"Are you kidding me?! They're fantastic. Can you tell me about your first time?"

"About what?!"

"About your sexual experience." Ellie sighed as if explaining such simple things to you was boring for her. "I asked Joel, but he told me to shut up and he went somewhere again."

"And he was right. You're too young for this."

"And you're too old to play ‘throwing flowers on the doormat’."

You already regretted that you had even told Ellie about what you found in front of your door in the morning. However, you had no choice, one morning she caught you picking up flowers and wouldn't leave you alone until you told her everything.

You weren't even going to tell Joel about it. He would definitely tell you right away that all this was suspicious, and then he would lie in wait outside your house with a shotgun to catch whoever was visiting you. This was definitely not a good idea.

"Hey!"

You both turned towards the voice calling to you. Joel stopped and stared intently at the nearby forest.

"I think I saw a deer there. Maybe we should go that way?" he pointed to an unspecified place.

"Are you sure?" you asked as you and Ellie approached him. "Maybe he escaped?"

"Maybe, but it's always worth checking."

"Sure. There's nothing we can do anyway. At least Ellie will be quiet."

Joel smiled slightly. You liked this view. Those little sweet lines around his eyes and some warmth radiating from him at that moment.

You were already used to Joel and Ellie's presence in Jackson, and you were also glad that they found each other in this place. You quickly found a common language and after some time Ellie became a frequent guest in your home. Thus, Joel Miller also became your close friend.

You liked his presence. And although sometimes his response was a grunt, or he looked at you in a strange way that made you wonder if you had done something stupid. You recognized his silhouette from a distance. Tall, broad shoulders, warm brown eyes, hair streaked with gray and that smile hidden in a soft beard.

Yeah, you could keep your eyes on him longer.

You quietly closed the door and ran down the few steps onto an empty road bathed in the first rays of sunlight. The pleasant coolness that surrounded you immediately woke you up. Despite everything, all you wanted to do was lie in your bed and try to get some sleep. Molly's twins cried all night because their teeth were coming in, and you promised to help her so she could nap for a while. So that night was hard.

You were already close to your house when you suddenly saw it. There was a person standing on your porch.

Your heart almost jumped out of your chest, but you reacted quickly, hiding behind some boxes standing next to the nearest building.

Maybe it was stupid and you could have acted like a responsible adult, but still... Fuck! You didn't expect to catch him in a situation like this. Especially since you were so curious and...

The man withdrew and went down the stairs, the sun shining on his face.

You'd recognize this man anywhere.

You knew you wouldn't fall asleep again. Even though you were lying in bed and the window curtains were drawn tightly, you were staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. It was insane.

You would never in your life suspect that the person who left you flowers for so long was Joel Miller. Because how come? Joel?

You were friends, you spent a lot of time together, and Ellie treated your house almost like it was her own. But it seemed to you that he never took you seriously. To him, you were just like any other resident of Jackson, and you even had the impression that he became more gruff around you.

“Fuuuck…” you moaned, rubbing your face with your hands.

Your brain no longer functioned normally and only gave you a headache. You needed at least a few hours of sleep, but that probably wasn't going to happen.

After some more fidgeting in bed, you got up, intending to take a shower and eat something.

Joel. Why did it have to be Joel? After all, it changes everything. How were you supposed to look him in the face now? Would you act like nothing happened? And why was he doing it?

You didn't even feel like going to the bar today. You were sure you would find Joel and Tommy there, and that was probably the last thing you wanted.

A loud knock on the door echoed through the house.

"Y/N? Are you there?" Ellie banged on the door again, “Y/N?”

Did you just hide behind the kitchen cabinet? God! What the hell was that supposed to be?

Ellie's footsteps faded away and you finished your coffee sitting on the kitchen floor. You had only one way out of this situation, you could pretend that nothing happened, avoid Joel for a while until the matter resolved itself. Because he definitely just wanted to please you. Flowers are not a wedding promise, right?

"Pull yourself together, kid." you muttered to yourself as you got up from the floor. “It's just Joel. Just stupid flowers. Nothing more. Don't look for something in it that isn't there.”

You could have avoided Miller, but Ellie found you the next day. She wasn't happy when you told her you wouldn't be going on patrol with them for a while and you were taking on other responsibilities in Jackson.

"But it was so fun!" the girl groaned, leaning against the bar counter. “Even Joel had fun.”

"Right. But you see, we can't spend every free moment together, Ellie." you replied, placing the just-washed glasses in the cabinet.

"Why not?"

"Because I guess I feel awkward when Joel is around." of course you didn't tell her that and she couldn't read your mind.

"Do you have anyone?"

"W-What?!" the glass almost fell out of your hand.

"Maybe you're dating someone and that's why you can't see us?"

"Bullshit."

"And your flower guy? What about him? Did he talk to you? Did he show up?"

"Ellie, please. Can you get off of me?"

"I knew it! He must have been some hideously ugly and sleazy guy!"

"Ellie!" you interrupted her, placing your hands on your hips. “Stop it! I don't want to talk about it. These are adult matters, not for you.”

"Oh, sure! Joel says the same thing when I ask him where he's going alone this early in the morning. 'None of your business, kid.'" the girl mimicked the low tone of Joel's voice, "You two should meet up and talk about your adult stuff, because you're both acting weird." "

Was it easy for you? NO.

Did you feel bad for Ellie and Joel? Yes. Especially towards Joel.

Would you give anything to go back to the way it was before? Yes. You guess.

There was one big swirl of thoughts in your head, and your life had been like a game of hide and seek for several days. Flowers continued to appear on your doormat and you felt extremely guilty.

You liked Joel. Even very much. You could list a lot of his advantages and disadvantages, but it all made him what he was. You missed him so much, but you were afraid that if you went any further, your friendship might suffer. And then avoiding him in Jackson would be even more difficult.

It happened the day you were cleaning one of the warehouses. It was already starting to get dark outside when you, completely immersed in your thoughts, were arranging cans and jars on wooden shelves.

"I got you."

It was like a gunshot. A low and warm voice appeared out of nowhere, but you knew its owner perfectly.

You turned around. Joel stood leaning against the door, watching you warily. His denim shirt had a few buttons undone and his arms were folded across his chest.

"Oh, hi." you mumbled, "I didn't hear you come in. Do you need anything?"

"You." he replied and you felt your throat tighten.

You must have looked scared, because Miller added after a moment.

"I mean... Fuck." he cleared his throat, "I was looking for you because you seem to have been avoiding me lately."

"Where did this idea come from?" you tried to smile, but it probably came out too nervous. “I'm definitely not avoiding you. I've just been busy. Just busy.”

"I got a different impression."

You didn't know how to respond to that so you tried to go back to work, but Joel was still standing there. You felt his eyes on you and your cheeks burned.

"So everything's okay between us?" he asked after a moment of silence.

"Definitely." you replied quickly, "Everything's great!"

"Okay then."

Silence again. It would be easier for you if he left, but he still stood there.

"You know, Ellie thinks you're seeing someone." he started again.

You turned to Joel.

"No, that's not true. I already told her about it." you replied, "I don't know why we're even bringing this up, Joel. I've had some work to do lately. I can't be with you all the time, even if I wanted to... It's complicated, Joel."

"I get it. It's a little complicated for me too, because I really like being with you."

You bit your lip because those words were really...nice. And comfortable for you. You missed him so much that it was hard for you to admit it, even to yourself.

“Listen, Y/N. I'm really bad at this.” Joel nervously placed his hands on his hips. "I haven't done this in years and it might seem embarrassing. Ellie would definitely say I'm acting like an idiot. I think I know why you've been avoiding me, and it's not because of work."

"You think so?"

"Yeah."

The ball was in your court. Joel stood in front of you, completely disarmed and needing your help to sort this all out.

"I know it's you, Joel." you started hesitantly, "Those flowers, I saw you the other morning. It kind of surprised me."

"Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I..."

"NO!" you interrupted him quickly. "It was the nicest thing that's happened to me in a long time. I was just scared, you know. We're friends, I don't want any of our bad decisions to change that."

“We're only human, Y/N. We'll always make bad decisions, but there will be good ones too.”

"But should we take the risk? I really like you a lot, Joel. I've missed you so much."

He walked towards you slowly.

"I missed you too." he said "God, every day I found myself wanting to look at you, hear your voice or laugh. And then I realized that you weren't with me. I didn't want you to feel trapped by me."

"I didn't feel like that! I guess I never realized what I felt. Having you next to me was just natural to me."

"Same here." he smiled "I guess we actually acted like fucking kids."

"I think so. Ellie wouldn't leave us alone if she found out."

"She'll find out anyway." Joel shrugged. “Because now I want to do it right, Y/N. I know we don't have many options, but maybe you'd like to... Fuck.” he took a deep breath. "Maybe you'd like to spend the evening with me? We can have a few drinks, talk, and spend some time together. Alone."

"Sounds really good."

His face lit up with a smile, and you realized how much you missed him. Maybe it was stupid, maybe you were acting like kids, but why wouldn't you?

When Joel left the warehouse, he seemed to be in a really good mood, and you felt a flock of butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to spend this evening with him, you wanted to see his wonderful and warm eyes again. You may have had a soft spot for him, but he definitely felt the same way.

And you were both like teenagers, and that was good.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[sant-riley]

Yeah but like what if one day Gaz walked into a room and saw Y/N FNAF lore dumping to Ghost

[Infodumping the boys]

(Mostly Platonic tf141 x gen neutral! reader, hints at Ghost bc it’s me and I’m biased.)

Summary: Teddy aka You, decide to gather the gang and tell them about five nights at Freddy’s before the movie comes out.

Word count: 800 ish

Warnings: Possibly of for the boys (idrc tho lmao), Teddy is this readers callsign, reader is implied to be at least early 20’s, I can’t think of anything else tbh but lmk if this does need something tagged!

It wasn't uncommon for you to infodump your teammates, they're all older than you and have significantly less screen time than you (it ties into being older). Most of the information you give them is something they take as fact, this is no different.

Gaz of all people knows your interests best, you two being the closest in age means you both realistically grew up with the internet and its most popular series.

The last thing he expected walking into one of the many meeting rooms on base, was you at the front of the room, your laptop hooked up to the projector and Price and Soap sitting down, dutifully listening with varying degrees of attention.

Price is to your left, staring down at mission documents that no doubt need to be turned in by tomorrow. A glass of some liquor next to his stack, a cigar box that's propped open right by it as well.

To anyone else, it would seem like Price isn't listening and he's just here to keep you from bothering him to come but Gaz can see the Captain's eye flick up every so often, his eyes softening when his gaze falls on yours, listening for a few beats, a miniscule upturn of his lips until he's looking back down again, grabbing a pen to make a correction.

Soap on the other hand is sitting next to Cap, a hand resting under his chin, the other flipping around a pen in his hands. He's nodding and asking questions as you flick through. Below him is a notebook that seems to have scribbled in it, if Gaz walked in further he could see little drawings of Monty Gator and Soap himself, a Venn diagram with a large red writing saying "Mohawk!!"

Ghost being there probably should be a shock but it isn't. The man is known to follow you around like a shadow, he humors you arguably the most out of the four men, letting you drag him to and from places with minimal complaint. He bets Ghost is gonna be the one to take you to the five nights at Freddys movie premiere.

Simon's dressed down to just his hoodie and his balaclava mask, attentively watching you as you speak passionately about each character and their role in the series. his dark eyes flicking around to stare at the drawings you inserted so everyone could see what the animatronics and others looked like.

You would've thought this was a mission debrief with how focused he was on your words.

Gaz lets out a fake cough, announcing himself to the room and he watches as your eyes immediately latch onto him, he ignores how his heart skips a beat when he sees the crinkles of your eyes, seeing you shoot a glowing smile his way.

You always look at him like that but he never tires of it.

"Gaz! Finally, you're here!"

Rushing over to him, you grab at his hand, quickly intertwining fingers, and start dragging him to the seat next to Ghost. He sits down with a huff, amusement swimming around his eyes. You move to go back to the front of the room, gleefully rocking on the balls of your feet as you look at them.

"What's all this about?" He questions, after getting nods in acknowledgment from the other 3 men in the room.

"Teddy here is tellin' us about five nights at…Frankies?"

"It's Freddy's, Johnny." You roll your eyes playfully.

"No shot you're making Ghost and Cap listen to this."

"I'm not making them do anything, they're here of their own free will, thank you very much." Sticking out your tongue, moving to click to the next slide.

"Is that true Cap?"

"It's background noise," John murmurs with a shrug, taking a swig out of his glass. He leans back in his seat, seemingly taking a momentary break as he looks around at the table.

"Got nothin' better else to do," Simon answers easily, looking at Gaz from the corner of his eye.

"You ain't gonna ask me, Garrick?"

"Nah, you of all people would enjoy it."

"What's tha-"

"Boys! Shut it! We're getting to the good part!" You clap your hands together and Soap immediately cuts himself off, looking back at you.

With all the boys' eyes on you, you clear your throat and push a button, there, from when Gaz remembers, is Michael Afton in all his purple nasty body glory.

"Fucks wrong with him? Why does he look like that?" Simon remarks, an eyebrow shooting up.

"I'm so glad you asked, you know actually the more I think about it, You and Michael actually have a lot in common.”

"How so?"

"Asshole dad, the oldest brother, daddy issues, I can keep going if you want."

Ghost just grunts in acknowledgment, raising a hand to his head and rubbing at his temples.

Price chokes on his liquor, coughing as it goes down the wrong pipe.

Soap audibly drops an "oh."

And Gaz just stares, truth be told, yeah. Yeah, he can see the resemblance.

[midnightmoonkiss]

Language Of Love

AlHaitham X GN! Reader

“‘Italics’” = he’s speaking another language

“So.. you can speak 20 languages?”

A random conversation.

It was easy to guess how you got to this point, boredom.

Spending time with your.. acquaintance, who you may or may not have a crush on, wasn’t on your agenda today, but here you are - sitting on a chair in his office as he effortlessly scribbles down sophisticated words onto parchment.

The sound was certainly pleasing to the ears, skrch sccrch sckrch.

You had no clue what he was doing. Oh, the duty of a scribe..

Or why you even came here..

No.

You knew why you came here, to spend time with him, as a friend only. Or maybe you were less than friends. It was hard putting a label on things when it came to the emotionally stunted AlHaitham. He was almost as bad as the General Mahamatra.

You just forgot how boring spending time with him can be if he’s busy working, thus leading you to flip through one of the many books on his bookshelf.

Yeah, you quickly got bored of that too.

These weren’t story books, they were informative books. You suppose to a man like him who enjoyed learning, this was like being surrounded by candy. To you? Its like being surrounded by encyclopedias.

He probably reads encyclopedias for fun.

So here you were, starting a conversation on a little fact you heard an academia student mutter like it was a piece of gossip even though it was probably outlined somewhere.

“Yes,” The scratching of quill to paper continues even as he glances up at you for a split second, “It’s important for scholars to broaden their knowledge and fluency of languages as to not hinder important research that may be written in a different dialect.”

All of Teyvat spoke the same language, it was easy to wonder why everyone from ancient times suddenly decided to switch. Of course you wouldn’t ask him such a thing, not right now anyway.

You had a plan.

A plan to woo this man.

The many failed attempts before can not hinder you.

Smugly, you said to him, “I bet I know one language you can’t speak.”

Oh, you were already giddy.

Curiosity peaked, his scribbling halted, eyes on you, “Is that so?” He was eager to hear you answer.

Whether you were toying with him, or genuinely knew a language he could add to his list, he was willing to listen.

“Do tell.”

Clearing your throat, you sat up straight and gave him a cocky smile, “The language of love.”

You were met with silence, as expected.

He was starstruck, surely. In awe. Was he wooed?

You could easily speak up with the punchline after his response, oh!! You would say, ‘but I can teach you!!’

Oh, he’s about to respond! He’s-!

“You must be referring to the ancient Fontaine language used by higher class citizens, commonly known to scholars as the language of love due to how words would ‘roll off the tongue like silk’ when speaking it.“

–an idiot? You were gobsmacked.

And he was smirking on the inside.

“I’m surprised you know of this language, you must have learned something from one of the books you’ve flipped through in the library.”

“That’s not,”

“I can even demonstrate it for you.”

“Wait!”

You began to fluster as he indeed began speaking a language completely foreign to your ears.

He was right, the words did flow silkily. This did not make you feel any better. Your pickup line failed miserably.

“‘You are so adorable, trying to trick me like this.’”

You can’t help but pout, wondering just what he was saying.

“‘Look at you, cheeks flushed and puffed like a fish. Honestly, how am I supposed to work efficiently if you’re here distracting me.’”

“Aw come on,” You began to complain, frowning at the gloating male, “I can’t understand you, y’know.”

“‘I do wonder if you’re aware that I know you like me, you wear your heart on your sleeves, my dear,’” he smiles ever so slightly, which completely unnerves you, “‘I like you too.’”

His cheek rests on his knuckles as he leans back and observes your frustration. Oh, how happy he was you brought this up. Any chance to show off his ability and confess without you knowing is always a good opportunity.

He’d shower you in compliments and confessions in all 20 languages if he had the time, perhaps even spill secrets to your unknowing ears.

Oh, how he would like that. He could say his deepest, darkest desires and you’d only look at him with confusion.. maybe even annoyance.

The thought pleased the busy scholar.

“That’s so mean you know, am I supposed to look up your words in a dictionary or something?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be in a dictionary.” He reaches forward and tugs at your cheek, elation swirling in his broad chest as you whine and swat at his large arm.

“Should you remind me at a later date,” when he’s finally made you his, of course, “I’ll happily tell you what I said.”

“How about right now.”

“It is not a later date, only the time has changed.” Breathing out a sigh, faking annoyance, he turns his attention back to his paperwork, picking back up his quill.

“Ok, so I can ask you tomorrow.”

“You can, however, I’m under no obligation to tell you until I want to.”

“I dislike you very much, Scribe.” You grumbled, settling back in your seat.

He chuckles to himself, “I’m sure you do, ‘sweetheart.’”

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I know you wanted more requests for people besides the marauders so you can do this for anyone you like but maybe reader who is just soooo in love with them that anytime they do something nice for her she starts crying? Like happy tears because she's just so in love and she doesn't know how to express that. If you don't want to that's fine!

Hi, thank you! I decided to go with Sirius anyway because I felt like he'd be the most fun. (This is gonna be me btw, the first time I experience romantic love there's no way I'm gonna be able to handle it)

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Do you think it’s a bad idea to show off my tattoos on the first day?”

“Mm, maybe,” you muse, looking longingly at the way Sirius’ inked-up forearms pair with his black dress shirt. “I feel like after the interview it won’t matter, but today you probably want to present your straightest-laced self.” 

“Gross,” he grunts, but starts rolling down his sleeves. 

It’s a rare sight, Sirius up before noon, but his job interview is scheduled for ten and he doesn’t feel in a position to negotiate. The frail morning light bounces off the full length mirror he’s standing in front of and illuminates the room as he purses his lips and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You’re lying on the bed watching him get ready, trying your very best not to look enthralled and wanton (it is a constant effort). 

“My most gorgeous, radiant angel, could I ask you for a favor?” 

You grin, warmth flooding your chest. “You don’t have to butter me up. What is it?” 

“Grab the bigger version of this shirt? I think I may want a baggier tuck.” 

You hum and get up, padding into the closet. Sirius’ clothes are all strewn over the floor and dresser, but miraculously the shirt you’re looking for is on a hanger. As you reach for it, you nearly trip over a small box on the floor. It looks like the shell of something Sirius was sent in the mail, plain cardboard with the shipping label torn off. You bring it back out with you. 

“Thanks, lovely,” Sirius says as he takes the hanger from you. 

“No problem,” you reply. “Want me to recycle this for you?” 

He turns to look, blinks, then looks harder. “No. Where’d you find that?” 

“On the floor.” 

“Must have fallen off its shelf.” He discards the smaller shirt on the bed and starts doing up the buttons of this new one, smirking when your eyes track the deft movements of his fingers. “Don’t throw it out, it’s got important stuff in it.” 

You weigh the box in your hand. “It feels empty.” 

“It’s got important, lightweight stuff in it.” 

You eye the barely-open flap of the box, intrigued. “Can I look inside?” 

You think you catch a flicker of hesitation across Sirius’ features, but it’s quickly schooled into insouciance. A vine of nervousness winds around your gut. “Sure,” he says, “go ahead.” 

You look at him a bit longer before slowly peeling back the cardboard flap. Inside is a mishmash of things. Paper, mostly, but you recognize one item immediately. It’s a flimsy, neon orange paper wristband, a venue’s name stamped haphazardly onto one side. At the first concert you’d gone to together, Sirius had griped endlessly about how the orange contrasted with his outfit horribly and brought out all the ugliest hues of his skin (there aren’t any, but you were too timid to tell him that at the time). He’d seemed desperate to be rid of it. But here it is, carefully clipped off instead of torn and preserved like something special. Something warm and weighty blooms in your chest. 

You take out one of the pieces of paper, unfolding it. It’s your handwriting, thoughtless scribbling you’d left for him to find on the fridge one day after you’d left for work. Have a great day, love you. 

Another is a bar napkin, containing a whole back-and-forth exchange between you and Sirius from the first time you’d met his friends. You’d kept passing it to him under the table, asking Do they like me? Are they just being nice? Is Remus always so frowny? and he’d passed it back saying Yes. Yes, they love you. James is this nice to everyone, but I can tell he likes you. Remus is being a sourpuss because he hasn’t eaten yet. You’re perfect. 

By the time you come upon a polaroid you’d forgotten he’d taken of you in his kitchen, you’re pressing your lips together to keep them from wobbling and your entire being feels warmed by incandescent, aching fondness. Your heart feels so big you can’t breathe around it. You’re not sure you have room for this much love, but you’ll happily carry it around like a weight in your chest for the rest of your life. 

You’re all too aware that Sirius is watching you now, so you try to keep it together for his sake, but when you blink a tear slides down the side of your nose. 

“Hey,” he chides lightly, amusement inlaid with a bit of panic. “Don’t.” 

You sniffle, then laugh wetly. “Can I hug you?” 

Normally he might make a joke (Not if you’re going to get snot all over my interview shirt) but something in your expression must sway him, because Sirius’ eyes go soft. “Yeah, baby. Of course.” 

He doesn’t make you get up, crossing the distance to the bed and wrapping you up in his arms. You let out a little sob at the contact. 

“I’m gonna clean off your shirt once we’re done,” you promise, gripping his shoulders. 

“Okay.” He sounds amused. 

“I just—I didn’t know you kept this stuff.” 

“It’s cheesy.” 

“It’s not,” you insist, hugging him tighter. It makes you happy beyond words, to know you’re bringing this out in him. To see, with your own eyes, how much he loves you back. You can check in with yourself at any time and know you’re happy in your relationship with Sirius, but you never could have imagined how spectacular it would feel to know that you make him this happy in return. “It’s special, Sirius. You’re special.” 

“James’ mum used to tell me the same thing.” 

“Oh, shut up.” You smack his arm, pulling back with a huff. You’re smiling, though, and he sees, taking your wet, blotchy face between his palms and grinning at you. Honestly, if he weren’t Sirius Black, he’d be such a dork. 

“I love you,” he says, a significance in his tone that contradicts the playfulness in his expression. “Do I let you forget it?” 

“No,” you tell him. “You don’t, it’s just…I just really love you too, you know?” 

His smile spreads, flashing canines the second before he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s firm and spirited, and Sirius holds you there until you’re laughing into his mouth. 

“I know,” he says, pecking you once more on the lips before letting you go with a swipe of his thumbs across your cheeks. “Alright, gorgeous, clean me up, would you? I’ve got other people to go impress.”

[diaferia-dhades]

Queen of Onychinus I

Sylus x MC (Fluff, slight smut, MDI)

Warnings: swearing, mention of torture, mentions of sex, let me know if there's more. Literally wrote this right before going to work

Word Count: 1507, no proofreading (sorry if there are grammatical and/or typo errors)

Preview: There had been rumors that Sylus, the self-crowned leader of the infamous N109 zone is married. Some say she has the body of an angel but the heart of a devil. Some say she was in an arranged marriage and was mistreated by this infamous leader...

Nothing is harder than trying to find Sylus fluff. I know this man look like he can do stuff to us, but please, I need some fluuuuffffff Please send me Sylus fluff.... also idk how to line break

"News of Onychinus leader, Sylus, is married..."

I sighed as I turned off the phone, tossed it aside, and slowly leaned further down the sofa. The news had been spreading like wildfire that Sylus was married and people already started to spread rumors of what this "wife of onychinus" could be.

"What did you see that made you sigh like that, kitten?" Sylus asked from his desk, reading through documents that he claimed "business".

"Oh, I don't know? Probably I am being severely abused by you. Or maybe I have the body of an angel, the heart of a devil? Or maybe I'm just a plaything for the big, bad Onychinus leader." I shrugged.

Sylus scoffed, "They did get one thing correct."

I raised an eyebrow, "oh?"

"You do have a body of an angel."

I rolled my eyes. I swear this man... He is so good with his words.

"I'm surprised though..."

Sylus looked up from his documents as if telling me to continue.

"I'm surprised the news of your marriage got out today even though we got married several months ago."

Sylus smirked, "I have my ways."

After we got engaged, I asked Sylus if he could keep his marital status a secret as I get used to the N109 zone. He sure did keep his promise.

I opened my mouth to ask how he done it, but thought it probably best to be ignorant so I quickly closed my mouth. I cleared my throat, changing the subject, "what time are you leaving tonight?"

Sylus scribbled something on that piece of document before standing up. "In 2 hours."

I nodded, silently wished he doesn't have to go.

"Would you like to come with me, sweetie?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

Sylus chuckled, "I asked if you would like to come with me? Every time I leave for those boring meetings, you always looked abandoned. My beautiful wife already been broadcast in the news, why not show-"

Sylus hadn't even finished his sentence when I jumped from the sofa, "No time to lose now! I have one hour to prepare!" I screeched and ran out of his office as I heard Sylus' rich laughter behind me.

The meeting place that Sylus is meeting is at...

a fucking strip club.

My eyes twitched as I saw women dressed in nearly nothing, dancing and entertaining their male clients.

"My, I didn't know you go to meetings like this." I friendly smiled up at him.

"Don't worry, sweetie. My eyes are always on you."

"You better or else I would curse you for eternity to unable to fall in love with anyone else but me." I looked around to see so many people staring at Sylus and I, assuming that I am the wife the news are talking about. It surely piqued their interest.

Sylus gently took my chin and guided me to look at him, "I love it when you threaten me." He smirked before pecking me on the lips. "I'll be on the second floor, first door to the left. You're free to bother me any time." I felt him sliding my dress up and something cold sliding into my garter belt. "Have fun, but please don't drink too much. I love you."

I giggled, "Love you too."

Luke and Kierran both waved at me before following Sylus upstairs. However, Mephisto...

He is perching on my head. Damn bird.

"Get off my hair, you'll mess it up."

Mephisto cooed before flying away to Sylus knows where. I walked toward the bar. I sat toward the corner, away from everyone else. I wished I had taken outwear that was draping on Sylus' shoulder so that I could cover up my knees as I sat on the bar stool. The short, red dress is making me slightly self-conscious.

"Would you like anything to drink?" The bartender asked.

"I would like -," I started when an annoying voice interrupted me.

"She would like whiskey on the rocks."

I grimaced. Then I felt hands on my bare shoulders and I grimaced even harder. "You can put whatever she wants to drink on my tab."

I shrugged to get his hands off me. "No, thanks. And please," I made the "please-respect-my-personal-space" gesture.

"The name's Dean." He slowly backs slightly.

The bartender sets a glass of whiskey in front of me, which I took and set in front of Dean. "I would like a glass of Pinot Noir."

The bartender nodded, "is there a specific brand you would like?"

"Yes, whatever the most expensive one is."

Dean whistled, "Is that what you get for being the Onychinus leader's slut?"

"I would be careful what you say," I lowered my voice.

The bartender came over with a glass. "This is a Leroy." He said, sliding the glass toward me.

I nodded and took the glass from him, picked up the card, and slid it back into my belt. "Thanks." I looked over to Dean and said, "You should chat with someone else."

"How much is Sylus paying you?"

I smiled, "a lot. You wouldn't be able to afford it."

Dean leaned in closer, "Try me."

I took a small sip of the wine. It felt smooth as it slid down my throat. However, the taste was bitter. I slowly set the glass on the counter. "His soul."

Dean blinked before laughing, "You know the dangers of being near him, don't you? You could die in any second."

I took another sip of the wine, completely ignoring him. But he just keeps going on and on.

"You sure know how to keep your mouth shut even though you're just a lowly hole from that disgusting bastard."

I slammed the glass down, resulting in the wine glass base being shattered. But I couldn't care less. I glared at Dean as the wine spilled on the counter. I felt my hands clutch into a fist, ready to sock this asshole who dared to insult my husband.

Suddenly, something familiar and warm surrounded me and a gentle hand covered my fist. A rich and deep voice that I am so familiar with said, "Don't hurt yourself, sweetheart."

I felt a sudden sense of relief and I leaned onto Sylus. I relaxed my fingers and Sylus used that opportunity to interlock his fingers through mine. Sylus leaned in and whispered loudly in my ear, purposely letting Dean hear every word. "How should I deal with him?"

I looked over at Dean and playfully pouted, "he insulted you and me. How about we burn his tongue so he will stop sprouting nonsense?"

Blood drained from Dean's face as he tries to apologize, "I - I..."

Sylus pecked my neck, "consider it done." He waved his hand and Luke and Kierran dragged Dean outside as Dean screamed and begged for forgiveness. People at the strip club all gasp and whisper among each other. I grabbed the black card that Sylus slid into my garter belt and slid it toward the bartender. "This is for the wine and the glass."

The bartender quickly nodded and took my card. The bartender must really want me to leave because he immediately came back and handed the card back to me. I took the card and slid it back into my garter belt as Sylus took my hand and guided me off the bar stool. "Hopefully this will send a message to everyone in the N109 zone that they shouldn't dare to irritate my wife, the Queen of Onychinus."

The next morning, I was scrolling through my phone. Every news is about how Sylus' wife tortured someone who dared to badmouth her, exaggerating nearly everything about what had happened last night. Some blogs are even betting how long I would last as his wife. I inwardly rolled my eyes.

"Sweetie, you have been on your phone for a while, please join me in bed. Or should I beg you to join me?" Although Sylus was trying to hide it, but he was clearly pouting.

I giggled, "yes, dear, I'll come join you right now."

Sylus holds up the comforter and I slide into the bed, snuggling closer to him. Sylus hummed as he covered the comforter over me.

"You know what I found on the internet?"

Sylus hummed, clearly tired.

"People are betting how long I will last as your wife. So, bet, how long would I last?"

Sylus opened his eyes slightly, "For eternity, love."

"If you ever dare to share your love with someone else, I will chain you to this bed and probably strangle you."

Sylus stared down at me and smirked. "Heavens, you are so hot when you threaten me."

I was about to tease him when I felt something hard against my stomach. "You're turned on when I threaten you?!"

"I get turned on by everything you do and say, sweetie." Sylus smiled as he slid his hands under my pajamas.

"Wait, wait, Sylus," I desperately begged. "I need sleep!"

"You should've thought that before turning me on, sweetie."

"WAIT!" I wailed.

Goodbye, sleep.