#‘I LOVE MINOR!!!’ ‘Wait. wh.’

[yumeyleo]

its always so fucking funny to me when people misspell minori’s name as minor

[deansbeer]

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐌.

♡ ⋮ my content is not suitable for minors.

꒰ paired duo ꒱ simon riley x female!reader.

꒰ synopsis ꒱ he fucks you so deep, worshipping every inch of you, and can’t get enough of how beautiful you look.

꒰ content warnings ꒱ smut | rough sex | size kink | stomach bulge | breast worship | mentions of titfucking (𖬺𖬺 implied) | overstimulation | dirty talk | praising kink | possessiveness | obsession | soft degradation | creampie | minimal plot.

꒰ sticky notes ꒱ i pray this phase never leaves me. he’s so yummy MY GOD. nobody could physically pull me off of him.

i tried remembering who to tag from my taglist for simon — and this’ll be the only time it’s used. <3

you don’t remember how it started — not clearly, anyway.

maybe it was the way he looked at you when you bent over to grab something off the floor, or the way you sat on his lap earlier, teasing just to see if he’d flinch. maybe it was the way you wore nothing but his t-shirt to bed, knowing damn well he wouldn’t last long seeing you like that.

either way, it doesn’t matter now.

because he’s got you on your back, legs spread wide, your knees almost to your shoulders as he fucks into you like he’s trying to make a home there — like he’s been waiting all damn day to get this deep. and he is deep. so deep it hurts in that sweet, swollen way. your belly is tight, the pressure unbearable and perfect, and you can’t stop the way your fingers claw into the sheets, breath hitching every time he drives forward.

and then he does it — leans back just enough to look down where your bodies meet, broad hand splaying across your stomach, eyes going dark when he sees it.

“fuckin’ hell,” he breathes, voice low and thick, like he’s not sure whether to groan or laugh. “you see this, luv?”

you blink up at him, dazed, chest heaving. “wh-what?”

he presses down gently, thumb dragging over the bulge that forms every time his cock thrusts into you. “right here,” he says, slow, like he’s savoring every word. “thas’ me. you’re so fuckin’ full, i can see myself inside your tummy.”

your breath catches. your back arches.

“s-so big,” you gasp, eyes fluttering shut.

he growls low in his throat — not angry, just possessive, filthy with it. “yeh? can feel how deep i am, can’t you? stretchin’ this pretty cunt to take every inch.”

you nod, helpless. ruined.

he leans over you again, weight pressing you into the mattress, hand braced beside your head, the other sliding under your thigh to lift it higher, open you wider. his hips snap forward, hard, and the bed creaks loud beneath you — a sharp, desperate noise that matches the rhythm of your breathing.

“listen to that,” he mutters, lips dragging along your jaw. “bed’s about to give out. ya hear it?”

you nod again, letting out a soft mewl.

“don’ care,” he growls, fucking into you harder. “let it snap. let the whole fuckin’ thing collapse. i’ll still be right here, cock buried so deep you’ll never forget it.”

you can’t think. can’t speak. every nerve ending is on fire, everything centered on the way he fills you, the way he owns you like this.

and then his hand slides up your body, rough palm cupping one of your breasts, squeezing like he’s wanted to for hours.

“bloody hell, baby,” he groans. “these tits…”

his thumb brushes over your nipple, slow and deliberate, and you keen under him, hips twitching.

“so fuckin’ soft,” he murmurs, leaning down to mouth at your chest, sucking a bruise into the skin just above your nipple. “ya know how long ‘ve wanted to fuck these?”

you gasp, thighs trembling. “baby—”

“gonna do it next time,” he promises, voice thick with lust. “wanna see my cock slidin’ between ‘em. wanna come all over the pretty curves i love so much.”

you moan, high and broken.

he grins — not the cruel kind, not the cocky kind — just full of need. like he’s just as desperate as you are. like he’s been waiting to say these things forever.

“look so fuckin’ gorgeous when you’re like this,” he says, gaze locked on your face. “all fucked-out. needy. clingin’ to me like i’m the only thing that can make ya come.”

you are. he is.

your hands claw at his back, dragging him closer, and he groans when your nails catch on his skin.

“thas’ it,” he growls. “hold on to me. take it. fuckin’ take it, baby.”

he shifts his angle just slightly and hits something inside you that makes your vision go white for a second. your back arches, legs twitch, and you cry out his name, voice cracking.

“there it is,” he coos, slowing down just enough to grind into that spot over and over. “righ’ there, huh? that sweet spongy little spot that always makes you come all over my cock.”

you’re babbling now — half words, half moans, tears pricking at your eyes from just how much it is. the stretch, the pressure, the overwhelming fullness of him.

“gonna give it to you,” he mutters, low and dark, hips stuttering. “gonna fill ya up, let you feel me long after i’m gone. let you drip with me all fuckin’ day.”

you dig your fingers into his arms, thighs trembling, body tight as a bowstring.

“please,” you gasp, voice barely audible. “please, simon—”

he shushes you gently, lips brushing your temple.

“i got you,” he whispers. “gonna come with you, baby. come inside this perfect little cunt. make you mine all over again.”

and when you come, it’s like falling.

your body locks up, pussy squeezing tight around him, and he swears, loud and wrecked, as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release. he doesn’t stop. doesn’t slow. not until he’s grinding into you as deep as he can go, cock twitching, warmth spreading as he comes inside you with a low, guttural moan.

you’re both shaking, breathless, stuck in it.

he stays buried in you for a long moment after, forehead resting against yours, breath ghosting over your lips. his hand comes up to brush hair from your face, and he kisses you — slow, soft, like he’s trying to bring you back to earth.

“you alright?” he murmurs, finally.

you nod, still dazed. “yeah. fuck. yeah.”

he smiles — small, rare, real.

he pulls out slow, and you whimper at the loss. he watches the way his come leaks out of you, eyes heavy-lidded, possessive.

“don’ move,” he says, voice back to that rough, commanding tone. “wanna see you just like this a little longer.”

you nod, weakly, and he leans over to press another kiss to your chest, then your stomach.

“next round,” he says, eyes flicking up to yours with a dangerous glint, “you’re on top. wanna watch those perfect tits bounce while you ride me.”

and from the way your body clenches at the promise, he knows you’re already thinking about it too.

💬 babydoll tags 👼🏻 ʕ ྀི ܸ. . .ܸ ྀིʔ ֹ ᥀ ׄ ۪ @bruisedfig @titsout4jackles @bluemerakis @beausling @honeyyxxbee @acaibcwl @funkycoloured @blue-d @bluestrd @fuckedupfate @jensenacklesballsack @pinkitty97 @ghostlythots

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ SWEET TALK. featuring choso.

↻ choso lives for one thing ; to make sure his precious girlfriend is never unsatisfied.

tags : cunniligus, dirty talk, body worship, male masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, mentions of face sitting, feral choso // wc. 0.7k

author's note : i lowkey wanna thank @toadtoru for sending in an ask about this before i even posted it, because i used some of those ideas to improve on this :3 in true homage to my username choso is a complete slut in this lolsies ;) one more to go and this event is finished, thanks for sticking around for THIS long i love everyone here >o<

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

if there’s one thing CHOSO firmly believes in, it’s that you aren’t just his girlfriend, but some supreme deity from heaven above. it sounds completely ridiculous, but he believes it more than anything, especially in moments like this. 

you just look so beautiful above him on the couch, thighs parted slightly and fingers caressing the sensitive mound in between your legs, head tipped back and lips parted in a silent ‘o’ as your toes curl into the carpet. angelic, he thinks, and he can’t wait to receive permission to touch you.

“choso…” your voice is smooth like butter yet sweet like caramel, and choso can feel his cock begin to press up against his slacks. “c’mere.”

yes. that’s all he needs before he’s eagerly crawling in between your legs to lap at your cunt, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he pulls them apart in earnest. “shit… missed me, did she?” his rambles are fueled by pure lust and delusion, and as he eats you out, choso begins to talk into your cunt. “missed her too… poor baby can’t go too long without her sweet boyfriend, huh…”

fingers tangle in his dark locks as you pull him closer, effectively muffling his ramblings by grinding your lower half on his tongue. the way he eats you out is feverish, his wet muscle alternating between your inflamed clit and pulsing hole interchangeably. and choso can’t help himself from getting fired up by your lewd display too, his own hips grinding down onto  the couch as he finds solace in between your legs. 

you, on the other hand, are positively reeling, legs twitching uncontrollably as choso continues to make a mess of your poor cunt. you wish you could return to him the same pleasure tenfold, but all you can do is sit and take it, helpless to his ministrations. “cho, cho, ‘s too much, baby, s-slow down…” 

begging is futile. choso is hypnotised, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head in an immediate reflection of your own reaction. “sorry baby, can’t, you taste s’good, don’t wanna…”

neither of you are in your right mind, but choso especially. when you cry out from orgasm for the first time, he barely takes note, his tongue on your clit never letting up as he brings two fingers to the entrance of your weeping cunt. the other hand previously on your thigh is now shoved into his boxers, and he’s fisting himself just as quickly as his fingers begin to plow your pussy. 

he’s killing you, but you love it. his brown eyes peek up in between your legs, and you just catch his expression, pupils dilated with lust as he watches you twitch above him. he mumbles something onto your clit before he’s licking and kissing it again, and you begin to think you might actually die. 

“c’mon, baby,” he groans, hips thrusting forward into his palm as he continues to eat. “c’mon baby, gimme another one– fuck, please, please…”

“choso, i can’t…” you truly believe that, given the way he’s already on his way to giving you another orgasm in the short span of five minutes. but he needs it so bad, needs you to cum for him so bad that he speeds up, thumb now joining his tongue to stimulate your clit in unison. “choso!”

“that’s it, baby, that’s it, oh, she’s close, isn’t she?” you can barely believe that he’s treating your pussy like its own person, but fuck is it turning you on. you hiccup pitiful whimpers as your thighs begin to tremble again, knees closing inwards and trapping choso’s head in between your legs.

if he were to die in this position, he wouldn’t mind. your release sprays his lips in repeated spurts, juices dribbling down his chin and some even dripping onto the flared head of his cock. it’s that which tips choso over the edge, and he’s spurting ropes onto the carpet, his own eyes finding the back of his head rapidly as his nose jerks against your clit.

“baby…” he stares down at the mess he’s made on the floor and then back at you, who’s laying spread eagle on the couch, chest rapidly rising and falling. “you gotta sit on my face next time.”

PREVIOUS : SURVIVAL ft. sniper mask NEXT : INKED ft. suguru geto

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[reidrum]

one of me is cute, but two though?

A/N: …no explanation for this i fear. probably ovulating again. stream short n sweet, happy kinktober !

cw: *cracks knuckles* smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spence, fingering, oral (m receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, marking?, cr**mp*e, edging, aftercare, pet names, mentions of hypothetical pregnancy, fem!reader, a very real research paper that i actually looked up and read, this is filth but at least it’s prn with plot!

wc: 3.2k

summary: spencer can’t wait to have kids with you, in fact he wants to start right now

i love feedback! and talking to people!!! especially about spencer!!! pls interact with me it would make my entire existence okay thank you also this isn’t proofread

Spencer having baby fever wasn’t new to anyone, as the godfather of two of his closest friends’ children and known to be a crowd favorite to the kids at parties, he always had a longing desire to have children of his own to love and raise.

He’ll admit that at the start of your relationship he didn’t know how far the two of you would go, what kind of future was out there for you both. But the more you integrated into his life, his routine, his values, the more he knew for certain he would spend the rest of his life with you.

That brings you to today, you and Spencer were having an errands day making stops at the grocery store and target. As you’ve finished shopping around you both stand in line to checkout, and you’re standing behind a mother holding her little baby staring at you with her big green eyes. Your face melts as you coo gently at the baby, making silly faces and enjoying her little giggles.

A completely normal moment for you, but absolutely world changing moment for Spencer. It’s like something turns primal in him watching you play with the baby. Suddenly he’s picturing you rocking cradles at night, taking your kids—his kids—out to the park, how you’d look with a round belly carrying his child.

He looks at you with an adoration fueled by need, as in he needs to get you home right now before he attacks you in the middle of target.

A gently nudge pulls him from his daydream, “Hey, you okay? Lost you for a second.”

He shakes his head and steps forward to place the items on the conveyor belt and goes up to pay, “Yeah, no I’m okay.” he says mindlessly swiping his card and grabbing the bags.

You furrow your brows and walk to the car, tabling his weird behavior for another time to discuss, “I’m too hungry to question whatever that was right now, can we get pho?”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you want.” He wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your head before getting into the driver’s seat, absentmindedly still thinking about what your little ones would look like.

After you get lunch it’s a short drive home, but Spencer can’t help but wonder how the hell he got to this point. He wanted children with you, and yet you weren’t even married, not even close to it. You had just moved in with him only a few months ago, but he’s still firm in knowing he wants to spend forever with you.

You open the door to the house, Spencer following behind imagining little footsteps pattering throughout the house, a mini you and mini him. He’s so into his daze he doesn’t see the dining table and bangs his hip against it.

He groans in pain as you rush into the room, “Are you okay? I heard a bang.”

“No, I’m fine I just hit my hip.” He winces in pain.

The suspicion from earlier rises again and you can’t help but bluntly ask, “What is going on with you? You’re being spacey and weird with me. If it’s something I did please tell—“

“Do you want kids?” he blurts out interrupting you.

Your eyes widen, “Wh—what?”

Spencer’s eyes widen too, why the hell did he just say that? “I—um…Okay, not as in right this second. But, is that…something you’d want in the future?”

You pause for a few seconds before speaking softly, “Yeah, it is.”

“Okay. Cool.” He tries to say as nonchalantly as someone who downed an espresso shot.

Then it all starts to click for you, the lingering touches, the looks at the store when you’d see little babies, on walks in the park he’d stare into the playground.

“Spencer…do you… want to have kids…with me?” You ask so softly he subconsciously moves closer to hear you better.

He tries to pull every psychology and behavior tactic he can to read the expression on your face, to decipher what you’re truly feeling, but he comes up empty and is left to grapple with the emotions of the moment on his own.

“Are you mad?”

“Mad? Oh baby, no I’m not mad. Just a little surprised, I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You move to stand right in front of him at arm’s length, to let him know you’re right there, that you’re always there.

“How could I not? You are so beautiful, kind, and smart. I think I’d be the luckiest dad in the galaxy if my kids turned out like you.” He says softly, grabbing your hand to thumb at the palm in a soothing manner, more to calm his nerves than yours but it’s really working both ways. You couldn’t look any softer to him than right then.

He continues, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward, but I love you, and I want a future with you. House, kids, taxes, all of it.”

You fake gasp, “Even taxes?”

“Especially taxes,” He smiles as he plays into your dramatics, “Like I said, I don’t mean right now. I know there’s like thirty steps we have to take before then. But I’m here for all of it.”

“Spence…” You tearfully smile, “I love you, and I want all of it too.”

Spencer couldn’t be more happy as he slowly leans in to kiss you, lingering so you know just how happy he is. He pulls back and peppers kisses all over your face while you giggle, “Okay, okay!”

He presses one last big kiss on your forehead, cartoonish noise and all, and he wraps you up in his arms tightly.

“So…did something happen today that made you tell me?” You ponder. Of course you’d been thinking about a future with Spencer. but you didn’t know that he felt the same way, and so seriously at that.

He mumbles into your shoulder, “You were playing with that baby in the Target checkout line. And I’m not kidding, all day I couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d look like carrying our child.”

You grin wickedly, “You really wanna knock me up that bad, huh?”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea the restraint I had today to not pounce on you in the middle of the store. I would have risked the life ban in a heartbeat.”

“Yeah?” You glide your finger down his chest, “What did you wanna do?”

Spencer smirks, seeing the game you’re playing. “Well, I was thinking about this book I read on the best positions for maximum fertility.”

“So you read porn—“

“It’s not porn!” He chuckles, “It’s a real scientific study they did in Cambridge about if different positions induce fertility due to the variances in angle of the male ejaculation, and whether it would increase the rate of fertilization. It was actually really fascinating. They had the subjects do it inside the MRI machine.”

You can’t help but feel flustered, “I can't believe that turned me on.”

“I also know that you’re ovulating right now, so all your sexual senses are heightened.”

“I know I should find that funny, but it’s actually so fucking hot that you know that.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders to bring his head closer to your ear as you whisper, “Wanna go try them out?”

Spencer’s eyes darken and he immediately reacts, “Jump.” holding your thighs up so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You giggle a little above his head, cupping it with both hands as you lean down to kiss him while he walks to your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed with a squeal before working his shirt off, watching you slowly peel your own shirt off and shimmy out of your pants leaving you bare in a bra and panties.

He lets out a groan, “I think you’re trying to kill me.” He climbs over your body and leans down to attack your neck, one hand holding one of yours above your head the other trailing its way down. A finger traces the outline of your panties, pressing down on the wet patch near your entrance.

You moan languishly and he smirks at your reaction, “I got you, okay baby? Gonna make you feel so good.”

His finger finally slides past the fabric and makes contact with your cunt, gathering the slick and spreading it all over you. Breathless moans escape you, and by the time you’re used to one finger the fucker adds another finger and rests his thumb on your clit drawing soft circles.

The feeling of his fingers sliding so easily in and out of you is terrifyingly intoxicating, and you can’t seem to get enough. He can feel you squeezing his fingers and by your increased moans he knows you’re close, “C’mon pretty girl, you can do it.”

The little praise he gives you is enough to send you over the edge, and you’d be embarrassed at how easily it affected you if you weren’t so overcome with coming down from your peak. You slowly regain your bearing through heavy breaths and look up at him above you with hooded eyes, “Jesus, Spence.”

A wide smirk plasters on his face as he stands up from the bed, “Just getting started baby.” He makes work of his belt buckle and slides it off while you crawl over to help him with pulling his zipper down. You tug his pants down enough to expose his bulge, and you lightly palm him through his boxer.

A deep groan rumbles through his throat, his hands coming up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail as watches you slowly pull him out of boxers. He’s achingly hard, tip red and throbbing. You coo at him, “Poor thing, must’ve been painful today keeping this in, when all you wanted to do was come inside me, hm?” a strangled noise leaves him as you continue, “I know you really wanna sink your dick in me, but can I have just a little taste?”

The doe eyes you give him as you speak your lewd words has him nearly teetering over the edge and you haven’t even put your mouth on him yet. He nods vigorously, not trusting words to do him good and watches himself slowly disappear down into your throat, further and further back until he hits something hard and you gag a little. He mutters a sorry that sounds like a half cry half moan, but the way his hips are subconsciously thrusting into you and the hand that’s gripping your hair guiding you so, tells you he might not actually be that sorry.

“Fu—uu—uck.” his head tilts back as the overly enunciated curse flies out of his mouth. Your head bobs with a ferocity on his cock, using your hand to pump whatever you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Spencer thinks this is what heaven must be like, that you an angel personified have brought the pearly gates down onto the Earth and blessed him with your mouth.

You continue to take him into your throat for a few more seconds before you feel a sharp tug on your hair that wasn’t meant to hurt but might’ve felt that way with how desperate Spencer needed you off of him.

“What happened?” you ask, voice raspy and confused.

He breathes heavily, “Don’t wanna come in your mouth.” you giggle and sit up on your knees and Spencer closes the distance by reaching for your head in both hands and pulling you in for a long kiss.

“Turn around.” he whispers low, gently pushing you onto your stomach the second your back is to him. The anticipation builds as you can hear him remove the remainder of his clothing, and he climbs over you to unclip your bra and gently pull your panties over and off your legs.

He tosses them to the side and returns to looming above you while you’re splayed out on your stomach in front of him. You get on your forearms and arch your back, letting your ass and cunt be on full display for him knowing this was a position he loved. He can’t help himself but lean forward and swipe his tongue through your folds, groaning at how sweet you taste.

When he pulls off of you, you’re fully expecting his next move would be to finally be inside you. What you don’t expect, is him backing up a little and pulling your legs back towards him so you’re back to lying fully flat on the bed. Before you even have a chance to question him he’s crawling back over you and lowering his head to whisper hotly in your ear, “Have you ever tried this one?”

The long and soft whine you let out goes straight to his cock as he lines himself up at your entrance and slowly pushes in. Pushing past the folds of your cunt that wraps so perfectly around him, he’s in awe watching it enter you. You, on the other hand, are on a different planet from the feeling the new position is giving you. He’s deeper than he’s ever been in you, reaching spots you didn’t even know existed, his hands pressing onto your back so hard you know there’s going to be imprints later.

The moans escaping from you are consumed by the sheets beneath you, his pace unrelenting as he holds you in place and ruts into you.

“Spence..” you whine softly.

The weight of his hands press your body further into the mattress as he leans down right next to ear and whispers hotly, “Yeah, baby?

The emotions builds in you fast and the need to kiss him becomes stronger, “Wanna see you…Need to see you.”

His hips stutter at the tone of your voice, so whiny and desperate, all for him. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky, how he became the object of all your desires, how everyday you wake up and it’s him you choose repeatedly, and will continue to choose for the rest of time. You’ve always loved him, it was a fact you made sure that he knew every single day.

When he flips you over with a gentleness, he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, hoping that the synergy flows between your contact and you can feel it in every nerve ending, just how in love he is with you. He think you got the message as he watches you move your hand between your bodies to grab at his cock and slowly guide back inside you while you both watch him push fully into you again.

He looks down between your bodies and watches his cock move in and out of you, mesmerized by the ring of slick that reappears with every pull out. It’s nearly automatic the way his thumb reaches for your clit and moves his eyes upward to watch you completely unravel at the hands of his touch.

Your brows are furrowed together in pleasure, “Fuck…’m close.” you mutter through a whine.

His hips snap to meet yours rapidly, “Yeah? Me too…” he taps your leg to lift it onto his shoulder, deepening his angle and circling you around the throes of your release. He grunts out, “Gonna let me put a baby in you?”

You clench down on him hard with a loud moan, neither of you expecting the effect his words had on you. Spencer chuckles and bends down to press love bites into the crook of your neck before trailing back up to your ear and whispers, “Didn’t think you’d be into me talking like that…you really want everyone to know who fucks you good every night? Want them to see you walk around with our baby in your belly?”

Your moans are uncontrollable at this point, it’s a miracle you can still hear him over the incoherent, borderline babbling sounds you’re making. He doesn’t relent as his hand slides up your neck to grip your jaw to hold your head in place, “Say it, I wanna hear you say it.”

A whimper falls out of you, “I—fuck—I want y—you…”

His hips slow down their pace, “Not good enough, sweetheart. Tell me what you want.”

The tiniest panic rises in you at the thought of him stopping, “No, don’t stop! Spencer, please. I want a baby, please want it all with you, please, please.” You realize in that moment you were never above begging to begin with, not when he’s between your legs offering you the world from the comfort of your sheets.

His pace quickens and groans at your pleas, leaning down closer so he’s chest to chest with you, “Oh, sweet girl,” he pants, “You’ll look so pretty carrying our kid, gonna drive me crazy watching you walk around.”

A string of moans trail out of your mouth, encompassed by the feeling of him inside you, the thoughts of your future together only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You weakly breath out, “Come inside me, please. Wanna make you a daddy.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear reach his peak and release into your cunt, rhythmic moans punctuating every thrust. Your grip on him tightens as you squeeze out every last drop of him. He feels himself become soft and gently pulls out, watching his come drip out of your hole. With a whimper he delicately picks up the excess with two fingers and enters you again, eliciting a languished whimper to match his.

“I know, I know, baby. Did so good for me, ‘m so proud of you.” he mumbles, watching the white coat his fingers as they move inside you. “Can you give me one more? Just one, I promise. Look so pretty like this, I can’t help it.”

You’re about to protest, feeling the sensitivity get the better of you when the pleasure hits again, another moan escaping you clearly telling him you can take it.

It’s a softer orgasm this time, a smaller peak but still lust filled and has you panting heavily as you come down from it. Spencer finally collapses on the bed next to you, his chest also heaving.

“You okay, baby?” he mumbles after a few minutes.

Words can’t fulfill you right now and all you can offer is a nod as you lazily lull your head over to him. He nods and reluctantly gets up from the bed despite your pout with a promise to be so quick, and returns with a wet cloth, a water bottle, and a fresh set of clothes for you. You let him gingerly clean you up before he helps dress you and slips right back into place beside you with a kiss to your temple.

“I love you…so much,” he whispers while pulling you into his embrace, “I really can’t wait to start a family with you.”

You hum contentedly, tilting your head up to press a kiss to his jaw, “I love you too.”

A few moments pass before he speaks again, “But…you’re still—“

“Still on birth control, baby. Don’t worry.”

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

(Dark!) BNHA: You're a lesbian

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

Boys -> Hawks + Dabi + Bakugo + Mirio

Reaction: Revealing your sexual orientation to your kidnapper is more tense that you expected.

WARNINGS: Kidnapped reader; Manipulation; Threats; Discrimination against LGBTQ.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback. 🙂

–

“I like girls.” 

The words escape from your lips, rushed and dripping of anxiety, and you immediately bite your tongue, already regretting your confession. 

Hawks

“Yeah, I know.” he yawns, rubbing his eyes. “Damn, I’m so tired right now. Think I might head to bed early.”

“Wait!” you grab his hand in a frantic move, stopping him from leaving the couch.

“Wh-What do you mean ‘you know’? If you knew, then why did you take me?!” 

“Cause I love you.” Keigo calmly says, as if that answers everything. “And truth be told, the whole lesbian thing seems like an insignificant detail to me.” 

Your whole face drops at that and Keigo immediately reaches for you, cooing. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that.” he consoles you, even though there’s a slight curl of his lip that proves the lack of regret or sadness. “But, in all honesty, that doesn’t really matter, does it? You’re here now, with me. You can like whoever you want, really. But c’mon, babe, we both know damn well that the only person you’re gonna have is me.”

“But I don’t love you.” you weakly try. 

“Yet. You don’t love me yet.” Keigo corrects you, booping your nose with a kiss. “But that’s gonna change real soon, I bet. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, I promise."

"Cause it’s either me or no one.” 

Dabi

“Yeah? Don’t you say.” 

You blink at him, fighting back the anxiety and confusion that bubbles inside you.

Dabi approaches you, the corner of his mouth twitching as an amused smile takes over. He reaches closer as he sits on the verge of the bed, a bit too close for your comfort.

If you could, you’d put some distance between you - but the solid chain on your ankle doesn’t allow you to do so. 

“What makes you think I give a fuck about that?” his smile widens at your confusion, all teeth and staples stretching. “Lesbian or not, you’re still mine.”

Your eyes load up with warm tears, a pitiful reaction that is starting to become too frequent. But you guess you can’t blame yourself when a half-burned villain is keeping you captive and chained up. 

“I can’t be who you want me to be.” you whisper with a voice low. Begging with your eyes. “Please.”

Long fingers reach for your face, uncomfortably hot, as they brush a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Sounds like a problem you’ve created for yourself. What makes you think I give a damn about what you are or what you aren’t?” his smile gets cruel, sadistic. “I don’t really care about any of that shit.”

“Cause lesbian or not, I’m still gonna make you spread those pretty legs wide for me.”

Mirio

You bitterly watch as Mirio spits out thunderous laughter, grabbing his belly as if you’ve just told him the funniest joke ever.

“Now that…that was really funny!” he says, breathless as another fit of laughter makes its way up. “Didn’t know you were so humorous, huh. My girl has a sense of humor, I like that.” 

You dodge when he tries to pat down your hair. 

“It’s not a joke.”

“Of course it is.” Mirio contradicts you with a big grin. “And a good one.”

“Mirio…”

You barely have time to react before his lips are pushing against yours, soft and firm.

His hand sneaks to grab the back of your head with his palm, forcing you to stay put and take his kiss. He tastes like mint, fresh and clean. 

“You’re so silly.” Mirio laughs when he finally parts away the kiss. “My silly little girl. See, if you were lesbian, then you wouldn’t have kissed me. That means you’re not…that.” 

“Besides, if you really were a lesbian,” he starts, smile is still present, wide and shiny, but his voice is stiff, restrained. “that wouldn’t be good. Not for you, at least. Cause I’d have to take some really serious measures to get you back on track. But I know that won’t be necessary, right?”

And you’re too scared to argue back when he pats your head, satisfied with your submission.

Bakugo

“Uh?” 

His sharp features frown, shock and surprise clearly taking the best of him. 

The way he opens his mouth, only to close it when no words come out - and the repetition of this sequence for a few times - is almost comical, but the deeply engraved fear in your heart doesn’t allow you to find any sort of humor in this situation. 

Bakugo claims to love you. As a man loves a woman. 

So it’s only understandable that his reaction to you confessing to liking women isn’t gonna be euphoric.

Part of you is scared that he might hurt you, beat you to a bloody pulp until you change your mind. You hope he doesn’t.  

“Cut the crap.” he shakes his head, deep frown between his brows. “I know you’re not…lesbian or whatever.” 

“I am.” 

“No.” 

“Bakugo, please.” you plead. “I really am. I’ve always been-”

“The fuck you are, damnit!” he snaps, raising himself so hard that the poor chair underneath him violently stumbles back, falling to the ground with a loud thump.

You wince, but Bakugo doesn’t reach for you, as you expected him to. Instead, he remains standing, hands tightly clenched around nothing and jaw rigidly set. “I know damn well what you are, don't try to fool me!” 

“I-”

“This one of your stupid little stunts, isn't it?” he cuts you off. You yelp when his hand flies forward, wrapping itself around your forearm and pulling you dangerously close to him. “Last week was the good girl act to try to escape and this week you’re pulling this shit up? Fucking behave, will you?”  

“I-”

“Shut your mouth, damnit!” a shiver runs down your spine as he glares at you, clearly pissed off. “The only words I wanna hear coming from you are apologizes.” 

“And don’t fucking piss me off with that crap again or you might not like what I’ll do.”

[milkteabinniechan]

Thoughts on Chan going to see his physical therapist and his regular old guy therapist has a thing scheduled so he sends a replacement - a hot, young and capable replacement, and Chan finds himself popping a boner while the PT is pretzeling him, causing him temporary extreme pain and lasting pain relief right after? Assuming this new therapist is also vulnerable to Chan's charms, even if they aren't a Stay (yet).

Oh sweet lord I LOVE THIS IDEAAAAAA.

a/n: cliffhanger because this will definitely be a full story soon 🫡

MINORS DNI

PART TWO IS HERE

just relax - chan

Chan headed to his usual room. He made himself comfortable on the padded folding bed when he heard the door open.

"You won't believe the stupid thing I did, Doc. I was tryi-..." Chan's words lingered in his mouth.

You walked in with pink scrubs and a bright smile. Your dark hair tied loosely in a bun with small strands of hair falling lazily around your round cheeks. You weren't Chan's regular guy. He had never seen you before. You were... hot.

"Wh-Where's Dr. Weston?" Chan's voice was hoarse in his throat.

You gave a sympathetic smile. "He had a family emergency, so I'm covering all his patients. Shall we get started?"

You set your clipboard down and made your way to Chan who had changed his seating to an upright and respectful position. His heart was pounding through his ears like kettle drums. You cocked your head and gave him a curious look. You asked him to show you where it hurt. Your voice was soft.

"H-here." Chan motioned to his shoulder and hip.

You scanned his entire body and slowly ran your hands from the top of his shoulder down to his wrist. You searched his face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

"How does that feel?" You rubbed deep into his collar bone. Your fingers applying small amounts of pressure to where the muscle felt tightest.

Chan pressed his lips together into a thin line. He held his breath and nodded his head. Not exactly an answer, but the pain was beginning to prove to be more than he expected. You lifted your hands and instructed him to lay down. You wait for him to lay flat on his back. You ask him how his day has been and if he has plans later, while you lift his leg and bend it up towards his chest.

Chan watched as you lay your body on top of his bent leg, adding pressure to the stretch. Lightning bolts of pain shot up from his hip and screamed into the neurons of his brain. Nerve ends were desperately pleading for the stretch to stop but when Chan made eye contact with you, something else happened.

The longer Chan stared into your eyes, the more his cock began to grow. Just a twitch at first. But then you pushed deeper into him. The table creaked as you applied more of your weight onto Chan's bent leg. The pain was giving way to pleasure, a new pleasure, that his thin gym shorts were not going to be able to cover.

The outline of the tip of his cock was glaringly obvious as Chan's ears burned crimson red. Please don't look down, please don't look down. Chan kept repeating in his head. You grunted in frustration as you turned your head back towards his feet to see if you could get a better angle.

"Let's try the other leg." You layed Chan's leg down softly on the padded table and began to reach for the other leg when your eyes caught site of the growing appendage laying in front of you.

You looked up at Chan who had his face covered with both hands.

[archangeldyke-all]

imagine isha doing that thing that mute kids sometimes do, where they suddenly say a word/sentence or two out loud n then go back to being completely mute for a few years. imagine you’re tucking her in like “ily isha, sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite” and she goes “ok. goodnight. mac & cheese.” and you never hear her talk again

also i love your writing 🩷🩷

this is so fucking funny god

men and minors dni

jinx has always claimed that isha speaks to her on occasion. you and sevika are always skeptical. a lot of isha's squeaks can sound like words-- and jinx tends to hear voices that aren't really there more than most people.

it takes a year of living together before one of you catches it in person.

sevika runs into the kitchen so fast she almost knocks over a chair. "babe, babe!" she says with a giddy smile. you giggle.

"what?"

"isha-- she just talked!" sevika laughs. "she doesn't know i heard her-- she was puttin' her socks on and her toe popped out of a hole, and she went; 'awe fuck!'" sevika imitates.

you burst into laughter. "are you sure?! you didn't just mishear one of her little grunts?"

"babe, i know what i heard. i read about this, y'know. sometimes, mute kids just randomly talk. and jinx said she's heard it before! i guess... i guess she really liked those socks!" sevika cackles. "you shoulda heard her little voice cursin' baby, oh my god!" sevika can't stop laughing.

for a long time, you don't quite believe her story. you're sure your wife thought she heard your kid curse, but you aren't convinced that isha can talk at all.

until she talks to you.

almost two years after sevika claims she hears isha talk, you're tucking her into bed like any other night. isha's pointing out various poisonous frog species to you in her favorite 'dangerous animals' book, and you're playing with her hair, kissing her head occasionally.

"if i was a poision dart frog, i think i'd be pink and purple. what about you?"

isha taps her chin while she considers your question, then signs with a smile. blue and yellow! you laugh. of course she'd pick her favorite colors.

"nice. what do you think jinx and big mama would be?"

jinxie is blue and purple and big mama is green!

"you've got it all figured out, huh?"

isha nods with a yawn. you chuckle.

"alright-- i think it's bedtime. c'mon, get comfy." isha hands her book to you and crawls under her covers. when she settles, she scrunches her face just a bit and lets out a fart. you giggle. "got your dutch oven going, huh?" you ask. she laughs.

"do frogs fart?" isha asks.

you freeze, staring at isha as she blinks up at you with big eyes, waiting for an answer. "wh-- did you--"

do they? she signs.

you burst into laughter and pull isha into your arms. "i have no idea!" you laugh. "oh my god!" isha giggles in your arms, confused by your reaction but enjoying the barrage of kisses you're giving her regardless. "i love you so much you silly little girl."

isha gets sick of your cuddles, elbowing you and signing. look it up on your phone! she whines. you cackle.

"okay, okay!" you laugh as you pull out your phone to google isha's question.

sevika and jinx are never going to believe this.

or... maybe they will.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion @dancingqu33n17 @losernb

[kaiawrites]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES (halloween fic)

lando norris x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

prompt(s): “You okay? Your face is red.” “Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally, it’s just the weather.” & "Oh my god, your room is so dirty. How do you live here?" "If you're so bothered by it, clean it up." "Fuck off. I'm not your servant." "You act like one." "I. Said. Fuck. Off."

warnings: slightly creepy guy calls the reader a wh*re, minor violence/blood (just a bar fight), the rest is pretty fluffy

a/n: posting my 'once in every 3 years' post, happy halloween for the lando girlies! I haven't proofread this, so sorry for any mistakes

"Have you seen my black T-shirt, I'm sure it was here. I swear I saw it here," you heard Lando’s voice call out from across your shared flat. 

"Oh, the one that looked like a rag? Yeah, I threw it away," you replied as you continued drying off your dishes.

“What!” you heard Lando shriek. "You little shit, come here!" You snickered as an angry, shirtless, Lando stormed into your kitchen.

“Clam down Norris, I didn’t touch any of your shit I have no idea where your goddamn T-shirt is,” you laughed at the Brit’s unamused face as you put away the last of the dishes. “Come on, I’ll help you look for it,” you said, though you did not expect what you found when you reached Lando’s room. Rarely did you ever come into each other’s room; so you hadn’t seen it’s inside in a while. Clothes were strewn about on every flat surface, cups and plates you’d been missing for weeks scattered about and his bedsheets practically on the floor. No wonder he couldn’t find his stupid t-shirt.

"Oh my god, your room is so messy. How do you live here?" you laughed, your roommate glowering further at you. Clearly, he did not find you as funny as you found yourself.

"If you're so bothered by it, clean it up."

"Fuck off. I'm not your servant." 

"Well, you act like one, darling," now a teasing smile curling his lips.

“Then you can find your shirt on your own, Norris,” you said, giving him a bitter smile before exiting his room. You knew damn well there was no way you would've been able to find anything in his mess of a room. Anyways, you had to start getting ready too, since you were soon to be on your way to a Halloween party. Your costume was quite simple, just a regular red mini-dress and some devil horns on a headband, so it didn’t take you very long once you’d gotten your makeup down. 

“Come on Norris we’re gonna be late!” You called out, checking your phone for the time. In truth, you were already late, but you were about to be later than was acceptable if Lando didn’t come down soon. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. Unluckily, however, it seemed that Lando had gone absolutely insane and dumped a gallon of glitter on his skin.

“Is that your costume?” You asked. Lando looked down at himself and nodded proudly, glitter falling off at the movement. “I thought you were being a vampire..?”

“I am,” Lando replied, a permanent proud and shit-eating grin on his face. “You know, like the ones from Twilight.”

“You’re going to embarrass me,” you said in exasperation.

“I know, that’s the point, love,” Lando replied smugly. “Let’s go now, you don’t want to be late, do you?” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him out.

———

Lando watched from the bar as you stumbled off the dance floor and looked around, a bright, dazed smile tugging at your lips when you spotted him. Jesus christ you were beautiful. Not that you weren’t always beautiful, Lando knew you were, but there were moments where you seemed more than beautiful. Moments like this one, where you headed toward him, the glistening of your skin reflecting the club lights, looking at him expectantly as you awaited his answer.

“What?” Lando said, breaking out of his stupor and nearly blushing at how he’d completely missed your question. You laughed at his confusion, before leaning closer. Lando’s heart skipped a beat, and for an imperceptible moment, he thought you were going to kiss him. But of course, the moment passed as you leaned into his ear, repeating your unanswered question more clearly. 

“Why aren’t you having fun?” you asked smoothly, revealing a faux pout as you drew back. Lando let out a chuckle.

“I am having fun, love,” he replies.

“No, you’re standing here watching the rest of us have fun,” you replied, matter-of-factly. “Come oooonnn, Norris, come dance with me.” Lando stared into your puppy-dog eyes, ready to give in and come make a fool of himself on the dance floor for you, before he was cut off by an unknown, and unwelcome voice.

“Forget him, I’ll dance with you,” the voice said, its owner getting far too touchy with you for Lando’s liking.

“Uhm, no thank you,” you answered, all your previous mirth dissipating into discomfort.

“Come on babe, I promise, I’m fun,” the evidently drunk man repeated, 

“I’m alright, thanks,” you said, refusing once more. The man didn’t reply this time, instead choosing to grab your wrist in order to lead you toward the floor.

“She said no, mate,” Lando cut in dryly. The man turned toward Lando, anger simmering beneath his stare.

“Look, you can drop the act mate, I’ve seen her whoring around all night, I know that’s not your girl. She’s free game,” he slurred.

“What did you just call her?” Lando spat. The guy laughed at what Lando could only assume the man thought was an empty threat. However, Lando didn’t give him a chance to retaliate.

“Lando!” you exclaimed as both men went down. The next moments were a blur of fists and bloodied faces, until Lando was suddenly pulled off the man by a security guard. He turned to see you looking all at once scared, worried, relieved and angry. Lando looked back down at the drunk guy, and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk at the state he’d left him in, even as the security guard escorted him out of the bar.

———

���Are you mad at me?” Lando broke the heavy silence as you walked into your flat. You sighed deeply, turning around to face him for the first time since you’d been kicked out of the bar. 

“Of course not, just… promise you won’t do anything like that ever again. I mean, I know you’re an idiot, but that was even more stupid than usual,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood, but Lando still stared at you, uncharacteristically unreadable.

“I can’t promise that, I would do it again if I had to.”

You stared at him intently, searching for any sign of Lando’s usual playfulness, but you only found earnest eyes and a clenched jaw. You averted your gaze, not knowing what to do with this uncharacteristic behaviour. Instead, you turned toward the bathroom, hearing Lando’s shuffling feet as he trailed after you. Rummaging through a drawer, you pulled out a first aid kit and turned back toward Lando to find him almost comically standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Sit,” you said more harshly than you intended, gesturing toward the ledge of the bathtub. Lando heeded your command, silently taking a spot where you’d directed him. After wiping off the remainder of his face paint and glitter, you began by cleaning up the cut on Lando’s nose, soaking a towel with cold water and dabbing it at the cut. Lando flinched and hissed at the contact. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you chided with a chuckle, though there was no malice in it.

“I am not a baby,” Lando scoffed with a small smile. After cleaning and patching up the cut on his nose, you moved on to his split lip, hesitating a moment before bringing the towel to it. Lando’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly at the contact, but he didn’t wince this time. You focused on intently cleaning the wound, and once you were done, you set aside the towel. You turned back toward Lando to find his face tinged a bright red.

“Are you okay? Your face just got all red?” you inquired, looking him over for any sign of an injury you might have missed.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally. It’s the, uhm, weather,” Lando replied, his voice breaking on the first word. You looked at him, deadpan.

“We’ve been inside for a solid ten minutes, Norris,” you stated.

“Well, y’know what I mean, it’s like, warm in here or something,” he rectified, his face somehow flushing further. A small smirk formed on your lips.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flustered, Norris,” you teased as you finished cleaning up the small cut.

“What? Flustered? By you?” He replied, his voice an octave higher and cadence a tad faster than usual, only proving your point further. You disposed of the gauze, turning back toward him and cupping his face in your hands. You smirked and raised an eyebrow at his widening eyes and ever-flushed face. “Okay, okay, maybe I am,” he admitted.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” You taunted him. Lando’s eyes searched your face for any sign of humour, but found only sincerity. With that, he leaned in, closing the remaining distance between the two of you. The kiss was slow and purposeful, free of any of the teasing which usually permeated all your interactions. This was something else, communicating a kind of sincerity your words could hardly convey.

“Thank you,” you added after parting from the kiss.

“What? For kissing you?” Lando answered with a chuckle. “‘Cause I can do it again.”

“For sticking up for me. It was dangerous and reckless and please don’t do it again. But thank you, still. I appreciate it.”

“Well, like I said, I would do it again. That fucker had it coming, messing with my girl.” He replied, brushing the pad of his thumb on your cheek.

“Your girl, huh?” You echoed teasingly.

“If she wants to be, that is?” Lando replied. You hummed, contemplating.

“If he takes me on a date, I might consider it,” you settled on, turning to exit the bathroom, though you didn’t miss Lando’s hushed, dragged out yes, and you giggled as you imagined him pumping his fist. He followed you out, and you both settled on the couch, seemingly in agreement to watch a movie. You tossed Lando the remote.

“Your turn to pick,” you said, as you had picked the movie last time. After a moment, Lando settled on a movie and pressed play. “A horror movie?” You inquired. “You’re terrified of those.”

“Am not!” Lando replied petulantly. 

“Yes, you are,” you laughed, doubling over as the first jumpscare of the movie made Lando jump in his place. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh, even if it was at his expense. In fact, he would gladly make an idiot out of himself every day if it meant making you laugh like that. And maybe Lando really was terrified of horror movies, but maybe he’d also purposely picked a horror movie so he’d have an excuse to hide his face on your shoulder, and maybe, just maybe, you were glad he’d picked a horror movie because you too, wanted and excuse to keep him close tonight.

[luvyeni]

𐙚 : UNINTENTIONALLY TURNING NCT DREAM ON (reaction) ֶָ֢ !

content warning. mentions of sex , boob play, perv nct dream?

request: accidentally turning dream on??

authors note. i hope you like it 🤍🫰🏽!!!

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

𐙚 : MARK ֶָ֢ !

so confused , your hand is on his leg — are you doing this in purpose? should he make the first move? he didn't know; but what he did know is that he was getting hornier with ever touch and it seems like you didn't even know what was happening, blissfully unaware on your phone. he let it go on for a minute until he couldn't handle it anymore , he needed you to touch his cock. "baby." you hear your boyfriend say. "pl-please stop teasing me." you heard the desperation in his voice , confused. "what do you mean— oh." you saw the buldge in his pants. "im sorry i didn't know." you said.

"fuck i know , but please i need you now."

𐙚 : RENJUN ֶָ֢ !

it was hi fault , he was the perv here he knew that — you only wanted to sit on his lap , nothing more , but he was only human , and his pretty girlfriend sitting in his lap , it was hard for him not to pop a boner. you sat so pretty on top of him , laughing along with whatever haechan was talking about. he waited patiently until he couldn't, wrapping his arms around your waist , pulling you flush against his chest. "junie?" you questioned, your voice above a whisper. "you're hard." his hand rubbed a fire igniting in your stomach. "you look so pretty baby , im sorry I couldn't help it." he said. "you wanna help me out?" you bit your lip nodding , feeling him grind his hips against your ass. "fuck."

"just like that baby -fuck- just let me use you like this."

𐙚 : JENO ֶָ֢ !

when you asked for a shirt to wear , he didn't say anything , just reaching for a shirt , handing it to you , going back to his phone — he didn't even pay attention when you got out of the shower , until he felt you get into the bed , planting a innocent kiss on his cheek. he finally got a good look at you , cursing once he saw your sleep attire. a pair of undies , and his shirt that went to your knees — his cock began to harden in his sweats; and you didn't even know, looking for something to read on your phone. "love." he whispered, putting his phone down. "you're so pretty." you smiled thinking it was just him being sweet , until you turned to him , his darkened eyes shocking you. "wh-whats wrong?" you gasped feeling his hands on your thighs. "you look so pretty in my shirt." he pulled you down on your back, climbing on top of you, freeing his cock — slapping against stomach.

"need to fuck you in it."

𐙚 : HAECHAN ֶָ֢ !

doesn't care if you did it unintentionally , he's horny now and he's needs you to help him out. "hyuck , what are you doing?" you felt his hands reaching up your shirt. "you aren't wearing a bra." he groaned , feeling his cock against your thigh. "i-it made my back hurt so i took it off." you sighed as his hands engulfed your boob, squeezing it , pinching your nipples. "hyuck." you moaned , the fact that you weren't even sure why he was so turned on , you've went without a bra before around him. "you're just so hot , it makes me so hard." he groaned, grinding against your leg. "you feel so good." he fondled your tits , humping your leg like a dog in head — he couldn't take it anymore , climbing over your body.

"i need to be inside you."

𐙚 : JAEMIN ֶָ֢ !

knows you don't know what you're doing to him , and that's what he finds so attractive about , you're simply just touching his thigh and he's harder than a fucking rock. jaemin scrolling through his phone while you watch a tv , everything was normal, until you put your hand on his thigh. jaemins eyes darted from his phone to your hand — he turned to you, and you were completely unaware of what you were doing. "baby." he purred , you turned to him with that innocent wide eyed smile. "yes nana?" he took your hand into his big hand , slowly guiding up. "jaemin." you gasped as he started to buck up into your hand, his cock twitching in your small hand.

"nana needs you , can you help nana out?"

𐙚 : CHENLE ֶָ֢ !

chenle doesn't believe for a second that you're not aware of what you were doing — bending over in that skirt right in front of him , you must want attention , right? well no exactly you actually did drop something and chenle just happened to walk in at that moment; but when he comes up behind you , growling in your ear how much of a slut you are , his cock grinding against your ass, who are you to deny. "such a whore , desperate to be touch , bend over." he forces your body into a arch , lifting your skirt up. "look at this, cunt already wet." he slapped your ass. "ready to be fuck." he freed his cock , pushing himself inside you, both of you moaned out.

"that's it moan for me like the whore you are."

𐙚 : JISUNG ֶָ֢ !

his brain has stopped functioning fully — you're rubbing his thigh; do you want to have sex? are you doing it just because? he didn't know, but he was horny now regardless. "um baby?" he coughed nervously. "yes sungie?" he bit back a groan and you were so unaware , continuing to rub his thigh , close to his cock. "um , you-you're." he his eyes pointed down , you followed finally realizing. "oh jisung I'm sorry." you said , his cock was fighting to be freed. "do you need help?" he nodded , groaning out — his head thrown back as you palmed him through his shorts. "does that feel good." he felt you kissing his neck , his hips moving.

"fu-fuck keep doing that , gonna cum in my pants"

©️LUVYENI

[midnightquips]

What We Never Were

Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Y/N needs a fake boyfriend for her sister’s wedding. Jake Seresin, her childhood best friend, is all too happy to play the part—until pretending starts to feel dangerously real. One bed. Old feelings. A week of dancing around the truth. She thinks he’s out of reach. He’s just been waiting for her to see him.

Themes: fake dating, bestfriends to lovers, pining, slow burn, fluff

🔴 MINORS DNI 🔴 Warnings: 18+ content, eventual smut, dirty talk, praise kink, jealousy, soft aftercare, pwp, piv sex, unprotected sex, mild praise kink, foreplay

💫 What We Never Were Masterlist 📌 Sign Up for TAGLIST

Author's note: SURPRISE!!!!

Chapter 4

Part III – Stop Lying to Yourself

You don’t even try to argue.

Jake keeps your hands entwined while dragging you with him through the side gate of the vineyard, down the stone path that leads toward your parents’ house. The sun dips fast behind the hills, casting streaks of amber and rust across the stones. You stumble once in your heels trying to keep up.

“Jake, can you slow down?”

He doesn’t. Not until you’re inside and the door slams shut behind you. The silence hits hard.

Perfect.

He drops your hand like it burns him. Not because he’s angry—because he looks like he might explode if he doesn’t get a second to breathe. He starts pacing the living room like a man who’s barely holding himself together.

“What the hell are you doing?” you demand, arms crossed tight under your chest.

“No more avoiding this,” he snaps. “What are you so afraid of?”

You open your mouth, but he bulldozes through the denial faster than you can say it.

“Yes, you are.”

His voice is stripped down, exhausted. You’ve never seen him like this—no bravado, no cocky grin. Just Jake, raw and bare and pacing like he’s been caged too long.

“You’re scared this thing between us might be real. That it’s not just some fantasy or some mistake.”

Your chest tightens before you finally find your voice. “You think this is easy for me? You think I haven’t stayed up at night imagining what it would mean to lose you?”

“You think I haven’t?” Jake’s laugh is sharp and hollow. “I’ve spent years pretending I didn’t feel anything every time you told me about another guy. Pretending we weren’t both dying for more when we slept in the same room. I’ve loved you so quietly I forgot what it felt like to speak it out loud.”

You feel yourself flinch, but you can’t look away. “What.. What are you saying?” 

“What I’m saying is, I want you, Y/N. All of you. I want to wake up next to you. I want to come home to you. I want to fight with you about what to watch on Netflix and make up with you in the shower.”

You shake your head, words thick. “Jake—”

“No,” he says, stepping closer. “You don’t get to pretend you don’t want that too.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

His voice drops low, nearly trembling. “Then tell me. Tell me you felt nothing last night. Tell me you didn’t call my name like you meant it. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now. Look me in the eye and say it—and I swear, I’ll walk out of here.”

You open your mouth.

You wanted to say something—anything to make it all go away. You wanted to push him back, scream, slam a door. But the words didn’t come. Because he wasn’t wrong. And god, were you exhausted trying to deny it.

It truly terrified you more than anything else, but you craved to unload the burden at the same time.

Jake sees it. He sees everything—your shaking jaw, the tears you blink too fast, the way your feet betray you by stepping just a little closer.

“Thought so,” he says.

The silence stretches.

“I… I can’t do this,” you stutter. “You’re my best friend. If this goes wrong—if we go wrong—I lose you. Don’t you get that?”

Jake exhales, steps even closer, gaze burning. “You don’t lose me, Y/N. You lose me when you keep pretending this isn’t real.”

You open your mouth to argue—

And he kisses you.

Hard.

To shut you up. To stop your spiral. To make you feel it.

You melt into it with a soft whimper, fingers knotting in his shirt, and he groans like he’s been starving for you.

Jake wraps his arm around your waist and walks you backward down the hallway. His lips never leave yours and when you hit the bedroom, he kicks the door shut.

You don’t protest. You don’t pause.

You just let yourself to finally want this. To want him.

He pulls back just enough to whisper, voice wrecked against your mouth.

“Not letting you run this time, darling.”

You look directly in his eyes, breath catching. “I’m not running.”

He grins—wild and sure and almost feral.

“Good.”

Because he’s about to make you his.

Taglist: @girlypopmymelody @malindacath @cheyrenee @laserpente @Lynnevanss @midnighttithe @mrsnikolestan @antheiagoddessofnarnia @yellowjm @itllbefineeeeee @dancethroughthethunder @kvmitchell @mrsevans90 @natureartisian @purplefluffycows @eolsens @lunatygerqueen @deadlybeauty16 @ronniesreverie @anony1080 @vicky199625 @teacupsandtopgun @dizzybee03 @stillinracooncity @7dreambaby @pogueprincesa @jackiehollanderr @cozyjess

[joelmillers-wife]

take my hand (joel miller x f!reader) chapter four

18+, MDNI series masterlist: here | please check this for complete series warnings and tags | 🎵series playlist pairing: joel miller x f!reader chapter summary: you do your best to avoid joel for weeks following your argument at the comic book store, but luck doesn’t seem to be on your side for long. wc: 4.6k rating: this story is 18+ (minors, do not interact), there will be eventual smut in later chapters  chapter warnings and tags: cursing and tlou lore accurate outbreak content below, TW: discussions of suicide and grief of a loved one, angst, reader has no description besides she has hair, jackson!joel, age difference: reader is in her 30s and joel is in his 50s, sloooow burn, enemies to friends to lovers type-beat ao3 | follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for chapters! dividers made by: @saradika-graphics , check them out!

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IV. LITTLE LION MAN

But it was not your fault but mine And it was your heart on the line I really fucked it up this time Didn't I, my dear?

On your first week off from patrol following that day at the comic book store, you isolated yourself. Trying your best to avoid as many people as possible by only leaving your house for absolute emergencies.

Maria had tried to come by and talk to you the day after your patrol with Joel. You assumed Tommy was still worried and had asked her to check on you, but you had dismissed her by assuring you were fine. Her expression showed she didn’t quite believe you—that she knew something must have happened, but she was kind enough to not push on the subject.

What hurt you the most was Ellie. 

She had shown up the first few days trying to get you out of your house and hang out with her, but you declined each time. You could tell it hurt her, that she was confused. Hell, it pained you. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t face anyone. She eventually withdrew into only trying to grab your attention when you would leave the house, but her smiles soon faded when all you would give her was a small wave as you kept moving. 

By the end of that first week, you were lucky enough to have avoided seeing Joel completely the entire time. Your luck soon ran out when you had gone to the Tipsy Bison for a drink that first weekend.

You walk in and make your way over to the bar counter to order a drink, resting your arms on the cool marble surface. Looking around the place, you take note of the area—a spacious restaurant-style bar with all kinds of animal heads mounted upon the walls. Old, tattered posters hang in the empty spaces, pool tables and dart boards in one corner of the place with tables filling the rest of the floor. Being a Saturday night, there were more people than usual, making the bar louder than you would have liked. Originally having the intent to drink in peace here, you decide to have your one drink and then go back home to avoid the noise.

Your fingers drum against the counter as you wait for your order—Seth said they were backed up a bit and your drink would take a second as he had to take food orders first. The sound of the doorbell chimes for what must be the dozenth time since you had gotten there, yet something about it felt different—it felt as if the air had shifted.

You hear the sounds of someone walking near you from behind, attempting to make their way around the other side of the bar counter when suddenly the footsteps stop. A quick squeaking sound of shoes rubbing onto the wood floor comes from directly behind you—a sound that, typically, you would not think anything of. Except, the figure doesn’t move, and you feel the intensity of someone’s gaze burning into the back of your skull.

Slowly, with a confused yet polite frown on your face, you spin around on your stool, turning towards the person. Joel.

Of fucking course.

You clench your jaw at the sight of him standing before you. You knew your avoidance of him couldn’t go on too long—you were never someone who’s luck lasted.

Joel might as well be a statue planted in the bar with the stillness that you see in him. He looks at you with his brows furrowed per usual, lips parted ever so slightly at the sight of you there. Surprisingly, the stoic look in his eyes you normally see in him is replaced by a gentler one—one that you remember seeing at the comic book store when you had let the truth of your lack of care for your safety slip from your lips.

His eyes are rounded just a bit, as if he is shocked to see you, making his brown eyes shine, something that makes him look softer—more… beautiful.

You wait a moment, unsure what to say or do, as the two of you continue to stare silently at each other. Wanting a break from the torture, you decide to speak up.

“Yes?” Your voice sounds so small and pathetic, it makes you angry. 

For a moment, you think— No… You hope that maybe he’ll say something. Maybe, just maybe, the awkward tension that has surrounded you for the past week has impacted him just as strongly, and that he’ll want to ease the tension himself, too.

Like you said, you had never been one to have your luck last too long.

Joel doesn’t say anything. He simply closes his mouth, clears his throat, and walks away from you and right back out of the bar. You stare after him dumbfounded, but scoff and shake your head before turning back around.

At that moment, Seth slides your drink your way before rushing off to help another guest seated at the bar. You grip the glass in your hand, forcing the bitter liquid to go down your throat, hoping to ignore the frustration that goes through you. 

How foolish you feel, to think that he might just fucking feel bad.

The following week was when you were set to return to your patrol schedules. Tommy had listened to your request to not work with Joel, at least, and you found that you had three different partners for your new shifts. They were fine enough—things went smoothly and without any chaos. You had seen them around town before, knew their names but not much about them, and your interactions never surpassed talking about patrol. It wasn’t much different than the conversations you would talk about with Joel, but it somehow felt more lonely.

Speaking of Joel—he kept looking at you. 

After your… interaction at the Tipsy Bison, it was as if he was everywhere—constantly around you after not seeing him at all for that first week before the bar. You’d be leaving your house, or coming back home, and you’d see him hovering on his porch watching you. He used to look at you with a frown that held anger behind it. These times, he looked at you with a frown, but there was a softness there. It was almost in a shy manner, his furrowed brows showcasing a sense of concern rather than annoyance. 

That stupid hope you had before that he would say something came back. Every time you thought he regretted his words, that feeling quickly went away due to the fact he never walked up to you—never gave you any sort of greeting or even an indication that he wanted to talk. 

He had his chance—you gave it to him. You offered him a chance to talk at the bar, and he didn’t take it. He just ran off at the first sign of confrontation, so why should you think he cares about you?

A month had gone by since that day at the comic book store with him, and you couldn’t tell if you felt better or worse because of it. A part of you felt hollow inside as the space you forced made you feel that maybe you hadn’t made the right decision. You missed Ellie. You missed the routine you had set with Joel, even if your interactions weren’t very personal. It was… comforting, and now it was gone.

So, maybe you were capable of treating him the same way he had been treating you—simply patrol partners. Just enough familiarity with one another for you two to not have this tension that caused such great discomfort. 

You’re given a chance to figure out if this change was good or bad. When you walk over to the stables this morning, ready to go out on patrol, you find Tommy and Joel standing there waiting for something. Both men are leaning against the wall with their arms crossed when they see you approaching. 

At the sight of you, Joel quickly straightens up and starts fidgeting with his hands. You give them a brief glance before going to walk past them and towards your own horse, but stop as Tommy reaches out for your arm.

You turn to him with an eyebrow raised in question and take a quick glance to Joel to see him looking at this brother with a hint of panic in his eyes—so brief that you think you merely imagined it.

“Do you need something, Tommy?” You ask.

He looks nervously between you and Joel before sighing. “So… Eugene is sick today.”

Your confusion deepens—what did that have to do with you?

Tommy’s pause and nervous glances between Joel and you grab your attention, and you find yourself clenching your jaw in anticipation—bracing the news that you figure you’re about to hear but would rather not be the truth.

Please don’t say it, Tommy.

“Joel here’s gonna be your partner for today’s patrol.”

Your heart stutters for a moment as you feel a heavy weight settle in your stomach, disappointed that your assumption was correct. That knot of anxiety you feel answers your earlier question that you were in fact better off not being around Joel. 

You look over to see Joel shifting awkwardly behind his brother’s shoulder while staring down at his feet and holding his hands in his pockets. The sight makes you feel a tinge of anger swelling inside you—angry that he gets to be the one to look uncomfortable.

Tommy looks at Joel and back at you apprehensively as he anticipates your reaction.

“Okay.”

Tommy looks surprised upon hearing your response. “Okay? You’re alright with this?”

“Yeah,” you say. “It’s just patrol.” Except your voice holds a sense of dissociation and numbness that you haven’t felt since you came to this town. It’s as if your brain switches onto autopilot so that you’re just moving through the motions without having to deal with your emotions.

“Well, uh, alright then. You guys know what to do… Be safe.” Tommy gives Joel a stern look before walking away. Leaving just you and Joel, you don’t break your stoic nature as you wait for him to make some move or give a sign of wanting to talk. 

He doesn't. He simply walks to his horse, mounting Callus before heading for the gates, just like he did at the Tipsy Bison. With a scoff, you move to ready your own horse before taking off after him. 

Why do you keep hoping he will say something?

The route for today took the two of you further than normal—almost two hours on horseback as you headed for a ski lodge that you both were meant to check out for supplies. The steady snowfall made the wind hit you a bit harder than usual as you both made your way slowly through the woods.

About halfway into the journey, Joel speaks up. “You’re quiet,” he says. Not as a question, but as a statement.

“I’m always quiet.”

“No. You’re not. You always talk ‘bout Ellie or ask about us— her,” he corrects himself.

His words make you turn your face to him with a frown as you respond to him coldly. “And you never answer me. Suppose I’m saving you the effort you would need to ignore me.”

Joel’s expression conveys something you can’t quite figure out as you notice him look down at the ground while chewing the inside of his cheek. You think he has something to say at first, but ultimately seems to decide against it as he faces the direction you are traveling in.

By the time you two reach the cabin connected to the ski lodge, the weather has picked up from a flurry to a more steady snowfall. You bring your horses into the garage and tie them up on some pipes after you both dismantle them together and walk into the cabin.

Stepping into the main living room, you take a brief moment to look around, noticing how spacious the area is. Boxes of supplies are haphazardly thrown around the kitchen and living room area, making the two of you take some time to gather everything. You each pick out items that were needed back in Jackson—weapons, extra food rations, tools, and more casual items such as books and magazines. 

It was one thing you had always enjoyed about patrol runs—being able to find and bring back old pieces of media that had been lost. It gave you, and others, a sense of normalcy. Proof that the world you once knew before wasn’t completely lost. 

You pack everything silently as you feel more than see Joel’s eyes on you the whole time.

The two of you are done rummaging through all the items and collecting them in your packs after a few hours. Making your way back to the garage, you hear the sounds of harsh winds outside. You carefully lift the garage door open and find that the snow has picked up greatly—the winds turning it into what looks to be a growing blizzard, you realize, as you have to squint to see the trees out a few dozen yards ahead of you.

“We can’t ride in that,” Joel says as he takes in the sight, having come up to stand beside you.

You shake your head in a stubborn manner. “Yes we can… we just need to be careful.”

In a harsher tone, Joel says, “No. We can’t, and we won’t. Need to wait for the storm to pass before we can head back. If we go now we’ll either get hurt or lost on our way back. I don’t feel like takin’ that risk, so we’re stayin’. I’ll light a fire in the livin’ area while we wait it out.”

You know he’s right, but you do not want to be stuck here with Joel. You sigh in defeat as you have no choice but to close the garage back up and make your way back into the cabin after setting up the horses with some fresh water.

As you walk into the living area, you see the fireplace lit up but no trace of Joel. You take a seat on the carpet in front of the fireplace with a coffee table placed in the center, leaning your back against the couch in hopes to get some sleep until the storm clears.

Hearing heavy footsteps walking towards you, you look up to find Joel returning from upstairs with a box of old magazines, books, and vinyls. He places them on the table in front of you as he says, “Thought ya might want to read somethin’ while we wait. Found this box of vinyls too… Know you like ‘em so, I mean I don’t know if you have any of these. Just… if you wanna look.”

Your mouth parts open in a small look of surprise as he talks. “How do you know I like vinyls?”

Joel sits on the floor a few feet away from you, leaning himself back against the recliner that’s placed beside the couch so that he faces you. You see him rub the back of his neck as he responds. “Uh, I see you walk home with boxes of ‘em all the time. Or I'll catch ya walkin’ in and out of those stores in town with ‘em.”

“Plus, Ellie told me you got her into some good music finally.” He smirks, laughing softly to himself as he pauses. “Guess I oughta be thankin’ ya for that. Kid didn’t know what real music was until she met you.”

You look at him a bit startled, not knowing he knew all this or that he paid attention to what you did in town. “Oh… yeah,” is all you offer in response.

A small look of hope leaves his face as it’s replaced by a trace of disappointment you see flash across his features when you don’t continue talking.

About an hour and a half passes of the two of you sitting there in silence, switching between going through magazines and flipping through the vinyls in the box. You take a look outside through the windows that go from the floor to the ceiling, noticing that the storm hasn’t died down at all. You begin to wonder just how long you’re going to be stuck here together.

Boredom hits you, and you toss the magazine you had been reading back down on the coffee table with a sigh. You see Joel sitting across from you with his knees to his chest, looking down at the floor. You sigh and close your eyes, hoping to get some rest when Joel mumbles something.

You lift your head to face him with a frown. “What?”

He stays silent for a moment, his mouth closed tightly as he almost burns a hole into the carpet with how intensely he looks at the floor.

“I care.”

Your brows furrow together further in confusion. What is he talking about?

He slowly looks up at you and clarifies his words when he sees your expression. “That day… Our last patrol. You said, ‘who cares what happens to me’.”

Keeping his eyes on yours, Joel says, “I’m tellin’ you… I care.”

You’re stunned in silence as you recall the moment, feeling your face soften and your lips parting slightly as he speaks.

He continues on. “I… I know I don’t know how to… show it—that I care. Ellie and Tommy get on me ‘bout it a lot,” he softly laughs. 

His face shifts into a serious frown as he speaks honestly. “I know you ain’t a kid. I didn’t mean it… What I said about you not knowin’ how to take care of yourself. I’ve seen you do it.”

Joel looks down to the carpet as he recalls the memory. “That very first patrol with you… I was mad, yeah. Thought Tommy just wanted to get a kick outta me. But… but you handled yourself well out there.” A half-smile appears on his face as he talks. “Guess I liked how you were—how you carried yourself. Liked hearin’ you talk ‘bout things. Askin’ me stuff. Liked how I felt I could… rely on you. And I know Ellie was close with ya—trusted you. Saw how you were around town and… I guess I just… cared about you.”

His eyes look up to yours briefly before shyness takes over. “When you said I talked to Tommy after our first patrol to change my partner? That wasn’t it… Was the opposite, actually. I told him I wanted you as my partner.”

You feel your eyebrows twitch in confusion as you struggle to take in what he says.

“I— I got scared. When I thought you’d been bit...” Joel shakes his head lightly. “I froze. I heard you yell. I didn’t hear the damn thing ‘til after you had pushed me, and when I finally caught up to what was happenin’, I looked over and you were… It was on you. I saw it bite somethin’ before I grabbed my gun. I was too slow.” 

His face twists into frustration towards himself. “It’s my own damn fault I didn’t hear that fuckin’ clicker in the first place—”

You cut him off. “It’s not your fault. It’s your ear from when you got shot. You can’t blame yourself for someone shooting at y—”

“It was me.”

Your face scrunches up in confusion at that. “What?”

Joel looks around uncomfortably as he forces the words out. “I… I did it.” 

A sharp inhale of breath comes from you.

He looks down and begins twisting the broken watch around his wrist nervously. Joel looks as if his next words are being ripped from his throat—the look of someone who wants to share something but struggles in getting the words out.

“I had a… daughter. Sarah.”

You feel the air leave your lungs as he continues. “She, uh, well… Happened on the day of the outbreak. I didn’t— fuck. I didn’t know how to keep goin’, so I went to…” He gestures to his temple where his scar sits. “Missed. I flinched. Don’t know why. I wasn’t scared. Wasn’t like I didn’t wanna do it—I did. But… I missed. And now I got this scar… And I can’t hear out this fuckin’ ear, and it haunts me. I can’t… I can’t protect people the same. Can’t be relied on… I—” 

He stops talking for a moment, shaking his head and sighing before looking back up at you with an intensity in his eyes that overwhelms you. “I need you to know I would care if…” 

Joel stops, swallowing hard as if the thought pains him. “I just—I care, okay? M’sorry for what I said to ya that day. Sorry for how I’ve treated you this whole time. I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you out here, or anywhere… Especially not if I can help it.”

You feel your eyes burn from the tears that have welled in them as he speaks. You don’t think you even realized they were forming until he stops talking. Hearing this from Joel—hearing this about Joel… It’s intense. It makes you realize he does trust you, at least enough to share this with you.

A part of you feels like it’s out of character from him. The two of you were never chatty—never shared much more than comments on patrols or, at the most, Ellie. But you think about what he told you, how the first patrol made him want to keep you on shifts with him. That whole time, you thought he was so distant from you because he didn’t like you… You never expected to be so wrong about it—about him. 

For the past few weeks, you felt annoyance and frustration towards yourself because you hoped he would care about your argument enough to talk—hoped he would care about you enough to talk. And… here he was. Doing exactly that. Going an extra step, sharing something so deeply personal about himself in an attempt to show you he doesn’t hate you. You realize that the bond you have with Ellie, and the fact she trusts you, has inadvertently made him trust you, and that realization stuns you into silence for a few seconds.

Finally able to give some response, you nod your head softly, whispering, “Okay.”

He keeps his eyes on you as if he’s looking to make sure he believes you. Seemingly satisfied, he nods. “Alright.”

You feel unsure of what to say or do. A large part of you feels so stupid for having come to your own conclusions on Joel’s thoughts about you—stupid for assuming what he had said about you to Tommy.

You also feel a sense of ease. So many of your questions about Joel and why he is the way he is are answered. Why he treated you as he did, how you differed from everyone else in town. Even if he didn’t treat you like he does with Ellie and his brother, you still now recognize that you were separate from everyone else around. How his relationship with Ellie is the way it is and what she must mean to him. You feel like you want to say something, and find yourself speaking before you can stop yourself.

“What was she like?”

Keeping his eyes trained on the carpet, you can tell he knows what you’re asking. He takes a deep breath in before saying, “She was smart. Too smart sometimes,” he sadly laughs. “Don’t know where she got it from—sure as hell ain’t from me.”

“Funny too… real funny. I know she’d give Ellie a run for her money with those stupid puns.”

Genuine laughter bursts from your lips, the tears you were keeping in come spilling out slightly. Joel matches you in your laughter before a thoughtful remorse shines in his features. “She would’ve liked Ellie. I know Ellie would’ve liked her.”

The thought makes you smile. “I’m sure they would’ve. I can totally see you getting ganged up on by two teenage girls,” you offer lightheartedly.

Joel lets out another laugh before his brows furrow in pain, a glassy look appearing in his eyes. He blinks away tears before clearing his throat and looking up at you. “Yeah… yeah, I can see that too.” His voice makes a lump grow in your throat—the way he sounds wishful, so hoping, yet grief-stricken all at once breaks your heart.

The two of you share a meaningful look as you sit in silence—the both of you feeling a sense of unspoken understanding that had always been missing between you.

Looking over at the windows showcasing the outside, Joel says, “Looks like the storm’s cleared up a bit.”

Following his gaze, you realize that he’s right. You can’t recall how much time had been spent while you both spoke, but the storm was now clear enough to be able to return to Jackson safely.

“You ready to go?” He asks, a soft grunt leaving his lips as he moves to stand up.

You nod as you look down to place your hands on the carpet and push yourself up, only to falter when you find Joel looking down at you with his hand extended out to help you up. Placing your hand in his, he closes his calloused palm over yours and pulls you up until the two of you are standing close enough that your chests touch. He looks down at you with a look that you can’t quite place before he clears his throat, pulling his hand away and beginning to walk towards the garage.

You stand there feeling oddly breathless for a moment before you follow him, entering the garage and beginning to untie your horses. You then gather some of the extra vinyls and books you had been searching through while you both were waiting, and add them to the packs that held the supplies you two were meant to bring to Jackson.

When you finish packing, you move over to mount your horse once Joel opens the garage. Bracing your hands on her and putting one foot in the saddle, you use the balance to push yourself up but stop when you feel Joel’s hand on your waist. Shocked at the warm contact, you look down to see that he was moving to help you onto your horse. You relax as you allow him to guide you until you are settled in the saddle, looking down at him and muttering a small thanks. His hands linger on your waist before nodding at you, sliding his hand off and walking over to his own horse before climbing up himself—the two of you sharing a small smile before taking off back to Jackson.

The journey home felt quicker than the way up to the cabin. The time was spent with light conversation between the two of you, specifically from Joel as he seemed to be more at ease sharing small details of himself and Ellie. He doesn’t bring up Sarah and you don’t ask—relishing in the current moments with him that you had been hoping for since you got to know Ellie. 

Arriving at Jackson, the two of you catch Tommy waiting at the front gates while looking panicked. He rushes down the ladder and hurries over until he reaches you. “Y’all alright? Storm started soon after you guys left, and we got worried people on patrol were hurt. The others came back a little bit ago, but y’all were gone a while.”

Joel answers him. “Yeah. Storm hit when we reached the cabin and decided it’d be best to rest there ‘til it cleared up. We didn’t run into any trouble though.” 

He looks at you with a soft smile before turning back to his brother saying, “Don’t worry, we’re all good.”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! i hope you all enjoy <3

a/n: hi guys!! hope you enjoy this chapter :) i wanted to let y’all know that i made an update blog, so follow @writtenbynic and turn on notifications for updates! I’m still doing my tag list, but i wanted to let y’all know about that in case the tags don’t work or i missed anyone’s username <3

🏷️: @dendulinka6 @suzysface @koshkaj-blog @orcasoul @emmasveinyahhdih @thatoneperson38747 @lcvespedro @orodaeh @ithinkimokeei @emnull0 @warriorkarol

[onceinablueberrymoon]

I don’t know if you’re doing smut, but if you do, how about the reader is a recruiter like the salesman and there together and how would he be with you in the Bed! (He’s a total psycho for me hehe)

salesman x recruiter!reader headcanons (sfw + nsfw)

sorry for the super long wait! i did headcanons for this one since i’m not the most comfortable w hardcore smut. if you’ve read my stories, you probably already know i’m a sucker for soft and domestic salesman lmao

notes: gender-neutral!reader; the recruiter is called salesman here since reader is also a recruiter here

warnings, just in case: mentions of whips, guns, slight exhibitionism

minors dni! there’s smut in this one, folks

(also pls send me requests! i’m working on the ones i’ve already received, but more are always welcome♡ not just for the salesman either, i am begging anything sangwoo too) 

sfw

if the reader is also a recruiter, you’d have probably met the salesman just after becoming a recruiter yourself. 

while the salesman’s game of choice was ddakji, yours was tic-tac-toe. 

similar to the salesman who carried ddakji tiles and various bills of won, your briefcase contained a simple wooden frame and wooden ‘x’ and ‘o’ pieces. 

when you first met, he was polite and courteous towards you.

as time went on though, you felt as if you were being followed after work hours. one morning however, you’d caught him following you and confronted him, saying that his assigned location wasn’t anywhere near yours.

stunned that you had discovered him, he offered to have lunch together, which you accepted. the two of you started to grow closer, with both of you checking in on each other via text throughout the day. 

even though you and the salesman would rarely cross paths during work, you always made time for each other after work. 

this man can be soft when he wants to be. from cutely pouting when he loses at board games to snuggling in bed after a long day of slapping people, he’s capable of being a loving partner when he feels like it. he just didn’t have someone to share that side of him until you came along.

that’s not to say he doesn’t have a dark side. of course he does! that’s what we’re all here for, right?

nsfw

you always knew the salesman had interesting… tendencies. 

although you also played games while seeking out prospective players, you didn’t bring that part of your life home. that is, until you met the salesman.

you quickly learned that he loved games. so much so that he’d incorporated them into your sex life.

what game haven’t you played by this point? 

tag, where he chased you around his apartment until he eventually pinned you down and had his way with you.

marco polo, where he shouted “marco!”, to which you replied “polo!” from your hiding spot. he’d then crack his whip in the direction in which you called.

tug of war, where you’d both tug on a special rope he’d bought just for the occasion. he’d usually win, unless he took it easy on you. the winner would use the rope to tie the loser’s hands to the bedpost.

and of course, when he was feeling spicy, his favourite: russian roulette. while he rarely loaded the gun with a live bullet, he thrived on the fear in your eyes when he pressed the gun against your chin and clicked the trigger. 

of course, he’d do it to himself too, even going so far as to deepthroat the gun. even though you were scared out of your mind, you had to admit it was a huge turn-on.

contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t always the one in charge.

you also had your fun, like when you would play with one of those paper fortune-tellers you made when you were a kid.

depending on what “fortune” he had chosen, you’d do different things to him.

for example, if he chose “slow”, “teasing”, and “cockwarming,” you’d do exactly that. you’d tie him to the bedpost, then teasingly grind down on him for as long as you wanted. no amount of frustrated groans or the rare whine would get you to stop your actions. of course, you’d capture his lips to muffle his moans. while he loved making sure that your neighbours could hear you through the walls, you preferred not to have an audience.

finally, he’d take the utmost care in helping you clean up afterwards. as much as he would love to show your ruined state off to the world, you had to be presentable for your job.

you’d try your best to care for him as well, buying expensive lotions for his calloused hands. 

all in all, you made a great team, both in the streets and in the sheets.

i am very proud of that last line ngl

[yup-thats-me]

confession • Takakura. K

pairing; Takakura Ken x fem!reader

summary; it took y/n a bit too long to understand she's caught feelings for that idiot!

warnings; none. minor spoiler from ep 8

Were lunch breaks always this boring? That, Y/n couldn't tell. After all, she had spent lunches for the last few weeks with Okarun on the school terrace talking about who knows what.

She wouldn't even be here sulking with her friends in the classroom, she could have been at her favorite place with Okarun if no that idiot had lied straight to her face.

"I'll be working on a report," he said. And maybe she would have believed him if not for the answer he gave when Y/n asked to hang out later after school: "I have stuff to do."

"Ugh. I'm gonna buy some drinks," she exclaimed getting up. "Orange juice for me!" her friends ordered.

What was Okarun doing now? Reading occult magazines? but he could have done the same while eating his lunch with Y/n. Working on a report? maybe but the girl had her doubts. The last months or so they've spent together looking for Okarun's balls, the dude never even uttered a word about assignments. what came over him now?

As Y/n strolled around lazily with her friend's drinks in hand, she stopped dead in her tracks. There was Okarun, doing what seemed to be push-ups, the only thing extraordinary being that Aira Shiratori was under him. Y/n even noticed her eyes were closed.

Y/n's heart began thumping loudly against her chest. What were they doing? Kissing. It couldn't be right? Please! Knowing Okarun, he had never even held a girl's hand in his entire existence. A kiss would be the stretch of the century!

Y/n really wanted to see where the two were going with this, but the drinks she was carrying fell with a thud loud enough to make Okarun startle and look around.

Y/n swore their eyes met. She turned at the speed of light, running away from the two.

"Y/n! Wait, its a misunderstanding!" came the pleading voice of Okarun. But Y/n couldn't hear him over the loud thumps her heart was making, nor could she see with tears covering her vision.

Tears? Why were there tears? She couldn't possibly cry just because the idiot she fell in love with was just seconds away from crashing his lips against the girl who calls her a demon?

Suddenly, Y/n was stopped in her tracks. Okarun was holding on to her sleeve, his other hand carrying the drinks she had dropped. His eyes were pleading.

"I've had enough!" Y/n snapped, snatching her arms from him. "'I have a report to work on,' yeah, right! The report was on the anatomy of female lips, right?"

Y/n could no longer hold back her tears. They streamed down her face endlessly, her eyes red. Okarun had tried to wipe them away even if he was confused as to why the girl was crying, but Y/n backed away.

"You should get back to your bae, she'd be waiting for her kiss," she remarked turning away.

The poor drinks were dropped yet again. Okarun grabbed her wrist, making her face him by force.

"I'm in love with you, so would you please stop with the remarks?"

His voice held a hidden pain. His hands were trembling. He still had not processed what he just blurted out. When it did, he let go of her wrist, backing away a few steps. "Sorry."

The guy was looking down, his mind on overdrive. Did he just confess to Y/n as a request? That was so lame! Of course she would reject him. There's surely no questioning that!

But unexpectedly, Y/n made him look up. His eyes still had not focused on the girl standing before him before he heard a crisp "smack" and the pain stinging in his ear.

Y/n had slapped him. Not that hard that it would hurt, but it still came as a shock. Before he could recover, however, he felt Y/n pulling him by the neck.

In an instant, their lips were clashing agsint the other's clumsily, both amateurs. Just as Okarun was about to register what was happening and maybe even wrap his hands around Y/n, Y/n pulled away.

"I love you too!"

She burst out. "I could tell," Okarun mumbled. When he came to, he looked as shocked as Y/n. Then with the greatest look of betrayal in his eyes, and a hand over his stinging cheek, he asked with faux fury, "What was the slap for then?"

"You deserved it," Y/n smiled, poking out her tongue. "You're officially my boyfriend now," She smirked pulling him by his tie.

"I guess we wouldn't get our drinks today?"

it was her friends who were watching the whole scene play out from their hideout, watching giddily as their friend finally made her move. Took Y/n long enough.

[fraugwinska]

Week 2 everyone! Following Hazel's amazing Body Worship featuring our beloved king of hell, we'll continue this week in the same sentiment - Can there be really enough Lucifer x Reader stories?

Dont miss out on the wonderful works of our kinky coven: @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes @macabr3-barbi3 @synamartia

Check out our Masterlist for Kinktober (A big thank you to the marvellous Syn - who also made out Banners!)

Warnings: Summoning Ritual, Manipulation and emotional Blackmail, Blood, Implied pressure for sexual acts. But with a happy end! And as usual: Minors Stay away - 🔞

"Fuck - It worked... It actually worked!"

You heard your boyfriend's voice, filled with heated excitement, but your eyes were glued to the glowing pentagram before you. That shouldn't be happening - this was supposed to be a silly game, a little make-pretend. You had felt bad, after denying him, again, what he had asked you so many times before. "Come on baby," he had begged, and while you liked him well enough, you hadn't been together for long and something in you told you to wait for you two to cross the border of having sex - It would be your first time, and fuck if people would call you prude, but giving it away meant something to you. It had to feel right. Be with the right person. And you and him weren’t there yet. So you had, hesitantly, agreed to his roleplay idea. You thought it was a bit excessive - the props he gathered, the seriousness in which he had chanted some silly things in latin - all while tying your hands and feet together in what you had thought would be just a dumb game of Fake summoning a demon to spice things up.

But this glowing portal was real, as was the euphoria so tangible in his voice. This hadn't been a game - he had planned this.

Through the bright, golden glow stepped a man - at least you thought it was a man. Lean and regal, dressed in a white, luxurious coat that strangely resembeled a circus director he shifted out of the light into your boyfriend's living room. His blonde hair shimmered in the fading glow and for once, you could see his face in full - And it was terrifyingly beautiful. Golden locks framed his burning red irises, two blush circles sat on the edges of his mouth that was pulled into a face of disdain.

Your boyfriend didn't even acknowledge your trembling whimpers, he just stepped forward, dropping the dagger he had used to prick your finger and let your blood drip on a strange book. "Lord Lucifer... It's an honor to..."

"Cut the Lord-crap, mortal. What the hell is this?" the blonde interrupted him, eyes widening at the sight of your bound and shivering body. He glanced from the dagger to the book to the young man before him and folded his arms. Your heart almost jumped out of your chest. That idiot actually summoned the literal devil? The fallen angel, the king of hell? What was he thinking?

"I've summoned you, Lor... Lucifer, to offer you a virgin in exchange for my own immortality!" His words made you whip your head around. Surely, you must've heard wrong. "Wh-what are you doing?" you asked in a rush of bubbling panic, fighting against the rope that held your arms together. Cold eyes met your pleading ones, and the hope that this would all turn out to be a joke faded completely.

"Sorry, Babe, but this is an opportunity I won't miss out on. You wanted to stay a virgin - and this way, I get something out of it."

"Okay, wait - just so that I get this correctly..." Lucifer stepped in, his eyes darting in disbelief between you and the caster of this wretched summoning ritual, his brows deeply furrowed. "You're offering your girlfriend to me? Are you serious?" His question was met with a hesitant nod, the sight making your stomach drop. The way he tricked you, the way he talked about you, the way he was casually offering you to a literal demon, as if he were selling some worthless thing when he was supposed to love and respect you - Everything inside you felt heavy with hurt and regret. Sure, you couldn't have said it was love you had felt for him - but you thought he'd at least care about you the way you had cared about him. Apparently, you were horribly wrong. Tears dripped silently down your cheeks and you wished for someone, anyone to help.

"I swear she is untouched, my lord, and even if she is plain and not quite the looker, she.."

"You humans are..." Lucifer's voice was filled with cold disgust as he searched for words. Finding none that would suffice, he just snapped his fingers, and you felt as if the air was sucked out of the room. Everything stood still, the fire of the candles in the room didn't move, the hands of the clock, even your boyfriend was frozen in place mid-gesture. Only his pupils shifted to the blonde in a panic, meeting the devil's angry stare. Lucifer shook his head, then he tore his eyes away from him and looked at you, instantly softening and with a pinch of pity as he slowly walked over to you. You flinched when he stretched out his hand, but he stopped and gave you a gentle smile.

"It's okay, doll, I'm not gonna do anything. Just getting rid of those ropes, okay?"

You nod, the wet streaks on your face cold and itchy. Small, delicate hands reach around your wrists, and within a blink the ties disappear. You quickly wipe your face and touch the bruised skin, cautiously rubbing the scratches as Lucifer unties your feet. "There, that's better, right?"

"What... what is happening?" you stutter, not daring to look directly at him, still overcome with the bizarreness of the situation. "Why has everything stopped.. moving?"

Lucifer huffs, offering you his hand and, after you hesitantly took it, pulled you up to stand. "I froze time. That asshole who dares to call himself your boyfriend pissed me off and that's one sure way to keep his rotten mouth shut." He cups your cheek, his hand is warm and soft and so gentle you almost lean in, and lets his thumb wipe away the remaining wet trails of salt, but a fresh flow of tears blur your vision. You struggle for words, but nothing but weak sobbing makes it out of your constricted throat. "I... I can't believe he..."

"I know, angel. I wish I could say he's an exception... but as you might suspect, I've known humanity and the endless depth of their deprivation for a while..." He sighs, stepping away from you. "What I can promise you is that I'm not going to hurt you. That dumb motherfucker might've summoned me correctly - but he sure as hell didn't read the fine print too closely." Lucifer grinned, for the first time this night he actually looked like the devil he was - and you were enraptured at the sight. "The one who offers the blood is the one who bargains a deal with me. And since he was too chicken to spill his own, that means it's you, doll." He laughs, crossing his arms, tilting his head to watch your boyfriend's eyes dart frantically through the room.

"So, it's up to you. Is there anything you want?"

You swallow, the heat of Lucifer's palm still lingering on your cheek and the betrayal burning deep in your guts.

"I..." you say, as if in trance, guided by the hurt and anger and that strange pull towards the demon, "I want to humiliate him. I want to make him regret what he wanted to do..." Lucifers gaze turned into something sinister and dangerous, and you quickly added "Without killing him. I don't want to... be like him."

The devil looks surprised, almost impressed, before he steps towards you once more, taking your hand and kissing it, an impish smile on his divine lips that made his features even more beautiful. "Mh, I do have an idea how we can arrange that. Just remember: You hold the reins to stop whenever you want to stop."

Before you could ask what he means, his mouth travels up your arm and to the crook of your neck, leaving kisses along its trail. Your whole skin breaks out in shivers, a gasp escapes you as you feel your cheeks flush and a heat pool in between your legs. His hands find their way onto your hips, resting instead of pulling, a gesture of such thoughtfulness and respect you could’ve wept and you feel yourself lean into him as he licks along your jawline. It feels daring, it feels strange and yet so alluring you can't help but sink deeper into that warm embrace. Whatever had held you back to give yourself to your now ex-boyfriend - it was nonexistent in the arms of this demon, and wasn't that a travesty? But then again... Lucifer was the personification of temptation afterall.

When he finally kisses you, it's like fireworks exploding in your head. The way his lips gently close around yours, the warmth and sweetness of his mouth, his skillful tongue parting them so effortlessly to slither around your own in playful circles, letting you taste him as he tasted you - there was nothing you could have imagined that would've compared to the intensity that a simple kiss from him conveyed. It wasn’t forced, like it always felt with your boyfriend, but an invitation, with no reproach if you’d decline it. 

"Lucifer.. please..." you breathe as you reluctantly break the kiss, overheated and desperate for air. Your hands act on their own, with a feverish urgency, down to the buckle of his pants. But Lucifer, his smile wide and sultry, caught them, pulling them up and around his shoulders with an almost scolding shake of his head.

"Oh no, angel, the only one that's gonna be worshiped tonight is you." He lifts you up with ease, drawing a little yelp out of you, and moves swiftly as he clears the living room table to spread you out on it, kneeling in between your legs. You're quivering with a hot, bubbling anticipation and even through your lust-dazed mind you still catch Lucifer's wicked glance and the mocking smirk in the direction of your ex-boyfriend.

Slowly, he pushed your white dress up exposing pale, supple skin. The devil's hands explored your thighs, every brush and caress making you writhe as the ache to be touched becomes stronger with every uncovered inch of flesh, and by the time he starts to slowly, achingly work his fingers around your hips, you're already squirming for him, begging him for any kind of friction.

"I'm gonna carve prayers onto your body, my angel," he breathes against the sensitive inside of your thigh, littering it with tiny pecks before he bites down, sharply enough to leave a red mark - it pulls a moan out of you, then an aroused sigh as Lucifer soothingly licks over the reddened skin and slowly kisses his way towards your center. The devil delights at your little noises of want, how you whimper as he pushes your underwear aside instead of tearing it off to the side - though it wouldn't hold for long anyway. "Your body is my temple and your moans the hymns I sing to."

His words send a new kind of electric buzz straight to your cunt, you wanted to say something in return - heaven or hell knows what - but it was a useless endeavor anyway. The words were already forgotten when his tongue dipped into your waiting heat - you buck into him and it earns you a muffled hum of appreciation. Lucifer's movements were slow, languid and at the same time utterly determined. A steady rhythm as his hands found their way back to your hips, pinning you down so that all you could do was take the sweet torture and drown in the pleasure he delivered to you on a golden plate. And so you did. Every swirl of that wicked, sinful tongue drew louder noises from you, every press of his lips to your soaked pussy had your head spinning into overwhelmed euphoria.

Through the haze of your foggy eyes you catch a glimpse of the frozen man you had called 'baby' once. Shocked, unbelieving eyes fixated on you writhing under Lucifer's incomparable ministrations, being expertly eaten out by temptation itself in the form of the most beautiful being imaginable - and a moan that almost sounded like a laugh tore itself from your throat. The sudden wave of pride and morbid joy, combined with a flick of the damned forked tongue over your clit and his name spilling from your lips along with your drool has you cumming in what you could only describe as ethereal bliss - your hand finds Lucifer's hair, digging your fingers into the golden locks and holding him tightly pressed to your seeping core as the waves of your orgasm rock your hips like a boat lost on the ocean - and Lucifer, your lighthouse illuminating your way home, laps up every drop of your essence your body offers him.

By the time you were done riding out your orgasm, Lucifer's skilled tongue had cleaned every bit of the mess you had made. He pressed a soft kiss on your puffed lips, before slowly pulling away onto his knees to look at you, wiping his mouth and watching you with hooded, smoldering eyes.

"Look at you, angel. Only a mortal fool would call something so ethereal as you 'plain'."

Lucifer stands up and leans over to brush the back of his hand softly over your cheek until his fingers rest under your chin, lifting your head ever so slightly to kiss you once more before he turns to your ex. His posture changes, his shoulders straighten and his features become sharp and almost threatening. You try to sit up, body still weak post-orgasm, as you watch him sprout two twisted, fiery horns from his head and three sets of blinding white and red wings from his back. The room is slowly filled with a light like the inside of a fire - you faintly hear a muffled, horrified scream from the immobilized figure behind you, but you couldn't care less. Your sole focus is him - the fallen angel and ruler of hell.

"Remember that you deserve nothing less than what you received tonight, doll."

"Lucifer..." is all you get to say before he spreads his wings and the world turns white.

You shot up, the blanket over your legs falling from the sofa you push yourself up on. The room was quiet and dim, only the light from a few candles making rough shadows dance on the walls. You panted, as if waking up from an intense dream, strands of your hair glued to your neck and cheeks from the sweat. Your head whipped around calling his name, but your boyfriend is nowhere to be found. For a moment, you questioned your sanity when you felt something tickling your thigh. You shifted and reached under you, and your mouth pulled into a wistful smile as you brought the soft, white feather you found to your lips for a longing, bittersweet kiss.

[cloudedangels]

Extended Leave ♡ (Part One) 18+

2,639 words

▪︎ Fem!Caleb x Fem!Reader ▪︎ AU ▪︎ 18+ No minors pls ▪︎ inspired by this drabble I wrote on my other acc

Fem!Caleb comes to stay with you for a few days. She's too comfortable and intense, but you like it don't you?

Tags/cws: fem!Caleb, fem!reader, AU, pilot!caleb, childhood friends to whatever this is, slow burn, domestic intimacy, soft butch x soft femme, mutual pining, unspoken feelings, quiet yearning, hurt/comfort, fluff?, tension and tenderness, soft dom!Caleb, sapphic romance, military leave, found family, period comfort, implied masturbation, repressed desire, emotional intimacy, subtle possessiveness, soft angst, slice of life, bed sharing, love languages (acts of service), fem!caleb barely hiding the level her obsession–for now >;)

Note: for my au purposes, reader and caleb are not related, but you were both raised by your grandmothers who were lifelong friends. Her being your jie jie was a running joke of sorts that stuck, more for her though...

She said she was only going to stay for a few days, but it's been two weeks with her in your apartment. She's made herself at home. Fixed your doorframe, the shelf in your bathroom, she does all your dishes, your laundry, cooks all your meals, like a butch housewife on steroids. She's barely unpacked except a few things here and there. Her toothbrush next to yours, her muscle teas folded neatly on the couch, boots and Jordan's by the door, DAA jacket on the coat rack. Caleb is everywhere.

It's not like you mind, you secretly hoped she would stay longer than she said. You like the way her intentionality warps the space.

Like when she folds your towels in thirds, not halves, because "that’s how they do it in base housing." Or how she rearranged the spice cabinet so you can reach what you use most, and made your rice cooker a permanent spot on the counter. You still feel a little flutter when she says your name from the kitchen, like it belongs to her mouth.

She texts you sometimes while you’re in the same room. Just things like:

your hair looks good today, pips. (*^_^*)

made some soup, aren't you hungry? ＼(・o・)／

your cycle's coming soon right? need jie jie to buy you anything? (´ω｀*)

She hasn’t brought up going home again.

You haven’t asked.

She watches you like she used to. Quietly, but with that unbearable fondness that used to make you feel like a doll on a shelf. Or one of her model planes. Caleb has always seen you too clearly, too tenderly, and with the kind of devotion that makes you want to laugh or flee the room. It's unnerving. It’s familiar. It's her.

You come out of your shower to find your favorite pajamas already laid out on your bed. Your phone buzzes again.

you left your conditioner open again mei mei

i closed it for you. don’t want it to dry up or spill...

(︶︹︺)

You shook your head. Shaking away the odd feeling. You haven't called her jie jie since you were like 15. It didn't fit.

You remember one of the first times you said it, or half-whined it, really. You were sprawled across her lap in your grandparents' tiny shared garden, red popsicle in one hand, your other clutching her shirt sleeve. She was trying to atone after you cried and cried because she left you alone to play with some boys who were older than you. Because she was "Playground King".

"No one else can have you, jie jie," you’d said. You were sticky and sunburned and serious. She patted your cheeks after you said that, before pinkie promising that you would get your wish. You were only 11 then.

You two were so touchy back then. Even when she left for the DAA. When did that change? Was it your fault? Were you pushing her away somehow with your awkward unsureness?

A sudden knock on your door frame pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Caleb, I'm not dressed!" You call.

There's a pause.

"I know, pips, that's why I knocked."

Then.

"You've been quiet today. Sit with me when you're done, okay?" She doesn't wait for you to answer before she's walking away.

When you're dressed, you find her lying on the couch, looking up at the ceiling and biting her pinky nail at the corner. She doesn't look at you.

"You wanna lay down with me and tell me what's wrong, pretty girl? Or am I gonna have to keep wonderin'?"

You hesitate in the hallway, tugging the sleeves of your shirt down like it’ll armor you against whatever strange, heavy feeling is leaking in through the walls lately.

When you pad over, she doesn’t move, just pats her chest once with the flat of her hand like a silent invitation.

"C’mere."

You move like memory, taking one look at her long body on your small couch before you lay down. You rest your head on her chest, snake arms around her waist. Trying not to think about it. A sigh leaves as you smell her old spice lavender deodorant and your body wash on her skin.

Her strong biceps wrap around you, one of her hands finding the back of your head. She rubs circles into the nape of your neck.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I just don't feel right when you don't feel right," she whispers.

"You smell like you're covering your scent up with mine." You blurt.

"I like smelling like you." She says it so matter-of-fact like there's no use in denying it.

She doesn’t press you when you go quiet again, just adjusts herself underneath you so your head fits better against her collarbone. Her fingers still trace idle shapes at your nape, and you know it's an old habit. You used to love when she did that during your meltdowns. Her hand would never leave your back until you were breathing right.

Now it makes your throat feel thick… with something.

"I keep thinking about when we were little," you say, voice soft against the fabric of her shirt. “Like... when we played house and you made me be the dog every time.”

“You made yourself the dog,” she counters, tone lazy. “Said it was less pressure.”

You can feel her laugh vibrate through her ribs.

“You were so bossy,” you murmur.

“You were such a crybaby.”

You snort. “You liked it. Because then you could save the day. ”

“I did,” she admits. “Still do.”

That part settles weird in your stomach. It shouldn’t, but it does. There’s always something about the way she says things. She says things as if she knows you better than you know yourself. And maybe she does.

You shift against her, suddenly warm all over. Her arm tightens instinctively.

"Don't go," she says quickly, like your movement threatened to end this.

“I wasn’t.”

“Okay. Good.”

There’s a pause.

“I miss it, you know?” she adds after a while. “The old days. When you needed me more.”

“I still need you,” you admit before you can stop yourself. “I just… I don’t know how to need you the same way anymore.”

Her hand stills against your hair. Then: “I’ll take whatever way you can.”

Your breath hitches.

You close your eyes. You don’t say ‘me too’. You don’t say ‘please stay’. You don’t say ‘I’m scared of what happens if I want this more than I should’.

Instead, you listen to her heartbeat and the rain starting against the windows.

“You didn’t eat much today,” she says eventually, quietly. “Can I bring you something? I made miso and eggs.”

“I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

You nod against her chest. “Just tired.”

She hums. “Then rest.”

And you do. Not because she said so, but because you feel like you can.

☆☆☆☆

You wake up in your bed, a sharp pain in your abdomen, and groan. Not this… that would explain why you felt so mushy.

You press your palm into your belly and curl toward the wall. Everything feels slow, like you’re stuck underwater. You close your eyes and try to breathe through it, but another cramp rolls through, sharp and hot, and you groan again, quieter.

You don’t remember falling asleep here. You don’t remember Caleb leaving the couch.

But then, there’s a knock. Softer than before.

You don’t answer.

The door creaks open anyway. You don’t even have the energy to scold her.

“I heard you,” she says.

You open your eyes a crack to see her silhouette against the doorway. Her voice is low, careful. “Bad?”

You nod without speaking. She takes that as an invitation.

She crosses the room, kneels beside the bed, reaches to brush a piece of hair from your face. Her hand lingers on your cheek longer than it needs to.

"Can I help you?" she asks softly. “Lay with you?”

You hesitate. Only for a moment. Then nod again.

She moves with a kind of military precision. Gentle, but sure. Caleb always does things like she’s been practicing them. Maybe she has.

She lifts the blanket, lifts your hips oh-so-carefully to lay a towel you didn't notice she had under you. Then she slides in behind you. Her arms wrap around you immediately, warmth locking in. You let her. You don't know why, except that it feels like the safest place in the world. Like when you were younger.

Her hand drifts to your lower belly, warm palm over the ache. “Here?”

You hum.

She starts to rub slow, firm circles with the heel of her hand. She’s done this before. She always knew how to touch you, even when you didn’t know how to ask. The massage is gentle at first, then deeper. The tension in your muscles starts to uncoil, just slightly.

“You should’ve told me,” she murmurs. “I would’ve made ginger tea. Or held you sooner.”

“You already do too much,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“You let me,” she says, and leans in to kiss your bare shoulder.

You tense.

Then you don't. You relax into her.

Her lips linger for a second too long. She doesn’t apologize.

Her voice is right at your ear now. “Let me stay, pips. For real this time.”

You can’t answer. You don’t know how to tell her no, and you’re not even sure you want to.

Caleb's hand strokes down your side now, steady, soothing. Her breath at your nape. You hear the quiet, obsessive love in her every movement. The kind that watched you grow. The kind that never moved on.

"You said no one else could have me," she says after a beat, the words barely above a whisper. “You remember that?”

You do.

You remember everything.

But you pretend to be asleep.

Even as she tucks you closer, whispering:

“I still belong to you, mei mei.”

You're not asleep, but if pretending means you don’t have to answer yet, you’ll pretend until your lungs give out.

Caleb doesn’t move.

She breathes against the back of your neck like she's syncing to your rhythm on purpose, like she wants to keep time inside your body. The way she used to when you'd cry too hard to speak and she'd count your inhales with her fingers on your back.

She thinks you’re asleep. Maybe she wants you to be.

"You're still so small," she murmurs, more to herself than you. Her hand doesn’t move from your belly. "You always looked like this. Fragile. But I know better. I know how strong you are."

A pause. Her voice lowers, darker, mixed with something:

"But when you let me take care of you, you go soft again. Just for me."

Your heart stutters.

You should move. Say something. Break the silence.

Instead, your fingers curl in the blanket.

Caleb shifts. Barely, but you feel her everywhere. Her nose skims your shoulder. Another kiss, featherlight this time, just beneath your ear.

"I don’t want anyone else to see you like this," she says. "You understand?"

There’s no threat or anger in her tone. Only quiet sincerity. That makes it worse. Better. You can't be sure.

She presses her hand more firmly against your abdomen, and you breathe out, a little shudder in your chest you can’t help.

She notices.

"Shh," she coos, hand returning to soft strokes. "I know. Hurts. I’ll make it better."

You don’t stop her.

You don’t quite want to stop anything. You start to question how much you'd let her get away with.

☆☆☆☆☆

It’s been three weeks.

You stopped asking when she was going home sometime last week, right around the time she stopped pretending the couch was hers.

There was no announcement. No big conversation. Just one night where she yawned big and loud, stretched her arms over her head and said, “Ugh, I’m too tall for that couch, I think I bruised my spine,” then flopped beside you like it had always been the plan. Her bicep was your pillow. She offered it like an apology.

The next night, she didn’t even make a show of it. She climbed into bed like it was muscle memory, like she belonged there.

And… well, you didn’t stop her.

Now, it’s routine. She makes breakfast. Teas for both of you. Hers black tea, yours ginger and sweetened with honey, sprinkles of cinnamon. Does your laundry without asking, folds your underwear too neatly. Shrugs when you say that you can't find certain pairs.

She hums when she brushes your hair. Touches your lower back when she passes behind you in the kitchen. She buys your favorite snacks without being told.

You’re used to her presence now, but it’s dangerous how easy it is.

Tonight, as you eat in silence, you finally ask: “When do you have to report back?”

Caleb blinks. Then freezes. Then sets her spoon down with too much care.

“...So. Funny story.”

You raise an eyebrow.

She clears her throat. “My official leave is… four months.”

You blink.

“What?”

“Yeah,” she rubs the back of her neck. “Technically I said I needed the time for, um, family medical leave. I might’ve heavily implied that someone was sick?”

You stare at her.

“Caleb. You lied to your commanding officer? That could get you discharged!!”

She winces. “I know! panicked! I didn’t know how to ask for time without making it a whole thing. I just… wanted to be around. You know, in case you needed me. I couldn't risk it being denied or not being long enough.”

You don’t know what to say.

She fidgets with the hem of her shorts. “I can find another place if it’s weird. I just… I didn’t want you to be alone.”

You don’t tell her to leave.

☆☆☆☆☆

That night, you wake up from a dream you’d never say out loud.

Caleb’s breath is soft and even next to you. Her arm’s thrown across your waist, and you can still feel the press of her thigh near yours. You’re too warm. Too… tense.

You slip out of bed as quietly as you can. Your heart is still thudding from the dream—something about her mouth, her hands, the way she said your name.

You lock the bathroom door. The water runs hot. You sit on the edge of the tub for a moment, trying to will it away. Then you give in.

It’s not fast, not frantic. Just quiet, soft gasps as you bite into the back of your hand. You think about her hands. Her voice. The way she looks at you when she thinks you’re not watching. You come quicker than expected, thighs trembling.

You breathe heavy through the after feeling, still flushed when you step out.

Towel in hand, you hear the buzz of your phone.

A message.

are you trying to make me insane with those sounds?

let me help next time. ♡ <<(≡・x・≡)>> ¿?

Your stomach drops.

Another ping.

(jk just teasing you dw) (^з^)-☆

pls don't stay up too late you'll feel sick in the morning >:/

You stay in the shower freaking out and putting back on your pajamas. Glaring at the panties you were wearing in your bed like it was their fault before tossing them into the laundry basket.

When you leave the bathroom and head back to the bedroom, you stand frozen in the doorway, heat rushing to your ears. She's still in bed. The blankets barely rumpled. Her eyes are closed.

You don’t know if she’s asleep.

You don’t know if she was really teasing.

And you don’t know if you want her to be. But you climb into bed, leaving enough space so the two of you don't touch. And you close your eyes tight. Fuck.

| 📖 pt 2 -> here

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

title: i’m a good look on you

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: M / NSFW

genre: angstish… romance

pairing: lucifer x reader

summary: with lilith back in the picture you tried very hard to keep the small, jealous voices away. but as she, charlie and lucifer all laugh at something at a party and he hand holds his shoulder, it’s hard to keep the green eyed monster away today.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. MINORS DNI.

Smut under the keep reading, Minors DNI.

as you sipped your martini from the couch, you watched as lucifer and charlie were talking animatedly about something that tickled their fancy. a content smile stretching across your face, seeing your partner finally get along with his child, like you knew they would. charlie needed him, he needed charlie. what they didn’t need was her.

the woman who was gliding up to them, put her hands on both their shoulders and bent down, saying something that made both charlie and lucifer laugh. it was true, when lilith returned, she had explained that she had been gone for seven years and effectively, her and lucifer were divorced. you were amicable, polite and kind consistently to the woman, as you knew how much she meant to charlie. but there was an ugly feeling that reared its ugly head as you watched her grasp lucifer’s shoulder and he laughed so gleefully with them. 

you diverted your attention, sipping your drink again and watching husk put on what looked like a magic show for angel. as you got lost in thought, you were yanked back down to reality as lucifer came over and sat on the arm of your chair. 

“whatcha lookin’ at darlin’?” he asked, his cheeks tinged red.

“just watching husk and angel, they’re cute together.” you respond back with an easy smile, your hand lifting and resting high on lucifer’s thigh. his eyes widening at your brazen display.

“h-honey?” he asks, bewildered.

“hmmmmm?” you hum, slowly looking up at him and taking a sip of your drink.

“what’re…” his voice trailed off. 

“making sure everyone here knows what’s mine, love.” you say easily, pressing a kiss against his neck while you tightened the grasp on his thigh. “could i pull you away from this party for just a moment, my king?” you ask lowly. you see him gulp as he tries to appear fine to everyone.

“yes.” he exhales out, relaxing when you lean away and take your hand off his thigh. “yes, you may.” he responds as you stand up, finish your drink and hold out your hand waiting for him. he takes your hand and you lead him quickly upstairs, hearing angel whistle after both of you, you shake your head. quickly heading to the bed room, you open the door for lucifer as he walks in looking at you questioningly. 

“did i do something? you look upset.” he says coming toward you.

“you didn’t do anything to upset me luce. i just…” you sigh as you drag your hand through your hair, stress peeling off you now that you weren't the the middle of a party. you look in his citrine eyes and smile. “it seems so silly when you’re staring at me the way you are now.” you close the distance between you both and cup his face. his eyes widen in understanding.

“darling, you know…” he starts and you cut him off.

“i know. i know. i do know. it’s just hard, to look at you three and see how well you fit together and not feel like i’m the extra puzzle piece.” your voice comes out like a whisper as you tilt your head down, not wanting to actually look in his eyes.

“you’re not an extra puzzle piece. we weren't a puzzle that fit well either. maybe in some aspects, but not in the ones that end up counting for a relationship." lucifer shakes his head, "i mean, you’re the one who put me back together. i’m whole because of you. because of your love. i’m yours darling. nothin’ can change that.” lucifer easily lifts your head, looking into your eyes with a suave smile. you grin at him.

“you’re mine?” you ask, your voice an octave lower.

“all yours. however you want me.” he leans into you. “however you need me.” his voice is whispered past your ear and you shiver when his tongue traces the outer cartilage of your ear. your arms wrap around him easily as his name is growled out from your lips and he chuckles.

“how do you want me? hmmm, my love?” he asks, looking at you with half lidded eyes, your breathing fast against his face. you whine, barely containing yourself as you lift him straight up and fling yourself sitting on the bed. you situate him so he’s straddling you, giving him a height advantage as your hands settle on his hips. you quickly draw him into a kiss, feeling his tongue dart out asking for access. you allow him as your right hand trails from his hip to his ass, up his back and anchors in his hair, giving a slight pull. his cry engulfed by your kiss as you tug once more, your hands going back to his hips, guiding his rocking against your thigh.

you pull back, taking a breath as he bites his lip, trying to stay quiet. you stop his rocking and he looks at you upset and bewildered. 

“don’t silence yourself. i want everyone in this hotel to know who’s making you feel like this.” you rock his hips against you punctuating the sentence. “who takes care of you.” you rock his hips against your thigh again, applying more pressure. “who put you back together…” you whisper against his ear as he cries out, your hands guiding his pliant hips relentlessly against your thigh.

“oh-oh-i-it’s too much. please! i-“ he cuts himself off with a moan. 

“it’s not too much. or else you would have used your safe word.” you grin as his pretty eyes shine with shed tears. 

“i-i’m going to… oh-please!” he cries out.

“you’re going to cum? hmmmm, luci? tell everyone who’s making you feel like this. say it. scream my name.” you growl against him, quickening his rutting against you. he screams your name as his release is confined in his clothes and he collapses into you, breathing heavily.

you smile and pet his head, pushing back his hair and dragging your fingers against his scalp. him almost purring in your lap. you were about to speak, breaking the silence, when suddenly a knock interrupted you.

“ummm, hey, dad?” you hear charlie ask. your eyes widen.

“um, yeah-“ lucifer clears his throat as his voice came out much higher than intended. “yea-yeah, charlie?” 

“people are wanting to talk to you and have asked for you. so, you need to come back to the party!” charlie exclaims.

“i’ll be right there sweetie!” lucifer yells and you both wait until you can no longer hear footsteps any more. you sigh as lucifer gets off your lap and snaps his fingers looking strikingly put together. not at all like he had been begging to get off on your thigh moments before. you get up, smoothing out your dress when he snaps his fingers and your outfit is neatly put together too. you look at him and smile. 

“i owe you later.” he looks you up and down, his eyes settling on yours.

“c’mon, party awaits for you, my king.” you tease him walking out as you shake your head, his cheeks turn bright red at the title you casually use to address him. “i’ll be holding you to what you said too.” you raise your eye brows a few times. he rolls his eyes and grabs your hand.

“stay by my side, okay?” he asks, before you both go down stairs. you beam at him and nod, both of you making a re-entrance to the party.