#[ -pulls you from the trash and washes your face- ]

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 12: What Would He Do If He Found Us Out?

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy?

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Party, Semi-Public Sex, Quickies, Unsafe Sex, Kidnapping, Murder, Torture, Betrayal, Attempted Murder, Tags Updated Per Chapter

Author’s Note: This story is gonna start getting dark and sad, so heads up. Content warnings for this chapter: kidnapping, murder, light torture, and misogyny.

Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay@nn-hh192 @photo1030 @just-pure-trash @julialoopeezz @hqxee @salientseraph @crypticlxrsh @lorenaloveslewis @tswizzleislike8foot4 @oziozzioslo

Chapter List

The sound of two men talking is what you woke up to, barely audible over the ringing in your ears and the rain coming down in heavy sheets. 

Blinking away the remnants of unconsciousness, the back of your head screamed out in pain as you raised it. You tried to grit your teeth but were unable to do so with the cloth between your lips, tied so tightly that it hurt. Confusion washed over you momentarily, before the memories of what happened before you lost consciousness came back. 

Panic took over now, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you whipped your head around, trying to find the source of the voices. You tried to move your arms, but they were unsurprisingly tied down, ropes long having since irritated your skin. 

The room you were in was dimly lit, moonlight trickling in from the window well, the only window you could see in the room. It only took a few moments of glancing around before recognition flashed in your mind. You were in the basement, a place you’d only been into on two occasions. Both times you’d been escorted by Hans, as he had the only key. So that means someone either took his key or…

On cue, a figure emerged from the shadows, finally noticing that you were awake. A lantern was in his hand, casting shadows across his face, and it took you having to squint to make out who it was. 

It was the beard you made out first, then his eyes, anger making them furrow. Any noises you made were muffled behind the cloth as Hans stood in front of you, bringing the lantern close to your face. You could feel the heat from both the lantern and his gaze burning your skin.

A second figure emerged from the shadows behind Hans, face obscured. The new figure placed a hand on Hans’ shoulder, pulling him back a few feet from you. He leaned down in front of you until his face was level with yours, allowing the lantern to fully illuminate his face. Your blood ran cold when you immediately recognized him, despite not seeing him for two years. 

It wasn’t your father, who you were expecting. 

No, seeing him hadn’t even been a possibility in your mind. 

A cruel smile pulled at his lips, something you’d never seen on him growing up, and you felt genuine terror. “Hello, sister.” Even though it had only been two years since you last saw him, he looked… different. Physically, he looked the same, hair a little longer, the last remnants of his soft, boyish features having vanished. It was his demeanor that was different, eyes cold and calculating, an air of superiority to his actions. 

His grin turned wider when you tried to talk, and in the low light, you saw the flash of a blade. Instinctively you leaned back as far as you could, nearly toppling the chair you were tied to in the process. But you could do nothing but watch as your brother brought the blade up to your face, cutting through the fabric between your lips. But he pressed too hard, and tears stung your eyes as he cut your cheek as well. “Whoops,” he muttered, not sounding the tiniest bit remorseful. 

He tugged the cloth from your mouth, turning red from the blood now dripping from your cheeks, and you stretched out your aching jaw. “J-Joey? What’re you doin’?”

He visibly flinched at the nickname, anger flashing in his eyes. “We ain’t children anymore. You best remember that.”

You swallowed, your throat dry and scratchy. Betrayal unlike anything you’d felt before tore at your heart, but you still refused to believe that your brother would do anything to harm you. “Joseph. What. Are. You. Doing?”

He laughed at that, standing back upright, swinging the blade without a care in the world. “What does it look like? I’m making sure everythin’ doesn’t fall apart.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“She still doesn’t know?” Your brother directed the question at Hans, who nodded. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I hadn’t expected you to hold up your end of the deal so well.”

If Hans was offended, he didn’t show. “What fuckin’ deal?” You spat out, eyes flicking between the two men.

“Now, that ain’t no talk for a lady. And I don’t think you’re in any position to be askin’ questions.”

You could hardly recognize the person in front of you, your younger brother. Long gone was the wide-eyed child that asked you to read him to sleep, or to mend his broken stuffed animals. “Joseph-”

You were cut off when he stuffed the cloth back into your mouth, nearly making you gag, and you resisted the urge to bite down on his fingers. Hurting him wouldn’t be in your favor right now. “You never know when to be silent, do you?” He asked, shaking his head lightly. “Even when we were kids, you could never just be quiet. You always had to be the center of attention, to get everything that you wanted. It was always about you.” 

He crouched down in front of you, resting the dagger on your thigh. “Do you know what it’s like, to to live in your shadow? To always be second to you. To watch you get everything, and leave me with crumbs?”

You managed to spit out the cloth, making his recoil slightly. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout?” He sighed, and you couldn’t help the slight bit of anger that flared. “Answer me!”

A sharp slap across the face stunned you, rings cutting into your cheek. Tears once again sprung to your eyes, and they flowed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood there. “God, you’re insufferable. You put up with this for two years?”

“She was never this… combative,” Hans admitted, talking about you like you weren’t a person, but a prize horse he was trying to sell.

“Let’s see those manners that mother taught you.” When you remained silent, a pleased look appeared on his face, getting true enjoyment from watching you break. “Very good,” he spoke condescendingly, following your gaze when you tried to avert it. 

You flinched when you felt the blade graze your leg, dangerously close to breaking skin. “Mr. Van Buren.” Hans’ tone was undistinguishable, but your brother took it as Hans was watching him doing something he wanted to do. 

The only word you could use to describe Joseph’s smile was sadistic as he stood, handing the knife to Hans. The older man eyed it warily, yet he still took it. His hands shook, but whether it was because of nerves or age you couldn’t tell. “Apologize,” Joseph spoke, taking a step back. “I’ll save you the honors. You’ve plenty you’d like to say to your wife, I suppose.”

“That I do.” His words made you shiver, a deathly anger to them, and for the first time since you’d gotten married, you were afraid of him. Knife in hand, he took Joseph’s place, and you felt the blade poke back into your leg. It would take one slice and you’d bleed out, and so you kept as still as you could. 

You didn’t have to think hard to know what Hans was about to say to you; it was either going to be about his business or Arthur. God, how you wished for Arthur to be here right now, to kick down the door and save you. But that was just a beautiful fantasy, one that brought you the tiniest semblance of comfort. It was at that point you realized that the only reason you weren’t fighting back was the possibility of never seeing him again. You were more likely to survive if you complied, right?

“How long?” Hans asked, demanded. 

“How long…?” You had to be careful now, not wanting to admit to something he didn’t know about.

“Don’t play coy,” he gritted his teeth, pressing the blade down harder. “How long were you working with them?”

“Helpin’ the Van Der Linde gang exploit your moonshine business?” A curt nod was all you got in response, but even then you could see a slight bit of surprise by your bluntness. “Since a few weeks after we met Mr. Van Der Linde in Rhodes.”

He chewed over your words for a few moments, time ticking by torturously slow. His expression was unreadable, which made you more worried than anything. His next question you weren’t expecting, your eyes widening in both shock and horror. “How long has he been coming over for?” So he knew about both things.

You both stared at each other, words escaping you momentarily. “For even longer,” you whispered, thinking it would be a smarter choice to tell the truth. “He… he kept me company while you were away.”

“‘Kept you company’,” he scoffed, partially in disbelief. 

You mustered up enough courage to ask a question. “How did you-” 

“I didn’t know for certain, but I had my suspicions when you wouldn’t put that newspaper down. Then I remembered how you used to stare at him like he was a saint, not some deranged outlaw, and it just clicked. I finally opened my eyes, refusing to ignorantly believe that after all I’ve done for you, that you’d betray me like that.”

“You’ve done nothing for me,” you seethed, pulling at your restraints, all cautions thrown to the wind. Two years of pent-up emotions came tumbling out, and you could do nothing to stop them. “You treated me like I was a fuckin’ accessory, not a person. You kept me caged, controlling everything little thing I did, trying to sculpt me into who you wanted me to be. And I let it happen, ‘cause I thought by sacrificing my fuckin’ freedom that I was helpin’ my family. But turns out that was all a lie,” you glared at Joseph, who seemed to be reveling in your outburst. “You didn’t care about me. You didn’t love me. So why should you care that I had someone else take care of that need?”

“Because you’re mine,” Hans practically screamed at you, the vein at his temple bulging. “You’re my wife, and I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

“I don’t belong to you,” you leaned forward, bringing your face as close to Hans as you could. You were surprised to find that you were able to move closer than you thought, the ropes looser than they were originally, your trashing no doubt making them so. But you kept your revelation to yourself, showing no indication on your face. “I am my own person. No one has claim to me.”

“What about Arthur?” You hated the way he said his name. 

“I belong to him as much as he belongs to me. Unlike you, he respects me. He treats me like a person, and he listens when I talk. He cares about me. He loves me. He’s earned the right to claim me as his, but only because I let him. I never gave that permission to you.”

“Then where is he?” Joseph finally spoke, not trying to hide the smugness in his voice. “If he cares about you as much as you claim, then where is he?” He chuckled, responding before you could answer. “If my memory serves me well, Arthur Morgan hasn’t been seen alive since the robbery in Saint Denis.” 

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of upsetting you, as much as you wanted to let your face fall. “He’s alive,” was all you said, a certainty you weren’t expecting in your infliction.

He just laughed. “If it makes you feel better, then keep telling yourself that.”

You took a shuddering breath. “What do you want?” You finally asked, glancing between Hans, who still sat crouched in front of you, and your brother, who was pacing slowly. Carefully, you began to twist your wrists, the action going unnoticed by the two men, loosening the rope even further. You swore you could slip your hands out if you wanted; you just needed an opportunity to do so. 

“I’m making sure that you don’t mess everything up, sister. I’ve worked so hard to make sure everything’s been perfect for the past two years, and I’m not about to let you mess it all up.” Joseph spoke as he walked past you, heading straight to the basement stairs. “Do with her as you wish, Hans. Just make sure she stays… quiet.” 

“Joseph, don’t-”

“I’ll send the family your regards. Oh, how excited they were to hear from you again.” You couldn’t see him any longer, but you knew he was smiling. “How tragic that a terrible, contagious illness has rendered you bedridden.”

“Joey-”

Slam!

The basement hatch closed, shaking the foundation of the house, and making your head pound. With a thundering heart, you realized it was just you and Hans in the basement, and he still had the knife trained on your leg. A whimper left you when he dragged it up until it poked you right in the center of your chest. “You’ve humiliated me, you know,” you heard Hans mutter. 

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t lie to me,” his voice was dripping with hatred. “You’re just gonna make this harder for yourself.”

“Hans-”

“Just a quick thrust, and it’ll be done.” He was mainly speaking to himself, his eyes trained on the blade that sat above your heart. “Or should I draw this out, make it hurt?”

Too distracted by the prospect of doing unimaginable things to you, he didn’t notice that your hands were now free of their bindings. A well-aimed punch to the nose sent him falling backward, his head hitting the hard cement floor. It wasn’t enough to render him unconscious, but it disoriented him momentarily, and he lost grip of the knife, sending it scattering across the floor. 

You were on your feet in seconds, thankful that they hadn’t had the mind to tie your legs down. Hans had just recovered when you got the weapon in your hands, holding it out in front of you. “Let me go,” you warned him, taking slight pride in the fact that his nose was now crooked, blood spewing from it. 

“You bitch,” he roared, making you panic that Joseph heard him. You didn’t have much time to think, though, before he was lunging at you. You managed to sidestep him, his movements slow, but weren’t expecting him to stick out a leg as you ran past. It wasn’t enough to make you fall to the floor, but you stumbled. 

It gave him enough of an opportunity to reach at you from behind, arms wrapping around your waist as if he had completely forgotten you had a knife in your hands. Or maybe he was convinced that you wouldn’t use it. If that was the case, then he was in for the surprise of his life.

It only took one plunge into his arm before he was letting you go, a cry of pain leaving him. Even in the dim light, you could see the blood now coating the blade, and you had to fight back a wave of nausea. 

Spinning around, you watched as he gripped his now wounded forearm, crimson spilling between his fingers. Pure hatred shone in his eyes, and you watched as he let go of his injury to reach for something in his pocket. All you had to see was the grip of a gun before you were lunging at him yourself, blade outstretched. 

A horrible noise filled the room as the knife burrowed into his chest, the breath being knocked out of Hans as it did. Slowly, he looked down to where it was embedded, then back up to you, the fire slowly leaving his eyes. You heard your name being muttered before he fell to his knees in front of you, life quickly leaving his body.

He tried to speak again, but could only muster a small gurgle. Bile rose in your throat, but you forced it back down. “Oh, God,” you whimpered and were about to run your hands down your face until you noticed they were covered in blood. 

You could do nothing but watch as Hans finally fell, head hitting the cement as the last bit of air left his body, before going completely still. Despite everything, you couldn’t help the tinge of sorrow you felt in your heart, never have taken a life before, and a small sob left you. 

Thudding from upstairs quickly tore you from your lamenting, and taking a steadying breath you regained enough composure to move. With shaky hands, you grabbed the gun that was still in Hans’ pocket, making sure to not look at his face, the expression of shock forever etched onto it. Your hands shook as you grasped the weapon, which you were relieved to find was a revolver, albeit a bit heavier than the one Arthur taught you to use. Still, you’d be able to use it. 

Another loud thump from upstairs made you jump, and you realized you needed to get the hell out of there. Going up the stairs was out of the question, leaving you with just the window as well as your only means of escape. Dashing over, you were relieved to find that the window locked from the inside, and was definitely large enough to allow you to crawl through. 

Throwing the window open, you were immediately met with rain pelting your skin, irritating the wounds on your body. Shrugging it off, you climbed into the well, fighting with your skirts the entire time. Eventually, you were able to stand, and slowly but surely you began to climb up the brick walls, not before tossing the gun to the top.

You’d barely gotten halfway out before you heard the sound of the basement hatch being slammed open, and adrenaline took over You refused to let yourself be taken prisoner by your brother. Another thought crossed your mind, providing you with the extra push you needed to climb out of the well; you needed to see Arthur again. 

Gasping for breath, you lay on your back for a second, your body immediately getting soaked with rain. Glancing around, you recognized that you were in front of the house, the porch to your right. You didn’t even bother to glance at it, heading straight for the dark forest that surrounded your house.

Grimacing, you grabbed the gun and stood up, your bare feet squishing into the mud as you began to run. Where to, you had no idea, but you needed to escape. So caught up in surviving, you failed to notice the two horses tied up near the entrance, one of them nickering in recognition. 

You’d barely stepped foot into the forest before you heard your name being shouted, loudly despite the rain coming down heavily. Despite how loud it was, you couldn’t recognize the voice. Or maybe you refused to recognize it. All you know is that it just pushed you deeper into the forest, your running turning into a full-on sprint. 

Sticks and twigs tore at you as you sprinted, cutting into your skin. Your bare feet cried out in pain with every sharp rock and piece of wood you stepped on, but you ignored them. But you could only run for so long, especially with how heavy your dress had gotten from the rain, and before you knew it you were slowing down. 

Ducking behind a large tree, you gave yourself a moment to catch your breath, the gun shaking in your hands. It was then you finally heard the sound of someone tearing through the forest behind you, and you readied the gun in your hand as they drew closer. 

It was incredibly dark, and you could barely even see a few inches in front of you. Making yourself as quiet as possible, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you waited. 

And waited.

And waited, until finally a dark figure appeared at your right, their steps slow. He was leaning forward, like he was following your track, before looking up in confusion when it suddenly stopped. It was then you cocked the gun, making the stranger spin around, his hands up. 

You couldn’t make out his features, but you didn’t have to see him to know who it was. Still, you wouldn’t let yourself believe it was actually him, and you held the gun up in front of you, both hands gripping it, just like he taught you. 

You heard your name leave his lips, oh-so softly, the familiarity of it making your heart ache. Yet, you shook your head, keeping the gun raised high, despite the way your hands shook. He took a step towards you, keeping his hands raised, and you didn’t stop him. Even as he brought his hands on top of the barrel and pushed it down gently, you didn’t stop him. It was like you’d lost control of your body. 

Tears mixed in with the rain that ran in rivulets down your cheeks, a pained noise leaving you as you finally let the gun drop. He caught it before it hit the ground, and he pocketed it, eyes never once leaving yours. Even though you knew those blue eyes so well, you couldn’t bring yourself to move anymore, and a sympathetic sigh left the man in front of you. 

“Darlin’...” he murmured, voice raspier than you remembered, and a calloused hand grasped your face softly, reverently. 

“Arthur?” Your voice cracked and wavered, yet it was hopeful. 

“Unfortunately,” he tried to joke, but emotion made his words sound heavy. A thumb brushed over your cheek, narrowly avoiding the wound there. “What did they do to ya…”

Finally, a sob tore through you, and it wasn’t so much that your body let you move than it was your legs giving out beneath you, and you flung your arms around his shoulders. His body was thinner than you remembered, yet it was still him, and another sob racked your body as you buried your face into his neck. He still smelled of gunpowder and tobacco. 

Oh, how you missed that scent.

Immediately, his hands were on you, one of them cradling the back of your head, the other resting on the small of your back. His lips pressed against the top of your head, providing an overwhelming sense of relief to flood your body. You were safe. He was alive. 

Arthur murmured sweet nothings into your ear as he held you, letting you cry and sob and shake in his embrace. Even as the rain soaked both of your bodies, he continued to hold you, like the elements did not affect him. 

Eventually, your cries rescinded, coming out as hiccups instead. Peeling your head away, you glanced up at Arthur, still partially convinced that this was all a dream. His hair was longer than last time, and instinctively you reached a hand to run your fingers through it, at least as well as you could with his hat on. “I’m so sorry-”

“You came back to me,” you cut him off accidentally but were glad of it.

“Of course,” he responded almost immediately, instinctively. “I promised, didn’t I?”

“But… but what happened, Arthur?” I thought you were dead. 

He sighed, a soft smile still on his lips. “I promise I’ll tell ya, but you’re gonna catch your death out here. Let’s get back to the house.”

You shook your head, fear overtaking you momentarily. “He’s back at the house, I-”

“We’ve got him, darlin’. Don’t worry ‘bout that.” He paused a moment, unsure of how to ask the next question. “And your husband?”

“Dead.”

You had no idea if he realized that you were the one who killed him. He simply nodded and then placed another gentle kiss on your head. You felt an arm secure behind your legs, and you weren’t given a chance to protest before he was lifting you bridal-style. “Let’s get outta here.”

You didn’t have any arguments against that. Now that adrenaline had worn off, you finally realized how cold you were, shivering in Arthur’s grasp, despite the warmth you felt radiating from his body. It was strange, the way everything seemed to click into place once you were back in his arms. He expertly weaved his way through the forest, careful not to let any more branches snag at your body, and eventually, the house came into view.

You weren’t shivering because of the cold anymore, and you pressed yourself as close as you could to Arthur. You hated how small those two men were making you feel, and how much power they had over you even though they were both currently not an issue. A light cough from Arthur tore you from your thoughts, and it seemed like he was holding back a coughing fit.

He carried you right up the porch stairs and right into the house, setting you on your feet in the living room. You cringed as your mud-covered feet made contact with the ground, and you felt him chuckle lightly. “I’ll clean it, I promise.”

Any response you had tied in your throat when you saw movement out of the corner of your eye in the kitchen. It wasn’t the tied-up unconscious form of your brother that you saw first, rather it was the woman with a gun behind him. Something about her was familiar, and despite every instinct in your body telling you otherwise, you took a step towards her.

It was her eyes that you recognized, ones you’d seen in Arthur’s sketchbook. They were filled with rage, just like you remembered. If you thought they made you uneasy in a drawing, it was even worse in person. Still, you kept your head up high, not wanting to make a bad impression. 

You felt Arthur behind you, a hand planted on the small of your back. “Darlin’, this is-”

“Sadie Adler,” you finished his sentence, catching them both by surprise. 

“Mrs. Kerrigan,” she nodded to you. 

“Please, just my first name is fine. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You took another step towards her, bowing your head slightly. “Although I would’ve preferred it to be under less… macabre circumstances.”

She chuckled at that, falling into an easy stance. “The feeling’s mutual. Arthur’s told me all about you.”

“Is that so?” You turned to look at Arthur, who met your eye, yet had a slight blush to his cheeks. Now in a well-lit area, you noticed that his skin was tanner than the last time you saw him, yet even that couldn’t hide how tired he looked. The circles beneath his eyes were impossibly dark, and you could now see that his eyes were bloodshot. You opened your mouth to ask about it, but the sound of your brother groaning captured your attention.

When you turned, you saw that Sadie had her gun already trained on him, her other hand yanking back his head by the hair. “What’re you doin’ here?” You hear Sadie ask, her voice sounding more like a growl than anything. “Whaddya want with her?”

You answered for him. “He’s my brother,” you explained softly, and you heard Arthur inhale sharply. “He and my husband struck a deal two years ago, but apparently I was close to ruinin’ whatever they had goin’ on. They… they were gonna kill me.” You rubbed at your irritated wrists, which allowed Arthur to finally see the rope burn there.

Warm hands encapsulated your wrist, tugging it towards his chest as he moved beside you. His expression was nothing short of murderous, his jaw clenched so tight you swore you could hear his teeth grinding. “They tied ya up?” He asked like he couldn’t even fathom someone doing that to you. 

You nodded your head, flashes of the last hour popping into your mind, but you ignored them as best you could. “Thankfully they weren’t very good at it.”

He hummed in agreement. “What’s this ‘bout a deal?”

“I ain’t too sure,” you admitted. “All I know is it had to do with my marriage. He refused to tell me anythin’ more.”

“We’ll get some answers for ya.” The sound of Sadie’s voice made you jump, momentarily forgetting she and your brother were still in the room. Even still, you could get so distracted by Arthur, especially when he was touching you. He let your wrist drop, but he kept a light touch on your back, reminding you of his presence, comforting you. 

Your brother groaned your name as he continued to come to, brows furrowed in confusion when he felt the rope restraints around his arms and legs. “W-What’s goin’ on?” He slurred out, eyes darting between you and Arthur, wincing when Sadie tugged harshly at his hair.

“I don’t think you’re in any position to be askin’ questions, brother,” you spat his own words back at him. 

“Oh, spare me the dramatics,” he scoffed, his attitude returning to him, despite the position he was in. “What do you want?”

“I want, no, deserve an explanation.” You were impressed by how steady your voice was. “What deal did you make with Hans? What did you do?”

He attempted to struggle against the ropes, but his attempt was cut short by the sound of a gun being cocked behind him. “She asked ya a question,” the woman behind him spoke lowly. 

He sighed dramatically like this was all some minor inconvenience. “Look, this is all a small misunderstanding-”

“‘Small misunderstanding’?” Your voice rattled your ears. “This is my fuckin’ life we’re talkin’ ‘bout here! Not a petty disagreement!”

“Bring Hans in, and we’ll explain-”

Without thinking, you grabbed the knife off of Arthur’s belt, too quick for him to stop you. All you could see was red as you charged at your brother, yet you still had enough restraint to prevent the blade from sinking into his chest. Instead, the tip of it poked his skin, most likely hard enough to draw blood beneath his shirt. “He’s dead, Joseph. I killed him. And I’m gonna kill you too if you don’t start talkin’.”

You were grateful that neither Arthur nor Sadie tried to ease you away. Instead, they watched on, both impressed in their own ways. For a moment, you saw fear flash across your brother's face, clearly not expecting his docile sister to ever attempt to bring harm to him. He gulped, face turning pale, and you watched as his eyes flicked to Arthur, attempting to find any help in this situation.

“You best answer her,” is all Arthur said, taking a step closer to you. Not to stop you, but in support. 

“Sister-”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t-”

“Tell me!” 

He cried out when you pressed the blade in deeper, his head bobbing in all directions. “Okay! Okay! J-Just stop! Please!” Tears ran down his cheeks, and for a moment you saw your little brother again, scared and helpless, and despite yourself, you felt an instinctive need to protect him. But you were able to shake that off, especially when his eyes returned to your own, filled with intense malice. 

He sighed out in relief when you let up some, and he let his head hang limply. “Me… Me and Hans came to an arrangement two years ago. He’d get a wife, you, and unrestricted travel through northern New Hanover, for his moonshine. And I would receive a cut of his profits,” he took a breath, “and I would be free of you.”

“Free of me?”

He groaned. “Yes. With you out of the picture, I’d be the one to inherit the family’s business. I wouldn’t have to live in your shadow anymore. I’d be the head of the Van Buren family, as is my right as a first-born son. I don’t know what father was thinking, planning to let his daughter inherit everything. It goes against everything society expects, and if that were to happen, we’d be freaks. Outcasts. I did this to protect our family.”

“Oh no, don’t lie. You did it for your own selfish needs. You were jealous.”

“And so what if I was?” Joseph snarled. “Our entire childhood, you were treated like you were a goddess. Whatever you wanted, you got. If you were wrong, you were right. Mother and father catered to your every whim, while I was told to figure it out myself.”

“How is that my fault?”

He ignored you. “So yeah, I was jealous. But any person in that position would be. And when father said he was signing away all ownership of the business to you, I damn near lost it.”

“And so you thought the next best thing to do was to marry me off, which you had no right to do.”

“I didn’t marry you off. That was father’s doing.”

“But why?” Joseph looked away, and your stomach dropped. “You made him do it.”

“It didn’t take much to convince father that you’d fallen pregnant with Hans’ child. Rather than deal with the embarrassing matter of your first-born daughter having a child out of wedlock, he agreed to let you marry Hans to prevent any sort of ill reputation from falling on our family. But being the kind man he is, he didn’t want to humiliate you by letting you know that he knew you were with child, so he lied and told you that this was for… what was it… ‘financial stability’.” 

You couldn’t tell if you wanted him to be silent or to spill every detail. Your head was spinning so much you swore you were about to collapse. 

“But… he wouldn’t just take you at your word. Right?”

Joseph shook his head, chuckling humorlessly. “Your handwriting is quite easy to replicate sister. A few fake letters between you and Hans, paying a few people to spread some rumors, it didn’t take much.” He paused, remembering something. “Remember how sick you got a week before your wedding?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

He ignored you again. “It was like the smell of food made you sick, and each morning you’d be hunched over a bowl. A bit suspicious, no?”

“What did you do?”

“Our staff is surprisingly easy to pay off,” he laughed. “It only took a bit of money to get the chefs to slip a little something extra into your meals.”

You gasped, recoiling from him slightly. “You… you poisoned me?”

His mouth opened and closed like he was trying to find some other explanation, but he eventually gave up. “Yes.”

So many questions bounced around your head. Why Hans? What was the extent of his part of the agreement? Why couldn’t I see the rest of our family? Why didn’t you just talk to me? 

There were so many questions, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to ask them. You were overwhelmed, betrayed, hurt, and lost. A distressed noise spilled from you, unable to be stopped, and you stumbled backward. The knife was pulled from your hand by Arthur, tucking it back into his belt before wrapping an arm around you, pressing his front against your back, steadying you.

Your chest heaved, rapid breaths leaving you, the room spinning. “Sadie, get him outta here.” His voice carried the fury of a thousand men, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. It was never at you.

Sadie didn’t have to be told twice, understanding flashing across her face. Joseph cried out when she yanked his hair up hard, pulling him to his feet. She pushed him to the doorway, his tied-together feet tripping him with each step. “Take him to the Van Buren estate,” you muttered, focusing your last bit of composure on speaking. “He’s gonna tell them everything.”

Dread washed across Joseph’s features, and he shook his head like a petulant child. “I’m not-”

“Shut it!” Sadie smacked him across the face with her gun, drawing blood, before directing her attention to you and Arthur. “Should I wait for y’all out there, or…?”

“We’ll meet ya there.” You felt his fingers squeeze your hip. I’ve got other priorities, it said. “You’ve got him alright?”

“This puny thing?” She barked out a laugh. “I’ve got him, Arthur. I’ll see ya both there, then.” With a nod, she exited the house, dragging Joseph along behind her.

You felt Arthur speak, but you couldn’t hear him, your fast breathing and pounding heart the only thing you could. Gently, you felt him turn you so that you were facing him, hands then immediately cupping the sides of your face. His lips moved, but you couldn’t understand him, and you shook your head at him. Or maybe your entire body was shaking. You couldn’t tell. 

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt his thumbs brush tears away. The ringing in your ears was incessant, making your head spin even more. Your shaky hands scrabbled for purchase on Arthur’s body, fingers grasping the material of his shirt with uncontained desperation to find security. 

It was when Arthur brought your head against his that you finally heard his words. “Let it out, darlin’.”

Whatever restraint you had left snapped, a terrible wail erupting from you, barely being muffled as you buried your face into his chest. Sobs wracked your body as you slid to the floor, Arthur’s arms keeping you from collapsing completely as he followed you down. 

You’re not sure how long you sat there, crying until your body couldn’t produce any more tears, lacking the energy to continue to shake your body with sobs. But you realized it wasn’t just the events of the past hour that had upset you so deeply. No, you realized you were in mourning. 

You were mourning those past two years, years that you’d never get back. Mourning years that had been taken away from you, sacrificed in your brother’s game of greed. Years that weren’t his to have, which never had been, and never would be, yet he took them anyway. 

Eventually, you managed to lift your head enough to look at Arthur, but what you saw nearly made you break again. 

He was crying too. 

[shuenkio]

Admire not from afar | Enha Hyung line

Paring: hyung-line x male!reader

Genre: Suggestive.

Cw: swearing, fantasize.

Pov: Co-workers having obsession admire at you.

Wc: 400+

Non proof read/ English is not my 1st lang.

Lhs: Nerdy-quite guy who would stalk your social media, having your face on his wallpaper, while bragging to his friends that you're his one and only boyfriend, even though it's not true.

 

It's getting out of hand when you realize that he's the one who left those unknown, randomly given gifts in your locker every single morning. Eventually you started to ignore and avoid him at all costs, to the point that when you went home from work one day, you found him there, sitting while crossing his leg as he lean against the wooden chair inside your apartment. 

 

"Hello, baby boy, I see you avoiding me, so I'd like to pay you a visit. How do you like that?" 

Pjs: Everyone praises him not because of his potential or talents in the workplace; it's because he's related to the CEO of the company. You hate people who are overpowered by their money and not their own work, so you're brave enough to say what comes to mind when they make a mistake. 

 

Finally, you just got yourself into trouble; however, since he liked you enough to spare your life, he had another plan. 

 

While going to the bathroom to wash your dirty hands, you suddenly feel a pair of hands grab your forearm before pulling you inside the bathroom stall, locking the door at instant. 

 

"You've been a really bad boy lately, Mn! How dumb are you to not realize I'm your crazy secret Santa? Now you're going to pay for your consequences, darling." 

Sjy: The happiest guy is everyone's lifesaver and lover. Whenever there's a problem in the company, he'll always be there to fix the issue using his sexy brain in a blink of an eye. As a new employee, you were impressed at how much the other workers liked him, and the answer is quite obvious. 

 

Little did you know, not all good guys are innocent and nice; Jake also had his dark side too. He likes to take advantage of new employees like you, and at the end of the day, he'll throw them out as if they were some pieces of used trash. 

 

Nevertheless, when he laid eyes on you, it seemed like he couldn't stop thinking about you; you're that special to make him head over heels for you that bad. 

 

Late at night, as you take the elevator to the ground floor, Jake is also in the elevator, and you never know what will happen. 

 

"Mn, you might think I'm all bright and amazing, but did you know that every time I see you, I love fantasizing about you being under me?" 

 

Psh: This guy was cold as ice; no wonder he's the best employee of the month almost every single time, despite how hard he's working alone. Regardless of being friends with him for so long, you still don't know his personal life, his daily routine, or his inside. You couldn't care much since you respect his decision to keep himself.

 

But the reason why he won't let you visit him at his apartment is because all your pictures that he's captured every chance he's gotten were pinned and spread all over his room like a crime detective investigation. Not only is he obsessed, he already had plan B if you said no to his confession one day. 

 

"I'd give up heaven if I had to make you mine, little man." 

 

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ crd to all pics&dividers

🗣️ I can't imagine makenae line going to work like what 🤓 Anyway this is my last updated this week, since I have another exam next week, so I'll come back once I'm alive again!

[luveline]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

miguel assumes you're mad when you stop initiating kisses and tries to get back on your good side —featuring grumpy but lovelorn miguel and his head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. requested here. fem!reader, 3k.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

"Gàn de piàoliang!" cheers the puppy at the bottom of your screen. Well done.

You smile at him and slide your finger across a lilac candy to make another three-match. 

The music playing from your phone quietens as a text lines the top of the screen. You click it as soon as you recognise the contact picture beside it, your handsome Miguel with a filter over his face that paints rosy pink hearts over his high cheeks. 

Finished. his text says. 

Miguel is a man of little words. Over the phone he talks even less, easier to draw blood from stone than harness a conversation with him that isn't in person. His text demarcates the wall of messages you sent him earlier, not wanting for a reply but bursting to tell him things as they happened. 

You put your phone down carefully. It's one of your most treasured possessions, shimmering and high tech, you can fold it down the middle to fit in your little spider suit pockets, though the amount of charms and beads hanging from it now impedes that particular functionality.

Miguel gave it to you as a gift without any fanfare around the time you started staying in his apartment in the society, and while your bunking with him was supposed to be temporary, the phone is for keeps. You've decorated it accordingly.

The best charm is a beaded translucent jellyfish, and not solely because it's beautiful: Miguel has a matching one that he showcases shamelessly. 

You rush into his neat bathroom and lean heavily on the counter, propping your hand on the faucet to hold your weight as you assess your reflection in the mirror. When you turn your face, your nose shines in the light. 

You decide it's best to wash up. Miguel will be back soon enough. 

You get distracted by skincare, toner pads resting on your cheeks when you hear the door opening. A waste to take them off prematurely, you pat them flat to your skin and meet Miguel in his bedroom half ready. 

"I can see why you didn't text me back," he says, giving you a quick glance from the corner of his eye as he walks past the bed and your waiting phone. He beelines for the kitchenette and disappears around the corner. "What do they do, the squares?" 

"They're calming, I think," you say, following his path from the bathroom to the small kitchen. 

His apartment is big but not huge. The main room is his bedroom, with enough space for a couch and a TV he never uses that comes out of the wall. To the right is a utility closet for storage and a walk-in wardrobe, and to the left lies the kitchen and the bathroom. It takes you all of ten seconds to be by his side. 

Bottles rattle as Miguel opens the fridge. He grabs sparkling water for himself and a fruit tea concoction for you. You hadn't followed him for that, but you accept it anyway. 

He looks tired. Tilting his head back to drink, you eye the stiff set to his shoulders and the way he rolls his arm out, orchestrating an offer for a massage in your head. 

Miguel squints at you. "What?" 

"What?" you ask back. 

He doesn't explain. He screws the lid back on to his water and closes the fridge. 

With his empty hand, Miguel reaches for your face. You stay very still in anticipation of his touch, imagining how he might take your cheek in his hand and pull you close, or perhaps curl thick, long fingers behind your neck and guide your chin up. He can be rough in odd ways, as though he's unaware of his strength. 

"It's slimy," he says in disgust, pulling a toner pad from your left cheek. 

"It's going to make my skin clearer." 

"There's nothing wrong with your skin." True or not, you know it's Miguel's way of being sweet. He takes the second toner pad too, tossing them in the trash with a huff. "That's better. You look normal. Or, as normal as possible." 

"Jerk!" you say through a smile, thinking now's the moment. 

But Miguel hasn't peeled away your skincare to kiss you. He pats a spot of dampness on your cheek away with the back of his hand and turns on his heel, gunning for a change of clothes and a shower, if you know him. "Drink your tea. Did you eat? Me preocupo por ti." 

You sigh and trail after him. "I was waiting for you to come back. It's Vietnamese week in the cafeteria, they're making cá kho tộ. Do you like that? It's sweeter than hake." 

"It's fish?" 

"Catfish. Caramelised catfish." You sit down on the bed, flipping your phone open to play your game while he decides. 

That, and to ignore the inkling of doubt blossoming like mould under heat in your chest. An achy sort of worry… 

Does Miguel not want to kiss you? 

"What's the other option? I don't like sweet foods." 

You knew that already. "You could make pasta?" you suggest. 

"You'd love that." 

"Are you teasing me?" 

Miguel pokes his head out of the wardrobe, and with it comes his naked chest. His muscles are insane, lean tanned stretches of cord pulled taut as he grabs a shirt. "I'm making an observation. You like carbs." 

"Everyone likes carbs, Miguel, especially Spiders." 

"I know, but I don't make anyone else dinner." He's definitely flirting now, his voice playful and soft. "I'll make you pasta if you want." 

Why hasn't he kissed you? Offering to make you dinner, smiling at you just as soon as his face has been pulled through his t-shirt. He's acting as affectionate as a man who'd like to kiss you without pulling through. 

Well, maybe you kiss him too much. Come to think of it, you initiate the vast, vast majority of kisses, and you must kiss him twice a day at least. Miguel clearly favours you, but it's possible he isn't interested in as much physicality as you and hasn't had the heart to say. He likes watching vintage movies at night and half the time you're not interested in those. You haven't said a word about it because things between you are new and you like his being happy watching the things he enjoys. Miguel could be doing the same, allowing hugs and kisses he doesn't necessarily want in order to avoid hurting your feelings. 

A favourite phrase of his cuts through your thinking, "¿Alguien en casa?" Anyone home?

"Oh, sorry, were you not getting enough attention?" you ask him, pretending to be more nonchalant than you are as you open the match game on your phone. 

The puppy barks hello. 

"Ah, you're a cómico now." Miguel sits on the bed beside you in sweatpants, reaching across the sheets to give your arm a shake. "I said, I'll make you pasta if you want pasta." 

"I want what you want," you say honestly. 

He stares at you. You're not sure what he's confused about. "Alright. Did you want it now?" he asks. 

"Yes, serf," you say, laughing when he knocks your phone out of your hand and stands in a dramatised annoyance. 

You play a couple levels of your game to give him space. He's quiet as he washes his hands and gets out the cookware, but he appears curious in the door, rag between his hands. "You're not gonna come and sit with me? I really am your maid." 

Eager for an invitation, you join him in the kitchen. You brace yourself behind you to hop onto the counter and find his hands on your hips, helping you up. 

Miguel meets your eyes as he does, not close but enough to beckon down for a kiss. You think about doing it. He might let you, his straight lashes pointed with his gaze, his eyes a heavy weight where they trace your features unhurried. 

"How come you didn't text me back earlier?" he asks. 

"Oh, I didn't know you were expecting me to. I'm sorry, handsome, I was kind of grody–"

"Grody? I doubt that–" 

"–I figured I'd wash up before you got back." 

"So you were busy?" he asks, returning to the chopping board at the left of the stove. He picks up a glinting-sharp knife. "Not something else?" 

"No, why? Was I supposed to do something today?" 

Miguel begins slicing into a tomato, red skin splitting to reveal greener insides. "No. No, just wondering." 

You lean back against the wall, crossing a leg over your thigh. He's being kind of off. Your first impulse is to try and kiss it better but that directly fights your new theory. Being nice physically is far from your only weapon. 

"Did you have a good day?" you ask, and here's where you'd pull him close or sidle up behind him and twist his hair around your finger. "I was thinking about you a lot. Did the strike mission go okay?" 

"Fine. You didn't come see me, but it was fine." 

You eye him from the corner of your vision. He's still cutting up tomatoes, a pan of olive oil and minced garlic simmering between you. 

"I sent you all those photos," you say. 

One of the Peter's you hang around with got his arm stuck in a window after he said, "Is that a bad idea, do you think? I really wanna try," and Hobie said, "They can't stop you." 

The 'they' being unknown, Hobie was right. No one could stop Peter once he started climbing, but the window could certainly stop him from getting down. You'd sent Miguel pictures of his dangling body up in the atrium like a dark splodge, as well as a blurry photo of your face when you'd accidentally turned the camera. He responded to that one with a heart but the rest he didn't touch. 

"They got him down eventually," you continue, "but I had to stay for moral support! And to feed him popcorn so he didn't starve. Was it peaceful without me?"

"You know I like when you visit me, right?" he asks carefully. 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah?" he mimics, waving his hand at you. "Can't deal with you. Get the cream from the fridge." 

You eat dinner as you and Miguel tend to do —you talk your way through it happily, smiling and joking, and he puts extra helpings on your plate when you aren't looking. 

The alien quality of what you're doing rears its head briefly. He's trying to stop the quasi apocalypse. You're willing to help, though you'd been more interested in Miguel and getting to know his enigma than your responsibilities. Weird how love makes you want to be better. 

"What was your course like?" Miguel asks, when the dishes have been set aside for washing and you've showered for the night. 

He's talkative tonight. 

"They taught us how to wield a baton," you say, climbing into his bed with a tired sigh. "One girl was crazy about it. She kind of looked like me…" You yawn, looking for his waist as he settles in the sheets and pillows next to you. "You're lucky I got my claws into you when I did. At least I'm not murderous. Much." 

Miguel covers your hand on his ribs. He squeezes your fingers together gently like he's collecting them under his palm for borrowing. 

"You didn't get your claws in me. I'm not easily led." 

"Course not," you snort. You actually agree with him, but he said it too seriously for bedtime. 

Miguel abandons your hand to pull you in, encouraging your head and upper chest onto his, hand coasting up and down the length of your arm lovingly. Firmly, like a massage, but adoring nonetheless. You languish in his touches and rub your lips, still tingling from spearmint, against the collar of his shirt gently. As indirect a kiss as you can manage, practically sick with longing after a day unkissed. 

"Are you mad at me?" he asks into the quiet.

You pause, fingers with a mind of their own as you take a long strand of hair that curls under his ear between them, combing it flat. "Why, have you done something?" you ask, hiding your confusion with a delighted lilt. 

"I've been trying to work that out." Frustration seeps into his voice, roughened syllables drawn tight, "But you're evasive." 

"I'm evasive," you say softly, tilting your head back to meet his eye. "Miguel, why do you think I'm mad at you? I'm not mad." 

Miguel glares at you. Brows furrowed, an especially formidable downturn to an otherwise pretty mouth, he looks as though he wants to start a fight with you, and as though he doesn't believe it. 

"I'm not mad," you insist, sitting up a little. 

"Then…" 

You scrunch your brows at him. "You've been thinking I was mad at you all day? Why didn't you say something, handsome?" 

He might roll his eyes at your pet name if he weren't knee deep in relief. You didn't know being mad at him was something he'd be sad with, and yet there he is lying beneath you, blowing a big enough exhale to ruffle the hair from his forehead. 

Miguel takes your face into one hand. Your eyelashes flutter against his palm like a shuddering butterfly wing as you lean into his touch, more than happy to offer him whatever relief it is he needs while enjoying in the feeling of being close to him. 

"You haven't kissed me all day," he says quietly. "I thought I must've pissed you off, 'cos you're more piranha than girl sometimes, but you weren't acting any weirder than usual beyond that." 

You roll your eyes and hide your face in his hand. He's kidding around, and his thumb rubs over your skin tenderly to prove it. 

"You're not mad?" he asks again. 

You kiss his palm. You kiss his wrist, happy when he knows the moves like a well practised dance, his fingers sliding behind your ear to steady you as you dip down for a kiss. 

It's a good kiss. Warm mouths vying for one another but trying not to seem desperate, Miguel's hand behind your ear growing harsher as you pull a breath against his lips. You press your hand into his pec too hard. 

"Sorry," you murmur, stealing another fast kiss and pulling away. 

You barely feel how uncomfortably you're skewed, you're that happy. 

"Is there a reason you wouldn't kiss me?" he asks. 

"I'm, like, always the first one to initiate and I kinda got it in my head maybe you didn't want me kissing you that much…" You grin at him. "The whole time you're playing twenty questions with me wishing I'd lay one on you. You know you have a voice for more than yelling at people, right?" 

Miguel gets this look in his eyes then, rolling his jaw a touch at the supposed audacity of what you've said. The tip of his tongue works at his canine tooth, his eyebrows rising as he asks, "Oh, is that how you're talking to me tonight?" 

"How else should I talk to you, Miguel?" 

He doesn't bother with swiftness nor a show of strength as he rolls you onto your back. He settles above you with measured movements, a pleased smirk playing on his lips now. His eyes are dark, pupils wide as dimes.

"With compassion, mi cielo," he says.

"Have some sympathy for me," you implore him, wrapping your arms around his waist. It diffuses the tension, though neither party minds, evidenced by Miguel's easy relaxation and your ecstatic mood. Happiness bubbles up like carbonated bubbles, your chest awake with a fizzing excitement. "You really thought I was mad 'cos I wasn't kissing you?" 

He avoids the question. "You think you're the only one who initiates?" he asks genuinely. 

"Why didn't you kiss me, then? When you came home?" 

"Your face was wet." 

"And after when we were eating dinner?" 

Miguel smiles at you. No sarcasm, no stress. He leans down to kiss you chastely, pulling away to say, "I thought you were definitely mad at that point." 

"A kiss would've made me feel better." 

You realise how quiet your bubble of the world really is for that handful of seconds, Miguel holding himself above you, your hands loose behind the broad stretch of his back. 

"You know you can just ask me, yeah? You don't have to worry and wonder how I'm feeling. I'll tell you how I'm feeling if you want to know." 

"Cariño, I always want to know," he says. 

You breathe out slowly. Miguel takes your face into his hand for another kiss, or so you think —he pinches your cheek. 

"And I always want to kiss you," he says quickly, climbing off of you. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I need a drink." 

A break from sincerity. You don't mind that he needs to walk it off as long as he comes back. You stretch out on your back and cover your face with your hands. 

"People think I'm the weird one," you say into them.

A hand clamps around your ankle and tugs you down. You shriek with startled laughter and climb away from him as he lands on top of you, a cold water bottle held to your bare neck. 

"No!" you laugh. 

Miguel laughs in tandem and presses it further down. 

"I really am going to be mad at you if you don't quit!" You yelp as condensation wets your collar. "Miguel!"

"You're a wimp," he says with a bright smile. 

You push him with some enhanced super strength and manage to get the water bottle off of your neck, but Miguel makes up for any differences in strength with enthusiasm and muscle alike, shoving you down. 

You're laughing and pleading at the same time, "Please, Miguel, stop, it's sooooo cold." 

Miguel laughs, dropping the bottle somewhere above your head, covering the cooled stripe of your skin with his big hand. The sound is warming enough, but you let him sweat for a second, content to be doted on. 

He gives you a once over. "I'll kiss you first more," he promises. 

"Starting now, please, handsome. Mi cielo." 

Miguel groans and digs his arms under your back. You don't fight it as he drags you back to the top of the bed. In fact, you quite enjoy it. You lay back to receive his sorry pecks and his all encompassing hug, forgetting what you'd been worried about one damp crescent moon of a kiss at a time.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!

[bigfatbimbo]

How about dragging a sleepy Lucifer away from his work? As he insists that he just needs "5 more minutes" as his eyes are closed and he's laying half limp in your arms. Sleepingly mumbling that he can get ready for bed himself as you wash him up and then carry him to bed.

(I imagine that he doesn't usually get taken care of like this. He's much more used to falling asleep at his work bench and waking up with a sore back and a pounding headache. Even though he's embrassed about you seeing him in a such a state, and feels a little guilty about you being "forced" to take care of him, he can't help but lean into your soft touches)

- 🎀

a/n — GOD THIS IS SUCH A CUTE PREMISE HES SUCH A WORKAHOLIC HE NEEDS TO BE TREATED LIKE THE PRINCESS HE IS <33

You had knocked on Lucifer’s already half opened door to his workshop, making it creak loudly.

You scanned the room quickly, taking in the mess. There were rubber ducks everywhere, trash on the floor, scrapped projects scattered across the various tables.

And then your eyes fell on Lucifer, head resting on his desk, looking perfectly sound asleep. You internally roll your eyes, not understanding why he does this to himself.

Causally you make your way over to Lucifer, picking up pieces of trash on the way and organizing things here and there, hoping to make the room look less chaotic.

When you finally get to the sleeping demon, your hands gently rub his back, coaxing him awake.

He groans quietly, “‘m so close to finishing just,” he yawns, “just five more minutes…”

His sentence trails off unconvincingly and you scoop him up bridal style in your arms. He nuzzles into your chest and wraps his arms around your neck to subconsciously bring you closer.

“I think you’re about ready for bed, honey,” you say sweetly, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“nonono, this is important…” he trails off before regaining his strong of thoughts, “important stuff, very important. ‘m gonna finish it tonight.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile fondly as you place him down on his bed. He continued quietly stammering about all the work he was getting done while you undress and place him in his pajamas.

Which mainly consisted of his boxers and an old t-shirt. Then, you got an old towel damp and began wiping off the dust and grime from his work table that had ended up on his face when he fell asleep.

He whined at the cold feeling of the water. You shushed him softly and, after you were satisfied with your work, you crawled into bed next to him.

Wrapping your arms around him, you heard Lucifer release a long content sigh, nuzzling his back into your stomach. He was absolutely adorable like this, being held by you.

It didn’t take long for him to fall fast asleep.

The early morning light beamed in from the window and fell on Lucifer’s face, waking him up from one of the best sleeps he’d had in a while. He took a moment to assess his situation, a warm comfy bed instead of his workbench, a loose t-shirt and—

and your arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him closer to you. He might as well have slapped himself on the forehead right then.

Not only did he not get any work done, he had made you take care of him in the process. How humiliating.

You stirred behind him, “Good morning, baby.” You place a kiss on his neck as a greeting.

He was silent for a moment.

“You— you didn’t have to do that,” he spoke quietly, ashamed of himself.

It took a moment for you to remember what exactly he was referring to.

”No, I didn’t,” you say, unslinging your arms from around him. He silently mourned the loss of contact.

“But I wanted too,” you caress his cheek with your thumb. “I want to see you well rested, Luci. That’s why I took care of you. Simply because I wanted too.”

Once again, he had to pause before he spoke. This time, however, it was because he felt tears well up in his eyes and he didn’t want to cry in front of you. Not after giving you all that trouble.

“I just don’t understand why you would want to,” he said simply, looking down.

You sat up and paused, trying to think of the best way to go about the situation.

In one simple motion you lunged for him, both of your hands resting in his jawline and you peppered him with kisses all over his face.

“What are you—“ he couldn’t help but smile, “What are you doing, y/n, oh my goodness!” He giggled loudly as you assaulted him with your lips.

“I just,” you said as you placed multiply kisses on his cheek, “think your,” more on his nose, “amazing.”

You finish on his lips, a peck and first and then a deeper tender kiss.

When you finally pull away he looked dazed, “Well it’s, um, it’s hard to argue with that, my love.” A small giggle escaped his lips one last time.

You leaned back on the bed and opened your arms to him, inviting him in.

This time, he launched himself towards you with no protests.

Only slightly teary eyes as he buried his head into your chest and sank into your arms.

[beforeimdeceased]

hey bae! if you’re still taking requests could i please have something fluffy with mean! ellie and sensitive/soft! reader. it can be whatever u want, loving the pink theme btw 🎀⭐️!

CRYBABY! - (E.W)

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had a seriously bad day, and now you’re stuck with the shittiest person you’ve ever met while you wait for your friends to get home.

a/n: thank u for acknowledging the theme! it took so long to put together 😭. also i really hope this fulfills your request. would you guys want a part 2 w/ smut this time?

“crybaby, crybaby. we need to cry. and if we do, i know that would be alright.” — edit

masterlist.

ellie fucking williams was an exceptional singer, guitarist, and had incredible stage presence. but more importantly: she was an asshole. a complete fucking dick, and not just the usual “too good for everyone” cocky. she was crude. she was vulgar and she knew exactly how to push people, you specifically. sometimes you thought that she walked around asking for a fight to prove herself to people. now, you think it’s so she can finally feel something. even if it’s a mind spinning jab at her face.

you did your best to stay away from her, despite you sharing friends; jesse and dina. you knew exactly how she was and you knew you couldn’t handle it. no matter how many times you tried to let her little remarks brush past you, you always found yourself wanting to go lower. and each time you were around her it got harder to bite your tongue.

today was a bad day. a shit day. one of your worst. you found fraudulent activity on your bank card, got hit with a frustratingly large and urgent bill, and your washing machine broke. all in the span of an hour. the customers at your job had been extra rude and to make matters worse, your manager yelled at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

all you wanted to do was go over to dina & jesse’s and eat brownies while they treated you like the child they’d yet to have. dina rubbing your back and reassuring you that everything will be okay while jesse threatens to beat all your enemies bloody. you use the spare key you have to their apartment to messily trudge in, kicking your shoes off at the door and smiling as you open the fridge to find dina’s special 1,000 hour brownies.

“i keep telling her she should put weed in those.” echoes behind you, causing you to pause mid bite. there she is, leaning against the counter. eyes smudged with her signature stage eyeliner, sweat glistening on her skin, a tank top and her stage cargos sagging on her waist. gargling down a plastic water bottle that had definitely seen better days.

“where are dina and jesse?” you furrow your brows closing the fridge. you grab a napkin to place the brownie on, and move further back near the door away from her. just in case.

“they went to go grab some groceries, but they told me to stay here and wait for you.” she answers, finishing the bottle off.

fuck. how long were they going to be gone? you couldn’t imagine spending more than 2 minutes alone with this loose lipped devil. her eyes narrow as she looks you up and down before smiling. here she goes.

“bad day? cause it looks like it.”

“well it definitely isn’t going to get better with you around me.” you snap back.

“ouch. i’m hurt.” she laughs. deviously. a hand over her chest as she pushes off the counter to chuck the empty bottle into the trash can.

you move over to the living room, sitting yourself on the couch. maybe if you ignore her she’ll get bored and leave you alone? maybe she’ll get so bored she’ll actually leave. god, please get the fuck out of here.

she follows you though, sitting way too close for comfort and turning on the tv. you pull your phone out, immediately opening tumblr and mindlessly scrolling. hoping that dina and jesse will be home soon.

“d tells me you stopped showing up to gigs because of me. is that true?” she breaks the silence between you two. you shrug her off. “you’re not the easiest person to be around, williams.” you state.

“so what’s wrong with me? i’d love to hear it straight from the horses mouth.” she scoffs, scooting closer. when you attempt to ignore her she pulls your phone out of your hand. staring into your eyes with her very own. piercing through your soul for a response. “is it because i called you an idiot?”

“among other things, but it doesn’t surprise me that that’s all you remember.” you reach for your phone but she pulls it back. this causes you to pinch her, and she smacks your hand away still holding your phone back. “remind me then.”

you feel her taunting tone. her want— need to push at you. to push your buttons and boundaries until you break. it’s like a game to her, and you certainly weren’t in the mood for it today.

“can you give me my phone so i can find out when dina and jesse are coming home?” you sigh. her behavior reminded you of a customer you’d had earlier who’d treated you like garbage because you weren’t smiling. you felt tears welling up but pushed them down. you never cried in front of ellie. because of her, maybe, but never to her face. you’d never live it down.

“can you answer my question? so i can apologize or whatever. d is really on my ass about it.”

you scoff. “ofcourse you aren’t genuinely sorry. you probably don’t even remember all the fucked up shit you say and do to people. half of the time you ignore me and the other half you treat me like i’m a burden. do you remember when you guys had your first real show? i told the security i knew you and you pretended like i was a stranger.”

“jesse was sooo pissed you didn’t show up.” she laughs. “did he yell at you?”

“yeah. thought i was lying because you told him i was. called me a shit friend and a liar until i showed him proof. why am i the only one you treat like this?”

“you’re definitely not the—“ you reach for your phone again, but she’s quicker than you. pushing you away and laughing at your lockscreen, which was a picture you’d taken of yourself. one you felt incredibly confident in. all of that confidence was withering away slowly and you could guess it’d only been 10 minutes. “only one.”

“that’s so much worse. seriously, i don’t have time for this today. i’ll just go home.” you sniffle and fail to hide it. the tears were in the back of your throat and you felt like her personal rag doll all over again. what you’d finally gotten away from the last week was haunting you all over again. her taunting, her rudeness. she knew what she was doing and she didn’t even care.

“are you gonna cry? am i making you cry?”

you gulp, biting your lip to fight the shakiness in your voice. “just give it back.” is all you can muster up. her arm stretches up and as you reach for it she tucks it in her back pocket and sits on it.

you feel the tears begin to spill out of your eyes and you quickly turn around and lean into the couches arm. hands over your face as you pathetically attempt to calm yourself. you feel a hand on your shoulder and you push it away before realizing it’s ellie handing you back your phone.

it takes you a couple blinks, convinced the tears have obstructed your vision. the very same ellie who’d tripped you in front of a crowd of people last month, was being nice? her face has softened, genuine concern replacing the taunting gaze she previously had. she places a hand on your back and shushes you.

“i’m sorry. i’ve never made you cry before, i’m sorry.” she speaks softly. she almost seems…confused? is this what it takes to get her to realize that what she does actually fucking hurts you? for you to break down in front of her? for her to get a peek at the silent nights you’d spent sobbing over another one of her “jokes”? all this time?

you wipe your eyes and begin to laugh, which startles her and causes her to lean back. “you’re such an ass, ellie. god, you’re such a fucking dick.” you shake your head and breathe. she doesn’t respond, just stares at you with concern. brows furrowed as she concentrates on your body language. the way you’re leaning closer towards her.

“today was such a bad day.” you cry out in frustration, dipping your head into her lap. you just lay there, sobbing. she doesn’t move you, but instead rubs your back. shushing you. whispering that it’ll be okay, and you’d never admit it because it was coming from her, but you really needed it in that moment.

she pulled you in closer to her, turning you onto your side so she can rub her thumb across your cheek. wiping some of your tears away. you begin to cry even harder, but she doesn’t push you away. even when her pants are soaked and snotty. she lets you lay there, and cry into her.

[fairy-hub]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fluff, period cramps, suguru takes a bath with you, they all refuse to let you walk, pouty reader with Kento because I for one am emotional over tiny things during that time and kento being sweet with me would be everything, making s’mores with Satoru, full of kisses adoration and cuddles, for when you need cuddles and a bath, nap and cuddles or chocolate and cuddles

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Hi! May I request Suguru with a fem aligned reader (if u do write that but if not, gn is also ok!) who is on their monthly cycle? cramps r hell rn and I need some comfort.

Oreo: Hope this helps 🫶🏽 sorry I couldn't get this out sooner, I wanted to do more characters because I've been in the mood for some comfort too

𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Slowly peeling the covers back, gently lifting you off the bed, cradling you to his chest. “Poor Princess, I hate seeing you like this.” You grimace, furrowing your brows. “Sorry my love for moving you.” Covering your cheek in soft kisses.

He doesn't stop until you’re smiling from the sweet attack. “Got our bath ready, the warmth and water should help ease the flow.” Getting lost in his captivating tender warm chocolate eyes.

“Our bath?”

The softness of his voice soothing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't hold you when you’re cramping? I was thinking I would wash us off afterward, carry you back to bed.” Kissing his hard pec, resting your head against his warm chest, closing your eyes.

You’ve never had someone talk to you with such gentle kindness, look at you with such adoring love or tenderly touch you until Suguru. “You’re better than I deserve.”

“You deserve only the best, and I'm going to give it to you.” Carefully sitting you down on a towel covering the counter protecting you from the cold. Holding your arms up for Suguru to slip the baggy shirt off.

Lifting you off the counter, steadying you on your feet. “You are the best.”

“That’s why I’m your’s.” Pushing your underwear down, for you to step out of. Kissing above your pubic line, gently rubbing in soft circles where you’re cramping the most. After a year of living together he knows your body well.

Using paper tissues to toss your pad in the trash. Lifting you off your feet, cradling you lowering you into the warm, bubble bath. It's the perfect temperature, the water lapping at the back of your neck easing some of your head’s tension.

The bubbles reaching above your head, you have to make a small space otherwise be consumed whole. “You look beautiful and cozy.” Letting out a gentle sigh, the warmth and muscular relaxer soothing your aches.

“This is wonderful, thank you darling.” Suguru slips his sweats down, folding them up to set on the counter. Leaning forward he whips his feet off in the mat, stepping in behind. Carefully sitting down, pulling you into his lap.

Closing your eyes resting your head listening to the music. His chest rumbles when he sings, “Whatever words I say I will always love you, I will always love you, whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am free again.” Kissing the top of your head.

“Your voice sounds like heaven. I want to record you singing, I can listen to it to fall asleep when you’re working late.” Looking up at Suguru’s face, he smiling down at you.

The soft curve of his lips, the love in his eyes, this is what it’s like to be treasured by someone. “Which songs do you want me to sing for you my love?”

𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Resting on his chest, eyes closed listening to Kento’s comforting voice reading. “Traveling down the thin winding path, not yet reclaimed by the forest’s growth. Breaking into a small clearing, displaying a partly dilapidated house. Part of the original brick structure standing tall still.” He pauses to flip the page, looking down at you.

Smiling at how you’d fallen asleep on his chest. Grabbing the long thin bookmark you gotten him. Slipping it between the pages, closing the book, setting it aside.

Checking the heating pad, gently making sure it's in place. Carefully lifting the blanket over you, covering you up to your neck. Slipping his glasses off, laying his head down on the pillow behind him. Closing his eyes and enjoying the peace of the moment.

Your cramps had been persisting all morning, at last you were comfortable enough to fall asleep. He loves your soft warm body resting in top of his. The safety in knowing you’re protected, happy and at peace.

The sun has set by the time Kento wakes up. “My love?” Kissing the top of your head. Massaging your stomach and sides. “Wake up I need to get dinner started, I'll get you cozy in the bed with the heading pad.” He peels the blanket back, grabbing the now cold heading pad setting it aside.

Shifting on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck. Kento carefully fixes the blanket on yo. Wrapping his arm around you, slowly standing up. “What are you craving?”

Pouting whining in frustration, “I dunno! I'm hungry but I don't know what I want. I don't want you to leave me alone.” Cupping the back of your head, swiping his thumb in small circles. His gentle touch soothing your emotional turmoil.

“Take out it is you can look at what you want and take your time there’s no rush. I'll carrying you to and from the door to get the food.” Nudging the bedroom door open with his foot. He knows the bedroom by memory.

Carrying you with one arm, pulling the covers back, laying you down then flicks on the lamp. “We need to make sure we get you something yummy.” Kento kisses your forehead. “Lemme get your heating pad and my phone.”

Kento isn't gone long coming back into the room. He’s beautiful with his blond hair falling across his thin framed glasses. You like them more than his green and silver ones that hide the beautiful dark coffee brown shade of his warm, gentle, tired eyes.

Slipping into underneath the covers, holding his arms out for you to climb slowly onto his lap. Resting your chest on his chest craving the skin to skin.

Placing the heating pad on your stomach, grabbing the near by covers and covering you both. “Comfortiable beautiful?”

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

You have a wonderful view of Satoru in a tight black shirt splitting open firewood with a wooden axe. You’d insisted a cabin in the woods because you pouted about being around other people was a bit extreme. Now that you’re here with no one else but Satoru for miles around it’s peaceful and necessary.

The view of his arms flexing when bringing the axe through the wood catching your attention. Almost distracting you from the monthly fit your body is throwing from not getting knocked up by Satoru.

Loading the logs into the pit. He points his fingers at it, looks up at the window and smiles. Could he really spark the firepit without destroying the ground around it?

You eyes widen. There’s a flash of light and boom fire errupts from the pit. Arching towards the sky, settling down, gradually getting lower as it consumes the wooden logs.

Blowing off the his finger gun proud of himself. Then vanishing out of site as he comes into the cabin. Slipping back outside covering the bench in several blankets and the throw pillows from the sofa. The bringing out a plate with a roasting stick.

Dipping back into the house Satoru bursts into the bedroom, grinning widely. “It’s s’mores time! Cuddles, a crackling fire underneath the stars your wonderful boyfriend feeding you chocolate you might be cramping but that has to help a little right?

“Can’t think anything sweeter, other than getting some kisses from my Sugarbear.” Satoru climbs onto the bed, hovering over you carefully not to let his weight crush you. Softly kissing your nose, cheeks, forehead and lips. You can feel his smile in the gentle curve of his lips.

Wrapping your legs around him, parting your lips for his tongue. You crave Satoru’s slow, sweet romantic kisses more than air. Slipping your fingers through his short undercut into his fluffy hair.

Squeezing your sides lifting you off the bed. Refusing to break away, he’s lost in your soft lips whimpering into the kiss. Carrying you through the door, slowly sliding his hand up and down your back, cupping your ass.

Pulling away you need to breathe, resting your head on his chest. Shivering from the cool fall air, nuzzling your head into Satoru’s neck, kissing him gently.

“Your kisses are sweeter than any treat I could buy.” Satoru sits down with you straddling his lap. Picking up the roasting fork, its tip having been resting on a plate next to some marshmallow, a chocolate bar and some Graham crackers.

“Cheesy!” Leaning back enough to admire Satoru’s handsome face. Kissing his cheek.

He passes the roasting stick to his other hand. Squeezing your between his arms when he sticks a fluffy marshmellow onto it’s tip. “It’s true! The way you kiss me is so sweet and loving, it makes my heart beat faster every time. I can't stop kissing you, it's getting worse. Everytime I see you I want to cover you in kisses, hold you close and never let you go!”

Oreo creampie m.list

[ssokkasmoon]

THEY FIND OUT YOU ARE PREGNANT(modern au)~

(All characters are aged up)

Gender reveal (pt2)

After delicious dinner Sokka had helped you clean up the table. after you two finished cleaning ,he pecked your lips before retreating to the bathroom. Flipping on the light, he went about his business, washing his hands after. As the water drained, something pink caught his eye near the trash. Frowning, he leaned over for a closer look. There was a small plastic stick, with a little pink plus sign prominently displayed. His breath caught in his throat. Slowly, he picked up the test, his other hand instinctively running through his hair.

Positive.

He gasps, you were pregnant. You two were going to have a baby. Heart near bursting, Sokka dashed out of the bathroom, following the sound of your voice to the living room. You looked up in surprise from where you folded laundry. Before you could speak, He swept you into his arms and spun you around, tears now freely falling. Between joyous laughs and kisses, he managed to choke out, "We're having a baby!" Softly, Sokka cupped you cheek. "I love you," he breathed. More than he ever thought his heart capable. This moment was nothing short of perfection.

After you tell Zuko that you are pregnant, for a long moment, he goes perfectly still at your quiet confession.Slowly, he reaches out to cradle your cheek in his hand. "A baby, huh..." he finally breathes, voice barely above a rumble.

A flicker of emotion crosses his face then - part disbelief, part dawning joy, part protective instinct awakening in him at the knowledge that he had truly created new life with the woman he loves more than anything.

Without warning, he surges forward to pull you into a deep, kiss, pouring all of his swelling pride, after you two part away he whispers "We're havin' a baby, princess,"he says as he looks into your eyes "I'm gonna take care of both of ya, I swear it. Nobody's ever gonna hurt my family." Pulls you closer once more "i love you" he murmurs before kissing you.

Bolin's eyes widen in surprise as you tell him that you are pregnant. His heart races with a mix of emotions - excitement, joy, and a bit of nervousness. He wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you even closer. "Princess, that's amazing news!" he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine happiness. "I can't believe we're going to have a baby together. I'm going to be a daddy!" He peppers your face with gentle kisses, unable to contain his overflowing affection. "You're going to be the most incredible mother, and I promise I'll take care of you both.  He holds you even tighter, his excitement radiating through his touch.

After you told Aang that you are pregnant ,For a moment he was too stunned to respond. "Really?" he breathed, finally finding his voice. At your nod, the brightest smile broke across his face, all worry dissappearing.

"My love..." He cupped your cheeks tenderly with affection "We're having a baby?" He grins You mirrored his grin through watery eyes, relief washing over you at his joyful reaction. "We're having a baby," you affirmed with a teary laugh. In that moment, Aang felt his heart expand five times. he pressed his lips passionately to yours. "You've made me the happiest man alive," he breathed out ,Gathering you close, he held on you tight, placing kisses atop your head as you melted into his embrace.

Your little family was growing.

For a moment, the air seemed to leave Mako's lungs at your soft admission. His eyes searched your in stunned silence. Slowly, a smile began to spread across his face, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Really?" he breathed, unable to contain his Joy Though just as quickly, concern emerged. "Are you...happy about it?" You nodded, with a shy grin of your own,"Terrified but happy," you confessed. With a joyful laugh, Mako gathered you in his arms and held you close, "My love, this is incredible news," he said. Pulling back just enough to cup your face between his hands, He pressed a tender kiss to yout lips before releasing a shaky breath. "I'm here for you and our little bean every step of the way".

© 2024 ssokkasmoon

[zephyrchama]

We know there's cooking duty, and trash duty, and various cleaning duties that the brothers rotate who's in charge of. They take turns shopping for groceries. When MC becomes their attendant in Nightbrighter, some of these chores are foisted onto them.

Is there a laundry duty? Does MC have to do everybody's laundry? Does Asmodeus keep buying more and more outrageous underwear to leave on top of his laundry so he can tease MC?

---

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whaddya think you’re doin’?”

Mammon walked into his room and caught you red-handed with a pair of his yellow briefs. He nearly flew across the room to snatch them out of your hand.

“Uh, the laundry?” You gestured to a basket of Mammon’s dirty clothes that had been collected from all over. “This would be easier for me if you left it in one place. Getting all of your stuff every week is like a scavenger hunt.”

Mammon threw the dirty briefs over his shoulder. They landed somewhere on the opposite side of the room for you to find again later. You looked at him in exasperation while reaching for a pair of crumpled-up jeans. His face had a rosy tint.

“Why are you doing the laundry?” he demanded.

“Because it’s my job as your attendant,” you answered.

“Wh-? Like, just this week?”

“I’ve been doing your laundry for the last three months, Mammon.”

He craned his neck forward in shock and waited a beat, as if you would say psyche. It’s not that Mammon couldn’t understand you, but this was new information he did not want to process. A hand rose to his forehead, sliding upwards as he pushed in frustration. “Well... cut it out! You look like a pervert. How would you like it if I did your laundry, huh?”

That’d be nice. “Could you, please? That would be great. I don’t have a day to do my own wash, given there’s seven of you and only seven days in a week.” Chores, RAD duties, and devilsitting took up every waking moment.

Mammon sighed and ruffled his hair. He muttered, “Seven…" In an instant, his attention snapped back to you.

"Seven? You’re doin’ everyone’s laundry?” he shouted.

You were ready to pull his jacket off yourself if he wouldn't cooperate. “Yes! And I’m short on time so just give me your dirty clothes!”

--

You cracked the door open ever so slightly. Leviathan was preoccupied with a game at his desktop, the back of his chair pointed at the door. The chair shook from the intensity with which he smacked the controller. Now was the perfect time. With the goal of being as quiet as possible, you crept into Leviathan’s room and made a beeline for his laundry hamper.

“Dooooooooooon’t touch those!” The pitch of his voice rose and fell impressively as Leviathan jumped and scrambled across the tile on all fours to physically block you from the laundry. Did he see your reflection in the monitor? His headphone cord popped out of the PC, its headpiece falling down to tug at his neck, and the gaming controller clattered to the floor. Leviathan slid in between you and his laundry basket like an athlete safely sliding onto a base.

In contrast, you just stood there wide-eyed with a tub of detergent in one hand.

Leviathan stammered a few times, realizing he might have overreacted. “So, uh. You see, Mammon gave us all an earful for letting you touch our clothes,” he explained. “He clearly didn’t listen when Lucifer told us you were doing it.”

“Oh, and you knew? Good job, Levi!"

You both smiled, Leviathan chuckled bashfully at the praise.

"Now give me your laundry.”

His face fell.

“No, wait! I knew you were doing it! But… you know, I never really thought about it. And for once, I think Mammon has a point. So, please!” Leviathan pressed his hands to the floor and bowed his head to the ground. A pose he learned from anime. “I’ll do my own laundry from now on! Just don’t touch it anymore!”

“Why? I've always been careful, I check the tags on your shirts so the colors don't bleed.” All of the brothers' clothes had insanely specific washing instructions. Compared to laundering suit jackets and leather and silk, colorful graphic t-shirts were a walk in the park.

Leviathan did not budge. "That's true. Still, I have dignity that must be protected!"

---

Beelzebub goes through almost twice the amount of clothes that his brothers do due to his regular workouts. Thankfully, he helps you carry them all to the laundry room so you're not struggling alone.

Beelzebub already had everything neatly sorted into two baskets - regular clothes and workout clothes. They were all ready to go when you showed up for the weekly collection. He let you take the lighter one.

Before the two of you left the bedroom, Belphegor called out, "are you doing laundry?" His head lolled over the side of his bed.

"Yeah, do you need anything washed right now? You can put it in with mine," Beelzebub kindly offered.

Belphegor wormed to the edge of his bed and picked up an empty pillow case. "I drooled on this and stuff. Can you take care of it?"

"Sure," you said. "Pass it over."

Getting up was far too much work. Instead, Belphegor loosely balled up the pillow case. With the world's laziest throw, he tossed it in your direction. It managed to sail through the air. It smacked the side of your head and landed on your shoulder.

"Thanks," Belphegor yawned, having already turned his back to you and Beelzebub.

[babeyun]

falling alone ✩ l.hs [teaser]

✩ series m.list

✩ synopsis: cold cases were heeseung’s specialty, and he cracked every single one. cold hearts were your specialty, and you have yet to make a single chip in your husband’s.

✩ genre: established relationship au | hurt-comfort

✩ pairing: lieutenant!lhs x housewife!reader

✩ word count: 2k | [full fic: tbd]

✩ rating: 18+. minors dni.

✩ warnings: mentions of disappearances. some slightly suggestive themes between husband!hee & wife!reader (nothing explicit), uhhh that's it for now i think!

friday, 9:23pm.

"late night?"

your voice has always been a comfort to him.

the way you cooked dinner every night, the way you washed his hair for him, the way you laid in bed with him – it was all comforting. your soft eyes, eyes that had never seen an inch of a crime scene. your gentle hands, hands that would never cock a gun and aim to kill.

you were home to him, and he hated that he couldn't leave his work at the precinct. he always brought it with him, anywhere he went...anywhere you were.

"not really. caught a session with dr. bahng. i'm sorry about dinner." he loosens his tie, trying to ignore the way your eyes follow his fingers. he takes his wedding ring off for work – insisting it snags on the gloves when gathering evidence, that he never wanted to sully it with such grime. "how was your night?"

your sigh may be inward, but his eyes catch everything. every frustrated twitch of your brows, the way your nose crinkles at the half-assed apology. your eyes linger on the linoleum floor, and he fights the urge to pull you into his arms. he fights the urge to show any weakness to your feelings, because he can't let go of work. he has to be strong, he has to be coarse, he has to be cold.

"it was...fine." you wave him off, moving to take the full plates off the table. only then does heeseung notice that you're still in your jeans, your white top neatly tucked into them. your feet are clad in fresh socks, almost as if you were about to go out when he arrived. his eyes scan you as you move around, pulling his tie completely off and bunching it into his pocket. "are you going out with your friends?"

you don't reply as you scrape the cold food into the trash can, and he focuses on the sound of your bracelet lightly clinking with the handle of the fork. your shoulders sag, soft curls of your hair sweeping over your face as you move to place the dishes in the sink. he sighs, before his legs move him behind you. "why are you upset, honey?" "i'm not, i'm not upset." you scoff, turning the tap to hot when you feel heeseung's hands ghost over your waist. you knew better than to attempt to hide anything from him, especially with the way his brain was literally trained to analyze your every movement. his lips press softly to your cheek as his fingers untuck your top, "i know you better than that."

you're silent as his fingertips trace the soft skin of your stomach, his chin resting on your shoulder. he's going to wait until you decide you want to talk, despite knowing it will be the same argument you have every single week.

the same argument that always ends up unresolved as you kiss in your bed, sheets tangled between your bodies. it's enough to hold off on actually talking about it, it's enough to semi-satisfy the lack of attention you got from him during the week. it wasn't enough to feed his unvoiced, almost insatiable hunger for you, and how he wished he could just douse you in his love and affection until the sun rose. it wasn't nearly enough, because he'd still have to pry himself from the comfort of your warm embrace to step foot in the precinct and inhale the stench of evil in the world.

he felt awful, really. that he could never truly show you how much he loved you, how emotionally constipated his job made him...how his sessions with dr. bahng were no longer of much help. "leave work at work, lieutenant. you have the love of your life waiting for you at home." he had it memorized at this point.

"it's always the same thing, don't worry about it." you turn the tap off, feeling the guilt about wasting water seeping into your stomach. you weren't going to wash the dishes, you knew you weren't. you just wanted to lay down in bed with your husband, basking in the few minutes of attention he'd be able to give you before falling asleep. "baby."

you wince at the pet name, one so foreign on his lips. one you so rarely heard, long lost in your college memories. you grimace as you turn in his hold, his hands now resting on your hips. "don't baby me, heeseung."

"don't heeseung me, y/n. i know something is bothering you, and whether it's tonight, tomorrow, or next week – i'm not letting you go to bed like this." he looks at you through tousled locks, his eyes speaking for him. just talk to me.

you shake your head in subtle disbelief, attempting to push past him when he pins you against the counter gently. "let me go, heeseung."

"not until you tell me what's going on." his voice is harsh, one he also rarely uses with you. heeseung was always gentle, soft-spoken. "i've been at work all day, dealing with shit i can barely stomach. i just want to come home and spend time with you. what's wrong?" he's starting to whine, and it does nothing but make your heart ache and your eyes sting with tears.

"i just want to spend time with you, without having to beg for it." you breathe out, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid his gaze. "you remember everything, hee. i know you had to remember that tonight is date night." sighing, you peel your eyes open to a guilty husband watching you with his own tired ones.

"i'm sorry, honey. it really did slip my mind. let me...let me take a shower and we can go have a night on the town, okay?" he starts to walk away, fingers pulling at the buttons of his shirt when you clear your throat. "it's fine, heeseung. let's just go to bed." "no, let me fix this. we haven't had dinner, and we haven't spent time together in weeks." he slips his dress shirt off as he leaves your line of vision, and you just slump against the counter. he was right, and you hated that you knew he was. heeseung was always this way, though, shouldn't you be used to it by now?

yes, he was gentle and soft-spoken, with a touch of dirty humor and thoughtfulness that always made your heart race a little faster. your relationship was built on a lot of comfort and deep talks, ones that usually involved you unraveling yourself entirely just to get a taste of his own secrets. the two of you had met in college, about three days after the disappearance of his childhood best friend, cha soyoung.

heeseung was even more cold and stoic then, and wasn't interested in so much as even befriending you. he didn't really speak, which according to hs friends, was unnatural. they wound up being close friends of yours as well, thanks to park sunghoon. the seven of them also ended up working at the same precinct.

"heeseung talks...a lot. not as much as jay, but he's just going through a hard time right now." sunghoon had said as he sipped his drink, carefully chewing the tapioca pearls as the two of you walked. "it's not everyday your best friend of twenty years goes missing, you know?" you had shrugged, not really understanding what it was like. your parents had moved you around a lot as a kid, and it was hard to make friends until they finally settled when you got into your last year of high school. you had met sunghoon there, but only met the rest of your friends through him that following summer – except heeseung. he'd gone home with soyoung for the summer, returning to seoul for the fall semester at decelis university with her and your other friends. you still never spoke, until now.

you and sunghoon were swinging by his dorm to help pass out flyers.

"hey, hoon. y/n." heeseung spoke quietly as he opened the door, his eyes nearly swollen shut from crying for the past three days. your jaw dropped as you looked at his face, not at all recognizing the boy in front of you. sure, you'd only ever seen picures of heeseung but you knew enough to know that this...wasn't him. neither you nor sunghoon spoke as heeseung moved for the two of you to follow him, shutting the door behind you.

"how are you feeling?" sunghoon asked as he trashed his drink, your own now sweating on a coaster on heeseung's coffee table as the man gathered things around his dorm. you stood awkwardly as you swung your backpack onto the couch, opening it for heeseung to slide the flyers in when you saw him shake his head. "i don't feel much, actually."

sunghoon glanced at you, but your legs moved before you could think. you rounded the table to heeseung, who looked at your extended arms and empathetic eyes with cold ones. he'd set down the papers in his hands, fingers splayed across them momentarily before turning back ot you, awkwardly entering your embrace. your fingers easily found the nape of his neck, and his rigid form quickly softened as he breathed shakily into your shoulder.

"m'sorry." he mumbled as you felt a few tears soak through your shirt, and you just shook your head.

sunghoon also wound up wrapping his arms around the two of you. something about the way that heeseung's fingers clawed at your sides, and the way that he sobbed into your shoulder made you wonder how long he'd needed someone. someone to ease the knot in his stomach, someone to help him see that this was something that would be solved and everything would be okay again. someone to help him hop along until soyoung was found, and someone to leave when she inevitably took her place again.

that was six years ago.

you and heeseung began dating a year after that happened, a couple of months after the anniversary of soyoung's disappearance. the police stopped looking, ruling her case as a runaway. you and heeseung never stopped searching – you frequently asked cafe owners if you could pin missing posters on their corkboards, and even went door to door every few evenings asking if anyone had seen soyoung.

heeseung had made it to the side of the law, and often reviewed the case to see if he had missed anything. he never had – you had all hit a dead end. everyone's hope began to dwindle, but heeseung never let that sway him. he even asked the forensics department to make age-progression posters, and they did. you'd pinned those up, too.

he was strong willed, he was diligent, he was determined. you love heeseung, you love the person he is...

...but you hate that he can't leave his work at work. you hate that you get a crumb of his affection every few nights, whether it's his lips pressed against your cheek after dinner or his teeth nipping at your clavicle while hovering above you in bed. you hate that you find yourself longing for him even more than you did in college, despite now having him in the deepest way – as your husband, the person who loves you.

the man who shed a singular tear as he watched you walk down the aisle, the man who supported you when your career wasn't what you expected. the man who endlessly told you he loved you in ways that weren't so evident to the naked eye – like leaving the warm water for you and showering in the ice cold, leaving the last slice of cake for you. rubbing your feet while watching law and order with you on days he didn't work (read: on days you pried him out of the home office.)

heeseung loves you, you know that. you just can't shake the feeling that it won't be for much longer.

BABEYUN © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

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[ashwhowrites]

Older Eddie finding out you’re pregnant and has hard emotions over it. He’s excited but nervous because of his age and reader overhears him saying he doesn’t know if he can be a dad and you choose the ending

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Baby talk

Eddie had his dream of having a wife and kids, but it fizzled out the older he got. It never seemed to be in his cards and he found himself okay with that. He didn't feel like he was missing out on anything. He enjoyed his life the way it was.

He had been together with Y/N for about two years. He loved that she wasn't in a rush to be married. She was young and had many years before she felt like her time was cutting short.

Y/N knew Eddie didn't have a plan in mind for having kids, and it wasn't something they talked about too much. She knew at his age, that kids were the last thing on his mind. She'd be lucky to even get a ring on her finger.

As she looked at the five pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter, she feared to tell Eddie the news.

"BABE?"

She jumped into action as she heard his voice. Scrambling to throw the tests into the trash can. She washed off her hands by the time he made it into the doorway.

"Just using the bathroom, what's up?" She asked, a fake smile plastered on her face

"Home from work and was thinking about ordering pizza?"

"Sounds good,"

Eddie nodded and walked out of the room to call the pizza place. YN looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what the hell she was going to do.

~~~

It had been almost two months and she hadn't said a word. She dumped out the trash and tried to forget it.

But now she was sick every morning, and her emotions were all out of whack

She knew she needed to say something before she began to show. She was scared and she hated that it was her own secret. She had all this on her shoulders and needed to share the weight.

"You okay? You barely ate your dinner," Eddie said, he sat across her at the restaurant. Couples talking all around them but they sat in silence. He watched her as she slowly picked at her food. He knew something was going on. She always looked tired, he'd hear her cry all throughout the day and he spent every morning holding her hair back.

"Would you ever want kids?" She asked, finally looking up

Eddie coughed as he was caught off guard

"Um, I don't know. I guess if I'm being honest, I would live perfectly fine without them." He shrugged, "But if it was something you wanted, I'd make it work."

"Make it work?" Y/N scoffed, "What just suffer and stick around because you got trapped?"

Eddie blinked at her aggression

"I didn't say that" Eddie deflected, "I just think if it happened, it would take me a while to be good with that. I never saw myself as a dad and it would be a lot to learn."

"Would you be happy?" she asked, her stomach began to turn and she felt vomit in the back of her throat

"I don't know,"

"Well, figure it out within these next seven months." She said she watched as his eyes shot open and he looked down at her body and back up again

"You're pregnant?" He choked out

She bit her lip nervously as she nodded

"Dammit" Eddie whispered to himself as he sighed

"Dammit?" She snapped, "That is all you have to say!" She stood up and slammed down her napkin.

Eddie watched as she marched out of the restaurant. He quickly threw as much cash as he had on the table and followed after her.

~

The car ride was silent. Every word that left Eddie's lips was ignored. She had her arms crossed as hot anger tears rolled down her face.

Eddie pulled into his driveway and she was fast to get out of the car.

"Baby, can we please talk?" He asked once they made it through the front door

"Sleep on the couch, asshole." She spat as she yanked off her heels and walked down the hallway.

~

Y/N wasn't sure how long she stared at the wall in silence but she knew it had been a while

She closed her eyes when she heard the bedroom door open.

Eddie slowly lifted up the sheets and crawled into the bed

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you" he whispered, he wrapped his arms around her body and pressed her into his chest. "I was caught off guard and surprised. I thought we were always safe."

"Not safe enough," she snapped. She wanted to stay mad but his arms and lips kissing up and down her neck made her melt

"I'm going to be right here the whole time. You're not alone. We will do this together."

She rolled over, tears in her eyes as she tried to find his eyes in the dark

"Good because I am really scared," she cried

"It'll be okay." He soothed, leaned in, and pecked her lips

~~~

"Here is your beer, love," Y/N said as she placed the beer on the small table

It had been a crazy few months. She was now eight months and they were preparing for their baby to arrive.

"Thank you," he said as he pecked her cheek. Then turned his attention back to painting the wall

"I think this color looks great," Y/N smiled as she rubbed her bump. The light blue brightened up the nursery in the perfect way.

"I agree. The crib and changing table will be delivered tomorrow so Wayne will be over to help out. You just stay in bed and relax." Eddie said as he set down his paintbrush and grabbed his beer.

~

Y/N sat in her bed as she watched TV. Wayne and Eddie were down a few doors putting together the last few touches of the nursery.

She sighed as she grew restless, she needed to move. She climbed out of bed as fast as she could. Then walked out to the kitchen, she figured she could make lunch for the boys.

She finished the sandwiches and grabbed some beers. With her hands full, she walked to the room. But she stopped when she heard the two in a heated discussion.

"You are not walking out on her or that baby, Eddie," Wayne's voice was aggressive and stern. Y/N felt her heart drop at the thought.

"I didn't say that! I'm just fucking terrified. I'm too old to be starting over in my life. A newborn? That is a ton of work, and even more for someone who is as old as me." Eddie sighed

"I don't give a shit what age you are. Teenager, her age, or your age, doesn't matter, you are having a baby. I'm sure she's scared. And I'm sure she has been scared since she found out. She needs someone to count on, and you need to be that person. Having a kid will always be scary."

"I know! But what about when he starts school? I'm going to drop him off and be older than every dad there. I'll be a grandpa age by the time he gets into college. I don't know if I can be a dad."

"Edward quit making this about you! Who cares if you are older than the other dads. You've got an advantage. You've been working for years, probably a better income than they have. You have benefits that you can support her and your child with. You already made a fuss when she told you, don't make another scene." Wayne lectured

Eddie sat in silence and Y/N took the cue to walk in

"Lunch is served" she announced as she walked in. Acting like she didn't hear a single word.

"Thank you, dear," Wayne said as he pecked her head

"You didn't have to, you are supposed to be in bed," Eddie said as he pecked her cheek.

"I needed to move my legs," Y/N shrugged, "can I talk to you for a second?"

Eddie nodded and followed her into their bedroom

"Everything okay?" he asked as he softly touched her stomach

"Do you want to be a dad or not? Because it seemed like we figured it out and we were on the right track. And if you don't want him, you don't get me. I want this and I want us to be a family. But if you don't want that, be a man and tell me so I can figure out what I'm going to do for my child." She ranted, her arms crossed as she panted. She tried to keep her tears back.

Eddie sighed and sat on the bed. He grabbed her hand and moved her to stand between his legs. He released her hand to place both on her stomach and looked up at her

"He's our child. I am not walking away from you or him, and I never will. I know I'm all over the place, but I do want this. I'm worried about my age and how that might affect me being a good dad. I just don't want to let him down and I don't want you to regret having this magical moment with me and not someone who has a better grip on things." Eddie said

"Oh Eddie," she sighed then placed her hands on his cheeks. "You won't let him down. All you have to do is love and support him, which I know you can do. I don't want anyone else. I want this baby with you. I know you can do this. I believe in you." She leaned down and pecked his lips.

"I love you," he said against her lips

"I love you too"

And she was right. The second their baby was born, Eddie became the best dad she had ever seen. He adored Gavin, and Gavin was glued to his dad's hip. They were best friends and Y/N couldn't have been happier.

Eddie's fear never went away, but he treasured every moment he had with his family. He became a dad and he conquered it. Next, he was ready to conquer being a husband.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

[kenananamin]

Baby please (negative, be positive)

Let me break our hearts for a bit. I think we’ve all seen the other side of this where Nanami is… very excited for the process of children, if you catch my drift lol but what about the other side? What about when there’s a large amount of negative tests followed by fertility issues, and the partner feels every single overwhelming emotion about their body and their struggle? Note: If you have struggled or are struggling with fertility, this may not be for you. I have other fluffier/cute/positive posts and so many great accounts have amazing stories, so take care of yourself and maybe read those instead. I’ll immediately follow this up with a cuter post <3 If you know anyone who may be struggling, be the help they may need and start by simply listening. I am aware from experiences with close family and friends that fertility issues do not always have a happy ending, but this fictional story will end as a hopeful one. If you decide to read this, thank you. If not, I’ll see you on the next post babes 🖤 Warnings and tags: nanami kento x fem!reader, fertility issues, sad, angst, comforting nanami, hopeful and happy ending ~3.0k words

You lay in bed in a fetal position in the darkness of your home. You curled your body as much as you could as you let the tears fall. You were tired of the loud sobbing and your body and throat could not handle another sob. But the tears did not stop. You felt a wet spot underneath your head and you shift your head forward to avoid the cold spot. When you finally think that the tears are running out, you hear Nanami’s car pulling into the driveway. You drag the bed throw to cover yourself and wipe the new tears. You weren’t scared of Nanami’s reaction, he had held and taken care of you after the past tests, but you were scared of any underlying disappointment.

“God, I’m trying. I’m trying, I’m trying,” you let out one last sob before Nanami enters the house.

You hear the key enter the lock and you quickly wipe your tears and cover most of your face with the blanket. You hear his every movement and you can almost see exactly what he’s doing as he moves around the house.

It was not uncommon for Nanami to come home to a dark house. He knew you were a napper and he actually enjoyed waking you up after making dinner. Something about your sleepy eyes while eating dinner and sighing after each delicious bite made his heart flutter. One of the smaller things you did that he absolutely adored. He turns on the hallway light and peeks into the bedroom to see you in bed in the dark. The house feels colder than usual so Nanami turns on the heater and heads into the room to put a thicker blanket on you. He rubs and kisses your hair before heading out and closing the bedroom door enough to only leave a sliver opened.

Nanami grabs extra clothes from the laundry room to change before heading to the kitchen to start dinner.

As Nanami quickly glances into the trash after throwing out veggie scraps, he notices the familiar blue box and the tips of two sticks peeking out. He feels his heart stop for a second, but reaches for a napkin before digging into the can to move the box to read it. Another pregnancy test. Nanami reaches for the test sticks and immediately sees one single line on the first and one bold ‘Not Pregnant’ on the second. His heart rate speeds up and he immediately wants to run to you but he’s reminded of your devastation the last time you got a negative. He had never seen you so upset and had to convince you to let him call your manager as your emergency contact to let them know you would be out for the next couple days. Nanami puts the sticks back and covers the tests and box with the napkin and vegetable scraps. He turns off the stove and washes his hands before heading back to the room.

Without the hallway light on, you could not tell if the door was fully opened or closed. You didn’t care either way, you just wanted to be in the dark and not face Nanami yet. You moved the blankets over your head again to return to your safe space. You begin to take slow deep breaths, slow inhale, slow exhale. Slow inhale, slow exhale. Slow inhale, slow exhale. It is not the quietest breathing exercise so you cannot hear Nanami slowly open the door and walk into the room. He sees the familiar sight, a bundle shaped like you with the blankets moving to the sound of your breathing. He softly puts a knee on the bed before crawling over to you. The movement on the bed stopped your breathing completely and you hoped, no -- you prayed, that you didn’t forget to cover the tests.

“My love,” Nanami says just above a whisper before softly wrapping himself around you, while making sure he does not burst your bubble within the safety of your blanket. He feels your body shudder once his arms are completely wrapped around you and gives you a moment to calm down. Once he feels your breathing even out again, he taps on the blanket and asks if he could come in. You loosen the grasp on the blanket and he slips underneath to hug you from behind.

You thought you had finally run out of tears, but feeling Nanami’s arms around you and his scent so close for the first time that evening, you felt them gather again. Thank the heavens that it was dark and he was not facing you because you felt your face contort in a terribly painful way followed by the loudest sobs to have ever left your body. Nanami pulls you in unbelievably close, as close as he would when your anxiety left you shaking and desperate. You start writhing in what feels like emotional agony and he pushes his entire body weight to your back, pinning you down. It was something he had learned to do after years of being together. You would jokingly call Nanami your human weighted blanket but you were thankful that he could detect when you needed to feel him.

“Two years, Ken, two fucking years,” you let out between sobs, “why can’t I do it, Ken? Why can’t I--” Your words cut short.

“Shh shh, no no no, baby, please. Not you, I’m sorry, please don’t think that. We can do it, there’s more we can do,” Nanami rubs your arms and kisses your neck and shoulders, “Please, I promise there’s more. It’s ok, it’ll be ok. We’ll be ok.”

Nanami wasn’t sure what he was saying, and to be honest, he knew he would say anything that could help you. But what would? He didn’t know what exactly to say after so many negatives. On the other hand, you weren’t exactly sure what you wanted to hear after so many negatives.

Time flew by underneath that blanket. Nanami had eventually moved the blanket down to let you breathe cool air after a layer of sweat covered you. He ran his fingers through your hair to try to cool you down and shushed and hummed against your skin while he still held you. You could feel your back and his front wet with both of your sweat and the spot underneath your head drenched with a much larger spot of your tears.

You don’t know what time it is and you don’t even have the energy to tilt your head up to look at the clock. All you know is that you have finally stopped sobbing and there really was nothing left inside you. 

Nanami moves the hair from the nape of your neck and plants the softest kiss. “Let’s take a break.”

You turn in his arms, eyes wide and thinking, a break? From this… from us?

He could see the gears turning and panic in your eyes before hugging you again from your side and saying, “No no, baby not that break. Never. Never never, I promise. I mean from the tests. Let’s stop buying and taking any tests. Let’s toss any extra ones around the house, too.”

Your heart knew that Nanami adored you and would not leave you, but your foggy brain that was convincing you that you were not enough left you thinking he would leave. The thought lasted a second, but the panic was unbearable.

You shift to face Nanami and tightly hug him. So tight. He felt as if you were hugging him in fear of him running away. He knew of "men" that would leave their partners after fertility issues and he detested every single one of those disgusting beings that dared take space as a bag of bones roaming the earth. He could never leave you, especially for something nobody had any control of. He loved you, adored you, and with or without certain possibilities, he wanted to be there with you.

Nanami planned to see your crows feet and smile lines deepen. He wanted to retire as soon as you both could and travel to see everything together. He wanted to look at your joined hands and notice the sun spots and new wrinkles. He wanted to see your entire face wrinkle and your steps become slower. He wanted to dance with you in the middle of the kitchen and feel your heartbeat match his. He wanted it all and he needed to remind you, even if it wasn’t with words at that exact moment. Nanami hugs you back like he had before in response to your own bone-crunching embrace.

You feel defeated, but loved by the man that said ‘I do’ to you and promised everything for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, and in sickness and in health. You finally nod to his request.

———

You wake up early that morning with the driest throat and what feels like the world’s puffiest eyes. You look at the clock: 4:52am. Nanami is beside you, but you see he fell asleep in a sitting position against his pillows with his laptop on his lap. You feel a small towel beside your head and reach up to feel a folded cold towel. Nanami would always put a cold towel over your eyes if you fell asleep crying. The cold towel didn’t happen often, but it seemed like he always knew what to do even if he didn’t have the words to help at that moment. Your clothes had been changed to a large shirt that you had stolen from Nanami when you lived separately, but he let you keep.

You sit up to remove the laptop from his lap and gently lean him down to bed. As he’s shifting his body, the touch pad is slightly moved and his laptop is turned back on. You turn your head to avoid your sensitive eyes looking at the bright light and turn down the brightness. You look at the screen to decide if you should just close the laptop or shut it down. The tabs… the tabs surprise you and your heart breaks the more tabs you read.

How to deal with fertility issues

How to help sad wife

How to distract sad partner

What is egg retrieval surgery

Adoption process

Recommended income for adoption

Malaysian vacation homes for rent

Best time to vacation in Malaysia

Along with the searches, Nanami had a note opened with notes from every single tab.

The man sleeping next to you… loves you. You would do anything for him and he would scour the world and pick up brick by brick for an answer to any of your problems. You lean down to kiss his temple, “I love you, Kento. So fucking much.”

———

Seven months later, you get curious and tell Nanami to bring a test after work. He's hesitant and asks if it’s a good idea. After several months in therapy and extra doctor visits, you feel like you can handle any result. A negative would be like facing your biggest fear and you needed to overcome it.

Nanami rereads your texts the whole afternoon, and again when he’s at the pharmacy looking for the tests, and again when he’s in line to pay. He only hands you the small box after a big hug and deep kiss, and suggests you take it after dinner in fear of you not eating after seeing the result.

After a distracted dinner, you take the tests and leave them on the bathroom counter. You walk out the restroom and sit on the bed with Nanami. He wanted to be inside the restroom with you but despite being married and knowing each other’s secrets, that was one line you just could not cross. Your husband had no other option than to wait outside the door.

Nanami turns his whole body to you and reviews the exercises your therapist had given you both to work through the next result. You intently listen and follow his lead until the timer finally goes off. You both look at each other, scared for the next event but relieved to finally hear the beeping. You stand first and hold out your hand for Nanami.

You cover the test from afar as you close the gap and tell Nanami to count to three. One… two… three. You quickly move your hand to see the two tests.

You stare and stare, and Nanami’s eyes have never gone wider. You can see him looking back and forth frantically, waiting for your reaction. You screech, not yell or scream, a straight screech that could compare to the latest dinosaur feature film. Your hands cover half your face and sobs immediately break through. Nanami hugs you and picks you up from the floor. 

“Ok ok ok, doctor, umm, we need to go to a doctor, ok? That's what he told us to do.” you nod frantically, still sobbing, and wrap your arms around your husband. 

——— 

The doctor is happy to see you in his office for a different reason this time. He confirms the result with another test at the office and for the first time in a long while, the nurses lead you and Nanami to a room with a big ultrasound machine.

Nanami tightly holds your hand as the cold clear cream is spread on your tummy. There is no visible difference that you or Nanami could see but you were both very fucking nervous despite the home and doctor’s results. The doctor takes a second to spread the cream and look around. After what seems like an eternity, the doctor confirms that you are over halfway on your first trimester and points to the smallest blob on the screen. 

Nanami’s legs give out and literally falls to the chair pulled for guests. His breath is heavy. He trusted the tests before, he really did believe those positives, but hearing it from the doctor's mouth in that room, seeing what was on the screen and where he knew you were in the best hands — his relief was unmatched. He had never felt such relief, happiness and an overwhelming sadness for what you had to go through.

He covers his mouth with one hand while he lets his tears fall for the first time in front of you since your wedding. His other hand still tightly holds your hand and he moves his forehead to touch the side of your stomach, where he knows the product of your love and effort will slowly start to make its home.

You lay on the chair with your arm folded on your face, crying loudly with the same relief and joy when Nanami stands back up and carefully moves your arm down to kiss your face. He starts at your temple and moves to your cheekbone, then nose, then eye, then forehead, other eye, lips, cheek, and temple again. He holds your head close to his chest and you wrap your remaining arm around him. After so many visits to this clinic, so many negatives and so many tears of sadness, you were finally able to cry for a completely different feeling.

You both lean to see the screen, the barely visible blob making you laugh but you lie your head back down and let yourself imagine a scene of a mini you and Nanami.

———

30 weeks, one 20 hour birth and an emergency C-section later, Kento holds your tiny girl. She had been rushed to the NICU shortly after the birth and you and Nanami were left scared in the OR. One of the nurses tells you that she is alright and they need to check her more since she was a preemie.

You wake up from a nap later that evening in your recovery room and see a shirtless Nanami holding your baby by the room window. He'd become so intrigued by the skin-to-skin contact benefits with a baby and promised himself he’d do anything for a closer bond with her.

Without him knowing you were awake and listening, you hear him tell the small bundle that is a sleeping baby girl, “b/n, you are so loved. We’re going to love you forever. I'm going to adore you for as long as I can and more.” He gently brushed her hair and continued, “I have so much to teach you, to show you. I love you, I'll give you everything, I promise." He lifted her and leaned down to kiss and stroke her cheeks, "my girl, my sweet girls — I'll do anything for you and mommy, I swear.”

You lean back smiling. Your body aches and the pain is incomparable to anything you’ve felt before, but you are happy. Whether it was in that hospital room as a new unit of three, or in your own living room relaxing with your husband alone, you would be happy.

Nanami turns around and sees you awake. He flashes the biggest smile and walks over to the bed with your sleeping newborn. “I love you, y/n.”

“Forever.”

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Task 141 + König and Alejandro

I did request this earlier (and I apologize for spamming - but had to add some things!)

How the boys react to coming from a meeting or mission to reader being in lingerie waiting on their bed or room. 😏 If you’re comfortable - could you add smut? Would love to know how they’d react heheheh… Pure filth is also very much welcomed! 🫣

Ah yes! Thanks for this request. Feel free to spam away ;) As requested, this is pure trash with like zero plot🤣

141 + König & Alejandro With Reader Suprising Them With Lingiere

Warnings: pure filth, smut, oral (f and m receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, swearing, spanking

Simon Ghost Riley-

Simon was exhausted, the day was unbearably long, and he wanted nothing more than to come home to you.

Shuffling his feet through the door, he saw that all of the lights were off in the room, indicating you must've gone to bed early. He let out a small sigh, laying his stuff down on the floor, before making his way up to your bedroom.

When he caught sight of you, his cock instantly hardened in his pants. There you were, sprawled out on the bed in the nicest lingerie set he's ever seen. It was a red lacy set (his favorite color) and had a stunning matching garter. He walked toward you, his exhaustion now long forgotten. "Fucking look at you, sweetheart."

You bit your lip as you watched him approach, running your hand along your fabric covered heat. "You like? Thought I'd surprise you."

"Oh I fucking love, sweetheart." He quickly discarded his shirt, and crawled toward you on the bed. He sat and admired the set awhile longer, burning the image into his head, before he leaned down and placed an open mouth kiss to your clothed heat.

You let out a small whimper, your hands going to his head as he smirked. "You want my mouth, baby?"

You nodded feverishly and cried out when he pushed the fabric aside just enough to give his mouth access to your now soaked cunt.

He slipped his tongue between your folds and inhaled deeply. It never took long for him to get pussy drunk off you, as he buried his face into your core, lapping at your arousal like a starved man. His tongue stroked up and down your folds, making obscene noises as he went.

He looked up to you, and saw a euphoric sight. Your eyes were closed, face scrunched up slightly as you pawed at him. That, mixed with the sight of the lingerie on you had his brain working overtime, as he continued his assault on your cunt.

He added one of his slender fingers to your hole, and began to pump it in and out in rhythm with his tongue, which was now flicking wildly at your clit. You started to feel the coil in your belly tighten and dug your nails into his shoulder blades. He gave your clit a light nip, causing you to scream out as your orgasm tore through you.

He stayed between your thighs for some time, cleaning up your mess with a heavy sigh, his tongue stroking at your folds lazily.

When he got his fill, he pulled his head away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Removing his pants, he then moved up to you, grabbed the undersides of your thighs, and pushed your legs next to your head.

He gave you a small kiss before ramming himself into you, burying his cock completely within your walls. His hands gripped the head board above him, giving him a better angle to begin pounding into you at full force.

The way his cock stretched you out had you seeing stars. He was the biggest you'd ever been with, and my God did he know what he was doing with it. Each thrust of his hips had him burying himself to the hilt, hitting that sweet spot inside your walls every time.

He moved one of his hands to your thigh, hooking one of his fingers underneath the garter there and began to tug, his pace not relenting. Feeling himself growing close to his own release, his thrusts started to grow erratic as he chased his high. He gave another tug to the straps, as he felt his orgasm wash through him, stopping his movements when the straps tore in half in his hands.

You looked up at your boyfriend, a fucked out smile on your face. "You ruined my lingere."

Simon chuckled as he pulled out, breathing heavily. "I'll buy a new set for you, eh? Can't promise I won't ruin that one, too."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

"Lass, have you seen my...oh my god." Johnny had come barging into your shared room, trying to find his phone when he caught sight of you. You were wearing a new set of pink lingerie that hugged you in all the right places. You turned from the mirror you were looking at, and gave Johnny a sultry smile.

"Phones right here, I was just filling up your camera roll." You handed him his phone, to which he threw to the bed beside him.

He grabbed your waist and lifted you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. "You look fucking divine, bonnie."

He threw you on the bed and nearly came in his pants as he got a better look of the set. "I need to fuck you in this, right now."

He tore off his shirt and leaned down to place soft kisses along your curves. You moaned at the contact, throwing your head back to the pillow behind you. Johnny could've stayed like this for hours, pressing kisses into your exposed flesh. You started to grow restless, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, flipping the two of you over, so now you were on top. You gave a sly smirk before placing your own kisses down his chiseled torso, stopping at his pants to rip them off in one stroke.

Putting your legs on either side of his waist, you slowly made your way up to his cock, grinding yourself on his member. He let out a small whimper as his hands dug into the flesh of your thighs. "Please, please fuck me, wanna watch you get off in that outfit."

You whined at his words but did as he asked. You pulled the soaked fabric aside, and slid yourself down onto his cock. The two of you cried out at the contact, and Soap's hands were now bruising your thighs from how hard he was gripping. "So fucking tight."

You started to circle your hips slowly, watching as Johnny struggled to keep his eyes open. His hands moved from your thighs to grasp at your covered tits, palming at the material roughly.

You moaned at the contact as you started to bounce up and down on his cock. Johnny began babbling, you felt so good around him that his eyes were begging to be closed, but he wanted to watch you fuck him in that set so badly.

You raked your nails down his chest and watched as red streaks began to litter his skin in its wake. You picked up your pace, now bouncing wildly on him, and started to feel your orgasm approaching. It never took you long to cum with Johnny, something you were beyond thankful for.

Leaning backward slightly, you laid your hands on his thighs behind you and continued your movements, as sweat started to form on your brow. Johnny nearly drooled at the sight before him, you looked so fucking good on top of him, taking him as well as you were.

"Fuck, lass I'm so close. Please don't stop." Johnny begged as he squeezed at your hips.

You gave a low moan as your movements started to grow sloppy and desperate. With one final motion of your hips, your orgasm coarsed through you, as your walls clenched down on Johnny, triggering his own release.

You collapsed down onto him, in a sweaty mess, as his hands came up to stroke your back softly. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, before he looked up at you with a smile.

"May I request a photo of my own?" He asked, before grabbing the phone next to your bed. "Just a little one, for whenever I'm on the road."

John Price-

"Love? You almost ready to go?" You heard your husband's voice call from outside your shared room.

"Yeah, in a minute. Can you come help me with my buttons?" You asked, a mischievous smile working its way to your face. You and Price were to go and see a movie together with some friends, but you had other plans.

He made his way into your room, stopping abruptly in the doorway when his eyes fell on your figure on the bed. "Bloody hell, what's that you got on there?"

"It's a present." You bit your lip and started to massage at the fabric covering your tits. You were wearing a new green lingere set you'd just recently bought at the mall, and it fit your figure perfectly. Price felt his cock hardening in his pants at the sight of you.

John moved to remove his belt, his eyes never leaving your form. "That so?"

"Does daddy like?" You asked, licking your lips in anticipation. John came over once he'd undressed himself, and dragged you to the end of the bed.

"You're about to find out." He promised, turning you over so your ass was facing him. He bent down for just a moment, to bite into the flesh of your ass cheek, before smoothing it over with his hand.

You cried out and lurched forward, causing your ass to stick higher up in the air. Price chuckled to himself and let his hands palm at the flesh of your ass.

He rubbed the tip of his cock at your sopping folds, before pushing himself into you. The grip he had on your hip was brusing, as he begun to slam his cock into you at a brutal base, not giving you a moment to adjust.

Your fingers gripped the sheets in front of you, desperately trying to ground yourself. You cried out a soft whine as Price landed a slap to your ass. "S-So good, daddy. So good."

"That's fucking right princess. You look so good in this, couldn't help myself." He cooed, moving his hands to your hair for a makeshift ponytail, tugging it back toward him with a firm grip.

You felt his thrusts start to grow languid, as he neared his high. You knew what would help him get off faster, so you started to push your hips back in time with his thrusts. Price groaned loudly as his grip on your hair tightened. "Fuck baby girl that's it, I'm so close."

After a few final lazy thrusts, you felt your lover's cock twitch inside of you, covering your walls with his hot cum. He pulled out slowly once he'd caught his breath and pressed a gentle kiss on your back.

"Since you were such a good girl for me, why don't you roll on your back and spread your legs. Let Daddy take care of you."

"But we have plans for the movies, babe." You teased, running your hand along your abdomen.

"Fuck the movies."

König-

"Hey, Ko, can you come here? I wanted to show you something." You called out, admiring your form in the mirror before you. You'd just bought a new lingiere set at the store and were excited to show your boyfriend. It was a blue sheer set, leaving little to the imagination.

König made his way to your room before nearly fainting at the sight of you. He stood dumbfounded for a moment as drool started to pool in his mouth. He was left speechless and hardly knew what to say.

He shook his head and started walking toward you, effectively backing you up against the wall behind you. "You look so fucking divine, Maus."

He put his hands on either side of your head and let his eyes rake down your figure. He felt his cock harden almost painfully in his trousers and moved forward to grind himself against you.

He lifted you up in one motion, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. He pressed a bruising kiss to your mouth, swiping his tongue against yours. You moved your hands to the waist band of his pants, undoing his belt and pushing down his garments, leaving him bare to you.

You were quick to line his hard member up with your entrance, and sank down onto him, your walls hugging his length in a vice like grip.

He grunted out loudly into your mouth, as your kiss became more heated, a clash of tongue and teeth. He bucked his hips up into you, fucking you senseless.

You gasped out, grapping onto his shoulders for support as he fucked up into you. "Fuck, Kö. You feel so good."

König grunted in response, as let his eyes rake down your body once more, landing in between your bodies watching your pussy swallowing him whole.

You raked your nails along his back as he picked up his pace, your other hand flying in his sweaty hair to steady yourself. The sounds emitting from your lover are what drew you closer to your release. He was whimpering softly, soft german curse words escaping his lips. It never took much to make this man putty in your hands.

He continued to buck his hips up into you, as one of his hands made in way in between you two, and his calloused fingers started to circle your clit, rubbing at the soft bundle of nerves with vigor.

You cried out, throwing your head back onto the wall behind you, your legs tightening their hold around your lover's midsection. His pace didn't relent, and your orgasm rapidly took over you, as you clenched your soaked walls around his cock.

König groaned, still desperately chasing his high with his rapid thrusts, before his own orgasm tore through him. His cock pulsed inside you, painting your walls white with his seed.

The two of you pulled away breathless, and König looked at you, admiration in his eyes. "You look so damn good, Schatz. Can I have another?"

And who were you to say no? Not when he asked so nicely.

Alejandro-

"Fuck me, te ves jodidamente increíble." (you look fucking incredible) Alejandro breathed out, as his eyes landed on you, sitting at the edge of your bed in the new set of lingierie you had.

"You think, baby? Didn't know if you'd like it." You teased, flopping on your back and spreading your legs to reveal more of the set to your lover.

"Surely, you're joking. It makes you look delicious, hermosa." A smirk formed on his lips as he let his eyes rake over your body. "Let me show you, yeah?"

You nodded your head slowly as he climbed over you, capturing your lips in a firey kiss. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, then moved to bite at the flesh softly.

He laid down on top of you, gently putting his hand under your back to slide you up to the pillow. He pressed loving kisses along your jaw, trailing to your collarbone as he hovered over you. "Eres magnifica, hermosa."

You gave a content sigh at the affection and moved your hands to the hem of his shirt. "May I?"

He gave a soft chuckle and lifted himself off you, just long enough to remove all his garments. He returned his lips to your neck, sucking at the flesh there, leaving small bruises along your skin.

He moved his hand to your core, inserting his finger into you at a slow pace. You moaned, throwing your head back onto the pillow behind you. "Ready for me, my sweet girl?"

You nodded your head with a small smile, and he came to press a soft kiss on your lips. Nuzzling his face in your neck, he slowly pushed himself into you, groaning as your walls squeezed around him.

He started moving at a languid pace, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping his length. You moaned as he returned his mouth to your skin, now creating small love bites in the flesh of your shoulder blades.

Alejandro was a passionate lover, never too rough, but never too soft either. He always knew the perfect ways to make you come undone beneath him.

He captured your lips in his once more and sped up his thrusts, pounding into you feverishly. You felt the coil in your belly tighten as your orgasm rapidly approached, your fingers digging crescent marks into your lover's back.

Alejandro let out a small grunt, and his thrusts started to become sloppy as he neared his own release. The coil in your belly snapped, causing you to arch your back up into Alejandro, your tight walls convulsing against his cock. He let out a strangled moan as he was pushed to the edge. He slowly continued to push in and out of your core, allowing you to milk his cock for everything he had, before collapsing on the bed beside you.

"You are so good to me, mi amor. I love you." He declared softly, as he placed a delicate kiss to your sweaty brow.

Now, knowing how your boyfriend reacted to lingerie, you made it a point to wear it around him more often.

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

A/N: I'm so sorry for this🥹😭

Update: I just realized I'm a turd and completely forgot to add Gaz, I will update this shortly🫣😅

[luveline]

kisses before dinner — steve comes home to his girls after a long day. 2k, mom!reader

Steve has a back ache twinging between his shoulders that takes his breath away as he treks the last step up to the front door. The door gets caught on the latch when he pushes it open, which is awesome, Steve’s so glad you’re being safe late at night, but deplorable in that he has wood grain etched into his jaw and no way inside. 

“Girls?” He knocks the glass pane. “Anybody home?” 

Everyone should be home. Your car is in the driveway, the girls’ shoes are by the wall. He pushes the door open as far as he can (not far) and weasels his face into the gap to look for you. It’s dark besides the upstairs bathroom light. 

Steve calls your name a few times, but eventually comes to the realisation that you’re all asleep and he’s locked out. He closes the door and heads back to his car to scrounge the spare back door key from under his seat. 

He fights through the garden gate covered in brambles to the backyard. It hasn’t been touched since summer, forgotten things left to the elements. Avery’s bike flakes with copper coloured rust against the wall. The trampoline net is tangled and fallen off of one side. There are plastic cups in the stinging nettles growing back beneath it and gummy bears swollen with water along the paving stones like some poor retelling of Hansel and Gretel. He unlocks the back door and promptly knocks over the trash can he’d left in front of it. His back whines as he cleans it away, but at least it’s warm inside. 

It’s good to be home. 

He shoves the toppled garbage back into the can, washes tomato sauce off of his hands in the sink, and lets himself bask in his own poorly lit company for a moment, rubbing his tired eyes. He was hoping for a welcome party. It took longer to help Robin move than they’d anticipated. 

“I won’t be back for a while,” he’d said apologetically down the phone. 

“Okie dokie,” you’d crooned. He didn’t need to see you to know there was a baby in your lap. “Just come home when you can, babe. And lift with your knees! I’ll put your plate in the fridge, yes? Love you.” Your voice turned to sugar. “Love you, love you, love you, honey.” You definitely weren’t talking to him at that point. Mother of my kids, he’d thought reverently, the strength of a thousand men restored for an hour or two before the fatigue truly set in and he and Robin considered leaving the rest of her furniture on her new front lawn.

He scratches his hair from his eyes with both hands. Mother of my kids, he thinks again. You’ve actually managed to keep the kitchen tidy, the only evidence of a day of play being the grape juice rings on the dining table placemats. How the fuck you’ve done it is a miracle worth marvelling. Three children, one (admittedly smaller) baby bump, and a full eighteen hours by yourself. You’re very impressive. 

He decides to tell you emphatically with his face in your neck. He should shower, and he will apologise to you for subjecting you to his sweaty hair in the morning. You’ll shrug off his apology, say something sweet about for better or worse or maybe wrinkle your nose and kiss him anyways. 

Steve honestly can’t find any shame about how much he likes you. Like and love can begin to diverge in a marriage, especially after kids when your duty as parents is more important than it is as partners, but you’ve yet to let him pull away, and he won’t give you a reason to. He’ll keep trying as hard as possible to be a husband you can adore. And you don’t have to do much, really. Realistically you give the majority of yourself every day to Steve and your kids, but he would cling to you if you got sick of it. He knows he would. You could turn hermit and live under the bed, and Steve would spend half his life on his stomach just looking at you.

Half trying to pull you out again. The other half getting the girls ready for school. He’s so tired he doesn’t realise that this is too many halves. 

When he gets to the top of the stairs he feels like a lifetime has passed since he left that morning, bright and early at 5AM. There’d been driving, car swaps, booing at people from behind the wheel, a hundred boxes, a million trips up and down the stairs, and a suspicious washing machine recalibration. This was without the cold coke drinking, peanuts, popcorn, mistimed movie references, and the obligatory insulting of Robin’s girlfriend’s mauve chaise, of which Robin refused to participate. 

Between all that, there’d been worrying, and a want for more phone calls. Promise me you’ll call me if you need anything at all, he’d said that morning, giving your face a fond caress. There’s a confidence that comes with this much love. Steve can pour every inch of his affection for you into one touch and knows you’ll soak it up like a sponge. Really. Any problems, any stress, any tantrums. Just call me. I’m ten minutes away. 

You were grateful if amused, telling him he didn’t need to worry so much, and then offering him another slice of toast. 

Is it weird how much I love my wife? he wonders, pushing open the bedroom door gently. 

You’re actually awake! He’s shocked and a little betrayed to find you looking at him, but the betrayal fades when he notices the swelling around your eyes and your trembling arm as you hoist yourself up under Avery’s weight. He’s woken you up coming in. 

“Sorry,” he mouths, frowning at your shakiness. 

You manage a smile and beckon him forward. The problem is the little ladies strewn about in the way. Avery drools on your chest while Dove takes up the entirety of Steve’s side, spread into a star shape, and Bethie snores loudly by your knees. An especially aggressive one makes him laugh as he rounds the bed to your side. 

“Hello,” he whispers, taking your face into a loving hand, “sorry I’m back so late.” 

You smile into his palm but don’t say anything. 

“You okay? Had a good day?” he asks.

You hum something nonsensical. He wipes at your cheek in the rough way you enjoy, your face bumped with every stroke of his thumb.

“Did you…”  Your eyelashes flutter closed. “Did you eat?” 

“Loads. Sorry. I’ll eat my dinner tomorrow.”

You wrinkle your nose. He’s been dying to see it. “Don’t bother, it wasn’t my best.”

“All dinners are your best.” 

You cover his hand with yours, and then you steal it away from your cheek and kiss it all over. Steve bends down to hug you.

“Missed you,” you say at the same time. Steve laughs. “Was it a long day?” you ask. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” 

“It was aeons,” you say. “The girls were good, mostly. Baby not so much.” 

“Aw, no,” he croons softly, “what’s she been doing?” 

“She won’t let me eat.” 

Steve rubs the top of your arm. “I’m sorry, honey. You should’ve called me.” 

“What are you gonna do, H?”

He breathes out into the side of your face. “You’re right, like always. What can I do?” 

He can’t do a thing to ease your morning sickness, so… Steve ends up taking a knee on the bed beside you to hold you for a while, no rush to lay down even though he aches in strings and shouts. “I’m glad I can’t get pregnant. I’d have hundreds of your babies if I could and it would be torture.” 

You laugh at his absurdity in the giggly startled way he’d been hoping for. 

“Did you throw up?” he asks, pulling away enough to see your face while his hand starts the soft journey down your front to your bump. You’re about three months along and the bump came quickly. It’s cute and Steve loves it and he tries not to be weird about it but he’s weird about you. 

“No, just kept churning. I made eggs for breakfast and we can’t eat them anymore.” 

Steve kisses your cheek, the corner of your eye, knowing it’ll make you happy. Your smile follows swiftly after, and he kisses that with gusto. “I don’t even like eggs,” he mumbles.

“You love eggs.” 

“What was it like being the stay at home mom today?” he asks. 

“Hard. But fun. Avery was being really nice to me all day, did you have something to do with that?” 

“Avery’s always nice.” 

Your smile widens impossibly, “Yeah, but she was asking me if I wanted to sit down and if I needed a glass of water all day.” 

Steve shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like something I’d do.” 

“Well don’t do it again, H. She’s just a baby. She doesn’t need to worry about me.” 

Steve strokes your forehead, totally in your orbit. “She’s not worrying. Are you worrying about her when you take care of her? And sometimes you need a reminder.” 

You chew it over. “Okay… you’re right. You win that one, Harrington. Mostly ‘cos I’m too tired.”

Steve always wins when he gets to slide into bed next to you. You push yourself over and bunch the kids up tighter. There’s not quite enough room for him. He feels as though he’s one little legged kick from falling back out, but he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around you and Avery where she’s sliding off of you and onto the mattress between you both. The poor girl is in a deep sleep, dribbling from the corner of her mouth. Steve wipes it away. 

“You comfortable enough?” he asks. 

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking.” 

He rests his head against yours on the pillows. “Missed you.” 

“But you had fun, right?” 

“It was great. I feel like I ran a marathon.” 

“Exhausted?” you ask. 

“And accomplished… You sure you’re okay? It was a long day by yourself. That stunt you pulled in the kitchen? Incredible.” 

“I thought you’d like that. I told the girls you’d buy them a pony.” 

“You did not.” 

You laugh into his cheek. “No, I didn't, you caught me… I’m fine, really. I did miss you. It’s not nice, not seeing you. I’m used to a couple of hours, but it started feeling wrong when it was dark out, I… it’s silly but I was thinking about how horrible it would be if you never came back–”

Your pitch lifts up as Steve gasps and slaps a hand over your mouth (doesn’t slap, but covers, big hand on your lips and pressing them shut without sympathy). 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He meets your eyes, smiling hard despite the fatigue clinging to you both, and doesn’t buckle, even as you kiss his palm again. “Pregnancy brain is a scary thing.” 

Your eyes turn to melting. He’s putty immediately, pulling your hand away to caress your cheek. 

“Wanna be crazy in love in the morning?” he asks gently. You put your arm behind Avery’s back and smile as she snuggles into your ribs. Steve kisses your nose. “Go to sleep, honey. I can feel how tired you are. Back to normal in the morning.” 

“Love you, Steve.” 

“Love you, too.”

[azzo0]

Infinite Memories

Summary: It's Katsuki's 25th birthday. After celebrating and cleaning up, you take him on a trip down memory lane.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader

Contains: established relationship, implied childhood friends to lovers, reader takes a bath with bakugo but nothing nsfw, foofy foofy fluff

wc: 1.2k

Katsuki made sure everyone at the party knew he was forced to be here and didn't like this shit at all, but you knew that was far from the truth. Standing with a glass of wine in your hand, you couldn't help but grin at him as he sat with his friends, Sero's arm slung around his shoulders. He was smiling unawares. He was totally enjoying this. 

Everyone had agreed to hold Katsuki's birthday party at his parents' house, given they had an enormous backyard. Mitsuki had cooked an amazing dinner while you and Mina decorated the backyard, leaving the boys to get the cake. It was supposed to be a surprise for Katsuki, but of course, he had to go and say he already remembered it was his birthday. It was just like him. You couldn't count the number of birthdays you tried to surprise him. He even acted like he was confused, but you knew better.

After the party, you and Katsuki stayed back to help with cleaning up. You dumped the plastic plates in a trash bag and then helped Mitsuki wash the dishes while the birthday boy removed the decorations in the back. 

"Are you sure you guys don't want to stay?" Mitsuki asked one last time as you two stood in the doorway. 

"No, ma," Katsuki said, "It's been a long night. Gonna go home and sleep."

"You can do that here, too," Mitsuki insisted.

"We won't fit in my old bed, you know that too," he sighed. 

"Alright, then. Good night." Mitsuki pulled you in a hug and gave Bakugo's cheek a smooch despite his protests. 

As soon as you entered the apartment, you took off your heels, kept the food Mitsuki had packed for you and joined Katsuki in the bathroom. He stood shirtless in the bathroom, brushing his teeth as the bathtub filled with warm water. You stood in front of him, grabbing a wipe to remove the makeup from your face. He rinsed his mouth and took the wipe from you, tilting your face towards him as he gently cleaned your face. 

You guys undressed, stepping into the shower cubicle, big enough for two. Katsuki sat on the step stool, and you shampooed his hair for him, followed by cleaning his back while he scrubbed the rest of his body. He did the same for you afterwards, massaging your shower products into your hair and washing your back while whispering sweet nothings in your ear, planting an occasional kiss to your neck. 

You joined him in the tub after that, your head on top of his chest while his fingers brushed through your wet hair, his eyes closed, "Did you enjoy the party, 'Suki?"

"A little," he replied. You could feel his voice reverberate in his chest. 

"Just a little?"

"Very little," he opened his eyes, looking at you with a smile, which told you he did enjoy the party. You shifted to kiss him, working your way around his jaw and onto his face. He caught your lips in a lazy kiss, his hand tracing up and down your spine. It was getting very late, and Katsuki had to go to work in the morning. 

In the bedroom, he sat on the bed as you did his skin care for him, patting serums and moisturisers onto his skin. He crawled under the covers once you were done, resting his head against the headboard as he watched you do your skincare in front of the mirror. You caught his eye in the mirror and glanced back, "Don't go to sleep. There's something I want to give you, birthday boy."

"Okay," he replied, his crimson gaze following you as you left the room. He fought to stay awake as his eyes slowly shut. 

"You're falling asleep," your voice brought him back to his senses. 

"I'm not," he retorted. 

You smiled and sat beside him, slipping under the blanket. You handed him a photo album. He took it from you, looking down at it. It had a beige leather cover with a heart engraved on the front. Inside the heart was a word in italics: Us. 

He opened the album and was greeted by a picture of him and you as toddlers, only two years old. A smile danced on his lips as he looked down at the picture. You were crying in it because he had snipped one of your pigtails while he sat on the floor with a pair of scissors, a gleeful grin on his face. Under the picture, written in your handwriting was, 'I'm not sure which one of the adults left you alone with a scissor, but I'm still mad you cut off my cutesy hair.'

"Heh, I was a fucking hair stylist!" Bakugo exclaimed, all his sleep gone. 

"Hair stylist, my ass. You just cut off a huge section of my hair." 

He turned the page to see more baby pictures of you two, with a picture of you guys standing in your elementary school uniforms on the next page. You were grinning at the camera while Bakugo pouted, looking like he'd stab someone with the stick in his hand. He found your commentary under the pictures hilarious, 'My boyfie does not like school.'

The album brought back so many special memories he had with you. His fingers stopped over a page with a picture of you wearing a crown made of different flowers while he stood beside you, little ears dusting pink, 'He decided to marry me when we were six.'

"Where did you get that picture from?" He groaned, running a hand down his face in embarrassment, "I don't even remember anyone taking a picture of us!"

"Well, my father had it," You smiled, glancing up at him. He still blushed like he did when he was six. 

He flipped through each page with you, smiling at the wholesome ones and scoffing at the embarrassing ones, each turn of the page a reminder of the constant and unwavering support you gave him to this day. In this album you made him, he took a trip through his middle and high school days he spent with you. You also put a picture of him receiving his award for making it to the top two, 'Proud of you, Dyanamight- your #1 fan.'

There was a picture of your guys' engagement and wedding. He shook his head and laughed at them, blinking away the tears that were starting to form. How far he had come with you. The last picture was a fresh one. It was from the party. He was looking at you as you stuffed your mouth with the cake, 'Happy 25th birthday, Katsuki.' Mitsuki was the one hopping around with a polaroid camera. He was sure you got it from her.

"Thank you, y/n," he said, looking to his side to see you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, your mouth ajar. 

His hand searched for his phone under the pillow. He opened the camera app, switching to the front camera. He snapped a picture and stared at it for the longest time. It was beautiful, with the bedside lamps casting a golden hue around you two. He found it adorable how your cheek was mushed on his shoulder with your mouth open. He'd get it printed on his way to work and put it in the album. 

He'd slowly stick more pictures in it over time. When pages would run out, he'd add more pages because he still had infinite memories waiting to be made with you.  

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Hi, how are you? Hope everything's peachy. I've been waiting for your requests to be open since probably December. I figured, maybe I could leave you my thoughts and you'll decide what to do with them. Is that fine? 😅 You can throw it straight to the trash if you'd like.

So that now every F1 Team have a girl driver in F1 Academy, I thought maybe they want to promote the Academy more and includes it in DTS series. So the reader is a driver for Ferrari. They assign her to Carlos and they've to film a Training camp before the season. Carlos sort of being her PT. Plot twist: they HATE each other. But their combined fury can easily catch on fire and lead them to other type of sport, more sensual one. So it's like enemies but/to lovers sort of thing. A lot of arguing, angst but also a bunch of steamy sex

The Uphill Battle || CS55

Warnings: Smut, angst, name calling WC: 1.8k

Pre-season Training - Dolomites This had to be the worst PR disaster in the making. Whoever thought it would be a great idea to pair you up with Jr Sainz needed to fall right off this mountainside. To make matters worse, they had a TV crew following you around all day and you were fairly sure your suite was bugged like Big Brother.

“Hurry up, I want to make it back in time for dinner,” Carlos growled as he stopped to look back at you. 

You narrowed your eyes, not that he could see them beneath the snow goggles, and sarcastically replied, “Oh no, baby boy can’t go to bed without his supper.”

He stabbed his sticks into the snow and pulled his googles up over his beanie. “You think I want to be out here babysitting a spoiled little brat? I am crawling just so you don’t get left behind and lost up here. Pick. Up. The. Pace.”

“Fuck you,” you spat as you pushed harder, your calves protesting the hardship you were putting them through to prove a point. You overtook the Spaniard and made sure to only just miss his foot from the piercing pike on your ski stick. “Keep up, Junior.”

You were both panting by the time you arrived back at the luxury accommodation in the resort town at the base of the mountain. You were starving but you were also damp with sweat beneath the layers of cashmere and feather-stuffed coats so you went straight to the private pool. You figured after the whining Carlos had done about his dinner you wouldn’t be disturbed in the heated outdoor pool, but you were wrong.

Carlos curled a brow at the trail of clothes that led from the twin penthouse suites to the rooftop pool they shared, each layer getting thinner until it ended with a sports bra and panties. Snow littered the ground and he shivered in his bathrobe as he watched you float on the surface of the steaming water with your eyes closed. You looked relaxed, peaceful. It was a look he rarely saw on your face and it immediately washed away when you opened your eyes and caught him watching.

“Dirty perv,” you hissed as you slipped back beneath the water up to your neck and covered your breasts. 

“I’m not the one going for a skinny dip. You’re just looking for attention.”

“I don’t have to look for attention, it comes looking for me,” you said as you eyed up the goosebumps on his legs below the robe. “I figured you were too busy stuffing your face.”

“The Netflix crew were in the dining hall,” he admitted quietly.

“Ah, so you are not nearly as comfortable in front of them as you act. Could have fooled me.”

“I don’t think that would be hard.”

“I hope your balls get frostbite.”

Carlos winced at the idea and took a step closer to the water's edge and the warmth it promised. 

“If you get in here with me we are going to have a problem,” you warned, swimming closer to defend your territory. “There’s no cameras around to keep you safe.”

Carlo snickered and dipped his foot in. “I’ve seen your training in the ring, I think I can handle it.”

“Brave words when you are all the way over there.”

Your blood could have heated the water to boiling point as he slipped his robe off and tossed it over the rail before taking another step in, then another. You watched the water disappear over his skin tight trunks and darken the happy trail before rising over his abs. The team at Ferrari at least assigned you someone who was taking their PT position seriously, you could see from his physique that he kept his own routine solid and you could learn a thing or two - if he wasn’t such an asshole.

“Take a picture, malcriada,” he said with a wink when your eyes finally reached his face.

“Such a shame,” you murmured wistfully.

“What?”

You dragged your eyes back over his body before sighing. “That a body that fine has a personality like yours.”

A wave splashed over you as he dove into the water and you lost sight of him in the dark. You should have put the underwater lights on but hadn’t wanted to light the water up when you hadn’t bothered to even change into a bikini. 

A large hand grabbed your ankle and you barely had time to inhale a breath before you were pulled under. Just as quickly as he grabbed you, he was gone again and you spluttered to the surface, wiping the water from your eyes. “Asshole!” 

“Is that the best you can do?” he laughed from the edge he was leisurely reclining against. 

“Come here and find out.”

He slipped beneath the water but this time you were prepared and met him halfway. Your bodies collided, twisting and turning trying to fathom some kind of dominance until your legs wrapped around his waist and he sank to the bottom with you on top. His hands found your thighs and dug into the soft skin until your lips parted with a sudden thought and the last of your air bubbled to the surface. 

“Not the attack I was expecting,” he taunted as he rose to the surface behind you. The water falling from his hair cooled as it dropped to your shoulder and his hand traced the curve of your neck. “Someone plays dirty.”

“I’m not playing.” Your voice wasn’t the cold detached sound you had hoped it would be, but a needy sigh. Your legs pressed together and you were suddenly reminded of how very naked you were. 

“Is that another invitation? You almost won that time.”

You turned around with a glare to find his smirk growing as wide as his pupils as he looked down at your body. “It’s not a fair fight anyway. I am naked and vulnerable.”

He chuckled at that. “I don’t think anyone could mistake you as vulnerable, malcriada, not with that prickly attitude and sharp tongue. But, if it would make you feel better about losing again…” his hands brushed over his hips and pushed his trunks down his thighs before he tossed them out of the pool. “Happy now?”

“I’m certainly something,” you murmured before realising you spoke aloud. Anger flushed your body again at the distraction he caused and you shoved your hand across the surface, spraying him in the face with the water. His momentary surprise was only that, momentary, and he leapt into your personal space with his own attack.

You weren’t quite sure how it happened, or how it started. Maybe the tension that had been brimming all week finally reached its breaking point and it was a mutual decision. One moment you were writhing to escape from his attack, your hands trying to find purchase on his body as you wriggled in his arms, the next you were writhing for an entirely different reason. 

His chest brushed over your sensitive peaks and your nails scraped down his back. Your legs tightened around his waist and felt the large length pressed between your stomachs. Your heads broke the surface but the gasp had nothing to do with the need for air when his palms squeezed your ass to hold you still. 

“What are you doing?” you moaned as you clit pressed to his shaft and every little movement rode you over the rigid veins. 

“I’m not doing anything,” he rasped, his voice dropping as he felt the heat of your core on him. “I’m trying to not fuck you right now.”

“Right, because you hate me,” you laughed humorlessly as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp but you both moaned at the feeling.

“No, because you hate me.”

It had been a while since you last had sex, that was the excuse you gave for being so needy and wanting to be filled right at that moment. “I can hate you and still want to fuck.”

Carlos stared into your eyes and saw the desire in them, felt the desire that had your nipples hard and begging for his mouth. “Fuck it,” he decided aloud. “I can hate you and still make you come.”

“Bold words.”

He didn’t give you a response, at least not in words. His strong hands lifted you higher and pulled you back down on his cock. Your teeth clamped around the muscle where his shoulder met his neck and he groaned at the pain and your muffled cry. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.”

“You’re too big,” you whispered as he slowly speared you down his shaft until you looked down your body expecting to see a bugle at your belly button. Easing you back up, he set a slow rhythm as your body adjusted to his size and walked you both to the edge of the pool.

“You can take it,” he promised as your legs untangled from around him and you found yourself facing the mountain you had climbed earlier. His hips snapped forward and buried himself back in you from behind and your cry echoed out into the night. “That’s it, make an avalanche, malcriada.”

You didn’t care that he called you brat. You didn’t care if you brought the mountain down on the whole town. You only cared about reaching your own high and you chased it with your hips, pushing back to meet him stroke for stroke. Waves rippled out across the water and soon turned to splashes as your core tightened and those ripples began to make their way down your spine.

“I can feel you shaking,” he teased in your ear, his hand snaking over your hip to find your clit. “Let go, dulce, let me feel you come.”

Your eyes slammed shut as waves of pleasure rocked through you and his name tumbled from your lips, betraying yourself with the reverent tone it held. His pleasure grew at the sound and he slammed himself as deep as he could in your cunt, letting your tight walls milk him as he came. There should have been anger at the idea of being filled with his seed, but you took delight in the liquid warmth pooling inside you. You had made him come undone, it was a win of sorts in your mind.

Satisfied for the moment, you pushed his body back and walked up the steps, into the biting cold night. Carlos was still high from his release and he didn't realise until it was too late. You were already halfway to the suites when he noticed his robe was missing, a quick scan of the snow confirmed his trunks had found the same fate.

“Brat!” he called out as you disappeared inside.

“Asshole.”

Click here for part two.

[spicyspiders]

could i request a bottom male reader whom uses that trending pheromone perfume to seduce miguel, and because his (miguel’s) power comes from him splicing his dna w a spider’s he goes absolutely crazy for it? won’t leave reader alone which leads to smut? love your works and would understand if you’re not feeling this <3

Thank you! I've never heard of that perfume, but I hope this story did it justice.

If anyone asked, you did your best to try and keep your room clean and tidy. You were okay with small piles, but those messes were always quick to overwhelm you so you would try and keep your space clean. 

This could mean that there were times that you had difficulty finding certain things in your room if they were lost in those piles. If it could be difficult for you, you couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be for someone unfamiliar with your space. 

That’s why it confused you to come into your room to see Miguel throwing things around, obviously looking for something. 

“Miguel?” You asked and watched as his back stiffened. 

He turned to face you in a flash, frustration evident by not only his stiff posture, but the intense look in his red eyes.  “What’re you doing?”

“What am I doing? I should be asking what you are doing, because it looks like you’re trashing my room!”

Somehow even quicker than he had turned to face you, he had your body pressed up against the door, holding you by the arms in a tight grip. 

“Do you know what you’ve been doing to me?” Miguel asked, a wild look in his eyes. He leaned down and dragged his nose up the column of your neck. 

You knew Miguel wasn’t necessarily a vampire, but it felt like that rumor was always spreading at least every few months. You knew it wasn’t true, it was just a silly rumor after all, but right now, you were beginning to second guess. 

“I thought it was the injections at first, but then when I would take another dosage, I learned that you had locked me in this cycle,” Miguel said, pulling his face from your neck when he was done talking. Up close, you could see that his red eyes were nearly black, his pupils nearly swallowing up all of the color. 

“Cycle? What’re you talking about?” You questioned, trying to loosen your way out of his grip. 

Miguel’s fingers only tightened around your arms, his claws digging into the skin, “your smell,” he growled. “I nearly wore down the soles of my suit trying to track down where it was coming from. 

“It’s the cologne I bought,” you tried again to wrestle out of his grip, but your efforts were in vain, “I can go wash it off-”

Miguel cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours in a heated kiss. The hot press of his lips catches you off guard, making you gasp, which gives Miguel the perfect opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth. 

“I’m going to fuck you, and then I’m going to fuck you in the shower until that cologne is gone from your skin.”

You nod quickly, feeling a small shiver go through your body at the dark look that falls over Miguel’s face. “The only thing you’re going to smell like is me. Like you’re mine.” Miguel says, his fingers finding the zipper of your suit all too easily. 

Once Miguel has the top half of your suit joining one of the piles on your floor, his hands are running a warm path over the skin. His fingers find your nipples to tug and tease until they’re hard and sensitive. 

You let out a whine when one of his claws gets dangerously close to one of the nubs. Fortunately, Miguel’s fingers leave so they can continue their path down your body. 

When you’re down to your underwear, Miguel still hasn’t shed any of his suit. It’s something that you try to open your mouth and protest about, but you find yourself with his lips on top of yours, halting whatever you were going to say. 

Miguel’s tongue finds yours as it licks into your mouth. It maps over the space, from the roof of your mouth to your back teeth. He breaks the kiss after backing you up until the back of your knees meets the edge of your mattress. 

Flat on your back on your bed, Miguel still isn’t naked, but you’re down to your underwear, your hard cock straining against the fabric. Your mind goes blank when Miguel makes his way between your legs and grinds his hips down, and you can feel that Miguel is just as hard as you are. 

You gasp into his mouth when he presses his lips to yours again, this time you bring a hand to his hair so you can hold him steady and push your tongue past his lips. Just from looking at them, you knew his fangs were sharp, so you take extra care when running your tongue over them. The action makes Miguel whimper, the noise going straight to your cock. 

Your eyes fly open when sharp claws find their way to the last article of clothing you have on and shred the material enough that they can join the pile your suit made. You always found yourself throwing something away from the piles when you would finally clean your room, and this time, the underwear would join whatever else you would throw away. 

With your neck craned over to look at once was the underwear you just had on, Miguel took that time to kiss and nip with his lips and teeth at the sensitive skin of your neck. He made sure to soothe over the skin his teeth went over afterward, no doubt leaving a mark that you both knew would heal quickly. 

When you turned your head back to face Miguel, the sight of his naked body was what greeted you. His suit left both little to the imagination as well as a craving for more. There was no doubt that Miguel was attractive both in and out of his suit. What once covered his broad frame was now all gone, leaving you with the difficult choice of when you wanted to put your hands first. 

Your hand left his hair, leaving it messy as your hands made the short path down until your reached his broad shoulders. The skin underneath your fingers was warm, making a comfortably warm path down his arms. The valley of his abs was one you hoped to find yourself familiar with as you went there next. Starting from the hairs below his belly button, you made your way up his chest. 

Just like he did with you, you tease at his nipples. Whereas he only used his fingers, you had your tongue and teeth to the mix. You nip at one bud before running your tongue over the hardened skin. Once you’ve moved on to the other, Miguel is panting, and when you pull back and open your eyes, you see his have gone half-lidded and dark from the pleasure. 

“Tell me you’ve got lube,” Miguel groans, grinding his hips down so your hard naked cocks can rub together. 

It’s one of the things you knew the exact spot of in your room. You don’t want to move away, but you knew the few seconds of distance would all be worth it. 

Your stomach jumps in anticipation and fear when one of his lubed-up fingers makes its way between your cheeks when you come back to the mattress. Thankfully, his nails are now smooth, perfect to get you ready. 

You don’t know how many kisses are exchanged as he prepares you. They vary in intensity based on what you need. When one of his fingers brushes against your prostate, the kiss that accompanies it is wet and messy. When a second and third join to get you open, Miguel showers your face in soft kisses as you occasionally let out little noises of discomfort from the thickness of his fingers. 

“Please,” you beg over the noise of his three fingers pumping in and out wetly. You aren’t really sure what you’re begging for, but you’re pretty sure it could be an end to the intense pleasure he’s giving you. For Miguel to finally push you over into orgasm with his fingers. Or it could be for his cock, the sight of it you’ve caught glimpses of ever since his suit was gone. 

Just the sight of it was intimidating, but you still let out a punched out noise when Miguel nearly folded your body in half so he could rub the head of his wet cock against your hole. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist tightly, digging your heels into his back to try and spur him on. Your head fell back onto the bed when he finally pushed inside, Miguel’s hips falling forward until he was all the way inside.

You felt impossibly full, the thickness and length of his cock carving out a space deep within your body. 

You raised your head from the bed, feeling sweat drip down your neck. Miguel’s tongue followed the bead of moisture, panting wetly against the heated skin of your neck. He tried to kiss you, but all you could give back was drawn-out moans that he chased with his tongue.  

Opening your eyes after the kiss was done, Miguel watched you with an expression full of lust, his red eyes nearly black. Strands of his hair stuck to his forehead from sweat, sweat that was threatening to cause the grip of your legs to loosen from his hips.

When your legs began to actually fall, Miguel caught your legs, holding you down to the bed with a tight grip on your thighs. He kept his eyes on your face, watching as your expression morphed from discomfort to bliss as he pulled out and began a steady pace. 

Holding you down, Miguel thrust forward, again and again, your noises of pleasure being pulled from your body as his cock nailed your prostate. His heavy balls smacked against your skin, the noise of the motion filling the room as your sweaty skin made contact over and over. 

Your cock leaked against your stomach, making a messy puddle of sweat and precum. Your body felt tight like a bowstring, like your cock was ready to spill and coat the rest of your stomach with your cum. You knew you were close, not only from that feeling, but also the physical sensation in your gut, a warmth that was steadily spreading as your orgasm approached. 

“Gonna pump you so full, everyone will know what we’ve done. You’ll fucking reek of me, of my cum.” Miguel said, his voice gruff and deep, full of an intensity that you knew only he could deliver. 

The words sent you over orgasm, your back arching off the bed. Over and over the aftershocks ran through your body, sending sparks of pleasure from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. 

Afterward, you could only lay there as Miguel used you for his pleasure. He held you in a bruising grip to create the perfect channel for his cock to fuck into. It was almost too much, stars of overstimulation bursting behind your eyes when he finally came after a few stuttered thrusts. 

You knew the ache in your body wouldn’t last, but you still couldn’t help the whimper that came from your throat when Miguel let your legs go. He maneuvered you around until his softening cock could slip free and he was able to wrap his body around yours. 

“You’re throwing that cologne away after I fuck you in the shower when we wake up,” Miguel said, and though he was tired, his voice was still full of the command that you were used to. 

“Maybe I should keep it know what it-”

Miguel runs his sharp fangs over the back of your neck, his claws once again making their presence known where his arms are wrapped around your waist. The prick of them cut off your words, but you can’t help the snicker that comes out. 

Nearly on the edge of sleep, Miguel pulls you out, “did you buy it on purpose?”

You let out a yawn before responding, “I wasn’t trying to seduce you, Miguel, I just liked the way it smelled,” you said, hoping that he wasn’t able to hear how your heartbeat stuttered from the lie.