#I would get it and then they’d leave again and tell me to ask them if I need anything else

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Forgive Me | John Price x Reader

Summary: After a rough day, Price gets home and accidentally raises his voice at you, leading to plenty of apologies, and making up for his mistake.

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

Warnings: price yelling at reader :( angst to fluff to a lil bit of smut, fingering, cuddling, cute snuggly kisses, nothing too bad

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: this was such a cute request from anon, I love price so much…like he’s such a cutiepie y’all don’t even get it, hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

You and your husband didn’t have many arguments.

Sure, the occasional little squabble where you’d only last maybe an hour before breaking and both apologizing to each other, acknowledging your wrongs.

The emotional maturity that both of you shared was something John Price appreciated most about your relationship.

But tonight was different.

He couldn’t even remember what had started the argument.

He’d already been wound up, having driven hours from the base to home after a long day of dealing with annoying recruits while his patience ran thin with their antics and horseplay. It had been a bit entertaining the first few times, but by the 40th time, it was plain annoying.

But they didn’t seem to understand that.

So he’d spent his day yelling at them till his voice was hoarse, some refusing to stop and just continuing what they’d been doing if they were ballsy enough.

And he supposed that instead of reverting into the normal John Price, the Price that was softer and gentler with you, he hadn’t seen the difference between you and those recruits in the moment.

One sarcastic remark, and you were both in the living room, Price pacing around leaving a trail on the floor while ranting in a loud, brusque voice all too similar to a yell. He got so caught up in himself, in his angry tirade of frustration with his day and the current situation, that he hadn’t noticed how he was asking until you muttered a meek little,

“John, you’re scaring me.”

It had floored him completely. Nearly all thoughts shut down at that one little sentence as he stopped pacing, standing stiller than a statue, eyes now observing your red-rimmed eyes brimmed with tears, or the quiet sniffles you were making, trying to hide them as well. He could tell.

Guilt punched him in the gut harder than any enemy had ever done.

He’d never grown up in a bad family, per se. It was just traditional. His father ranted while his mother kept her mouth shut, listening patiently and serving his every need. He could still remember how angry his father had been at his older sister when she’d snuck out with a boy. How his father had screamed at her in the kitchen while she’d sobbed, his mother doing nothing but sitting silently at the table, like a ghost.

He’d been terrified at the time. Promised himself and his future spouse that he would never treat a woman, his woman, that way.

And here he was. Doing the same thing.

“Love,”

He cooed apologetically, eyes crinkling in the corners from worry, brows furrowing as he held both his hands out towards you, watching as your bottom lip wobbled a bit when you took a little step back.

You were afraid.

Of him.

He’d be an idiot to think you wouldn’t have a bit of fear after what he’d done, screaming at you, a small woman, being the large man he was. Of course, you’d be afraid.

“I’m sorry, bird, please.”

He tried again, tone taking on a hint more desperation as he offered you at least a hand. Tears fell freely in streams down your face now, clumping in your lashes and catching in the corners of your lips.

Only when the first sob tore through your body, did you finally relent and fold into his warm, strong arms. His familiar musk, a mix of whiskey, barbecue, and a campfire, enveloped your senses as you buried your head in his shoulder. His hand stroked up and down your back soothingly, large palm gently massaging the tension out unknowingly, while his other hand ran through your hair.

“I know, I was being a right ass, wasn’ I?”

He murmured, the hand in your hair moving to your knees as he gently bent them while picking you up bridal style, your weight barely even noticeable to him as his feet padded against the floor, the door to your bedroom creaking open and promptly shutting behind him before he sat on the edge of the bed with you. The sobs shaking your already-trembling body slowly subsided, leaving you feeling emptier than before.

Now sniffling, tears hardly dried, you replied.

“Yeah, you were.”

His calloused thumb wiped whatever wetness remained on your face away. Your lips were still in a pout, one he tried to erase by gently pressing his chapped lips against yours, pulling away, his eyes gazing deep into yours.

“Really, I’m sorry. Didn’t intend to get carried away.”

He murmured, and you sniffled again before replying.

“It’s fine, I guess.”

He let out a dissatisfied hum, pulling the blankets out from underneath both of your bodies to gently cover you. He was already practically a human furnace, not needing much to warm him.

“It’s not fine, shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

His hands curled around your waist once again, holding you just a bit closer, as if wanting to keep you close. To keep you safe.

You raised a brow, relaxing into the cuddles nicely as you melted into his body, hardly noticing the way his thumbs were rubbing little circles into your hips.

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do to make it up to me, then?”

You teased, voice a bit drowsy already. He let out a small hum of thought, one warm hand slipping down your thigh, slowly making its way in between and rubbing those little circles onto your inner thigh, now.

“I’ve got an idea.”

He mumbled, his hand temporarily returning to him as he licked the pad of his thumb, leaving a bit of spit on it before returning to your inner thigh, the same hand pushing both your shorts and underwear to the side as his thumb slowly grazed through your folds, that bit of spit acting as a lubricant.

A low purr of delight from you, one that only grew more vocal as his thumb began lazy circles around your clit, not teasing or holding back, just slowly working you up until your legs were trembling, hips jerking slightly and little gasps escaping your lips.

“There you go, almost there,”

He cooed as you let a little whimper slip from between your lips, that tight coil in your stomach building and building before your orgasm washed over you like a cool breeze in the summer heat.

“Good girl…”

He murmured softly as his hand slipped out of your pants, adjusting them back into place before going back to holding your body against his, helping you back to reality from whatever clouds your sleepy mind was floating in.

“Mm…John?”

You mumbled against his shoulder, and one hand went back to stroking your hair.

“Yes, pretty?”

He questioned, ignoring the breathy little incoherent noises you kept letting out amidst words.

“I forgive you, really this time.”

An airy chuckle from your drowsy husband as he held you a little bit closer, tucking the blanket in over you as he smiled against your skin, giving your forehead a little peck before he closed his eyes, mumbling one last thing, mainly to himself, before sleep claimed him.

“Don’t know what I’d do without you, love.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Hate You (Kidding)

Crowley & daughter!reader, Sam and Dean & witch!reader, a little Rowena & granddaughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: your dad abandoned you years ago, but what happens when he finds out you’re still alive?

A/N: just so no one gets confused about this, here’s the background—Crowley found out how powerful demon/human babies can be, so he tried to make one, only it didn’t go the way he planned—the baby (you) were born without powers, and so he abandoned you. (Just because I didn’t want to give this the exact same backstory as Crowley’s son)

The theft was not going well. Your grandmother had made it seem so easy—sneak into the bunker, grab the black spell book, and make it out fast.

She failed to mention the two professional hunters that lived there.

You hadn’t been dumb enough to assume it would be empty—there had to be a reason Rowena wasn’t going herself, after all; she was scared. But you weren’t ready for Sam and Dean Winchester.

They had you in their dungeon basement—which was super creepy—before you’d even managed to find the book, much less grab it.

“What were you looking for, kid? Who sent you here?” The shorter—but no less scary—one had his hands on the sides of your chair, and he was looming over you. You had no doubt that he was willing to hurt you—you did break into his very dangerous house, after all.

You kept quiet, still unsure what the best course of action was. If you told them about the book and Rowena, would they let you go and go after her?

Then again, you didn’t know anything about these guys—maybe once they got their information, they’d just kill you.

You decided to stay quiet.

“Hey!” Dean smacked his hand on the arm of your chair, and you flinched. “I said—“

The man stopped yelling when the lights went out. They flickered back on a moment later, only this time they were red.

“Someone’s here,” the tall one said.

“I’ll go check.” The man in front of you pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans and turned to leave, saying to the tall one “watch her.”

Then it was just you and the giant—who, surprisingly, seemed a little less scary. He was definitely intimidating, but he also had a sort of “I don’t hurt children” vibe about him.

“This will all be easier if you tell us what you were after,” he broke the silence.

“Right, because you’ll have a reason to keep me alive after I tell you everything,” you scoffed.

“We won’t have a reason to kill you, either,” Sam countered.

“And you need one?” You questioned.

“What makes you think we’d just kill you for no reason?” He asked.

“I mean I did break into your house, and you are hunters.” You shrugged as best you could with your hands cuffed behind you.

“I’m Sam,” the man said, crouching down so he was more on your level—he was trying to look less intimidating, which surprised you. “That other guy is my brother Dean. We are hunters, but we’re not gonna just kill you for no reason. We’re not like that.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the door opening cut you off.

“Look who came for a visit.” Dean stepped into the room with a man trailing behind him. As soon as the man stepped into the light, every bit of air left your lungs.

“Didn’t know you had a visi—“ Crowley’s sentence froze halfway out of his mouth when he laid eyes on you.

Dean’s suspicious gaze picked up on the awkwardness instantly.

“You two know each other?”

Crowley gained his voice back first. “Used to. Not so much anymore.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” You found the strength to speak after you heard Crowley’s words. “You still look just as pathetic to me, father.”

“Father?” Dean choked. “Wait, that’s not possible.”

“I thought you were dead.” Crowley was now completely ignoring the Winchesters. “After…after that incident I figured the demons would’ve—“

“Incident?!” You all but screamed. “Incident? Is that what you call you abandoning me? Leaving me for dead? An incident?”

“I had no choice,” Crowley argued. “When the other demons found out you were powerless—“

“The other demons? It wasn’t about the other demons, it was about you! You used my mother to make yourself a half demon, and when I didn’t turn out to have any powers you threw me away. You wanted your demon friends to kill me.”

“No.” Crowley was brushing past Sam and Dean now, coming to stand directly in front of you. You squirmed in your chair, but you couldn’t get further away from him. “No I didn’t. I thought if I got rid of you, they’d have no reason to kill you and—“

“Don’t lie to me!” You cried out. “I’m not stupid! You may not have wanted me dead, but you sure didn’t abandon me to try to save me. You did it because I was useless to you. Pretending otherwise is just…it’s just pathetic.”

Crowley opened his mouth to argue, but he had nothing to say—he knew you were right.

“So you’re half demon with no powers?” Dean cut in. “Because I’ve met a half demon who could do anything he wanted just by thinking it.”

“Why do you think he wanted to make me?” You forced your gaze away from your father to look at Dean. “He wanted an all powerful being that was also fully dependent on him. Too bad for him, not all half demons are the same, and he got stuck with the powerless one.”

“But that doesn’t explain why you’re here now,” Sam cut in.

You bit your lip. You should’ve known it would circle back to this.

“Look, we’re not gonna hurt you if you tell us,” Sam promised.

“Fine.” A sly smirk lifted onto your face as your eyes went back to your father. “I’m here to get a book. For my grandmother.”

Crowley was still choking on air while Sam and Dean shared a meaningful glance before turning back to you.

“Rowena? You’re working for the witch?” Dean’s reaction told you that he both knew Rowena and probably hated her.

“She’s the only reason I’m still alive,” you said. “When he—“ you were inclined your head towards Crowley “—left me behind to get killed by demons, she saved my life.”

“My mother knows you’re still alive and she never told me?” Crowley scoffed. “It’s just like her.”

“She didn’t tell you because I told her how much I hated you.” You glared at Crowley as you spoke. “She understood the feeling, and we had a mutual understanding. Anyway, she told me she would teach me to take out demons the way she can—“

“But let me guess—only if you steal a spell book from us and bring it to her,” Dean interrupted.

“She said it was the only way she’d be able to teach me,” you defended yourself.

“She lied,” Crowley butted in. “She always lies—she was using you to get that book.”

“Oh, right, because you’re so trustworthy,” you shot back. “Why should I trust you?”

“You don’t think it’s a little strange that the first thing she does with you is send you to a place where you could get hurt, just to get something for her?” Sam argued. “You don’t think that that’s using you?”

You were quiet for a moment, and when you spoke again it was more subdued.

“I didn’t have any other choice. There are still demons out there who want me dead, and I’m totally and completely helpless.”

“You don’t have to be,” Crowley said. “I can help you.”

“Rowena may not be a saint, but I already know I can’t trust you,” you snapped. “I’m not looking to get abandoned again.”

“She had to know you’d get caught.” Sam seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone else. “So why…”

The Winchesters seemed to come to a conclusion at the same time, sharing a moment of telepathic connection before they turned and ran out the door.

“Do they do that a lot?” You wondered.

“You have no idea,” Crowley huffed. “I suppose I should find out what’s wrong.”

“You haven’t figured it out yet?” The sudden smirk on your face made Crowley nervous. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you fell for that whole ‘totally and completely helpless” thing.” As you spoke, Crowley saw a faint glow coming from your hands, which were still handcuffed behind you. After a moment, he heard a snapping sound, and suddenly both of your hands were free and you were standing up. “Do you really think Rowena sent me here with no knowledge of magic?”

With a single wave of your hand, you sent Crowley flying against the wall. He landed with a thud, and you stepped over his frame on your way out the door.

“See you soon, father.”

…

Rowena had escaped with the book by the time Sam and Dean got to the library—she had waited until everyone was in the dungeon to make her move—and by the time the boys got back to the dungeon, Crowley was on the floor and you were gone.

“Great,” Dean growled. “She tricked us. I hate witches!”

“For once,” Crowley groaned as he slowly sat up. “I agree with you.”

…

“The Winchesters.” Your nervous gaze met your grandmother’s as you watched her flip through the spell book. “It’s them, they caught up. What now?”

“We need to distract them long enough for me to get through this spell,” Rowena insisted. “I won’t even need the book anymore as long as I can get this spell done.”

“I’ll distract them.” You were halfway to the door when Rowena stopped you.

“No, you’re not strong enough, not like this.” The way your grandmother was staring you down made you nervous.

“Like this?” You asked.

The door blasting open after a swift kick from Dean Winchester seemed to make up Rowena’s mind.

“I’m sorry, dear girl, but it’s the only way,” she said. “Impetus be—“

“Not so fast, mother.” You father appeared out of nowhere just behind Rowena, and he snatched up the spell book she was holding and swung it at her—she went down without another word. “I’m the only one that gets to hurt my brat.”

You didn’t say anything—you were still shaking. “Impetus beastiarum”—that’s what Rowena had been trying to say. Your own grandmother was going to turn you into a rabid monster—and ultimately kill you—just so that she could get away.

“The book.” You flinched out of your daze when Sam Winchester brushed past you and held his hand out to your father.

“Of course, moose,” he answered. “What would I need with a witches book?” He passed it over without argument.

“Why did you save me?” You demanded, sidestepping the taller Winchester to get a good look at your father, who merely shrugged.

“I’m the only one that gets to kill you.”

…

The Winchesters, of course, wanted to grab you after the little incident, but you flung them against the wall with your powers—one of the few tricks your grandmother had managed to teach you, and currently your favorite—and left before they got the chance.

You didn’t see them or your father for several more months. When you saw Crowley again, you were running for your life.

Somehow word had gotten around that a great witch had a granddaughter; or maybe it was that the king of hell had a daughter—you didn’t know, and you didn’t care. All you knew was that an archangel was after you because of it, and you had tried to cut a deal with him.

It hadn’t worked.

Lucifer had wanted you because he thought you’d be useful, and when he found out you weren’t, he of course decided that killing you was proper punishment for wasting his time.

You were in the midst of running for your life when you saw your father.

He was chained to the floor like a dog, watching your exchange with the archangel with peaked interest.

“Conteram hoc cincinno,” you yelled as you ran—it worked, and the chains at Crowley’s wrists snapped; they were warded against demons, not witches.

The freeing of his prisoner was enough of a distraction to get Lucifer off your tail. By the time he remembered you, you were out the door, and when he tried to turn his attention back to Crowley, the demon had already teleported.

…

“What was that?”

You jumped in surprise when your father appeared next to you.

“An escape,” you huffed out.

“You saved me back there.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you demanded. Crowley just grinned at you.

“Maybe witches aren’t so bad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[sequinsmile-x]

I’d be so so keen to read something about Em coming out as bisexual to Aaron (aware you’ve had an ask for this I just want to stress the interest 🫶🏼)

It’s something I struggle with myself and the validation of being bisexual is something that’s very real. It would be lovely to read something like this as something that seems realistic for Em. The way you write is so beautiful and intricate and I know you’d do a wonderful job.

For anyone else reading this - you are valid whoever you are and whoever you choose to love <3

Happy Fridayyyyy!!!

Hi bestie <3

I've been asked to do this a few times, and as a bi girl myself it is very close to my heart. I wanted to make sure I did it justice so waited until it felt right and now really does feel like the time. It is also coming to the end of Bi Visibility week, so here we are!

This feels oddly personal, almost like I'm putting out some pages of a diary out there for people to read, so I hope this is as cathartic to read for those who wanted it as it was to write.

As always, let me know what you think, I'm nervous about this one because it feels important!

-x-

The Past is Never Far

She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it. It was, after all, not the biggest secret she had kept.

Emily and Aaron walk into an ex of hers when they are out on a date, and it prompts her to tell him something she's not told him before.

Warnings: Coming out (mentions of past bad experiences doing so)

Words: 3.2k

Read over on Ao3, or the below the cut

Emily hums contentedly as she squeezes Aaron’s hand, her eyes catching his as she looks up at him and smiles, “This is nice.” 

He smiles back, relaxed and content and handsome in the fading light as he lifts her hand to kiss her knuckles, “It is,” he replies, kissing her knuckles again before he tucks their joint hands into his coat pocket to protect them from the chill in the air, “We’re near that ice cream place you like, we could get some on the way back to the car?” 

Date night was something they’d established early on in their relationship. They had so little time just the two of them so it was important to them both to have this one night every month where they could have just that. Jack would spend the night at Jessica’s, often pouting that he wanted to come with them too, something Emily and Aaron would salve with love and assurances they’d all have breakfast together the next day, and the two of them would go to one of their favourite restaurants. The nice weather was fading, summer disappearing into Autumn. It was Emily’s favourite time of year. Not because her birthday was coming up, or because Jack and Aaron’s were too, but because of the cool air and the sun on her face. The ever-present reminder in the wind about the beauty of change as the colour of the leaves started to fade to orange and gold. 

Aaron knew she loved this time of year, so he’d been easily convinced to go on a walk with her around the block before they returned to his car and back to their apartment. She’d moved in with him and Jack recently, the apartment that was once just theirs hers now too, and they were looking for a house. A place they could buy and call home, something they both wanted so desperately and had been denied for so long. 

She smiles, leaning in so her shoulder bumps against his, “It’s too cold for ice cream.” 

Aaron chuckles and kisses her temple. He stops them on the street, the hand not linked through hers on her hip as he guides her backwards so they don’t block the sidewalk. He leans in to kiss her, “You’re the one who told me it’s never too cold for ice cream,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers once more before he removes his hand from her hip and digs through his other pocket, smiling in victory as he pulls out a pair of her gloves, “Plus, I came prepared. Your hands won’t get cold and you can still have Rocky Road - the best of both worlds.” 

She beams at him and cups his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss before she rests her forehead against his, “I love you.” 

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the corner of her mouth before he pulls back and they continue walking down the street, content and happy in each other's company. 

He buys them ice cream once they make it to the store, a double scoop of Rocky Road for her in a cone and one scoop of coffee in a tub for him. He chuckles at her as a drip of ice cream falls onto her gloves and she narrows her eyes at him, making a point of maintaining eye contact as she licks the remnants of it from the ridge of the cone, her smile wide as she watches him swallow thickly. She’s about to say something, to add to the teasing, when she hears a familiar voice behind her, one she hadn’t heard in years. 

“Emily Prentiss?” 

Her eyes go wide as she turns around, uncharacteristically caught out as she clears her throat, scrambling for something to say as she comes face to face with a piece of her past she hadn’t expected to see again, “Cat.” 

Cat chuckles as she steps forward, pulling a still shell-shocked Emily into a hug, “I thought it was you, Em,” she says, squeezing her before she steps back, “It’s been a long time. 15 years maybe?” 

“Closer to 20,” Emily laughs, the shake to it grabbing Aaron’s attention as he watches the interaction between the two women. Emily looks at him and curses herself internally for getting so flustered, “Aaron, this is Catherine Thomas, Cat, we…” she swallows thickly, her lips pressed together to keep the whole truth back, “We go way back,” she smiles as she turns to Cat, sees a spark in her eyes she hadn’t thought about in years, “Cat, this is Aaron. My boyfriend.” 

Cat smiles and holds her hand out for Aaron and he shakes it, “Lovely to meet you, Aaron.” 

“You too,” he replies, looking back and forth between the two women, curious at his girlfriend’s reaction, at the way her shoulders are slightly tight as she watches them interact. 

“Anyway,” Cat says, looking back at Emily, “My wife is just getting some ice cream. I can’t believe you still come here after all these years.” 

Emily nods, “Best ice cream in the city.” 

Cat looks up at Aaron, “Emily introduced me to this place when we first met,” she says, smiling fondly at a memory that was just theirs, “And I bring my wife and kids here now too.” 

Aaron smiles, “My son loves it here too.” 

“Cat?” 

They all turn at the sound of another woman’s voice to see her standing there with two pre-teens, both of them looking relatively irritated at being forced to spend the evening out with their parents, her expression curious as she looks at her wife. Cat nods and indicates she’ll be over in a minute before she turns back to Emily and Aaron.

“Well,” she says, “I’ve been summoned. It was good to see you, Emily. You seem well,” she hugs her again, something Emily returns, careful not to drip ice cream on her back.

“Nice to see you too, Cat,” she says, smiling as she pulls back, her gaze falling on her family behind them, “Your family is beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” Cat beams before she looks at Aaron, “Nice to meet you, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he replies. They watch as Cat walks back to her family, gratefully taking her ice cream from her wife as she makes it to her side, saying something they can’t hear, “She seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says, feeling out of sorts from the flashback to a past life, something from so long ago it felt like it had happened to someone else. A part of her she kept secret, even from Aaron, “She is.” 

“Shall we go home?” He offers, his gaze on her as she smiles at him, a tenseness to it that she doesn’t hide well as her eyes meet his. She nods, shaking her head to rid herself of the feeling that had settled over her the last few minutes. The strange mix of nostalgia for her past when she was young and unburdened by responsibility and everything to come, and happiness for someone she’d once loved, all whilst she stood next to the person she knew was the love of her life, the man she’d spend the rest of her life with. 

“Yeah,” she says, smiling as she presses her lips together, her focus back on her ice cream as she eats some more, “Let’s go home.” 

___

She thinks about it for a couple of days.

She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it, her relationship with Cat and the other women she’d dated over the years, because it wasn’t relevant. Since she’d come back to DC, still on uneven ground after being Lauren Reynolds and being with Ian, she’d only dated men. It wasn’t a purposeful act, not something she’d particularly tried to do, but it had happened. So it meant telling her friends, her new family, seem unimportant. 

It was, after all, not the biggest secret she was keeping from them.

She’d never even told her mother. Sure that, at best, her reaction would be to tell her it was ‘just a phase.’ At worst, she was sure her mother’s rather selective catholicism would make itself known, and she didn’t want to put herself through it. Instead, she kept the few relationships she’d had with women from her, and the one time she’d met Cat she’d introduced her as a friend, something that she hadn’t known at the time would start to unravel their relationship. The first pull at the thread that held them together, Cat’s confidence in her sexuality so much stronger than Emily’s had been at the time. Cat had been out and proud the entire time she’d known her, and, in the long run, their difference in how they approached it would never have worked. 

There were times when Emily had considered telling the team. When she’d make eyes at a woman across a bar when they were all out together, but she’d always chicken out, even with her tongue loosened and her cheeks warmed by tequila. People, mostly ex-boyfriends, had reacted poorly before. Either telling her that bi-sexual wasn’t a real thing, dismissing something she’d always known to be true about herself, or over-sexualising it, a familiar look in their eyes as they saw how her sexuality could benefit them. 

After Paris, she decided she’d simply keep it to herself. Her friend's view of her had been changed anyway, the person they thought she was dead and gone, buried in the grave that had always been empty. She couldn’t bear to do it again, to once again change what they thought they knew about her, even for something like this, so she didn’t. Even when she started dating Aaron, sweet, kind loving, Aaron who had never been anything but supportive and unflinching whenever she told him anything she hesitated.

Ever since they’d walked into Cat, she felt the need to tell him. To uncover this last final part of herself that she’d kept hidden away. He knew everything about Ian. He knew about Rome. It was time he knew about this too. 

Even though she wants to tell him, she feels nervous. A familiar kind of anxiety settles in her chest as she snuggles up on the couch with him one night, determined to not put it off any longer. Jack was in bed, safe and asleep in his room down the hall, and the TV was on, a movie they’d watched countless times before fading into the background as she sinks into her boyfriend’s side. She presses her face against his shoulder, breathing him in, breathing in the last few moments of how things were before she changed them forever. 

“I need to tell you something,” she says, her words partially muffled by his shirt before she pulls back, her brows furrowed as she corrects herself, “Actually, I don’t need to tell you. But I want to.” 

He watches her carefully for a moment before he nods, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV, ensuring she has all of his attention. He turns so he’s facing her, his knee skimming her thigh as she turns too, her focus on the top of the couch. She tugs nervously at a loose thread, a nervous habit he’s grateful distracts her from her cuticles. He thinks of the ring he has tucked away in his sock drawer, of how he pictures her twisting it around her finger when she is nervous or worried. He reaches out for her, frowning when she jumps ever so slightly when his hand lands on her knee. He squeezes gently, smiling even though she doesn’t look up at him.

“You can tell me anything, you know that,” he assures her, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she continues to pull at the thread on the couch. 

“You…” she swallows thickly, her eyes closed as she trips over the words she’d practised in her head for days, “You remember that woman we bumped into the other day, Cat?” She asks, her eyes darting up to his face as he nods, “She…she wasn’t just a friend. She was my girlfriend. We dated for almost a year when we were both in college,” she blows out a breath, her chest shuddering with it, feeling somehow lighter and heavier at the same time with the admission, “I’m Bisexual.” 

Her words hang in the air around them and she holds her breath, waiting for his reaction, unable to bring herself to look at him, worried about what she’d find. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, his words even and calm, his softness so jarring she looks up at him fast enough it cricks her neck, a pain she barely feels as he carries on, “And thank you for trusting me - I know that can’t have been easy.” 

She chokes on a humourless laugh, “Thats…that’s it?” 

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out in his cheeks in a way she loves, and he squeezes her knee, “Did you…want a different reaction?” 

“No,” she replies, shaking her head, choking on something she can’t name - a sound between a sob and a laugh caught in her chest, “No, not at all. I’ve just never had someone react so…well before.” 

He furrows his brow, “What do you mean, sweetheart?” 

She laughs bitterly and shakes her head, wiping away a tear she hadn’t expected until she felt it on her cheek, “I once had an ex-boyfriend ask me if it meant we could have a threesome,” she says, scrunching her nose up at the memory. She looks at Aaron and smiles at the pure horror on his face, his brow furrowing in indignation for a past version of her, “I broke up with him when it became very clear he already had a list of women who’d be ‘up for it’ at the ready.” 

He clenches his jaw, “I’m sorry he reacted like that,” he replies, “You deserved better than that. You deserve better.” 

She presses her lips together and shakes her head lovingly as more tears slip past her lash line, “Well, I have better now,” she says, playing her hand over his on her knee, linking their fingers together, “Do you have any questions?” 

“Have you dated any other women?” He asks softly, curious more than anything, and she nods, running her thumb back and forth over his hand. 

“Yeah, a couple of others but none as serious as my relationship with Cat. And I’ve had a few dates and drunken hook-ups,” she replies, her cheeks burning with embarrassment she knows she shouldn't feel. 

“Have you always known?”

She nods, “Since I was pretty young,” she smiles her lips pressed together at the memory, “Let’s just say, The Dukes of Hazzard was a bit of an awakening. Luke Duke was hot…and so was Daisy Duke.” 

He smiles and squeezes her hand, lifting it to kiss her knuckles, “What made you tell me now?” 

She blows out a slow breath, “After we walked into Cat, I realised I didn’t want to hide it from you anymore. All the reasons I had for doing so suddenly didn’t make any sense.” 

He pulls her into a hug, his arm tight around her as he kisses her cheek, “I’m glad you told me,” he says, smiling as she turns her head to kiss him.

“I’m glad I did too,” she replies, nudging her nose against his, “I…I was so worried it would change how you looked at me.” 

He frowns and pulls back to look at her, shaking his head as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Never,” he assures her, “Nothing ever could. Especially this.” 

She furrows her brow and tilts her head at him, “What do you mean?” 

He sighs as he chooses his words carefully, “You’ve always been bi, sweetheart, right? It’s been part of who you are as long as I’ve known you, and it’s been part of you as long as I’ve loved you,” he smiles as he reaches out to wipe away a tear from her cheek, “So it doesn’t change anything because it’s always been who you are, even if you hadn’t told me.” 

She leans forward, her forehead against his neck as she breathes him in again, the world the same as it had been before she’d told him, but somehow different too. His understanding of her deeper but everything else unchanged. She takes a moment to hold him close, and she plays everything he’d said back in her head. A conversation she’d remember again and again as a reminder of how much he loved her, how well he loved her. Something she thinks that, after everything, she might just deserve. She furrows her brow as she thinks about it, the way he’d said part of all those wonderful things catching in her chest. Aaron was purposeful in everything. Not calculated, but purposeful. He never said anything he didn’t mean, and she narrows her eyes at him as she pulls back. 

“Wait…you said ‘even if I hadn’t told you…” she tilts her head as he clears his throat, avoiding her eye contact, “Oh my god - you knew?” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head with the hand not tangled up in hers, “Sweetheart-”

She scoffs and lightly hits his chest, her cheeks burning at the thought that she’d got herself so worked up over something he apparently already knew, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He smiles at her indignation, catching her hand before she slaps his chest again for laughing at her. He kisses her knuckles and smiles fondly at her, disarming her ability to be annoyed at him so easily she’s annoyed at herself. 

“It wasn’t my place to, Em,” he says, “It’s your story to tell.” 

She knows he’s right and she huffs out a breath, her cheek against his shoulder as she pouts in a way she’d deny if he brought it up, “How the hell did you know?” 

“As someone who has been in love with you for much longer than I care to admit, I paid close attention to your interactions with anyone I thought might be flirting with you,” he smiles as she tilts her head to look at him, “It didn’t take long to realise you have chemistry with literally every person you ever meet.” 

She suppresses a laugh, her lips pressed together as one more wave of anxiety rolls through her, “And you don’t mind?” 

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss her, his hand on her cheek to hold her in place, “If anything, it just makes me feel even more lucky that out of everyone you could be with you chose to be with me.” 

She sighs but it catches in her chest, love for him filling her lungs so fast she can’t catch her breath, “Oh, no honey,” she says, placing her hand over his on her cheek, shaking her head as he catches a tear the moment it slips free from her lashes, “I’m the lucky one.” 

[nope-body]

.

[sailortongue]

Good Luck Charms

pairing: kenji sato x reader

summary: Kenji has misplaced his earrings and refuses to leave without a pair. so you loan him a pair of yours

an: I wrote two blurbs involving his piercings bc I couldn't decide which one I liked more. one where he wears yours (this one) and one where you wear his (here!)

-------

“Hey, baby, have you seen my earrings? I can’t find them,” Kenji called out from the bedroom.

“Have you checked your nightstand?” You asked as you walked into the bedroom to see him looking around frantically for his lost jewelry.

“Twice. I’ve looked all over but I can't remember where I put them. Only that when I put them down I told myself I'd definitely be able to find them there.”

You chuckled, knowing the feeling all too well. “Why don’t you just go without them? I doubt anyone will be looking that closely”

He looked scandalized at the mere suggestion. “I can’t go without them because I’m hotter with my earrings.”

“Kenji, you'd still be hot in a burlap sack. And who exactly do you need to look hot for, hmm?”

He smiled slyly “For you obviously. Can’t let people think my girlfriend has bad taste.” He shot a conspiratorial wink at you.

“Would you like to borrow a pair of mine?” You offered.

He thought about it for a moment before nodding. You walked over to your jewelry box and he sidled up next to you, browsing through your collection. He picked up a pair of chunky hoops—a far cry from his usual studs—and held them up to his ears. “These are definitely the ones,” he joked, mirthful laughter bubbling from his plump lips.

“Oh, for sure,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your words but your giggles from his antics still seeping through.

He set them back down and watched as you dug for a more suitable pair. “What about these?” He asked, pointing to a much more modest pair this time. They were a favorite of yours, ones you wore often. “It'll be like having you there with me,” he said, a soft smile settling on his face.

You melted at his sappy words. How could you possibly tell him no? You gave him permission to wear them, and he excitedly ran to the bathroom to put them in. When he came back out, the small jade studs were secured in his earlobes, the wide grin on his face displaying how pleased he was with his choice.

He walked up to you and leaned down for a kiss. “Thank you,” he said sweetly.

“Consider them good luck charms,” you said. “Now get going before you’re late.”

He swooped in for one more kiss before rushing out of the bedroom to make it to his interview on time.

-❀-

“So, Ken, a lot of your fans, especially the women, seem to be very fond of your jewelry, but they can’t help but notice you don’t wear a ring. Is there any special lady in your life? I'm sure they’d love to know,” the interviewer teased.

Kenji chuckled, knowing that you were without a doubt watching this interview live from the comfort of the living room. “There is,” he replied. He brought his hands up to finger at the delicate jewelry in his ears. “These belong to her actually. She has wonderful taste. I mean, she must if she’s dating me, right?”

-❀-

You heard the crowd laugh at his response, a grin of your own spreading across your face. The show went on a commercial break shortly after, and you decided to get ready for bed while waiting for Kenji’s gorgeous face to once again grace your screen. You entered the bathroom and stood in front of the sink, opening the medicine cabinet to grab your dental floss—but something else caught your eye. Lo and behold, there, on the bottom shelf, were Kenji’s missing earrings.

[gurugirl]

The Babysitter - Again | dad!harry x babysitter!reader

Part 2 of THIS

Summary: Harry and the babysitter do it again.

A/n: Requested!

Word Count: 2,537

Warning: smut, cheating, inappropriate relationship/power imbalance, etc.

. . .

While Harry fantasized about fooling around with the babysitter more often than not, he didn’t believe he’d get another opportunity. His wife didn’t leave for work trips like she had the one evening. In fact, she was usually always home by the time Harry got home after work, and the cute babysitter was already long gone.

He did see her that morning, though. And what a surprise it was too. She arrived early, before Harry had rushed out the door to head off for the day. He heard her voice just as he was fixing up his tie, stopping the task midway to peek into the living room.

Holy shit… he muttered under his breath as he let his eyes slink over her long legs and the little shorts that hugged her ass just so. She was adorable, as always, but it’d been a bit since he’d seen her in person and immediately his mind worked its way through some very filthy thoughts about what he had done with her that night.

She laughed and turned toward the tall archway where he stood in the hall and smiled at him. He wasn’t one to get flustered but damn if the babysitter didn’t do it for him. She always had, but especially now, knowing what they’d done. Knowing what her body looked like under her little outfits, the kinds of noises she made, how good she felt around him, and how wet she got for him.

He blinked and turned back, face flushed hot from the salacious memory. Something he’d been reimagining over and over again since that fateful night.

Harry palmed at his crotch to tame the growing lump underneath and he sighed before grabbing his briefcase and car keys.

With a quick check of his hair in the mirror he stepped into the living room where Y/n was sitting on the couch with her left leg crossed over her right as his wife went to get their kid.

“Hi. You’re here early,” he looked her over again as she lifted her gaze to his and stood up.

“Yeah. Woke up early and figured I’d get a head start. Here,” she stepped in closer and took his tie, fixing the bit he’d forgotten about when he realized she was there. She kept her hands on the knot and looked up at him. There it was again. That doe-eyed fuck me look that had him plumping in his pants.

She released the tie and moved back as she looked behind Harry toward the hallway and back up at him, “How’ve you been?”

He nodded, “Alright. And you?”

She shrugged, “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

She offered a small smile and nodded, “Just okay.”

Harry didn’t know if she was trying to tell him something or not. Maybe it was school that was difficult or boyfriend issues – he didn’t think she had a boyfriend but he’d never asked either.

“Anything I can help with?” Now he was speaking low and quiet, curious what she might say.

“Mmm…” she pursed her lips to the side and shrugged again, “Probably.”

He knew exactly what she meant when she looked back up at him through her lashes and bit her lip. Goddamn, he could get into so much trouble.

Harry clenched his jaw and looked behind himself and with the coast still clear he reached for her fingers and whispered, “Would love to help. I just don’t know when I could ever do it again, Y/n.”

She nodded, “I know. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Y/n!”

Harry watched his boy run toward the babysitter and break the spell. Which was for the better. He didn’t need to be fucking around like that. What he’d done with her was a one-time thing. As much as he’d love more of her, that just wasn’t in the cards for them.

.                 .                 .

It was 1 o’clock when he got the text from his wife. She’d gotten off work early and was already home. Which meant she’d relieved Y/n. And she was at her dorm apartment with nothing to do. Perhaps even alone.

Harry gulped down the saliva that had pooled on his tongue just imagining what he could get up to with Y/n. But he had a pile of work to do. There was no way he could leave the office and still get his project ready by Friday.

It was such a bad idea to even be thinking about it. Yet there he was sliding his files into his briefcase and making the decision to finish some work at home later that night. He’d definitely lost his mind as he sent a text to Y/n asking her if she was home. And her nearly immediate response – Yes. Alone – had him rushing right out the door and jogging to his car to travel across town to Y/n’s apartment.

He wasn’t really even thinking. Not with a rational mind. If anyone saw him coming or going that might be bad. Though, he imagined no one would know who he was anyway. He was just a regular schmo after all. Who would be the wiser?

Y/n met him in the foyer and pulled at his hand before pushing a door open that led to a stairwell. She was only up one floor. Her small dorm was a one-room apartment with a separate bathroom attached.

She turned to face him when he closed the door behind himself, “My roommate has two more classes before she’s done for the day. My only class today is at 7 so…”

Harry grinned and stepped in, placing his meaty hands on her arms and bringing her closer, “So that means we have a little bit of time. And you need my help with something, don’t you?”

She puffed out a laugh with a nod, “I mean if you want. I know…” She sighed and blinked her eyes, he could tell she was nervous, “This is wrong, but… it’s just…”

“It’s just so good, though, isn’t it?”

She nodded again, teeth digging into her bottom lip. Fuck she was cute.

Y/n didn’t need any cues. She lowered her sight to the belt he had on and began to unbuckle him with deft fingers before she undid the button on his pants and pulled at the zipper.

He helped her push his pants down as she lowered to her knees and took her palm over his crotch, softly rubbing upward over his underwear.

“You get so hard… and so big…” She peeled his briefs down slowly once his cock was at full mast and the moment the fabric was pushed under his balls she wrapped her fingers around his rigid shaft and placed soft kisses along the thick vein underneath, licking over his tip and placing him in her mouth.

He put a palm at the back of her head as he watched her suckle around his crown and then pull him deeper into her mouth, tongue swirling and sucking as she looked up at him.

“Baby doll… fuck…”

Harry was so worked up. The last person he’d had sex with was Y/n and now here she was again with her pretty lips stretched around his length, tugging at his base with everything she had in her. She wanted to make him feel good and she was eager. It was no wonder he was so anxious to get to her apartment and flaked out on work. Flake out on his wife. If this was his reward, he’d continue doing it every fucking chance he got (which he knew would be rare).

Soon he had her on her bed completely naked and spread out with his mouth on her cunt. He didn’t even remember the last time his wife let him lick her pussy. His sex life had grown so dry. Hardly a smidgeon of foreplay before they were both rolling over and falling asleep.

But Y/n was moaning and pulling his hair, smearing her juices all over his face as she writhed and quivered from his fingers gliding against her front wall and his lips suctioning to her clit. Honestly? She was a breath of fresh air. Another person who liked sex as much as he did. Harry thought he had been doomed to a life with boring and barely palatable sex (that was when he could get it). Y/n could be the answer to that problem.

He loved the noises she made when she came. She was just loud enough that anyone walking by her door could hear her, but not so loud that everyone in the hallway would know what was happening in that room.

Harry’s cock was so hard as he let go of her thigh and sat up, reaching a hand up her body to smooth his thumb over her nipple, wiping her arousal all around it.

She was breathing heavily, a small, cute smile on her face as she looked at him and kept her legs parted before saying the hottest thing he’d ever heard, “You can have me now.”

Her wet pussy was a decadent treat just for him. Sliding himself right in she inhaled through puckered lips at the stretch and he groaned from relief. And once again he gave it to her bare. No condom. He was insane, he was sure. He’d pull out before he could come, just like the first time, but he was obsessed with how she felt around him, all squishy and warm and soaking wet.

Her bed was cheap with a metal frame and Harry was a big man with a lot of endurance and pent-up desire. He was a man who was getting his cock wet by a girl who wanted it and he was not going to worry about how quiet he was. In fact, the bouncing springs, and frame slapping into the wall only heightened the experience for him. He not only loved the way sex felt and smelled and looked, but he also loved how everything sounded. The way her cunt gushed wetly every time he plowed in, her little squeaks and moans, skin patting together when his hips met hers, and the screeching and bouncing bed they were doing it on were all music to his ears.

“Oh god!” She cried when he ground in, swiveling his hips, buried into the hilt, slushy wetness seeping down to her ass.

“Mmm… fuck, Y/n…” Harry was in heaven as he fucked into her. His balls were squeezing and his cock was throbbing. Perhaps a condom would’ve been a wise decision, especially if it meant he could hold out longer. But he hated the thought of not getting to feel her as nature intended.

He smeared his lips against hers and she rolled up into him, moaning into his mouth. He was sure he was driving deep in her guts, stuffed up into her tummy every time he bottomed out. She keened and cooed and quivered under him.

His chest was pressed against hers and he felt her nails scrape into his lats as his glutes flexed with every thrust. They were pasted together, the only bits moving were their lips and tongues and Harry’s thighs as he worked his girthy dick into her, dragging through her tight walls.

Rocking down hard into her, he wanted to make sure her clit had enough friction. His chest was sweating and his insides were boiling. He was so close to his end.

But then he felt her squeezing in pulses and then clamp down, her mouth dropped open and she halted her kisses as she began to moan loudly, “Mmm… coming… want your come. Come inside of me…”

Harry closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his inner demon told him to fuck it and give her what she wanted. Fill her up with his come and push it deep into her tummy. He was already playing with fire.

Gritting his teeth he endured the way her cunt was siphoning around him, pulling and fluttering… she felt so good on his cock. Nothing had felt so good in a long time.

And the moment his balls began to constrict with that tell-tell throb and pinch he pulled out with a filthy groan and wrapped his big hand around himself to spurt his come over her pussy, a few ropes coated her clit. But then Y/n scrambled to sit up and she practically dove forward with her mouth wide open, tongue jutted out, and sucked him into her mouth. She placed her hands on his hips and drank him down, moaning around him and sliding her lips down his shaft as far as she could take him.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck me!” Harry rasped out in a deep voice as he placed both palms on her head and rutted inward to let her suck him dry.

When Y/n could tell he’d calmed and he let go of her head she pulled off of him, strings of saliva and come connecting her lips and his cock. It was dirty.

She blinked her bleary eyes up at him, “Why didn’t you come inside of me?”

Harry pulled at her and brought them down to lie on their sides facing one another, “Because that seems a little reckless. Don’t you think?”

She sighed and drew a finger over his swallow tattoos, “I’m on birth control. And… I’ve only had sex with one guy and that was like a year and a half ago. I mean…” she looked up at him with innocent rounded eyes, “I know it’s bad I just wanted to let you do it. Maybe feel it later while I’m in class.”

Harry’s brows shot up at all of this new info.

Looking into her eyes he wrapped his hand around the front of her throat and pressed his mouth to hers. She was gonna be trouble if she was talking like that. Those words… that was every straight man’s fantasy right there.

He parted from the kiss and she gasped as if he’d just given her the headiest kiss she’d ever tasted, “Baby… fuck…” he shook his head and sat up, “That’s… alright. Next time we’ll talk about me filling you up. Preferably before you start to come. Okay?”

She watched him dress himself as she lay in her bed still naked, “So you want a next time?”

Harry let out an incredulous laugh, “I hope there’s a next time. Can’t promise anything. Kind of hard to find moments like these.”

She nodded, his trousers pulled up as he buttoned himself in. Chest still bare and broad and strong.

He grinned when he noticed she was staring at him. He hadn’t been ogled in a long time either. Everything about Y/n was what he’d been missing in his marriage. Which was a fucking shame when he sat and thought about it too much. It was sad that he had to get some of his most basic needs met by someone else. He should have been doing all that with his wife.

But again, there was no remorse or guilt. That hadn’t come yet. He was just going to enjoy the ride while it lasted and hoped he didn’t get caught.

. . .

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[rashomonss]

The brothers and the Human Realm

a/n: so ik ‘jealous much’ won the poll but it’s still not done yet so have this instead!

context: a part of me still finds lessons 40-43 funny because the brothers have never really been to the human world that much, and they don’t really know how certain things work. Take the slow cooker and ice cream truck for example. So these are little headcanons I have for when all of y’all are together in the beginning of their stay in the human realm.

enjoy <3 , also these are in no specific order

you all are hopeless…

Solomon and MC would so fuck with the brothers while being in the human realm.

For example they’d take Lucifer to the shadiest mexican restaurant possible then after they finished eating they would tell the waiters it was Lucifer’s birthday and watch the Avatar of Pride sit there with a big ass sombrero on his head as they sang happy birthday to him.

MC later took a picture and sent it to Diavolo who then made it his lock screen.

Satan and Belphie tried to electrocute Lucifer by throwing a toaster in the bathroom while he was in the middle of a shower. This happened after the fact you told them not to put water on the toaster because it could electrocute someone. 

Beel ate an entire bottle of ibuprofen liquid gels because he thought they were hard gummies.

Beel also ate the food and cake shaped wax candle melts you had bought for Asmo as a gift

Beel lastly ate your whole brand new container of melatonin and it knocked him out for 15 hours straight. Needless to say Lucifer was very concerned for his wellbeing, and Belphie soon questioned if you had anymore.

Belphie and his brothers were never taught stranger danger, because who in their right mind would be a danger to them in the Devildom?

So after you had explained to him what an ice cream truck was he vowed to go to one with you.

However when a creepy old man in a white van offers him candy he believes it to be the same as the ice cream truck so he gets in the van.

When the brothers relay this information to you, you begin to lose your shit explaining how that was not in fact an ice cream truck he got into but instead a kidnapper van.

The brothers don’t know how to eat certain human world foods.

Such as a banana, watermelon, mango, pineapple, kiwi, avocado, cherry, dragon fruit, papaya, onion, etc.

So when you first buy one from the grocery store and leave it out before cutting it they automatically think it’s some weird shaped human food and bite into it eating the skin or seeds and all.

After they tell you about the weird but delicious taste of it you ask if they cut it or spit out the seeds before eating it, and when they reply with a puzzled look and a no your heart drops.

Thank god they’re demons. You then proceed to buy the same thing again this time cutting it up in front of them so they know what parts to eat of certain things.

Expanding on the cherry part, did y’all’s parents ever tell you not to swallow watermelon or cherry seeds because if you did a cherry tree or whole watermelon would then grow in your stomach??

I know mine and some of my friends parents would tell us that when I was younger to make sure we didn’t swallow any seeds.

If they didn’t then oh well, anyway…

Continuing with Solomon being an ass, he would so tell something like that to the brothers. If he happened to see Beel swallow a cherry whole he would then proceeded to tell Lucifer not to let him do that.

And when the oldest asks why Solomon would then go onto explain that if he swallows cherry pit then a cherry tree will then grow inside his stomach.

Of course this freaked out Lucifer so for the next hour he tried getting Beel to spit out all the cherries he ate.

You would have to organize their fridge and pantry in the new house because they don’t know which human world foods need to be refrigerated or not.

After you arrive at the house you spent a good three hours explaining to them not everything can go in the pantry because some of it will spoil after you open it.

Then you proceed to gag when you pulled out an expired chunky milk container from the pantry.

They find the concept of drive thru or fast food places astonishing. The fact that you can just order wait in a line for a few minutes in your car then get your food is crazy. They do however all panic though when you get to the front and they don’t know what to order off the menu.

Car washes are also something they found themselves favoring. You would turn up the music as you slowly pulled in and joked by telling the brothers you were going on a ride of sorts.

Which in turn shocked you when they did believed you as the car wash stared. Each of them were staring out the windows with starry eyes as different colors of soap were thrown on your car.

You laughed to yourself as they all admired the way the soap blended together, Asmo and Mammon found themselves taking pictures of the whole thing. While Belphie was telling Beel how this looked like a starry sky.

And Levi went on to tell Satan how this reminded him of an anime scene. Lucifer also found himself sitting quietly in the passenger seat enjoying it too. (Lucifer is a certified passenger princess, fight me on that)

Each brother questioned you on how this was possible and you replied with smile. After the car wash was over and you drove through the dryers they all asked if you could do that again, to which you replied smiling “maybe some other time”.

Lucifer watered the fake succulents and plants you put around the house for two weeks straight until you said something.

They love watching true crime documentary’s to the point you’d have to physically pull them away from the tv.

It happened one afternoon while a few of them were relaxing in the living room and you were looking for a channel to watch.

Deciding there was nothing interesting on you put on an old true crime documentary and began watching it. As the brothers heard the story of the crime from the tv they each became immersed in it.

Telling you things such as “how could humans do that to each other?” or “wow humans are more brutal than we thought” or even adding in their own comments on how they could have made the crime worse.

It became a guessing game between all of them to figure out who killed who during each episode you watched.

Much to everyone dismayed Satan was the one who won every time.

Meanwhile while they were all immersed in the tv you noticed Lucifer standing behind you, arms crossed also watching tv. You told him to sit down and watch with all of you but he denied, claiming he wasn’t really interested in stuff like this anyway.

Yet he never moved from that same spot each episode.

Each of the brothers have made something explode in the microwave.

Lucifer stained it red when he went to reheat pasta, but he put it in for to long and it exploded. Mammon overfilled his ramen thus causing it to leak then explode.

Satan and Levi also happened to be reheating takeout at the same time, but both of the containers were styrofoam and exploded. Levi got annoyed and Satan threw the microwave at Lucifer.

Asmo put some skincare product in there because he found something online about a certain hack, and it exploded causing the microwave to smell like burnt strawberries.

Beel put too much food in the microwave causing it to all melt together then explode.

Belphie put a coffee in there to reheat and it exploded, but he was too lazy to clean it up so he just left it. Lucifer was then next to use the microwave and got coffee all over him.

You made all seven of them watch the entire twilight series as a joke but ironically they all actually enjoyed it.

Satan even went out and bought the books, and finished all of them in about 2 hours

Bonus

Solomon distracted Diavolo for 3 hours straight by making him watch 5 minute craft videos.

Diavolo then proceeded to break things to try these said crafts which caused Barbatos to have a meltdown.

Barbatos destroyed an entire sidewalk because he saw two rats run across it into the sewer.

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! Me again but with an actual request this time 😭😭 would you be able to write poly!marauders with reader who just got their wisdom teeth out and they’re all taking her home and taking care of her while she’s all loopy and hyped up on pain meds. I think it’d be so silly and cute. Only if you want to though! Much love and thanks!

-🍓

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mention of blood, effects of anesthesia

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Sirius had offered to be the one to drive you, but no one had let him because of how upset you all knew he’d get. As soon as you come through the door, Remus knows they’d made the right decision. 

“I know, darling,” James' voice is low, sympathetic, and a bit panicked, “but I promise you can have them in a couple of days, alright?”

Sirius leaves the dishwater to get cold, beelining for the front door. Remus is hot on his tail. They find James kneeling in front of you, untying your shoes while tears dribble off your chin and into his hair.

“I can make you a smoothie, or mashed potatoes, or any non-solid your heart desires.” He turns his head, mouthing help. 

Your face only crumples miserably, and James looks nearly like he might cry too but Sirius comes to his rescue. 

“Hey, sweet girl.” He palms the back of your head, careful of your face as he tilts it up towards him. “What’s got you so wound up, huh?” 

“He won’t let me have marshmallows,” you cry, words all garbled by the gauze in your mouth. 

“So mean,” Sirius commiserates. “I’ll do you one better and make you a chocolate milk, how’s that sound?” 

Your tears dry instantly. James lifts your ankle to take off your shoe, and you grip Sirius’ arms, beaming up at him. Or beaming as best you can, with your mouth all numb and full of cotton. 

“That sounds amazing,” you sigh, blissful. 

Sirius grins right back at you, his hand coasting down your neck and back up again. Remus can tell he’s dying to touch your face the way he normally would, but he restrains himself. “You’ve got a deal,” he says as James pries off your other shoe. “Come watch me work.” 

He steers you toward the kitchen, Remus passing a hand over your head as you go by. You give him a sweet, lovelorn look in return. 

“Can she have her gauze out soon?” he asks James once you’re in the kitchen. 

He sets your shoes by the door. “Yeah, it should be fine by now. They said a half hour.” James leans against the couch and passes a hand over his face. He looks so worn out Remus can’t help but cross the room to him, taking his hand and kissing it lightly.

“Was she very upset the whole time?” he asks.

“No, she’s been all over the place. Far worse than you, though.” 

Remus feels heat rise to his face at the memory. He’d had his wisdom teeth out last summer and reportedly spent the rest of the day clinging to whoever was nearest, grousing about how tired he was but never actually going to sleep. 

“Oh, uh…” James digs in his pocket. A few receipts and a dime come out, then a small bottle of pills. “They said she should start on these once she got home, but I can’t get them open. Can you try?” 

“Mhm.”

“Thanks.” James’ eyes widen, and he rushes off to the kitchen, saying something to Sirius about how they can’t let you use a straw. Remus follows a few steps behind, reading the label of the pill bottle before twisting the top off. It was childproofed, bless him. 

When he enters the kitchen, Sirius has you sat up on the counter and is poking around in your mouth. He takes out the gauze carefully, one piece at a time, and sets it on the counter. Remus makes a mental note to deep-clean that later. Your eyes follow Sirius’ movements, slowly widening. 

“Is all that blood from me?” Your voice carries a slight quiver. 

“That?” Sirius says swiftly. “No, that’s old blood. You’re good as new now.” 

“Oh,” you breathe, deflating a bit in relief. Remus chuckles, and your eyes fly to him, lighting. “Rem!” 

You open your arms wide. He steps into them, raising his eyebrows at James as you grip his shoulders tightly. 

“Told you,” James stage-whispers. “All over the place.” 

“I can hear you,” you say, words muffled into Remus’ sweater. He pets the back of your head pacifyingly. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” 

You take some time to mull this over. “M’okay,” you decide. “I’m a little sad they had to take my tongue, but it could be worse I guess.” 

“They didn’t take your tongue,” James says, like it’s not the first time he’s had to tell you this, “you just had some teeth removed.” 

“They’re dismantling me,” you say morosely. It’s clear you’ve accepted your fate. 

Remus strokes your hair again, leaning away slightly so you’ll look up at him. You do, and even with your glassed-over eyes and puffy cheeks you’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“I’m glad you’re not hurting too badly,” he hums, cupping the side of your head. You smile dopily and lean into the touch. “I’ve got a pill that’ll help make sure you don’t hurt later, too.” 

Sirius passes you your chocolate milk so you can take it, and James clucks about how you need to take slow, careful sips all the way until you’ve drained the glass. As soon as it’s out of your grasp you’ve replaced it with Remus’ hand, your fingers tracing the lines of his palm with idle fascination. 

“Feel like watching a film?” he asks you softly. 

You hum. “That sounds nice. Can I have the fuzzy pillow because they’re taking me apart?” 

Remus huffs a laugh, and James groans. “Nobody’s taking you apart, darling,” he reasons. “The dentist only took the unimportant bits.” 

“Bit by bit,” you sigh. 

James looks in distress, so Remus takes the crook of his elbow in hand, squeezing lightly as Sirius eases you off the counter and into his hold. Remus thinks you’ll be lucky if he releases you before tomorrow. 

“You can have all the pillows if you want them,” Sirius promises you. “My poor girl, being taken apart bit by bit. You can have whatever you want.”

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[ohimsummer]

you enter your shared apartment, exhausted after a stressful day, only to find shredded rubber right at the front door. and, judging from the color, no doubt it’s the gift you had just given puppyboy! satoru the night prior.

“baby!” comes his greeting, tail wagging behind him as he rushes to embrace you, his steps a little heavier as satoru stomps right over the mess he’s left—as if it wasn’t even there.

“satoru—“, he squeezes you into his chest, muffling your words as he presses kisses to the top of your head. “satoru, that was new, why the hell—“

unbeknownst to you, the words go through one silky, white ear and straight out the other. satoru was already long prepared for your complaints. he knew they’d be coming when he chewed the fleshlight you had given him—an utterly sorry replacement for you—into teeny, tiny bits and trashed them right at the entryway.

the toy had him utterly disgusted. satoru didn’t even try it out, too disrespected to even get hard at the thought of fucking some fake, silicone toy in place of your warm, wet walls. it was such a sad little thing, cold and lifeless on his finger tips and satoru could tell from a single glance that it would be pitiful to use.

a squeeze to your ass cuts off the next sentence, and prompts you to glare up at him. “satoru, are you even listening?”

“yes.”, he responds, too fast, a lie. “can i take a shower with you?”

“nuh-uh, no sir.” you shove yourself out of his grasp. “you can clean up your mess—“

only a few steps and satoru has coiled himself around you again, holding you in place as he noses at your neck. you assume there’s an incoming bite in the next minute or so.

“i’ll do it after! please, please.”, he whines against the shell of your ear before mouthing at your shoulder. you can feel his hardness grinding against your ass, and you know if you say yes, that pile of rubber will remain there until morning.

you sigh. “satoru—“

and then a yelp leaves your lips as he sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot of your neck, walking you towards the bathroom. “you’ve been gone all day. i missed you, ya know.”

if his plan was to make you feel bad, it’s working. you can basically hear that signature pout on his lips, catching a glimpse of it in the mirror as he kicks the bathroom door shut behind you both.

“did you really hate it that much?”, you ask. “i bet you didn’t even try it.”

“it was rude to give that to me.”, satoru huffs, wandering hands squeezing at your waist as he bends you over the sink. his tongue darts over pink lips as satoru kneels behind you. “you know i only prefer the real thing.”

🐈: @staryukis @teddybeartoji @panthrology @lxnarphase @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @hellkaiserinphoenix @cinnamoneve @satoruxsc @rosso-seta @angelina7890 @starlightanyaaa @domainexpansionmypants @neptuneblue @biscuitsngravie @babytoshiii @kissesfrombelle @v0ctin @purplegemadventures @luvvforliaa @apatauaia @sataraxia @leilalilox @sugu-love @manyno @the-monster-under-the-bed

[6esiree]

Halloween With The Hazbin Men And Your Daughter

With Spirit Halloween already showing up around town, I’m out here thinking about Alastor, Lucifer, Husk, Vox, and Adam taking care of your daughter during Halloween. 🤭

Alastor:

• I feel like he would be the type to hand out treats—or more like tricks—but with your daughter in the picture, he’s walking around Hell’s neighborhoods with her little hand holding onto his, his back slightly hunched because of the significant height difference between the two.

• If your daughter begged Alastor to wear a costume… it would most likely be something as subtle as Jim from the Office wearing a sticker on his shirt with the name “Dave” on it. While she’s 5-years-old, she’s already accepted her adoptive father’s stubborn nature.

• Oh! And if someone tries to pull a trick on your daughter, which is not likely to happen with him around—but if it does, you best believe that Alastor will summon one of his minions to make sure that she listens to his instructions: close your eyes, cover your ears, and turn around, while he devours the poor soul for trying to scare her.

“Daddy? Why did you ask me to do that?” Your daughter innocently asks after he shrinks back to his normal size. His minion vanishes with a wave of its hand, so she narrowly misses the way his tongue swipes across his teeth.

“Well, to get your treats, my sweet little doe,” Alastor says, handing her a full-sized candy bar, which he definitely stole from a random kid’s basket. That house was only dealing tricks, after all. “Now, let’s move onto the next house, shall we?”

• Your daughter tries to grab his hand again, but Alastor decides to carry her, his spine slightly aching after walking down several blocks with his back hunched. She is delighted, of course, a chuckle reverberating through his chest as she marvels at the different view, eating her full-sized candy bar all the while.

Lucifer:

• Oh, Lucifer would be absolutely elated to take your daughter out trick-or-treating. He’s willing to wear everything and anything as a costume, no matter how embarrassing it may seem, excited to relive what he used to do with Charlie.

• Hunching? What’s that? Our short King doesn’t have to worry about his back hurting if your daughter holds his hand while going door-to-door in the neighborhood, although he’d rather have her sit on his shoulders in fear that someone will try to take her.

• Nobody is going to try and pull a trick on your daughter with Lucifer around, they’d be stupid to do so. But if they have no treats and only tricks, the random sinner will probably scramble to find something sweet in their house to avoid him turning them into a frog or something, lol.

“Wow! They gave me more candy than the other kids,” Your daughter gasps as she stares down at her basket, already filled to the brim despite only trick-or-treating for 30 minutes. “Look, daddy!”

“Oh, that’s amazing, ducky! Do you want to continue walking around or…?” Lucifer asks, his hands clasped behind his back as he anticipates her response.

“No, because my mommy won’t even let me eat that much candy,” Your daughter says, but Lucifer leans down and whispers in her ear, telling her that he’ll promise not to tell her how much candy she eats.

• And he keeps his promise, allowing her to eat all the candy she wants on the way back to the hotel, even eating some alongside her. But when your daughter complains to you about having a stomach ache, you end up scolding both of them, leaving Lucifer a flustered mess.

Husk:

• Oh, Husk would definitely be the type to stay back and hand out treats, but only because Alastor forced him to. With your daughter in the picture, however, he’ll be spared from the mind-numbing duty.

• Would Husk wear a costume? Hmm, I’m not quite sure, but if your daughter whines enough, he’ll acquiesce and allow her to put something on him. He is not pleased when she swipes his hat off of his head and replaces it with a tiara.

• Husk is not as tall as Alastor, and even though your daughter is rather short, the man spends most of the time hunched anyway. He doesn’t mind holding her hand as they go door-to-door, but he does mind the snickers random sinners toss his way at his half-assed costume.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, bub?” Husk growls after your daughter receives her treat, and he almost feels bad for causing a scene in front of her… until she unwraps the candy bar and it ends up being fake.

“Oh no, it’s plastic,” She pouts, her big, round eyes staring up at Husk in disappointment, brimming with tears, especially as the sinner in front of him laughs. “Daddy?”

“Aight, pumpkin, turn around and let ya old man deal with this chump,” Husk instructs her, and she complies… sort of, kind of, peeking through her fingers and giggling as he knocks him out.

• After that, Husk takes your daughter in his arms and uses his wings for once, an excited squeal seeping past her lips as he flies to the nearest gas station, allowing her to take whatever candies she wants, leaving his poor wallet hurting. But the way she smiles up at him as he pays for everything makes it all worth it.

Vox:

• Does Vox even go outside? It would take a whole lot of begging and whining from your daughter for him to even consider giving out candy outside of the Vee tower. Much like Alastor, he’ll wear a half-assed costume and call it a day, your daughter sitting on his lap as you give out candy.

• Every time your daughter looks over her shoulder with those big, round eyes of hers, he’ll put on his signature grin, making sure that she doesn’t see how displeased he is that he’s giving out candy in Hell for the first time. For some odd reason, it’s just embarrassing to him.

• Vox doesn’t bother giving out tricks… until one unsavory child tries to take more than what your daughter is supposed to give, hurting her in the process. He has a TV for a head, so I can imagine him putting on something scary, and all your daughter sees is him chuckling as she turns around in confusion.

“Daddy? Why did that little boy run away screaming?” Your daughter asks, turning away and watching the boy run down the streets of Hell in fear, candy spilling from his bucket all the while.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, sweet pea,” Vox says as he settles down, affectionately carding his claws through her hair, making her giggle. “Is the candy almost done?”

“Yes—are we going to do something else after that?” Your daughter asks, digging through the bucket, finding a candy she likes. “Oohh, and can I eat one?”

• Vox allows your daughter to have whatever is left, knowing that you’re not particularly keen about her eating too many sweets. Plus, he could have anything else sweet whipped up in the Vee tower easily, alongside some child-friendly Halloween movies, of course. Maybe next year he’ll go trick-or-treating with her.

Adam:

• Look, I’m not religious or anything, but I’ve met plenty of Christians who do not celebrate Halloween, but let’s say Adam is in a secret relationship with you, a sinner, and begrudgingly agrees to look after your daughter while you’re out with some friends.

• He can’t take your daughter out trick-or-treating, so he decides to put on some movies in your room and brings a lot—and I mean a lot—of candies and sweet treats for the two of them to indulge themselves in. Adam ends up eating most of the stuff he brought, however.

• Your daughter plays with Adam’s mask, pretending to be an Exorcist after losing interest in the movie, an amused chuckle reverberating through the angel’s chest as she trips over his leg. He quickly spreads out one of his wings, so all she feels are his feathers when she falls.

“You wanna be an Exorcist, just like me?” Adam asks as he watches her peel his mask off, her head nodding vigorously. It’s bittersweet to him—the 5-year-old doesn’t know the full extent of what Exorcists actually do.

“I want to be a fighter just like you, daddy!” Your daughter says, jumping over his legs and pretending to fly, her mouth stained with chocolate. “And have wings like you, and that round thing on your head—“

“The halo?” Adam chuckles as she approaches him, her hand tapping it. “Yes, this thingy majiggy,” She giggles, sitting back and taking some of his candy; and while he usually doesn’t like sharing what he’s eating, he doesn’t mind her taking some. “Hmm, I’m not sure if your mommy would like that, princess.”

• Adam invites her to eat more candy with him in an effort to make her drop the whole Exorcist topic. And fortunately, your daughter drops it, sitting next to him and eventually falling asleep in his arms, using his belly as a pillow. He never thought he’d feel bad about Extermination Day, his hand stroking her hair as he watches the TV.

[livwritesstuff]

Steve is home one day with his daughters when he realizes that his oldest, Moe, is ten.

Okay, obviously, he knew she was ten. She’s been ten for a while, as her birthday is in July and it’s now December, and the girls are discussing Christmas as they perceive it in their little girl worlds.

It’s really that Steve realizes that Moe is the same age Erica had been when he’d asked her to climb through air ducts and infiltrate a Russian military base.

It’s a realization that has Steve feeling a little nauseous, because Moe is ten and she’s plotting with her little sisters about how they’re going to stay awake on Christmas Eve to catch a glimpse of Santa (their conspiring has Steve worried for his and Ed’s own role in Christmas Eve and the way it hinges on the girls falling asleep as early as fucking possible), and she’d lost another baby tooth this morning and hasn’t stopped talking about what the tooth fairy might leave for her overnight, and she still sneaks into his and Eddie’s room after nightmares looking for snuggles, and she’s afraid of car washes and bugs, and she still wants to be read to before bed every night.

He’d been struck suddenly by how little Moe still is. Maybe he’s only thinking that because she’s his daughter – his first daughter, at that – but he still looks at that kid’s face and sees the newborn baby who’d made him a dad ten years ago.

He can’t imagine looking at her and seeing someone equipped to take on Erica had been asked to do, never mind actually asking her to do it, which is precisely what Steve had done twenty-five years ago.

It eats at him for the rest of the day.

“Just call her, Steve,” Eddie urges him after Steve brings it up for the sixth time that evening, “You clearly need to air this shit out.”

So Steve calls Erica.

Erica is in her mid-thirties now. She’s a kick-ass lawyer at a private firm in Indiana, and she picks up the phone on the second ring.

“This is Erica,” she says.

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

“What’s up,” she replies, still never one for beating around the bush.

“I just – I need to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For Scoops,” Steve says, “For Starcourt.”

Erica is silent for a while.

None of them really talk about any of that stuff anymore. They’d hashed everything out ages ago, until all that was left behind was the understanding that none of them would ever be able to truly move past it, that there would always be guilt and fear and pain they could never shake.

“Okay?” she finally says, question in her tone.

“I just…” Steve hesitates, “Look – I didn’t get it. I didn’t fully get how fucked up it was. I was the grown up in the situation and I should have put a stop to it but I was stupid and reckless, and now that Moe is ten, I can’t stop thinking about how insane it was for us to even consider roping you into that.”

“I agreed to it.”

“You were a kid.”

“You were a kid,” Erica insists.

“Eighteen isn’t a kid anymore.”

“Say that to me again when Moe’s eighteen and maybe I’ll believe you.”

Steve doesn't have anything to say to that, because Erica is probably right (though only time will tell, he supposes). Their phone call ends only a few minutes later with Erica telling him to go easy on himself and Steve saying he’d try before apologizing one more time.

“You gonna take her advice?” Eddie asks after he’s pulled a begrudging Steve into his arms.

“No,” he tells him, curling into his husband’s side and sticking his nose in Eddie’s neck so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Figures.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

wanna shout it from the rooftops

for @steddie-week prompt 'secret relationship'

rated m | 1397 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: secret relationship, established relationship, love confessions, making out, coming out

🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫🤫

As soon as Dustin walked out the door, Eddie was backing Steve against the wall, lips on his neck, hands wandering across his arms and sides.

“God, I thought they’d never leave,” Steve gasped, throwing his head back as Eddie’s teeth bit into his collarbone. “Need you so fuckin’ bad, baby.”

“Looked so good in that apron. So unfair I couldn’t get my hands on you when you were making cookies for us,” Eddie groaned against his skin. “Wanna fuck you right here. Open you up on my tongue-“

“Sorry, Steve! Forgot my-“ Dustin’s voice stopped before Eddie could even register that he should pull away. “What the fuck!”

“Language!” Steve yelled as he shoved Eddie away from him, trying to fix his shirt and hair. Not that it would do any good; Dustin just got an eyeful already.

At least they weren’t naked. Yet.

“Please tell me you were fighting,” Dustin sounds distraught, which isn’t fair. He should’ve knocked.

“You spent months making me feel bad for not wanting to hang out with your new best friend and now you’re hoping we’re fighting?” Steve placed his hands on his hips, subtly trying to catch his breath and will his dick back to soft. “What about that looked like fighting to you? How have you not sat through sex ed yet?”

“You were having sex?!” Dustin’s voice cracked. “In the hall?!”

“Of my home!” Steve threw his arms up. “And no we weren’t having sex, but we were getting there.”

Eddie held his hands up, brain finally coming back online enough to intervene before things got out of hand.

“Okay. Dustin, why the hell are you even back?”

“I forgot my notebook.”

“And you decided to storm in here like it’s your house instead of knocking?” Steve was trying to take it easy, but everything was falling apart.

They’d kept their relationship a secret for nearly three months now. Robin didn’t even know.

Now that Dustin saw what he did, everyone would know and everyone would hate them and then Eddie would leave Steve for making everyone hate them and-

“Stevie!” Eddie’s hands were on his cheeks as Steve focused back in on what was going on. His breath was coming in short pants, and if Eddie wasn’t so close to him, he isn’t sure he’d be able to see him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’ve gotta breathe for me.”

Breathe for Eddie. He could do that. He did that all the time.

He liked doing what Eddie told him to, he liked the praise that came when he did it, he liked being good. Breathing was easy.

He took a deep breath, then another, relaxing as Eddie smiled back at him encouragingly.

“That’s good, angel. Keep doing that. I’m gonna get Dustin’s notebook, okay?” Eddie didn’t seem like he wanted to leave Steve alone, but he didn’t have much of a choice right now.

“Okay.”

Eddie walked away, towards the study that they’d turned into a game room for the kids to hang out in, and Steve immediately felt the panic settle in his chest again.

“Steve?” Dustin asked, stepping closer to him.

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell any of us?” Dustin sounded hurt, looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was worried you’d hate me, or Eddie. That all of you would hate us for…for being different,” Steve looked down at his hands. “Didn’t wanna lose you.”

“But it’s okay if you’re gay, Steve. None of us would care!” Dustin exclaimed. “I just kinda thought you liked girls. Like Nancy.”

“I do. I just also like guys. I love Eddie,” Steve provided, relaxing slightly at Dustin’s words.

“You love him?” Dustin asked.

“You love me?” Eddie asked from the doorway, clutching Dustin’s notebook tight to his chest.

Steve wasn’t used to keeping his crushes and relationships a secret. He was used to holding hands in the movie theater and kissing a girl goodbye at her door. He was used to being able to show how much he loved someone without a filter.

But with Eddie, he’d held back. He had to in some ways, and they agreed it was best not to give anything away around anyone else for a while, but he’d hoped that Eddie saw how much he cared about him when they were alone.

“I do. I thought it was pretty obvious,” Steve stepped closer to Eddie, ignoring Dustin’s presence entirely. “I love you.”

Eddie threw Dustin’s notebook to the side, ignoring the ‘hey!’ that Dustin let out, and pulled Steve into his arms.

“Can’t believe you told Dustin before you told me,” Eddie laughed against his shoulder. “You know he can’t keep a secret.”

“Yeah, well. I love you enough to not care if everyone knows,” Steve said as he wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, kissing the side of his head and lingering there for longer than he probably should in front of a guest. “Was gonna tell you tomorrow after our date.”

“You mean the super secret plans that you wouldn’t give me any hints about?” Eddie pulled away, searching Steve’s eyes. “Will you tell me them now?”

“Maybe when Dustin leaves.”

Both of them turned to Dustin, who was staring at them with a blank look.

“Dustin?” Eddie asked, snapping his fingers to get his attention.

“I’m gonna go,” Dustin said, still looking lost. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Hey, man,” Eddie let go of Steve to walk towards Dustin. “We good?”

“Yeah! I just thought you guys barely even liked each other and you’re actually in love and having sex and I’m just trying to do the math.”

Steve snorted, but straightened out when Eddie glared at him.

“If you wanna talk about anything, you can stay. You seem kinda…out of it.”

“I’d rather not intrude right now,” Dustin said, gesturing to the way their hair and clothing was still a bit disheveled. “But you are gonna tell everyone soon, right? So I don’t have to keep it a secret?”

Eddie looked over at Steve, smiling when he gave him one nod in agreement.

“Yeah, dude. We’re gonna tell everyone at the next movie night,” Eddie said as he turned back to Dustin.

“Thank god!” He breathed out. “Then I’m leaving so you two can do…whatever it is you do.”

He didn’t wait for them to respond, rushing out the door, nearly forgetting his notebook again.

Eddie laughed as he slammed the door, his head falling onto Steve’s shoulder as they fell against the closest wall. Steve was holding Eddie up, laughing with him at the absurdity of being caught by their favorite, but most likely to tell everyone, kid.

“He’s gonna go tell everyone right now, you know that, right?” Steve gasped out between laughter.

“Oh yeah. We’ll be lucky to have another hour before they’re all showing up here with questions,” Eddie said breathlessly.

He pulled back to look at Steve, both of them flush with sudden relief that it was no longer a secret. He leaned in to kiss him once on the corner of his mouth, smiling when he felt Steve’s lips turn up.

“I love you,” Eddie whispered.

“Even though I made you wait to tell everyone?” Steve sounded unsure suddenly, like maybe Eddie would retract everything.

“You didn’t make me do anything, sweetheart. We both agreed to wait.” Eddie cupped his jaw and kissed him slow, much softer than where they’d left off before being interrupted.

No matter how much he enjoyed taking Steve apart, how much he liked seeing him covered in bite marks and bruises, he liked seeing him melt like this more.

“I love you,” Steve said against his lips, already letting Eddie take more of the weight he didn’t have leaning back against the wall. “Want you. Before they get here. Please.”

“How can I resist when you ask so nicely?” Eddie nipped at his bottom lip before pulling away. “Let’s go to your room this time. Don’t want any more interruptions.”

Steve nodded and led Eddie upstairs.

If the kids showed up in an hour, Eddie would make excuses for why Steve was asleep in bed, field their nosy questions, and ease some of the burden of coming out for Steve. If they didn’t, he’d get to keep showing Steve how much he loved him.

Over and over again. Until the whole world knew.

[drabblesandimagines]

Swipe Right

Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

--

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

--

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

--

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

--

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

--

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

--

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

--

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.” 

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

[velvetsainz]

summary: [ cl16 x fem!reader ] charles is away in baku and you remind him of what he's missing. part two.

word count: 1.3k

content warnings: smut under the cut (minors dni pls!), pwp, use of explicit language, phone sex, masturbation, google-translated french (lmao), a dash of fluff, i like em dashes too much

a/n: baby's first smutlet! i've been writing for like twelve years but i've never posted to tumblr, so here's to first times! there'll def be at least a part ii to this, but i'm also hoping to write for other drivers soon(ish). also giant mega thank you to @multiseb21 + @lecrep for your support—y'all have been so incredibly sweet & i am so thankful for you!! anyways, i hope y'all like this! enjoy, loves! xx

“Chérie,” his voice crooned over the line, a soft laugh leaving your lips. “Don’t tease, mon ange—it’s already hard enough being away from you for so long.”

“Weren’t you the one who said he’d be fine just a month ago?,” you retorted, voice low.  The cards were in your hands now, and Charles was desperate.  He was a nomad lost in the desert and you were his oasis on the horizon, just the sound of your voice enough to slake his thirst.

“Yes, but then you sent me that picture and—” You hear him curse again under his breath, his fist acting as a poor substitute for the velvet heat of your walls. He swore he wasn’t going to let you leave that bed once he got his hands on you again.

Charles wasn’t entirely wrong: you were the biggest fucking tease known to mankind.  Earlier that evening you sent him a semi-absentminded photo of you fresh from the shower, steam still obscuring the best parts of the photo with a fresh white towel around your hips and one gathering your hair on top of your head.  He’d always had something about you fresh from the shower—every time he’d nearly pounce as soon as you’d pad back into the bedroom from the steamy confines of the bathroom, hair wrapped on top of your head just as it was now.  (Part of you thought it was something primal in him: you’d washed away his scent on your skin and he needed to make his territory known again, that horn dog.)  Still, he was ever the gentleman and would make the endeavor more than worth your while.

“Yeah, that was pretty bad of me, wasn’t it?,” you ceded with a knowing smirk on your lips as you sat back from your desk, closing your laptop slowly.  You’d wanted to get a little more work done after your shower, but the Monégasque wasn’t keen to let sleeping dogs lie and needed to hear your voice for himself.

“So bad, chérie,” he agreed with tone of exasperation, a heavy sigh passing through the phone, “And you’re not even here to help a–”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t help in other ways,” you were quick to remind him, the words coming from your mouth quicker than your shame would force you to bottle them up.  Heat was creeping to your cheeks, and you could feel the familiar coil of desire tightening deep in the pit of your belly.

“Are you—?”

“That’s why you called, isn’t it, baby?,” you asked only to get a stifled groan from the other side. “You wanted me to tell you how I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you continued, “how I miss your hands on my hips, your cock so deep—”

“Fucking hell,” Charles practically whines as you push yourself away from the desk now, allowing yourself to relax into the seat of the chair and your hips to ease apart despite every part of you wanting to grind them together to relieve the dull ache that rested between them.

“What would you do if I was there now, Cha?,” you asked softly, hand splayed out over the plush of your thigh, eyes glazing over as you pictured him there with you.  You wanted his hands everywhere; you couldn’t decide where you truly needed him most. Fingers curling against that hidden spot in your tight cunt, threaded through your hair and pulling your head back to rest on his shoulder, gripping your thighs so tight they’d leave bruises that he’d fuss over later—it all sounded like heaven compared to the lonely hell of your shared Monte Carlo flat.

“I want to taste you, mon cœur,” he replied shakily as his breath came faster, the sound of him fisting his cock becoming more and more prominent as time passed; he wasn’t going to last long like this, but you both already knew that—it wasn’t the point of this exercise.  “I’d have you coming on my tongue, let you taste yourself when I kiss you—putain,” the driver cursed once more as his brow furrowed.  He was leaking precum over his ironclad grip and all he wanted was to slide his fingers past your plump lips to feel the wet heat of your tongue take care of the mess.

You let out a tremulous breath over the line, one you hadn’t known you’d been holding onto so tightly until your head started swimming with need.  Your hand had drifted from its origin, rubbing lazy circles over the cotton of the panties you’d slipped into after the inciting picture.  On your top half was a worn, faded shirt of Charles that you’d taken a liking to as a nightshirt—especially when you were missing him as you were so desperately now.

“Need you in me,” you begged, the emptiness you felt so acutely coming to the forefront of your senses, “You always do such a good job filling me—my fingers don’t do you justice.”

You hear a groan on the other side of the line, the man now sitting on the edge of the bed as he tries to keep himself in check.  He wasn’t ready for this to be over so soon; you had him feeling like a teenager again, ready to spill at a moment’s notice. Granted, this wasn't anything new: there's something so intoxicating about you that destroyed whatever semblance of restraint, of control he had over his lust.

“Want you in my mouth, give me something better to do than tease you like this,” to which you received a choked merde, the man hanging on your every word as the hand between your legs abandoned its objective—you could take care of that later.  You were too caught in every little sound that passed his plush lips, listening for every little cue his body so willingly gave you.

“Want your hands in my hair, guiding me up and down your cock,” you keened for him on a whine, his breathing heavy and labored.  He was running at full speed to the cliff's edge, and you were there watching, waiting in the grass. “Want your cum on my tongue, baby,” you whined.

“Promise not to waste any, minette?,” he grunted, gritting his teeth as you hummed your assurances.  “Such a good girl f’me, yes–”

With a strained hiss and a groan he came sloppily over his hand, thankful enough that he wasn’t home in Monaco so he didn’t have to worry about cleaning up the mess he’d made. “Fuck,” he croaked, breathing heavy as he came down from the blinding high your words had catapulted him through.  It wasn’t like he hadn’t been taking care of business when duty called, but something about your voice, the thought of you there…it clutched everything into a higher gear.

“Better?,” you asked, sly smile audible to the Ferrari driver; he didn’t need to see you to know the shit-eating, satisfied smile that took over your lips.

With a tired laugh he nodded, slumping back onto the cool rumpled sheets of the hotel bed as he stared absently at the dark ceiling.  It was three in the morning in Baku, and he couldn’t sleep—the thoughts your cheeky picture had invited wouldn’t let him.

“Get some rest, tiger,” you teased him, knowing he’d have to be awake in a few short hours. You debated sending him another picture in the morning as motivation, tiding him over until you’d join him later that weekend.

“Que ferais-je sans toi, mon amour?,” he asked, sleep heavy in his voice as he rolled the right way onto the bed and running a hand through his hair.  He’d deal with the mess he’d made in the morning along with the flowers he’d send you—he really didn’t know what he’d do without you.

“I guess we’ll never know, hm?,” you replied gently, smile melting into something softer as you fiddled with the gleaming ring on your left hand.

[f1fantasys]

Could you write something about Lando and reader going to diner with another driver of the grid and they’d be teasing each other under the table and later at home they’d get caught doing things? ;D love your writing btw

Thanks for this anon. I changed it slightly to getting caught in the car, not at home! Hope you still enjoy it xx

Teasers In Trouble

Warnings - swearing, smut, minors DNI, p in v, fingers, blowjob

It was the last race before summer break so it was safe to say everyone in the paddock was buzzing with excitement. Before jumping into the car for FP2, Lando had told you that you'd both be having dinner with Oscar and Lily later, and as fun as that sounded, you honestly wanted a night in with Lando so he could fuck you left right and center. You had been horny for him all day and now you'd have to wait a little while longer til he could take you.

So here you were in your hotel room trying to find something to wear tonight while Lando was in the shower. You normally would have joined him but you decided against it, because why start something you couldn't finish. So you tried to busy yourself and avoid looking at Lando as he emerged from the bathroom wrapped in just his towel.

But of course, you failed. How could you not look when he was stood in front of you - hair messy, eyes looking at you like you're his world - which in his defence, you are - muscles hard and dripping with water, not to mention what you knew was hiding behind his towel.

You didn't realize you were staring until he started speaking.

''Baby are you ok? You've been out of sorts all day'' he questioned you. He really was oblivious to the fact that you were horny because you were never one to hold back - if you wanted him, you'd take him. So he was confused to say the least.

''Peachy'' you said, turning around and going back to what you were doing.

What he didn't miss though, was the way you clenched your thighs together through your incredibly tight leggings you were wearing right now. That made him catch on to what was going on. He smiled to himself and thought, ''game on''

Lando dropped his towel on the spot and walked over to his suitcase, which was next to yours, bending down to take out his clothes.

The sight of his dick springing up and down through the corners of your eyes had your heart skipping a beat as all the air left your lungs.

It's what he did next though that had you literally dripping from your core.

He stood back up and without paying any attention to you, took his cock in his hands and pumped himself a few times before tugging his boxes and jeans on, leaving you somewhat drooling from your mouth.

As much as you wanted to jump him then and there, you busied yourself again, trying to think about anything but his dick.

Finally though, once you were ready and about to walk out the door hand in hand, Lando roughly pushed you against the wall.

''Gonna tell me what you want? Or gonna be a brat?'' he asked.

You cheeks immediately flushed and you couldn't help but lean forward and engulf him in a heated kiss, both your tongues quickly battling for dominance while Lando bit on your lower lip and you moaned into his mouth.

''Needed you all fucking day'' you said through gritted teeth between breaths.

''I know baby. Gonna help you now, yeah?''

You wondered what he was gonna do now, considering your dinner dates were already waiting for you at the restaurant.

But you confusion quickly vanished when Lando held up a pair of vaginal balls.

You gasped. ''Lando!'' and all he did was cheekily smile and lift you dress up to slip his hand in your panties.

''Where did you even get them?'' you whispered, trying to suppress your moans when he ran his fingers through you folds and slipped one in your entrance.

''Don't worry about that. Just let me put them in.''

You bit your lip as he lowered himself to his knees and slowly inserted the balls in your vagina as you pulled on his hair.

''Oh fuck me'' you quivered, the sensations giving you a bit of relief after the day you've had.

''Trust me, I plan to. But for now, these will have to do'' Lando said before standing up and licking his fingers, giving you a peck and pulling you out the door.

You tried to walk as normal as possible, and you tried as hard as you could to keep the blush off your face as you Lando approached Lily and Osc.

Once you were seated at the restaurant you were grateful to be in a booth, so you could squirm without anyone really noticing.

If you were going to get through this dinner though, you needed a bit of alcohol in your system. So you ordered a glass of red wine and hoped for the best.

You tried. You really tried to listen to what Lily was saying and take interest in a conversation but honestly, you were fucking bored and you could think of a thousand different things you could be doing right now.

Lando wasn't helped either. His hand had found your thigh, as usual, but he was itching closer and closer to your cunt. He pushed your dress up a little and let his fingers slip past your panties to dive into the pool of wetness you had going on.

You breath hitched and you could feel a blush creep up on your cheeks as you tried to remember what Lily had asked you until your boyfriend distracted you.

''Y/n are you okay? Lily asked.

''Yeah all good'' you chuckled, trying to keep as neutral as possible. ''Just a bit stuffy in here'' you said, voice quavering slightly.

Lando was being a tease and he knew it. He was so engrossed in a deep conversation with Oscar while he was making a mess of you.

So, naturally, you decided to play him back. Your hand found his knee and inch by inch crept closer to wear his manhood was. As soon as you palmed him through his jeans you felt him get hard, and now he was the one squirming in his seat.

When Lily and Osc were looking at their menu's for what to order for dessert, Lando leaned down to your ear and whispered ''Tease me again and I won't let you cum" before pecking you innocently.

''Fuck you Lan. If you won't let me cum i won't give you the blow job you so deserve for looking so fucking hot today'' you spat back, smirking at him and cupping his cock through his jeans again.

He's eyes darkened when you said that, heat rising to his cheeks.

You knew you both wouldn't last the ride back to the hotel, and just the thought of riding him in the sports car he had rented was doing things to you. Not to mention he slipped two fingers into your cunt, fiddling with the balls, having to suppress your moans so you instead bit the inside of your cheek until you could taste blood.

''I don't think I want anything for dessert. Actually wanna get back to the hotel to talk to Jon about tomorrow. Babe?'' he directed to you?

''Hmm?'' you said, slightly flustered.

''Dessert?''

''Oh no I'm good. Too full'' you said, trying to sound as decent as possible.

You didn't miss how Lily and Osc shared knowing looks, but you didn't care.

Not 10 minutes later and you and Lando were walking out the restaurant and to the car, before he pulled you into an alley way and kissed you ferociously.

''Fuck y/n, you don't know what you're doing to me tonight. Just remember - you asked for it. So don't sulk when you can't walk into the paddock tomorrow morning'' he said through breaths.

''Lan please, need to feel you, now!'' you moaned into the kiss again.

He dragged you to the car, which was parked in a secluded place for security, before pulling you on his lap and shutting the door.

In no time your dress was being ripped off your body, literally in two pieces.

''Fuck Lan!'' you shrieked, watching as your boobs were exposed to his dark eyes right away since you didn't wear a bra.

He lowered his mouth to your peaked nipples and sucked on them, tugged at them, all while you were a moaning mess, fiddling with his belt to set his aching hard dick free.

When you finally managed too free his constraints, you started grinding on it, moving slickly over him to create the friction you so desperately needed, only it felt better than ever because the balls inside you were sitting just right spots.

In minutes your body was trembling over him, his strong arms having to hold you tight so you don't go out of control.

''Lan oh my fuck. Feels amazing'' you said, moaning out his name.

Lando reached down and toyed with your clit, riding you through your orgasm before he roughly entered two fingers in your cunt and pulled at the balls, creating a feeling like no other.

He pulled the balls out and put one on them in his mouth, sucking at it. You watched as the other dangled down his chin and couldn't help but lean forward and take it into your own mouth, tasting yourself.

That earned you a delicious moan from Lando who was now pumping his aching cock in his hands, running it through your folds and slick juices.

While you both kept the balls in your mouths, you lifted yourself up to let Lando line himself at your entrance before you sank down on him, bottoming out.

The feeling back both of you groaning in each others' face, breathing each others' air in as your held Lando's face in your hands.

You started bouncing on him vigorously, your walls clenching around him almost painfully when he started to kiss you again, tongue slipping into your mouth.

''Y/n, so tight. So fuckin tight. Taking me so well. That's it baby''

You sucked on his tongue hard, stealing a the most delicious moans from him as you continued to fuck him shamelessly.

In no time you felt the familiar warmth start to build up in your lower tummy.

''Lan, I'm close. Gonna cum'' you managed to say.

''Let go for me angel. I've made you wait all day. Spill on my cock. Come on'' he edged you on.

And so you did. You came violently around him, a moaning mess as he latched his mouth back onto your nipples to ride you through your orgasm.

You body went limb in his arms and now Lando had to buck his hips up to fuck into you to chase your own release.

Until a knock on the window literally had you halting your movements in fear of who it was and what they must have heard.

''Fuck'' Lando muttered.

You both looked to the window and saw none other than Oscar standing there.

''Oh fuck me'' Lando squealed again, starting the car to open the window slightly.

''Yeah mate what do you want'' he threw at Oscar, who's eyes flew open when he saw you sitting on Lando's lap. Luckily it was too dark for him to see anything else but he obviously caught on to what was happening.

In the mean time your walls were clenching painfully around Lando and he couldn't help but stifle a few moans.

''Oscar!'' Lando practically yelled.

''Shit. Was leaving and saw your car still parked, wanted to make sure you're good'' he said, still a shocked expression on his face.

''Yeah I'm fucking more than good, so jog on'' Lando threw at him before closing the window and bucking his hips up into you, not caring if Oscar heard your moans through the window.

With no warning you came again, releasing all around Lando which in turn sent him over the edge, milking your walls with his warm cum, groaning your name in your ear.

''Fucking hell'' he said as you continued to ride him through his orgasm, dick softening inside of you.

When he pulled out you reached down to your folds and scooped the mixture of yours and his cum. You pryed his mouth open with your other hand and shoved your fingers into his mouth, moaning when he sucked them dry.

''Not gonna hear the end of this from Osc are we?'' you said, chuckling at him.

''Yeah, probably scarred the boy for life.''

''Poor Lily ain't getting anything tonight'' you laughed.

''You're so fucking incredible'' he cooed.

''I am, and I'm not done with you'' you said, climbing off him into the passenger seat.

You did end up giving him the blowjob you'd been eager to give him all day, and it goes without saying he fucked you twice more back at the hotel.