#ROLLING AROUND TUMBLING OFF MY BED

[whateveriwant]

Not With a Bang but a Whimper

Summary: Simon has a tendency to be quiet in bed. But maybe, just maybe, you can get him to break his silent streak for once.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: language, SMUT 18+ (vaginal sex)

A/N: Hello! So we all agree that Ghost's voice is hot, right? And so the thought of him moaning; the filth he'd grunt in your ear… Ugh, I just had to write a little something that would scratch that itch Ghost inflicts on my brain. As always, I hope you enjoy! :)

There's something about the darkness, the vast visual emptiness, that heightens all of one's other senses.

The tang of sweat. The scratch of sheets. The rhythmic, wet thwapthwapthwap of skin against skin.

They all come together to create a harmonious symphony of the flesh that overrides the benefit of sight, though you're sure that wouldn't detract. 

And it's perfect, really. All of it. You wouldn't change a single, microscopic detail. Except, well… Perhaps…

Simon's breath fans warm across your face, a shaky exhale that hardly sounds as it passes through his lips. There's an intake, a pointed swallow, the thick gulp of exchanged air, but then not half a second later he's right back to it – a grave-like silence worthy of his namesake.

In all the time you've been together, you've never known Simon to be a very talkative man. Sure, once he's comfortable around someone, he tends to open himself up more. But for the most part, he's never been one to speak beyond that which is necessary – a fact you'd long known and come to accept. And yet, despite this truth, somehow, you would've never predicted the Ghost's deathly silence extended to the bedroom as well.

Aside from harried breaths and the occasional throaty grunt, Simon might as well be a mute for how much sound he emits whilst between the sheets. And beyond those baser noises, what few words he has said have always been blunt; directional. 'Roll over. Hands here. Arse up.' and the like.

Of course, the case could be made that you make enough noise for the both of you combined – a circumstance you know Simon doesn't mind one bit. But still, hearing Simon's own unsuppressed enthusiasm is a fantasy you've not yet made reality, a dream you haven't seen come true.

But who says you won't ever?

A deep thrust has your back bowing off the bed, your mouth falling open in an airy moan. Another drive forward and you're clenching eagerly around him, restless hands kneading the wide, muscled expanse of his shoulders. 

In and out, deliberate and methodical, he drags his thick cock along your walls. Gradually, mind-numbingly, the even tempo of his hips stokes a heat within your belly, and you try arching up to meet him, building the flames higher and higher.

As you rock, a low, droning moan tumbles past your parted lips, underlining the measured creaks of the bedsprings, the noisy rattle of the headboard. Simon hits a spot within you that leaves you gasping, panting, and your desperate hands seek purchase higher, sliding up the sweat-slicked line of his neck. 

Reaching the soft, damp hairs of his exposed nape, your fingers find home, threading carelessly through the tousled strands at the back of Simon's head. Another drive of his hips has you inadvertently tugging downwards, and suddenly, as he's pulled towards you, you hear the sweetest noise flowing past your ears.

A groan.

Just a small one, hardly above a whisper, but it's rich and it's coarse and it's oh-so-deliciously-deep.

But before it can swell to something more, Simon's burying his face in the top of your chest, smothering the sound to extinction. 

No! Not again. Not if you can help it.

"Simon," you whine, lifting his head back up to yours. Though you can't quite make out his eyes in the darkness, you know he can still see you; still read you plain as day. "Please. W-Wanna hear you. Let— Let me hear you."

Maybe it's pointless – maybe it's pathetic – but you'll never know if you don't at least try.

Unfortunately, he remains woefully quiet despite your pleas – a few desperate cries not enough to dismantle years of practiced silence. Either that or he just wants to hear you beg some more, which you wouldn't necessarily put past him, but you hope he's not so cruel when you're this wanting.

Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you bring him even closer, lips brushing aching lips. You just want him to let go, to break free from whatever's holding him back, to shrug off those internal bonds keeping his voice hostage.

"Let it out, Si. Please." Please please please please please.

Unthinkingly, you squeeze your grip tighter, pressing your nails down just enough to pinch. Honest to God, it was unintentional on your part, but then suddenly, miraculously, euphorically, it's like the floodgates open all at once.

An unfiltered moan rolls through Simon's throat – low and timorous at first, just edging past reluctant, before it rises in intensity, volume steadily increasing, ultimately peaking in a stuttered curse.

"Oh, fffuck," Simon husks to himself, thighs clapping firmly against the cradle of your legs. "Fuck, pet, y— you're—" his words dissolve as you clamp down around him, the keening sound of your voice mingling with his own.

The moment Simon let down his restraints, your reaction was near-instantaneous – skin prickling, toes curling, hairs standing at full attention. This, THIS, is what you've been waiting for – for Simon to reveal what's been hidden beneath that hardened shell of his. And it's so much better than you ever possibly imagined.

Simon grabs at you hungrily, like now that he's let loose, he can't get enough of you. "Feel so fuckin' good. So fuckin' wet." He snaps his hips a little bit faster, emphasizing the obscene squelch of your cunt.

Already you can tell you're addicted to this new side of him; it's honestly embarrassing how a minor change can make you unravel so quickly. Well, at least, you would be embarrassed if you could find the strength to care. Or really, find the strength to feel anything other than surging, dripping ecstasy.

A calloused, firm thumb makes its way to your clit, and a sharp cry bursts forth from your chest, your head craning way back. Simon nips at your jaw as he circles his thumb expertly, swirling your slick around and around until you're trembling beneath him.

"That feel good, yeah? That what you like?" he questions, perhaps with double meaning.

As you try to speak, you find you've lost your voice in the process of Simon recovering his own. Thus, all you can do is nod emphatically, hitching your legs up higher on his hips to urge him on.

You feel him chuckle against your throat at your nonverbal response. Clearly, he's enjoying himself as much as you are, the cheeky Brit.

Your tongue is utterly paralyzed as you let Simon unleash on you, only able to let out small squeaks and strangled whines as you take the full force of his vigor. Your hips pang, thighs ache, and stomach clenches as he slams into you over and over again. The smack of his balls against your ass carries shamelessly throughout the room – the sound loud and obnoxiously wet as he sticks to the juices running down your rear.

"This messy little cunt's fuckin' gushin' all over me. Think you're ruinin' the sheets, pet," he teases darkly.

Another several flicks of your clit has your core tightening tellingly, walls pulsing as you feel yourself inching closer to that blissful release. Simon must also sense your impending finish because he tries adjusting his approach, and you almost sob as he suddenly pulls his hand away, frustrated at the loss of contact. But then he's pressing flat against you, grinding his pelvis along your throbbing, swollen clit, and your cry of anguish quickly morphs to one of unbridled ecstasy.  

Snaking both hands beneath your shoulders, Simon grips the base of your skull, pushing your sweaty foreheads together as he goes to speak against your mouth. "Christ, you're gonna make me cum," his breathing is choppy; stunted. "S'gonna be a big one, I can feel it." The bed jolts as he picks up his pace.

Strings of whispered expletives weave with broken moans and animalistic grunts, creating a salacious melody that overlays the sound of him taking you apart piece by sopping piece.

You're seconds away from shattering, heat flooding every nerve and vein. The only thing stopping you from falling over the edge already is your want to milk this for every second that you can. But ultimately, you can't hold on forever, and neither can he.

"M'close," Simon huffs, movements turning sloppy. "Can I… inside?" he asks without presumption.

Your tongue still feels like lead as it droops lopsided in your mouth. But you'll try to find your voice again for him, just so there's no confusion.

"Y-Yes," you whisper, more ragged than anticipated. You try swallowing but it's punctured by a whimper, your legs beginning to shake as you feel the endorphins flowing through you. The rising crescendo has you quivering, thighs squeezing him tight, and soon, you can't stop the words from pouring out, bleeding together until you're an incoherent mess. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes—!" 

All at once, everything comes crashing over you, leaving your body spasming, brain buzzing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You claw ferociously at Simon's back as you reach your climax, and you bring him over the crest with you, feeling his harsh, stuttered thrusts as he empties deep inside.

You're almost certain you hear a growl as he spills into you, but you can't be totally sure over the ringing in your ears, hardly able to recognize your own euphoric wails.

You ride out the cascading wave of your orgasm until you're boneless, breathless. Even as you start to wind down, it's like you're detached from your body – skin tingling, limbs numbing, chest heaving uncontrollably. You're still shaking as the fog over your senses slowly lifts, and it's only as you register Simon still moving within you that you come back to yourself fully. 

He gives a last few lazy thrusts, pushing his cum even deeper, before he's spent and slumping down, leaning on you heavily. His weight is smothering as he rests on top of you, like an anvil's been dropped on your chest. For a moment, you think he's going to snuff out the remaining air in your lungs, but then he raises up on his elbows, letting you both take a much-needed breath. 

With a choked gasp, Simon slips out of you, a similar noise escaping you as you feel his cum drip from your pussy. He flops face down on the bed, the harsh sounds of his breathing muffled by the pillows. It's another few beats until you feel somewhat collected yourself, and even then your mind is still reeling, replaying what just happened.

Holy shit. That. Was. Incredible. You didn't expect Simon letting loose to be like that, and already, you're eager to experience it again.

"You… should do that… more often," you say deliriously, earning a rumbling chuckle from the man beside you. With a little difficulty, you roll over to face him, your sensitive folds brushing together as you turn. You're just able to make out his silhouette in the dim, and you see how he shakes his head to himself, then peeks up at you from the pillow. 

"You're a greedy little minx, aren't you?" he mocks.

"For you?" You reach over, brushing your fingers through his hair. "Always." He exhales what sounds like an amused breath at your comment, your hand coming back down to rest by your side. "So… 10 minutes? I should be good to go again." That earns a heartier laugh from Simon, though you're not making a joke, the heat still roiling in the pit of your stomach.

He shakes his head again before shifting on his side to mirror you. "At least let me grab a shower and a bite first. I'm not a bloody robot." 

Oh, you're well aware of that. Machines don't feel nearly that good.

But before you get a chance to retort, a swift peck to your lips cuts off anything you intend to say. You lean into the kiss, pressing your palms to his slick chest, but aren't able to get carried away before you feel him pull back.

You sigh begrudgingly. Alright, fine. You guess you can afford him a short break to recover, but no longer than half an hour before you're dragging him back for round 2.

Simon must notice your reluctant acceptance because he chuckles once more, lightly tapping his hand on your hip. "Tell you what. I'll let you join me in the bath if you can keep your hands to yourself."

You nearly scoff at the offer, brows scrunching in annoyance. He knows that's an impossible feat for you. It'd be like dangling a prized carrot right in front of your nose and expecting you to do nothing but lick your lips and stare.

Simon again snorts amusedly as he rolls to exit the bed. "Figured as much. You'll just have to wait then, pet."

You're about to argue with him when he suddenly hauls himself to his feet. He groans as his back cracks loudly in protest, another grunt as his knees pop one after the other. More gruff noises escape him as he walks stiffly towards the bathroom, joints creaking and crackling with every other step he takes.

The noises erupting from his mouth almost sound exaggerated on purpose, like he's trying to exactly mimic the ones from earlier – the ones that had you melting mere minutes ago.  

"Okay, now you're just torturing me!" you accuse half-heartedly, pressing your sticky thighs together to quell the hollow feeling inside. He's riling you up on purpose because he knows you just have to sit there and take it!

"The only torture here is my bloody joints," Simon calls over his shoulder, planting one heavy foot in front of the next. "'S half your fault my knees 've been shot to shit anyway," he grunts. Half the blame to the military, half to missionary, you suppose. 

His lack of acknowledgement to your plight has you huffing loudly, blowing out a harrumph through pouty lips. In response, Simon clicks his tongue in soft admonishment, unswayed by your whiny tones.

"Quiet," he chides, not bothering to look back at you. "Couple more years and I'll be lucky if I don't yell every fuckin' step," he says, though you figure he's just being hyperbolic. As he's just about to duck through the door, leaving you to your own devices, you hear him grumble, more to himself than to you, "Then I'd really give you somethin' to cry about."

Forced to wallow alone in your own self-pity, you roll onto your back with a sigh. Maybe Simon's right. Maybe you should just be content with what you have. You've already gotten so much more from him tonight than you ever have before. Maybe you shouldn't push too hard.

As you hear the faucet crank on, water pelting tile, you can't help how Simon's last words almost echo through your mind. 'I'd really give you somethin' to cry about,' he'd warned, dark and low. Though he meant it as a threat, and though you know it's your sex-clouded brain getting carried away, those words coming from that voice have you damn near trembling, but not out of fear. And as you lie in bed naked, staring up at the darkened ceiling above, all you can do is grasp at your messy sheets and think to yourself…

You kind of like the sound of that.

__________

A/N: I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

[surielstea]

Hangovers & tattoos

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader wakes up in Azriel’s bed with a mysterious tattoo that eerily matches his.

Warnings: slightly suggestive, all silly fluff though

2.4k words

Sunlight streamed through the open curtains haphazardly, my brows twitching together as I groggily pulled myself from the depths of sleep.

I awake with a groan, rubbing at my eyes that had been sealed shut. As soon as I open them I'm met with a horrible pound to my head, my entire body aching with every movement I make. I rolled onto my stomach, stuffing my head in the cold pillows with a huff.

I had to make an effort to peel my tongue from the roof of my mouth as I settled over the fact that going back to sleep would not be an option.

I twist onto my side, staring at a winged figure with his head against my pillows, dark hair cascading over his eyes. I smile at the sight of Azriel sleeping so peacefully. Then I realize he's sleeping so peacefully, in my bed. I jolt, scrambling away from his sleeping figure and inevitably tumbling off the mattress.

I hit the ground with a hard thud, followed by my hiss of pain as the hardwood sends paralyzing shock waves throughout my entire body.

Before I can collect myself I hear an incoherent mumble that came from the Shadow Singer. I tense, bending down to avoid being caught sneaking around in my own bedroom.

"Are you alright princess?" His voice was deeper than usual, still filled with sleep. I freeze for a moment, wondering how he had managed to know it was me, even if he did see me he was still half asleep. Then I quickly void that thought and curse myself for not thinking about his shadows, the same dark tendrils that were now twining around my ankles.

"I'm fine," Is all I can manage.

"Gods, my head is pounding," He grits out and I'm unsure if I should get back up onto the bed or stay down on the ground out of his sight, where I felt much safer.

Last night... it had been a blur entirely, the only thing I can remember is Cassian handing me and Azriel our first shot of the night, followed by many, many more. I clench my eyes shut, attempting to fish anything more from the night before out but I come up blank. "We didn't uh... did we?" I murmur, the pregnant silence is heavy as he thinks over the dilemma.

"Are you sore?" He says and I roll my eyes at his arrogance.

"No," I scoff.

"Then no, we didn't," He hums.

That hadn't been good enough, so I looked down at my outfit, a sigh of relief leaving me as I realized I was still wearing the same underwear from last night.

Last night when I seemed to obtain a case of amnesia. Cassian and Azriel had invited me to go out, Mor tagged along, and then... nothing. I had no idea why Azriel was in my bed or what drunk decisions I made to get that to happen.

Slowly, I rise from the floor and rush towards my wardrobe, still dressed in the short glittery dress I had boldly picked last night.

"What are you doing?" He rubs at his eyes, staring at me as I begin to take off the straps of my dress. I froze, realizing he was still there.

This headache wasn't making our situation any better.

"Changing?" I say, looking down at my rumpled outfit.

"This is my room," He said, sitting up from the pillows, the sheets falling off of him and revealing his bare chest, toned with rippling muscle. I swallow thickly, glancing around the room that was now so obviously not mine. I nearly crumbled from embarrassment, my cheeks tinging a scarlet red.

"Right, sorry, I'll go," I sidestep towards the door and his dark brows crease.

"Wait," He calls, slipping from the warm sheets I had gotten such amazing sleep in, and follows me to the door. "I'll make you breakfast, as a thank you for... whatever took place last night," He glances back to the bed and then back to me.

"You don't have to," I shake my head, eager to get out of the ordeal entirely.

"I want to, c'mon," His hand makes contact with my lower back as he guides me from his bedroom and down the long hallway.

I had been crushing on the Shadow Singer for over a year now. It had been unbearable to watch him bring other girls to bed since simple one-night stands with no connection aside from physical, but still, I wish I had even that amount of relation with him. But now he’s got his hand on my back, about to make me breakfast just because we woke up in the same bed together. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to get over him if I tried.

I made coffee while he worked on breakfast, my head felt as if it was swelling into my skull, a painful feeling that stabbed into the most sensitive parts of my brain.

I softly groaned as I poured a heaping spoonful of sugar into my steaming cup. I left Azriel's mug unattended, knowing he preferred the bitterness of it while I simply drank it for the caffeine, wanting to get rid of the taste altogether.

A low whistle sounds from down the hall, paired with a heavy set of footsteps that were unmistakably Cassian's. "Morning you two," The male said as soon as he spotted Azriel and us silently moving through the kitchen.

"Morning," Azriel grumbles but I can't even function enough to manage a reply. Cassian's hulking figure brushes past me and toward Azriel, where he had been by the stove. "Hands off," Azriel spat, and I hadn't been watching but I could only assume Cassian was attempting to steal from the pan while Azriel swatted him away.

"Hey, I didn't know you got a new tattoo," Cassian gasps and I whirl around to look at the two males, my eyes narrowing on a sketch of ink over the Shadow Singers' fourth finger, swirling down onto the back of his palm and wrapping up his wrist. Azriel looks at it as if he's never seen it before, his brows twitching together. Cassian gasps again and we look at him with expectant expressions, waiting for him to explain.

"That's a mating ceremony tattoo," He mumbled beneath his breath. Azriel’s eyes snapped to me like he had something to confess.

"A what?" I nearly choke on my own air. Mating? If Azriel was mated already there was no way in hel I'd ever have a chance. I knew I shouldn't have waited so long for him to ask me out, knew I should’ve asked him myself and faced rejection.

"A mating tattoo, matching with your significant other, you get them during the ceremony," He explains as if we genuinely hadn’t known what a mating tattoo is.

"That's ridiculous, I think I'd remember mating with someone, I wouldn't even know where to begin to find someone like that," Azriel scoffs, eyes now avoiding me at all costs and glancing up at the ceiling, to the stove where he had been cooking.

"Well then I suppose we need to find who has the matching tattoo," Cassian hums, then dramatically gasps louder than his last two, pulling his hands from his pockets and inspecting his unmarked hands.

"Oh thank gods," Azriel sighed in relief with a heavily sarcastic tone when recognizing that Cassian's hands were bare of ink.

"Cass be serious, you'd know if it was you," I argue, rolling my eyes at his idiocracy.

"You'd be able to feel something like that," I bring up my hands to show him.

“Az would probably know himself—" I start but I quickly cut myself off when I notice a black smudge on the bottom of my ring finger.

I flip my hands around and stare at them intently. The black tattoo on my left hand embedded into my skin as if it's always been there, and now that I knew I swore it pulsed with life. I ran my finger over it, then began to frantically rub at it, wondering if it’ll come off, if this was all some sick joke. But it remained, and then all of it came crashing down on me.

Mated tattoos. Mated. Azriel and I are mated.

"You're my," I couldn't even get the word out. "My," I breathed through the word, staring down at my hand, black ink wrapping around my wrist, up the back of my palm with swirls and wisps of black until twining around my ring finger entirely. Mine was much lighter than his, more delicate, but the same pattern nonetheless.

He held his hand out towards me, palm facing mine. I tentatively met it with my own, settling my palm against his, his hand much, much larger than mine yet somehow the tattoos had matched up, each line on my skin swirling into one on his.

"Gods, how drunk were we last night?" I sigh, a line coming between my brows.

I pull my hand away from his despite the magnetic force pushing us together telling me not to. "I'm going to leave you two to it," Cassian slowly removes himself from the uncomfortable situation.

"Wait, do you remember anything?" I whirl around to face him. He looks between us, and then his eyes go wide, staring at neither of us but rather what's between us, a golden tether tying our souls, binding them beyond just connection.

"Maybe ask Mor," He rubbed at the back of his head, and I knew with the movement that his hangover had been just as horrid as mine.

"Thanks anyway Cass," I mumble and he nods before excusing himself down the hall.

I slowly turned back to my coffee which was no longer steaming.

It was an effort to even swallow, the silence between us thick with tension, filled entirely with questions that don't have answers, and answers to questions we were too afraid to ask.

"So, mates, that's pretty cool," I mumbled beneath my breath and a smile curved at his lips, attempting to suppress the grin but ultimately failing.

"This is absurd," He shakes his head with a chuckle. "Shouldn't you be taken by The Frenzy?" I wonder, glancing over to him. He swallows and I watch as his throat bobs with effort, avoiding my gaze.

"Oh, I am,"

"What do you mean?" I spin around to face him, my mug cupped in my hands as I stare at him curiously.

"I hadn't noticed it at first, it's kind of how I always feel," He confesses and my brows crease, my confusion doubling over.

"Towards you I mean, I've known we're mates for a while now," His admission nearly makes me choke on my coffee.

"You didn't— why didn't you tell me?" I stutter, placing my cup down before I drop it. He had known all this time? Hasn't he picked up on the hints I had been attempting to give him? Or had he been dragging me along in fear I'd reject the bond?

"I would've told you sooner if I knew you'd find out like this," He gestures between us, at the golden line tethering my core to his I realize. "It's unfair," He adds.

"What is?"

"You were drunk, you didn't get to choose to accept it with good conscience," He explains with a sigh, my new mate clearly in distress about the events he could've avoided if he just confessed a day earlier. "And now you can't reject it, and I feel like I somehow forced it upon you," His hands fall to his sides in defeat and my heart softens. And maybe it was the power of the mating bond that gave me the confidence to take a step forward and grab his tattooed hand with my own.

"Azriel," I start, lacing his fingers through mine. "I would never have rejected you," I confess, looking into his eyes with only truth in my gaze. He stared for a moment, taking my words for what they promised.

"But we're friends," He argued, afraid we just ruined something that was already good, and I had known the feeling well for the past few years. But now I knew he felt the same way, and there were no longer any doubts I had about us being together.

"Did you only have feelings for me because you knew we were mates?" I tilt my head, taking another brave step forward.

"I uh— no, I liked you before," He stumbled over his sentence and a smile tugged at my lips at the effect I had on him when I got closer, my chest coming to press against his and he didn't move, we stand in the middle of the kitchen, not worried about the rest of the world around us.

"Good, we're even then," I nod.

"Even?" He arches a perfect brow.

"I liked you before, too," I confess and his eyes widen only a fraction, but it was a large reaction from the stoic Spymaster nonetheless.

"So, is it okay if I kiss you?" He asked quietly as if this was a forbidden act. Two mates kissing, so simple, yet held so much meaning.

"Yes Az, it's okay if you kiss me," I consent with a soft smile and he mirrors it, tentatively leaning in as he presses his lips to mine.

Something blooms in the pit of my stomach, something that's always been sprouting there but never had the nutrients to grow. Though, as he kissed me everything had felt so complete, like a puzzle piece I had been trying to solve for years slotting into place.

He pulls back and I think to follow him but instead, I allow the separation and look up at him with a bashful smile. His eyes are glazed over with something I haven't seen before, a mix of adoration and lust. He presses his lips to mine again, this time more confidently with little hesitation as he cups my jaw in one of his hands while the other wraps around my waist, pulling me into him.

"You feel The Frenzy now?" I whisper against his lips and he nods eagerly. "It's fucking, painful," He sighs, needing me closer, so much closer. "There's only one way to fix that, hm?" I taunt and his grin turns wolfish. "You're sure Princess?" He arches a brow and I now with a willing smirk. "Please," I hum, pecking up the side of his jaw.

With that, he swooped me up into his arms and practically winnowed us back to his bedroom, making me giggle in both delight and surprise as we landed hard on the bed I woke up in this morning.

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[pseudowho]

As usual, I have no one to talk about this but... Have you seen those "mom instincts are cool, but let's talk about dad reflexes for a sec" vids???

Kento with dad reflexes? (Pretty sure he already has it when he's single or even in canon when Yuji is accompanying him in missions lmao)

I'm just in my bed giggling, kicking my feet because I can imagine him having those like when his baby girl would trip and he moves so FAST to catch her 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 man idk where I'm going with this it's just making me go skkdkddkdjd

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The footsteps were slow, slick, echoing-- considered. At this stage, Kento didn't know if he and Yuuji were being hunted, or if they were the hunters. He suspected both.

The mansion fell apart around them, broken pipes lazily spewing sewage and muck. Kento felt the softly yielding floorboards beneath his feet, aware that if he wasn't careful, the second floor would very quickly become the first floor and--

"Oi, Nanamin!" Bounding, youthful footsteps hopped up beside Kento, who felt and heard the repercussions up the walls, the crack in the floorboards, the imminent collapse--

With the barest flash of movement, the floor beneath Yuuji's feet was missing, and Yuuji hung by his collar in Kento's iron grip, slowly rotating in the air as floorboards rumbled away with distant clatters. Otherwise, silence. A mildly dismayed hum from Kento, as he twizzled his blade in his other hand.

"Wow, Nanamin! Good refle--"

"Please make sure I do not have to use them, Itadori-kun."

"Ah...yeah."

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Curse-killing on a moving Subway train in the middle of the night wasn't the sort of overtime Kento needed...but when he heard the mission had been given to you, and you alone, he felt a sickening twist of anxiety in his gut. Not that you knew how he felt.

Kento bridled with incandescent rage, seeing you tumble down the rattling carriage, pinballing between poles and seats. Your fatal blow to this filthy Curse was not fatal quickly enough.

"Come on! It's dead, time to--" Kento's call was cut short, sensing imminent disaster as you kicked the door through on the opposite end of the carriage, and the Curse staggered into the walls, making the carriage list sideways, making you list sideways at the open door in your bullet-shot speed through this gloomy tunnel--

All at once, you felt yourself falling from the moving train, rolling and tumbling but wrapped up in something so warm that smelled so good.

You rolled to a stop, still full-body bear-hugged by Kento. You lay under him for a moment, face to chest through the torn off buttons of his shirt. He unfolded you with a soft sigh, hands and knees planted either side of your head and hips.

"Wow, Kento. Good refle--"

"Dinner, I--...we should go out for dinner."

"Oh. Like...now?"

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Daddy, watch this--"

One little blonde girl, suspended and giggling upside down, caught. Kento, sighing, holding her by her ankle by the tree she was almost certainly too small to climb.

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

"Jump, jump, jump, jump, ju--"

A full-suited barrel-roll across the living room, a near-miss with a tiny head and a coffee table corner. The boy peered sheepishly up at his daddy, whose narrow brown eyes glowered down in silent disapproval.

"Daddy, I was jumpi--"

"Hush. Be more careful."

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

"I'll race you--"

"No, I'm winning I'M WINNING I'M---"

A flash of movement. One little boy and one little girl, hunched over and suspended by the backs of their jeans, spinning and surprised.

Kento grunted once, loaded down with shopping bags, hooking the boot of the car up with one foot, his keys between his teeth. He spat his keys onto the seat.

A truck barrelled past, its driver certainly not looking for little people. Kento grunted again, dropping children and shopping bags.

"Do not-- I repeat, do not run in the car park."

"...sorry daddy."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You reached out towards Kento, seeing something glimmer in the honey-blond of his hair. His hand snapped up, grasping yours reflexively round the wrist. He let go immediately, apologetic.

"Sorry, I--...rough day with the kids." You smiled, stroking his cheek, and he leaned into your soft palm, planting a kiss there. Your gaze wandered to his hair again. Kento raised an eyebrow at you.

"What?"

"You've, uhm...got a grey hair."

Silence. A moderately dismayed hum.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

I agree. Nanami Kento has dad reflexes.

-- Haitch xxx

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Heyy bbg 😩

How was ur dayyy, mine was ok i went shopping 😘

Whats ur favorite colorrr, i like blue 😝

How would the boyz react to breaking the bedframe during sum rough... activities 😉😏😩😳

Dont forgor to drink water and get atleast 6 hrs of sleep pls 🥺

Heyyy! I am so sorry this took me so long to start on, I went a little MIA there, lol. So of course my first post of 2024 is OM smut lol Happy 2024 everyone! Now, on to the hcs! Mature content below the cut. Warnings for Levi's section, implied monster f*ck*ng, very slight.

Lucifer

This bastard makes no secret of how proud he is to make a mess of MC.

His reaction depends on the position, if the bedframe cracks while he is on top, then he makes sure MC's safe before continuing elsewhere.

MC's barely had time to comprehend that the bedframe gave way underneath them before Lucifer is scooping them up and resuming their activities on his desk or against the wall.

"Lucifer, did we-?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, my darling. Now, sing for me~"

But. If that bed breaks while MC's on top? That is a very different story.

"Look at you, taking me so well even the bed can't take it~"

"Go on, love, do it again."

Demon does not give a shit, clasps MC's thighs and holds them up while he thrusts up to meet their hips.

He may act mildly displeased at having to buy a new bed, but that aura of pure pride rolling off him the next day is fooling no one.

Mammon

Let's face it, he's so sex-drunk he probably didn't notice. He's too busy overstimming himself to the point of tears, pretty noises pouring from his kiss-bitten lips with shameless abandon.

He's the Avatar of Greed after all, and here is his greatest treasure, all naked and pretty for the taking, giving him everything he could ever want. Why in nine circles of hell would he stop?

He'll fuck until the mattress hits the ground, or until MC tells him to stop, because he always retains enough of himself to keep them safe.

Once they're done and laying on a skewed wreck of a bed, sweat colling on their skin, that's when Mammon finally notices.

"Hey...what happened to the bed?"

MC chuckled, pressing a kiss to his brow. "You happened, baby."

His cheeks turned pink and he hid his face in their neck as though he could hide the blush from them. MC felt him grinning against their skin, until the reality struck him.

"How the fuck am I gonna explain this to Lucifer?"

Leviathan

He also wouldn't notice, but not for the reason you might think.

Usually, Levi is a very sweet lover, tends toward the submissive side and lets MC set the pace.

However...

For their lovemaking to get to the point of breaking anything, it's because Levi has gone absolutely feral.

I'm talking more demon than anything else, growling and snarling instead of whimpered, sweet moans tumbling from his lips.

You'd better believe he'll break the bed, the only thing that will stop him is MC, and if they choose not to...

He'll break a lot more than the bed.

Satan

Believe it or not, I don't actually see this happening with Satan.

He's so cautious of his wrath around MC in the bedroom that I'm no so sure he'd even be comfortable playing rough.

The most that happens with him is toppling a pile of books or something. Once, he accidently knocked into a shelf and used himself as a meat shield for MC as the avalanche came down.

That made for an awkward evening when poor Beel come to the rescue.

Asmodeus

Let's face it, if he did it, it was on purpose.

Asmodeus knows exactly what he's doing when it comes to MC's pleasure, knows exactly how to make them writhe just so that it was actually the human who let magic slip in their daze and cracked the bedpost.

The Avatar of Lust chuckled against their sex, his head buried between their thighs and his eyes alight with pure sin. "What else can I make you break, lovie?"

"S-sorry..."

"Oh no sweetheart, don't apologise. Let me see how much more I can make you sing for me~"

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer in love with an artist reader

・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

warning: mild swearing

You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side. 

You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night. 

Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream? 

If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you. 

Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.

“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you. 

Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.

Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth. 

You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.

Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.

Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even. 

What in the worl-

“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers. 

Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!

Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence. 

You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?! 

You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair. 

“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood. 

Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous. 

“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground. 

“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.”

“So yesterday was real..” You whispered, 

“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.” 

Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?

You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.

You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.

It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly. 

Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist. 

He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt. 

“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again? 

You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal. 

“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.” 

Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.” 

“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room. 

Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors. 

It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?! 

Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?” 

He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?” 

Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.

Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward. 

“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.” 

Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?” 

“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.

“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.

You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.

Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back. 

“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.

You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.

“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.

Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him. 

He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors. 

For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could. 

Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.

You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music. 

Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.

“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story. 

“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.

Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?” 

“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”

“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.” 

“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up. 

“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you. 

How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?

“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.

“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.

You shrugged, “I have no clue.”

“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”

You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.” 

“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.

You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.

“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast. 

Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened. 

“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.

“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.

Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”

“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”

Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information. 

“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.

Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping. 

It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin. 

Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.

“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction. 

“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?” 

“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!” 

Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up. 

He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.

Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?” 

Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement. 

“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.

“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”

“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group. 

“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked. 

“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.” 

Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space. 

There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could 

Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.

“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.

Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.  

“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.” 

He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too. 

Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils. 

“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter. 

Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!” 

As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you. 

Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.

“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness. 

Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk. 

With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious. 

Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.

He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink. 

“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws. 

Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?” 

“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces. 

Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws. 

Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.

“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.” 

Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family. 

Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers. 

“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?” 

“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.” 

Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.” 

“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.

“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”

A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at. 

You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.

“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”

Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.

“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.” 

That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.

“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”

“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you. 

“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.

“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.

“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”

You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.

“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.

“It sounds kind of gross.” 

“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!” 

“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.

Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop, 

“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.

Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.” 

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.

“So, what did you need my help with?” 

“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?” 

You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”

Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’ 

Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune. 

Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings. 

Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon. 

“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins. 

Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.

Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups. 

Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses. 

Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.

In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade. 

You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.  

Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good. 

You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.

“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel. 

“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”

“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand. 

“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth. 

“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone. 

Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile. 

There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted  Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations. 

Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.

“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates. 

Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table. 

Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.

You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.

“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk. 

“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.

“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol. 

Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.

“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.

Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.

“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.

“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.

Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.

“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.

“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.” 

The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup. 

He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.

He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze. 

“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.

“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.” 

Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.

It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.

“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square. 

Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue. 

When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically. 

“Now what is it?”

“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.” 

You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food. 

After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.

Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”

You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”

Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel. 

You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.

Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.

Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.

Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you. 

“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.

You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach. 

“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly. 

Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)

sorry about that long wait, forgive me 🙏

taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox

[fictionalwench]

Want

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: smut, age gap, size kink slightly, praise, foul language, Jim being fucking oblivious.

Hoppers old.

Or getting there at least.

And he knows it.

   But somehow you're still here in his bed, your youthful cheek squished against his chest, your arm thrown around his middle that he knows isn't as toned as it used to be. 'A Dad bod,' you'd called it. Said it was hot. He'd just rolled his eyes, giving your ass a playful swat.

   You'd met when you began secretary work at the police station. It was a long, pining heavy minute before he ever approached you romantically. You'd flirted with him, or tried, but he couldn't possibly fathom someone as young and vibrant as you wanting him. He'd tried to avoid you, despite working so closely together. That all changed one night when he had to stay late to do paperwork, and you'd volunteered to stay behind to help. He'd tried insisting you go home, telling you he'd take care of it, saying you should get some rest. But you'd stayed, helpfully pointing out that it'd go twice as fast with 2 people.

   So there he was, 1am with the prettiest girl to give him any attention in a long time, your thigh bumping his under the table. He crosses his legs. Partially to put space between the two of you, partially to hide the growing tent at the front of his pants.

The view you'd given him wasn't helping. The white button down you wore was slightly undone at top, unbuttoned in you're frustration, allowing him a view of your breasts swelling past the top of your bra everytime you bent to retrieve your dropped pen.

   You're barely through half the stack of reports and files when you suddenly stand and lean across him, your hair in his face, your chest brushing his arm.

   'Sorry Cheif, just looking for the notes that go with this case,' you explained, flipping through the stack. He let out an involuntary groan, the scent of your shampoo flooding his senses, his cock straining painfully against his pants. If you heard, you never let on, finding the folder you were looking for and sitting back down. Looking back now, the memory makes him chuckle, wondering how he'd been so oblivious to your advances.

   'I'm gonna..ima run to my office quick,' he said, standing and turning quickly, 'left some notes somewhere in my desk. Might be a minute.'

   'O-oh! Take your time!' You told him, but you looked-and it had to be his mind playing tricks on him-disappointed? He shook his head as he hurried off to his office, quickly shutting the door behind him, fumbling with his belt, desperate for some relief from the pressure. He fell back into his chair, giving his throbbing cock a couple long pumps.

   'Fuuuck,' he breathed, precum leaking out of the angry red tip and onto his fingers. He used it to glide his hand over himself with ease, moaning as he imagined it was your spit, your pretty lips wrapped around him, bobbing your head up and down, those big innocent eyes staring into his. Your name tumbles from his mouth, sweet on his tongue.

   Just as he felt his release rising in him, there was a knock on the door.

His door.

That he forgot to lock.

    There was no time to stuff himself back into his pants before you're opening the door and peaking your head in, so he just spun his chair to face front, hiding his lap under his desk.

   'Hop? Everything good? You find those papers?' You asked, knitting your eyebrows together, making him want to kiss the bump that formed between them.

   'Oh, yea, no, sorry,' he said a little too quickly, 'I uh, I think Flow might have had them last, but she keeps her desk locked at night. No big deal.' He shrugged, wishing you'd take his explanation and leave. He was still exposed under his desk, twitching, his release still sitting on the brink.

   Instead of leaving, you stride into the room, shutting the door behind you, 'maybe they're still in here. Here, lemme che-,' you'd walked around the edge of his desk and he'd nearly jumped to stop you.

   'No! That's REALLY ok, it doesn't matt-,' he didn't speak quickly enough, watching in horror as you shut the drawer open next him, finally exposing his dirty secret to yourself. He braced himself, ready for you to scream, ready for you to call him a dirty old man, a pig, ready for the profanities to spill like venom from the mouth he'd wished so many times to kiss.

   But it never came. You just stood there, your mouth open in a small O shape, your clear and intelligent eyes wide.

   'I'm so sorry,' he breathed, and moved to pull his pants back up, his face cherry red, 'God, I'm sorry, please-' you stopped him in his tracks, resting your small, soft hand on one of his large calloused ones. You bit your lip and looked up through your lashes at him, and he swears he's never wanted anyone or anything like he did in that moment.

   'I thought- thought you-,' you spoke softly, fumbling over your words, and then you whispered 'I thought you didn't want me.'

   He pulled you forward by your waist at this, leaning his forehead against yours and breathing out shakily, 'you have no idea how long I've wanted...' He trailed off, brushing his hands lightly over both sides of your face, like you're delicate and precious, like he could break you if he touched you too hard.

He wanted to break you.

   'Can- can I?' He looked at your lips as he asked his half question. He didn't need to finish. You knew what he meant because you wanted the same thing. You nodded slowly and bit your lip again. He threw  his head back and whispered a curse under his breath, and sighed, 'let me do that for you.'

   He kissed you softly at first, his pointer finger and thumb tilting your head by your chin. And then he got hungrier, greedier. He kissed you like you were fresh air and he was a man drowning, his fingers digging so hard into your sides that you could imagine his fingerprints bruising onto your skin, his teeth nipping the soft flesh. He kissed down your jaw and neck, his stubble scratching and tickling your skin in just the right way, and you moaned, digging your nails into his back. He pulled you down onto his thigh, one leg on each side of his, the pressure and friction on your clit making you dizzy.

   'So damn beautiful,' he said it against your skin, like it pained him, and it did. In his mind, this was a fluke. There was no way you'd want him more than once. Sex with an older man, that's all it was. Just a taboo to you.

   So when you ran your hands down his chest and sang his praises, he thought he was going to melt right then and there.

   He put his hands on your hips and began guiding you on his thigh, relishing the way your eyes flit back into your head. 'Yeah sweet girl? Feel good? Come on, ride my thigh, get yourself nice and wet for me. That's a good girl' he growled the last part, ripping open your shirt, the snap buttons coming open with a loud CLACK. He bent his head and softly kissed your chest, sucking and leaving hickeys anywhere that wasn't covered by your bra.

   As if reading his mind, you reached around and undid the clasp, letting both your shirt and your bra fall off your shoulders. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he looked at you. The moonlight from the window behind him illuminating your skin, your head thrown back and your eyes shut tight as you ground yourself onto him. The need to be close to you was settled in his very bones, every fiber of his being wanted you like an addict wants a drug.

   He had so much he wanted to do. He wanted to sit you on the desk and bury his face between the pillowy thighs he so often found himself daydreaming about. Wanted to see you bruising your knees for him, your eyes glassy while he hits the back of your throat. But all that could wait. He needed you too badly to take his time, to worship your body like the alter it was to him.

   'Want me pumpkin? Hm? Need me to stretch you out good? Make you feel full?' He purred, brushing the hair from your face. You could hardly answer, your mind already so scrambled for him, babbling your pleas and cries.

   He lifted you by your thighs, his hands finding home on your ass under your skirt as he held you above him, ready to lower you down onto him. He couldn't believe his luck as he watched you in wonder, his head falling forwards and into the crook your neck as you lowered yourself onto him, your tightness wrapping around him, ripping a loud, full moan from his throat. He helped you bounce, keeping you upright as you fucked yourself onto him, kissing him hard and deliberately.

   'Jus' like that honey. Fuck, you're so good. Wanted you for so long. Drive me absolutely insane,' you felt him say against your lips. He hugged you tight to him, one hand cradling the back of your head, and bucked his hips up into yours, holding you and cooing sweet praises as he used you, just like he always wanted to. The amount of times he'd imagined this exact scenario at night, when the only one to keep him company was his hand, was uncountable.

   He could feel his orgasam rising again already, and he would have been disappointed in himself if he couldn't feel you reaching your own breaking point.

   'Gonna cum for me? Hm? Gonna cum for your Police Cheif like a good little whore?' Oh, he was loving this. 'Where do you want it baby? Where do you want me to cum? All over that pretty face? On those perfect tits of yours?'

   You're were panting, your face pressed to his shoulder as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

   'Jim- I,' you stumbled over your words, moaning as he hit your sweet spot over and over again, 'pill. Have the pill.'

   His head spun, 'yea? Want me to fill you up with my cum? I wanna see it leaking all over those perfect fucking thighs of yours, oh FU-' he almost loses himself to his own words, hips slamming messily against your ass.

   'Cum for me princess. That's it, be a good girl, scream it for me.'

   And you did, your release white hot. You pulled down the collar of his shirt, biting his shoulder, leaving teeth marks he was still admiring in the mirror the next day.

   He followed you closely, shooting thick, hot ropes inside of you, moaning and cursing, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you shook against him.

   'Did so good f'me honey. Made me cum so hard. God,'  he buried his face in your neck and breathed in, high off the scent of you and him mixed together.

  

Now, as you stir against him, whining softly in your sleep when he kisses your forehead because he just can't help himself, he smiles softly.

   He might be old, but damn do you love him. And if a few gray hairs don't bother you, then he can keep coping with it.

[punkshort]

ikwya is so good!!! if u have time i would love to see their relationship before they were officially together or the night they became official. but you are so talented can’t wait for the next update!:)

Yes! Love this idea, thank you for requesting! I won't end up writing and posting this until the last chapter is posted because I have a few other things I need to work on first so I really hope you liked how it ended ❤️

Stubborn

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), fluff, feelings

WC: 1.4K

Joel's fingers dug into your hips as he slammed into you, eliciting a broken moan each time his thighs collided with the backs of yours. He was close, and so were you, but he didn't want it to end just yet because he knew when it was over, you would be gone.

"Joel," you whined, your voice muffled by the sheets. You frantically reached behind you to grab his wrist and he allowed himself drop down, pushing your hips into the mattress in the process with his chest pressing against your back. You found yourself face down, flat and completely confined by his body. He nipped and sucked on the side of your neck, hoping to leave a mark, while his coarse beard dragged over your soft skin.

"How's that feel, baby?" he groaned in your ear, squeezing his eyes shut when you pulsed around him.

"So good," you gasped, "so deep like this."

"I know," he murmured, biting down on his lip when he felt the familiar pull low in his belly. "Fuck, I know. So goddamn tight."

"Oh, my god!" you cried out, your arm flailing around aimlessly, trying to find something to hold onto. He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together while maintaining a brutal pace with his hips until he felt you gush around him, curses and sobs tumbling weakly from your lips, your fingers clutching his so tightly it almost hurt.

"That's it," he praised, feeling his own climax swelling. "So good, baby. S-so good. All mine, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Say it," he commanded through gritted teeth.

"I'm yours," you mumbled weakly, still recovering from your orgasm.

That was all Joel needed to hear. He yanked his hips back, making you yelp from how roughly he pulled out, and gripped the base of his cock, stroking it until he came all over your back. Hot, white ropes of his seed painted your sweaty skin until a shiver ran down his spine.

"Shit," he whispered, gasping for air and staring down blankly at your back, watching as his spend slowly dripped over your sides. Not feeling very confident he could stand and walk to the bathroom, he leaned over to grab a bandana from his jeans pocket and wiped up his mess. You instantly pushed your knees down, lifting your lower half from the mattress, but his hand was at your back, pressing you down. You complied and he laid down on top of you, wiggling your ass underneath him with a giggle but he just smiled and closed his eyes, drinking in your scent.

"Joel, I don't think I can do round two."

"Not lookin' for round two," he mumbled, planting a kiss against your shoulder. He slid his palm down your forearm and threaded your fingers together again, enjoying the moment before it became too intimate and you began to writhe, shaking his hand loose.

"I gotta get going," you said, still pinned down by his weight.

"Why?"

You gave him a dry laugh. "Why? Because I'm tired and I want to go home."

"You can stay here."

"Joel..."

"C'mon, can we please stop this?" Joel asked, but he rolled off you anyway. He wasn't going to force you. You sighed and turned around, sitting up in bed and raking your fingers through your hair.

"What difference does it make? Everyone knows we're messing around, no one's going to make a move on me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Exactly. What difference does it make if you just stay the goddamn night once in a while? Quit bein' so stubborn," he rubbed his eyes, trying to mask his frustration.

You sighed and looked down at him, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought it over.

"Does it really mean that much to you?"

He dropped his hands from his face, eyes locking with yours. "Yes."

With an exasperated groan, you flicked the sheets open so you could settle in between them and rested your head on the pillow. "Alright, then."

"Really?"

"Just this once, and only because I'm exhausted," you said, eyes already closed. You wrapped your arms around your pillow with a sigh while he laid there, still staring at you.

"What if I don't want it to just be this once?" he asked softly. You cracked open one eye but didn't say anything. "What if I wanted more than just messin' around?" he added, scanning your face for any sign that you felt the same way. You had to.

He expected you to maybe get annoyed or possibly make a joke and go to sleep, but what he certainly didn't expect was for your eyes to suddenly fill with tears. His own eyes widened and he inched forward, reaching for your hand, when, much to his surprise, you met him halfway.

"I'm not a good person, Joel. I've done some terrible things," you whispered brokenly, and his chest tightened. If you only knew.

"We've all done bad shit to survive," he said, squeezing your hand.

"I've killed innocent people," you sniffled, "I've stood by and watched children-"

"Hey," he said, cutting you off, "so have I. But that don't mean we shouldn't be allowed to be happy, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe it does." It broke his heart seeing you so distraught. All he wanted to do was take your pain and shove it deep down with his own. You didn't deserve to suffer. As much as you thought otherwise, you deserved something good out of this world, and he desperately wanted to be the one to share that with you.

"C'mere," he whispered, tugging on your hand. You hesitated for a moment before sliding across the sheets and into his waiting arms. He held you close against his chest and buried his nose in your hair, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Not everythin' is black and white anymore," he began, "we do what we do to survive and protect the people we love. You ain't a bad person, baby," he planted a kiss on the top of your head and he could feel your silent tears seeping into his skin. "Is that why you've been pullin' away from me all this time? You think you don't deserve to be happy?"

He felt your shoulders shift with a little shrug and then you mumbled into his skin, "that, and maybe I'm too fucking terrified to risk losing someone I care about again."

His breath caught in his throat. You cared about him. "I ain't goin' anywhere," he said firmly, then hooked his finger under your chin, forcing your face away from his bare chest.

"You promise?" you whispered, and the way you looked so vulnerable in that moment made him weak. He swallowed thickly and nodded.

"Yeah, I promise."

You slowly carded your fingers through his hair, admiring how each curl fell back into place. "So how much more are we talking, here?" you asked, your voice sounding normal again, but he could hear the teasing lilt behind your words. He grinned.

"Oh, I want it all," he told you, watching the corners of your mouth twitch. "I wanna take candlelit baths together and hold hands while we're walkin' down the street. I wanna dance with you in front of the whole damn town and carry you home when you drink too much." You giggled and wiped the last of your tears away while his grip around your middle tightened. "I wanna take care of you when you're sick. I wanna fight 'bout stupid shit just so we can make up. But mostly I just wanna be there. When you're happy, sad, pissed off, excited... I just wanna be the one you come to, no matter what." He watched your expression soften a bit and he pinched your chin. "Think we can do that?"

You sighed and dramatically rolled your eyes. "I'm not really a bath person."

"We can negotiate that one."

You pretended to think about it for a moment, biting back your smile before nodding. You squealed when he rolled over and caged you in underneath him, his mouth crashing down on yours while his heart slammed excitedly in his chest. You wanted him, you wanted him. Then you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, his half hard cock rubbing against your center, making you both moan.

"Okay, I think I'm ready for round two," you told him with a grin.

[star-sim]

too sweet ☆ jay park

☆ bad boy! jay x nerd! fem! reader ☆ summary: after months of an on-and-off relationship with you, jay feared that he'd hurt you. you know that he won't. maybe a few sweet words (and kisses) could convince him. ☆ genre: angst to fluff, suggestive, inexperienced! reader (-ish), jay is really really really DOWN BAD, insecurities ☆ warning(s)? n/a ☆ word count: 2.0k words ☆ everyone clap for hozier’s “too sweet," for my starved jay stans

reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!

"So, you're telling me that you want us to end?"

Jay sucked in a sharp breath, clasping his hands together. "That's not what I mean."

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes at him. The thin gold chain hanging around his neck kissed his honey gold skin deliciously, his silvery hair falling over his brows. You watched as Jay rubbed his knuckles, his jaw clenching with each thought that ran through his mind.

"Then what do you mean?"

If he thought that you'd ever let him go, he was insane.

Jay took a moment to think, before words tumbled from his lips in a slow drawl, as if he was afraid of them.

"We can't be together because I'll hurt you," he said simply. 

Jay watched your expression closely, eyeing your swollen lips— God, were they perfect, like always— as they curled. He could hear the cogs turning in your head, and for a second, Jay thought that he could win the fight.

You and Jay met under rather interesting circumstances. He was slacking in his classes, running the risk of not passing the semester, so the counselors stepped in and had you to help. 

At first, Jay thought you were the most insufferable snob there was. But the next thing he knew, he was pinning you against the wall, hungrily kissing you like he was a starved man and you were his salvation. There was always something so intoxicating about you, the way you were able to chide into his ear why he was failing his classes, yet stayed silent with wide, innocent eyes as his fingers squeezed your thighs. Jay longed for the way you could read him like a book, the way that your black pawns stacked up against him, cornering his white king that made it impossible to escape, all the while holding a polite smile on your face.

It was always unconventional; how could the school's most notorious slacker and shady delinquent even be in the same room as the smartest girl?

Everyone seemed to have something to say about it, and for a second, Jay couldn't help but drink up every word, falling deeper and deeper into the abyss that was his mind.

You were too good for him. You had everything laid out for you, you were just perfect. He wasn't. He was troubled, and stupid, and brash. 

He was mean and bitter, you were bright and sweet. 

So sweet.

Too sweet.

"You'll hurt me?" you scoffed again, looking at him incredulously. 

Under your critical gaze, Jay nearly faltered, as if this wasn't the millionth time that he reconsidered this entire conversation, as if he didn't crave your touch every waking second.

Just ten minutes ago, you were on top of him, your fingers tangled in his hair, ravaging his lips like they were your last meal. Knowing that he was the one that taught you that— how to devour him like a starved hyena— made him feel dizzy.

"When have you ever hurt me?" you pressed, your face pinched.

It was only when your delicate fingers began to unbutton his shirt, soft, but desperate, breaths brushing up against his collarbone, that Jay gently pushed you away, taking you off of his lap and letting you sit beside him on your bed.

"I haven't," Jay swallowed the lump in his throat, unable to ignore the nerves bundling in his stomach, gnawing at him, almost like they were screaming at him to stop. "But I can, a-and I know I will if we don't stop seeing each other."

"What makes you think that?" 

Jay chewed on his lip, thinking about his next move.

Loving you was like playing a game, a game where life and death were at stake. He was willing to roll every dice and destroy every odd if it meant being with you.

You were stone-faced, save for the questioning quirk of your eyebrows, but Jay knew better. 

The moment that the words "I think we should break up" left his lips, Jay could see your pawns retreating; he could see the way that your walls were beginning to come up again, the cage wrapped around your heart tightened, and all he wanted to do was hold you and apologize. 

But he couldn't, because this was for the best.

He'd rather hurt you once, than hurt you a million more times in the future. 

He was afraid of himself, of what his hands could do, of what tears you would shed over him.

He was fundamentally flawed, someone who could not be fixed. That was something that both you and him needed to accept.

"You know me," Jay murmured, his eyes glued to the fluffy carpet on the floor. He couldn't look you in the eye after this, after hurting you. "I'm not good for you."

You stayed silent for a few pulses, only the sound of your shaky breath filling Jay's ears. 

Then, you reached out for him. But, the moment that you soft fingers met his shoulder, Jay violently flinched away.

He knew that if he let you touch him, he'd never be able to pull away.

"Jay..." Your voice was small, and when he looked up to see your face, your brows were furrowed together. You looked hurt, and he wanted to punch himself; he wanted to melt into your warmth, feel your hands on his skin, and taste the paradise that was your lips.

You slowly retracted your hand, something that made Jay's heart ache. 

"Sorry..." he mumbled, quickly averting his gaze once again. After today, he didn't deserve to look at you.

Another few pulses pass in sheer silence, a silence so suffocating that Jay felt his throat tighten.

"Did it mean anything to you?" you finally asked shakily. 

"W-What?"

"Did anything that we did at least mean something to you?"

The word "yes" almost came spilling out of his mouth, eager to prove to you that he indeed loved you— loved you enough to save you. But, Jay stopped himself.

You would never take an explanation that didn't make sense. You'd push and push and push until you got the truth.

He couldn't draw this out any longer, or else he'd crack.

"No," Jay pushed out of his mouth, grimacing at the bitter taste on his tongue. 

He heard you take in a breath, before you clicked your tongue. 

You didn't believe him, and you weren't going to take no for an answer.

"Tell me the truth," you murmured. "All those times we've kissed, why would you kiss me first if it meant nothing?"

He really couldn't do this, he couldn't lie to you.

"W-Well, it's because you're always close to me." Horrible explanation, and he knew it.

You cocked a brow. "No one’s forcing you to kiss me."

Jay gulped. You were reading him like a book, seeing right through him.

"Any man in my position would kiss you," he stammered, unaware that the way his nose scrunched gave him away. Jay's eyes glazed over you. God, you were just so beautiful. "I mean, look at you."

His ears burned with shame, blinking back hot tears that brimmed his eyes. He couldn't believe that he was actually doing this, purposefully lying to your face. He felt disgusting; weak. You were the first person that he's ever loved, the first person that made him feel all sorts of weird, giddy feelings, the first person that made him feel safe and loved. He was ruining it for himself, but he'd rather ruin himself than ruin you. After this, how was he ever going to recover? He couldn't imagine his life without you, not after feeling your warmth, not after having the privilege of seeing you beneath him, pretty eyes filled with stars gazing up at him—

If Jay wasn't so caught up in his head, he'd notice the way that you observed his flickering expression, before suddenly climbing back onto Jay.

"H-Hey—!"

You pushed Jay down onto the bed so that he was lying on his back, sitting right on his abdomen, pinning him down for good.

"You're a horrible liar," you muttered before grabbing his face, pressing sticky kisses against his jaw.

No, no, no! This isn't supposed to happen! You're supposed to hate him!

Your lips trailed from his jaw to the crook right below his ear, the spot that you knew was Jay's sensitive spot. You bit down just enough to make Jay let out a high-pitched sigh. You pulled away, admiring the purple-pink mark you left on his skin, before trailing down to the birthmark on his neck. You ran your tongue over the heart-shaped mark. Jay's hand jerked out for your waist, squeezing it.

"B-Baby..." he breathed, slipping back into his habit of using that name for you. His mind was doing everything in its power to resist you, but all he could do was tilt his head back to give you better access to his neck.

"Baby?" you purred against the shell of his ear. "Thought I didn't mean anything to you."

"I— Shit, don't do that, Baby—" you slid your hand under his shirt, your lips making vulgar noises as it attached to his honey skin. 

"I don't fucking care if you hurt me," you spat in his ear, and chills ran down his spine. Since when were you so... obscene? 

What has he done to you, for you to start off as an innocent and curious girl and end up shamelessly touching him? Had he corrupted you too much?

"You said you wanted to give me the best firsts?" your voice was so harsh, so mean that Jay almost questioned how someone so sweet could be so ruthless. It also made him question why in the hell it made his stomach do a flip. You bit down on a collarbone. "Then stop being a pussy and just let me love you."

Jay threw his head back, letting a groan escape his lips. God, how was he going to win this? How was he going to ignore the shudder of his shoulders as you touched him? How was he going to act like his body wasn't yearning for you?

"I'm pretty and you know it," you rasped in his ear. "So stop resisting me."

Your words were candied, sweet like syrup, seeping into his head and swaying all resolve he had. He almost gave in. Almost. 

"L-Look, I know you’re hot and all," it took every fiber in Jay's being to not give into your tantalizing lips, "B-But you know this is wrong."

You hummed against his skin. "But I don't."

Jay's rendered speechless when you press your hips against his, squeezing his eyes shut. His stomach did a flip, a wave of heat coursing through his body. It felt electric, it felt wrong.

"I don't know that this is wrong, and even if I did, I wouldn't care" your tone is so soft, so innocent, but your actions were so dirty. "Ignorance is bliss."

Jay opened his mouth to let more dumb words pour out, dumb words that were his final (and extremely futile) attempt to restrain himself, but his breath got caught in his throat when they ran your hands through his silver hair, gripping it and pulling it back. You held his head in place by his hair. The sensation of pain on his scalp was delicious, enough to make him feel like putty in the palm of your hands.

"If you don’t stop," his voice was airy and high-pitched now, labored breaths escaping his lips. He wasn't going to win this fight. He never was going to in the first place, not when you were his opponent, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

"Then don't," you said simply against his neck. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. Your eyes were wide and shiny, innocently staring up at him. Your voice was so pretty and sweet, so sweet that he couldn't believe that you were doing and saying all these things to him. "Don't control yourself."

As Jay fell back into the comfort of the mattress, letting heat spread across his chest and face as you hungrily sunk your teeth into what was his heart, his Adam's apple bobbed.

You were too sweet for him, too sweet for a bitter person like him. 

He wouldn't mind getting tooth decay, yeah?

[gallaghersgal]

hey yall. here's some pure fucking filth me and olive were discussing. nsfw 18+ soft dom!lip & heavyyy somno (consensual!!) lowk not even my best work but my brain would not stfu about this concept. 0% edited

lip had a thing for filling you up. he wasn't fucking shy about it either, not by a long shot. he was always mumbling in your ear 'pretty girl, gonna fuck you full' 'you look so good with my cum drippin' outta ya, shit' 'needy fuckin' pussy, jus' beggin' to be filled.' his filthy words were enough to push you over the edge most nights, careening into a second or third orgasm.

afterwards you laid limp, while he would thrust weakly in and out of you until he couldn't take it any longer, his body caving to the overstimulation with an almost frustrated whine. tonight, however, he pulls out quicker than usual. you whine at the loss and he shushes you, one large hand landing on your hip as he sinks down your body. you half expect to feel his mouth on your cunt, but instead his soft curls tickle your thigh as he rests his head there.

you stare at the ceiling, your chest heaving, and reach out blindly to scratch at his scalp. "come up here, miss you," you whine softly, and receive a kiss on your thigh as a response.

"gimme a minute baby. wanna keep lookin' at this pretty pussy, just a little longer. m'kay?" lip mumbles, his voice hoarse. the pad of his thumb lands softly on your clit. your small laugh is cut off by a content sigh, and you let your eyes flutter closed while two fingers scoop what's leaking out of you. he pushes his cum back into your fluttering cunt, muttering some soft, awestruck words against your skin.

"feels good," you mumble. the feeling of his thumb rubbing slow circles on your swollen clit rolls over you in gentle waves, lulling you into that sweet peaceful state he always puts you in. it isn't long before you dose off, not that lip notices. he's too busy watching the way you squeeze around nothing, his load dripping back out of you.

"pretty girl," it comes as a mumble, low and needy. "you get me so fuckin' hard-" he kisses your inner thighs, then moves to press his lips to your clit. it's brief, but enough to draw a sweet little whimper from your sleeping form. you'd talked about this before, letting lip fuck you while you slept. he left early most mornings, often complaining about the hard-on he has to oh so carefully ignore as he began his day. he knew you liked it too, waking up full of him, the pleasure cresting over your sleep addled body.

he doesn't even need to pump his cock, he's already rock hard as he slides back into your sopping cunt. if you were awake he knows you'd tease him for the broken moan he lets slip out, he even has half a mind to wake you up just to hear your pretty voice, but you look so sweet beneath him. he can't fathom waking you up now.

one hand draws your thigh around his hip to provide a deeper angle, making you stir but not quite pulling you from your slumber. "must feel like a real good dream, huh baby," lip mumbles, keeping his voice low. "y'r so fuckin' tight, never gonna get enough 'f this pussy."

it's not long before he's close to spilling inside you again. his thrusts get sloppier, the soft squelch of your bodies together grows louder as he gets desperate, and eventually he decides it's time to bring you around, just so he can give you one more orgasm before bed. with the way you're clenching around him he can tell you're close.

"come on baby, open those pretty eyes f'me," lip whispers right against your ear, mouthing against your skin in a needy fashion. your eyes flutter open, darting around before settling on his own. "tha's it, there she is. there's my girl."

"lip? oh- oh, fuck," you babble, and his dick twitches inside you. your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer, pressing your tits up against his bare chest. the proximity is dizzying, along with the deep strokes he's fucking you with. whimpers and whines tumble from your lips, sounding like heaven to the man above you as he chases his own high while pushing you towards your own.

"squeezin me so tight baby girl. ‘m sorry, couldn’t help it. jus’ needed to fill you again,” he mumbles, his nose pressing to your cheek. he leaves a smattering of kisses there, continuing on, "needed to fill this pretty fuckin' pussy. c'mon baby, cum f'me. cum f'me an' i'll fill you up."

that's all it takes to send you over the edge. you don't make a loud show of it, instead releasing a single high pitched whine, followed by a content sigh. a little smile tugs at your lips, eyes fluttering closed again as he thrusts once, twice more, before his hips come to a stop, pressed flush against your body.

lip all but collapses onto you, his chest heaving and thighs shaking with the force of his orgasm, and you manage to bring a hand up to his hair. you tug softly, bringing him to look at you before pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss. your foreheads rest together as you pant into each other's mouths, all blissful smiles and tired limbs.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚑𝚊𝚢𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: you have trouble sleeping when you unexpectedly have to share a bed with james on your holiday . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁3.5k

⟢ warnings/tags: one bed trope, bit of wolfstar, fluffy, nervous!reader

⟢ requested

⟢ masterlist

note: love me some out of touch with money sirius and james

"Oh! I see it now! Your booking is for this date!"

"Perfect." James lets out a sigh of relief.

"Next year." The desk agent adds after a rather cruel pause.

All eyes fall on James, the one you all left in charge of planning your getaway. A decision that feels idiotic now.

James looks like he is trying very hard to not meet at your piercing gazes, as if any of you might have summoned the power to turn him to stone.

"Is it?" James' voice is strained as he speaks, "Okay, my fault, my fault. Honest mistake. I'm sure this happens all the time, yeah?"

"Not really." The desk agent says, a hint of judgement in her tone.

James, with his lips pressed into a flat line and eyes squinted, is failing very hard at not looking peeved at her.

"We should've let Rem do the planning," Sirius says through a yawn, letting his head fall on Remus' shoulder. It was already very late when you arrived at the hotel, and all four of you just wanted to crash in a warm bed. Remus slung his arm around Sirius' shoulders, rubbing his arm as a comfort.

Meanwhile, you shift your footing as you move your heavy bag from one shoulder to the other, your impatience and fatigue clearly growing.

James paid Sirius’ comment no mind, his attention all on you as eyes flick your way when he notices your discomfort in his peripheral vision. Wordlessly, he takes your bag off your arm and slings it over his own.

"We can fix this, can't we?" James asks, "Can we move that booking to today?"

"We don't do that for bookings that didn't pay the insurance fee, and it says here that you didn't pay the insurance fee. That also means the trip is non-refundable as well."

"Okay!” James feels an eye twitch coming on, “Fine, what rooms aren't booked? We'll just book new rooms, no big deal," James' says, his own growing impatience evident in his tone. He pulls a credit card from his wallet and taps it restlessly on the stone counter.

You and Remus stand there wide eyed, about to protest, while Sirius begins to look for his own wallet. James waves Sirius off and reassures you and Remus with an "I've got it."

The desk agent ignores the slight commotion as she reads from her screen, "Well, you're in luck. We have two queen rooms left."

"Wait," you interject, "Queen rooms? Because one of them needs to be a double."

"Those are the last rooms available." She confirms.

"Well, is there a pull-out sofa in either of them? A regular sofa? Anything?" You ask, desperation growing as the agent shakes her head at all of your suggestions, "A cot we can roll into the room even?"

"We ran out," she says, tone laced with faux sympathy.

"Well, one bed is fine with us, obviously," Sirius smirks, wiggling his eyebrows. Yet again, he is ignored. Well, not by Remus, who squeezes his shoulder.

James faces you and puts a gentle hand on your arm, "Hey, it'll be fine. We'll figure it out when we get up there, yeah?"

You sigh, but digress with a simple nod.

As soon as James says "We'll take them" the agent is listing off the price for the rooms for the duration of your stay.

"Wait, wait, wait!" James tries to stop her.

You jaw goes slack, "What?"

"Sorry?" tumbles from Remus' lips at the same time.

Sirius is the only one who looks unbothered, his eyes flicking between you and Remus as he asks, "Is that supposed to be a lot?"

"That's wildly more expensive than what we paid originally,” you protest. "The old price is only worth one night of this new price!"

"Oh, I remember why we didn't let Moony do the booking," Sirius comments, and the reason for the price difference suddenly dawns on you.

James looks at you with a sheepish grin as the wheels turn in your head. James and Sirius clearly took the brunt of the expenses, letting you and Remus only pay your share for a single night, passing it off as the full price.

"James!" You ridicule.

"We wanted you guys to be able to stay somewhere nice for once!" He defends stridently.

"First of all, offensive. And second of all, there are nice hotels that don't cost over a thousand dollars a night!"

"It's endearing that you think that's a lot for two rooms."

"Once again, offensive!"

"So, will you be taking the rooms?" The agent interjects.

James doesn't break eye contact with you, his lips molding into a cheeky grin as he slides his credit card across the desk, "Yes, we will."

When you reach the room, the site of the single bed makes you huff indignantly, but you had to admit that the room was pretty nice. And just by looking at the bed you could tell it's comfortable.

"They could have totally fit a couch in here," you take notice of how spacious the room is. "Five hundred dollar rooms should come with couches. You're getting scammed, James."

James chuckles as he places both of your bags on the floor.

"We have a desk," he says as if it's helpful, "a TV, wardrobe..."

"None of which are particularly useful right now," you comment.

James shrugs, approaching the inviting bed. He starts picking up pillows and dropping them on the floor.

"What are you doing?" you ask, moving to stand next to him.

"Makin' a place to sleep," he answers.

"No! No way, you're not sleeping on the floor!" you protest.

"You made it pretty clear you wanted separate places to sleep," James says.

"Well yes, but you should have the bed. I feel bad enough as it is that you've paid for this whole thing twice, I couldn't live with myself if I let you sleep on the floor."

"And I'm too much of a gentleman to let a lady sleep on the floor," he says as he lowers himself to the ground, laying his head on the pillows, "I've always been partial to a firm bed anyway."

"James! No way!"

"Listen, the only way I'm sleeping in that bed is if we both are, otherwise-"

"Fine,” you say sharply.

"Wait, what?"

You put your hands on your hips, "I said fine! But keep those pillows on your side, you've tainted them with the floor."

James watches as you saunter off to the bathroom, retrieving your toothbrush and pajamas from your bag on your way. The whole time, he remained on the floor, too stunned to move.

Of course, when James heard there would only be one bed, he was secretly a little excited, which may or may not have to do with the little (not so little) crush he has on you. But when you expressed concern over the situation, he knew immediately that he'd be sleeping on the floor, and sharing a bed with you would have to remain a lovely little dream. When he suggested otherwise just now, it was just banter and a way to get you to agree to him sleeping on the floor. He didn't actually mean it. But then you said fine.

James' fingertips fiddle with the fibers of the carpet as he contemplates this, still lying on the floor. He replays the moment in his head, checking his memory for your tone. Did you sound annoyed? Uncomfortable? James really does not want to make you uncomfortable. Even the possibility that he has makes him want to punch himself.

You were suddenly standing over James again in a fresh set of pajamas, "Why are you still on the floor?"

"You meant it?" The words tumble from James' mouth as if they were one.

“Yes, James, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“But are you okay with it?” James clarified.

“What do you mean?”

“This isn’t gonna be uncomfortable for you? You were really concerned about the prospect of sharing a bed. If this is gonna make you uncomfortable, well, I’d rather beg Sirius and Remus to let me sleep on the foot of their bed like a dog.”

You chuckle at the image of James curled up by Remus and Sirius’ feet.

“Yes, James. I’m okay with it. What would make me feel uncomfortable is you sleeping on the floor whilst I’m alone in a bed big enough for two. Honest.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. Now would you please get up from the floor?”

James sticks his hands up like a child, wiggling his fingers at you. You roll your eyes, but the way your lips curl up at the corners reveal you’re not truly annoyed with him.

You grab hold of James’ hands and heave him up, stumbling back a bit once you’ve got him upright. James helps steady you before he goes off to get ready for bed.

Meanwhile, you begin to tuck under the covers.

Lying in a bed has never felt so unnatural. You try fluffing the pillows, lying on either side and your stomach before returning to your back, taking the covers off of one leg then putting them back on—nothing feels right.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t the bed that was the problem but rather your nerves. The reason you were originally so concerned about having to sleep in the same bed as James is your little (not so little) crush on the boy. Just thinking about it made your heart race and you were sure you wouldn’t survive the night. You couldn’t even believe it was really happening until James pads back into the room from the bathroom and begins to join you.

You watch as he picks the pillows up from the floor, brushes them off, and places them back on the bed. Your body stiffens when he climbs in after them.

James is getting under the covers when he freezes, “You sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yes, James. If I start to not be okay with it I promise I’ll kick you out.” You were lying but apparently it was convincing enough for James to resume settling into the bed.

Before completely settling in, James reaches towards the switch for the lamp. He pauses as he asks, “Ready for lights out?”

“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak in case your voice might be high pitched and riddled with nerves.

With your confirmation, James hits the switch and you’re engulfed in darkness.

Your eyes screw shut as you feel the bed creak and shift while James gets comfortable. When he stops, you feel the hairs stick up on the back of your neck.

You open your eyes, letting them adjust to the darkness before you strain them by attempting to look at James without moving your neck. You can just barely see the position he’s chosen.

“Are you-? Are you facing me?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you maybe not?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah sorry.”

You feel the bed creak again one final time as James settles down on his back.

Upon some reflection, James realizes it is probably weird to face the person you’re platonically sharing a bed with. He just couldn’t help it. In his fantasies, you’d both face each other and have hushed conversations that would keep you up late. You’d be laughing and giggling with each other through the night, scooting closer as you did, until you found yourselves drifting off in each other’s arms.

Instead, you both lay stiffly on your backs, as close to your respective edges of the bed as you could get. It’s not James’ ideal situation, but he’s giddy nonetheless, craning his neck to steal glances at you often until he falls asleep.

You assume James is a restless sleeper, not thinking anything else of the way his head keeps moving back and forth, making shuffling noises against his pillow.

When there hasn’t been any shuffling noises for a few minutes, you let out a breath you’d been holding back. You didn’t want to make any noise at all while James was still awake, as if that would make it seem like you weren’t there at all.

Now that James is asleep and can no longer perceive you, you let your stiff muscles relax into the mattress and take a deep breath. You try to close your eyes and drift off, but they frustratingly shoot open a few moments later. Sleep would not be possible so long as your heart keeps beating the way that it does.

You look at James through the corner of your eyes, noticing the way his chest rises and falls steadily. You try to match his breaths, convinced that if you breathe like a sleeping person you’ll be able to fall asleep to.

Unfortunately, it was useless. Nothing could soothe the knots in your stomach, nor dull the sensation of James’ presence burning like a steady flame at your side. You’ll have to just accept it—so long as the boy of your dreams is next to you, you won’t be getting much sleep.

By the third day of your trip, your exhaustion was painfully obvious.

On the first, you were yawning all day, but you were able to brush it off as no big deal.

The second day you fell asleep on the beach the moment your back hit the sandy towel. Sirius and Remus had to endure all of James' fussing over the fact that you could get sunburnt. When James was spraying aerosol sunscreen over you, both concerned that you hadn't reapplied yet and wanting to let you sleep, the wind blew the spray right into Sirius' face. He snatched the t-shirt you were using to cover your face from the sun at once, startling you awake with a shout that it was time to reapply.

Today, day three, is a pool day, and you were nearly drifting off again. This time, it was happening while you’re in the water, your head resting atop your folded arms that drape over the pool's edge.

James is watching you carefully from his spot on a pool chair, making sure you didn’t actually fall asleep in the water. His concern for your safety and need to rest clashing yet again.

Sirius and Remus join James in adjacent pool chairs with drinks from the hotel’s Tiki Bar, but James pays them no mind as they sit down.

“Alright, James?” Remus asks.

“Yeah,” James responds, not taking his eyes off you.

“You seem tense.” Remus points out, “You do know we’re on vacation, right?”

“I’m worried that if I look away she’ll fall asleep and drown.” James voices his concerns.

“Eh, but if you let her you'll get to give her mouth to mouth,” Sirius jokes, and he’s the only one who laughs at it. Though, Remus does give into an amused head shake.

“Why’s she been so tired anyway?” Remus asks.

“Dunno,” James replies, “I don’t think she sleeps much. Every morning I wake up she’s already up and out of the bed, ready for the day.”

“How is the single bed life treating you?” Sirius teases, wiggling his eyebrows.

James purses his lips, “It’s… not exactly how I pictured it.”

“Ooh and how’d you picture it?” Sirius asks suggestively, earning a slap on the arm from Remus.

“I may have been holding out hope for the morning we’d wake up wrapped up in each other’s arms. Or the night where we’d stay up talking and we’d scooch closer and closer until we couldn’t deny the tension between us anymore and we’d kiss and fireworks would go off outside our window.”

“Oh. Wow.” Remus’ comments when James concludes his wistful rambles, finding them to be... interesting.

“Quite the hopeless romantic, are you?” Sirius teases.

James sighs, frowning, “Wanna know what happens instead? We lay stiff as boards, as far apart as possible, staring at the ceiling in silence until I fall asleep. No late night chats and no surprise morning cuddles.”

What James doesn't know that you have woken up curled up against him, his arms comfortably at around your waist, holding you flush against his side. It happened after the first night, and you quickly but carefully peeled yourself out of the bed the minute you came to. The possibility of that happening again and James being the one to wake up first terrified you, making it that much harder for you to get sleep at night. When you did sleep, it was extremely lightly, and you often woke up constantly to make sure you hadn’t accidentally drifted over to his side of the bed.

Remus squints at James, finding his longing quite painful to watch. James should just talk to you, Remus thinks.

"She looks like she's really dozing off, now," Remus says to help him along.

James' spine straightens with alarm, "You think!?" he asks, standing at once to jog to your rescue.

When you hear James' feet pad against the ground, you look up, eliciting a sigh of relief from him.

"Hey," he said softly as he slows his approach, "you're scaring me, over here."

"Scaring you?"

James sits on the edge of the pool next to you, letting his legs dip into the water, "This just isn't the safest place for you to fall asleep."

"I'm not falling asleep," you protest, but a yawn betrays you.

James shakes his head, light chuckles falling from his lips. When he settles with a sigh, he says, "You're exhausted, love. Can I ask what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on," you say, your eyebrows twitching together in confusion.

"Then why aren't you sleeping at night?" James' lips tug down in the corners.

"I am sleeping," you insist softly.

"Not enough, clearly. What is it? I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I? Because you can still kick me to the curb."

"No, I'm not uncomfortable, James," you look away from him bashfully. You really wish James wouldn't pry about this, you had no excuse, besides your feelings for him, which is one you definitely couldn't use. You chew your lip as you attempt to think of another.

James raises an eyebrow at your behavior, "You're certainly acting uncomfortable. Did I do something wrong?" His tone is dejected, like he's sad that you don't feel at ease around him.

You feel bad instantly, not wanting to be the cause of his low spirits. Your head snaps to look at him, "No! It's not that!"

"Then what?" James shakes his head. He studies you, trying to determine what could possibly be wrong. His eyes bore into yours and you feel yourself instinctively shrinking away from him. Your fingers start to fiddle with the string bracelet that you're wearing, arms still resting on the edge of the pool, though you have stood up straighter now.

His features smooth over in realization as he notices your behavior isn't exactly coming from a place of discomfort, although, he was close.

"Oh. You're nervous around me, aren't you?"

"What!? Of course not," you say quickly, yet your head dips down and you won't meet his gaze once again.

James decides to test the theory. He pushes himself up with the heels of his palms and lowers himself into the pool next to you. He stands in the water, close enough for his chest to lightly brush against your arm.

His voice is low when he speaks, "Look at me."

You barely move your head, just enough to see him comfortable if you look through the corner of your eyes. James' hand settles under your chin to guide your head the rest of the way. His gaze feels scrutinizing, and James catches the way you chew on the inside of your cheek.

"You're absolutely nervous," he decides, and there's a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "Why?"

"It's like you're trying to make me uncomfortable. Do you want to sleep on the floor or something?"

"No, I just want to sleep with you," he blurts without thinking.

You veer back from him and his hands immediately fly up in surrender.

James, suddenly the more flustered one of the two of you, speaks frantically, "Not like–! I didn't mean it like that!"

"And how exactly did you mean it?" you ask, taken completely aback.

"I want to hold you. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms," he rambles, "I- I want to be with you, god, I like you."

You're shocked into silence. James' eyes desperately dart across your features, looking for any kind of reaction or sign.

Once he starts looking a little hopeless the words are ripped from your throat, "I like you too. I want all of that too."

James puffs out a breath in disbelief. His lips begin to tug up into a mischievous grin, his hand finding solace on the bare skin of your lower back below the water.

"And if I said I want to kiss you?" he asks quietly.

You swallow your nerves, "I'd say I want that too."

James' free hand finds the back of your head in an instant, using the leverage to pull you into him as he laces his fingers through your hair.

Later that night, James is the one who doesn't get much sleep, too giddy over the fact that he finally gets to hold you.

[struniolos]

bags.

“cant you see me? i’m waiting for the right time.”

chris sturniolo x fem! reader.

synopsis: the one time chris convinces you to sleep in his room instead of nicks, and the truth comes tumbling out.

warnings: smut. minors do not interact.

the sound of chris’ mindless humming fills the air of his room, as you watch from his plush bed the way he thoroughly reads through your mid-term college paper. his hair falls over his eyes, and his legs sit apart. you could watch him like this for hours, how he just seems so calm and present- you try and capture these moments in your mind, like you could take a photograph with your eyes.

“honestly, i don’t think you should include the part about when your childhood dog died.” he speaks up, looking back at you.

you raise an eyebrow. “yeah, it’s not like it’s a core event that impacted my life which is exactly what the paper is supposed to be about.”

he quirks the corner of his lips upwards. “it’s just so depressing, you know?”

“my life is depressing.” you counter with a laugh, watching as he rolls his eyes.

“you asked for my feedback, and that’s what i’ve got. cut the dead dog story.” he says, trying to be as serious as chris sturniolo can possibly be.

you couldn’t help but smile at him, watching as he pushed his feet against the ground to sway his desk chair back and forth. his pyjama pants were definitely a sight to see, blue plaid. a secret, shameful voice in your head fantasised about how soft they would feel up against your skin. you glance down at your watch, which pulses to remind you of your sleep schedule.

“fuck, it’s 12am. i should probably head home.” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

chris looks up as if he were a puppy. you imagined if he had dog ears they’d be perked up. “it’s too late! what if you get murdered or something on your way?”

“in my car?” you question.

he nods, wide eyed. “uh, yeah, what if someone, like, pretends to have been hit by a car then when you stop and get out boom! they stab you.”

“you sure it won’t be you? seems like you’ve had that planned for a while.” you chuckle, shaking your head. chris always had such strange theories and scenarios running around in his mind- if it was possible, you’d love to open it up and take a peak inside. a part of you wondered if you had a place in there somewhere.

he wafts you off with his hand. “you can sleep over, you know nick and matt won’t care.”

you hum in agreement, not particularly wanting to drive home at this late hour, not because of the potential murderers, but the fact that you were ready to collapse in a heap from how tired your brain was. “alright, i’ll go ask nick to pull out his spare mattress for me.”

“it’s so strange he has a spare bed for all his friends when they sleep over, like, just share a bed?” chris rambles, as he stands up and stretched his arms over his head, his stomach peaking out from under his white top. god.

“it’s not strange, it’s very thoughtful. he’s even got a spare cabinet of toiletries for when people stay over.” you point out.

“jesus christ.” chris groans, rolls his eyes.

“whatever.” you scoff, beginning to stand up off chris’ bed, dreading the thought of having to walk up two flights of stairs to get to nick’s room.

chris frowns at you, tilting his head. “you don’t have to go. why don’t you just sleep in here?”

“uh…” you try to muster up something, some dumb excuse for why you couldn’t. because i’m madly in love with you? because i won’t be able to control myself?

“so you’ll have a sleepover with nick but not me?” he grumbles, crossing his arms. “don’t make it weird. we’re just sharing a bed.”

“yes, exactly the point of why it will be weird.” you laugh.

“come on, it’ll be fun. we could watch a movie?” he suggests, a smile adorning his plump lips.

this flusters you, the thought of being so close, watching a movie together, alone, in his room. there was always someone with you, wether it be nick, matt, nate or madi. but not tonight- and that scared you.

“alright, i’ll stay for a bit but i’m not sleeping in here.” you tell him firmly, trying to lay down boundaries before you did anything stupid.

this seems to please chris enough, as he smiles and jumps onto the bed ridiculously, the weight of him bouncing the bed and making it squeak. a dark part of your mind thought about the other ways his bed would make those noises, but you shut it down immediately. once you sat down beside him, with your legs crossed, you scrolled through the netflix catalogue on his tv. you finally settle on she’s the man.

you can see chris in the corner of your eye scrunching his face up. “oh come on, really?”

“it’s a good movie!” you argue, hitting his arm playfully.

he scoffs at you. “so you’ve said about a million other movies that were all shit.”

“actually, could we not watch a movie? i’m really fucking tired.” you yawn, snuggling yourself into the duvet. you remain on top of it though, in a way of telling yourself to not get too comfortable. “i cant be bothered arguing about what to watch, anyway.”

“okay, well what did you want to do instead?” he asks, turning onto his side to face you, now. the only light in his room was that of the tv which illuminated his pale skin, his bright blue eyes glistening. it hurt just how gorgeous he was without even trying.

you shrug. “sleep?”

he nods, now rolling onto his back. you assume this means he is in agreement, but he doesn’t say anything. he just stares up at his ceiling fan, breathing slow. you watch him deep in thought, like his mind is really tinkering over something and gnawing at his insides.

“why don’t you want to sleep in here?” he suddenly says, turning his head slightly to face you.

you sigh. “because chris, it’s weird. we’re friends- we aren’t like, dating or anything. it’s not weird with nick, but with you…”

“with me what?”

your mind fogged with a cluster of everything. all of the stolen glances, the going places you knew chris would be there, always being at his beck and call because you were a ‘good friend’.

you sigh, deciding if you didn’t say anything now, you’d beat yourself up for it. “because...because i like you, chris, and i know you don’t feel the same. i know how you feel about relationships, they scare you. so it’s just easier if i set boundaries for myself and-“

“you like me?” he cuts you off mid sentence, now propping himself up on his side on his forearm.

your stomach sinks. there’s no turning back now. “yes.”

there’s a thick pause between you, and you prepare yourself for the worst. you squeeze your eyes shut, covering your face with your hands. why the fuck had you told him? you’ve ruined everything. now he will never want to hang out with you, and it’ll be awkward with nick and matt and-

“why have you never said anything?” he whispers, quieter than you’d ever heard him.

you swallow, biting your lips hard. “because i didn’t want to ruin not only our friendship but mine with nate, madi, matt, and oh god especially nick.”

chris nods slowly, like he’s really taking to what you’re saying, like he understands the weight of it and why you’d never said anything. why you’d always stayed quiet, and admired from afar. he touched his hair, mindlessly twirling a strand.

“nick never told you?” chris said softly, his eyebrows knitting into one. he looked sad, almost.

“told me what?” you whisper back, your heart now beating in your throat.

chris was never one with words, so when he leaned over and pressed his lips softly to yours, you understood this was his way of saying i like you too.

your cheeks were burning, as he cupped them in his hands. you both slowly began to roll over, with chris now hovering above you and his knee between your legs. you kissed him pathetically desperate, your body keening against his. you lips didn’t seperate once, as if you were breathing air into each other’s lungs and if you parted you’d suffocate. his hair tickles your forehead, his nose pushing into your cheek. you were waiting for yourself to wake up, that you had fallen asleep and this was only a sick part of your mind playing tricks on you. but it was real, he was real.

“fuck, i’ve wanted to do this for so long.” he whispers against you, as his hands roam down your body.

you gasp at the feeling. “you have?”

“mhm.” he murmurs, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “can i take this off?”

you nod, batting your lashes to look at him, and god, he was beautiful as ever.

“this isn’t going to ruin things between us, is it? because i’ll stop right now if it means you’ll never speak to me again.” he pleads, doe eyes looking at you wide and earnest.

“chris.” you whisper, your hand coming to hold his warm, pink cheek. “i would never not talk to you. i want this, i have wanted this.” more than you know you wanted to add, but couldn’t find the willpower.

“i want this too.”

you both assisted each other in swiftly discarding of your clothes, leaving you both only in your underwear. you felt so exposed, the fact he knew how to you felt and that your body was on display. he stroked your thigh as it came to curl around his back, his kisses travelling to your neck and collarbone. you moaned softly at the feeling, his warm lips lighting little fires within your skin. he bit at the plush flesh above your bra before removing it, his hands coming to hold and massage each mound.

you guided one of his hands down to your heat, begging with your eyes. “please.”

chris snaked his hand under your waistband, his slender fingers softly touching your folds. it was all so painfully soft, how he rubbed circles at your core while kissing you slow and deep. he shimmied your panties down, leaving them at your thigh. he dipped a finger into you, your velvet walls pulsating around him. your body begged for more, and chris listened. he was in tune with you, without having to say a word. he pushed in another finger, which elicited a deep moan from within your throat.

“that feel good?” chris murmured, his lips at your cheek.

“god, yes.” you whined, your body curling against his.

he pumped his fingers in and out of your wetness, as you clawed into his shoulders and shuddered against his bigger frame. you could feel him through his boxers, as he ground down against you. his pace increased as he felt you clench around his fingers, the sounds coming from you almost pornographic.

you moaned and cried for him, “chris! i’m almost- ah!”

your orgasm came strong like a thunderous tsunami, your legs stretching and your eyes rolling into the back of your head, your mouth hung open silently as no noise could possibly explain how euphoric you felt.

“mhm, that’s it.” he cooed, riding you through your high and praising you in your ear.

you would never be able to see him the same, never look at him platonically ever again. you knew this would ruin you. he kissed you deep, his tongue licking into your mouth.

“i want to feel you.” he moaned, grinding his constricted mound against your heat. “i want to be inside you.”

the weight of him on top of you combined with his honeyed words began to make you feel all hot and tingly again, as you pulled him incredibly close, your lips puffed and swollen.

“i want that too.” you manage, grinding up against him, the friction euphoric.

he pauses, looking down at you, his chain dangling in your face and hair flopping over his face. “are you sure?”

“mhm.” you hum, “need you.”

chris gives you one last firm kiss, before reaching down to pull his boxers to his thighs. your face flushed a deep maroon, watching as his leaking, pink tip pulsated. he rubbed himself gently, and you reached down to help him. he guided your hand up and down his length, and you felt yourself getting wetter. you shimmied your panties the rest of the way down, kicking them off your ankles. swiftly, he reached over to his bedside table drawer to grab a condom, ripping the packet with his teeth and gliding it down his shaft. you clenched your thighs with anticipation.

the brunette lined himself up with your weeping entrance, as you stroked his hair. you both watched as he slid into you, his tip disappearing into you. your jaw went slack, a pathetic moan tumbling from your plush lips. chris slumped over you once he had bottom out, his face in the crook of your neck.

“fuck, you feel so good.” he groaned, his hair tickling the nape of your neck. “can i move?”

“please.” you beg, as he lifts his head to lock eyes with you. you could no longer see the blue, they were merely bands around his blown pupils.

the first thing you felt was relief as he began to thrust in and out of you, his forearms leaning at each side of you as he held himself up. you knew it was quite vanilla, but thoroughly enjoyed being able to see his pink cheeks and open mouth as he moaned on top of you. his thrusts were passionate and deep, something you least expected from him. it felt ridiculously good, your body overcome with a warm fuzzy feeling deep from within you.

“faster.” you whimpered, holding his head with both hands, clawing into his soft dark hair.

he did as he was told. he picked your legs up, pushing them to your chest so you were folded in half. he began to snap his hips against yours, his balls slapping against your ass. he was impossibly deep, you swore you could feel him in your stomach. he grunted and groaned as he thrust, while you whimpered and clawed at his back. the noises coming from your bodies were ridiculously erotic, the wetness of your pussy and the moans escaping your throat.

“i want to hear you.” he growled, eyes dark and swirling with lust.

“ah, chris yes!” you cried, as he slammed deep within you, his hands holding the back of your thighs to keep you in place.

he quickly slipped out of you, and you almost cried at the feeling of being empty. he flipped you over so quickly you didn’t have time to register, your stomach flat against the bed and his chest flush against your back. he sunk back into you, and you pressed your head into the pillows, muffling your cries.

“oh my- fuck.” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

his hands found purchase on the flesh of your hips, gripping it tight and using it as leverage for his relentless thrusts. his body slammed against yours, fucking you into the mattress. he reached around between you and the sheets, rubbing your sensitive bud.

“i’m close! shit!” you swore, biting your fist as he continued to slam into you, your ass bouncing against his pelvis.

“me too, ah!” he grunted, “i wanna see your face when i fill you up.”

you moaned at the thought, hoisting one leg up and twisting your core so that you turn around to look at him. he had a sheen of sweat coating his body and his lips between his teeth, while his hair fell in his face and his arms tensed as he held you down. the bed frame squeaked rapidly, thudding against the wall. there was no way nick and matt couldn’t hear you.

“fuck!” you cried, your orgasm washing over you in a thick wave. your vision was blurred, and your body froze.

the feeling of you clenching around him must’ve sent him over the edge, as chris’ hips stuttered with a cracked moan coming from his throat. he thrust into a few more times, spurting his hot liquid into you. your eyes were lidded, a dumb smile overcoming you as you watched him puff and pant. he collapsed beside you, but you made sure to face him so you could admire his post sex haze. you both lay in silence for a while, basking in each other.

“i cant believe we just did that.” chris mumbled, his finger tracing mindlessly over your face.

“me neither.” you breathe.

he thinks for a moment, pushing his hair out of his face to reveal his pink cheeks, freckles spattered over his nose. “you think matt and nick heard?”

“definitely. secrets out now.” you say, scrunching your nose.

chris laughs, reaching his arms to envelope you into him. he switched the tv off, now leaving you in the pitch black. as you lay there, caged within his arms, you couldn’t help but let somber thoughts cloud you. you wondered how things would change, what would you two become? was this a one time thing? did he really like you back or were you just another warm body?

“do you really like me too?” you whispered into the darkness, nuzzling your nose into his chest to feel his heartbeat.

“i always have. i just never know what to say in these situations. i get stuck.” he confesses, his hands running through your hair soothingly. “girls scare me.”

you chuckle, shaking your head. “who knew, huh? chris sturniolo, ladies man…is scared of girls.”

he laughs with you now, squeezing you tight. “shut up.”

you find yourself lulled to sleep by his breathing and the feeling of him pressed against you. you’d never felt so comforted, like you belonged somewhere, more than what you did in that moment.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Lemme Take Care of You | Jeon Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Your deadbeat baby daddy comes around and you fall for his charms again like you always do. Pairing: Baby Mamma oc x Baby Daddy Jungkook (exes to lovers?) Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Explicit language and sexual themes oral f receiving and hints of body insecurity after having a baby. Newly discovered lactation kink for the both of them idk man lol it kinda just happened a/n: something random I came up with while talking to @kkusadmirer lmao hope you enjoyyyy (Barely edited but that's the usual here lmao) p.s. This is a one shot but I can do drabbles and asks for this couple if you'd like more from them.

"What are you doing here?" I question as a flirty Jungkook leans against my doorway, dragging his eyes up and down my frame. "You didn't answer your phone" he says, bringing his eyes back up to mine.

"I came here to see the baby and maybe spend some time with my baby mama too" he smirks, walking past me and into the living room when I don't say a word, his head on a swivel looking for our daughter. 

"She's taking a nap right now" I say, rolling my eyes and shutting the door, leaning my head against it and praying that I'll stay strong this time. "I guess that just means I get to spend time with you then huh?" he says, checking me out again as I walk into the living room. 

"We've been over this" I sigh, hating the fact that just the thought of him makes me weak. "We both know you don't mean it" he says, walking up to me and placing a hand on my hip while trailing kisses down my neck. 

"Y-yes I do mean it Jungkook we can't keep doing this" I say, trying to keep to my word but slowly losing the battle like I always do. "No, no you don't. Just lemme take care of you yeah? Wanna make you feel good" he says, trailing his nose along my neck making me shudder at the contact. 

He leans back and looks down at me, searching for signs of true protest but when he doesn't he leans in slowly still giving me a chance to pull away but I give into him like I always do.

The kiss starts off slow and sweet, gradually putting me under his spell like he always does, making my knees weak which he takes notice of and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and taking us back to our bedroom, no my bedroom. 

He's not supposed to be here anymore but I can never say no to him. 

He makes us both tumble down onto the bed and continues to kiss me until I can't breath and even a little after. While I pull away and gasp for breath he continues to trail kisses down my neck, licking, sucking and biting his way down until he's stopped by my shirt. 

"Take this off for me yeah?" he asks, nuzzling into my neck and playing with the hem of my shirt, giving me the choice of letting this continue which he knows I will. I sit up and he helps me take it off, having clocked that I wasn't wearing a bra as soon as I opened the door, obsessed with the larger size of my breasts still full of milk.

"Lemme taste it yeah? Just a little bit" he asks, kissing his way down my breasts, begin careful knowing that they're probably sore. I widen my eyes after hearing his request to try my breast milk but I nod my head nonetheless, turned on by the thought of it. 

He gently takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it, making it nice and wet for him before he gives it a light suck, humming after the taste hits his tongue. "Fuck you taste so sweet" he praises leaving my hips bucking up, begging for some sort of friction.

"My pretty baby mama wants some attention huh?" he taunts, grinding his hips into mine, my cotton shorts rubbing up against me as barely a barrier making me moan at the rougher feeling of his jeans, making me beg for more. 

"Please just fuck me the baby's gonna be up soon" I whine when he rubs up against my clit, letting out a dry chuckle remembering my weak defense of trying to deny him just moments before. 

"No, just wanna make you feel good" he says, kissing me before trailing his tongue between the valley of my breasts and kissing along my stomach almost as if worshipping the place that once held our baby.

"Jungkook stop" I say, pushing his head down to go lower but he doesn't budge. "No, wanna remind you of how thankful I am that you made our baby. Wanna remind you you did so well taking care of her" he says, kissing all my stretch marks and nipping on places that still had a little baby weight on it. 

I lay my head on the pillow, willing myself into thinking this is just sex with him. Nothing more than just wanting the pleasure that I know he can give me. If I let my mind go anywhere else I'm just gonna let him come crawling back to me and I can't let him do that. 

He isn't good for me and I know that but when I'm this close to him it's almost as if none of that matters. 

He resumes his downward journey and kisses right bellow my belly button and looks up at me, asking for permission to take my shorts off and I grant it to him, watching as he peels it all off of me, taking in my folds glistening with arousal, leaving his eyes lighting up at the sight. 

Time and time again no matter how many times he's seen me like this it's almost as if he can't get enough of it. "Fuck, wanna put another baby in this pretty little pussy again" he says, cursing at the thought of it. 

I shut my eyes and throw my head back, squirming from the long stripe he's dragged between my folds, taking my clit into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it just as he had done with my swollen nipple moments before, driving me even more crazy at the feeling. 

"Shit" I whine out, so sensitive from it having been a little while since the last time he came and being so drunk on the feeling of his head between my thighs. "Want that too? Wanna have my baby again?" he says, knowing I'm far too gone after him having made out with my cunt, bringing me almost to the edge of it making me agree to anything he might ask. 

"Fuck Jungkook yes just keep going" I pant, bucking my hips back into his face leaving him smiling against me and suffocating himself, leading me closer and closer to my climax and soon it's washing over me. Hitting me hard like a ton of bricks and making me cover my mouth to keep as quiet as I can so I don't wake the baby. 

Thankfully all I hear on the baby monitor are her soft snores, reminding me so much of her father's that I woke up to every morning. 

Jungkook continues to give me soft kitten licks until I'm whining and pushing him away leaving him placing a quick kiss on my inner thigh before hovering over me.

"Open your mouth" he orders and I do just that, sticking out my tongue as he spits in my mouth, followed my him smashing his lips against mine, wanting to share that sweet taste he always praising me for. 

After kissing for what feels like forever, slowly going from intense to lazy as the tiredness on my side grows he pulls back to say something but we're cut off by the sound of the baby crying on the monitor. 

"I'll go" he says placing one last kiss on my lips, picking my shirt up and wiping the rest of my arousal off his chin before running to the bathroom to clean himself up and throws me a damp towel to clean myself up.

He gives me a sly smile before leaving and heads over to our daughter's room and coos at her. 

"Hi princess, it's okay Daddy's here" he says picking up our six month old and rocking her back and forth, trying to soothe her and my heart melts at the scene I can see on the monitor. 

"You've been a good girl for Mommy right? You gotta take care of her because she loves you very much" he's cut off for a second by her coos back, recognizing him right away. "Hey, no back talk missy I mean it" he jokes along, pretending to be stern with her and she giggles in response. 

"I missed you, you know that?" he says peppering her face with kisses and again being met with more giggles. "I wish I could come over more often but living somewhere else makes it hard. I hope you know I do try to come see you as much as I can" he says, adjusting his hold on her and holding her even closer. 

"I know you don't know what I'm saying but I love you" he says but pulls her away to look at her again. "Mommy says your gonna be a big sister soon" he says excitedly, just imagining the thought of expanding our family even more but at that my eyes widen thinking back to what just happened and I throw my robe on before rushing into her room. 

"You know I didn't mean that" I say, crossing my arms over my chest and cocking a brow at him. "Aw come on, don't you want her to have a sibling?" he pouts, looking back at her before adjusting his hold on her and holding her at arms length as if he were showing her off. 

"Don't you want another one that looks just like us?" he asks guilting me into it by making me say no to our daughter which he knows I can't do even if she can't understand right now. "Let's focus on the baby we have now" I say taking her out of his hands as she reaches for me. "That wasn't a no" he says, his eyes lighting up and I'm reminded again by the fact that he's younger than me, always hitting me with that childlike joy he still has.

I turn my back to him and hold her closer to the little mood light I have for her so she can watch the purple and pink swirls on the celling accompanied by so many bright stars and she reaches out almost as if she was trying to touch them. 

I feel him snake his arms around my waist and places his head in the crook of my neck so he can look down at her, both of us just admiring the beautiful little girl we made together. 

"So do you think we'll give her a baby brother or sister?" he asks placing a kiss on my neck making my breath hitch, taking away the harshness of the answer I was going to give him. 

"Keep on pushing your luck and she'll be an only child" I huff and at that she starts fussing probably from needing to have her diaper changed. 

"Hey you can't just say that! Look you made her upset" I roll my eyes at his claims and turn around to hand her to him. "You want another baby? Fine, then you change her" I say, crossing my arms, seeing the light dim in his sparkly eyes replaced with the slight disgust after smelling the damage she had done.

"So if I change this diaper then we can have another baby?" he asks, patiently awaiting my answer. "Let's focus on her and go from there" I say and he nods his head, placing her down on the changing table and getting everything he needs out of the drawer bellow it. 

"You hear that? You're gonna get a new baby brother or sister" Jungkook coos at her and I slap him upside the head in response leaving her laughing at his reaction. 

"Ow! What'd you do that for?" he whines. "Just focus on the diaper Jeon" I order and he nods his head and I walk out of the room, hearing him mumbling something about how scary I am to her but I decide to let him be this time.

This is what I get for dating a younger guy.  

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[mattslolita]

okay so idk if you’re taking request cs if ur not im soo sorry but i CRAVEEEE toxic babydaddy chris or matt like imagine yall imagine😔🙌🏾

dilemma - c. sturniolo

in which ... you can't stand chris's new girl in the picture, and you both realize how much you miss each other especially for your daughter. ( baby daddy!chris x black!fem reader )

warnings : angst, toxic!baby daddy!chris, crying, smut, riding, nipple play, unprotected piv ( wrap it freaks ), fluff in the end :3

"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒅𝒐, 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ

"alaijah baby, i need you to stay still, please!" you pleaded with your daughter, attempting to grip her unruly curls as she brushed her hair softly.

"mama, when daddy coming?" alaijah babbles, a soft smile on her face as she toys with the bottle of hairspray on the bed which keeps causing her to move around.

a lump forms in your throat at the question, but you attempt to give her a tight-lipped smile anyway. "I'm dropping you off my love, remember? we're getting ice cream on the way."

"ice cweam!" alaijah giggles excitedly, causing her to topple over the oil sheen which tumbles off the bed.

you groan and shake your head, losing the grip you had on her ponytail as you bent down to pick up the oil sheen — the thing that annoyed you was the fact that if it was her dad combing her hair, she was obedient with him. she never gave him problems when he was the one doing her hair, and it made you frustrated.

after picking the bottle up and setting it back down on the bed, you opened candy crush saga on your phone and handed it to your one year old girl, who happily took your phone and sat snug in between your legs.

with a satisfied smile, you begin to brush her hair again, thankfully having no more problems — that is, until your phone rings and you look down to see alaijah's dad trying to facetime you.

"daddy!" alaijah shrieks, a huge smile breaking out over her face.

you didn't want to talk to him, but you weren't going to deprive your daughter — so against your better judgement, you swipe up and accept the call.

"lay, hi sweetheart!" chris smiles at his daughter through the screen, and internally making your heart melt.

"daddy! hi!" alaijah giggles, scrunching her nose cutely as she waves at him through the screen, "miss you!"

"i miss you too, angel," chris says, his beam even brighter at the sight of her, "you ready for this weekend?"

"yah!" alaijah nods happily, poking at the phone, "daddy, say hi to mommy!"

rolling your eyes, you try to move yourself out of the camera's lens especially when you see chris's smug smile on the screen. "hi, momma."

you make a stank face at him and continue doing alaijah's hair, but the one year old makes a pouty face at you when she realizes you didn't answer him.

"mommy, daddy said hi!" alaijah presses, causing you to let out a sigh.

"yeah, daddy says hi," chris smirks, and you can feel your cheeks warm up despite the unwillingness of it all.

"yeah, hey," you said sharply, shooting him a glare through the screen as you're now getting started on alaijah's baby hairs.

"c'mon y/n/n, be a little nicer to daddy," chris continues, causing alaijah to giggle and you to groan.

you put your hands over alaijah's ears gauging a confused expression from her. "shut the fuck up, christopher."

chris just laughs and shakes his head as you uncover alaijah's ears, and she continues to look down at the screen excitedly — you continue watching as your daughter and chris talk for a little bit more, and you can't help but smile a few times at the way chris looked at her with so much love and admiration. it makes you wish you two had never broken up, otherwise you would've been a real family.

you pulled up to chris's house and sighed, looking at alaijah in the rearview mirror — she grinned at you excitedly as she seen that you both had arrived at her dad's house.

you quickly get out of the driver's seat of your car and open the back door on that side, unbuckling alaijah from her car seat and picking her up.

"daddy house!" alaijah beams excitedly, as you close the car door and move to the trunk where her overnight bag was.

"yes, are you excited baby?" you ask her with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, and she nodded with a giggle.

her overnight bag was on your shoulder and you internally groaned as you made your way towards the front door of his house — alaijah immediately reached out to press the doorbell, and you could feel her excited nerves radiating from her which made you smile at her again.

you almost dropped your daughter from your hands when you saw what opened the door — a blonde woman who looked to be your age, dressed in skimpy ass clothing which had you heated. you could tell she had extensions in her hair, and you scoffed at how cheap they looked.

"can i help you?" she snarks with an attitude, a hand on her hip as she gives you a once over.

"i know damn well this bitch is not..." you scoff, shaking your head, then looking back up at her, "girl, i'm here to drop off his daughter. who the fuck is you?"

"i'm his girlfriend," she says, boastful smirk on her face, and your heart drops and your face visibly hardens at this.

"did i ask, hoe?" you say to her, taking a step closer causing her to step back slightly, "get the fuck out my way before-"

"what's going on?" chris's voice suddenly comes, causing your blood to boil. damn, he looked so fine.

"you better check your bitch before i do," you say to him, causing the blonde girl to narrow her eyes at you as chris pushes her to the side.

"daddy!" alaijah says excitedly, reaching her arms out for him.

"hi baby!" chris coos to his daughter, taking her from your arms as he brings her close to him, "i missed you!"

you watch the sweet interaction with a yearning heart, but you seeth when you see the way the blonde girl looks at him with just as much adoration as you do — chris looks between both of you with an amused expression, and you could just give him a right hook right now.

"look, my daughter's here, can you both not come for each other?" chris says with raised eyebrows.

you fully turn to face him now, crossing your arms over your chest. he takes your figure up and down unashamedly, and you try to keep yourself from smirking as you realize you still had that effect on him. "that broad better not go nowhere near my baby, christopher."

"still using that full name on me?" chris scoffs with an amused smile, shaking his head. "i'll see you sunday night, alright?"

you quickly leaned up towards alaijah to press a kiss to her cheek, caressing it as she smiled at you. "i'll see you soon baby, okay? have fun."

"bye mommy, i love you!" alaijah tells you.

"i love you more."

without waiting for anyone to say anything else, you make your way towards your car, giving your hips a little extra sway as you knew chris would be drooling as he watched you walk away. you were proven right when you went to get in your car and chris had definitely been watching after you. you smirked as the blonde girl gave him a look of disbelief at the action, and you drove away, still feeling angry upon seeing her in the first place.

sunday night couldn't have come fast enough — you were bored and somewhat lonely without the comfort of your daughter with you, but you were able to run a few errands.

chris texted you and told you he would drop alaijah back off at your house, and you scoffed and only replied with an "ok." you knew it would piss him off, but how could he be the one upset?

soon, a familiar engine lowly rumbled outside of your house and you felt somewhat nervous because you knew it was chris. you heard the car door open then close, and footsteps slowly approach your porch until a knock on the door sounded.

almost too quickly you answered, and your heart warmed at the sight of chris holding your daughter in his arms tightly, her head laid on his neck with her eyes closed.

"she's asleep," chris said, swiping at his nose then nodding towards her, "can i go lay her down?"

you nodded wordlessly, stepping aside so that chris could walk in with her. he knows your house like that back of his hand ( nevermind the fact he used to live there with you! ) — he makes his way to your room, but you don't follow him.

instead, you cross your arms and sit at a barstool at your kitchen table, tapping her fingers along your arm as you wait the treacherous minutes it takes for your ex boyfriend to say his goodbyes to his daughter.

he emerges from your used to be shared room and grins at you, causing you to narrow your eyes at him. "what the fuck are you looking at?"

"i know you're still mad, y/n," chris shrugs nonchalantly, taking slow deliberate steps towards you.

"boy what are you talking about?" you say with a roll of your eyes, crossing her arms tighter on your chest.

"you're mad about lexi," chris says, egging it on, as he knows you're seething right now.

"oh, so the bitch got a name now, too?" you say, scoffing and shaking your head.

"you mad cause i'm fucking another bitch?" chris smirks, and you whip your head up at him at this remark.

without any warning, you stand up and quickly walk over to chris, yanking him by the arm and pulling him towards the couch in the living room — she shoves the man back on it, immediately going to straddle him as he looks up at her with a smirk and an amusement in his eyes.

"y'know lay's asleep, right?" chris tsks, rubbing the sides of her bare thighs which caused goosebumps to raise on her skin.

"then you better shut the fuck up," you say.

you smashed your lips onto chris's, having been craving this feeling again for so long — his hands immediately went to grope your ass which prompted a gasp to leave your lips and chris to slip his tongue inside your mouth.

you grinded down against his hard on, which you felt poking through his jeans as it so desperately wanted to be free. never breaking eye contact with him, you lifted your his shirt above your head and threw it behind you, and chris went to unclip your bra causing your perfectly round breasts to spill out.

"fuck, i missed seeing your pretty tits, ma," chris groans, immediately attaching his lips to your left tit whilst he massages the other.

"mhm chris," you breathe out, throwing your head back as he switches, giving attention to the other tit.

you grind down on him again, making the both of you moan at the contact. "pull your pants down."

you get up and take your shorts off, also giving chris enough time to slip out of his jeans and boxers, revealing his large, veiny cock which already leaked with precum — your mouth salivates at the sight.

you pull down your panties revealing your wet cunt, to which chris lets out a groan and strokes himself, but you narrow your eyes at him and smack his hand away, going to hover over his cock.

your hands find their way to chris's shoulders, latching onto them as you slowly sink yourself onto him, pulling a moan from the both of you.

"fuck, you're so big!" you whine, the stretch burning being that you haven't felt him inside you in a long time.

"so tight baby," chris groans in your ear, guiding you with his hands.

once he's fully inside you, you begin to move back and forth on his cock, the veins in his hands now prominent with the grip he held on your sides. "fuck baby, just like that!"

"you feel so good, oh my gosh," you moan out, throwing your head as you pick up your rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock.

chris meets you halfway, thrusting up into you pulling multiple whines from you as he hits your sweet spot over and over again.

"fucking me so good ma, i missed your pussy," chris moans, leaving sloppy kisses to your neck.

"m'close, christopher," you moan out, keeping your steady pace.

"yeah?" chris groans in your ear, "come on baby, let go fa me."

it doesn't take you long before your orgasm comes crashing through you, your juices spilling over chris's cock and a loud moan of his name falls past your lips.

this sends him over the edge too, and hot spurts of his seed spill inside of you, mixing your juices together. he helps both of you ride out your orgasm, then you quickly get off of him to catch your breath.

he pulls you back towards him and shoves a finger inside your pussy to keep his cum in there, eliciting a gasp from you as you look at him with disbelief whilst he grins at you.

"what the fuck?" you gasp out.

"need my seed inside you, so you know who's yours," chris grins at you.

he takes his finger out then stands up, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the bathroom — he wordlessly grabs a towel and wets it, and you can feel tears from in your eyes as he does so.

none of this meant it was going to last long — he was going right back to the same boyfriend he was before, which was the ultimate reason you broke up in the first place. but you couldn't help the way you still loved him.

"please don't cry," chris says, breaking you out of the trance you didn't realize you were in.

"why shouldn't i, chris?" you sniffle, as he wipes your legs delicately, "it's not like we're getting back together."

chris could feel his heart break at the words you said, causing him to hang his head — it was his fault, and he couldn't believe he'd ever let someone like you go. he was so scared of fucking up, that he fucked up the best thing that ever happened to him.

"i miss you," you admit.

"i missed you even more, y/n," chris says, lifting your chin so that you could see in his eyes. and for once, there was a trace of sincerity in those blue depths. "i can't believe i broke our family up like this. i fucked up really bad, baby. but i want us to be a family."

"you mean that, baby?" you look up at him with a smile, and he wipes the tears away from your eyes, nodding.

"of course, ma. i love you so much."

he leans down and places a kiss to your lips — but this time it was sweet, but yearning. he missed both of his girls, and he was glad he had them back.

after cleaning you up chris grabs your hand again and leads you towards the bedroom, where alaijah is sound asleep in the middle of where you both used to lay.

you climb on side and chris on the other, and as if sensing the presence of her dad, alaijah moves towards chris like a magnetic touch, and he puts his arm around his daughter looking down at her with nothing but love and admiration.

you smile at him with your head propped up on the pillow, and he looks at you — he affectionately taps your nose, causing you to giggle as you take his hand, placing a soft kiss to it.

"goodnight, baby," you tell him, and he leans in to place another kiss to your lips.

"goodnight, my love," chris says back.

you get under the covers with them, moving close towards alaijah in the process to wrap your own arm around the girl, too — chris places another sweet kiss to both of your foreheads, finally at peace knowing he was with his number one girls again.

( lilly's section 💌 )

two fics in one night, who is she😳🙏? i hope y'all enjoy this, i love u so much muah💌.

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333

[osamucide]

gladly

gladly i’ll burn up for you if you burn up for me

NSFW—MINORS DNI

wc: 1.2k

cw: dazai x gn!reader, explicit sexual content, no plot just horny and fluffy, established relationship, somno(?)(sleepy, anyway), handjob, grinding, nipple play, use of “baby,” “darling,” pillow princess dazai my most beloved

reid: this position bruh i’m going to go so feral that i eat my own hand. not the smut i intended to publish next but apparently the smut i needed to publish next. a little something short while i put off a longer dazai smut. i <3 soft lazy dazai enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

You know mornings like this should be rarer than they are.

His charming insistence, however muted by his sleep-addled laziness, hardly ever fails on you. In fact, it all might make him more tempting—that, the warmth of newly recharged bodies, the honey behind his drooping eyelids, the wandering of his hands and rolling of his hips against yours that feels so sweetly and foreignly unmapped and confused, yes, it’s equal parts all those things and you’re sure some others that you can’t conjure up into words through your early-hour fog. Yes, very few things Osamu ever does without meticulous planning, but he does let a certain vulnerability crack through on mornings like this, a vulnerability that’s evident in between his parting lips and the soft, unpracticed whines that live and die there. And yes, you’re one of the primary reasons—if not the primary reason—Osamu’s so often late to show up to work, but it’s difficult for you to feel guilty when your senses find their way back to the waking realm amongst his pretty sounds rumbling from his chest into your ear, his back arching back against your touch, and his soft brown hair splayed around his head like a halo.

The rational side of you should be dragging your dear boyfriend up and out of bed but it appears to still be asleep as you let your fingertips creep beneath his waistband. You shut the morning light out in favor of pressing your eyes beneath his collarbone; your thumb finds his tip, and if you weren't on the threshold of consciousness you would let out a giggle at the way his breath catches. You can feel Osamu's fingers curling tenderly around your wrist—a silent plea for you to keep going, touch him more, and you'll oblige, but you have to kiss the triangle of his shoulder first, so you do; your tongue deftly finds his nipple, and he's so pliant half-beneath you that you can slot his thigh between both of your own—it’s all you'll need, you can tell, as his head dips to the side on the pillow to catch a half-lidded glimpse of you working him into a mess so early and so easily. He'll return the favor without even trying, just by laying there and letting you move the way you do; he's so gorgeous all bleary from slumber, palming your lower back to guide you against him. You move. You move, looking up at him like he’s an angel, and his vision melts to warm darkness again. It's all he'll need, too.

You’d think he was falling back asleep if it wasn’t for the slow and steady bucking of his hips up into your hand. Winding your fingers around his base elicits a whine from his diaphragm—one you can hear against him as your own eyes roll shut and your tongue continues to idle. It’s all so natural, the way you stroke him, lick him, grind on him, that you feel yourself slipping back into unconsciousness. It’s his noises that you hang on for.

He’s far from alert, but words tumble out in whispers.

“Baby, it feels so good, don’t stop…”

You hum, more in response to his mumblings and less from the friction you create against his thigh; nonetheless, you’re sensitive, and as you keep rhythm along his cock he flexes against you and the way that you feel, splitting the line of slumber and wakefulness and writhing hotly against your lover, is divine.

You wish you could live in this kind of moment for the rest of your life. Too often you find yourself overwhelmed; regrettably and even more often you find Osamu overwhelmed. It’s never so obvious to anyone as it is to you, so he doesn’t tend to let on to anyone but you, and maybe that’s why you keep things like this sacred, because for once he doesn’t seem to be thinking, analyzing, inquiring, even how he does when you regularly have sex—forever the pleaser, he’s always looking to you with eyes asking questions like is it enough? Even outside of sex, god, in every aspect—you know he never stops wondering the same thing about himself: is it enough? Does it feel good? Am I enough? And the answer you give him is always a resounding yes, and you want so badly for him to believe you because he’s just as much your angel as you are his. You hope that mornings like this communicate it louder than your reassurances can. Your pleasure—in everything, in life—is so vividly amplified by his wellness, his peace, his own pleasure. You love him so deeply. He loves you like a stray cat finally living in comfort. You’ll never let a morning like this slip.

“Right there, right there,” he encourages as you squeeze just below his tip; his head lolls from side to side almost as if he’s dreaming (sometimes he thinks he is with you) and you track his movements through your own bliss, dragging your hips back and forth desperately as you double down on the spot that forces full-bodied moans from his pretty mouth. He’s close, he begs you; you’re frantic on his thigh, feeling yourself cum in a haze that has him tensing—you grind harder, harder, harder, sighing out his name until you’re spent so you can prop yourself up on your elbow to watch his face in the thickly-curtained sunlight.

“Oh, fuck, fuck— fuhhh— ah, uh-huh, ah—”

His eyes flicker open to catch your tired smile and he’s cumming—his grip on your ass is the only thing grounding him as his jaw falls slack, your lashes flutter in pure satisfaction, and he twitches, sent to the clouds by his beloved who looks at him with such adoration that he catches himself believing for a second that he must be beautiful; you work incredible magic on him. His brain and his body, both so used to neglect and abuse, finally feel like fruitful grounds for love. He finally feels whole as his cum drips down your fingers.

It is then that you do giggle and lean down to place a quick kiss to his nipple; he’s breathless, pink in the face, and you know you couldn’t love him more, and yet you will as each second passes.

Osamu brings his hand up to your hair, and your next kiss lands on his lips as he wills you down. It’s tender and lasts much longer than expected—you almost start your hips against him again, but the snoozed alarm at your bedside rings for the fourth time. You glance over. He was supposed to be out the door five minutes ago.

“Oh, shut it off,” he groans resentfully.

“As if.” You press one more kiss to his cheek before you unpeel yourself from him and punch the ringer into silence. “I’ll put coffee on.”

“Shower with me before I go, please.” He rubs his eyes and sits up. You strip out of your sticky shorts.

“Of course, darling.”

You pad to the kitchen. He watches you go with a warmth he didn’t know himself to be capable of.

And a smirk.

Maybe he can talk you into one more round in the bathroom.

[rebelliousmuse]

Flirt Zone - M.S.

Warnings: masturbation (male), unprotected p in v (always use condoms).

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

Nick fumbled through his overflowing closet, muttering under his breath. Doja Cat acting as the soundtrack. This first visit to his house, though, took an unexpected turn.

The door swung open, revealing a guy who could've been a model for a cologne ad. Messy, dark hair tumbled across his forehead, partially obscuring the tattoos peeking out from his rolled-up sleeve. A smile played on his lips, showcasing a row of perfectly white teeth. He smelled like heaven. For a moment, you forgot you were looking for Nick. This was Matt, and he was breathtaking.

“Hey, you must be y/n,” he said. “Nick's running a fashion show apparently. Come on in.” He ushered you inside, followed by another guy with similar features, who introduced himself as Chris. The house mirrored Nick's personality – slightly chaotic but undeniably welcoming.

You reached Nick's room, the door swinging shut behind you as Matt and Chris disappeared down the hall. You sank onto the bed, letting out a breathless, “Holy shit.” Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, and you bit your lip hard to try and suppress a goofy grin.

Nick whipped around, a mock look of disgust contorting his features. “Seriously, y/n?” he asked. “Which one stole your heart this time?”

“Matt, definitely,” You confessed, unable to hold back a giggle. “He smells amazing, that smile and those tattoos…” Your voice trailed off as you recalled his image.

Nick snorted. “Great, just what I need, my best friend developing a crush on my brother.”

“Hey, it's not my fault he looks like a rockstar who just stepped out of a cologne commercial!” You defended yourself, playfully nudging him. “Besides, more visits mean more opportunities for me to help you find the perfect outfit, right?”

Nick rolled his eyes dramatically. “Whatever, just don't drool all over my clothes while you're at it, okay?” He said, already rummaging through his t-shirts.

---

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and Nick's house became a second home. You'd sprawl on the living room floor, controllers clutched in hands, battling it out in the latest game. Sometimes, Matt and Chris would join in, their competitive streaks making things even more intense.

One afternoon, while Matt and you were arguing (playfully, of course) about who deserved the last slice of pizza, Nick blurted out, “Don't worry, y/n won't mind sharing with you, Matt. After all, she practically worships the ground you walk on!”

Your cheeks burned like you'd swallowed a fireball. “Nick!” You sputtered, mortified. But seeing the laughter sparkling in Matt's eyes, you took a deep breath. “Well,” You said, trying to sound casual, “You already know now, there's no point in hiding it.”

From then on, flirting became your game. You'd compliment his taste in music, playfully nudge him during movie nights, or tease him about his messy hair (which, secretly, you found incredibly endearing). Matt would mostly respond with a playful eye roll and a chuckle, but sometimes a blush would creep up his neck, and he'd resort to burying his face in his phone to avoid eye contact.

One afternoon, you brought the guys over to meet your other friends. “These are my two best friends,” you said, gesturing towards Nick and Chris, “Nick and Chris. And this one,” You added, turning to Matt, “is Matt.” You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile as you met his gaze. “Let's just say I’m… working on something here.”

The statement hung in the air, open to interpretation. My friends exchanged curious glances, while Matt's cheeks flushed a faint pink. He mumbled a greeting, his gaze flickering away from yours.

Every outing became a performance. Introductions were meticulously crafted. Nick and Chris received a casual wave and a quick name toss. But Matt, well, Matt was different. His introduction lingered, a hint of possessiveness lacing the words. It was a message not just for him, but for the girls who inevitably wandered into their orbit. A subtle marking of territory, a playful yet firm declaration: Matt, in your eyes, was something special, someone off-limits, especially to your closest circle. He was, quite simply, too good to share.

---

Today was sleepover night with Nick, a monthly tradition you cherished. You were putting the finishing touches on yourself, a breezy sundress swirling around your legs as you reached for your favourite bottle of Chanel perfume. A soft chime from your phone announced a text – Matt's message confirming they were outside. Grabbing your purse and a backpack overflowing with sleepover essentials, you dashed out the door, a hurried goodbye to your two barking dogs echoing behind you.

The familiar car idled in the driveway. Sliding into the backseat, you offered a bright "Hi!" that was met with a chorus of greetings from the three brothers. Nick, occupying the seat next to you turned with a grin. "Ready to raid the mall? We need to stock up on serious movie snacks for tonight." You couldn't help but smile back, nodding your head.

The rearview mirror offered a glimpse of Matt as you chatted with Nick. You caught his gaze flickering back in your direction a few times. Feeling a playful nudge of courage, you leaned forward. "Like the view?" you teased, "I know I do."

Your playful jab elicited chuckles from Chris in the front seat, while Nick snorted out a sarcastic, "Gross." But Matt's reaction was different. He rolled his eyes, in annoyance. "Did I ask?" he muttered.

Undeterred, you met his gaze with a smirk. "Damn, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," you countered. "Feeling a bit bratty, are we?" He shot you a mock-irritated look, his jaw clenching slightly. But before he could retort, you leaned in closer.

In a flirty whisper that tickled his ear, you murmured, "I like it." You accentuated the point by biting your lower lip. A blush crept up Matt's neck, his cheeks turning a faint pink. His gaze darted away momentarily, flustered by your bold move.

The mall bustled with activity as you navigated the aisles, gathering movie snacks and groceries for the triplets' house. You kept up a steady stream of chatter with Nick and Chris. However, you couldn't shake the feeling of Matt's gaze burning into you. Every now and then, you'd steal a glance in his direction, only to find him staring intently.

Finally, bags overflowing, you piled back into the car. Matt, focused on the road as he navigated the traffic.

Reaching the triplets' house, you helped Nick unload the snacks. As the boys ordered takeout for the evening, you retreated to a bathroom, taking a moment to prepare for a night of movies. Slipping into a comfy nightgown, you brushed your hair and applied a touch of lip gloss, a subconscious effort to feel put-together even for just a sleepover.

Nick soon appeared at the doorway, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Ready for some movies?" he announced, gesturing for you to follow him. Settling onto Nick's bed, you grabbed a handful of popcorn as the movie started.

The movie was nearing its climax, you were thoroughly engrossed, practically glued to the screen alongside Nick. Then, that familiar pressure built in your bladder. Stifling a groan, you glanced around the room. Nick's bathroom door was ajar. Apparently, a recent "science experiment" for a video involving a rogue Mentos geyser had rendered it temporarily out of commission.

With a resigned sigh, you stood up, the sudden movement momentarily pulling Nick's attention away from the movie. "Bathroom break," you said apologetically, already heading for the hallway. There was a single bathroom close to Nick's bedroom. Reaching for the knob, going in to use the toilet. As you got out, passing outside Matt’s door, you heard a low, guttural groan sent a jolt through you. Concern washed over you, was Matt alright? Had he tripped and hurt himself? Before you could second-guess yourself, you threw open the door.

Your worried frown melted into stunned silence as your gaze fell upon Matt. He was sat with his back to you, his torso was bare. A gasp caught in your throat.

But it wasn't the sight of his bare chest that left you frozen. It was the expression on his face, a look of pure, transcendent pleasure etched across his features; his pants and boxers were down to his ankles as he ran his hand through his big dick. His eyes were squeezed shut, his brow furrowed in concentration, and the low, guttural groans you'd heard earlier escaped his lips involuntarily with each rhythmic movement. He was completely lost in the moment, oblivious to the world around him – oblivious to you standing there, speechless and wide-eyed in the doorway. You bit your lower lip hard, feeling yourself getting soaked at the view of Matt jerking off.

A low involuntary moan escaped your lips before you could even register it. The unexpected sight sent a jolt of arousal through you. Matt's eyes snapped open at the sound, his face contorting in surprise. The rhythmic movement he'd been engaged in ceased abruptly, replaced by a frantic scramble to cover himself with the nearby towel.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" you stammered, cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and lingering heat. "I thought… I heard a noise and thought you were hurt."

"Don't you knock?" he finally managed.

Guilt gnawed at you. You hadn't meant to intrude on such a private moment. Yet, even as you mumbled another apology, your gaze couldn't help but linger on the outline of his hard cock beneath the towel, and the glimpse of toned abs and strong arms fuelled the fire simmering in your core.

"Do you need help?" you blurted out. Matt's jaw clenched, his eyes widening in further surprise. You took a step forward, only to realize he was frozen in place, speechless under the weight of your unexpected advances.

As you closed the distance, reaching out, you tentatively brushed a hand against the rough fabric of the towel taking it off him, sending a tremor through Matt's body as you began massaging his length.

Lifting yourself onto his lap, you straddled him. Hesitantly, his hands reached out, hovering at your waist before finding purchase on the soft skin of your ass.

A wave of heat flooded your senses. Leaning in, you trailed a line of kisses down his neck. He responded with a muffled groan, a low sound that vibrated against your lips. Emboldened, you captured his mouth in a hungry kiss, starting to make out with him as you grinded against him.

Pulling away, breathless, you nipped at his lower lip. With a boldness you never knew you possessed, you reached for your panties, putting them to the side. Maintaining eye contact, your hand grabbed his dick, pumping it a few times before placing it on your entrance and slowly lowering yourself to him, making both of you gasp. He was larger and thicker than you anticipated, a realization that momentarily stole your breath.

He cupped your waist, his fingers digging in as he began to make you move your hips. You followed his lead, moving in a slow way, adjusting little by little to his size. A moan escaped your lips as his tip brushed your g-spot deliciously, making you start to move faster, bouncing on his dick, as he responded with a deep grunt and breathless moans “That’s good, keep doing that” he ordered.

He began thrusting up, his hips meeting yours with a satisfying force that sent shivers down your spine. "So damn tight," he growled in your ear. You responded by digging your nails into his back, leaving a red trail on his bare skin. The sharp sensation seemed to ignite him further, and he abruptly shifted positions, taking control.

He was on top now, he moved impossibly fast and deep into you. The room filled with the sound of skin meeting skin. You cried out with a mixture of pleasure and surprise, the intensity pushing you closer to the edge.

"Quiet, baby," he rasped. "The others will hear." Shame washed over you momentarily, replaced by a desperate need to silence the sounds escaping your lips.

"S-sorry, Ma-tt," you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. He responded with a brief, urgent kiss.

You felt yourself teetering on the precipice, a knot of anticipation tightening in your stomach. The sounds you made grew louder, involuntary expressions of the pleasure coursing through you. He noticed with a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

"Your legs are shaking like crazy," he murmured in your ear. A desperate plea formed on your lips.

"Matt, I… I can't… please," you stammered with a mixture of need and vulnerability in your voice. He understood. A low growl escaped his throat, "Come on then, cum for me" he rasped. And then, in a glorious rush, it happened. The tension shattered, replaced by a wave of pure pleasure that washed over you both as you came all over his dick and you felt him paint your insides with his cum at the same time. You clung to each other, breaths mingling in the aftermath, hearts pounding in a shared rhythm.

He leaned in, peppering your cheeks and neck with soft, lingering kisses. You couldn't help but giggle, and Matt chuckled too. He leaned back, meeting your gaze once more. This time, the kiss he offered was different. It was slow and deliberate.

The afterglow was sweet, but reality beckoned. Nick must be wondering where you'd disappeared to. With a sigh, Matt reluctantly untangled himself from you. He offered a hand to help you sit up. He watched as you reached for your scattered panties.

Before you could leave, he surprised you by grabbing your waist and pulling you into a quick kiss. Finally, with a lingering look that spoke a thousand unspoken words, he released you. Stepping aside, he gestured towards the door. "Go," he said smiling at you.

A nervous giggle escaped your lips as you tried to tame your hair. Reaching for the doorknob, you braced yourself for the trek back to Nick's room. What on earth would you say? How long had it been? Opening the door a little bit, you peeked inside, expecting to find Nick glued to the movie, completely oblivious.

Instead, the sight that greeted you was far worse. Nick was sprawled across his bed, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. The movie had been paused. Before you could stammer out an apology, he spoke.

"Don't even try to make up an excuse for taking so long," Nick cut in. “Let's just say the walls in this house aren't exactly soundproof." He punctuated his statement with a theatrical gag.

Heat flooded your cheeks. "You heard everything?" you mumbled. Nick burst out laughing, "Oh, come on y/n, it sounded like a jungle safari!" he teased making you blush profusely.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Untitled

Author's Note: Not requested of me specifically, but I did promise to write a lil something something featuring Michi and rougher sex. So, here it is!

Pairings: Takemichi x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Takemichi, rough sex, dacryphilia, pillow princess Michi, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation

Tagging: @wazabii @hxpel3s5-slxxt (if you'd like your tag removed please lmk!)

“Aah-!” Another shrill scream bounces off the walls of his bedroom, proceeded by a sharp slap.

Your ragged panting is barely audible over the sound of your hips beating Takemichi's ass — his skin turning an even deeper shade of pinkish red with every collision.

“Fuck, haha... look at you, baby,” you rasped, “look at you taking me nice 'n deep like that. I told ya you'd be able to handle this dick.”

The words didn't quite make it past his lips, instead turning into a whimper that tumbled out when Takemichi tried to protest. He's always so coy — "nooo it won't fit! You're way too big!" he'd say, despite the fact that you regularly wreck his holes. I mean, yeah, you were pretty thick down there, but your partner has proven time and time again that that's not much of a problem.

Even now, as his nails dig into his sheets and tears stain them, Takemichi's walls grip you like a vice; pulling your cock further inside with every motion. And the way his once coherent speech turns into babbles, all because you're rearranging his insides? Priceless.

“Ah fuck-! Mm yeah, take it, baby. Take daddy's cock-” It's all the little slut can do to keep his hips up in the air; his legs may as well have become jelly at this point with the way his thighs shake when you pull back — nearly pulling out — then snap back as if there's some magnetic pull between you two.

Your little pillow princess is full-on sobbing as his teeth grind against the fabric of his sheets. Yet another slap to his ass and Takemichi somehow cries harder, getting choked on his own spit.

Meanwhile, you have been holding back, desperate not to cum just yet so that you can stay inside your lil princess for a while longer. But that ache deep inside of you has only built up, exacerbated by Takemichi's tight hole wrapped around your dick. If only he didn't feel so fucking good, then maybe tonight could last a little longer...

“Gonna fuckin' cum... Hah... Where does my little whore want it, huh?”

No response. Only a drawn out whine where Takemichi's face is buried in the mattress.

You can't stifle the laugh that comes out of your mouth. “Inside it is, then. Ngh-!”

With a few more deep thrusts, you finally explode inside your partner — gushing white, hot ropes that fill him up as you grab a handful of his hair and push his head down further, cutting off the pathetic thing's oxygen for a moment.

“O-ooh shit... haha... damn, baby, you took everything I had, didn't ya?” You tease, exhaling the breath you'd held in during your climax.

Your hands slid down your darling's back, moving towards his hips to rub soothing circles on the skin, then roaming over more of his smaller body — Takemichi's breathing steadies as you do this, gradually calming down until his muscles release their held tension. After a moment, you pull out, leaving your partner's hole gaping, as you usually do, and leaking a fat glob of your cum.

Rolling over onto his side, Takemichi searches for your hand; which you happily oblige him, and meet his touch. Your thumb brushes over his knuckles and you lean down to kiss them before laying down next to him.

“You ok?”

He nods. “Mhm... felt really nice...”

A smile spreads across your face as you watch him blink lazily; best to help him over to the bathroom before he falls asleep, or before you fall asleep, for that matter. And after you're both cleaned up and relaxed, you'll have a little rest together.

Before you roll over and out of his bed, you place a tender kiss on Takemichi's forehead, giggling along with him.