#it's a nice little moment in all the chaos!!

[hd-junglebook]

"Hey Sugar"

-said with rizz

Luke Hughes x F!Reader, Trevor Zegras x Reader (platonic)

Masterlist Link

a:n I had so much fun writing this, I'm literally already starting part 2 because I can't wait to get Lukes's story started. Young dad over here. This part is just a bunch of flirting, can you blame y/n?

Warnings: throuple jumpscare, angry ex girlfriends, flirting, alcohol, maybe cursing, suggestive flirting

Summary: The story begins with you at a party with your close group of friends. Simmering sexual tension crackles between you and Luke, building through flirtatious banter and charged dancing.

Word Count - 5450

Part 1

It was one of those classic house parties - the kind where the music thumped through the walls and the smell of stale beer and desperation hung thick in the air. You sidled through the crowd, dodging wandering hands and spilled drinks, scanning the familiar faces for your crew.

Finally, you spotted them crammed onto a sagging couch in the living room, laughing raucously at something one of them had said. Making your way over, you plonked down next to your best friend Jessica.

"Hey! You made it!" she shouted over the music, throwing an arm around your shoulders. "Y/N, this is Luke. Luke, y/n."

You turned to find the source of the deep, gravelly chuckle beside you. Your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met Luke's - a pair of piercing brown pools that seemed to stare straight through you. A lopsided grin played at his full lips as he extended a hand.

"Nice to meet you," he said smoothly.

The party raged on around you - bodies gyrated to the rhythmic bass line, red plastic cups sloshed with cheap booze, and a thick hermetic heat radiated from the mass of people. But in that moment, the chaos seemed to fade away as you studied Luke's face, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense yet playful gaze.

You swallowed hard, Lady Gaga singing about love over the speakers suddenly feeling all too appropriate. "Likewise," you managed with a nervous laugh, taking his hand.

An electric jolt shot through you at the contact, his calloused palm rough against your skin. You quickly pulled away, hoping the dim lights concealed your reddening face.

And just like that, the spark was lit. As the night wore on, you and Luke traded increasingly outrageous jokes and stories, your friends looking on with delight at the undeniable chemistry.

The party blurred into a dizzying kaleidoscope - the acrid smoke burning your nostrils, the relentless thrum of music in your bones, and the warm press of bodies all around. Yet through it all, you remained hyper-aware of Luke's proximity, his rich laugh and musky scent enveloping you like a cozy blanket.

Every accidental touch, be it a graze of the arms or bump of the knees, set your skin tingling with electricity. The few times your hands brushed, it felt like an exposed live wire.

You could have sworn you saw his gaze linger a little too long whenever you tossed your head back in laughter, swiping away a rogue strand of sweat-damp hair from your flushed face.

"Oh my god, y/n, we need to grab you a drink - stat!" Your friend Maggy grabbed your arm, pulling you away from the couch area with a conspiratorial look. Jessica trailed behind, her perfectly arched brows raised knowingly.

You let them drag you into the chaos of the kitchen, dodging half-naked bodies and heaps of abandoned solo cups. Maggy was a force of nature - her wild crimson curls bouncing as she maneuvered the crowd with ease.

"Okay, spill!" she demanded once you reached the relative safety of the counter. Jessica busied herself fixing you a vodka cran, her slim fingers deftly working the sticky bottles.

Maggy smoothed her short ruffled dress over her curvy hips. "Don't tell me you've fallen for Hughes' charms already?"

You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where this was headed. "It was just some harmless flirting, Mags. I can handle myself."

"That's what they all say..." she warned with a shake of her head, making her diamond studs dance. "I've heard the stories, y/n. That man is a bonafide panty-dropper."

Scoffing, you swiped the proffered drink from Jessica and took a defiant sip. "Well then it's a good thing I'm not wearing any panties tonight."

The three of you dissolved into raucous laughter, drawing annoyed looks from the nearby beer pong champions. Once you recovered, you fixed Maggy with a reassuring smile.

"Look, you know the last thing I need right now is another relationship. Nick and I just ended things. I'm simply enjoying the flirtatious banter, that's all."

Maggy held up her hands in surrender. "Hey, I'm just looking out for you, babe. We all know how charming Luke can be."

"Don't worry," Jessica chimed in with a wink. "Our girl can handle herself."

With that, you allowed them to whisk you back towards the living room, drink in hand. But you pulled up short at the sight of Luke engaged in a heated exchange with a beautiful, irate-looking woman.

"You've got to be kidding me, Luke!" the woman hissed, her face contorted in anger. "First you go radio silent for weeks, and now I find you here making moves on fresh meat?"

Luke? You shot a panicked look at your friends who seemed just as confused. Luke, however, appeared unfazed by the confrontation. A slight smirk played at the corner of his lips as he slowly looked the woman up and down.

"Relax, Amanda. You know how this works between us. We were over a long time ago," he stated coolly, taking a swig from a bottle of beer.

Amanda opened her mouth to retort, but seemed to notice your presence for the first time. Her icy glare landed on you as she sized you up with disdain.

You watched with a mixture of confusion and fascination as the gorgeous but venomous Amanda stormed away from Luke. Before you could even process what was happening, she was suddenly in your face, eyes blazing with contempt.

"Listen here, you little homewrecker," Amanda spat, jabbing a precisely manicured nail into your shoulder. "If you know what's good for you, you'll stay far away from my man."

Your friends tensed beside you, but before they could intervene, Luke was there - placing himself squarely between you and the irate woman. Up close, you could see the taut muscles in his back and shoulders straining against the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

"That's enough, Amanda," he said firmly, fixing her with a stern look. "We're not together anymore, in case you missed the memo. Multiple times."

"Oh, I got the memo loud and clear!" she retorted, throwing her hands up dramatically. "Doesn't mean I'm just going to stand by while you sow your oats all over town!"

Luke rolled his eyes so hard, you thought they might stick that way. He opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to think better of continuing this ridiculous showdown in front of an audience.

"You know what?" you interjected, hands up in surrender. "I'm just gonna remove myself from this situation."

Luke's brow furrowed in protest, but Amanda cut him off with a derisive laugh. "Yeah, that would probably be best, sweetie."

With that parting shot, you spun on your heel and made a beeline for the kitchen, needing to put some distance between yourself and the unstable ex-couple.

Your head was still spinning from the strange confrontation as you grabbed a fresh drink and settled into a miraculously empty couch in the corner.

"Wild night, huh?"

You startled at the unexpected voice beside you. A gangly, bespectacled guy around your age offered an awkward grin, clearly having witnessed the whole Amanda meltdown.

"You could say that," you replied with a rueful chuckle, scooting over to make room for him. "I'm Y/N."

"Trevor," he said, sticking out a clammy hand to shake. "Didn't mean to eavesdrop, I just got the best dinner and a show."

You couldn't help but laugh at his self-deprecating humor, feeling yourself instantly relax in his affable presence. Trevor had a dopey, teddy bear quality about him that put you at ease.

"So is that your girlfriend then? The one trying to claw your eyes out?" he asked with an amused snicker.

"God no!" you replied quickly, perhaps a little too emphatically. "I seriously just met that guy tonight. The crazy ex is all his."

Trevor's eyes widened comically behind his thick frames. "No shit? Well damn, Y/N, you really don't waste any time stirring up drama."

"Hey, I'm an innocent bystander here!" you protested with a laugh, giving his arm a playful shove.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, clearly emboldened by your easygoing banter. The two of you slipped into a conversational groove, chatting and laughing like old friends as the party raged on around you. You found yourself regaling Trevor with tales of your romantic exploits, your tongue rapidly loosening thanks to the alcohol.

"So to sum it up," you said, words starting to slur ever so slightly, "I did not come here looking for any more drama or dick after that whole Nick debacle."

Trevor very nearly did a spit-take with his beer at your crude candor. "Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, sweetie, but it sounds like both drama and dick found you tonight!"

You threw your head back with a raucous cackle at that. Leave it to Trevor to cut right through the tension with well-timed crass humor. You were really starting to like this guy.

"You know what?" you said, looping your arm chummily through his. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, Trev."

…

"Y/N! Get your cute butt over here!" Maggy's voice sliced through the din as she waved you over to the makeshift dance floor.

You shot Trevor an apologetic shrug before letting your friend drag you into the sweaty mass of bodies. Jessica was there too, her eyes shamelessly roving over Trevor's lanky frame as he trailed behind.

"We've been watching you two lovebirds canoodling in the corner all night," Maggy shouted over the thumping bassline, giving your shoulder a playful nudge.

"Somebody's jealous they're not the center of attention for once," you teased back with an impish grin.

Maggy's cherry-painted lips curved into a Cheshire smile. "Please, I'm an eternal attention hog. And FYI, your dorky friend is kinda doing it for me."

You followed her gaze to where Trevor was awkwardly bobbing his head to the beat, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He offered a small, lopsided smile when he caught you looking.

"Well what are you two harpies waiting for?" you challenged with a salacious wink. "Go get your man!"

With a raucous whoop, Maggy seized Jessica's hand and the two descended on the unsuspecting Trevor - a flurry of hair tosses, wiggling hips, and bright laughter. You watched the spectacle with unbridled amusement, letting the bass pump through your veins as you swayed your hips.

This was exactly what you needed - to let go and get gloriously lost in the music, surrounded by the frankly ridiculous antics of your nearest and dearest. You threw your head back, shutting out everything but the driving rhythm.

That's when you felt it - a solid chest pressing against your back, large hands skimming over your hips to settle at your waistline. You turned with a start to find Luke's heavily lidded eyes staring down at you, a rakish grin playing at his lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he murmured, words barely audible over the pounding speakers.

You opened your mouth to respond, but he simply shook his head and leaned in closer, his mouth a whisper from your ear.

"I didn't mean for Amanda to make such a scene back there," Luke said, his breath hot against your neck. "I didn't even invite her here, but...she always finds a way. It's..."

You turned slightly so your lips were nearly brushing his chiseled jaw as you finished the thought: "Complicated?"

A low chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest as Luke nodded almost imperceptibly. "Exactly. Complicated."

One of his hands trailed up the curve of your waist, leaving a searing trail in its wake until it came to rest at the nape of your neck. You shivered at the contact, equal parts electrified and apprehensive.

"What do you say we get out of here?" he purred, dipping his head so your noses were virtually touching.

You wanted so badly to give in - to lose yourself in those smoldering brown depths and see where this tempestuous night took you. But the memory of Amanda's feral snarl flashed behind your eyes, quickly snapping you back to reality.

"I...I can't," you managed to rasp, hating the way your voice trembled with longing. "I can’t leave my friends. They might rip Trevor to shreds if they’re not supervised."

Luke's eyes searched yours for a beat, likely trying to gauge your sincerity. You could practically see the thoughts churning behind those blazing irises as he processed your hesitation. After a weighted pause, his expression softened into something like resigned understanding.

"You're worried about leaving those knuckleheads unsupervised, huh?" he murmured, one side of those obscene lips quirking faintly.

Though Luke aimed for a teasing lilt, you caught the undercurrent of knowing behind his words. He understood, perhaps better than anyone, the tangled responsibility you felt towards maintaining harmony within your dysfunctional found family.

Swallowing hard, you gave a tight nod - hating how your throat still felt obstructed by the press of yearning. "Something like that, yeah.”

Rather than argue or attempt to sway you, Luke simply held your gaze for another few suspended heartbeats. You waited with bated breath, half-expecting him to withdraw his heated proposition completely in favor of rejoining the main fray.

To your surprise, however, the pad of his thumb began tracing idle circles against the jut of your hipbone - calloused whorls raising delicious frissons across your sensitized skin.

…

The thunderous bass line reverberated through your bones as you swayed absently, still dazed from Luke's heated proposition. You were so lost in the lingering tingle of his phantom touch that you didn't notice your friends closing in until they were right on top of you.

"Earth to Y/N!" Maggy's raucous laughter pierced your stupor as she looped an arm around your shoulders. "Where'd you just go, girl? We've been watching you make heart eyes at McDreamy over there."

You blinked rapidly, struggling to refocus on Maggy's mischievous grin with Trevor and Jessica flanking her. The three of them looked like the cat that ate the canary as they not-so-subtly craned their necks toward Luke.

"I wasn't...we weren't..." you fumbled lamely, feeling heat bloom across your cheeks.

"Oh save it, we all saw that heavy flirtation!" Jessica crowed with a wiggle of her sculpted brows.

Trevor chuckled good-naturedly, giving your arm a consoling pat. "Hey, no judgment here, Y/N. I'd be a stuttering mess too if I had a stud like that whispering sweet nothings in my ear."

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, but couldn't quite suppress the giddy smile tugging at your lips. Leave it to your cadre of derelict besties to drag you out of an emotional spiral.

With a groan of mock exasperation, you shoved at Trevor's shoulder. "You're all ridiculous, you know that?"

"And you loooove us for it!" Maggy sang out as the first few lines of "Sandstorm" began thumping from the speakers.

She immediately launched into an embarrassingly enthusiastic dance routine, throwing shapes with reckless abandon. Trevor and Jessica were quick to join the absurdity, shouting the iconic intro at the top of their lungs while thrashing about uncoordinatedly.

"Oh my god, you idiots..." you huffed through a peal of laughter, shaking your head at their antics.

It was then that you noticed Luke watching the scene with undisguised amusement - a lopsided smirk playing at his lips as he clutched a beer loosely in one hand. His gaze met yours over the bouncing heads, eyes twinkling with mirth.

Suddenly, Maggy seized your wrists and yanked you into the fray with surprising strength. You stumbled clumsily into the center of their ridiculous mosh pit, nearly toppling Jessica in the process.

"Y/N! Get in here and get LOW!" Maggy hollered over the thunderous refrain, demonstrating a particularly lascivious body roll.

You couldn't help but cackle at the sheer silliness of it all - these beautiful disasters grinding outrageously as the bass threatened to shake the walls down around you. Even Luke was chuckling now, biting his full lower lip in an utterly delectable way.

"Like this?" you shouted back with a wink, dropping into as crude a dance as you could muster.

That sent your friends into a fresh gale of howls and wolf whistles, cheering you on like it was a damn Olympic sport. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Luke's intense stare tracking every roll and pop of your hips. The heated look in his eyes sent a delicious curl of desire unfurling low in your belly.

Before you could dwell too much on the implications, Jessica grabbed your arm and spun you around - purposefully flinging you in Luke's direction. You landed square against his solid chest with a tiny "oomph!", totally disoriented from the dizzying maneuver.

Large hands immediately bracketed your waist, steadying you as Luke threw his head back with a rich peal of laughter. You could feel the rumbling vibrato against your back as he tugged you more solidly against him.

"Careful there, sugar," Luke's gravelly timbre purred in your ear, his lips brushing the sensitive shell. "As much as I'm enjoying this dance routine, I'd hate for you to injure yourself on my watch."

You bit back a soft whimper at the feeling of his firm torso pressed against you, the scent of his sandalwood cologne utterly intoxicating. With your drunken bravado bolstered by your friends' raucous cheering, you leaned further back into his embrace.

"I don't know, big guy," you countered with a saucy grin over your shoulder. "I think you could handle me just fine."

Luke's eyes blazed at the obvious flirtation, his arms tightening fractionally around your middle. You could have sworn you felt his hips cant subtly against yours in time with the grinding bassline.

This charged dance continued for what felt like an eternity - your friends whooping and hollering in delight as you and Luke traded searing looks and teasing quips.

At one point, his hands drifted tantalizingly low on your hips, fingers splaying possessively. You retaliated by arching your back in a slow, filthy body roll that had his eyes darkening with naked want.

Just when you thought the tension might combust into something more, the song mercifully ended - leaving you both panting heavily with lingering desire. Trevor was the first to recover, clapping Luke heartily on the shoulder.

"Damn son, get a room why don't you?" he joked with a lopsided grin.

Luke merely chuckled darkly, finally releasing you from his iron grip so you could put some much-needed space between your overheated bodies. "Maybe next time, Trev," he shot back with a wink.

You busied yourself straightening your disheveled clothes, decidedly avoiding his molten gaze. But you couldn't deny the delicious new tension sparking between you.

"Hey, uh, not that this hasn't been a total blast and all..." Trevor piped up once you'd fully disengaged. "But I don't know about you hedonists, but I'm starving. Who wants to grab some late-night munchies?"

A raucous cheer went up from your breathless crew, with Maggy and Jessica readily agreeing. You opened your mouth to voice your assent when Luke cocked an inquisitive brow in your direction.

"You in, sugar?" His voice was midnight sin - rough and dripping with unspoken promises.

Something low in your abdomen clenched at the pet name, now inextricably linked to his heated stare and probing touch. Maybe it was the alcohol buzz, or residual adrenaline from your shameless grinding, but you found yourself nodding almost shyly.

Luke's answering grin was pure, predatory satisfaction. "Perfect. I know just the place."

…

The five of you made your way toward the exit with a chorus of giddy laughter, still riding the high of your dance-fueled flirtation. As you stepped out into the cool spring air, Luke fell into step beside you - though he kept a carefully measured distance between your bodies.

"I'm parked just up here," he said by way of explanation, gesturing vaguely down the darkened residential street. "That is, if you kids don't mind piling into my douchemobile?"

The teasing lilt in his tone made you huff out a laugh, still giddy with lingering adrenaline. "Only if you stop calling it that immediately and forever."

Luke threw you a rakish wink over the sloping muscles of his shoulder. "Whatever you want, love."

Trevor, Jess and Maggy trailed a few paces behind, whispering excitedly amongst themselves. You caught Maggy's pointed look in your direction and offered her a warning glare - though you were sure your flushed cheeks gave you away.

Sure enough, Luke's rumbling chuckle confirmed he'd borne witness to the silent exchange. The streetlamps cast his chiseled features in a warm amber glow as he slanted you an amused look. "I have a feeling I'm about to be interrogated by your overprotective friends, huh?"

You nibbled your lower lip self-consciously, considering your response. There was an undeniable spark between you - one that had been stoked higher with every heated look and lingering caress. The real question was whether you were brave enough to fan those flames further or risk getting burned.

Steeling yourself, you lifted your chin to meet his piercing brown stare head on. "Maybe. But I kind of like to make people sweat a little."

The remark clearly took Luke by surprise if his arched brow was any indication. But it was fleeting - that roguish half-grin quickly stretching across his kiss-stung lips.

"Is that so?" he rumbled in a tone that could only be described as molten sin. "Game on then, gorgeous."

You held his fiery gaze for a beat, letting the exhilarating tension build between you like a livewire. Only when the rest of the crew caught up did you finally tear your eyes away, turning to lead the group toward Luke's parked car.

The quiet streets seemed to amplify every sound - the crunch of loose gravel underfoot, the peal of distant laughter, your thundering pulse in your ears. You drew a steadying breath into your aching lungs, trying to center yourself amidst the storm of giddy adrenaline.

When you finally reached Luke's sleek black Mustang, he turned to the group with an almost apologetic quirk of his brow.

"She's not the roomiest ride, but we can make it work," he said, clicking the keyless remote to unlock the doors.

Jessica immediately scrambled into the front passenger seat with Maggy and Trevor piling into the backseat, leaving you and Luke to bring up the rear. He held the driver's door open in an exaggerated show of chivalry, one side of that delicious smirk quirking higher.

"After you, gorgeous."

You rolled your eyes at the pageantry, but couldn't resist shooting him a playful grin as you slid into the buttery leather interior. Luke followed close behind, the hot brand of his body heat prickling at your hyper-aware senses.

Once he'd maneuvered his large frame behind the wheel, he flashed you a Look from beneath those obscenely thick lashes. "You good?"

The simple question seemed layered with unspoken subtext, like he was silently gauging if you were ready to continue down this path of escalating tension and blatant flirtation. Were you?

You could have backed down, downshifted the energy into something more innocent and casual. But the memory of his firm hands on your hips, the hot scorch of his stare...your mind was made up.

"I'm good," you murmured back, holding his gaze unblinkingly as his eyes ignited with fresh interest. "Just tell me where to put my hands."

A muscle ticked in Luke's tensed jaw at the brazen double entendre, his nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. You could practically see the war raging behind his blazing eyes - restraint battling with base desire.

Finally, he seemed to reign himself in with a huff of startled laughter, raking a broad hand through his tumbled curls. "Jesus, Y/N...I'm gonna have my work cut out for me with you."

The delicious promise in his gravelly timbre had your pulse kicking up another few notches. You wet your lips unconsciously, unable to tear your eyes from the searing heat of his stare.

"I'd apologize," you said, aiming for nonchalance but landing somewhere around breathless, "but I don't think either of us would mean it."

Perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, or the lingering high of the party thrumming through your veins. Whatever the reason, you were powerless to halt the breakneck freight train of flirtation between you two. And judging by Luke's molten countenance, the feeling was entirely mutual.

"Don't you worry, gorgeous," he rumbled, one side of those obscene lips quirking dangerously. "This is going to be fun."

With that tantalizing promise lingering like a heady cloud around you both, Luke finally started the ignition. The rumbling growl of the Mustang's engine was like a physical force pulsing through the car as you tore off into the night - laughing and shouting along with your friends.

The revelry continued as you wound through the darkened streets - one outrageous story segueing into another, punctuated only by riotous bouts of laughter. Maggy, as ever, was in rare form - dramatically reenacting an ill-advised tale involving a Thanksgiving turkey and far too much tequila.

Even Luke was in stitches by the end, so enraptured by the ridiculous saga that he swerved slightly on a tight curve. You cried out in surprise, bracing yourself instinctively against the solidness of his bicep. At your squawk, his gaze swung toward you - heavy-lidded and sparking with remnants of mirth.

"You alright, gorgeous?" he rumbled, that infuriatingly charming lopsided smirk back in place.

You aimed a petulant glare his way, but couldn't quite bite back an answering grin of your own. "Eyes on the road, hotshot. I'd like to make it to this mystery food destination in one piece."

Luke threw you a lazy wink, as if reading the lack of any genuine heat behind your words. "Don't worry, I've got great hands."

Your breath caught at the pointed innuendo as Jessica let out a scandalized gasp from the front seat - apparently eavesdropping on your hushed flirtation.

"Oh my GOD!" she crowed with delight, whipping around to face you with shining eyes. "You two are too much! When's the wedding?"

"I'm asking for a plus one," Maggy piped up from behind you with an audible smirk.

Leveling the both of them with a long-suffering look, you simply shook your head and settled deeper into the plush leather interior. Out of your peripheral vision, you caught Luke's answering eye roll - one corner of that lascivious mouth tugging higher.

...

For a while after, the inside of the growling Mustang lapsed into a companionable quiet. Your heart still hammered a staccato rhythm against your ribs, fueled by the lingering adrenaline and the heated promise in Luke's flinty stare.

Now that you were alone with him - temporarily freed from the raucous peanut gallery - the tension hummed between you like a livewire.

You felt him shift almost imperceptibly closer to you, the delicious warmth of his solid body ghosting along your side as he navigated the winding back roads.

He held the wheel in one large hand, his other arm draped casually along the center console - close enough for you to count the fine golden hairs dusting those corded forearms.

It would have been so easy then - to traverse that scant distance separating your bodies and slide your palm over his, to lace your fingers through his and seal this casual flirtation into something more. But you refrained, cognizant of your friends' continued presence just a breath away.

Still, you couldn't deny the delicious tension sparking between you and Luke. Nor could you ignore the way your body hummed in attuned response to his proximity, every molecule attuned to drinking him in.

A heavy silence had fallen over the car's occupants - the only sound the occasional burst of laughter from those in the backseat, quickly smothered under mutual hushing. Luke appeared singularly focused on the dark ribbon of road whipping by, his chiseled jaw tight and flickering in the intermittent glow of passing streetlamps.

Just when you thought the hot tension might calcify into something unbearable, he cleared his throat subtly. You startled at the quiet rasp, inclining your head slightly in acknowledgment as he slanted you a weighted look.

"So...Maggy seems delightful," Luke murmured dryly after a beat, their low timber thrumming through you. "Among other things."

You couldn't quite stifle the snort of laughter that bubbled up at his tactful observation. "That's one way to put it. Though I'd add 'loyal to a fault' in there too."

"Ah, so the protective smokescreen is merely for my benefit then?" he surmised with a sidelong glance, the barest quirk playing at those obscene lips. "Should I be insulted?"

Huffing out a rueful laugh, you shifted minutely closer to him - near enough to catch the cedar and smoke notes wafting from the open vee of his shirt.

"Definitely not," you assured him in a lowered tone, keeping your words confined to the intimate pocket between you. "If anything, you should feel fortunate. They don't extend that...dedicated brand of harassment to just anyone."

Luke seemed to digest this as he guided the Mustang around another tight bend, his jaw tensing almost imperceptibly before easing into an indulgent grin.

"Lucky me then," he rumbled after a beat, shooting you a Look from beneath those ridiculous lashes. "Should I be bracing myself for an interrogation?"

The sultry backnote in Luke's words hung heavy between you as the Mustang's growl filled the weighted silence. You were hyper-aware of each whisper of movement from him - every subtle flex of those chiseled forearms as he gripped the wheel, the shifting of corded muscle in his thighs as he worked the pedals.

It was enough to make your mouth go dry with longing.

You worried your lower lip, struggling to keep your thundering pulse in check as you murmured your response. "Well, if their interrogation tactics are anything like their dance moves, you'd better buckle up, Hughes."

The rich ramble of Luke's laughter seemed to reverberate through your very bones at the rejoinder. You stole a glance at the hard line of his smiling profile, bathed in the warm amber glow of the passing streetlamps.

"Is that a promise, gorgeous?" he countered without missing a beat, slanting you a Look from beneath those ridiculous lashes.

You held his molten stare for a heated heartbeat, caught like a moth in that blazing glare. Did he have any idea what he did to you with that stupid pet name and the sinful rasp of his voice? Probably, if the blatant flirtiness was any indication.

Before you could formulate a suitable retort, the sudden assault of bright neon lights up ahead shattered the electric tension. You blinked rapidly, struggling to read the flickering signs as Luke slowed the Mustang.

"This is the place," he explained as he smoothly guided the car into the near-empty parking lot. "Open 24 hours and right on the beach."

As he killed the engine, the overhead dome light bathed the car's interior in a warm halo of illumination. From this angle, you could make out the sharp planes of Luke's striking profile - that aristocratic nose, the razor cut of his stubbled jaw, and the artful sprawl of those ridiculous curls.

Good lord, the man was distractingly beautiful.

Any further appreciation was curtailed as the trio banged against the seat in a noisy clatter. You and Luke relented, pulling up the seats to free them. Maggy and Trevor came tumbling out in a gangly, graceless heap - seemingly having partaken in too much backseat horseplay if their breathless giggling was any indication.

"About time!" Maggy crowed dramatically once she'd righted herself. "I thought we'd be cruising the streets all night before Sir Lancelot here found a suitable dining establishment."

One dark brow arched elegantly over Luke's hooded eyes as he slanted her an imperious look. "I beg your pardon? This place is a fucking culinary treasure."

Jessica snickered indelicately, clearly gearing up to instigate whatever fresh hell was brewing. However, you opted to defuse the situation before it could fully detonate.

"Shall we, troops? I don't know about you animals, but I'm starving after all that..."dancing.""

The loaded pause and meaningful look you threw Luke didn't go unnoticed if his answering smirk was any indication. Egalitarian as ever, he merely chuckled and nodded towards the brightly-lit takeout counter in the distance.

"Lead the way, gorgeous."

…

Tag List <3

empty lol

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Five: Super Duper Mart

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: At the Super Duper Mart, The Ghoul goes on a chem bender after the vault dweller gives him anti-feral meds. You begin to piece together his true identity which leads to a briefly romantic moment between the two of you. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventual smut, language, canon-typical violence, chem/alcohol use, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.6k

As you approach the Super Duper Mart, you see the ghoul and vault dweller standing outside. His words are indiscernible, but the vault dweller eventually limps through the front doors. Shortly after, he collapses to the ground. He must’ve ran out of vials, you think.

Casually, you approach the collapsed ghoul, squatting down to meet his gaze with a friendly smile. "Hey there," you greet him. His eyes meet yours, and he emits a faint, incomprehensible noise. There are no signs of him turning feral but it's clear he's not in great shape either.

"Seems like you're having a rough time," you frown. "I'd lend a hand but a big ass gulper swallowed me whole - along with the vials I had. It would've been nice if you had helped me. There might have been a slim chance that sweet anti-feral juice would've been okay." You tilt your head and fix him with a stern gaze.

"You..." he strains to speak, "still blabberin’?"

"Of course. I’m not just gonna leave you here to rot," you declare, raising his chin to meet your gaze. The vulnerability reflected in his eyes, combined with the rough texture of his skin, sends a ripple of goosebumps across your body. Despite his harsh exterior, there's an unexpected allure in his eyes that kindles a warm feeling within you. As you gently trace your thumb across his lower lip, a blush begins to creep upon your cheeks. This growing feeling makes you withdraw your hand abruptly, causing his head to slump back onto the ground. "But I’m not gonna help you either. Consider it payback for leaving me to be someone’s dinner. Maybe next time you’ll think twice before running off without me."

With a final smirk, you rise to your feet and give the ghoul one last look before heading towards the nearby wall of the mart. You take a seat on the ground, curious about how the vault dweller will fare inside there. Rumor has it this particular mart is notorious for trading people for chems - organ harvesting business.

Hours ticked by in eerie silence, leaving you to wonder if the vault dweller’s organs have been collected yet. As you glance over at the motionless ghoul on the ground, you can’t help but approach and kneel down for a closer look. Surprisingly, he is still breathing, although utterly useless.

"Tell me your name and I’ll go in to check the status of your trade," you propose.

"Fuck you," he croaks.

"Fine then. I suppose we'll be known in the wasteland as… Smoothie and The Ghoul.” You outstretch your hands as if you were revealing a movie title. “Get it? Like a bizarre twist on that book Beauty and the Beast. But I ain’t the wasteland beauty and you, my friend, are more of a… dehydrated, hairless beast - being a ghoul and all."

“The hell do you know about Beau-“

Just then, a small group of ghouls emerge from the building, causing both of you to shift your focus towards them. Among the chaos, one of them proclaim that a woman rescued them, followed by the ominous sound of gunfire. Looks like that little vault dweller has some guts after all.

Stepping out of the mart, the weary vault dweller emerges, now adorned in armor she didn't have before, with a weapon gripped firmly in her hand. Her gaze falls upon you, a faint look of surprise on her blood covered face, considering the last time she saw you, you were being devoured by a gulper.

"Hey, little vault dweller," you wave. "Good job in there."

"The name's Lucy," she responds. “You made it out of that creature?”

“Eh, ain’t a normal day in the wasteland if you don’t get gulped up by some sort of monster.”

“Props to you, ma’am. I was certain he’d help you but he decided these drugs are more important.” Lucy breathlessly replies, turning her attention to the ghoul still lying on the ground. With a couple of vials in her hand, she places them in front of him. “You don’t get these, you turn into one of those? That how it works? I may end up looking like you... but I'll never be like you. Golden Rule, motherfucker.”

“Golden Rule, eh? What the hell did you do to her?” You inquire The Ghoul as Lucy sets off on her own into the wasteland. Presumably to find the head you knew those Brotherhood idiots have.

The Ghoul's gaze hardens as he reaches for the vials in front of him, a sinister glint in his eyes. “She’s too soft… and I taught her a lesson,” he responds with a low voice.

“Seems like she might have taught you a lesson,” you retort, a sharp edge to your words as you observe him downing one of the vials.

He groans in satisfaction as the chem hits his system, prompting him to stand up and walk into the mart. You follow closely behind, collecting any valuable provisions and hastily stuffing them into your bag. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him having a field day with a massive pile of vials on a table, filling his cowboy hat full of them. It’s the first time you’ve seen him without his hat and you're struck by the sight of his bald head. Not everyone can carry off the hairless look with ease, but he manages to pull it off effortlessly and there’s a rugged charm to his appearance.

Without hesitation, he starts consuming every chem and liquor bottle in sight, a reckless abandon in his actions. The breaking of glass and the sharp smell of alcohol fill the air as you slowly make your way towards his self-destructive behavior. The Ghoul seems to stumble upon an old holotape in front of a working television set and begins playing it as he settles down on a dilapidated pair of seats nearby. You take a seat beside him, pop a couple of mentats found on the table in front of you, and grab the bottle of liquor from him, chugging it down in one go.

An old western film begins to play, featuring an actor named Cooper Howard. You can't help but notice that the severely worn shirt under The Ghoul’s duster closely resembles what the actor is wearing in the film. Subtly, you shift your gaze back and forth between the man on screen and the one next to you. Could it be him?

As you study The Ghoul’s features, you notice a remarkable similarity in his bone structure to that of the actor. The contours of his face, the shape of his jawline, and even the way his cheekbones are structured all seem to echo those of the Cooper Howard. Despite the weariness evident in his eyes, there is a subtle glint that mirrors the spark found in the eyes of this actor in the old western films.

Realization dawns on you that this ghoul is none other than Cooper Howard. After over 200 years in the wasteland presumably as a ghoul, it's no surprise he's become the pessimistic asshole he is now. No wonder he refuses to tell you his name or anything about himself. "That man is quite handsome,” the words slip from your lips, revealing a hint of admiration and perhaps even a touch of flirtation.

The Ghoul chuckles, unaware that you have connected the dots and learned his true identity. His laughter fades as he turns his head towards you, the distance between you suddenly shrinking. His eyes lock onto yours, then flicker down to your lips. A sense of anticipation fills the air as you feel the warmth of his breath on your face, tainted with the unmistakable scent of alcohol.

A moment of tense silence hangs between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the flickering overhead lights. Unsure of what to do or say, you hesitate, opening your mouth to speak but closing it without a word. In the dimly lit surroundings of the rundown mart, he leans in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his lips almost brushing against yours.

In an instant, the effects of all the chems and alcohol he consumed hit him like a ton of bricks. His movements slow to a crawl, his eyelids droop heavily, and before you can even process what's happening, he slumps over, unconscious. You sit there in disbelief, watching as The Ghoul soundly sleeps before you, wondering what could have happened if he hadn't passed out.

The gentle rise and fall of his chest, the soft snores escaping his lips, all evoke a sense of warmth and familiarity. A wave of nostalgia washes over you, reminding you of the love you once shared with a ghoul in the past. You recall the tender moments, the deep connection, and the unspoken understanding that bounded you together. Despite the challenges and prejudices you faced, your love blossomed into something truly special. You can't help but feel a hint of longing for that lost love.

Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, you seek distraction by glancing down at his hand resting near your thigh and you notice that one of his fingers is missing. What the fuck happened while I was gone? Turning your attention to the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table, you take a final swig, the burning liquid warming your insides. Feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you, you lean in and rest your head on his shoulder. The scent of his unique musk mingles with the lingering aroma of whiskey. Eyes drifting shut, you welcome the embrace of sleep, letting the darkness envelop you alongside The Ghoul.

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation @coolrobloxkid28

[singstaircase]

Can we become we?

Summary: Jude wonders, just what horrible sin he committed to deserve a punishment like this– being 'coached' by his teammates on how to become a husband. Not a good one, certainly not a bad one but just a husband.

contains: fluff, crack, implied unwanted marriage, use of the word 'forced marriage', Harry Kane and Ancelotti make an appearance, marriage of convenience or is it?

*Mina is Valverde's partner, Luz is Brahim's girlfriend, Ana/Anastasia is Lunin's partner, Laura is Rudiger's wife and Vanja is Luka's wife.

1.

“Why is she even married to a man like you?”

“She's kind of forced to, Luka.”

Jude finds himself bewildered as his teammates discuss his marriage, a topic that seems to have spread like wildfire among them.

He tries to interject, emphasizing the temporary nature of his marriage but his words seem to fall on deaf ears.

Even more puzzling is how they got the information that he let his wife return to Madrid alone after the last El Clasico.

He didn't, he tries to clarify multiple times but despite his attempts to explain the situation and reassure them, his teammates just don't seem to listen. Now, he finds himself enduring Luka’s lecture on marriage and marital responsibility.

An hour ago, his teammates were oblivious to his relationship status, and now they are judging him for being an ‘awful’ husband.

Jude can't help feeling this sudden annoyance about Brahim and Luz. This is all their fault, probably.

He rubs his eyes as Fede says something to him and though he nods, he only half-heard what was said.

Amidst the chaos, the players fail to notice Ancelotti's arrival until his voice cuts through the chatter.

“Bellingham,” Jude straightens up instantly hearing his coach's voice and everyone falls silent. “Go invite your wife to the bus.”

With a resigned “Yes coach,” Jude's attempt to maintain authority is overshadowed by his teammates' laughter.

“(Name)?” Jude calls out towards the stands, where Luz and (Name) are chatting. She turns to him and he gestures for her to come over.

“Let's,” he starts, his voice faltering for a moment. The idea of leaving immediately crosses his mind, but (Name)'s reassuring smile stops him in his tracks. It's warm and comforting, urging him to stay.

Instead of fleeing, Jude clears his throat and continues. “Let's go home together.”

“On the bus?” She asks and he nods. Her smile grows slightly, and she responds with a soft ‘alright' before darting back to Luz.

Jude watches as (Name) bids farewell to Luz and later Mina before her way back to him. “Let's go,” she says, adjusting her bag and reaching for his hand.

Jude looks down at their intertwined fingers for a moment, feeling a sensation he can't explain, before nodding and walking towards the bus with his wife.

His wife, (Name). It has a nice ring to it.

2.

“Jude move a little closer to (Name), please.”

The second time Arda tells him to do so, Jude sighs.

It was bad enough that he was being ‘coached’ by his older teammates and their partners on how to become a ‘husband’, they didn't need to involve Arda into this too.

As Jude reluctantly inches closer to (Name), he wishes he didn't look over her shoulder.

Jude has no idea why Antonio, of all people, is now involved in his marriage antics. He suspects it has to do something with Laura, Antonio’s wife, taking a liking to (Name).

Jude recalls Laura and Vanja instructions before the photo shoot and he wonders if this is what Antonio is trying to gesture with his eyes.

Reluctantly, Jude obeys, not wanting Antonio or Mina or anyone's warning glances.

He hesitates for a moment before draping his arm around (Name)’s shoulders, feeling her warmth against him. She smiles at him, and Jude can't help but return the smile.

Later, as Jude looks at the photos, he can't deny thinking that they do look cute together.

Only a little bit, he swears.

3.

As Jude wakes from his sleep, he feels the weight of (Name)’s body against his. They had fallen asleep while watching a movie and now, she lies peacefully on top of him.

It had been Luka and Vanja’s idea to organize a movie night. Jude was hesitant about it then but now, as he gazes down at (Name)’s sleeping figure, a warmth blossoms in his chest.

With a soft smile, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer, before drifting back into sleep.

Maybe, just maybe, this marriage thing might not be so bad after all.

4.

“Jude Victor William Bellingham, if you don't ask your wife for a dance in 10 minutes, I am kicking you out of this party.”

“It's not even yours, Mina.”

“Shut up.”

Jude wonders just what bad deeds he did to deserve a friend group like this.

He halts in his steps for the fourth time, glancing back over his shoulder, and sure enough, Mina and Luz are still standing there. Mina’s glare doesn't relent, so Jude sighs and continues walking.

As he reaches the entrance of the dining hall, his eyes land on (Name) sitting alone on a table at the end of the room. She looks around from time to time, probably waiting for Luz.

‘What a fantastic friend Luz is,’ Jude thinks to himself sarcastically, ‘leaving her friend all alone after begging her to come here.’

A small smile finds (Name)’s lips as she catches Jude walking over to her.

Jude could run away now, pretending he never saw her. But something about her hopeful smile makes him reconsider.

Taking a deep breath, Jude approaches (Name) and clears his throat. With a shy smile, he extends his hand, remembering Fede’s advice to at least pretend he's interested.

“Would you like to dance?” (Name)’s eyes light up with surprise and delight. "I'd love to."

When they step onto the dance floor, Jude's nerves start to show.

(Name) laughs at his clumsy attempts to follow her steps, but her laughter is infectious and soon, he finds himself laughing along with her.

She guides Jude through the steps with gentle encouragement. “Just relax and let the music guide you,” she says, her voice soft and reassuring.

As they dance, Jude's nerves start to melt away.

With each step, he feels himself getting more confident. Their laughter blends with the music as he twirls (Name) around the dance floor.

She has a nice smile, Jude thinks to himself.

5.

Jude is starting to feel a little proud over his development as a ‘good partner’ and credit for none of it goes to any of his teammates or their partners, he likes to think.

He sits in his car, feeling a sense of accomplishment for being the one to drop (Name) off at work. It was his idea entirely and he totally didn't take the help of the internet for it.

As he parks in front of her workplace, he turns to her. “I'll pick you up at five,” Jude says, trying to sound confident.

(Name) smiles in response and nods at him. Her smile seems to have an effect on him lately, he can't quite explain why.

But then, something unexpected happened. (Name)’s hand freezes on the handle for a moment, before making her next move.

She turns back to him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Jude is caught off guard, but he instinctively returns the gesture.

Before he can fully process what just happened, (Name) pulls away and waves goodbye, leaving Jude sitting in the car, feeling dazed yet strangely content.

This felt nice.

Jude If you learned that there's something Katie's wanting for a long time but couldn't manage to get, Would you get it her and would it make a good surprise?

Harry I would and it would. Why are you asking?

Jude So, hypothetically if I had a missus and I was you and my missus was Katie in this scenario, I should get it for her cause it would make a good surprise, right? Hypothetically.

Harry Yes, hypothetically.

Jude Thanks.

Harry You have a missus? Jude?

(Name) isn't sure when was the last time Jude looked this nervous. It's a side of him she doesn't see often, not even during the most high stakes of games.

As she approaches him, she can't help but recall the way he had looked at Vanja's birthday. The same nervous energy seems to radiate from him now.

“What is it?” (Name) asks gently, her smile reassuring Jude, who visibly calms down.

Jude closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them again. He takes (Name)’s hand and in a swift move, places a small box in her palm.

(Name) looks at him curiously, then starts to open the box. As she lifts the lid, her expression turns to one of shock.

“I um,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, “I heard from Luz that this is something you've been wanting for a while but the tickets weren't available. So, I…” he trails off, waiting for her response.

When she remains silent, Jude calls her name, growing increasingly worried the longer she stays quiet. 

When he calls her name again, (Name) suddenly hugs him, taking Jude by surprise.

His heart races and soon, a smile spreads across his face. He wraps his arms around (Name), feeling their heartbeats syncing.

“Thank you so much Jude,” (Name) whispers into the embrace.

They stand there, held in each other's arms. Reluctantly, (Name) eventually pulls back, a shy but content smile playing on her lips. What she does next stuns him once more.

(Name) gently holds Jude's face and plants a tender kiss on his cheek before leaving the room. 

Jude touches the spot where her lips met his cheek. A smile graces his lips as the sound of (Name)'s excited voice reaches his ears from the other room. 

He won't mind this happening often.

Luka Did you get a ticket for (Name)?

Jude No.

Luka Why

Jude I don't know?

Mina what does ‘I don't know’ mean?

Jude It means I didn't get one for because I don't know if she likes the band.

Ana you don't know what your own wife likes?

Jude you make me sound like an awful husband, Ana.

Vanja No offence but you sound like one Jude.

Jude Unbelievable. I just remembered, (Name) doesn't even like the band.

Brahim He is lying. Luz says (Name) loves them Luka Jude. Vanja Jude. Mina Jude. Ana Jude.

Jude All of you are going to believe Luz over me??

Mina I mean Luz is her best friend and I don't see why she would lie about something like this

Jude ugh. Fine. I got tickets for her. Happy?

Luka Did you?

Luz He did. (Name)’s been telling me for the last few minutes how happy and excited she is.

Jude She is?

Luz yes, very happy and excited. Good job Jode *Jude 👍

The moment Jude turns to the stairs, he feels his breath catch in his throat.

There (Name) stands, at the top of stairs with Mina, her smile lighting up the room in a way that makes everything else seems dim in comparison.

For a moment, Jude is frozen in place. It's as if time stands still, and he can't help but marvel at her beauty.

He feels a warmth spread through him that he can't quite explain.

Fede, Brahim and Luz, who were joking and laughing just moments ago, fall silent as they see of Jude's reaction.

“Jude, are you alright?” Brahim asks with a teasing grin. Jude can only nod, unable to tear his eyes away from his wife.

“Looks like someone's in love," Luz chimes in with a chuckle."

"Yeah, dur, you're making us look bad with all that romance," adds Brahim and nudges him playfully. “And you are supposed to be the awful one at romance!”

“Wow,” is all he can manage, making (Name)’s smile wider.

Jude finally manages to tear his gaze away from (Name) to glance at his friends, who are all watching him with amused expressions.

"She's just...wow," Jude manages to stammer out.

His friends share knowing looks and teasing smiles before Brahim claps him in the back. "Go on, then. Don't keep her waiting.”

(Name)’s lips curl up as Jude finally gathers himself and makes his way towards her. “Hi,” he manages to get out.

“Hey,” (Name) replies.

After a brief pause, Jude musters up courage. “You look…beautiful,” and before he can stop himself, the next words come tumbling out. “So beautiful.”

(Name) continues to smile at him and extends her hand and gestures for Jude to take it.

Jude takes a breath in to calm his racing heart and smiles.

“Let's go.”

Later, when (Name) rests her head on Jude's shoulder at the end of the concert, he doesn't feel the annoyance he would have months ago.

Instead, a smile finds its way to his face as he pulls (Name) closer to him.

Maybe, just maybe, he thinks to himself, he and (Name) can be something special.

One day. Maybe one day.

[thehandymen]

dadzawa

[horrorartsworld]

Hi, I saw your posts and I liked them, so I thought I'll make a request, Adam x fem Reader smut, Adam fucks Lucifer's wife so he can get revenge on Lucifer and Lucifer ends up finding out

OOOOOOO spicy spicy. lemme see what i can do >:)

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

revenge is sweet

adam/lucifer’s demon wife f!reader

warnings: 18+ nsfw BE WARNED OOOHOHOOO

nsfw part two with lucifer !!

As you lie in bed you couldn’t help but realize how distant your husband has truly been these last few months.

Never really answering your calls, waking up in the morning with him not laying beside you, hardly ever going on dates or just spending quality time together, and more importantly you’ve haven’t had sex in a hot minute.

It was all just adding up over the course of time and you didn’t want to seem like you weren’t being understanding to his needs since he was the overlord of hell after all and there were many times he was needed to help Charlie with the hotel, but you needed your fair share of attention too.

In which you weren’t getting at all this very moment.

Thrashing around in your bed you start to get fed up with these pointless thoughts making you finally sit up rather annoyed. Not helping the fact that your eyes immediately gravitate to your phone snatching it off the dresser to see if he’s even bothered messaging you, not one peep.

Grumbling you jump out of bed as you stomped your way into your closet to put something sexy on to wear out. Dressing yourself in a short black dress that fit nicely around the waist, fishnets underneath and some boots to match. This was usually something you’d wear before you met Luci, but now was not the time to dwell on old things as you looked at yourself in the mirror watching your pointed tail thrash behind you feeling very pleased with yourself and outfit.

Not shortly after you were out the door and walking down the streets of Hell looking for anything to fuck up or a place to drown your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle with this new found energy in you. Then bingo you finally approach it….a flashy new night club that must’ve just opened about a week ago. Seeming to be a little too close to the outskirts of heaven for your comfort, but you tried to not pay it much mind as the neon lights were calling your name.

Once you walk in the whole place is alive and packed. Music is blaring and dancers are dancing, everyone’s having the time of their lives, but you couldn’t shake this weird feeling as you noticed what looked like angels dressed in revealing clothing taking demons back to the establishments private rooms. This had to be some sick joke you just happened to walk in on that you wanted absolutely no part of.Quickly putting your hood on to conceal some of your identity in hopes to go unnoticed by anyone around since you were the overlords second wife after all and would hate to have something like this get back to him.

Strolling up to the bar you order the strongest drink they got, downing it within seconds before you were given another one and downing that one too, impressing some of the patrons sat beside you who looked they had measly drinks compare to yours. 

You softly chuckle to yourself before looking off at one of the dancers getting money thrown at them lost in thought, that you quickly got snapped out of when the doors of the club were snatched open and as if a large flashlight was shinned inside the dimly lit club revealing all of its nasty secrets, none other than the purest of pure himself, Adam, had strolled in.

“Oh shit…” you grimace knowing damn well if he saw you he’d make your life a living hell as if you weren’t already living in it. As you try to scoot away to a more inconspicuous spot in the club away from the utter chaos commencing and raunchy comments you feel a shameful tug at the end of your tail making your body freeze instantaneously.

“Well well well…why look at what we have here~” his voice having a more sinful touch to it as he started reeling you in closer to him by your tail till your back was pressed against his chest.

“Adam…this isn’t the time or the place…” you hiss trying to pull your tail away that he had rather a firm grip on.

“Ohhh come on my nasty little vixen…you know we have history that runs DEEP…if you know what i mean~” the annoying slickness in his voice was surprisingly making your thighs quiver as he playfully thrusted against your behind after implying the ‘deep’ past you two shared. Your mind was scrabbling with both the booze and his words mixing in making it hard for you to even think straight though the feeling deep in your core was enough to make your emotions quite clear.

“T-that was a long time ago…i-i’m changed now~” Not controlling the stammer in your voice as he tugs down your hood revealing your demon like features as you hurriedly try to pull the hood back up letting Adam get a glimpse of your wedding ring.

He scoffs as a more pissed off look contorted on his face grabbing your hand now roughly taking a look at the big diamond decorating your ring finger. “Don’t tell me you married that fucking loser..”

You flinched as he mentioned him, knowing better than anyone about their long and ongoing rivalry as you just so happened to be one of the main factors of it.

Being one of Adam’s number one girls and then getting the boot not shortly after and to have Lucifer pick up all the pieces was bringing too many feelings back that you just tried to get rid of and now they were knocking down your door once more.

“So, what if i did…it’s not like you ever had the balls” you taunt snatching your hand back.

“Oh honey i have the balls…and the dick…it’s just your choice if you want ether one of them~”

It took everything in your power right then in there not to slap him with that now smug look playing back on his face. “You’re still so insufferable”

“Just the way you like it sweet cheeks~”

“Please don’t call me that” You huff facing away from him and towards the bar once more as you then feel the pressure of his hard-on against your ass.

“C’mon i’m just having a little fun….and i think someone else wants to too~” He mutters huskily amongst your ear so only the two of you could hear as he embarrassingly started rocking his hips against your ass.

You turn hastily as you begin pushing him towards one of the private rooms, getting suspicious looks from club goers as you then slam the door locking it.

“What the fuck was that Adam?!” You shout with your horns growing and tail thrashing rather quickly.

He shrugs trying to act harmless now as if he wasn’t just dry humping you infront all those people.

“It got us alone didn’t it?” a smirk forming on his lips as he walks over to you looking down with a hint of mischief in his eye that always made you melt on the spot like it was doing right now.

Your morals wanting to play a big role so badly in this situation but something inside you didn’t want to stop as he let his fingers tease off your jacket making it fall to the ground with a thud.

Breath hitching as he pulls you closer, lips just a few tantalizing inches apart as he looks down at them and then back at you before whispering, “I’m gonna fuck you like he never could.”

Then his lips were hungrily on you in a messy tongue kiss, mouths clashing together as his hands found their way to your ass giving it a nice squeeze before turning the two of you around and making your way to the bed.

The backs of your knees catching the end of it causing you to fall back with him falling on top of you never breaking the kiss as you start to undo his robe letting your delicate fingers playfully rub against his skin making him shiver before the robe was completely discarded with much haste.

Along with your dress not far after but he kept your fishnets on seeing your panties through them seemed to be doing something for him as he broke the kiss cursing under his breath as he turned you around with your ass poking up.

“Such a fucking slut aren’t you?”

He sends a nice slap against your ass causing a mewl to escape your lips in response as a red hand print started to form along your precious skin.

Not being able to pull his gaze away from the sight as he sent another slap against your ass watching you grip the sheets infront of you as your tail flicked up and against his chest with another mewl coming from you. He chuckled lowly to himself noticing the wet patch starting to form along your panties all by chest spanking your ass like he was.

“You’re such a nasty girl aren’t you, getting spanked by someone who isn’t your husband~” he asks again stroking his own ego though it just turned you on more, he suddenly ripped open your fishnets along with your panties with such sudden strength making you gasp as the coolness of the air hit your exposed wetness.

He gently stroked two digits along your sweet folds smearing the slick along them as it causes you bits of pleasure making your tail wrap around his wrist to keep him going.

Though his fingers went away once you did making you pout as he then suddenly wrapped a hand around your tail raising your ass somewhat in the air as he slapped it with the other once again.

“That’s a bad girl…using your tail to make me go faster~” he tuts watching as you wither underneath him as you were helpless with your tail in his grasp like this.

“m- sorry~” you say softly almost pleadingly with your need so obviously infront of him.

“Atta girl baby…saying sorry to the one who really owns you~” he senses your urgency and he can practically see the drip of your pussy infront of him making his dick twitch in the confines of his boxers.

A low growl comes from him behind you as he continues to keep a strong hold on your tail as the point flicks in his fist and quickly pulls out his dick without wasting time to position himself at your entrance as pushes himself inside you not giving you a moment to adjust as he bottoms out.

Whining uncomfortably at his size as he starts to set a slow and deliberate pace, savoring the sensation of your tight body enveloping him.

“Shhhh you can take it~” he encourages as he leans down capturing one of your horns in his other hand pulling you back to kiss along your neck as he arched your back for you with his hold. The angle was hitting a certain spot inside of you it was making it more pleasurable to the point you were seeing stars as he then increased his pace. His thrusts becoming more possessive and greedy in his attempts to claim you from that bastard.

Your moans were confirming this making his thrusts quicken in pace just to hear every one of those noises come out of you. Making you get closer to your release already, knowing he wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer ether as he pushed as many out as he could before you were clamping down on him.

A loud cry rippling out of your throat as your body spasmed against him as the ecstasy fueled your veins. “That’s it….cum for me…know who owns this pussy~”

Feeling the intoxicating tightness of your walls milking his cock and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through his own body, Adam couldn’t take it any longer to hold back and with his own loud groan, he releases himself inside you, filling you up nicely with his warmth.

He didn't care if he came inside of you, he wanted him to know exactly who marked his territory here and who rightfully owned you no matter the marital status. 

Adam falls beside you laying on his back with his hands behind his head, quite happy with himself as you crawl up to cuddle against him.

As you lay there for a moment against Adam’s chest catching your breath you hear a foreign noise of buzzing coming from next to you repeatedly.

Looking down at your phone to your surprise to see almost 50+ miss calls and texts from Lucifer.

You curse under your breath as you pick all your things up and hurriedly put your clothes back on. Managing to struggle putting your dress back on almost tripping and falling all the while Adam watches you from the bed with the covers only covering his bottom half as he was laid out like he wanted to be painted like a french girl with a shit-eating grin plastered along his face.

“Awww does the big man want you back already?”

Scuffing as you didn’t really want to hear any more of his smartass mouth you left heading back to you and Lucifer’s home.

——————

Later that night you feel the warmth spread in your cheeks as you did your best to avoid eye contact with your husband as he was pacing in your shared bedroom wondering where the hell you’ve been and babbling on and on about how he’s been worried sick, until you blurted out about your whereabouts.

Immediately regretting it as the words slipped from your mouth.

“HE DID WHAT?!”

Rubbing the back of your arm sheepishly as you stood there watching Lucifer’s eyes turn red as his demon form became more prominent, teeth snarling as he came closer to you. “Well….hehe…we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we my love?” danger laced in his voice as he closed the space between you two.

“oh i’m fucked.”

[norrizzandpia]

Heyo! I’m totally obsessed with your writing at the moment, can’t put my phone down! Have you seen the video of Mila watching Lando on tv and calling him “lala”? Was wondering if you could write a fic with that in it?

I have had an idea for this specific video sitting in my head FOR AGES

Lala (LN4)

Summary: When Y/n meets Lando’s family for the first time, Lando warns her about his niece who glues to his side whenever he’s around. What she isn’t expecting, however, is the heart melting nicknames he has been given. It prompts some interesting confessions.

Warnings: none

“Baby, one more thing before we go in.” Lando murmured from beside his girlfriend. His hand in wrapped in hers and she fidgeted with his fingers, nervous for the moments that were about to ensue.

Her head tilted up to look at him, “Yeah?”

A small smile graced his face and his eyes softened as he began, “My niece, Mila, likes to stick by me whenever I’m around. I don’t know how much time we’ll get alone during the next few hours.”

Y/n giggled, “Lan, that’s fine. That’s sweet anyway, means you’re good with kids.”

She whispered the last part, eyeing him suspiciously before he whispered an i love you and kissed her temple. His hand knocked against the slab of wood in front of them, anxiety heightening as Y/n began to hear footsteps approaching.

Cisca appeared, bright face and warmness to her that made Y/n feel immediately welcomed.

“Oh, how nice it is to meet you! Lando never stops talking about you!” She yelled, throwing her arms around the girl and rubbing her back lovingly.

Lando blushed as Y/n laughed, “What? There’s a lot to brag about.”

Y/n leaned into him, hand wrapped around his arm as they stepped through the threshold, “That’s sweet, Lando.”

“You’re swee-” He began, but is interrupted by the rapid beatings of little footsteps. His brother and his sister-in-law followed close behind the little girl who rounded the corner with loud giggles.

“Lala!! Lalalala!!” She screeched, arms open as she made grabby hands at Lando from her stance in front of him. Y/n’s brain began catching up with the moment, the nickname sinking in and her heart warming at the sentiment.

Lando picked Mila up, kissing her cheeks and tickling her sides lightly as he laughed with her. The image is something Y/n never wants to forget, Lando in his true element with his favorite people.

Oliver and Savannah stop, looking lovingly at Lando and their daughter, before turning their attention to his girlfriend, “Hi, it’s so great to finally meet you!”

Y/n is still entranced by the feelings stirring in her tummy to genuinely put all her thoughts into a conversation between the couple, “It’s nice to meet you as well!”

A beat passes before Y/n asks, “Did she just call Lando Lala?”

Oliver chuckles, “Yeah. She can’t pronounce his name, so it’s always been Lala.”

Lando meets Y/n’s eye, a twinkle in them he had never seen before, “Cute, right?”

Y/n’s jaw drops, “Cute? Oh my god, it’s adorable!”

The four laugh together before Savannah steals Mila away, whines emitting from the little girl in the wake of being removed from Lando’s arms. Alone in the foyer, Lando turns to Y/n, “She made me realize I think I could do the whole dad thing.”

Y/n grins, “At this point, after witnessing that, I’m going to need you to do the whole dad thing.”

Lando throws his head back as he laughs. Pulling her into him by the waist and kissing her forehead, “Yeah? Kids? A year into our relationship?”

She smacks his chest, “Not now, love. But… in a few years…” She fixes the buttons on his shirt, “Probably.”

His hand over one side of her face, Lando kisses her hair forcefully, “Good. I love you too much not to experience that with you.”

Infamous giggling returns and Savannah yelling for Mila creates new chaos as the girl rounds the same corner once more, waddling quickly to her favorite uncle. When she gets to him, Lando is already waiting, knelt down, for her with his arms outstretched.

“Lala!” She screams again and Y/n is almost ready to tell Lando she wants one now.

Lando’s arms smother Mila as he kisses her head, shaking his head at Savannah when she tries to take her child.

“I got her, it’s fine.” He says, standing up once more.

Savannah tilts her head, “You sure?”

Lando nods softly with a smile, feeling Mila rest her head on his shoulder, “Yeah, I only get to see her so often anyway.”

Savannah shrugs, leaving the room. Lando moves to get to the living room where the rest of his family is, but Y/n stops him for a moment.

Mila’s eyes are closing, Y/n can see, so she speaks in a whisper, “Thank you for letting me meet your family. I love seeing you like this, Lan.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Seeing me like what?”

She kisses the side of his mouth, careful of the sleeping girl in his arms, “Just seeing you right where you belong. Where you’re most comfortable. This is your home, I’m just happy you’re letting me into it.”

Lando coos, “Baby, you are very quickly becoming my home.”

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Housewife!reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

Word Count: 6.4 k

Warnings:

Simon has gotten in earlier than either of you expected, but instead of letting you know he doesn’t call, doesn’t text. There are other thoughts on his mind that cloud his judgment and the last thing he thinks about is wasting time focusing on messing with his phone when showing up back home is infinitely better. He’s excited to be back, chomping at the bit to get back his girl as he’s been missing you something terrible. Now that he’s back on home turf, that longing to see you again is only getting worse by the second.  

You had told him your plan for today: you wanted to make his homecoming right by cooking him a nice meal for the two of you as a celebration since he’s been gone for quite a while this round. The gesture is sweet and Simon is getting hungry… the only problem is that it isn’t for food.

He reiterates to himself on the drive back about the promise that he made to you that he would be on his best behavior today. All this trouble you are going to, he wants to be sure to show his appreciation by enjoying the hard work you’ve put in to prepare a dinner of all his favorite things and he plans to keep it by not letting his yearnings get out of hand…at least that is what he hopes.

By the time he pulls up to the house he is over two hours early from when he was meant to land and his pulse is racing as he parks on the driveway. Just a short distance more and he’s back in the company he’s been craving like crazy.

His key clicks in the lock and as he opens the door to his house he is hit by the sights and sounds of familiarity that instantly put him at ease. There are reminders of you everywhere, little touches that make this a place of comfort he looks forward to coming back to after being away. It is the sound of music echoing from the kitchen that urges him to continue forward after he shuts the door quietly, hoping to catch you by surprise. He sets his gear down by the door and creeps silently through the house, the metallic clangs of pots and utensils underneath the music now becoming more prominent as he reaches the source. 

And there you are.

The pupils of those caramel brown eyes dilate as you come into view; it has been too long since the object of his desire was standing right in front of him and fuck, do you look good. He watches you transfixed on the grace of your movements, unwavering gaze following the motions of your body as you go about the kitchen popping from the stove to the countertop singing along with the song playing over the bluetooth speakers. 

This is it, this is his little piece of heaven on earth, his oasis safe from the chaos that is his daily life, his sunshine that pierces through the darkness that clouds his thoughts, and she’s wearing his t-shirt. And only his t-shirt with your panties.

How the hell can you make something so simple look like perfection? He could very well be biased because he only has ever had eyes for you, but fuck your beauty could pull off anything. 

This right here is what keeps him going, knowing that this is what he will come home to.

He pulls his phone from out of his pocket and promptly snaps a picture, wanting to capture this innocent moment of carefree beauty that you exude now that you are alone in your own little world: humming happily to yourself, flitting about the kitchen, his baggy shirt randomly clinging to different curves as you move, your hair tied back into a low ponytail. 

In that moment, looking like you do, he wants you so bad it hurts. Your figure is only a few feet away from his grasp and yet his body is aching in pain still being this far. He has to be wrapped around you and it has to be right now. Moving with haste he pulls off his mask and gloves and discards them on the ground, removing any sign of Ghost so that he cannot taint his sweet thing with the unsavory dealings of his alter ego. He can’t wait, those lips and hands have to be on you the second they can.

Just as you go to stir the pot of vegetables bubbling away on the stove, the music cuts out abruptly and a familiar pair of arms snake their way around your waist from behind, lacing themselves across the middle of your stomach. You jump, not expecting anyone to be against you, but as soon as your eyes catch that forearm full of familiar tattoos you settle. He’s home, that’s all that matters and those nerves that have been brewing inside your chest all day turn into delicious flutters as those large hands begin to roam across your body.

The old familiar curves call to him, beckoning him to travel their paths once again. Who is he to deny them? He does not even wait as his hands paw over your stomach and hips, those large, exploratory hands taking the curves of your body into their embrace over the t-shirt until his grip is so full he can’t contain any more. 

“You’re early,” you say through a smile as you settle back into him, head resting against his shoulder. 

The warmth from his breath is at the edge of your ear as he moves his face in closer while his hands wander with purpose. His lips are ghosting themselves near the delicate skin of your earlobe teasingly until he has you squirming in his arms. "Woulda called, just wanted to get home as fast as I fuckin’ could," he groans as he tightens his grip around you to cause your back to form into the contours of his taut chest. “Had a craving for somethin’ sweet.” 

Pulling up the t-shirt just enough he moves under it with those large hands, splaying them across your soft flesh around your waist, your hips, your stomach as he takes your earlobe in his teeth to nibble at it playfully until it sends shivers down your spine.

“I missed ya, baby,” he says desperately against the side of your head.

"I missed you too," you return. 

The longer he plays up under the shirt, the more your sanity wanes. His touch is ecstasy and after not having it for so long, it is hard to not immediately succumb to its bliss. He’s barely even begun and you are already falling apart; if this keeps up you’ll never finish what you have started on the stove. 

"I wish you would have called,” you say, trying to break the spell, “cause I wanted everything to be done before you got home. I’m not ready, I’m not even dressed. I wanted this to be perfect." 

His lips move from your earlobe and start just below your jaw, making the connection against your skin over and again along the line of your jugular as he descends down your neck with kisses. He pauses against the vein there as his lips pick up the thudding as it pulses under his touch. The more his mouth lingers, the quicker it gets. 

With a smile he nuzzles his nose into your skin as his nostrils fill with your scent; the fragrance fills his head and it feels like he is being consumed. “Don’t need to get dressed,” his words breeze over your neck and down your chest, “ya look perfect just like this. How could I ask for anythin’ more?”

Simon takes the spoon out of your hand and rests it on the counter so that he can turn you around to face him; that stoic military officer is yearning to look into the face of the beauty he hasn't seen in far too fucking long. Meeting your gaze for the first time in months is akin to a contact high and immediately he is out of his goddamn mind as your eyes lock to his.

You are struggling just as badly. It is always a struggle not to miss him like crazy when he’s gone and now that he is back there is so much time to make up for. And the way he looks as he stands here in front of you, hands around your hips, isn’t helping. The universe knew what they were doing when they put Simon together and even though the black around his eyes is already smugged and his crinkled blonde hair is pressed down from being under his balaclava, the sight of him still makes your stomach flip. You are transfixed and it’s getting harder to breathe.

Brown eyes trail down your features to take you all in, drinking up every gorgeous facet of your face as his hands move to cup around the sides of your head like the frame around a work of art. Those eyes that light up whenever they look at him, that sweet mouth always ready with a smile, those soft cheeks glowing whenever he touches you, all of it a unique perfection that he cannot get enough of. Finally his sight lands on your mouth and as if drawn by an overwhelming urge he is compelled to move in.

He has to kiss you; it is suddenly unbearable that he still hasn’t tasted you yet. 

Leaning into your face he gives your lips a peck to test that they still feel the same as he remembers. Pulling back, he catches the sparkle in your eyes that tells him to do that again and he is ready to oblige. Then he steals another and another at an increasing pace until his mouth smashes against yours and latches on, drawing you in as he deepens the connection. 

His tongue meets yours and shoves its way past the barrier of your lips and into the confines of your mouth as he tastes you. Everything comes flooding back all at once and he is overtaken by all that familiarity. The longer the connection lasts the more he loses himself until he is panting into you, sharing one sticky, hot bit of air as his features shape themselves around your own to make your faces become one.

The thick stubble outlining his jaw abrades the skin of your cheeks and around your lips, making your face sting, but you don't want him to pull away. Not yet, not when his lips are making your mind hazy and your limbs tremble as all that tension that has been building for days as you wait for his return bubbles over the surface. 

His desperation is showing as his dick digs itself into your upper thigh, pulsing and throbbing the harder it gets until you cannot ignore it. Each heavy breath pushes his bulky chest against yours until you can feel his rapid pulse rushing angrily through his veins as his heartbeat pounds. 

"You’re gonna be the death ‘a me," he says quietly under his breath as he cannot think of anything else to say in that moment; his mind is too absorbed in the way your kiss is like heaven and he is succumbing to the feeling of it. “I know I said I’d wait til later, but I don’t think I can, sweetheart. It’s been hell without ya.”

At this rate Simon isn’t going to make it to dinner and you’re so close to being done, but maybe there is something you can do to sate him long enough that you can get through this. With a bit of struggle you break the kiss and pull away as he desperately tries to wrangle you back in so that you have to place your hand on his chest to get him to pause.

Giving Simon’s lower lip one last quick nip you slowly lower yourself to your knees before him, your fingers lacing into the leather of his belt as you fiddle with the buckle. “Then how about I give you a little something to keep you satisfied til dinner’s over?” you suggest as you look up at him with those pretty doe-eyes. “Something to make you feel better?” 

His chest heaves up and down with each laborious breath he takes as you jump into unhooking the metal of his buckle and pulling the leather through until the belt hangs loosely around his hips. Your fingers slide down the zipper, but before you can do more his hands press yours into place along the lower portion of his pelvis so that you can’t keep undressing him.

“Ya don’t have to do this,” he mildly protests. Simon knows if you don’t stop he isn’t going to be able to either and this dinner is going to take a detour, though he can’t lie that he wants you to keep going. 

Giving you a look, he waits to see if you stand back up, but you only smile as you pull your hands back out from underneath his. “I want to do this for you, baby,” you reassure, lifting the bottom of his shirt and leaning in to kiss along the light colored patch of hair that trails down into his boxers as you finish undoing his pants. 

How in the hell is someone supposed to resist this? Simon is strong, he would not have gotten far in life if he wasn’t, but not this strong. You reach the waistband of his underwear with your lips and meet the seam with your fingers to pull them down under his ass low enough that you can release his thick, fat cock.

He is hard already, the tip swollen and angry, and the veins running through it visibly throbbing. The inside of your mouth salivates as it remembers the feeling of being stuffed with that girthy appendage. You keep the spit gathered on your tongue as you lean in and open your lips.

Taking the tip of your tongue you trace the head of his cock as your hand at the base keeps his foreskin pulled back. A breathy moan rumbles out from somewhere deep inside his chest, low and guttural as his hips buck and his ass hits into the ledge of the kitchen counter, making his belt jingle from the movement.

“Fuck,” he chokes out as his head falls back and his eyelids momentarily close. “Forgot how that pretty mouth feels ‘round me.”

He can feel a tightening around him as your lips contort into a smile, excited that you can still make that big ol boy come undone with something as simple as your mouth. Clearly he has been just as worked up as you have been for him to get home. As Simon settles back against the countertop with his palm on your cheek, his thumb lovingly strokes the corner of your full mouth as you continue on.

Your lips around him, wet and messy, suck him in until his cock reaches the threshold of your throat. Those pretty eyes of yours lift back up to look into his face, keeping contact as you choke around him, vision swimming with tears while your head bobs up and down in a steady rhythm. Your lips are bright red and swollen from his kiss, your cheeks blossoming with heated color, that lust-drunk look plastered on your face; it all makes up the gorgeous picture. The visual makes his blood pressure rise until his limbs are vibrating with the racing beats of his heart. 

The slurping sounds of your saliva-filled mouth being fucked is punctuated by sparse gags; it hasn’t been this full for a while and it’s going to take some getting used to. Still, you don’t slow your pace, even as his hips begin thrusting against your face the longer you go. It’s like you’d rather suck him off than breathe and goddamn is that a turn-on. 

Simon releases your cheek so that he can rest his hands on the counter behind him. He hasn’t had you like this in so long that it doesn’t take much to overwhelm him now. That pressure deep inside is building to its peak, drawing his body to the edge of its release with each pass of your mouth over him from as far down the base as you can reach back to the tip. His hands grip hard into the surface behind him until his knuckles turn white.

Shit, he is going to come just like he knows you want, but it is at that moment that he realizes that he doesn’t want to just take this quick blow job and be done with you until later. Simon needs you, all of you, under his touch and at his disposal right this fucking second. Suddenly he is pulling out of your mouth and situating his cock back into the confines of his pants as you stare up at him with your head tilted in confusion. 

“What’s…” you start to ask, but before the words can even leave your lips you are being pulled to your feet. He doesn’t say a word as he wipes away a bit of spittle that has dripped from the corner of your mouth, using his thumb to remove it before he kisses you full force again. 

It's too much, too strong an all consuming feeling to stop and so without warning he pulls from you and throws you over his broad shoulder to carry you out of the room in a rush. He is frantic; he needs to have you now and can’t wait to drag you all the way to the bedroom. No, it’s too far.

Scanning around him as his aroused brain tries to find the fastest solution, he spots it. The dining table that you’ve set special for tonight is just a few feet away and he instantly brings you over to it. Dishes clank and clatter, ceramic and glass hitting itself as he hurriedly shoves everything out of his way to make room for your body before setting you on the surface.

"I know you’re not done cookin’, but I’m hungry for somethin' else," he breathes as he sets you down and lays you back. “I need ya now…waited too long for this.”

The movement has caused your shirt to get pulled up off your stomach and the uncovered area catches his eye; more skin that he desperately needs to claim and now. He brushes his fingertips down across your waist and over your navel, past to your lower abdomen until he lightly grazes the seam of your panties. He can feel the goosebumps forming under his touch and he can hear the hitch in your breathing the lower he gets. 

Reaching your sex he cups his wide palm over the mound and applies pressure. It is warm to the touch and he can feel it radiate into his hand. You buck against him, squirming at the unexpected sensitivity with a gasp. All that softness of your body, so delicate to the touch like silk against his skin, it’s too much for him to handle. Simon has had months and months of only rough, coarse, and rugged things from the brutal environment he was forced to endure, but the moment his fingers grace across all that balmy flesh his brain short-circuits.

It’s not just your looks that drive him wild, though. You are the one bit of happiness he keeps separate from the brutality of his work, the sanctuary that he looks forward to coming home to, the calm in his stormy existence. That's why he suggested he take care of the money so you could stay at home, not bother yourself with working, so that the harsh world wouldn't taint your sweet demeanor with its cruelty. And in return you take care of his life, never asking for anything as you make sure everything here runs smoothly.

"You're always takin’ care a me, makin' sure that everything is perfect when I get back home," he says as he gets more worked up. "Now it's my turn to return the favor. Goddammit, I just wanna screw the hell outta my pretty girl until she can’t move."

Firm hands cup against your hips as his fingertips slip between your panties and your warm skin, tangling them in the fabric so that he can pull them down your thighs and off your legs. Your bare petals faintly glisten as he gets a peak at them through the tight space between your legs, a product of his minimal touch already working on your body; nice to know he still has that effect on you no matter how much time you’ve spent apart. He slides his hands between your thighs, parting them easily as a knife in warm butter, until his hand is deep enough that he can stop and separate them so that the gap is wide and his body can easily fit in between.

"All this for me?” he asks as he stares like an animal starved at your pussy, mouth salivating to play. "Bet you’ve been achin’ somethin’ terrible since I left. Do ya need me ta fix that?”

“Yes,” you breathe.Your body is radiating with the intensity of every sensation that courses through your limbs like an electrical current everywhere Simon touches you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says as he glides his hand up so his fingers can part through the lips of your pussy.

Two of those thick fingers slide between the petals of your sex towards your entrance, gathering as much of your slick as he can on his digits. Carefully he teases them around the rim of your core, circling it through the dampness gathering in your slit. “One or two?” he asks as your back arches off the table, the stimulation driving you to the brink of insanity; it’s been too long since you’ve felt his fingers there.

You swallow hard. “T-two,” you beg. At this point, any amount will work as long as they are his and as long as they get inside you.

“Oh sweetheart, that’s what I like ta hear,” he praises as he aligns his fingers with your opening and slowly fits those two long fingers inside and up into you. “Fuck, there ya go. Just breathe for me, that’s it. Let your body do all the work and take ‘em in.”

They slip up further into your cunt and with a slow pace he begins to pump in and out of you while the overwhelming pressure causes you to arch your back up off the table. Instinctively, your hips buck against his hand, trying to make as much contact with him as possible. 

Those long, coarse fingers curl inside you continuously as his heavy palm rests over top of your sex to put pressure so that he can make more contact and cause more friction with your G spot as his thumb nestles against your clit. Your body writhes against the table, your head falling back with eyes closed as the twinges of pleasure spring up your spine and Simon is grinning from ear to ear to see he still knows how to work his sweetheart just the way she likes.

As he watches you fall apart to the stroking of his fingers, from the corner of sight he catches it: that bounce at the top of your torso under the shirt. It’s as if he suddenly remembers about those beautiful breasts as they rebound with his strokes and out of a drunken haze he is consumed by the need to see them.

Pushing the bottom of your shirt up over your chest, it’s revealed that you don’t have on a bra and his breath hitches to see those perky tits he’s been dreaming of burying his face in staring right back at him. Fuck, he can’t stop himself from getting at all that juicy meat and quickly he leans over you with a groan from the table so that he can reach you with his mouth. Lightly he grazes his teeth over the delicate skin of your nipple to make the little bud grow hard under the sharp contact.

"Oh God, Simon," his name falls from your lips in a breathy prayer.

The sweet sound of his name being spoken in such a desperate way only spurns him on; he needs to hear it as many times as he can make you repeat it, especially after not being able to hear it at all while he was gone. "Say it again," he demands, never lifting his face from your breasts, just switching sides periodically to get them both engaged.

His tongue flicks at the hardened nipple and it makes you whimper as the stimulation runs down your body like liquid fire until you can feel its effects radiating in your clit each time his thumb strokes over it. You know that he wants you to say his name again, but you don’t know if you can. It’s too much stimulation that you are losing your ability to speak.  

"Simon," you say as your voice shakes.  

His hum of satisfaction vibrates through the tissue of your breast. "Again," he repeats firmly before drawing it fully into his mouth. Latching on he takes as much of your breast as he can fit and sucks down hard. 

“S-simon,” your desperate voice clumsily moans. 

Tiny beads of sweat form along the line of your body as it burns with the intensity of the ecstasy you feel under his expert care. He’s in your head, in the very marrow of your bones; there isn’t a part of you that isn’t consumed by him. Those rough fingers grinding away into your pussy and his mouth on your body all pail in comparison to the way his kiss had felt on your lips. That desperate, consuming, overwhelming kiss is your drug and you need another hit.

Your fingers lace into his short hair and you tug hard to pull him from your chest, only then does he unlatch himself from your breast as you guide him back up to your mouth. Simon’s lips are nearly raw and yet he takes yours as roughly as he had in the kitchen, never slowing the pace of his finger fucking. 

It’s like liquid fire, your kiss, and he sucks down with a hunger that cannot be quenched. The sound of your sloppy lips match the wet slaps currently being produced between your legs. Simon is drunk as his mouth takes and takes and takes, and yet… 

His mouth craves more, another set of lips.

The pad of his tongue makes contact with your clit and you jolt, making the table creak as the over-stimulation sends shock waves through your needy body. You can feel the sigh he releases against you as he begins to suck on the nodule of pleasure while flicking it with his tongue; it’s hard to think amongst the staggering overstimulation is leaving you begging and pleading for mercy.

Simon pulls from you amidst your whined protests to drop to his knees before you, giving those thick thighs his attention. His face comes level with your pussy that is absolutely soaked from the work of his fingers and raising your legs to rest your ankles on his shoulders, he dives in. Instantly his face is buried in your heat and as he brushes his tongue through your slit his mouth is filled with your nectar, that tangy burst of flavor that he can not get enough of. It is slathering all over the lower half of his face, coating him from his nose to his chin in the scent of your arousal.

Your thighs squeeze around his head and then release. “I can’t…I-I can’t…” you murmur as you try to move from him.

His mouth releases from you. “Yes, yes ya can, baby. Now, come on my face,” he says fiercely as he grips into the muscle of your hips with all his strength, secures you to his sharp features, and dives right back in like a man starved. 

“F-f-fuck,” you groan as your hands seize the tablecloth in your fists, that coil of pleasure tightening in your stomach tighter with each flick of his tongue. 

Feverish movements against that erogenous button are no longer controlled as he devours all he can, forcing your body towards that ledge to throw you off into ecstasy. He craves it, burns for it, and would die for it: the way you feel, the way you taste, the way your hips writhe against his advances, it all makes him rabid.

As your breath grows shorter and shorter, he knows it's not far; just a bit more suffocation on his part and you will be done in. He moves his face down to tease your hole with his tongue as his nose takes over on your clit. You are so hot it feels like someone has set you on fire as the knot in your stomach gathers to its breaking point. It’s there, right there within reach; just a little more and you are going to come hard and he’ll get his wish. 

Those desperate whimpers quiet all of a sudden and he knows it’s happening; with a few more flicks of his tongue you plunge off the edge with a cry as your thighs clamp down tight around his ears so that he is blocked against you, but that is exactly what he wants. Those seconds after your orgasm shakes through you are his favorite: you writhing uncontrollably over him as he continues to stroke his tongue through you until that high has finally worn off.

Nothing has ever felt better and after not having this for months, it is pure heaven.

It isn’t until you settle down and your legs open back up that he emerges with his face covered in the sticky juices of your cum and his saliva. He is grinning like he has just been given a present, even as he wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand before wiping the slick on his t-shirt.

“Fuckin’ fantastic as always, baby,” he breathes. “But I ain’t done with ya yet. I think we can get at least one more orgasm from ya right now. Come ‘ere.”

He helps your weak body to sit up on the edge of the table to embrace your lips, hoping to reinvigorate you to keep going with the intensity of his desire. You can taste yourself in his kiss, a mixture of sweet and salty that combines with his natural tang to become the flavor of your union. The kiss only lasts a few more seconds, but after just being made to come the exhaustion makes it feel like a lifetime… not that you are complaining.

Pulling from you, he tugs at the crotch of his pants; he can’t wait anymore. “I need ya ta get up and turn ‘round, sweet thing,” he says, guiding you up and rotating you around before pushing you back down onto the table, this time on your stomach. “Gotta get inside. Need ta fill ya.”

The sound of metal jingles as he lowers his pants as his knee pushes against your inner thigh to spread you wider. He releases his cock again and squats down lower so that he can align the tip with your entrance. You can feel it press through the swollen lips of your pussy and you ready yourself for that moment when you’ll be split open.

He can already feel your dampness on his cock as he guides it through and without hesitation he grabs your hips and thrusts inside all the way down to the very base of his cock. Simon instantly bottoms out and needs a second to collect himself; it’s been too fucking long since he’s been inside you and if he isn’t careful he is going to come to quick for him. 

Those rough fingers dig in deeper to your hips as he tries to hold on for dear life. “Goddammit, baby,” he groans. “I’ve missed this.”

His girth stretches your core wide to its limit so that the walls of your cunt can’t help but feel every single detail of his cock: every enlarged vein, the exact curve of it, each and every crease.

It’s like he’s imprinting it with his signature, letting your pussy know that the one it belongs to is home once again.

Hips begin to rock slowly at first and are immediately punctuated by deep-throated groans as he cannot keep himself calm for long no matter how hard he tries. Your body is too much like paradise, so devastatingly amazing that even though he is desperately clawing at his sanity it is slipping through his fingers faster and faster with each thrust like sand in a sieve. Pulling almost completely out of you he slams back into your core down to the base, repeating this over and over with a ferocity that only gets worse. 

Your body rocks, breasts bouncing and bunching the tablecloth as you are pressed into the surface; you can only moan as the uncomfortable fullness becomes euphorically intoxicating. The table squeaks and strains against each plunge of him deeper into your pussy, threatening to break under the force at any second. Plates and silverware clatter to the floor as they are knocked off and yet you do not care. He will just replace them anyway so there is no sense to take yourself out of the moment to worry about it. 

"Ya look so fuckin' pretty with my cock buried in ya," he grunts. "My sweet girl, my good little wife, always keepin' my balls empty. How'd I get so goddamn lucky to marry someone so good, yeah?"

Desperately he grinds harder and harder into you as if he cannot get deep enough, like he cannot fill you full enough. The recoil of your ass as he pounds into you from behind is something he can’t pull his sight from even if he wants to. He is mesmerized, watching himself disappear into the confines of your body only to reemerge more coated in your juices than when he went in. 

“I want ta feel ya pulse around me each letter of my name,” he says as his hand runs down the length of your spine. “Come on, baby, let me fuckin’ feel it.”

You follow his command and flex the muscles in your pelvis. Ten letters isn’t that much, not for him; you do it all for him, anything he asks, anything he needs because you know that he is just as whipped for you as you are for him and this is the way to keep him coming back like a good little pup.

He’s panting like a bitch in heat behind you. “That’s it, fuck, just as that.”

So wet, so tight, the pulsing, the throbbing, the speckles of sweat covering your bodies, his hands grabbing at skin, your hips grinding into him… it’s all too much. “Keep going,” you beg with a shudder. “Fuck, Simon right there.”

You can feel him hitting that sensitive spot inside, his cock pounding over it at the perfect angle, and your limbs tingle as the second coming is fast approaching. There is only one man who can make you come multiple times and it is and always has been your husband. And now his complete possession of your body is almost finished.

“Come on, my pretty girl, gimme another,” he urges enthusiastically as he hears your whimpers get louder while your body trembles. “I know ya have another for me and I fuckin’ want it.”

He pounds into you as if his life is dependent on your orgasm and you steady yourself by gripping onto the edge of the tabletop. The pressure builds and builds, a scourge to your sanity until all at once that bolt of hot electricity shoots through your limbs and your head falls forward with a whine as your second orgasm rockets through you so hard that you are left a mewling mess.

“Yes, yes, that’s it,” Simon growls as he finally allows himself to let go and all that build up, all that pining, all that longing for this moment comes to a head and with a few more hard, deep strokes inside your spasming pussy he too comes undone.

A roar rips through his chest as he pulls out and comes across your back, stroking his hand over his cock until he can milk himself dry. You close your eyes, laying your head down as he finishes and grabs a napkin that sits on the table above your head to wipe the cum off. His limbs feel heavy as he sits you back upright to face him. 

Simon simply stares into your face for a while, letting you both just work to catch your breaths. There are no words that need be said, not between you both. Once he is more calm, he gently pushes a strand of hair off your glistening face and tucks it behind your ear.  

“Ya did so well for me, sweetheart,” he says sweetly, placing a softer kiss on your lips as his heart slows. 

“Always for you,” you return with a smile against his lips. 

As you both stand there in the midst of the afterglow of your euphoria, a smell begins to waft in from the kitchen. It is unmistakably the scent of something burning. You poke your head around him just to be sure there isn’t a fire on the stove before turning back to his face.

“I hope you like your food burnt cause that’s what we’re gonna be having now,” you laugh as he pulls you back in for one more kiss, letting his forehead rest against yours.

“Guess its a good fuckin’ thing I filled up on the first course then,” he says as you tut in fake exasperation. He lowers his voice. “But ya know… if the food’s ruined, maybe we should just go ta bed.”

Something about the way he says it and the glint in his eye as you pull back, it doesn’t sound like you are going to be sleeping anything off.

[demonvibez]

Hello, I came here to ask you a request: Mc is wearing a pajama (nightgown, little shorts, whatever you want) that shows a little bit too much. So one day, Mc comes down to the kitchen in the middle of the night, taking advantage about the brothers sleeping in their rooms so no one would see her like this, and suddenly, she bump into one of the brothers. How would they react?

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, and sorry for the delay! I started working on it, got writer's blocked, solved the block, then got...inspired, lol. This ended up being like 8 lil narrative one shots. Anyways - This is only part one of two; hope you like! ♡

Characters: [Lucifer / Mammon / Leviathan / Satan] x F! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k+

Rating: Teen [Suggestive Themes]

Tags: suggestive/sexual themes, making out, light petting/groping, reader = she/her pronouns, each demon has a lil backstory

[Part One of Two - Read Part Two Here]

It was late at night in the House of Lamentation, and you had just finished preparing yourself for bed. You had finished your homework for the day, as well as your nighttime routine, and it was time for you to settle down. Just as you sit down on the edge of your bed, you start thinking about how it would be nice to have a quick little snack before you turn in to sleep for the night. Picking up your DDD from the nightstand, you check the time to see just how late it was. You decide that it was probably late enough for everyone to be asleep, and it was safe to venture out into the house alone with what you are wearing - a skimpy spaghetti strap tank top and tiny shorts that leave little to the imagination. You push yourself up off the bed and cross the room, making your way towards the door. Leaving your bedroom door open, you make your way towards the kitchen next door . . .

For the Avatar of Pride, staying up late and overworking himself was a normal part of his daily routine. Usually after dinner, he hides himself away in his study so that he can start working his way through the mountains of paperwork sent to him from his superiors. Usually every night, he has the same routine - he finishes his RAD related paperwork, takes a break to patrol the House, stops by the kitchen for a cup of Hell Coffee and then back up to his study to deal with the paperwork associated with his political duties. 

Lucifer starts making his way down the hall for his nightly rounds through the House, as he normally does at this hour. He usually does this in order to make sure his brothers’ mischief was kept at a minimum, but it’s in order to keep you safe as well. He couldn't help but to notice that the chaos in their House had increased quite a bit since you had arrived - some of it from his brothers dragging you into their antics, some of it chaos created all on your own, and some of it external chaos that seeks to consume your beautifully shiny soul. When you first arrived here, you used to be a major source of his headaches. He used to struggle with how to punish you, seeing as you were the fragile little human sent here for Lord Diavolo's exchange mission. But now, the more Lucifer thinks about you, he cannot deny to himself the fondness that has grown for you within his heart. A smile twitches at his lips for a brief moment before he refocuses himself on his task.

Just as he is making his way down the stairs to check the first floor, he hears a noise coming from the kitchen area, a faint glow emitting from its frame and spilling into the hallway. He lets out an exasperated sigh to himself, believing it to be Beelzebub on one of his frivolous late night snack missions. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, he strides towards the kitchen door, scripting the lecture he wants to give in his mind as he walks. How many times must he punish the Sixth Born? 

When he reaches the doorway, he halts at the unexpected sight before him, and he can’t help but to stand back and observe. He sees you in the kitchen, illuminated by the light of the refrigerator, looking through what’s left of its contents for a snack. You look so innocent while doing so, completely unaware of your surroundings. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this - hell, he wasn’t even used to seeing you dressed like this. Usually dressed in your RAD uniform, the attire you were currently wearing is much more revealing than what he is used to seeing you in. The way the thin cotton fabric clings to your curves, he couldn't stop his eyes from roaming your entire body. You grab something from the fridge, closing it before making your way over to the kitchen island with the leftover Acidic Hell Fries you found. Sitting down with your back turned to the door, you open up the tray and lean in to take a bite, all the while Lucifer can’t help but notice the way your shirt rides up the arch of your back, the way the waistband of your shorts sit right at your hip, the way your skin just looks so soft. He wasn’t sure how a human could stir up such emotions in him, but he was in fact curious to see where it would take him. 

In a rare moment of impulsivity, Lucifer swiftly makes his way towards you. Before you even have time to register the Avatar of Pride's presence, he sets both of his hands on the table on each side of you, effectively trapping you between him and the counter. He leans down closer to your ear, the scent of his cologne filling your senses, as he whispers your name into your ear with a very seductive tone. "What do you think you're doing here," he asks, his tone husky as you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning against your skin. Your pulse accelerates as he presses his lips to your earlobe, his gloved hands now slowly finding their way around your waist as Lucifer trails light kisses down the soft flesh of your neck. You would usually have some sort of snarky comeback for Lucifer, stating how it was obvious why you were in the kitchen shoveling fries into your face at half past midnight. But in this moment you couldn't muster up a retort, your brain beginning to fog up with the haze of pleasure that Lucifer's touch can bring. As he continued to tease your neck, occasionally nipping at it with his fangs, his hands began to drift lower on your body, lightly teasing at your waistband. One of his hands pulls your chin up to him, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips collide with yours in a way that sets your soul ablaze with passion.

He slowly pulls away from the kiss, your eyes slowly opening to see his crimson orbs gazing back at you with lust, love and admiration. He slightly loosens his hold on you, before turning you around on the barstool you sat upon to face him. He brushes the hair out of your eyes, tucking it back behind your ear before leaning down to press one more kiss on your lips. When he pulled away this time, you chased his lips with his own, filling him with a sense of pride at the idea that you're craving more of him - much like he craves more of you. He lets out a small chuckle before suddenly sweeping you up in his arms, your legs dangling over one side while your arms instinctively wrap around his neck for safety.  "We're heading straight to my room," he said along with your name in a confident tone, "and I hope you have plenty of energy, because we won't be getting much sleep tonight." He carried you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, taking no time getting you to his room and into his silk sheets. 

Mammon had just recently arrived home about an hour ago from one of his many side hustles he did to help earn some extra Grimm and pay back a few of his debts. The witches have been hassling him even more than normal recently, threatening a variety of curses if he doesn't comply with their demands, so he's had to take up multiple side hustles in order to make enough money. He could have sworn he paid them off a while ago - math is one of Mammon's strong suits and he always keeps his debt ledger up to date. He's pretty damn sure the witches are just jealous of you, and take it out on him one of the few ways they know will work. They would never mess with you directly - and risk earning the wrath of all seven Avatars of Sin? And perhaps even the Future King of the Devildom himself? Hell nah. They'll just keep toying with Mammon the way they know best.

Normally, Mammon would be pretty exhausted after a grueling shift of serving tables at Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight for some reason, he was feeling restless and couldn’t seem to settle down. He had completed his nightly routine and settled into bed, but he found himself feeling restless, scrolling Devilgram instead and finding himself growing bored rather quickly. After tossing and turning in his bed for what felt to him like an eternity, he let out an annoyed groan and pushed himself out of bed. If he couldn’t lull himself to sleep, he might as well go find his favorite human. He crossed the room to pick up his designer underwear and sweatpants off the couch, slipping them both on before making his way to the door. Once his door is closed, he starts briskly but silently making his way across the hall and down the stairs, doing his best to avoid running into any of his brothers - namely, Lucifer. 

Making a beeline straight for your room, Mammon notices the door is open and just walks inside as if he owns the place. “Oi, human! I’m bored, why don't ya-” he says, before looking around to see that the room is actually empty. “Where the hell even are ya,” he mumbles to himself with an exasperated huff, turning about-face and exiting your room. As he steps out into the hallway, he finally notices the kitchen light is on. He starts stomping his way over to the kitchen, mumbling something about how much work it is to watch after one stupid little human, when he crosses the threshold of the door and almost bumps into you as he is turning the corner. "Aye, what gives," he says in an almost shouting tone, "ya gotta watch it, human! Ya gotta be more careful! Ya ain't always gonna have the Great Mammon to..." he trailed off as he finally looks down at you, taking in fully just how you look and what you are wearing. His eyes widen and his jaw drops, standing there completely frozen in shock as his eyes scan you up and down repetitively. 

Despite the many times the two of you have shared a bed, he has never seen you wear something so small and form fitting as pajamas before. Usually when he was over, you'd just wear an oversized tee shirt and some baggy sweatpants, which was usually cute and endearing in its own way. But tonight, since you assumed you would be spending the night alone, you wore something you thought no one would see you in. And now here you are in the kitchen, the Avatar of Greed stood in front of you, a blushing and stammering mess. The more of his golden eyes took in of you, the more he could feel the greed rise up within him. Every little inch of skin, every little curve of your body has Mammon craving more and more, his avarice knowing no bounds when it comes to you. Typically, in moments like these, the tsundere side of Mammon's brain would kick in, and a flurry of denials would leave his lips before you could even playfully accuse him of anything. Seeing you like this has Mammon forgetting all about those silly habits, his mind focused on wanting only one thing - you.

In this moment, Mammon can't help but succumb to his greed. His hands reach out to pull you into his bare chest, his demon form now on full display and eyes glowing as gold as Grimm. His arms tighten around you in a possessive hold as he buries his face in your hair, your scent as intoxicating to him as the most expensive Demonus on record. You feel his hands roam your body, feeling both his soft skin and his rings' hard metal gliding up and down your back. You melt into his touch, your arms instinctively wrapping around his torso.  "I've been lookin' for ya," he mumbles into your hair. Before you can even fathom a response, Mammon's hands find their way under your ass, hoisting you up and setting you on the counter. He leans in and presses his lips to yours with a sense urgency you hadn't seen from the Avatar of Greed previously, his yearning and need for you growing with each kiss. As his tongue brushes your lips, they part and allow him entrance, and the way your two tongues dance with each other sends Mammon over the edge, feeling that same greed start to build within you. Mammon's kisses became hungrier and sloppier the more he could feel his sin in the air, a hint of lust mixing with it as his hands squeeze your ass, your own hands roaming his beautifully brown torso. "Mine," he states simply, as he breaks the kiss momentarily. 

He picks you up once again, your legs squeezing his waist as you fling your arms around his neck. He runs off with you to his room to have his way with you - and to hoard you to himself like the Devildom's finest treasure.

It wasn’t at all unusual for Leviathan to stay up all hours of the night. On this night in particular he was counting down the hours until the newest merch drop from his favorite idol group, Sucre Frenzy. He picks up his Bufo Egg Milk Tea to take a sip, only to hear the slurping sound of his cup being empty. Looking at the clock at the bottom right of his monitor, he mentally notes that he still has an hour and a half before the drop, which should be more than enough time to run downstairs and raid the fridge. He presses pause on the song he was listening to on Devilfy, pulling off his headset and making his way out of his bedroom door. He pulls his DDD out of the pocket of his hoodie, swiping it open and pressing on the 'Mononoke Land' app. Checking to see if there were currently any in-game spirits lurking in the House, Levi games as he presses forward towards the kitchen, his own IRL mission falling to the back of his mind as he continued to focus on the side quest on his phone. One hand in his pocket while the other clutches his device, his tail slides along the handrail of the staircase, making sure he doesn't stumble as he tunes out the rest of the world. 

He really hopes you can make it to hang out for the drop tonight! When he invited you at dinner you seemed interested, but you told him you weren't sure if you'd be able to stay awake that late or not. He would really love it if you are able to - everything is more enjoyable for the Lord of Shadows when he has his Henry by his side! It makes him excited even thinking about it! Maybe he'll swing by your room on the way back from the kitchen and see if you're awake! Or...that maybe awkward? What if you're asleep and he wakes you up? What if he annoys you? Maybe he'll just send you a text instead. Either way, he loves you more than all of his anime combined, and it would be the highlight of his entire month to spend tonight's event with you.

Refocusing on his game, he turns the corner to cut back towards the kitchen. He doesn't even notice the kitchen light on ahead, nor does he hear the clattering and clanking coming from inside. All he can seem to focus on is Mononoke Land. As he walks past your room, he does a double take, expecting to see you in your bed. On second glance, he notices you missing from your room, and Leviathan couldn't help but be confused as he pauses in your doorway. It's almost one in the morning and you aren't in your room?! Where in the Devildom could you possibly be?! You're probably hanging out with one of his brothers, aren't you?! You're probably in one of their rooms, in one of their beds, doing Dia knows what while he's down here getting some stupid snacks for his stupid merch drop. 'Stupid stupid stupid I'm so stupid! Of COURSE she wouldn't want to waste time her time with a disgusting otaku like me! IT'S NOT FAIR IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!!' A wave of envy washes over him so powerful that he fights everything within himself not to summon Lotan and flood the House. His fists clench his DDD, stressing it from the pressure as his knuckles turn white. His eyes blaze a bright orange as jealousy rages within him like a hurricane brewing over the sea.  

Wanting nothing more than to barricade himself in his room and never come out, Leviathan angrily marched onward towards the kitchen, determined to get his snacks and get the hell back to his room so he can wallow in his feelings. Hastily making his way through the kitchen's threshold, he doesn't see you as he barrels straight into you, knocking you backwards. Before his mind can fully process what's going on, his tail grabs ahold of you, wrapping around your waist and preventing you from hitting the floor. His eyes finally connect with yours, and he realizes that it's you he has run into. A quick scan of the room tells him you had been in here alone, and suddenly he feels foolish for the jealous tantrum he was throwing in his mind. 

"I-I'm s-s-sorry...I didn't see y-you th-" he stammers, now looking down at you to see exactly what you were dressed in. Is this what you normally wear to bed? Levi hadn't ever seen anything like it in real life. The way the fabric highlights all of your best features, putting just the right amount of emphasis on how perfect your curves were...he could have sworn you were drawn by his favorite manga artist. His eyes roamed your body up and down, his face heating up as rapidly as his heart rate is rising. 'OH FUCK, I'm staring aren't I?! She probably hates me, I'm so gross, such a worthless perv, I need to stop staring WHATTHEFUCKDOIDO?!?' he panics internally, his hands starting to tremble. He tilts his head down to focus on the floor, when he finally processes that his tail has been autonomously wrapped around your waist the entire time. "I'M SO SORRY," he half shouts at you, as he starts to unravel his tail. 

Suddenly, Levi takes pause, as he hears you gently call out his name, one of your hands resting on his tail while the other reaches out to stroke his cheek. "Levi...whatever you're thinking right now...stop," you reassured him. Before he could hide his face from you, you leaned in to press your lips to his in a soft but loving kiss. At first, Levi just stands there frozen in shock but after a moment he kisses you back. He's still unsure of what to do with himself - he doesn't want to ruin this moment - but he doesn't want it to end either, so he stands with his hands awkwardly at his sides and pours every ounce of love of passion he can into the kiss. While he may not know what to do with his hands, his tail seemed to enjoy exploring your body, causing you to let out a tiny soft moan when it makes its way around the top of your thigh. You wrap your arms around his neck, continuing the kiss as you press your body against his. 

After a few more moments, the two of you pull away from each other, both trying to catch your breaths. Before Leviathan could even muster a response, you grab his hand, the sweetest of smiles plastered across your face. "Come on, let's go to your room, Levia-chan. I can think of a few ways for us to kill time until your merch drop launches," you said as you start pulling him towards the door. Suddenly you weren't tired, and Levi didn't care about the snacks - with you, he may even end up forgetting about the merch drop.

Before you had even thought of grabbing a snack from the kitchen, Satan had already made his way down there and was rifling his way through the fridge looking for something suitable to feed his secret kitten friend out in the garden. Earlier in the night, Satan came outside to the garden in order to calm down and let his inner rage subside. He had wanted to spend the remainder of his evening with you curled up in his lap as he reads to you, a warm fire crackling in the fireplace nearby, as the two of you ignore the world for each other and a great plotline - there was no other way he'd rather spend his evening. But of course, his insufferable eldest brother had to stick his prideful nose in where it didn't belong and drag you away, just as he was asking you to join him after dinner. It was almost as if the Avatar of Pride has an extra sense for when Satan wanted alone time with you, always interfering and coming up with some smug excuse as to why you need to be stolen away right when Satan needs you. That pompous ass was always going out of his way to stoke the flames of Satan's wrath on purpose! 'One day he'll get back at that bastard, he'll put him right in his place!'  

Satan continued pacing in circles in the garden, his demon form on full display as rage flows through him like an ice river through one of the lower pits of hell. He wasn't doing the best job at calming himself down at first, you not being there to help ground him, so it was taking a bit longer than normal. It was always so much easier to calm himself with you there - just a few simple words or a quick hug usually doing the trick. But for now he was alone, and he was drawing a blank on what he else should do. He completed one more pace around the garden before, before letting out an annoyed huff and sat himself down on the nearest bench. As he was about to pull out his DDD to text you to see where you were, he hears a rustling in the bushes. His emerald eyes scan the area, no signs of life immediately apparently, before he sees a pair of glowing eyes peer out at him from underneath one of the bushes. A small smile tugs at his lips as it dawns on him who the eyes belong to - one of his stray feline friends that likes to wander through every now and then. He pushes himself up off the bench and slowly crosses over towards the cat, holding out his hand as he tries to coax it out of the bush. The cat immediately starts to back into the bush, shaking it's head at Satan, causing him to take pause. He chuckles to himself as he comes to the realization of what she is asking for - the cat wants a treat. 

Satan straightens himself up, making his way back into the House to find some cat friendly snacks in the kitchen. When he arrives there, he is alone, and makes a beeline straight for the fridge. It was usually wishful thinking for anyone in the House of Lamentation to try to hide food in the kitchen, but sometimes Satan was able to get away with it for the sake of his kitten buddies. Crouching down to open the bottom drawer, Satan reaches in to pull out some of the Devildom cat treats he had stashed back behind the drawer. Setting the pouch of treats on the counter, he opens up one of the cupboards and pours what is left of the treats onto a saucer, before tossing the empty wrapper in the trash and making his way towards the kitchen door. Little did he expect in all of this, you came walking through the door at the same time, neither of you really paying attention. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you quite literally run into each other, the saucer of meaty cat treats smooshing against Satan's chest and then dropping to the floor. Satan can feel his wrath rising inside him once again, drenching him like an ice cold shower, his aura turning dark as his demon form makes an appearance once again. He hasn't even looked up to see who caused the collision, assuming one of his brothers is to blame yet again, his jaw clenching as his mind races to formulate it's retaliation. 

His glowing green eyes finally lift to see exactly who the guilty party is, only for his eyes to meet yours instead. You begin to stammer out a stream of apologies, but seeing you immediately calms the inner turmoil of his mind, the storm suddenly calm within him. 

His gazes roams over you for a moment, Satan suddenly finding himself speechless as he takes in exactly how breathtaking you look in such casual attire. The way straps of your tank top accentuate your collar bones, giving way to how the fabric hugs your perfect chest...Satan suddenly couldn't remember what he was mad about in any point in the day. He couldn't even bother to care why he was in the kitchen in the first place. He gently takes one of your hands with both of his, raising it to his lips to press a kiss into your knuckles. A warm smile spreads across his face as his hands find your hips, pulling you closer into him. One of his hands moves to rub the small of your back as the other tilts your chin upwards to him. He holds your gaze for a moment, adoration apparent in his eyes, before he leans in to share a passionate kiss with you. 

The moment his lips caress your own, your heartbeat goes through the roof, and you can't help but to lean into him and melt into his touch. His hand on your chin moves to hold the back of your neck, his tongue brushing your bottom lip, asking for more. Your hands find themselves on his chest as your lips back, your tongues clashing together in a desperate bid to feel more of each other. Your hands slide down his chest and abs, lightly tugging at his belt when you get to his waist. He chuckles into the kiss before nipping at your bottom lip with one of his fangs, grabbing your hips with both hands as he slows the pace of the kiss. 

Eventually he breaks the kiss, resting his forehead on yours. "You always know how to make me feel better, kitten," he said as you slide your hands up his front and lace them behind his neck. "What do you say we retreat to my room to continue this encounter?" he leans in to steal one more kiss from you lips before taking you by the hand and pulling you up to his room.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify ·

· likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

[prettymonegasque]

Something about Max screams fucking you raw on the kitchen counter

Max Verstappen x Reader

A/N: I would gladly be Max Emillian Verstappen's little housewife. No questions asked.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, HEAVY BREEDING KINK, Lactation Kink, Housewife Kink, just a lotta kinky shit tbh, Unprotected sex (you're way too fucking young to have kids), Fingering, Oral f! receiving, Implied oral m! receiving

Waffles. That's the only thing on your mind since last night when you and Max watched The Great British Bake Off before bed. You woke up earlier than usual to finally satisfy your craving. You put on some soft jazz and moved around the kitchen in your bra and joggers. You cherised these quiet moments far away from all the noise and the chaos. You were so deep in thought, you didn't hear your husband padding towards you. You heart almost fell out of your chest when a pair of arms wrapped around you.

"Max! You scared me" You gasped as he just nuzzled in your neck. "It's 7am why are you up baby?" His voice was deeper than usual. "I need waffles" You simply shrugged. He hummed and his arms started trailing up until they reached your breasts. You hissed in pain. Max's eyes shot open at the sound of your discomfort. "What's wrong liefje?" "I'm ovulating Max. My breasts are insanely sore." You didn't notice how Max's cock stood up at your words.

You and Max have talked about kids and decided to try after the end of the season. But Max Verstappen was not a very patient man. As you grabbed the waffle maker, Max started nibbling on your neck. Leaving open mouthed kisses and slowly pushing your bra strap away for more access. You didn't take long to figure out what was happening.

In the flash of an eye, you were on the counter as Max got to work removing your joggers. He slowly kissed his way up from your ankles. He chuckled seeing your soaked panties. He slowly pulled it down with his teeth while staring into your eyes. You moaned at the sight. "Fuck baby, all of this for me?" He spoke against your pussy. "Yes Maxie. All for you." You gasped as his tongue got to work. Licking and slurping on every crevice, he knew your his pussy like the back of his hand.

He inserted two fingers, scissoring you and getting you prepared for what was to come. Despite fucking like bunnies everyday, you could never get used to his girth. The second he nudged your clit with his nose, your orgasm washed over you like a torpedo. You barely had a chance to speak before you came all over his face.

"So nice and ready for my cock huh princess?" Max got up from the floor and got rid of his boxers. His cock slapped on his stomach, making you drool selfishly. He held you tight as he slowly entered you. A loud moan tore out of you. After a few small thrust, he looked at you silently asking for permission. You knew this was what you both wanted and nodded.

Every little piece of restraint in him crumbled and an animalistic moan ripped from his throat as he fucked you raw on the kitchen counter. He thrusted into you mercilessly. You body shook at the intensity and your nails were piercing his back drawing blood. "Is this what you wanted schatje? Me fucking a baby into you. Fuck baby you would look pretty with your breast all swollen with my baby's milk and god I can't wait to suck on it." He sucked on your nipples ruthlessly rehearsing for the future. His suckling felt like heaven on your sore breasts.

You cried as he continued thrusting into you. He pulled your nipple with his lips before letting it go. He kissed you with so much love and adoration. "Shit baby. I'm about to cum. Do you want my cum huh baby? Do you? " He taunted you as his thrusts continued wrecking your pussy. "Yes Maxie! Give me your baby. Wanna be a good little housewife for you" You were on the verge of passing out. Your orgasm washed over you twice and your husband barely faltered. He was on a mission and you wanted him to succeed. Max let out a gruttal groan as he came in you. You felt his cum filling you up. You were both a sweaty mess and your foreheads touched. "Are you okay baby?" He cupped your face and placed a chaste kiss. "I'm great" You whispered. He slowly pulled out you and walked over to the bedroom to grab a cloth.

When he came back, he definetely didn't expect to see you fingering yourself pushing his cum further in. He moaned as he got ready for round 2. You knew at that moment you weren't gonna get your waffles for a while. But you got something way better to stuff in your mouth.

[woewriting]

cold coffee

pairing: tara carpenter | fem detective reader warnings: mdni! no major warnings, fluffy and soft moments, implied sex; this take place after scream vi events. word count: 3049 a/n: this one is for you, @wesstars 🫶

masterlist

“Think you can warm me up?”

The low request came almost unnoticed by you, making you take a step back and look carefully at the ball of blankets on the couch.

Hidden there, under a couple layers of cozy blankets, a small Tara appeared with a red nose.

You smiled softly at the adorable view in front of you.

“I can’t, babe, I have some reports to look at, and it’s getting late.”

She pouted, looking at you with doe eyes that never failed, wide, soft with shining little stars dancing in the brown as she looks at you.

“Please? Just until I fall asleep.”

How could you say no to that?

You fold in the same second, forgetting that you have long pile of files to look at, carefully placing your mug filled with hot coffee on the side table, you took off your slippers and slid under the thick fabric, opening your arms towards the younger one.

Like she always does, Tara threw her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head on your shoulder.

“You know…” you started, pulling her closer to you. “You wouldn’t feel cold if you wore more than just underwear and a tank top.”

“I don’t need to wear clothes; I have you to keep me warm,” Tara said back, looking at you with soft, sleepy eyes.

You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand. Leaning forward, you placed a kiss on her forehead, admiring the way the corner of her lips slightly tugged up, eyes closed and tip of nose red, the freckles spread on her face like stars in the dark night; Tara was a work of art.

“I love you so much, did you know that?” You whispered close to her lips.

She wrinkled her nose, “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you saying again, and again…”

Stopping her rambling, you pressed your lips on hers, sighing with such familiar taste of cherry of her lip balm. Tara was all soft, and when she was like this, calm and patient under your touch, it made your heart race.

When you first met her, during a rainy night at the police station, the girl could barely sustain your eyes, always avoiding them and fixating on somewhere or something else, like on her older sister, Sam. She came in because some idiots from a frat house were harassing her and her sister following the events from last year. You didn’t know much about the Carpenter’s sister, it was only your first month as a detective in New York, only heard rumors and whispers about it.

You ignored the others eyes on her, taking off your jacket to cover the small body that was trembling, being closely watched by the older Carpenter. Carefully, you placed the brown leather jacket around her shoulders, taking a couple steps back once you did, giving her a safe space.

Tara went home with your jacket that night, and when she brought it back, leaving it at the front desk, 5 days later, a small note was inside the pocket, written in a delicate handwriting, a small “thank you :)”. You smiled, keeping the note inside and going back to work.

The precinct was a place filled with gossips, theories and lies made up to creep you out. Your colleagues — if you could call them that — weren’t the most delightful people to be around, as most of them were men, you felt misplaced, an outcast, even thought you were on a higher level than them, mere police officers with a giant ego. Respect was a word that, apparently, wasn’t taught to them during life. You could count on your fingers the ones that were truly a nice officer and decent human being.

As the days went by, more talking took over the place, annoying ones that always got your rolling your eyes and ignoring them, the Carpenter sister’s being the subject of it 90% of the time, it’s like the big apple only had two young girls living in it and they were the reason to all the chaos that perpetuate in New York.

One day, late at night, you were finishing some reports to call it a day when a familiar voice caught your attention, the short blonde hair and leather jacket automatically bringing a smile on your face. You closed your computer and stood up, grabbing the brown leather jacket from the chair’s back and tossed over your shoulder.

“You’re too loud, did you know that, agent Reed?”

The woman turned around the same second your known perfume filled the room, a big smile tugging on her lips. She waited for you to get closer, annoyingly punching your arm as a form to say ‘hi’. Standing in front of her, the younger Carpenter was awkwardly looking at you, curiosity in her eyes as she watched you and your old friend interact.

You didn’t notice, but Tara was carefully watching you, the way your eyes light up whenever Kirby said something that happened while you were away from each other, crazy stories like the one where she almost got killed, again, a couple months ago. Funny ones, like when a common friend of yours got scared during a mission and yelled like a little girl because of a cat hidden inside a locker, causing you to throw your head back as you deliciously laughed. She smiled too, tilting her head to admire the way your nose scrunched or how your lips moved when you talked, or how your browns furred when Reed told what happened last year during Halloween, only then your eyes met Tara’s for more than a few seconds, a pinkish color painting her cheeks.

You didn’t know much about it, choosing to ignore the comments as you never knew what was a fact or what was a lie purposefully made up to destroy the sister’s images. All you were aware off, was that the masked killer that terrorized your colleague, and friend’s, life years ago in Woodsborro came back and worked at the precinct.

Kirby wasn’t the type of person that spoke about her fears and the horrors that haunted her over the years, all you knew was what she chose to share and the reason to why she decided to become a detective. You didn’t push her to talk, patiently waited for her to open up to you by choice because she trusted you. It took a long time for the moment to come, but one day, the alcohol in her made her talk and boy… she really had a lot to share, and it was very graphic — you swore you could feel the knife twisting inside you.

And now, with your eyes connected to Tara’s, a girl that seemed so sweet and kind, had gone through the same traumatic event as Reed did and, knowing her the way you did, you could only image the scars that hung onto the young Carpenter’s body and soul. You smiled at her, reaching your hand to hers.

“It’s nice seeing you again, miss Carpenter.”

Her hand was soft, warm and delicate against yours.

“You too, detective.” She smiled, hand still on yours. “I didn’t know you and Kirby knew each other.”

“Well, when I joined the force,” you started, forcing yourself to break the contact. “Reed was the first one to reach out to me and invite me for some beer after out shift.”

“She’s a very quiet girl, but it’s a great listener.” Kirby said with her costumery side smiled. “If you ever need someone to talk to, Tara, she’s the one you can go to.”

You looked at Kirby with pursed lips, head tilting in a silent ‘what the fuck are you doing?’

Tara let out a small laugh, “It’s good to know that, Kirby. If you trust her, then I do too.”

“Well, I don’t believe in that,” you said, licking your lips as you gave your attention to the girl. “I rather earn your trust than Kirby just giving it away. Trust is a very precious and intimate thing, Tara, you should only trust someone you know.”

“In that case, we should get to know each other better.” She smiled. “Don’t you think, detective?”

“I think that’s a great idea, miss Carpenter.”

That night was the first time you went out with Tara; Kirby tagged along in the first two hours but went home after a few rounds of beer, the alcohol getting to her way easier than you remembered. Helping her into the cab, you made sure to share her live location with you before sending her home, an old habit you had acquired after the truth about her life in Woodsboro.  

“You know…” Tara started, her index finger messily playing with the sweaty, half empty, beer glass in front of her. “It’s sweet what you did there.”

“What do you mean?”

You have always been strong when it came to alcohol, maybe it was due to your position as a detective or you had a really good regenerating immune system — even a common cold couldn’t get to you.

Tara, apparently, wasn’t like you. She was leaning against the table, playing with the glass cup like a little kid that was sleepy but refused to close her eyes and drift away in slumber. You carefully watched her, afraid that she would eventually fall off the chair.

“The location, I saw you sending her live location to your number.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer. “It’s nothing, really. I just want to make sure she gets home safe.”

“Still,” her hand reached yours on the table, thumb softly brushing your skin. “it’s sweet. You’re sweet.”

“And you’re drunk.” You laughed awkwardly, finishing your beer in one long sip, still allowing her to touch you. “Come on, let’s get you on a cab.”

Her hand grabbed yours when you threatened to stand up, ready to pay the bill. “No, please. I want to get to know you better.”

“We can do that some other time, miss Carpenter.”

“Promise?”

You didn’t like promises, it carried an obligation that you didn’t like, but you just couldn’t get yourself to say no when her big, sparkling eyes stared at your soul.

You sighed with a small smile, “I promise.”

When you were paying the bill, Tara was standing close to you, holding onto your arm as if you were going to run away from her. It was cute, you had to admit as you looked at her while the cashier waited for your card to approve the payment, the different height between you two very noticeable when her head barely reached the top of your shoulder.

Before you could put her inside the cab with her apartment address on it, you made sure to save her phone number and share her location with you, just like you did with Reed over the years.

“Text me when you get home?” Tara asked through the open window when you closed the door for her.

“I will.” You smiled, turning to the old driver. “Take her home safely, please?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You stood there for a few seconds, watching as the yellow car drove away, Tara’s happy face outside the window waving at you. You waved back, heart warm at how adorable she was.

When you got home that night, you weren’t exhausted even after the busy day and all the beer you had, you felt alive and giddy as you texted the newly-added number, telling her you were safe and sound at the comfort of your home. The reply came in the same second, telling you that she was in bed already with a kiss blowing emoji next to it.

Now, a year after that first night out with Tara, you had the young girl sleeping safely in your arms, the morning sun breaking the thick, rainy clouds and invading the apartment, waking you up. Tara was hidden in the hollow of your neck, her calm and heavy breathing tickling your skin, still sleeping soundly.

You looked around the scene, still half asleep. Your coffee mug, now cold, still on the side table. The birds were chirping for the first time in a while since the winter arrived in New York. Some blankets had fallen to the floor, leaving only one covering your bodies. It was true, Tara only needed you to keep her warm.

Feeling your eyes on her, she stirs in her sleep and you’re fast to tighten your arms around her, but after all the incidents that happened around her in the past years, she was a light sleeper.

“You’re suffocating me.” She giggles, hand resting on your neck.

“I should suffocate you after you made me skip work last night.”

“Did I? I don’t remember putting a gun to your head and making you cuddle me.”

Your eyes widened, pulling back just enough to find hers.

“You did worse! You looked at me with Bambi eyes and you know I cannot say no to that.”

She laughs, “You’re very weak for a detective.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored the fake teasing, caressing the scar on the right side of her belly.

“I’m only weak when it comes to you. You’re my only weakness, Tara.”

Her expressions softened, eyes analyzing your face. She knew you weren’t lying, just like she knew you would do anything to protect her, other than the four core, you were the only one that took her walls down.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to use this against you so I can have you all to myself.”

“You’ll always have me all to yourself.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “but sometimes work steals you from me.”

You smile, “I have to keep my girlfriend safe, don’t I?”

“I guess you do, but today,” the tip of her fingers slid under the collar of your sweater, noticing the lack of bra; she wet her lips. “I have you all to myself, and I am not letting you go.”

“I certainly don’t want you to.”

Tugging you by the collar, she climbed on top of you, the blanket falling to the floor with the sudden motion.

For the first time you could fully see her as she sat on your hip; black panties and an equally black tank top, slightly wrapped around her thin waist, the tip of her scar visible, messy hair cascading down her shoulders.

Biting your lower lip as your eyes followed her curves, hands on her thigh following to her hip, then her waist in a strong squeeze. When she leaned down, lips oh so close to yours, you jumped when a low clearing of the throat coming from the kitchen filled the room; your instinct quick to pull a blanket from the floor to cover Tara’s body and pull her against you.

Standing in the corner of the brick wall, Sam was avoiding looking in your direction until her sister was fully covered, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Please, tell me you two weren’t going to have sex on my couch, again.”

Tara hid a laugh against your neck, unlike you — who felt heat rising from your toes all the way up to your face, cheeks burning with Sam’s disgusted look. This wasn’t the first time the older Carpenter walked on the two of you, but it was funny that this happened twice on the same week, at least this time you both were fully covered…

You opened your mouth in an attempt to say something, an apology, or maybe try to convince her that this was not what was happening at all, but all that came out was a struggled sound that caused Tara to laugh muffled against you.

Sam took a deep breath, reaching out for her keys that were settled next to your mug. She adjusted the black beanie as she walked to the door, unlocking the 4 sets of locks and turning to you with a tired expression, “If you two are still on my couch when I come back, we’re gonna have a whole different conversation. Got it?”

You nodded fast.

“Good.”

And left.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding when you heard the jingling of keys on the other side of the door and distant steps going down the stairs.

Removing the blanket from her head, Tara looked at the closed door before staring at you, a loud and delicious laugh breaking the almost palpable tension that was left in the room.

“How can you laugh like this when your sister walked on us like this, again?” You were in disbelief, heart beating in your throat.

“If you could see your face, you’d laugh too,” she whipped the corner of her eyes, pressing a fast kiss on your lips. “I might be your only weakness, but Sam is your only fear.”

You huffed, agreeing with your girlfriend.

“I’ve seen what she’s capable of, I am not risking having my hands cut off, I’d miss them a lot!”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” she leaned in, hands on the side of your head, a hard grip on the cushions you laid your head on. Tara brushed her lips on yours, a fainted smell of cherries filling your lungs. "I would miss them too... more than you could ever imagine.”

Before you could close the small gap between your lips, the jingling of keys got you sitting up, arms firmly wrapped around the youngest waist, walking to bedroom at the end of the hallway, a giggly Tara clinging to your body for her dear life; you kicked the door close and leaned against it, breath caught up to your throat as you faced Tara with pursed lips.

Sam had her eyes closed when the door swung open, one hand on the door knob and the other covering her face. She had forgotten her cellphone. When she was met with silence, her index finger moved up a little, enough for her to peek at the scene.

The living room was a mess, blankets all over the floor, your slippers and Tara’s lost in between, a couple cushions in the middle as well, but what made her take a deep breath to keep from freaking out was the overturned mug on the side table, cold coffee dripping on the wooden floor.

[slvttyplum]

𐙚⋆.˚ distraction| choso kamo

synopsis: you’re not being so good but choso still gives you what you’re craving.

contents: bimbo!reader, nerd!choso, smut.

choso adjusted himself in his chair, looking at the bright computer screen, numbers shinning off the glass, and squinting at the bright words and numbers.

his hand sliding over to his mouse, the arrow nowhere to be found. he shakes the mouse a couple of times, then lifts it up, turning it around.

the red light not there, looking over at you on his bed with your legs thrown behind you, kicking your feet.

then looking down at the outlet beside the desk and seeing a phone cord snaking to his bed and the mouse cord on the floor.

shaking his head, he lets out an aggravated sigh before getting up, unplugging the lamp cord, and plugging up his mouse.

“heyyy! i needed that.” you whine out, turning around on the bed quickly, looking at him. he looks at you, then back at the computer, shaking the mouse.

“you can’t get both things; it’s either the lamp or the charger.” he mutters out, not wanting to even converse at the moment.

you begged and begged and begged to come over, and he finally lets it happen because... it’s you, but all you do is create chaos and whine.

yeah you were cute, but what else? what the hell was he thinking? you’re his girlfriend of 3 years, for fuck sake; get it together, choso.

you jump out of bed, tossing your phone on the mattress, and walk behind choso, leaning over his shoulder and squinting at the screen.

his hands are working on the keyboard and mouse so fast, which is impressive. your mouth in the shape of an “o” holding your arm out and tapping the screen.

“what does that mean?” you coo still squinting; squinting doesn’t automatically make things make sense.

choso sighs, grabbing your wrist and rolling his chair out, pulling you towards him. his legs spread out.

grabbing your hips and placing you into his lap roughly, a headache entering his head. you were distracting.

“why can’t you just be a good girl and stay out of the way?" his voice was deep but soft, and his dark eyes looked directly into your big ones.

a pout on your mouth when he says those words, what? you were just asking a question: what had him so tight today?

“i am; telling me to stay out of the way isn’t nice.” his eyes sliding off of yours and turning the chair back to the computer screen, sliding into the desk.

“what way do you want me to put it?” his voice low, removing his hands from your hips and putting them back on the keyboard, clicking away.

as he clicks away, your eyes scan the side of his face, and you move back and forth on his lap. so pretty, you thought to yourself.

he washed his hair a couple of hours ago, so his dark locks were a little frizzy, the glow from the computer illuminating his glasses.

a smile appearing on your face as you reach your hand out, cupping his jaw and rubbing his cheek with your thumb.

“my pretty boy.” you whisper, still lightly moving on his leg, a little more intensely now.

choso’s eyes are still fixed on the computer screen, but he can feel you moving, your core digging into his thigh, and his typing getting slower.

little affirmative whispers slipping out of your mouth as you’re dazed out, fixed on the beauty in front.

you’re so into your own thoughts, not noticing the pool of arousal set beneath your panties, choso could feel it all, though.

the little heartbeat your pussy has pulsing on him, and you practically shaking and dazing out, making him hard.

your hand mindlessly traveling to the middle of the thighs, rubbing your aching core, his beauty unmatched.

“baby.” choso whispers out, not sure what to do. on one hand, he wanted to bend you over the desk and fuck you, but on the other, he didn’t want to bother you.

a tiny lump sliding up your throat and coming out a moan, your eyes watering from you not blinking, pleasure building up between your legs.

you didn’t reply, just small whispers to yourself about how good he looked, a little drool peeking out the side of your mouth.

your fingers digging into your clothed pussy, as your eyes go in and out trying to make out his face.

the grip on his jaw loosens as the pleasure between your thighs gets more and more achy.

“do you need help?" choso says, his voice dropping to a whisper as he begins to shake his leg, the vibration and bounce sending you to mars.

your knees hitting together as you get overwhelmed with pleasure, his eyes darting to you and the screen in front of him.

pathetic, on his thigh, whimpering and moaning like a puppy. he couldn’t just let you continue like that.

his hands sliding off the keyboard and onto your hips, one of his hands sliding down to your leg, bringing it to the other side of him.

now you’re on his lap, face him, his bulge pushing into your aching heat, the pulsing only getting faster.

“i’m at your service... use me.” he couldn’t even get the last words out before you fumbled over his sweatpant strings and pulled them down, popping out his length.

pre-cum sliding down his shaft as you prop yourself up, lining up with him as you bring your shorts and panties to the side.

not wasting any precious seconds to slip them off.

his tip grazing your pussy.

choso’s hands are firm on your hips as you wobble, trying to line yourself up, and his eyes are directly on yours.

finally lined up correctly, you waste no time pushing down all the way onto his cock; your slick wall’s instantly clamping onto him.

a sharp moan sliding out past choso’s lip, his eyes squinting rather than opening, your arms wrapping around his neck, and your face in the crook of his neck.

“so… mm good.” you moan out into his neck, choso looking behind you and sliding into his desk more, removing his hands from your hips and putting them on his keyboard.

“yeah? tell me how good you feel.” he grunts out, typing on his keyboard, your body going up and down from his peripheral, trying to focus on the screen.

the keys bouncing up and down with the rhythm you were going, his mind losing thought but trying to concentrate.

he couldn’t win for losing; even when you were in his lap, you needed more and were never satisfied with what he gave you.

the pleasure erupting inside you was too much, yet you needed more. his fingers were still bouncing on the keys like you were bouncing on his dick.

“i feel so good... mm, just deep.” you say, not being able to make out any more words at the moment.

his glasses moving as your body is pushing up against him, the grip around his neck getting tighter, but he’s not budging.

tiny moans releasing out past your lips one after another, the intense pleasure choso was filling was so much he needed to focus.

give you what you wanted and get his work done.

his fingers jolting every time he presses the key, his body getting hotter and his head getting fuzzy, your whimpers sliding through his ears.

“can you be a good girl and quiet down for me? hm?” his words are coming out softer than before, and your ass is coming down on his lap harder.

his dick curving hitting your weak spot, your body clenching up, your walls firm around his cock.

your hand covering up your mouth, trying to quiet down, slowly lowering your hand, and pushing your body down again.

“yes… mm, sorry... feels so good.” you whine out, the pleasure getting so intense you’re sure to explode.

“don’t be sorry, baby; this is all you know.” he mutters the last part, knowing you would get upset; he didn’t mean it in a malicious way.

lump after lump getting caught in your throat the more you try to hold down your moans, your eyes watery from how hard you were covering your mouth.

your pussyclenching into his dick, squeezing his tip so hard, he found himself mindlessly moaning and getting blurry eyes trying to focus.

the more you clamp down on him, the closer you get to a knot with a thousand butterflies swarming around your stomach.

your body was moving on its own; you were only receiving the pleasure from his big dick carving into you.

leaving his shape, imprint, and cum behind inside you, just as you liked it. being used by him and him only.

he “mm m cum.” you whine out, trying to let out the words you were going to cum, but the little words you knew got shadowed out by the pleasure.

his dick twitching and pulsing inside of you, the waves of pleasure flowing through both of your heated bodies.

a quiet, muffled moan sliding past your lips as you thrust down one final time, clamping around his dick.

choso’s eyes squinted shut as his fingers hestitated going to the next key, his dick pulsing and pumping cum into you.

“i want your cum.” you whine out, your head snuggling into his neck with comfort as you feel his seed slowly trickle out of you.

“i know you do pretty girl... i know.”

[luveline]

Oh oh oh Hotch walking in on a sweet little moment between Jack and reader and he just MELTS when he realises how much he loves them both??💗💗 (pls, only if it inspires you lovely!!)

ty for your request! fem, 1k

“Well, I liked it. I thought it was cool.” 

Hotch puts his keys in the bowl. “It is cool,” Jack says. It's good to hear his voice after so long away. Jack's not often talkative. “It is.” 

“Thank you, Jack.” There's a gap where Hotch can't see anything, peering around the door to the kitchen. He's too far away. “You're such a nice boy. You know that?” you ask. 

You and Jack are talking in the unhurried tones of people close to one another. Hotch has to strain to hear it clearly. “You think so?” 

“I do. You're really, always nice to me. You're brave and smart, Jack, but what I love about you the most is how nice you are. How kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You're welcome.” Hotch can see the look on your face in his mind, the softening of your eyes and the small smile. “Do you think you're nice?” 

“Yes!” A small giggle echoes off of the kitchen tiles. “I'm nice. But I want to be brave more.” 

“Yeah? It's a really great thing to be so nice. To be patient with people, and to be forgiving, that's its own kind of bravery, because it can be hard.” 

“It's easy.” 

“I'm glad you think so.” Hotch walks further down the hall and finally spots you. You're sitting on the kitchen floor together with one of Jack's long paper rolls spooled from the door to the cabinets. Jack lays on his stomach with a red marker in his hand, staring at you with wide eyes as you draw. Hotch can't see your face, but he hears your smile. “I love you, Jack.” 

“I love you too… thanks for drawing with me.” 

“I love drawing with you. Maybe I should say thanks to you for doing all the best ones.” 

Jack laughs with the shaken-soda quality only little kids can reach. It immediately gets you laughing, and that combined makes Hotch chuckle. Your heads turn together quickly, Jack's with excitement and yours surprise. “Hi, daddy!” 

“Hi, buddy.”

“You're home early?” Jack asks. 

Hotch steps carefully over the mess of pending and paper, sitting cross-legged at Jack's side. Jack smiles and tips into Hotch's lap without getting up, a flop of limbs into starched pants. Hotch hugs him in similar limbless fashion. 

“Home for two days, at least.” He presses his lips to Jack's ear, speaking softly. “So I hope you saved some room for me on that paper.” 

“I did! Do you want your pyjamas? We've been wearing our pyjamas all day. We had pizza for breakfast.” 

“Jack!” You cover your face. “Jack, that was our secret, oh,” —you part your fingers— “Aaron, I'm sorry, I know he shouldn't lie to you, and I know I shouldn't give him junk but he was asking so nicely and I really didn't wanna make oatmeal.” 

Jack runs away with another bout of giggles, knowing he's entrapped you. 

“You know I don't care,” Hotch says, giving you an easy smile. 

“Yeah, but… I'm supposed to be a good role model,” you say, offering a small smile in return. It half knocks the air from his lungs. 

He reaches across the drawing chaos to touch your face with his thumb. Your cheek is soft. The little wrinkle by your mouth deepens with your smiling, and the incremental weight of your head tilting into his hand is a feeling he can't get enough of. 

“I heard you talking,” he says. 

“What were we saying?” 

“About how he's kind.” He cups your cheek. “I missed you both so much. It's… amazing to be home.”

He knows you like this more than kissing, sometimes. It isn't hard to hold you like you mean everything to him, to caress your skin with a gentle fingertip, drawing a line along the curve of your neck. Your pupils grow to black dimes, and your breathing slows. 

“I missed you too, Agent. We missed you, we've been trying to think of new games to keep busy. See, we're drawing us in different jobs.” 

He's going to look just as soon as he gets enough of you, his thumb pressing circles into your skin.

“Did you frown a lot while you were away?” you ask in a whisper. 

“Can you tell?” 

“A little bit,” you say, still whispering as you lift your hand. You rub the line between his brows. “Should I kiss it away?” 

Jack runs back in with Hotch's pyjamas in his arms, a grey shirt and dark blue pants. “Kiss what?” 

“My wrinkles,” Hotch says. 

“His frowny face.” 

Jack wraps his arms over Hotch's shoulders, almost choking him with the pyjamas. “I'll do it! I will.” 

“Alright, buddy. Fix me up, okay? I can only smile for the next couple of days.” 

Hotch gets a face full of kisses and a great long hug to round it out, Jack in his lap. You're sketching something as they hug but he can't see what until Jack settles, and when he does, he laughs so hard he almost knocks Jack back out of his lap. 

Jack Hotchner, professional frown remover, you've captioned. Jack stands tall and smiling with a love heart on his shirt, his felt marker outlines sewn with care. Aaron Hotchner stands next to him, professional frowner. 

Hotch immediately pesters Jack into giving him the right pens for his own turn. He doesn't caption it, unsure what job he'd label either of you with, but it's clear what he's getting at with speech bubbles full of smiley faces. 

He thinks he might remember your conversation forever without it, but the drawing serves as a nice memento. He only wishes he were a better artist. 

[malarign]

make up

(how your arguments and making up after them would look like)

contains: bf!hyungline x fem!reader | genre: angst with comfort | tw! arguing (obv) | wc: 1,1k

reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i think i’m back (this time for real though…)

Lee Heeseung | 이희승

arguments with heeseung are not very often

he prefers solving problems instead of accusing each other

overall just communicates very well

but sometimes he just breaks because of stress

or emotions he doesn’t talk about often

After a few minutes of talking in slightly raised voices, Heeseung stopped himself before saying things he would regret. Instead, he closed his eyes and massaged his temples. You stared at him in silence, waiting for his response. This whole situation could have been avoided if only he allowed you to help him relax and didn’t lace his stress on you. But that’s not what happened when you suggested his well-deserved rest.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, eyes glued to his shoes. His voice cracked a little along the way he spoke quietly. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you like that.”

He looked up at you. His eyes were tired and face was completely drained from any energy.

You smiled reassuringly at him and opened your arms invitingly. He gladly waddled towards you and melted in your touch, that he needed this whole week. He hid his face in the crook of your neck and inhaled your perfume.

“I know you didn’t, my love.” Your voice came out muffled by his hoodie. “Wish you would let me take care of you more, though,” you said, pulling away from his arms.

Heeseung smiled sheepishly and nodded. He placed a soft peck on your forehead, knowing how much you loved it. And he wasn’t wrong.

Park Jongseong | 박종성

okay,, arguments with jay always end up with cuddles and delicious food

but before you get to the nice part 💀💀

there’s a pretty heated argument happening right there

both of you are shouting trying to be heard

but neither of you can do so in this chaos

In the corner of your eye, you noticed how Jay rolled his eyes at your words. That small gesture added fuel to the raging fire that erupted in your kitchen.

“What’s your problem, Jay? Why can’t you just put yourself in my shoes?” You looked at him with your arms crossed.

“The thing is I used to be in your situation! And I don’t want you to make the same mistakes as I did.” He tried his best to hold the reins of his emotions as much as he could, though your defensive (and offensive) attitude made it pretty difficult. He looked at you helplessly as you stood your ground. He let out a final sigh. “Hope you’ll realize that I’m only trying to help you. I’m not your opponent.”

He slowly left you in the kitchen and you watched how he disappeared behind the door. You took a few deep breaths to calm down, surrounded by the heavy air of your argument. Thinking about it, you had come to the realization that all he wanted was to help you, while you made a whole fuss about him being simply right. With a heavy heart, I carefully opened the door to your bedroom and peeked inside. He stood in front of his desk silently, organizing some papers.

“I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence.

Jay turned around and put on a comforting smile. With opened arms for a hug, he said: “It’s okay. Come here.”

Sim Jaeyun | 심재윤

this man right there is not physically able to be angry with you

let alone raise his voice at you (yk that one iland ep… 😔)

he just agrees to everything you say

hates seeing you upset so avoids quarrels as much as he can

Jake knew your weekly movie marathon had to wait a bit longer the moment you opened the front door of your shared apartment with fury. From bursting flames in your eyes he could see something happened. Furthermore, something that made you lose your cool.

“Hi baby, can I help you somehow?” he asked calmly, continuing to prepare your favorite snacks.

You glanced at him angrily and let out a scoff. “You would know if only you picked up the phone.”

Jake bit his lower lip at your words, realizing he might have not charged his phone after coming home.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to charge it,” he explained honestly.

“Why do you need it if you’re not gonna use it?” You threw your arms in the air and continued to pace around the living room trying to find something.

“Baby,” Jake called, coming closer to you. “I’m sorry, but you know, it doesn’t happen often. I just wanted to prepare stuff for tonight,” he reasoned and hugged you from behind.

feeling how your tensed body relaxed in his arms, Jake made you face him, now looking at your pout.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, realizing your mistake.

Not wanting to continue that unreasonable argument, he simply asked: “How can I help you?”

Park Sunghoon | 박성훈

arguments with sunghoon are nearly impossible

just when he senses that some quarrel is coming he becomes very quiet

he waits for you to calm down before proceeding with solutions to your problems

the last thing he wants is to upset you

that’s why he prefers peaceful discourse

The atmosphere in your apartment has been pretty heavy today. Your constant loud sighing, rapid movements, and eye rolls told Sunghoon everything: “I feel like breaking something right now”, “Why is everything so irritating today?” and “I’m so pissed right now”. He silently watched as you paced between the kitchen and your bedroom to find something to do. To find something to take your anger out on. After dating quite a long time with you he knew your temperament, especially when it came to your frustrated state. Instead of potentially setting you on fire unintentionally he decided to wait for you to do something. And you certainly did.

“Are you just going to stare at me or maybe ask what’s wrong?” you snapped after noticing him peacefully enjoying his afternoon tea and book.

He calmly placed both on the table and smiled slightly. “I didn’t want to pressure you to…”

“So you preferred to stay silent and enjoy the show of me being stressed?” You didn’t let him finish. His face made you want to bite your tongue yet it was too late. You already lashed out at him. Your expression dropped just like your heart. “I’m sorry,” you whispered with a lowered head.

After noticing how he stood up, you soon felt how he pulled you in a hug and swayed your body. Despite your terrible attitude, he placed a few kisses on your head and cheek.

“It’s okay.” His voice came out muffled by your hair. “Do you want to rant now?”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @yenqa, @heesitation, @edensgardenn

[ellecdc]

love, you HAVE to continue the moonwater x pregnant reader who are announcing the pregnancy with a very dramatic barty and over enthusiastic sirius

say less (this was supposed to be a short little blurb, how'd it end up being so long? [it's cuz they're dramatic])

poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader who tell their friends // 2nd trimester

The first sound you heard when you, Remus, and Regulus stepped through the floo at Potter manor was the sound of Harry squealing in delight.

“Again, Pa’foo! Again!” The toddler cheered as Sirius, who was laying on the floor on his back, took Harry’s hands in his and lifted his godson up into the air by his feet.

“Quick, Red! What are those muggle flying thingies called again!?” Sirius shouted through the apartment. 

You chuckled at the sight as Regulus tried passing you a sweater on account of “the many drafts in Potter manor” which you quickly refused. “I think you’re looking for aeroplane, Sirius.” 

Sirius leaned his head back further so he was looking at you upside down and offered you a flirty grin.

Before he was able to say anything too salacious, Harry squealed and launched himself at you.

“Auntie!”

“Hi Haz!” You cheered back, bending down to hold the child to your chest. “Having fun?”

Harry confirmed that he was as he moved to hug Remus and Regulus before tearing off to tell his parents that everyone was here.

Sirius accepted Remus’ hand up and they clapped each other on the back in what Regulus has dubbed a “bro hug” that he was “zero percent interested in ever receiving, thank you”.

“Nice of you all to finally show up. V’been here for hours already.” Sirius taunted.

“He’s a sodding liar.” You heard Lily say as the four of you made your way to the dining room where Harry was already sitting in his booster seat and shoving food into his mouth by means of one baby fork and one pudgy hand. “He’s been here for five minutes maybe.”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re no fun, Red. I didn’t even get to see the little twitch in Reggie’s jaw at the thought of having held everyone up.”

“Sod off.” Regulus hissed as he smacked his brother upside the head.

“Lily! Regulus just hit me!” He cried, rubbing the back of his head.

“Squealer.” Regulus muttered darkly and took a seat as Remus pulled out a chair for you in the place beside him.

You didn’t realise how quiet the room had gotten until after Remus had pushed your chair back in underneath you and took a seat to your opposite side. You looked up to notice all eyes were on you.

“What the hell is going on?” Lily asked bluntly.

“What do you mean?” You asked, though your voice sounded relatively high.

Sirius let out a disbelieving laugh. “That one?” He said as he pointed an accusatory finger towards his brother. “That one had etiquette lessons drilled into him from the moment he could walk. This one?” He continued, moving his finger to Remus. “Is the least gentlemanly man I’ve ever met.”

Remus let out a simultaneously hysterical and offended laugh as he looked cautiously towards you and Regulus. “I am too a gentleman!”

“You’ve never once pulled out my chair, Moony.” James accused with narrowed eyes.

“And why in the hells would he pull out your chair, Potter?” Regulus sneered.

“A gentleman would.” Lily argued.

“He would not!” Remus countered.

“Only an un-gentleman would say such a thing, Moons.”

“You’ve lost the plot, Sirius.”

“Are you pregnant?” Lily whispered, causing the table to fall silent again as everyone returned their attention to you.

You looked awkwardly between Remus and Regulus again; this isn’t exactly how you’d planned to tell them. You were hoping to have at least made it through your meal before you opened up the discussion, knowing there would be plenty of questions. 

You don’t know why you even bothered to make plans with this lot; getting just about anything done was guaranteed to be nothing short of chaos. 

“Oh, my gods. You are.” She breathed out in disbelief, a grin spreading across her face.

“Shut up.” James said as he slammed his hands down on the table, looking between you, Regulus, and Remus imploringly. “Shut up; no you’re not. Are you? Are you really?”

You let out an emotional laugh and nodded, looking down to your lap where you were nervously wringing your hands before one of Remus’ joined the mix.

“Oh my gods!” James shrilled as Lily let out an excited squeal.

“How far along are you? What are your cravings? Have you had terrible morning sickness? How far along are you?” Lily asked in rapidfire.

“Okay, okay. Salazar, take it easy.” Regulus admonished placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’re almost fourteen weeks now. The cravings change almost every week, but this week it’s been spicy foods.”

This earned you all an indignant scoff from James at having spicy cravings and not going to him for recipes.

“Which has been awful for the heart burn.” Remus noted lovingly causing you to flush impossibly further. 

“Morning sickness has been a bit of an issue.” Regulus continued.

“And is usually an issue well throughout the rest of the day and evening as well.” Remus added. 

“Fourteen weeks!?” Sirius finally screeched, looking at the three of you in faux admonishment. “You’ve known for fourteen weeks that I was going to be an uncle-”

“Again.” James corrected quietly.

“Again.” Sirius agreed without breaking his stare with his brother. “...that I was going to be an uncle again for fourteen weeks, and you didn’t bother to tell me!?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sirius.” Regulus scoffed dismissively. “We’ve only known for almost eight weeks.”

“Eight weeks!?” James and Sirius chorused.

“I needed to be shopping seven weeks ago.” Sirius squawked.

Remus titled his head at his friend. “Why only seven weeks?”

“I’d need at least a week recovering from the fact that you’ve defiled my brother.”

You and Remus scoffed at that. 

“Defiled him?” You begged incredulously at the same time as Remus muttered “I wouldn’t be surprised if this was his doing.”

James gasped dramatically at that. “Do you know who the other parent is?”

“James!” Lily and Remus chided at the same time.

“Now, Potter. Generally, when three people love each other very much, and they bring a child into the world, they’d all be parents.” Remus explained as if it had been Harry who asked the question.

“Sod off, that’s not what I meant. Is it going to be a Black? A little cub?” He carried on, sucking the air out of the room.

James always meant to say the nicest things, they just never came out quite right; and this time, he’d struck a bit of a nerve.

Fortunately, Sirius never allowed moments to stay awkward for long.

He groaned in disgust. “Never mind that; the child is damned either way. Do you know if it’s going to be a girl or a boy?”

You snorted at that as both Remus and Regulus harrumphed quietly and sat back in their chairs. 

“It’s a little early for that, Pads.” Lily explained.

“The boys are divided on what the sex of the baby is going to be so they’re not going to find out until the baby is born.” You explained, causing Sirius to grin mischievously. 

“They’re not going to find out, you say?”

“But you are?” James asked excitedly.

“Yeah, I’ll find out at the 16 week checkup.” 

“Don’t even think about it.” Remus warned Sirius and James who both squawked in protest.

“Absolutely not; if Remus and I aren’t finding out, neither are you two.” Regulus proclaimed. 

“Fine, but I want in on the bets; who’s betting on which sex?” James asked as he leaned his elbows onto the table - nearly right into his mashed potatoes.

“The sex of my baby is not a bet!” Regulus protested as Remus said “I think it’s a girl.”

Both Sirius and James hummed as they leaned back in their chairs and Lily scrutinised you. 

“I think it’s a girl, too.” She claimed.

“Yeah I’m with Moony.” Sirius said as he brought his glass of wine to his mouth.

“Moony!?” James hollered. “After it took us 700 years to convince him we’d be fine on full moons and we’d been right and he’d been wrong? Nope.” He said with a pop of the p. “I’m putting my money with Baby Black.”

“Never call me that again, Potter.” Regulus muttered.

“Who all knows?” Lily asked as the conversation relaxed and you all began eating.

“No one.” You admitted. “You guys were the first people we’ve told.”

Lily made a sweet cooing sound as James and Sirius (and then Harry) cheered.

“Wait wait wait!” Sirius interrupted. “Does Junior not know!?”

You and Regulus grimaced as Remus barked a laugh.

“That’s next on her list.” Regulus answered, evading any responsibility of his oldest friend onto you.

“My list?!”

“He’s your friend.” He argued.

“He was your friend, first.”

“Yeah but he’d literally push me in front of a stampede of Hippogriffs for you.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Regulus; he’d push anyone in front of a stampede of Hippogriffs for fun.” You countered darkly, picking up the glass of wine that had been sitting in front of you before you realised what you were doing and Remus quickly plucked it from your hands and replaced it with a glass of water.

“Perhaps, but he wouldn’t push you in front of a stampede of hippogriffs, would he?” Regulus challenged, raising a perfectly arched black eyebrow at you.

He was so handsome it pissed you right off.

“You’re actually going to leave your pregnant girlfriend to the hyenas?” 

“I’m not leaving my girlfriend to the hyenas.” Regulus scoffed and turned back to his plate. “I’m only leaving her to one.”

Like the absolute sodding bastard that Regulus was, he really did leave you alone to the hyena. He claimed he had a meeting with the Wizengamot he couldn’t miss, but you claimed bullshit.

And the longer you and Barty travelled between the shops on Oxford street, the more you were beginning to lose your nerve.

He was your best friend; why were you afraid of him?

“The fuck are you looking at you stupid fucking tosser? I’ll rearrange your organs; keep walking!” He spat at someone he decided looked at the pair of you either too strangely or for too long, you’d never know.

Right….that was why.

Suddenly, Barty gasped dramatically and grabbed your arm rather roughly. “You know what we should do?”

“What?”

“We should get matching tattoos!” He said with a beaming smile. 

You patted his cheek in a way that if even his own boyfriend had tried it, he’d have been bitten, but you were just rewarded with him leaning into it. “Barty, how many matching tattoos do we have?”

“Thirteen. Why?” He answered readily. 

You laughed again, and took both of his hands in yours. “Actually, Barty. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“I knew it.”

“What?”

“You’re sick and tired of Reg and Lupin and you’re ready to run away with me. I’ve got passports and bags packed at the ready; we’ll start a new life in New Zealand.” He explained nearly all in the same breath.

“No! What? No, Barty I-”

“Oh my gods, you killed one of them, didn’t you? It was an accident; no, they deserved it, I’m certain of it. You need help hiding the body?”

“Barty!”

“Both of them, Treasure? That’s okay, I think there’s enough room in the Crouch family plot to hide them.”

“Barty! I’m pregnant.” You finally admitted, watching as Barty cut himself off mid sentence to stare at you blankly. 

You were sure it was about 26 seconds of Barty staring intensely into your eyes with his hands gripped tightly in yours before those eyes flit down to your stomach.

It was another approximately 34 seconds where his eyes flit between both of yours and your stomach before he had his arms around your waist and was carrying you off to gods knows where.

“Barty Crouch Junior! You put me down right now!” You demanded.

He pfft’d at you and hiked you up further under his arm. “Fat chance; last time I left you alone for any amount of time, you got yourself knocked up.”

“Bartemus!”

With an overly dramatic sigh, Barty placed you down onto a bench on the street and crouched down in front of you.

“You’ve been pregnant all day and you let me drag you all around kingdom come?” He implored, shaking your shoulders gently. “You have two men at home; do they know you are out on your feet like this?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Give me your cellular device.” He demanded, holding his hand out expectantly.

“Barty, seriously I-”

“The cellular device, witch!” He squawked with an impatient snap of his fingers.

You knew better at this point in your friendship than to argue with Barty when he got like this, and handed him your phone.

He looked at it for a few moments before hastily handing it back to you. “Make it ring Lupin, and Regulus too. I know you two convinced him to get one; he’s always text messaging Evan.”

You sighed and did as asked, organising a three-way call between you and the boys before Barty ripped it back out of your hands and held it to his ear.

“Yes, hello, am I speaking to one-half of the dumbest duo in all of the British Isles?” He spat into the phone.

“Yes, and hello Lupin, thanks for joining this call. There’s an emergency.”

You cringed at Barty’s very purposeful word choice when you heard the voices of both your boyfriends pick up in volume over the phone.

“Yes, well, you best hurry. We’re near the Disney Store on Oxford St.” Barty demanded before hanging up and looking at you excitedly. “We should go to the Disney Store!”

“What have you done?”

Barty didn’t have a chance to answer before you heard two snaps of apparition from an alleyway a few shops away from you and you saw your two boyfriends running over.

“Dove!” 

“What’s the matter!?” Regulus demanded, crouching next to your form immediately as Remus knelt directly in front of you.

“Well hello to you too, boys. Merlin you’re with rude blokes, Treasure.”

Regulus’ silver gaze darted menacingly to Barty. “You told us there was an emergency.”

“Are you okay, dove? What’s wrong?” Remus asked you quietly. You offered him a reassuring smile before Barty carried on in his theatrics. 

“There is an emergency, you knobhead. You’ve not only defiled this beautiful flower; you’ve allowed her to walk for kilometres with her condition!”

“Condition!?” You and Regulus squawked at the same time.

“Junior.” Remus admonished with a tired sigh. “She’s barely five months along and-”

“Five months!? You’ve been keeping this from me for five months!?” He beseeched as he turned his ire onto you.

“And,” Remus raised his voice. “It’s good for her to stay active; it keeps her and the baby strong and healthy.”

And didn’t that just shut Barty up.

“Hey. Yeah I’m alright thanks, how are you?” Regulus said into his phone, causing the three of you to all look over at him.

“Yeah, can you come pick your boyfriend up, please? Oxford Street near the Disney Store. Right. Okay, thanks. Bye.”

He pocketed his phone and looked at Barty with no lack of vexation.

“Now why would you call my boyfriend, Black?” Barty asked as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, causing you to scoff at the hypocrisy. 

“You feeling okay, dove?” Remus asked again, squeezing your elbow gently with and looking at you with eyes so full of love and concern you felt like you were going to implode.

“I’m okay; we’re okay.” You insisted, causing him to let out a relieved breath and press his forehead to your abdomen. 

“What have you done now, Junior?” Evan drawled as he casually walked towards the four of you with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.

Barty stomped over to his boyfriend and plucked the smoke from his lips and vanished it disturbingly close to the muggles brushing past the two of them.

“We’re in one of those moods, are we?” Evan looked Barty up and down disapprovingly. 

“She’s pregnant.” Barty emphasised, throwing a dramatic arm out behind him to gesture at you causing a passing man to have to duck lest he be clotheslined. 

“Oh, bet? Congrats.” Evan said, nodding to the three of you.

“You’re supposed to be on my side!” Barty said with a stomp of his foot.

Evan simply rolled his eyes before he picked his boyfriend up and threw him over his shoulder. “Right, let's get you home.”

“Treasure! You need anything, anything, and you ring me, yeah? Get Regulus to give you Evan’s number. EVAN, TAKE ME TO A MOBILE STORE!” 

Their forms disappeared behind a building a few moments before you heard a snap of apparition and you all let out a sigh of relief.

“You’re really okay, dovie?” Remus asked again, a protective hand cupping the nape of your neck and his other hand resting against your waist.

“Just fine, bubs.” You assured him, pressing a kiss to his nose. You were rewarded with Remus relaxing his shoulders and Regulus letting out another sigh of relief.

“Well, I think that went rather well.” You offered cheerfully.

That earned you an unimpressed glare from both boys.

[lev1hei1chou]

Run Away

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 653 Synopsis: Your daughter wants to run away from home Masterlist

In the Gojo household, chaos was just another member of the family. Amidst the battles and the trials, there was a slice of normalcy: your child.

Little Yuki was the light of your life. She looked like the carbon copy of Gojo, but somehow inherited your calmer personality. Like any child of her age, she had her moments of defiance. And today was one of those days.

"Mommy, Daddy!" Yuki's voice pierced through the silence of the household like a tiny arrow. You and Gojo exchanged a glance, accustomed to such interruptions.

"What's up, kiddo?" Gojo asked, a grin already spreading across his face.

"I want ice cream for dinner!" Yuki declared, crossing her arms over her chest, her pout matching her father's all too well.

You exchanged a look with your husband, silently communicating that it was a battle neither of you were going to win. "Sorry, sweetheart," you began, "but ice cream isn't really a dinner food."

Yuki's face fell, her disappointment evident. But instead of the expected protest, she surprised you both with a declaration. "Well, if I can't have ice cream for dinner, then I'm running away!"

Gojo's laughter echoed through the room, and you couldn't help but chuckle at your daughter's dramatics. "Running away, huh? Where to?" he teased, kneeling down to her eye level.

Yuki's tiny brows furrowed in concentration as she pondered her escape plan. "To the park! I'll live on the swings and under the huge elephant slide!"

You exchanged another glance with Gojo, both of you struggling to contain your laughter. "Well, we'll miss you, little adventurer," you said, trying to keep a straight face. "But don't forget to pack your teddy bear!"

Yuki's resolve wavered for a moment as she considered the logistics of bringing her favorite plush companion on her great journey. "Okay!" she exclaimed, dashing off to her room to fetch her teddy.

As she disappeared down the hallway, Gojo turned to you with a amusement in his eyes. "Should we let her go through with it?"

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "Of course not. But let's play along for a bit. It'll be good for a laugh."

Agreeing to the plan, you and Gojo followed Yuki to her room, where she was diligently stuffing her teddy bear into a tiny backpack. "All packed and ready to go?" Gojo asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Yuki nodded solemnly, her expression a mix of determination and excitement. "Yep! I'm gonna live at the park forever and ever! And I'll have a lot of fun!"

As she made her way towards the front door, backpack bouncing with each step, you exchanged a knowing look with Gojo. This was going to be one for the family scrapbook.

With exaggerated solemnity, you and Gojo followed Yuki out the door, watching as she marched purposefully down the sidewalk, her tiny frame filled with determination.

But as she reached the end of the block, her resolve began to waver. The park seemed much farther away than she had anticipated, and the weight of her decision started to sink in.

You and Gojo watched from a distance, hidden behind a tree, as Yuki paused at the corner, her bottom lip trembling ever so slightly.

"I don't think I want to run away anymore," she finally admitted, her voice barely audible from your vantage point.

With a silent nod, you and Gojo emerged from your hiding spot, unable to contain your laughter any longer. Yuki's face lit up at the sight of you both, her momentary distress forgotten.

"I'm sorry for trying to run away," she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

Gojo scooped her up into his arms, planting a kiss on her forehead. "It's okay, sweetheart. We know you were just upset. But next time you want something, just ask nicely, okay?"

Yuki nodded, her tears replaced with a wide smile. "Okay, Daddy."

[b1rds3ye]

hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!

YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333

Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)

Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333

Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.

There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.

It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.

You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.

Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.

A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.

A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.

That simply won't do.

Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.

A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.

"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.

You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.

"You broken?" he asks.

"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.

"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”

You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-

"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.

John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.

"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.

Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.

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