#oh and if you picked the second one you're right

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.

You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.

Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.

Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.

They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.

You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.

"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."

"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.

He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."

Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"

"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.

"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.

The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."

As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."

Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."

The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."

"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.

"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.

You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"

"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.

Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."

"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"

"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"

"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.

"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"

"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"

You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."

He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."

"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.

There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"

Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."

"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"

"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"

"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."

Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"

"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"

"You're incorrigible."

The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"

"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"

He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."

"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."

It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.

And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.

And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.

"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."

You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."

"Not to Bucky, you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."

Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.

You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."

You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."

He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"

You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."

That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"

You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."

He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."

"I don't."

His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."

He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."

You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"

You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"

He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."

"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"

"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"

The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."

"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."

He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"

You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."

"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."

"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."

"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."

"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."

"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."

You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.

And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.

Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.

For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."

A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."

You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.

You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.

Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.

You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.

Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.

And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.

Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"

"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"

"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."

Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"

"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"

Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"

"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"

You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."

You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."

"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.

You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.

Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.

So that's exactly what you were going to do.

Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."

You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.

In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."

He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"

"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.

You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."

"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."

His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"

"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.

You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"

"Of course. Anything for my girl."

You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.

The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.

He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.

He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.

And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.

Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"

Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."

"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."

"Where does she live again?"

Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."

Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."

He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.

Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"

His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"

"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."

"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.

Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."

"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.

It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.

You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."

"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."

An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."

"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.

"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."

"Any other tips?"

"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."

It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"

You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just relax. They'll love you."

As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.

Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.

Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."

"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."

She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."

"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.

"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."

"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."

Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."

As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.

As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.

"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"

"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."

As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.

"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."

"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."

"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."

"Mother," you sharply warn.

"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."

A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."

"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.

"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.

"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.

"In between courses."

"Courses?"

Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."

Your father snorts, "Really?"

You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."

"Any siblings?" your mother asks.

"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."

"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.

"Dad," you hiss.

Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."

Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."

"A man with a plan. I like that."

"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."

You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.

You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.

As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."

"You're welcome back anytime, James."

"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."

The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"

"He's a nice boy."

You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."

"You'll grow out of it."

Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"

"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."

"You don't know him."

"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."

You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"

"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"

You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."

You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.

The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.

He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.

This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.

Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."

"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."

"Bucky?"

He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."

"What?"

"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."

Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."

"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."

"Is that really what you thought last night was?"

"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."

"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."

"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."

You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"

"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"

"See what?" you demand.

"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"

"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."

His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

"Do you mean that?"

"Every word."

"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"

You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."

"I'll quit," he immediately replies.

"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"

"That surprise you?"

"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.

He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."

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As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[rafesfavgirl]

do you enjoy being hurt? — r. cameron

a little self-indulgent bc why do the people in my life always act up when i'm already stressed over finals 🙃

❝ baby, i just don't get it do you enjoy being hurt? ❞

pairing: bsf!rafe x fem!reader

context: after another break up with your boyfriend, rafe finds you.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: reader's in a toxic relationship, overprotective!rafe, insecure!reader, a little fluff, angst

"y/n, what the hell?" rafe comes bursting through your bedroom door without warning, and you quickly wipe away the tears that have been caused by your boyfriend—or ex-boyfriend—who had just broken up with you. again. "i've been-"

the look of frustration on his face switches to one of concern in a single second, rushing to crouch down beside you sitting down on the floor, leaning back against your bed. "woah, woah, woah," he says, picking your face up in his hands and making you look at him. "why you crying?"

"it's nothing, rafe," you push his hands off your face and stand up to look at yourself in your vanity mirror. pieces of your hair were sticking to your cheek from dried up tears, and your eyes were bloodshot red and puffy.

"it's not nothing," he argues, looking at you through the mirror. "you're fucking crying, y/n! what happened?" his concern slowly morphs into anger, frustrated at the fact that you wouldn't tell him anything. "it was evan, wasn't it?" he spat, beginning to pace around your room in an attempt to calm himself down. 

"that fucking motherfucker," he muttered, not being able to stop the words that fall out of his mouth. "what'd he say or do now? fuck another bitch? tell you you're not hot enough for him? accuse you of cheating? i swear to god y/n, if-"

when he realizes that you've broken down again, tears flowing out of your eyes as you leaned your hands on the vanity and stared down at it, he stops and rushes to your side.

"i'm sorry," his voice is soft now, a hand gently coming across the small of your back as a sob fell from your mouth and tears continued to trail down your cheeks. "i didn't mean to— hey. hey," he turns you around, his big arms wrapping around you in a comforting hug.

your sobs and sniffles only double in amount, as you melt into him and cry against his chest. "why am i like this, rafe?"

"shhh, shhh," he caresses your hair with his hand and rests his chin on top of your head. "it's okay."

"no, it's not okay," you reply, wiping at your tears. "i know that, i just don't-"

"hey, hey, hey," rafe separates himself form you, just enough to cup your cheeks in his hands, thumbs wiping at your tears. "just tell me what happened, a'ight? can you do that?"

sniffling and wiping at your nose, you nod at him, and he pulls away so you can both move to sit on the bed.

you pull your knees close to you chest, while rafe waits for you to speak. "he broke up with me… again," you say. "told me i wasn't doing enough, that i didn't benefit him in anyway. that there were other girls who did more for him, who were better." you just stare at the ground, refusing to look at him, knowing that the second you did, you'd break again.

rafe brings a hand up to rub his chin, heat rising in chest as a scoff left his mouth. that motherfucker.

"do you think he's right?" when you finally let your watery eyes meet his, the band that kept him in control snapped.

"oh fuck no," he immediately stands from the bed and charges towards the door. "i'm gonna give that son of a bitch-"

you scramble to your feet and follow him, stopping right in front of him to keep him from going any further. "rafe, no," you say, placing a hand on his heaving chest. "you can't."

"fuck you mean, i can't?" he asks, fuming. "that idiot made you cry. and not only that, but he made you feel as if you weren't good enough for him. you can't just tell me something like that and expect me to-"

"please," you plead, eyes only on his. "if you say something to him, it's only gonna make it worse. i don't want him to-"

"to what?" rafe cuts you off, his muscles tensing. "has he laid a hand on you?"

"not on purpose," you mumbled.

"what?" rafe asks through gritted teeth.

"we were both really mad," you shrug, no longer meeting his eyes. "i got pissed that he just started saying all that shit to me so i told him to calm the fuck down and got in his way so…"

"so… what?" you could tell by the sound of his voice that the next words you spoke could either have him snap or keep it together.

"look, it doesn't even matter, alright?" you push past him and head back into your room.

"the fuck you mean it doesn't matter?" he immediately follows after you, gently grabbing your wrist to make you look at him. "hey, look at me. did he touch you?"

cowering under his strong gaze, you mumble quietly. "it was an accident."

seething, his posture straightens and his hand drops from your wrist. "i'll see you later."

he turns on his heel without letting you get another word in and walks out of your room.

against your better judgment, and afraid of what he might do, you follow him down the hall and down the stairs.

"rafe," you call after him, but he ignores you and proceeds towards the foyer. "rafe, wait."

you jog to catch up and walk ahead of him, stopping him in his tracks by placing a hand against his hard, heaving chest. "where are you going?"

"get out of my way, y/n," he tells you, refusing to have his angry eyes meet yours.

if you thought he would just stand by while you told him your boyfriend "accidentally" laid a hand on you, you obviously didn't know him at all.

"where are you going?" you repeat yourself, and he finally looks at you.

"where do you think i'm going?"

you shake your head at him, your shoulders going limp. "please don't."

"for fuck's sake," he mutters under his breath and turns away from you to run a frustrated hand across his buzzed head. "why are you defending him?"

you wince at the tone of his voice, and shrug. "i'm not. it’s just-“

“just what?” he stops pacing and closes the distance between the two of you, taking both your hands in his. “i mean seriously, y/n. why do you stay with him? help me understand.”

looking into his pleading eyes, you couldn’t do much more than shrug. “i don’t know.”

and it was true. maybe you’d gotten so used to the toxicity that it was normal to you now. how fucked up is that?

a scoff leaves his mouth as he glances down and fiddles with your fingers, but it wasn’t bitter or disappointed. you really couldn’t quite place it.

“i just… i’ve gotten so used to it,” you admit. “i don’t know anything else.”

“don’t you know you deserve better?” his eyes meet yours again, but they’re no longer angry or searching for answers. they’re just sad.

you’d be lying if you said it didn’t cross your mind. every time your “boyfriend” had broken up with you, you swore to yourself it was the last time. that you couldn’t let him keep treating you the way he did, because he’d only take advantage. but that was much easier said than done.

“i’m not perfect, rafe,” you shrug, tears threatening to line up against your bottom waterline. “and love isn’t either.”

“but it shouldn’t hurt,” he tells you. “i mean, is this what you really want for yourself? some guy who constantly belittles you and makes you feel as if you’re not enough for him?”

“but what if he’s right?” you ask, causing rafe’s heart to shatter a little. he couldn’t believe that you, of all people, could really buy into that shit. you’d always been so perfect in his eyes. “what if-“

“oh, doll,” he drops one of your hands to caress your cheek. “there are so many guys out there who’d kill to just get an hour of your time.”

you lean into his touch without even thinking about it. “you think so?”

“i know so,” he nods, thumb swiping under your eye to wipe a new tear away. “let him go.”

this isn't even the draft i was suppose to finish but fuck it, we ball. this was the one that my creative juices wanted to write. look out for that ex-bf!rafe smut soon tho 🌝

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride 3

The Daughter

⚠️Warning: There's some inappropriate content in here! Not smut but still, mildly sexual! Proceed with caution! For those of you that want to skip lucifer being a touch starved snake I will mark where that ends.⚠️

When you woke up you were still in that horrible room. Dark red silk sheets stuck to your legs and arms. Warm comforters cocooned you. The neon red translucent fabric of the canopy hangs over you. You turn over to your left towards the door.

"Good morning!" Lucifer smiled. You leapt backwards in fright! You almost fell of the bed if not for him catching you holding you by your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Careful darling! We can't have my beautiful bride getting hurt, now can we."

"How long have you been watching me?" You scooted as far away as he'd allow. 

"Not long. About an hour or so. Which in the face of eternity is about the equivalent to a microsecond for a human. Anyway I made you breakfast! I kept it nice and warm for you!" He smiles and brought over the tray from the side table and popped the silver cloche off the matching tray.

"Hm, pancakes. Thanks, I guess." You shrug and take the tray. You cut off a piece and looking at like it had sprouted a face.

"I made it with a special ingredient." He giggled.

"Is it your semen? Because that’s really crossing a line." You set your fork down and pushed the plate away

"EW NO!" He exclaimed staring at you as if you'd grown a second head.

"Period blood then?" You asked unamused. 

"Um no, I don’t have one of those." He grimaced. 

"Well I do, so thanks for that." You glared as he turned his head down.

"Why would you think that I put either of those in there?"

"I've seen enough yandere anime to know what to expect."

"What's an anime?"

"A necessary evil."

"Well I made these with love!" He smiled at you baring his spiky teeth

"So you used a love potion?"

"NO! No! Nononono! No, no, no! Yeah uh, the bird brain 4 floors down would kill me if I tried. Plus I'm confident in my abilities to woo you. I am the original "Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl" after all." He caressed your cheek. Well at least you know now that his hands are indeed an inky black.

"Which caused all the problems we have today." You deadpanned pulling away.

"Come on Doll! You gotta eat up!" He grabbed the fork and brought it to your lips. "Doll. Eat. Or I'll make you."

You growl and eat. What was supposed to be a romantic gesture ended up feeling hollow and forceful.

"Oh by the way I had a simple dress made for you from the measurements I took the first time I dressed you."

"What?"

"I altered that old wedding dress and shoes." 'So he knew that old shirt was too small for me! Pervert!' "I just had one made so we could go out shopping together! You can't exactly walk around Hell in an old wedding dress." He snapped his fingers and a white dress appeared before you with a belt that matches the pink in his vest appeared.

"…thanks." You force a smile. He places the dish to the side, and hugged you.

"Okay hang on!" You wiggled out of his grasp. "You need to stop touching me without my consent!"

He looked shocked but turned to look at the floor sullenly. "Sorry… I'm just happy to have someone around since my wife left me."

'He's trying to guilt trip you! Don't fall for it! Stand your ground!' You mentally screamed at yourself 

"And now that she's gone I guess I'm a bit touch starved. My daughter doesn't call or text. And the people of Hell aren't exactly the nicest, can't really go up to any of them and ask for a hug." He fiddled with the comforter under him.

'Stop it'  Your not sure who that was meant for.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you. I just- don't exactly pick up on people's feelings all the time. While that's no excuse I just… I'm sorry."

"…get out so I can change." You looked away. 'I will NOT develop feelings for the DEVIL of all people!'

He looked at you with big pleading eyes. "Can't I stay?"

"NO!"

"Oh right, you're traditional." He rolled his eyes.

'It's like it goes in one ear and out the other.' "Just leave!"

"Okay, sorry." He chuckled at you.

You slip on the dress and grab a comb from a big vanity across from the bed. 'I really need to be more observant. I can't stay here! I need to escape. But where would I go? It's Hell after all, not like they'll just let people out.' You opened the door and saw Lucifer fiddling with a duck in the hallway. He had put on a white top hat with a snake wrapped around it and had a crown and an apple as well. Next to him on the wall leaned a can with an apple for the handle. 

"Here! I made you this while waiting!"

"It's a duck." Was all you could say. 'No shit Sherlock.'

"Uh huh." He said with a big dopey grin.

"It looks like me."

"Cute isn't it?" He smiled.

"I think it’s ugly. This poor creature has to look like me after all." You joke.

He looked at you sadly. "Don't say that! You're beautiful! You're the most beautiful human I've met since Lilith!"

"Lilith? As in the Succubus from the Jewish religion?"

"Yeah... she was my first wife."

"I thought she was Adam's first wife."

"I told you I was the original "Mr. Steal-Yo-Girl."" He smirked. "Oh here!" He offers you white flats. "Can I put them on you?"

"Who the Fuck Am I Cinderella?"

"Well you certainly are a princess."

"If this is your way of telling me you see me as a pillow princess, just stop because that's not going to happen."

"Heh, I'm not even the one who made the innuendo this time."

"I'm not going to have sex with you."

"You'll want to once you fall in love with me!"

"Just give me the shoes." He handed them over and you slipped them on. "What's all this about anyway? Shouldn't you super busy running Hell, torturing sinners for all eternity?"

"I just want to spoil you with my riches! I'll give you anything you want! Anything at all! Just love me, want me, cherish me, and think only of me."

"Where have I heard that before? Other than a movie with IRL Kakashi (A/n: If you know, you know). I'm pretty sure it was in a big book. Matthew 4:10. Or is that wrong since you said that you and Satan are different people?"

"Doll. If you ever speak of that book in my house again, I will rip your tongue out."

'Daddy issues.' "So where are we going?" You change the subject.

"I'm so glad you asked." He grabbed his cane and started to walk away while you rush back to your room to put the duck down on the bed. "I rented out the fanciest shopping center in the pride ring! I don't know if I can take you to the other rings. Lilith transformed into a demon when she was cast into hell. Darling?"

"I had to put the duck down! Wait up!"

"Oh that reminds me I need more paint supplies. Hey! Have you ever had Cong You Bing. Let me tell you, for a pancake it's SO savory. I guess it's the syrup that makes pancakes sweet though. I like mine with whip cream. How about you?" 'He has a very one track mind.'

"Uh, chocolate chips and strawberries." You say as Lucifer opens the door to a long red Limo. 'Why is everything red? It's too much red!'

"Hm! I'll have to keep that in mind for tomorrow!" He slides in next to you. 

"We're not going to have pancakes every day are we? If So I might have to take over cooking breakfast."

"I would die to eat your cooking. I guess not because I don't really have a soul so I'd kind of cease to exist. But could you imagine if I ended up down here again! I'd be one unlucky bitch."

"Where will I go when I die?"

"I'm working on that Darling" You hadn't realized you said that out loud. 

Lucifer keeps talking while the limo drives into a huge town. Gigantic buildings lined every street. A few of the buildings had eyes. Some had strange designs like they were ripped out from a Dr. Sues Book. Others were dark and dingy; like whoever designed this was Tim Burton’s biggest fan. The limo took us into a bright neon district of the city.

"Wow! I've never seen a building so big! It's got to be at least 100 feet tall!"

"I've seen bigger. Box or whatever his name was is definitely trying to compensate."

The limo stopped in front of a long building, four stories tall. Neon blues mostly lined the outside and a bit on the inside. Neon pinks were scattered in some places. Lucifer turned to you and put a finger on your forehead bright light flashed from the tip. You looked down at you to see what he did and saw your skin turn gray. He brought out a mirror and sheepishly handed it to you. Your eyes turned black with yellow irises. Your hair was a vibrant aqua blue with some royal blue and royal purple streaks throughout it.

"Sorry. But I can't let everyone know that a live human is down here!"

He opened the door and held his hand out to you. You declined and opened the door on the other side and walked around the back to him. "Keep up."

He smirked and ran up to you. He motioned for you to follow him to the top floor. The whole top floor is only a single store. He led you to the front and immediately two attendants swarm him. "Welcome! May we have the pleasure of fitting you today, your highness?"

"Oh, no thank you ladies. We're here for her." The women looked back at you, like they weren't very impressed. One had black hair with the tips died purple with pink flowers tied throughout her hair. Her skin was lavender and so was her single eye, She wore a black button up shirt that was only buttoned on the last two buttons and underneath was a white lacy push up bra, her shirt tucked into black daisy dukes. She also had purple butterfly wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. The other girl was a blonde bunny with gold eyes. Her skin was covered in light yellow fur to match her hair. She was wearing a tight white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the skirt just barely covered her.

"Hm, we'll see what we can do." The bunny said. "I'm Firefly." She pushed herself against his arm.

"Adelpha." The other girl pushed herself against his other arm. "Renesmee!" A small Imp girl comes running out of the back. "Tend to her will you." It wasn't really a question. The two sale attendants led Lucifer away.

"Please follow me miss."

"Thank you Renesmee." You gave the small imp a smile. She wore a small black suit and her left horn was broken.

She lead you throughout the store looking for anything you might want. All you were interested in was finding a way out of hell.

"No one's ever gotten out, not since it's creation and the fall of the king and queen. What is your relationship with the king."

"Would you believe me if I said he kidnapped me?"

"Sold your soul, huh?"

"Someone else gambled away my life." You looked down sullenly. Renesmee was having trouble carrying all the outfits you had chosen, but she refused to let you help.

"What's that over there?" You pointed at nothing, and snatched a few outfits out of her hands.

"Miss please, this is my job!"

"I don't care! You're barely able to hold five outfits much less fifteen. You're a very sweet creature and you shouldn't overwork yourself." 

"Thank you miss, but really I can't allow you to. If the managers see that they'll report me to Velvette and she'll kill me! Or worse! She'll send me to work for Vox! No imp has lasted more than an hour in his care before they were sent straight to Valentino. I have a wife miss, and she's between jobs. I can't loose my job with the Vees and I don't want my face plastered in a porno."

"That's disgusting! Okay I won't hold them, but please sit and rest. I'll sit too."

"Okay." She sighed in relief.

"DARLING!!" Lucifer practically tackled you into a hug.

"What did I say about personal space?"

"Sorry I just missed you." He unhooked himself from you. "I found these cute duck pajama's in the clearance section and-" 

"Lucifer you said I could have anything I wanted."

"Yes! Anything!"

"I want you to hire Renesmee and her wife to be my personal staff."

"Miss that's not necessary."

The two clerks from before catch up and start to laugh. "Did you really think she'd hire you?" Adelpha laughed. "Pathatic! Get back to work you sister fucker!"

"Nina ain't my sister! She ain't even my species!"

"Does it really matter? You imps are so inbreed it's stunted your growth." Firefly doubled down. "The king would never hire a lowly Imp that can't even work an 8 hour shift without a five minute break every hour."

"Shut up! Renesmee is a much harder worker and a far better person than you whores!"

"Ignore them. It's just sinners being sinners." Lucifer turned you away from the women. 

"It's wrong! Renesmee didn't do anything except exist." You defended.

"Pfft look at this dumb bitch." Adelpha snickered. 

"That's just how thing's work down here. Imps work for the elite, they do menial labor." He retorted. 

"So you're telling me that they get abused and treated like shit because of how they were born. Isn't that literally racism?"

"Uh not exactly. It's just that sinners hold more weight than most Hellborn, since sinners are immortal and most Hellborn aren't." He panicked. 

"This stupid hussy is so dead." Firefly chortled. 

"We still get jobs miss. It's more of a social and raw power hierarchy." The small imp said. 

"So classism. What the fuck is this? Are you immortal? Is your kid going to have to inherit this flawed system? Is she immortal? Presumably she's Lilith's right? Or did you hook up in heaven? Is that allowed?" Thoughts flooded your head and spilled from your lips. 

"Woah woah, One question at a time darling. Heh, ironic coming from me. It's just all a bit much for me right now."

'A bit much for you? A BIT MUCH FOR YOU!? I had this whole thing thrust on me and you say that it's all a bit much for YOU!!' "You promised anything, Lucifer."

"Okay. Renesmee are you under contract with anyone?"

"I'm under a two week's notice policy with miss Velvette." 

"Go get any personal items from the back. I'll notify and compensate this Velvette character off your immediate resignation. As for you two." He glared at the two attendants that were mocking you. "Go ring up all these outfits and the ones I chose for my darling." He gives them a black card and escorted you to the exit. 5 minutes later renesmee comes rolling out riding on the back of a shopping cart. You don't even have the heart to ask where she got it from she looks too cute to mention anything.

You and Lucifer walked around the rest of the mall and he picked up anything that caught his eye. New paint supplies for his ducks; new rubber ducks; a duck necklace for you; a strawberry crepes that you two split begrudgingly on your side; he got you eight new pairs of shoes all in different colors and styles (red heals, orange flip flops, yellow sandals, green tennis shoes, blue boots, purple lolita style shoes, pink slip-ons, and black wedges); You drew the line at him coming in the with you to a store that was Hells version of Victoria Secret.

"Go buy some electronics! I'll need a phone down here."

He pouted. "Okay."

"He's so weird."

"I think the king just really likes you."

"No he's just weird. I hate how fast he's moving! It's suffocating." You gripped the skirt of your dress.

You bought out nearly the entire shop just as a little 'fuck you' to Lucifer that he wouldn't get to see you in any of them.

When you and Renesmee left you saw him waiting outside. He bought you a flatscreen, a Pc, a laptop, a wide screen monitor, a keyboard for said monitor, a matching mouse, cute cat headphones, and a fancy microphone. "I couldn't resist! I just had to spoil you!" He also had a few boxed in his hand. One was of medium size and had a picture of an iPad on it. One was small and had air-pods in them. One had a picture of a phone on the box. You took the phone and opened it up ready to get it set up.

Lucifer wrapped his arm around your waist and led you back to the limo as you fiddled with the phone.

Hey! This is the end of lucifer being a touch starved snake! If that's all you're here for I'll see you next chapter! If you want to stay for the angst enjoy the show!

The next day Lucifer woke up and was pulled away from you by Styx.

"Sire you have a meeting with the Sins today. It must have slipped your mind that the meeting was supposed to be YESTERDAY! the day of the new moon."

"Ugh let's get this over with." He walked into his study and slumped into his chair. He pulled up the video chat app. one by one the other Sins pop up. First Satan, next Mammon, then Leviathan. 

"Mammon." Leviathan said.

"Leviathan." Mammon retorted.

"Hah! I got here first I win! Fuck you guys."

"Technically I got here first." Lucifer smirked. Asmodues popped on.

"Froggy I have to go." He giggled as Fizz tickled him. 

"Oh uh, hi your majesty." Fizzarolli bowed awkwardly.

"Hello. It's always nice to see Ozzie's first serious fling."

"Hey!" Asmodues blushed. The others laughed.

"Well I should uh probably get going." Fizz blushed and hopped off camera.

"Hey everyone!" Beelzebub joined with no warning. "Hold on a second." She rushed to the door. "EVERYONE SHUT UP I'M ON A WORK CALL!! ... THANK YOU!"

"And as usual we're waiting for-" Mammon started sarcastically.

"I'm here!" Belphegor quickly signed on.

"Thank you everyone more moving our Doom Meeting to today." Lucifer smiled. (A/n: Zoom parody for those that don't get it)

"You better be fucking grateful!" Mammon sassed.

"What the fuck was so important that you had to move the meeting date!?" Satan screamed.

"It's not important." Lucifer dismissed their questions.

"Oh really? It wouldn't have anything to do with your new plaything would it?" Leviathan teased.

Lucifer blushed. "What?!" Ozzie and Bee gasped.

"You're out seeking love again after Lilith?" Ozzie took the lead.

"Let's go! Levi send the pics!"

"Don't you dare!" Lucifer threatened. Levi put them in the chat on the side. Belphegor had fallen asleep a while ago. She wasn't going to hear any of this. 

"She's adorable!" Ozzie squealed. 

"Where were you hiding this cutie?"

"A sinner? I thought you hated sinners!" Satan snarled.

"Are we going to have a meeting or not!" Mammon complained! "Time is money!"

"Leave, this is more important!" Ozzie encouraged.

"We can leave?" Satan asked enthusiastically. Him, Mammon, and Levi left.

"Hm?" Belphy woke up.

"You can leave Belphy." Lucifer smiled.

"You need help right? Charlie doesn't know, you've gotta tell her."

"Wait how do you know so much about this?" Bee looked at her surprised.

"Who do you think told Levi about the affair."

"Belphy!" Lucifer exclaimed.

"Sorry! You were just so sweet in those photo's to her."

"Should I tell Charlie? I mean I was hoping to just talk to her at the wedding."

"Woah! What wedding?" Ozzie asked.

"Oh yeah um her and I are getting married."

"How long have you two been together." Bee interogated.

"...three days."

"Yeah if you're going to move this fast you need to tell Charlie." Belphy encouraged.

"Okay, could you guys stay with me while I call her?" The three agreed and He dialed Charlie's number. "Hey sweetheart!"

"Hi dad. Do you need something?" She sounded a bit strained like she was waiting for him to ask a favor. 

"Um look Charlie. I know that things have been hard for you recently. And with the extermination that just happened a month ago you've been especially stressed."

"Uh Yeah! hold that though dad." She muted her dad and motioned Vaggie over. "Dad's finally talking about the exterminations."

"that's great honey."

"Hey dad!" she unmuted him. "you were saying..."

"Things have been hard for you and I appreciate everything that you're trying to do for the people." He was trying to butter her up and slowly easy into the idea of him getting remarried. "And you know things have been hard since your mom left."

"Yeah." She waited with baited breath. 

"Charlie... I met someone! Someone who's been a real big help and joy to me the whole time she's been with me. And I think she could really help you too."

"Really?! That's great dad!"

"Oh! Yeah, would you be willing to come by tonight and meet her?!"

"Of course! I'll be over at 5!"

"Great! See you then!"

"Bye dad!" 

"Bye!"

"Vaggie! We finally have a benefactor for the hotel!" Charlie bounced

"She took that rather well." lucifer smiled worried how you'd react to the news of meeting his daughter.

Surprisingly you took it rather well. You got dolled up and sat in the living room. Lucifer had to attend to a mini meeting to reschedule their failed meeting from this morning.

"You must be Charlie." You smiled. "You look exactly like your father. Only taller."

"Oh, thank you. My dad actually gave me this old suit jacket." It was pink and she had black flared pants with pink rims on the bottom.

You laughed. "It's hard to imagine someone like Lucifer wearing pink."

"No offense but you look... strangely human."

"It's a... long story."

"Right, well we better get down to business. may I ask what made you think redemption is possible in the first place?"

"...excuse me?"

"Redemption! The thing the Happy Hotel is- will be know for."

"What's the happy hotel?"

"Didn't my dad tell you? Isn't that why your here?"

"No." 'frankly I wish it were.' "Tell me about it."

"What?"

"No offense but the Devil's daughter trying to redeem people is a new one. And trust me I've heard a lot of crazy things." 

"I want to redeem sinners so that they can go to heaven!" She bursts out all at once.

"How will you do that?"

"Well I've been workshopping a little ditty. Would you mind if i performed for you? I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through song!"

"Please by all means! The floor is yours."

*insert inside of every demon is a rainbow*

By the end she's huffing and you clapped loudly giving her a standing ovation. "That was amazing!"

"Sorry I'm late ladies!" Lucifer entered.

"Dad! Who is she?"

"You didn't tell her?" He looked at you

"She's your daughter. It's not my place to say."

"If she doesn't want to be a benefactor for the hotel why did you want us to meet."

"Hey I never said I don't want to!" You chirped in the background but it's drowned out.

"Benefactor... Charlie when I said I met someone I meant... I-I didn't mean... I'm going to marry her..."

"What?" Charlie's voice cracked. "But what about Mom!"

"What about Mom?"

"I think I should go." You tried to leave. 

"Stay." Lucifer Ordered.

"You said that you'd love her forever!"

"Yeah at the beginning of Hell! Charlie SHE left ME. What am I supposed to do? wait for her to come crawling back to me?" 

"It would be better than you running around with some floozy under your arm digging her way into your checkbook. Does she even love you?"

"She loves me very much!"

"I really feel like I this is a father daughter Moment."

"Stay!" Charlie ordered her horns Popping out as she uttered the word. "How long have you been together?"

"A while!"

"You literally said like two days ago a month was nothing in the face of eternity." You said and this was ignored. "So now you'll ignore me."

"Don't lie to me!"

"A few days."

"A few days?!"

"When you were younger you only took a few days to know you wanted to date Seviathan!"

"I was a teenager! And look how that relationship ended."

"Charlie I know what I'm doing. I really thought that'd You'd be more supportive of me and my decisions."

"I Really don't think I should be here."

"STAY!" They both shouted at you, their horns popping from their heads, and this time you sat. 

"You always told me that Mom was the only one for you and now you're throwing that away?"

"Charlie... I thought that out of everyone I know, you'd be the most mature about this. You know I love you but you're being a spoiled brat about this! I've given up so much for your happiness. I have mad sacrifice after sacrifice and all I'm asking for is for you to understand where I'm coming from. I'm Lonely Charlie."

"I'm not going to sit here and listen to this."

"Charlie stop! You're acting like a child!"

"Don't dad. Just don't." She left.

"Lucifer! I don't want to come between you and your daughter. I grew up on evil stepmom stories, I don't want to be like that."

"Just!- We will talk about this later." And he left you alone.

"Great! Now I have the Devil and his daughter angry at me and each other! Way to go me! And on top of all of that I still don't have anyway to get home! I'm going to DIE!" You screamed into a pillow.

[tigertales9]

Anticipation

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: This is a porny nugget (oneshot) inspired by the new content over the past few days.

Time/Place: May 7, 2024 - Cincinnati, Ohio (second day of on-field workouts)

A/N: In this fic, Joe & Reader are engaged & living together in a LTR.

Inspo pic: (one of many)

You lean in close to the bathroom mirror as you finish applying your eye make-up -- subtle but smoky -- before adding a swipe of red lipstick, your pulse reacting when you hear the garage door open. "What the hell?" you whisper, quickly pulling a shorty robe over your naked body.

Joe wasn't supposed to be home yet; it was day two of on-field workouts, and you expected him to be home late like he was yesterday.

~ ~ ~

Speaking of yesterday, the entire football universe lost their damn minds when the Bengals posted a vid of him throwing for the first time since his wrist surgery. He'd actually been throwing for a while, but it was the first time he allowed video to be posted.

~ ~ ~

You tie the belt on your slinky robe just as he strides into the bathroom looking like a walking orgasm -- black shorts, black sleeveless shirt showing off his muscular arms plus a backwards cap with just enough dirty-blonde curls peeking out to make it interesting.

"Hey," you greet him, squealing when he pounces on you, planting open-mouthed kisses on your neck as you playfully scold him. "Don't mess up my hair and make-up!" you giggle, swatting his hand as he tries to slide it under the hem of your shorty robe.

"I'm serious, Joseph," you double-down when he doesn't relent, eventually wiggling out of his embrace and backing up several steps before continuing. "Shay's gonna be here to pick me up in like thirty minutes. I'm going to Mia's birthday dinner tonight, remember? We don't have time to fool around."

"Thirty minutes is plenty of time to fool around," he argues, taking a couple of steps toward you, his gaze raking over you in a way that makes your toes curl.

"I guess practice went well," you laugh, your pulse reacting to the look on his face as he takes another step toward you.

"It went great," he mutters, licking his lips while giving you another slow once-over. "I really need you right now."

You stare at each other for a few seconds before you speak up. "Have I ever told you no?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"I'm talking strictly about sex," you clarify.

"Oh … then no. Not that I remember."

"And I'm not about to start now," you murmur as you untie the belt on your robe and shrug it off, dropping it on the floor and leaving you naked to his hot gaze. "But you need to make it quick," you state, liquid heat rushing into your core when he steps forward and wraps his big hands around your waist, easily lifting you up onto the marble counter. He drops to his knees as he spreads your legs, his icy-hot eyes glued on yours as he licks a long stripe through your slick folds, from your ass to your clit, fluttering his tongue over the sensitive nub several times before giving it a thorough suck. "Yeah," you breathe, resting your feet on his broad shoulders as he gets down to business.

You enjoy the sensual show for several minutes, absolutely mesmerized by the feel and the sight of him pleasuring you with his agile tongue before you remember you're in a hurry; you pull his backwards cap off and toss it on the floor, burying a hand in his messy hair and gripping hard, using it as leverage to grind against his face.

He senses your urgency and slides two fingers into your slick heat as he continues to devour your clit. "Yeah, just like that," you moan, gritting your teeth as he curls his long fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot over and over, making a primal sound low in his throat when you cum. Your cries of pleasure echo off the walls of the bathroom as he gently laps up your arousal, murmuring sweet, filthy praise against your trembling flesh as your entire body shakes from the intensity of your climax.

Once you catch your breath, he stands up and strips naked, watching you closely as he slowly sinks his impressive erection into your slick heat; he goes completely still for several heartbeats once he's fully seated, holding his breath as the aftershocks of your orgasm cause your core to rhythmically clench his cock. "Damn, you feel so good, baby," he rasps, swallowing hard as he continues to hold himself completely still, his big, muscular body literally vibrating with need.

You wrap your legs tighter around him and draw in just enough breath to speak. "Fuck me," you whine, and that's all he needs to start thrusting, his eyes still locked on yours as you lean back, the mirror cool against your heated skin; he leans down until his lips are almost touching yours, close enough that you breathe each other's breath as he pounds into you. "I'm gonna destroy your pretty make-up later," he grits out, running his tongue through the glaze of your arousal on his bottom lip before sucking his lip between his teeth, the provocative noise making your core clamp down hard.

"I can't wait," you whimper, reaching a hand down and scissoring your fingers on either side of his cock as he continues to ride you hard, the feel of his slick length sliding through your fingers making your toes curl. "Lean back, I wanna watch," you pant, looking down as he does your bidding, the sight of his thick cock disappearing inside you over and over making you lightheaded with desire. "Pull out and finish on my stomach," you urge. "I wanna see it." He nods and gives several more thrusts before following orders, pulling out and gripping his glistening cock, giving a few tugs before throwing his head back and releasing thick ropes of cum onto you, the noises he makes going straight to your clit.

Too bad we don't have more time, you think to yourself, pressing light kisses on his shoulder as he collapses against you.

~ ~ ~

Fifteen minutes later, you're freshly washed and dressed in your halter sundress and peep-toe heels, easing your way down the stairs as Joe follows close behind wearing nothing but his black boxer briefs.

"What time will you be home?" he asks.

"Not too late," you answer, peeking out the window beside the front door before giving him a saucy grin. "I'm coming home straight after dinner instead of going to the club with the girls."

"Obvi," he mutters.

You raise your eyebrows. "Obvi? What does that mean?"

"Ummm, just that there's no reason for you to go to a club without me?"

You take a deep breath before responding. "Are you fucking serious," you say quietly. "I mean, your ass has been hitting clubs from Austin to Aspen and everywhere in between. Not to mention the strip club in Scottsdale."

His mouth drops open. "It wasn't a strip club!"

"My bad," you chuckle. "Not a strip club but a club with scantily clad bottle girls."

"I told you we were going there, and you seemed okay with it. Plus I didn't remotely interact with the bottle girls," he argues.

"Calm down," you soothe, "I saw a few pics and vids of you standing on the back wall as far from the 'action' as possible."

"Hope I didn't look as awkward as I felt," he grumbles.

"You looked pretty awkward, not gonna lie." You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you continue. "Hot as hell but def awkward."

He narrows his eyes at you as you try to suppress your giggles. "Thanks a lot," he grumps. "You know that's not my scene, and it damn sure wasn't my idea."

"Awww, poor baby," you purr, sticking your tongue out sarcastically. "Forced to be surrounded by hot, naked women. That must have been awful for you."

"They weren't naked!" he sputters.

"Oh yeah, just scantily clad," you tease. "So no biggie, right?"

"Right," he grumbles.

"Cool," you nod, giving him a wink accompanied by a smirk. "Keep that same energy in a few weeks when I go to Kayla's bachelorette party."

"Wait … what?" His eyebrows immediately head for his hairline. "I thought y'all were just renting a big, fancy airbnb with a resort-style pool."

"That's right," you nod, batting your lashes at his confused look.

"From what you've told me," he muses, chewing on his plump bottom lip while trying to recall the last convo you had about the party. "Y'all are having a pool party, catered BBQ dinner, hitting a club to dance, then coming back to the airbnb for a sleepover and brunch the next day."

"That's the plan," you state, not even trying to hide your shit-eating grin.

"Okaaay, so what do you mean by 'keep that same energy'?" he asks.

You give a nonchalant shrug before answering. "Kayla's maid of honor decided to hire a bartender and a couple of cocktail waiters. They'll be there for the pool party and dinner. They're obvs not staying for the sleepover."

His eyes quickly go from comically wide to narrow slits. "Cocktail waiters?"

"Yep."

He gives an annoyed snort while rolling his eyes. "Emphasis on the 'cock' I'm assuming?"

"I mean, they're not strippers."

"So they're gonna be fully clothed the entire time?"

"Define 'fully clothed'," you snark, giggling when his mouth drops open. "Oh please, don't look so scandalized," you continue. "They're gonna be scantily clad not butt naked." You inspect your new manicure for a second before recapturing his gaze. "And we've established that scantily clad is perfectly fine for these types of things, right?"

He starts to speak, but the look on your face stops him cold. "Right," he eventually mumbles.

"Good," you smile. "It would be pretty hypocritical of you to hold me to a different standard than you hold yourself."

You stare at each other for several heartbeats before your phone rings, causing both of you to jump; you check the display and quickly answer it, nodding your head and listening as Shay tells you what's up.

You eventually end the call and take a deep breath. "Mia is having flu-like symptoms, so we're gonna postpone her birthday dinner."

"That's too bad," he states, gently taking your phone and purse and setting them on the entryway table. "We'll order food in a bit, but first I need something, okay?" he asks, reaching a hand behind your neck to untie your halter dress. You nod without saying anything as he helps you take your dress off, your body humming with anticipation as he folds your dress and places it on the entryway table. He slides your panties off and tosses them to the side before turning to face you, the look on his face causing your core to contract.

You sink to your knees and reach both hands out toward him, licking your lips as he steps into your embrace; your mouth waters as you help him strip off his undies, your hands immediately teasing his erection as it springs free, your tongue tracing that one prominent vein, base to tip. "So good," he breathes, watching close as you wrap your ruby-red lips around his thick shaft and start bobbing, slow at first then a little faster, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat.

He leans into the pleasure, one big hand planted against the front door and the other cupping the back of your head, his hips rolling forward as you take him deep. "So good, baby, but I wanna cum inside you," he eventually groans, pulling out and reaching down, wrapping his hands around your waist and chuckling at the squeal you let out as he easily hoists you over his shoulder.

"Holy shit, you're a total caveman," you giggle. "Carrying me like a sack of potatoes."

"Like a sexy sack of potatoes," he purrs, taking the stairs two at a time while you hold on for dear life.

"Don't drop me!" you chirp.

"I lift quadruple your weight every fucking day," he boasts. "Don't worry about me dropping you."

"Yes, sir," you breathe, squeezing your eyes closed until he gently lays you on the bed; you let your thighs fall open, expecting him to immediately crawl in between. When that doesn't happen, you flutter your eyes open, making eye contact with him. "You okay?" you ask. "Did you hurt your wrist?"

"My wrist is fine," he soothes, his pretty lips twisting into a sardonic grin. "Just so you know," he continues. "I'm gonna fuck you stupid before you go to that dumb bachelorette party."

"You always fuck me stupid," you purr.

"Then I'm gonna fuck you double stupid," he boasts, his cocky smirk making you chuckle.

"I can't wait," you admit. "The anticipation is half the fun."

"Oh yeah? Then you can anticipate walking funny tomorrow after I get done with you tonight."

"Don't threaten me with a good time," you tease, squealing in delight when he rolls you onto your stomach and smacks your ass, his lips finding that perfect spot behind your ear as he crawls between your spread thighs.

[thalialunacy]

[for the @calaisreno May Prompt-a-long, and based on a true story.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) 9: intimidation

John jerks his head up from his laptop the second he realises something alarming:

The flat is quiet.

'Sherlock.'

'Hmm?' Sherlock doesn't look up from his experiment.

'Where's Rosie?'

Sherlock raises his hand to point. 'She's right--' He finally actually raises his head. 'Oh. Dear.'

'Hell,' John curses, ignoring a shot of pain as he stands too quickly.

Sherlock's Voice of Reason tendencies are very useful here. He puts himself in front of John and forces his gaze. 'Don't let's panic. She didn't grow wings, nor is it likely she suddenly gained the physical capacity to climb a baby gate. So she's just hidden herself somewhere. She probably thinks it's a game. You search the sitting room, I'll take the loo and then the kitchen. Alright?'

John nods, and promises himself he'll show Sherlock his appreciation later. Possibly with something beyond the snatched kisses they've managed so far. 'Alright.'

Three minutes later, he hears Sherlock's long sigh. 'John.' John strides over to where the detective is standing in front of his bedroom door. 'Apparently…'

'It locks?'

'It locks.'

'What about the second loo door?'

Sherlock grimaces. 'I always keep that one locked from the inside.'

'Alright, where's your key?'

'I don't have a key for either door. Never did do.'

John leans in towards the door. 'Rosie?' he calls, trying to keep his tone calm.

'Yeah, Daddy!'

The air escapes his lungs in a great dirty whoosh. 'Oh thank Christ,' he mutters. He raises his head and turns to Sherlock. 'Can you go see if--'

Sherlock's already halfway out the kitchen door, calling back, 'I'm sure she'll have one.'

But Mrs Hudson does not, in fact, have one, she tells John once she's come upstairs, wringing her hands as best she can with her wrist in a soft cast. 'I'm sorry! I'll call a locksmith straight away.'

'Nonsense,' Sherlock says over her. 'My lockpicks are, unhelpfully, behind the locked door, but I bet you could get me a hairpin and a nail file, please?'

John looks at Mrs Hudson and shrugs. 'Not things I keep on hand, I'm afraid.'

'Oh, pah, you boys. I'll be back in a tic.'

'Do you think you can actually pick it?' John asks quietly as soon as he can hear her feet on the stairs.

'Erm…possibly.'

'Possibly.'

'It's quite old and disused, John.'

'And?'

'And that means rust. Decay. Mechanisms that don't work anymore.'

'Christ,' John mutters. He puts his forehead to the door again. 'Sweetheart?' he calls.

'Daddy?'

'Will you open the door for me, Rosie?'

'Ermmm, no,' she says clearly.

'God grant me patience,' he says to himself, and jerks his head up when he hears Sherlock laugh.

'Sorry,' Sherlock says, clearly not sorry at all, 'but you sound like my mother.'

'Yes, I'd imagine she needed a deep well of patience to raise you.'

'Endless. Rosamund?' he says to the door. 'Do you want to unlock that door so you can help me with an experiment?'

John eyes him, but if it works, then--

'Nope,' she replies, popping her P like a certain someone.

'She's evil,' John mutters.

'She's stubborn.'

'She gets that from you.'

'I beg your pardon,' Sherlock says, quite offended. 'I am reasonable.'

'Sure. When you're not being stubborn.'

Sherlock pivots very unsubtly. 'Ms Watson, if you unlock that door, then Mrs Hudson will bake you some of those cakes you like.'

John pushes against his shoulder. 'Her wrist is broken!' he whispers incredulously.

'We can buy some at the bakery,' Sherlock whispers back. 'She'll never know.'

'You're evil.'

'Yes, well, you let me past the threshold, so you can really only blame yourself.'

'No, thank you!' Rosie calls back.

John rolls his eyes. 'Sure, she's polite for Mrs Hudson.'

'Clever.'

'Not helpful.'

'We could try intimidation.'

'Could we, though?' John asks, bemused.

'You can be very intimidating when you like, despite your stature.'

'Thanks,' he replies dryly.

But before they can debate the merits of trying to intimidate a toddler into doing anything, Mrs Hudson re-appears with the requested items. 'Oh, I do hope you can pick it, Sherlock. I will be very disappointed in your skills otherwise, you speak so highly of them.'

John coughs a laugh into his hand. 'Thanks, Mrs H.'

Twenty minutes later, though, John's growing desperate, texting everyone in his phone to see if they have any brilliant ideas. Wondering how much it would cost to just lift the door off it's hinges.

In the end, he should have known to just ring Molly first. 'Just put me on, okay?' she says quickly. John does as requested. 'Hi, Rosie!' she says cheerfully via speakerphone.

John and Sherlock exchange a look. 'Rosie,' John says, trying to keep his tone pleasantly neutral. 'If you come out, you can talk to Aunt Molly,'

They all hold their breath.

Then the lock turns.

[❤️]

[dira333]

Orange Peel Theory - Ukai Keishin x Reader

"Would you peel an orange for me?" You ask, phone crammed between your head and shoulders.

"Hah?" Keishin asks, turning down the car radio to hear you better.

"Would you peel an orange for me? I kinda want one."

"Babe, you're allergic."

You grimace. Right. Fuck.

"You wanna try something orange-flavored?" He asks, voice turning softer. "I think we have something in the story that has no actual orange in it. It tastes pretty decent."

"Nah, it's okay."

"You sure? I'll get it for you after training. Can it wait that long?"

"Yes," you laugh softly, deciding to come clean, "It's not... It's not really about the orange, baby, it's more about the peeling."

Keishin's silent for a second. Then "Hah?"

You laugh, louder this time.

"It's a TikTok Trend. Apparently, if your boyfriend peels an orange for you when you ask it means he loves you."

"Oh," he chuckles low in his throat, a sound that vibrates up and down your spine even at this distance, "You could have just said that. I love you. Of course, I'd peel an orange for you."

"Aw," you start before he cuts in. "Because you don't know how."

"Excuse me?! I do know how to peel an orange."

"Nuh-uh. I saw you cut apples. I don't trust you with oranges."

"Meanie."

"Dork."

"Love you," you add, "When are you home?"

"Aiming for seven. Do you want me to pick something up from the store?"

"Yeah, I'm craving chocolate. The weird one."

"Oh," he laughs knowingly, "It's that time already? I'll bring some Pads too. Just to be safe."

"I have enough at home."

"No, you don't, you're running low. I checked."

Warmth surges through you like a tidal wave. You have to blink a stray tear away. Keishin might not peel an orange for you, but there's no doubt he loves you.

"Hey, I'll call you when I get out, okay? The pack's already here."

"HI MISS UKAI!" You can hear some of them scream in the background, no doubt Nishinoya and Hinata. There's the telltale timbre of Daichi's voice, yelling at them to keep quiet, and the soft murmur of all the others conversing.

"Tell them I'll bake a cake this weekend if they behave."

"No," Keishin chuckles, "I'm not going to threaten them with torture."

"Keishin," you gasp, "My cake is delicious!" But you're laughing even as you say it.

"Love you," he chuckles, "See you later."

"Love you more."

[irkimatsu]

Overlord Husk's nights gambling tend to run late; it's hard for you to get used to when you first start accompanying him as his lucky charm. You try so hard to stay awake for him, to cheer him on and give him the luck you promised him, but your eyes are starting to drift shut, and you're starting to sway where you stand.

"Give me a second," Husk tells his guests before he turns to you. "You doing all right, doll? Want someone to escort you to the penthouse?"

You shake your head even as you yawn. "I gotta stay with you and help you win..."

"You're not gonna be much help like that. Look at you, you're about to collapse." He pats his thigh. "Come on. Sit with me."

You sit on his lap and snuggle up to him, arms around his large waist and head on his shoulder. "I'll stay awake..." you promise, even as your eyes close. You can't open them again no matter how much you try.

"You're fine," he assures you with a gentle drag of his claws against your scalp. He then returns his attention to the game.

"You like the young ones you get to baby, huh, Husker?" one of his guests says with a laugh. "Not surprised you're into that sort of thing..."

"Shut the fuck up and start a new deal. "

You settle in against his warm body, surrounded with the new sounds that have recently become part of your everyday life. Glasses clink against polished wood, poker chips rattle against each other as they're dropped onto and pushed across the table, cards are shuffled, whoops and swears from your Overlord and his guests echo through the hall.

Even when he's not talking to you, his voice is oh so comforting.

You nuzzle into his neck, breathing in the scent of expensive cologne and tobacco. As Husk continues playing, you feel one arm slowly tightening around your waist whenever it's not needed for the game.

A stranger speaks. "So, daddy. Maybe for this round, winner could have... babysitting privileges?" The rest of the group laughs, but they immediately fall silent as a deep growl rumbles through Husk's entire body.

"They're not part of the pot, and if you even joke about that shit again, my guards will be more than happy to escort you into the alley!"

You don't know how the game ends, but after some time passes, you're vaguely aware of Husk picking you up and carrying you to the elevator.

"Maybe this is too dangerous for you, doll..." he murmurs as he enters the code for his private quarters.

In your mostly asleep state, you don't know what danger you could be in when you have him to protect you...

[mins-fins]

EPISODE 12 : ❛ yn and mark, mark and yn ❜

Mark doesn't know why his head immediately shot up when he heard his phone ring.

For starters, it's one in the morning, who in their right mind is calling him at one in the morning? Second, he isn't expecting a call from anyone, so when his phone does ring, he almost throws it at the wall as the irritating ringtone repeats over and over.

Mark groans and stares at the ceiling, not even turning on the light as he feels the bedside table for his phone, his still vibrating phone. He scowls in annoyance when he can't find it after the first thirty seconds of not feeling his phone, so he sits up, much to his own dismay, and picks up his phone.

He blinks at the screen, rubbing his eyes as he swears he reads the contact name wrong. It's you, you're calling him. Why the hell are you calling at one in the morning? A puzzled expression crosses his face, and he contemplates on if he should actually pick up.

But after what seems like forever (in Mark's metrics), he sighs and answers the phone. "Hello?"

"Hiiiiii Markie".

Mark immediately picks up on the way your words are slurred, but he doesn't comment on it right away, laying back down onto his comfy duvet. "Hi Yn, good morning" He responds, and you giggle, you giggle, Mark finds that hilarious.

"Morning? It's only.. wait it is morning! One am! Wow you're so smart!"

Mark snickers. "Basic knowledge, Yn".

"Uh huh" You say on the other line, a hiccup accompanying your words.

Mark furrows his eyebrows, thinking this would be the right time to bring this up. "Are you drunk?" He finally asks, and you giggle again on the other line, seemingly finding the question hilarious. You hiccup again before answering the question.

"Sort of?"

"That's not a yes or no" Mark is quick to reply, and you giggle again, a sound Mark missed more than anything. "Why'd you call me at one in the morning anyway?"

"I like the way your voice sounds".

The blatantly honest response makes Mark snicker, a snicker you silently gasp at on the other end of the line. "Is that you or the alcohol talking?" He inquires immediately, holding his phone with his shoulder as he begins picking his nails.

"I don't know.." You mutter on the other end, the sound of something shuffling slightly is sounded in Mark's ears. "Just wanted to confess that I guess".

"So you called me while I was asleep?"

"Yeah?"

"How were you so sure I'd pick up?"

You chuckle, as if that was one of the stupidest questions he could've ever asked you. "I wasn't, I was just really hoping you would answer, it'd would've been embarrassing if you didn't".

Mark pauses, collecting his words. How does he say this without sounding like a pining, desperate loser?

Well— he can't exactly avoid that.

"If I'm being honest, I was kinda hoping you would call.."

The statement is met with immediate silence, silence that punches Mark in the gut and spits on him as he falls. He almost rips off his nail with how anxious he is, but he doesn't comment on your silence. It's like that for a few minutes before you let out a small giggle of disbelief.

"Don't lie to me, Mark".

"I would never do such a thing, I'm being honest, maybe you should be too".

Mark wishes he regretted saying that, but he doesn't, he just wants you to speak your mind, he wants to hear your thoughts, he wants to hear how you feel from you. "Oh? You want me to be honest with you, Mark?"

Your tone of voice makes his stomach flip, it's not because he likes your voice, though, it is definitely not because of that. "Yeah, honesty is key, Yn".

"Honesty is key huh?" You click your tongue, a habit of yours that has made Mark dizzy since forever, you always look so good doing it, he can't even begin to imagine how you look right now. "Is telling you I missed you too honest? Or.. hm, is saying that maybe I'm not so over you honest enough for you?"

Though Mark chuckles at that response, he can't help the way his face heats up, thank god this is a phone call and he doesn't have to see you face to face (for now.. that is), he would never live it down. He can't believe you just said that, and all of this at one in the morning too? You really are full of surprises.

"No, I think I'd like to know more, actually".

"Ah, your greedy".

Mark raises an eyebrow at the words, but he doesn't confirm or deny the claim, just snickers. "What if I am? It's you after all".

"Aww, am I special?"

"Very".

You giggle again, you seem to enjoy giggling, Mark wants to make you giggle again, no, scratch that, he wants to hear you giggle again, it's so cute, you're so cute. You love the words, and Mark loves that you love the words.

You two always do this, huh? It's always with you. Yn and Mark, Mark and Yn..

Why did you guys even breakup?

Once the question crosses Mark's mind, he wants to punch himself in the face, and he's glad you're not there to see the way his face fall and his hands clench into fists. He feels like such an idiot, how is he still asking himself questions like this?

He knows why, he knows exactly why, you both know exactly why.

"It's late, Yn, you should sleep, and stop drinking".

"Do you really care that much for me?" You ask, your tone teasing, tormenting, another punch to Mark's already weakened gut.

"Yes, I do, now go to sleep Yn".

"Alright then, good nigh— morning, Mark, sleep well".

When you hang up, Mark stares at his phone for what seems like hours, he's not proud of himself for staring at your contact for as long as he does.

He can't sleep well, he's up all night thinking about you.

previous masterlist next

taglist 𓏧 ↳ @junjiie, @cosmiicdream, @prettyrenjunn, @multifandomania, @luvkyu, @x-alightinthedark, @haocovr, @joonggphilia, @choerubies, @enthusiastofmanythings, @doejaejung, @iluvkyo, @yawnzbf, @haechansbbg, @ldrei, @dkmyman, @lampcults, @monstaxpuppy, @dreamandback, @moonslie04

[lousypotatoes]

Everyone From The Place

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Pt. 8 Pt. 9

Song Recommendation:

Everybody Loves My Baby - Jack Palmer

Warning! This chapter had mentions of physical/mental abuse and panic attacks, and depictions of mental abuse. If any of these topics trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please read with caution.

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

90 years ago...

It had been about a month since Y/N and Alastor went out drinking together, the two of them going out every other day, whether it be getting drinks, getting dinner or lunch together, or just the two of them walking around New Orleans.

Y/N would never admit it to anyone, but she was absolutely head over heels in love with Alastor. The way he talked, the way he presented himself, how he was such a gentleman, she loved every part of him and so much more.

Alastor felt the same way about her, maybe even more. The way her face lit up whenever she talked about flowers or Honey, her sense of humor, the way she wasn't afraid to speak her mind. She didn't know it, but she had Alastor wrapped around her finger.

And he loved every single second of it.

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"That'll be three dollars, ma'am," Y/N said smiling, handing over the bouquet of lilies to the woman.

"Thank you, dear," the old woman smiled, handing Y/N money. "You have a lovely shop,"

"Well, thank you kindly," Y/N said. "I'm guessin' you're visitin' from outta town?"

"How did you know?" the woman asked.

"Every soul here in New Orleans has stepped foot in my shop at least once," Y/N said, handing the woman her change.

"For good reason," the woman said. "It's very impressive what you've done with the place. Not a lot of women can say that they own a thriving business. Especially during these trying times."

"Ah, I get that a lot," Y/N said. "Where you from anyway? If you don't mind me askin' of course."

"A small little town in Kansas," the woman said. "My daughter lives here and I'm visiting for her birthday."

"That's nice," Y/N gushed. "You tell her I said happy birthday. You have a good rest of your day ma'am."

"You as well, dear," the woman said as she walked out the door.

Y/N took the cash from the register and put it in the back room. While she was in there, she checked her schedule. She was glad that she didn't have to kill anyone that night. Even though she had been doing it for 15 years, the job left her exhausted and sleep deprived.

Who knew being an assassin was such hard work?

Walking out the backroom door, she saw a familiar face, looking at the arrange of flowers, holding a brown paper bag.

"What'll it be today Alastor?" Y/N said loudly, making him jump.

"Don't scare me like that, dear," he said, adjusting his coat. "I could of knocked over the flowers."

"You tip over any of them vases, you're payin' the bill," she laughed. "Besides, that was payback for all the times you've scared me."

"All right, all right," Alastor said, walking over to the counter. "I'll take these here marigolds."

"Marvelous pick," Y/N said. "That'll be four bucks,"

"How's business today?" Alastor asked, taking out money.

"Slow, but that's because no one wants to come outta their house, it's so hot out here," Y/N laughed. "How was the broadcast this morning? I didn't get the chance to listen to it."

"It went alright," he said, taking his change. "There were these women who kept trying to wriggle their way into the station, though."

"Seems like you have some mighty eager fans," she giggled. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh! I almost forgot! Thank you for reminding me," he said, handing her the brown bag. "I figured you wouldn't want to go out in this blistering heat, so I fetched you some lunch."

Y/N was touched. "You didn't have to do that, Al,"

"Yes, but I wanted to,"

Y/N reached into the bag. "Oh! You got me gumbo!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up in the way Alastor loved. "How'd you know?"

"I remember you telling me once," Alastor smiled.

"Thank you so much Alastor!" Y/N said. "Tell you what, tomorrow night, swing by my place and I'll whip up a batch of jambalaya for you."

Alastor's face turned red, the two of them had never been to each others house before. The only times were when Alastor would pick Y/N up for their outings together. Him only ever stepping foot in her living room.

"You don't have to do that, Y/N," Alastor said, covering his blushing face.

"Nonsense!" Y/N waved off. "It's the least I can do for you, fetchin' me lunch."

"Well, if you insist, my dear," Alastor said. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have to make it to my-"

"-2'oclok broadcast. Yes I know," Y/N interrupted. "I know the routine by heart now."

Alastor smiled, taking Y/N's hand in his "I shall see you tomorrow then, Y/N." he said, kissing her knuckle.

"I'm lookin' forward to it already," Y/N blushed.

Looking at her face one more time, smiling gently to himself, he left the store.

When he left, Y/N started giggling to herself. She was so in love with him. She felt like a giddy schoolgirl. She was so distracted that she didn't even hear the bell ring, signaling that a customer came in.

"Seems like you finally got this establishment up and runnin'," said a voice that made Y/N freeze, her eyes widening.

She turned and saw a man with wavy brown hair and cold eyes. Someone that made her blood freeze and goosebumps appear all over her skin. Someone that made her skin go pale and her breathing quicken. Someone that made her freeze in fear.

"What? So startled by my appearance that you're speechless?" the man smirked.

"W-What-" she stuttered, finding her voice. "What in God's name are you doin' here, Jasper?"

"Ain't I allowed to visit my fiancé at work?" Jasper said, coming closer to the counter.

"That was fifteen years ago!" she said, backing into the wall. "Me and you are nothin' now!"

"Just because I ended up behind bars doesn't mean we're finished,"

"That's exactly what that means!" she yelled. "You know you can't be within fifty feet of me. Now leave before I call the cops!"

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up a vase of carnations, admiring them.

CRASH!

Glass shards and flowers were scattered all over the floor.

"Oops," Jasper said.

"I mean it Jasper!" Y/N said. "Get the fuck out!"

"Don't you dare talk to me like that again, you worthless bitch," he said, a dangerous look in his eyes. "Unless you want me to beat you to a bloody pulp, just like old times."

Y/N backed into the wall, lost for words.

For the first time in fifteen years, Y/N felt scared.

"Just go away, Jasper," she whispered. "Please. I don't want any trouble."

Jasper didn't say anything, instead picking up another vase and dropping it onto the floor.

Without another word, Jasper left.

As soon as he was out of sight, Y/N's body shut down, her having to grab onto the counter to support herself. She let out a sob she didn't even know she was holding in, her cries bouncing off the flower shop walls, and her tears streaming down her face.

After about ten minutes of this, she got out a broom, and started sweeping up the glass shards and flowers. After she was done, she leaned up against the wall. Looking up at the clock above her, she saw that it was only two-fifteen.

"I need a drink," she said, exhausted.

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

It was now five-thirty, Y/N was sitting at the bar, sipping on her fourth thing of whiskey.

As soon as she closed up the flower shop, she decided to walk to Mimzy's bar, not bothering to go home and change.

She was there for about thirty minutes. Mimzy had been over to check on Y/N during those, sensing that she wasn't okay. Y/N had told Mimzy she was alright and that she just wanted to be left alone. Mimzy listened and told her that her drinks were free for the rest of the time she was there.

Already deciding before she got there, Y/N didn't want to get blackout drunk, but just drunk enough to where she would forget her and Jasper's interaction.

Sipping on her whiskey, Y/N felt angry at herself. She could have shot that asshole right in his head if she wanted to, she was an assassin for crying out loud.

But Jasper was the one person she was genuinely afraid of.

"Why aren't you smiling, my dear?" said a voice from behind her. "You know you're never fully dressed without one."

"Hi, Alastor," she said, not even turning to look at him.

Alastor frowned, knowing that something was wrong.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said, keeping her gaze on her glass. "I just had a bad interaction with a customer, that's all."

Alastor stayed silent as he sat down at the bar next to her.

"Would you like to me to keep you company?" he asked gently. "Or would you like me to leave?"

"Stay here," Y/N said, holding back tears. She felt pathetic. "Please."

"Alright then," he said.

"If I would have known you'd be here, I would have invited you," she said, sipping on her whiskey.

"Oh, don't worry about it, dear," he waved off. "I was already thinking about inviting you here anyways."

"Are you quite sure you're alright?" he asked again.

"Yes, I'm quite sure," Y/N said.

"Well in that case," he said, getting up and offering her his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Y/N smiled before taking his hand.

"You always know the best things to say, Al,"

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

It was now nine-thirty. During those four hours at the bar, Y/N and Alasotr had drank, danced, talked, laughed, and smoke. Y/N was glad that Alastor showed randomly out of the blue. She always felt better when Alastor was close by.

Alastor didn't tell Y/N this, but Mimzy had actually called her, saying "You better get your fuckin' ass over here. Something ain't right with your girl."

As soon as he hung up the phone, he headed straight to Mimzy's bar.

Right now, Alastor was currently walking Y/N home, the two of them talking about his mother's jambalaya recipe.

"Think your ma would be willin' to share her recipe?" Y/N asked.

"I don't think she'd have an issue with it," he answered. "You'd have t meet her first."

"Oh, I would love to meet your ma!" she said. "Do you think she'd like me?"

"She already adores you, darling,"

"I'm guessin' you've talked to your ma about me then?" Y/N giggled seeing Alastor's blushing face.

"What's not to talk about?" Alastor replied, making Y/N's face turn red.

They reached Y/N's house, the two of them walking up to her front porch. They were facing each other, Y/N was looking up at Alastor, while Alastor was looking down at Y/N, the two of them so close together.

"Thank you for helpin' me take my mind off today, Al," she said, looking up at him in a way that made Alastor's breath get caught in his throat.

"It really wasn't a problem, dear, you don't have to thank me," he said. "If you need help with anything, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Are we still set for jambalaya tomorrow night?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world,"

It was quiet, the two of them not saying a word.

Oh, how desperately the two of them wanted to wrap their arms around each other and kiss until they had to break apart for air.

The air between them was thick, and heavy with tension.

Alastor's eyes flickered to Y/N's lips and back to her eyes.

"Y/N..." he swallowed hard. "May I...is it alright if I kiss you?"

"Yes," Y/N whispered. "It's alright."

As gentle as he possibly could, he lifted up her chin with his fingers.

Alastor hesitated for a moment, the look on his face asked 'Are you sure this is alright?'

Y/N nodded slowly and Alastor closed the gap between them, placing his lips on hers.

His lips were soft and warm and tasted like cinnamon. Just like everything else he did, his touch was gentle. It made Y/N feel like her heart was about to burst out of chest. Testing out the fields, she very slowly and shyly moved her hands to the back of his neck.

Alastor tensed up for a moment, but relaxed, moving his hands and placing them on her hips. The way their lips moved perfectly against each other made Alastor's heart melt. The way he was feeling in that moment, he was addicted to it like a drug and wanted more of it.

Like a starved man, Alastor craved Y/N's touch.

After what seemed like an eternity, the two of them finally broke apart, breathing heavily.

"Oh, you have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that, dear," Alastor breathed out, kissing her forehead.

"Oh, I think I do," Y/N said. "How about one more? To make up for lost time?"

"You read my mind," he laughed before placing his lips on hers once more.

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

THEY KISSED RAHHHHHHH

literally i am so happy

i wanna give alastor a big o'l kiss

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Izzy

Taglist 💋

@maksdust

@trippoverrt

@slytherin4ever

@lucifers-silhouette

@a-small-tyrant

@mo-0-o

@cutiebimbo

@mommymilkers0526

@mikariell95

@al-of-the-stars

@martinys-world

@bibliophile-yomna

@mysticwitchcraftco

[luvfy0dor]

hiii can i request a drabble with nikolai, good night and rain kisses (mix) please 🕊️‼️

Nikolai + Rain and Goodnight Kisses ♡⁠˖

Warnings; cursing

Event/m.list

The droplets of water pattered down onto every surface facing the sky, including yours and your boyfriends heads. You could feel the rain dampening your hair and shoulders while Nikolai wore a smile, very pleased by the scene the two of you were painting. Two lovers in the rain, should they kiss? Nikolai thinks yes, it would be just too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. He turned to look at you, his smile faltering upon seeing your frown. "You don't seem to happy, dove." Nikolai comments, speedwalking along the darkened pavement with you. "Not really, I just got over a cold, I don't wanna get another one." You explain with a huff. Nikolai shrugs. "Oh come on, you won't get a cold, it's rather warm out." He teases. "As a matter of fact, I think it's nice, a perfect setting for a scene where two people have a disagreement and fix their issues with a kiss." He grins, trying to lead you to his idea. You roll your eyes. "That's only in movies, I'm trying to haul ass home right now, not stop for a kiss. I'm all cold and wet." You shiver, grabbing his hand to pull him along as you pick up your speed walking. "If you fall into a puddle because you're so determined to arrive home I'm going to laugh at you." He states. "It's dark out and the streetlights don't illuminate everything, sweetheart." "I'm not gonna fall, trust me." You say, your street coming into view. "Just one kiss?" He asks, squeezing your wet hand in his own. "Maybe when we get home." You say, starting to consider it just to appease him, but your cheeks heat up at the thought of the romantic gesture. You can hear his quiet "tee-hee" from his position behind you and you quickly turn the corner onto the boulevard in which you two reside. You can see your house and you let out a large sigh of relief and exhaustion. You finally walk through your driveway and to the front porch, but stop and place a hand on Nikolais chest. A chesire-cat like grin spreads acrossed his face and he lets you pull him in and kiss him, the rain drops still falling on top of you. His soaked thumbs delicately trace hearts on your face as your lips move together before parting for a breath of air, laced with the taste of the rain.

The only indication of the downpour was the visible droplets directly in front of the street lamps as the two of you walked inside.You took off your shoes and immediately went to grab towels for you both. "Stay there for a second, I'll be right back." You commanded your boyfriend, who was practically dripping. When you returned, you tossed him the cloth and he started to dry his hair, you patting down your body. The two of you silently walked to the bedroom, Nikolai already started to shed his wet clothing with his hair wrapped up and was completely topless by the time you stepped through the doorframe. While you were rummaging through the dresser drawers for pajamas, his voice broke the silence. "Could you grab me some pajamas too?" He asks, ruffling his hair to dry it. "Like pajamas pajamas or your pajamas?" Nikolai had pajama pants and old tee shirts he'd sleep in, but he often preferred to sleep in just underwear. "My pajamas." You tossed him a pair and started to strip out of your own wet clothing, hating the feeling of it sticking to your skin and making it more difficult to change. Once you finally got into clean, warm clothes, you flopped down in bed with your boyfriend who had finished changing first due to the simplicity of his sleepwear. His arm draped over your waist and he pulled you closer, kissing your forehead, nose, and finally your lips. "Y'look sleepy, all that running tire you out?" You let out an affirmative groan. "Alright then, I'll let you go to sleep, sweetheart." He kisses you one final time before allowing you to slip into a field of dreams and comfort.

A/n; I hope this was okay!! I've gotten more reqs for Nikolai than I thought I would and 3 separate requests for kissing Nikolais thighs lol 😭

[my-soupy-brain]

ted gets addicted to y/n cooking!

just him enjoying pasta and desserts and just letting himself be taken care care of 🥹

I LOVE THIS! Please oh please let me cook for that man (Ted OR Jason, I don't even care!) but Ted would absolutely gobble up some good cooking. Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x Reader

Warnings: All cozy cute comfort

---

Ted wasn't used to this. The way you doted on him. The way you helped him.

Coffee breaks, where you'd stop by with a cup of his favorite blend and a big smile. A knock-knock on the entryway of the coach's office, your beaming smile holding the paper cup with a sleeve around it.

And then for his birthday, a cake! A homemade, layered buttercream cake! He could've cried.

Oh, how he devoured that sugary goodness.

Usually he'd worry about the little bit of weight he's put on being with you. And while you're not trying to plump him up on purpose, you assure him over and over how he's the perfect man, just as he is.

When you offer to make him dinner for the first time?

Well. That about does him in.

"Come over around 7," you chimed through the phone. "Let yourself in."

He barely hit the top step when he took a deep breath through his nose, smelling the familiar smell of meat braising and cooking.

He expected a roast. Those are easy, right? One of the few things his momma taught him how to make: A good roast with carrots and potatoes. Henry always picked around the carrots. "Too mushy," he'd say.

But when he opened the handle and walked in, he saw you turned at the counter, listening to music, whisking...

BARBEQUE SAUCE.

Your whisk lifted up and the mahogany, thick liquid seeped down off the metal spires.

It smelled like damn home.

And... cornbread? Oh, and honey butter?!

His eyes ping-ponged around the counter while he watched you. Your music was loud, so you didn't know yet that he was standing there.

He leaned against the doorway and smiled as you danced and swirled your hips while you sang to the music. A bit off-key, but in Ted's mind, you deserve a Grammy.

His big hands startled you when he grabbed your hips, leaning his head over your shoulder. You yelped and he giggled, holding you tight.

"Sugar, you're makin' me barbeque?" he murmured to your hair, kissing the side of your head.

You nod. "I sure am. Wanna try the sauce?"

You hold up a spoon and he takes a lick, smiling, closing his eyes. It transports him back home.

He peeks into the oven with the light on, ribs and pork glistening as it cooks. The cornbread was cooling on the counter. You had boiled corn on the cob with a big pat of butter ready to slather on top.

His stomach growls.

"Well, that fella is talkin'. He's ready!" he jokes, touching his tummy with his big hand. You chuckle lightly.

"Take a seat, I'm about to pull everything out."

Ted laughs at the double entendre.

"Save that for for second dessert, sugar," he laughs. "I can't wait for that part."

You feel a rush of heat through your body as he says that, and it makes you smile all the more. You love the appetite you and Ted have for each other. It never gets old.

Ted helps you set the table with plates and silverware. He chatters about his day, you talk about yours. When you lay down the last bowl of food, he takes a deep breath, looks at you, and smiles.

"I'm so damn lucky," he says softly. "To have you."

Your eyes almost fill with tears. You smile, grabbing his hand, and kissing the top of it.

"I love you," you offer, those three words the first time you've said them aloud, even though you've thought them since the day you met him in that cafe on a random Thursday.

"I love you," he replied softly, leaning in to kiss your lips. You pull apart and smile. Ted's cheeks are pink with blush.

"OK, honeybunch. Dig in," you offer. Ted happily starts scooping food to his plate. He digs into the ribs first, his eyes rolling back and a big, happy "Mmmmm!" leaving his barbecue-covered lips.

It makes you happy, to treat him and take care of him. You love eating dinner out around London, and you've made little things here and there. He loved making homemade pizza with you.

But to see you take a stab at his favorite cuisine on earth? Well... you've always had his heart, but now you have it forever.

...

After dinner he helps you clean up, of course he does. Standing at the sink, drying the plates and pans after you wash them. You splash some bubbles, and he puts some on your nose.

But when you retire to the couch to watch TV, his hands start to wander and his lips reach yours, and then your cheek, and then your neck.

"Didn't get enough at dinner?" you joke, biting your lip as he groans low and lusty.

"Mmmm, I got plenty but I need second dessert," he mumbles, making you smile.

"After all that chocolate cake?"

"I'm thinkin' about bringin' that cake into round two," he adds, smirking against your skin. "Well, the frostin'."

Like a zap of lightning, your body goes crazy. He feels the tension under your skin and smirks again.

"That get your attention?" You nod with a murmured, "uh-huh."

Ted stands up and pulls you off the couch, his hand coming to rest on your ass playfully. He pushes you toward the bedroom.

"C'mon, sugar. Let's go make a mess."

---

GOD FROSTING. I don't know why this has been on my mind, maybe because I'm on a diet and trying to cut back on sugar but my god, it's a sexy idea. Also, cooking for Ted would be a dream - and he'd love it so so so much. What a great prompt. Thanks, friend!

[moss-sprout]

[keeps-ache]

i've gotta stop cooing at everything lol

[miniimight]

3AM sukuna underestimated just how much sleep he'd lose after having a kid (dad!sukuna x fem!reader)

the soft pitter patter of your baby's feet was enough to alert his senses. he didn't move—didn't even open his eyes—but his ears were tuned to the sound of your daughter's heavy breathing and the occasional babble.

he could hear her fiddle with the drawer handles, a soft rumble causing her to hum as she pulled the drawer out. a thud meant she bumped into it as she drew closer, messing around with the paper and cords inside.

he peeked one eye open. you were fast asleep beside him, and he was inclined to keep it that way. he didn't like to see his woman exhausted and seconds away from falling flat on her face because his little girl was, apparently, nocturnal.

"mama." she huffed as she finally turned her attention to the bed, fussing as she attempted to climb up.

he sighed. that was his cue.

he groaned as he rolled over, peering over your resting body at his daughter. she paused for a second, staring up at him with those shiny eyes that reminded him so much of you.

he raised an eyebrow.

she ignored his judgement and bounced in place, stretching her arms out to be picked up. "mama."

"mama's sleeping." he grumbled.

oh. oh, no. she didn't like that. she pouted, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. her fingers curled into tiny fists and sukuna's lips twitched upwards in amusement. how adorable.

"mama." she said more adamantly.

he glared right back. "if you're coming back up here, you're gonna go to sleep."

whether she understood or not, she kept fussing to be picked up. he rolled his eyes and scooped her into his arms, rolling onto his back. baby was on his chest, leaning up so that she was sitting upright.

sukuna held onto her back, in case she toppled over and fell over like the bobblehead she was. "lie down."

"no." she chirped, looking out the window at the moon against the midnight blue.

"sleep."

"no."

he scrunched up his face. his life was much easier before she learned that word.

growing bored of the night sky, your baby rolled off sukuna's chest, scooting her way through the mess of sheets over to you. she glanced back at him as if to see if he was watching.

he gave her a look, observing her carefully. "don't you wake her up," he warned, propping his head up by his elbow.

her round eyes showed no trace of acknowledgment before she turned back to face you. there was a pause before her hand lifted in the air.

"okay." he sighed, catching the tiny hand in his before she slapped you awake. "come on."

she whined, writhing in his grip as he pulled her off the bed by the leg, dangling her in front of his face. "you really are little menace, aren't you?" he scoffed, flipping her over and holding her just like you taught him to.

she just babbled as her finger pulled at her mouth, the other hand resting on his shoulder.

he dragged his feet out the bedroom, into the kitchen. "what is it that you want, hm?" he rifled through the cupboards and pantry tiredly. "want a cookie?"

she squealed happily and pat his shoulder, a good enough answer for him to pull the package out. he dropped onto the couch, handing her one.

she nibbled on it, the chocolate staining her hands and mouth. he watched her fondly. to think he'd have a child of his own still confused him to this day. for all his wrongs, he must have done something right.

"wan' one?" she slurred, holding up the half-spit cookie to him.

"...no." he said plainly, though he did pick up a new cookie and took a bite out of it. might as well, he thought.

his eyes drooped until he felt his cookie being snatched out of his hand, replaced by the spitty cookie with most of its icing dug off.

"daddy take that one." she giggled, feasting upon her new cookie.

sukuna... what could he do? he ate that thing.

when you woke up the morning after, you just shook your head at the sight—your daughter resting on your husband's chest, cookie crumbs and chocolate smears all over the both of them. fast asleep. sugar coma.

you saved that picture for later <3

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[pseudowho]

Stoic

When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.

Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant

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

'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.

"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.

A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"

"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"

"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"

"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"

Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.

Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.

"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."

Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.

"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"

"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"

"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"

"--why are we doing this--"

"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"

Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"

"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"

Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"

"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"

Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.

"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"

The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.

"...what did I miss?"

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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀

[sentient-stove]

"Oh my god he’s dead- we killed a vigilante, OHMYGODOHMYGOD—" A hysterical voice screeched out, decidedly feminine and loud enough that the comn line picked it up.

"He broke in here for no reason first! We have probable cause as to why you brained him with our wok!" The second interjected, calmer than the first, but there was still a line of tension, like they were uncertain about what they were saying.

"Oh my god, oh god we’re literally so dead Batman’s literally going to murder me and you and us and—"

"We're already mostly dead, he can't kill us. Although I thought he had a no killing rule anyways, so maybe we’re safe? Ancients, that is a lot of blood. You think we should call an ambulance?" Static filtered through the comn line before stabilizing again and wow. The residents of the apartment were really just having a full conversation over an unconscious Nightwing- in earshot of a microphone recording every word- like this was a normal occurrence. Maybe it was a normal Friday night for them, Barbara couldn't exactly judge.

"I'm not calling an ambulance, they might arrest him. Hell, they're probably gonna arrest us! Danny, we're fucking unresgistered metas in Gotham, I’m a clone—"

"—Not metas and I won’t let anyone arrest you—"

"—It's the same thing to the government at the end of the day. You're right though. I think I hit him too hard, we're going to lose the deposit with the amount of blood getting everywhere. Head wounds bleed a lot right? Maybe he's not dead."

"He's not dead, we'd know if he was."

"Oh. Right. Man. That is a lot of blood, our IKEA rug is ruined. I liked that rug, you think we could ask him to buy a new one when he wakes up or is he on the normal vigilante salary of nothing?"

“Mhm. I'll go get the med kit, you handcuff him to the table so he doesn't jump us when he wakes up. Keep the mask on- I don’t want to piss off whatever buddies he’s got listening in.”