#or the time he lifted the blanket to look at his legs and muttered something about a babysitter and questioning what is that???

[heartysworld]

Love, Lando, Milo // LN4

Lando Norris x Female Reader

Where Milo turns out to be more supportive than his dad

W. C: 2k

A/N: Milo has become a constant in my Lando fics, but since I don't see anyone complaining, I will keep on including him

MASTERLIST

The night was still. The kind of stillness that should be soothing, but instead, it felt heavy and uncomfortable. You shifted again, trying to find a position that didn’t make your back scream in protest. It was nearly impossible. Every time you thought you had it, your bladder demanded attention or a new wave of nausea rolled through you.

You tried to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to disturb Lando more than you already had. His breathing was steady and deep beside you, the sound normally a source of comfort. But tonight, it only highlighted how restless you were. You turned again, hoping to find that elusive comfortable spot, but it was no use.

Around 3 AM, you got up for what felt like the fifth time. You shuffled to the bathroom, your swollen feet aching with every step. After relieving yourself, you wandered into the kitchen, craving something to eat. Anything to soothe your grumbling stomach and kicking baby. You grabbed a banana and slowly made your way back to bed, hoping this time you wouldn’t disturb Lando.

But as you slipped back under the covers, Lando stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Again?” he mumbled, his voice tinged with irritation.

“Yes, again,” you snapped back, unable to contain your frustration anymore. For the past few days, Lando's been complaining about your midnight adventures around the house as his sleep schedule struggled as much as you did if not even more. At first, you didn't say anything, apologizing and closing your eyes in an attempt to fall asleep. However, as the days passed you felt like your were getting lonelier by the hour and evem more responsible for your fiancé's discontent with the situation in your own home, the sleepless night and constant tossing and turning.

“I’m pregnant, Lando. It’s not like I’m enjoying this.”

“Well, I’m not getting any sleep either,” he retorted. “I need to be in top shape during the season. This lack of sleep isn’t helping. No wonder I haven't been able to get anything done for the past week. It's useless.”

His words felt like a slap in the face. Tears welled up in your eyes before you could stop them. You felt overwhelmed, emotional, and incredibly vulnerable.

“You think I don’t know that?” You choked out. “You think I want to be up all night? I can’t help it! Im supposed to enjoy my pregnancy and relax as much as possible before our baby arrives! In reality, I'm feeling guilty and responsible for both mine and your inability to rest well! ”

Milo, sensing the tension and seeing your tears, started barking at Lando, tugging on the leg of his sweatpants as if to say, “You upset mom! Fix it!”

“Great, now I’ve upset the dog too,” Lando muttered, but his anger was already dissipating, replaced by guilt. He looked at you, seeing the tears streaming down your face, and his heart broke a little.

You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You grabbed a blanket and headed to the spare bedroom, which was soon to be the baby's room. You moved as quickly as possible, your belly preventing you from moving with your usual pace. The room was quiet, and the rocking chair near one of the windows looked inviting. You opened the window next to you to let some fresh air inside the room. You settled into the fluffy cushions on the chair, pulling the blanket around you. Seconds later, Milo trotted into the room after you. He lifted himself onto his back legs, his front paws supporting his weight against the upholstery of the chair.

You lifted the little man onto your lap, smiling as he snuggled against your belly as if he knew you needed comfort.

''There hasn't been a day during which I've regretted your arrival into our lives, my tiny love." You said as you caressed the soft fur between his floppy ears. Milo's cold nose occasionally bumped against the palm of your hand as he sniffed around.

The tears flowed freely down the cold surface of your face, silent and hot in contrast. You stroked Milo's fur, the rhythmic motion helping to calm you down. The rocking chair creaked softly as you rocked back and forth. The movement seemed to help soothe your loud inner voice that kept producing negative thoughts one after another.

Some time passed, and you weren't sure how long. The door creaked open, and you saw Lando standing there, his expression mixed with regret and sadness.

“Baby, ” he whispered, stepping into the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just…I'm stressed. But that’s no excuse.”

You looked up at him, the tears still glistening in your eyes. “I’m trying, Lando. This isn’t easy for me either.”

He knelt beside the chair, taking your hand in his. “I know, love. I know. I’m an idiot. I should be more understanding. Please come back to bed. You need your sleep. We'll solve this in the morning, okay?”

You nodded, wiping your tears. “Just… don’t forget we’re in this together, okay?”

He leaned in and kissed you, soft and gentle, his lips lingering on yours. “I promise. Come back to bed? We can figure this out together.”

You stood up slowly, Milo jumping down to the floor. Lando wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you back to your bedroom. The bed felt warm and inviting, and as you settled back in, Lando pulled you close as much as your protruding belly allowed him.

Milo jumped onto the bed, curling up at your feet where he usually spent his nights. Lando kissed your forehead, his hand resting on your growing belly.

“Goodnight, baby. I love you” he whispered.

“Goodnight,love you too.” You replied, feeling his warmth and love surrounding you as sleepiness began to take over your tired body.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You woke up feeling a bit more rested, your body still aching, but your heart felt a little lighter.

Lando was already awake, propped up on one elbow, watching you with a soft smile. “Good morning,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Morning,” you replied, smiling back. Milo stretched out beside you, having moved up on the bed during the night , now wagging his tail lazily.

“How are you feeling?” Lando asked, concern etched in his eyes.

“Tired, but better,” you admitted. “Thank you for coming to get me last night.”

“I’ll always come for you.” He said, his voice full of sincerity. “We’ll get through this together.”

You spent the morning in bed, talking and laughing, enjoying the calm before the chaos of the day. Milo provided endless entertainment, his antics making you both laugh.

That evening, after a long day of preparing the nursery and spending quality time together, you were exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hit the soft surface of the pillow. Lando stayed up a little longer as his mind kept wandering.

He looked over at you, your face serene in sleep, and his heart swelled with love. He gently placed his hand on your belly, feeling the slight movements of your growing baby.

“Hey, little one,” he whispered softly, not wanting to wake you. “I know I need to be better for your mom. She’s doing so much already, and I need to support her more. She needs her sleep, and I shouldn’t have been so harsh.”

Milo tilted his head, watching Lando with curious eyes before settling back down. Lando chuckled softly, patting Milo’s head.

“We’re a team,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “Your mom, Milo, and me. We’re going to be a great team, and we’ll always be here for you. I promise to be better.”

He leaned in and kissed your belly, then your forehead, before settling down beside you. Milo snuggled up at your feet, the three of you finally finding a moment of peace.

As you slept, you felt Lando’s hand still resting on your belly, his presence a comforting anchor. The journey ahead might be filled with challenges, but with Lando’s love and support, you felt ready to take on the journey of being a parent.

MASTERLIST

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[charnelhouse]

no promises

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader (Red Fox) Wordcount: 2.6k Warnings: rough smut. size difference. infected wounds. hangovers. sex on a cot. Summary: The first time. A/N: for all you babes, who been asking for their first sexi time Simon 'Ghost' Riley Masterlist

Ghost is wounded.

It’s not grave. It’s not critical, but it’s a bitch. The kind of pain where, even for him, tears prick his eyes and pressure grows fat behind his nose. 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck….”

He sits up and the shifting of his weight irritates the poorly stitched slit along his ribs. It’s swollen with infection, the skin puffy and screaming red last he checked. It reminds him of a howling infant. He thinks of howling himself, but the desire to cry out sits firmly at the center of his esophagus. He swallows it before gingerly lifting his shirt. He can’t see it at this angle, but it feels wet.

He lightly touches his side and the pain is excruciating. He chokes. 

“Ghost?”

Red steps through the doorway, the shadows collecting at her edges. The rest of the safehouse is silent and asleep aside from Gaz on watch.

“It’s nothin’,” he assures her before accidentally touching the stitches and jerking again, hissing in agony. Wordlessly, she makes her way toward him on bare feet. They’re pretty, but everything about her is pretty. In fact, the thought of her looking at his purple, pus-filled injury makes him nervous. “Red, it’s not-

“Hush,” she chastises, knocking his hand away and turning on the light. She’s clinical about it. Shirt up. She leans in and the stench wafting from his bandages is enough to curl wallpaper. It smells like a corpse and Simon knows the exact perfume of rot. He thinks of Roba - it screeches through his mind before he banishes it to the lockbox in the furthest corner of his head. 

“Smells like it’s infected,” he says to fill the unbearable silence. 

“Ya think?” The corner of her plush mouth twitches as she tugs his shirt higher. 

Her fingers are cold against his burning hot skin and he shudders.

“Did that hurt?”

“Yes,” he lies.

“I’m sorry,” Her gaze flickers up to meet his. “It’s more than infected, Simon. We need to get you to a medic like yesterday.”

“I’ll survive.”

“Not if it infects your blood, baby.”

He goes rigid as does she. Her eyes are round and expression aghast and he realizes that she had just said what he'd thought she said. He didn’t mishear her. Christ - he gets fucking hard at the pet name and he has to wrestle the blankets over his lap.

She bites her lip. “Um,” she slowly draws his shirt back down. “I meant to say that.”

“Did you?”

“100%.”

“I believe you.”

She shakes her head, her lashes fluttering against her cheek. She looks embarrassed and it surprises him. She isn’t one to trip up or make mistakes that cost her that unflinching coolness. It’s something Soap chases, perhaps something that he already thinks he’s mastered. Soap thinks he's a helluva lot smarter than he is.

Ghost finds Red disarming, an enigma. She can go from perfectly composed to a siren-fury in the space of a second. She can be cold - an ice queen as many others have called her. But with 141, she's anything but. Despite the violence in her eyes, she has a sweetness that she reserves for them.

Her hand on his skin, her quiet voice tinged with concern as she hovered in the doorway: Ghost?

Baby.

“I didn’t mind it,” he says suddenly.

“Mind what?”

“What you called me.”

She smiles with all of her teeth before huffing softly. She leans closer and he knows he will deny her nothing. She slips her fingers against his neck, trails them down to the hard muscle of his chest. “There are a lot of things I’d like to call you,” she confesses before kissing his clothed cheek and calling Gaz for EVAC. 

***

A month later and he’s next to her on a small, yellowing cot. He takes the floor, his back glued to the wall and legs spread out. She’s crumpled on the thin mattress, deathly hungover, completely ill. She twists onto her side to stare at him. 

“I fucked up.”

“I warned yah about that homemade shit.”

“Alejandro said-

“He didn’t know what he was talking about. He’s been hugging a toilet since last night. Soap hasn’t even left the couch, claiming he’s gone blind.”

She sniffles.

“Are you crying?” Granted, he’s a little hungover too, but still…the girl had been shot before. 

“It hurts, Simon,” she whines. “I honestly feel like I’ve been stabbed between the eyes.” 

He hates when she calls him by his name. It sounds too lovely. It sounds like something good.

He wordlessly hands her another cold glass of water, which she takes gratefully. She drinks too fast and most of it lands on her shirt, turning the white fabric transparent. Bleedin’ Christ. He can see her nipples. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He doesn’t know why he feels like he has to hover over her like a mother hen. She got so drunk, he was worried she’d hurt herself or wander and - 

Well - he fuckin’ likes her. He wants her to be safe. 

She readjusts onto the mattress, legs kicking out at the threadbare sheet. She’s wearing flannel shorts and her legs are smooth and shiny underneath the wane light. After a moment, she asks, “Would you - shit - uh would you lie on here with me?”

At first, he doesn’t think he’s heard her right. He scrapes his hand over his face before turning to regard her fully. “Come again?”

“It would help,” she explains. “It would really help.”

She doesn’t ask the same question. She doesn’t repeat the desire to have him get in her bed and he realizes she’s left the ball in his court. He can pretend like he didn’t hear her initial question and they can continue on like before or - 

To his own surprise, he stands  and awkwardly fits his enormous mass into the bed. He can’t not touch her due to the narrowness of the space, but she seems to love it.  She throws her arms around him, kicks one leg out, tangling it with his thigh. He grunts and he can feel her cheek against his heart. He can smell her hair. 

“You’re like an octopus,” he accuses. 

“Yes,” she replies simply before snuggling her head into his chest. She’s burrowing, pressing herself into him. More. More. Go deep. 

“Is it better?”

“So much.”

He aches for her. That was it. Plain and direct. He ached. 

He throbbed.

He pulses with the same repetitive thump of his organs, the circulating system of his veins. The continuous reminder that he wanted Red in a way that consumed him.

I want her to consume me.

He’s far too big for her and still he imagines her being able to swallow him whole even if he throws her down and claims her.

He’s hard between his legs and he prays she’s asleep. She’s rising and falling with his chest, slipping into the gentle pace like lapping water. 

But then he feels it, she shifts slightly and skates her hand down his belly before she brushes it over his crotch.

It could be a mistake.

She does it again and he twitches. He rumbles.

Silently, he draws his arm back and begins to stroke the nape of her neck, the bare skin of her shoulders. She’s silky and feverish and he can imagine just how hot she is between her legs. 

Wet. 

“It would help,” she whispers and it’s all the consent he needs.

***

It’s terribly awkward at first. They’re both clumsy, both not feeling their best due to last night’s party. He moves on top of her, arm braced above her head, hand clutching the metal frame of the cot. He wedges himself between her spread thighs. 

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.”

He rocks against her, hips grinding down so that the bulge of his cock drags against her clothed cunt. She sighs, arching into him. Her nipples tight and pinched against the fabric of her shirt.

“What if I want to kiss you?” she asks in such a timid voice that it stops him. He studies her for a moment before quickly standing up, locking the door and flicking out the light. He yanks the mask off, breathes deep. It’s freeing. The cool air brushing his skin, the slope of his nose and sensitive mouth and he’s already back on the cot. He’s on top of her and she immediately fists his sweat-damp hair. It’s mussed and unshowered and she grins against his lips.

“I can feel you,” she says, dazed and awed as he rucks her shorts and underwear off her legs. In the gloom, he can make out the shadow of her pussy. He touches it, allows his finger to linger against the warm, soaked slit. He pets at her and she moans. She tries to curl into herself, but he restrains her, pinning her hip and thigh to the sheets. 

“You’re fuckin’ gorgeous,” he admits and this is just sex. It’s just about feeling better.

“You can’t see me,” she argues. 

“I can see you.” He lowers his face to her cunt and tastes her. She gasps. “Got eyes like a bat, you know?” He licks her again, savoring the salt of her flesh, the secret part of her. He eats her until she shakes, until the walls of her womb clamp down on his fingers and her clit throbs against his tongue. He does it again until she has to kick him away with her heels. He sits back on his haunches, his hand lifting to circle her dainty ankle. He glances down to study her pretty little foot against his broad chest. “You’re like a doll.” His Duchess. 

“C’mere,” she begs, arms out and as he sinks into them, she wraps them snugly around his shoulders. He turns his head until his lips match up with hers and then they kiss for real. The first true kiss they’ve had aside from the one on his mask last December. He sucks her lower lip between his teeth, nibbles until she inhales sharply. He takes advantage of her parted mouth to thrust his tongue against her own, the slick, warm muscle lazily strokes and strokes until he’s rutting between her spread thighs because it’s driving him into a red-haze.

“Want me to taste you?” she whispers as she holds his face between her hands. Her thumb draws a circle over his cheekbone, digs into the scar that runs underneath it, taking advantage of his nakedness.

“‘Nother time, pet,” he replies as he undoes the button of his jeans. She helps him kick them off and when he finally stands, her eyes widen comically. Her hand falls against her chest, flutters like a bird. 

“Oh,” she says. “Oh - um - Oh.”

He glances down to where his cock has curved up against his belly. He’s rock-hard, nearly ready to blow. Red and twitching. He knows she’s soaked. He’s made sure of that. He’s used three of his fingers on her to get her ready, but she still looks nervous. 

“We don’t have to,” he assures her quickly. “We can just not-”

“No!” she protests, almost hissing. “I want to - I do. There are condoms.” She gestures vaguely to a desk in the corner. “In there…maybe.” 

He gets them and returns to her, her fave still twisted into something weary. “Do - do you think those will fit you?”

He laughs. “Yeah, kid. They’ll fit.”

She lies back down, her legs splayed open and, even in the dark, she is obscenely beautiful. To him. Objectively. To anyone. He’s heard the men say it. He’s felt it. He’s memorized her face and those half-parted lips and used the image to jack off in the shower like a school boy and - 

“Simon,” she says, an edge of impatience scraping her teeth. “Get inside me.”

He rips the wrapper with his teeth and slips it on. He climbs on top of her and he intends to be careful, treat her like something fragile. He’s so big that her legs have trouble wrapping around his waist. His shoulders so wide that she has to throw her arms out to encircle them.

He grips himself as he slides the tip of his cock against her slick heat. She breathes deeply, wiggles her hips and then he begins to press into her. “Hold onto me,” he instructs and she does, nails digging into the muscles of his shoulders as he sinks to the hilt inch by inch. He can feel himself battering against her womb. Her cunt sucks him in with a near-violence. She grunts, but doesn’t cry or whimper. He can make out her eyes in the dark and they’re trained on his. Determined - as if she’s fired up to handle a drill.

“Good girl,” he praises when his hips make contact with hers. His groin is nestled against her mound, her tits crushed against his chest. He noses at her cheek before brushing his lips over hers. “Can I move?”

“If you don’t,” she sighs. “I’ll fuck you up.”

He laughs before drawing his hips back and driving forward. That particular move earns a yelp from her and then he takes control of the dance. He fucks her in deep, powerful strokes, circling and angling down to hit that fleshy, soft patch buried too far for his fingers to reach. She burrows her face into his chest as she clings to him. The room echoes with the slap of flesh, the wet, dirt noises of his cock repeatedly sliding to the hilt.

“Jesus,” she whimpers as he grips her under the knees and forces them against her breasts. He bends her in half as he continues to thrust, snapping into her with a relentless, determined hunger. The bed creaks, the coils screeching and he’s certain it might break beneath them. It wouldn’t stop him. Not at all. 

“Feel so good,” he marvels as he clasps her cheek in his palm, bends his head and plunges his tongue into her mouth. He kisses her like he’s fucking her and when that’s too much, he flips her onto her stomach. 

Her fingers fist the sheets and he grabs the pillow on the floor and shoves it under her hips. From behind, he spreads her open, spits against her bruised, puffy cunt before sinking to the base. He braces his arm above her head, leverages his weight so that he doesn’t put all of it onto her shuddering form. 

“You got this, kid,” he murmurs as he sucks a mark into her neck. He delivers a sharp thrust that sends the tip of his cock hammering against her womb. It knocks her with the force of a punch and she clamps down around him, rocking back against him as she wheezes: please please please -

“Touch that pretty cunt for me, yeah?” he orders, his own voice broken on a husk. His length drags through her, sears hot and molten, stretching her in two pieces. She’s so tight, but he can feel himself open her up, mark her for himself. She slips her hand beneath her and her lower muscles bear down, constrict like a knot around the base of his dick. “Fuck - fuck - just like that, duchess. Get yourself all wet for me.”

She lifts herself, snatches his forearm and bites down as he continues to fuck her. He groans, hips stuttering against her ass, but the pain is welcome. It centers him, focuses his pleasure as it expands through his limbs. She’s covered in a thin film of sweat, her hair sticking to her back, caught in his hand. Every rut of his cock makes her ass jiggle and he thinks he’s buried so deep that he’ll never be the same. There will be no one else after this and he, to his horror, admits it:

“Fuckin’ hell, Red,” he growls into her ear as she climaxes a third time that night. “You’re so good. No one else like you.”

She’s half-mad. She’s gone and he doesn’t think she’s heard him and maybe it’s better that way. This is about feeling good. This is about comfort and relief and as he reaches his own end, his orgasm ripples through him. It unfurls through his torso, the muscles of his thighs and groin and everything pulls tight and that white scar tissue over his ribs from his infected wound begins to throb, but in a damn fine way and oh - he feels it. He really feels it.  

Her fingers tangle through his, winding like creeping myrtle. He crushes her hand against the metal railing, he holds it down and flat until the bones creak.

"Ghost," she whimpers, and he realizes he's embedded inside her, taken root, left his seed.

He thinks of all the promises he's given her the last few years:

We're getting out of this.

Focus on me, Red. We're good. We've already won.

It's just a scratch. You're fine. I've got yah.

He wants to make another, it scratches his tongue, stings like a burr. He chokes on that unspoken promise until it tumbles down his throat and allows him to pull away.

[mwahmimi]

Bestfriend Reader in a skirt casually sitting on eddies lap and when she gets up/or maybe eddie realizes she left a wet patch on his leg

Bestfriend!Eddie gets cockwarmed. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb.

(I got so carried away here!! Thank you for this prompt<3)

Eddie’s trailer wasn’t the most spacious of places, but when he offered to have movie night there rather than the Harrington mansion, you all politely agreed.

That’s how you got in this situation. Robin and Vickie were nestled up under a blanket on the floor surrounded by pillows, they seriously looked like something from a cheesy teen movie, it was such an adorable sight. Nancy and Jonathan sat side by side on the couch, his head leaning on her left shoulder and her fingers combing through his fringe, muttering something about him needing a hair cut. Steve was sat to the right of you cradling a pillow. He looked sweet all cuddled into it, his nose wrinkled up as his face pushes into the pillow, and you, were sat on Eddie’s lap.

It wasn’t an unusual thing for you to be physically affectionate with Eddie, you’d known each other since you were three. He’d showered and taken baths with you when you were kids when the Munson’s water supply was cut off from tough times with money and your mom always let them use your bath tub and shower when they needed it. He’d seen you grow from a little toddler into what you are today, 5’5 and 21 years old. He’d seen all of your style experiments to try and figure out who you were, but you were always so jealous of Eddie. He knew who he was from a young age. I mean he forced you to listen to KISS and Metallica when you were pre-teens. He knew what he wanted and what he liked, you admired that. You admired him.

Your back facing his chest, heat radiating under the blanket he’d hauled over the pair of you. You didn’t bat an eyelid when his hand snuck under your shirt, drawing little patterns with his finger tips on your skin. Tracing your spine and writing curse words with his nails, it tickled. It was soft and oh so soothing. He walked his fingers up your back, pretending as if his pointer and middle fingers were a persons legs. Getting closer and closer to the back of your neck and your head tilted back with a jolt. You turn around to face him, a look of playful annoyance plastered over your face but ruined with a smile when you were met with Eddie’s devious smirk.

He pouts, silently saying how he’ll make it up to you. He didn’t say that with words, but you knew. You and Eddie could almost read each other’s minds, it was a little scary. His fingers swoop over your back again, but this time slower and gentler. It was a barely there touch. His fingers felt featherlight as they grazed up and down your back, with both hands added now. Lifting your hand to cover your smile, a feeling of relaxation washed over you. Whilst whatever movie Robin had chosen seemed interesting, all you could think about and feel, was Eddie.

Before you knew it, you felt your throat let out a groan. A guttural moan, it was quiet and thankfully covered up by the background sound of the movie. But Eddie’s hands didn’t stop, they teased your sides, open palm rubbing up and down them. You squint your eyes shut tightly, but your brain is filled with thoughts. Thoughts of the night when the tension got too much for you, the night Eddie leant in and kissed you. He tasted of weed, you were both as high as a kite but the melody of his playing corroded coffin tape set the scene so well. He rubbed your sides just like this when you were sat on his lap last time. Only last time, he was inside you.

The burning desire in the pit of your stomach ached for more again. Rutting your body slowly across Eddie’s thigh, rolling your hips just like you did on his cock before. The feel of his denim clad thigh harsh against your clothed clit, you hide to bite your lip to hold back a moan. Eddie just felt so good. He definitely knew what you were doing, he began to bounce you on his thigh, slowly at first but picking up the pace when he felt your hands find their way to his. He rocks you, backwards and forwards, rubbing your clit against him. Pleasure washes over you completely, you’re blissed out. He begins to buck his hips beneath you, feeling his hard cock hit against your ass. You just wished he’d slide your panties aside and let you cock warm here right here, right now. He thrusts against you again, you wonder if he’s leaking in his boxers. You’d do anything to taste his pearlescent beads of cum, so you wriggle your ass in his lap. You get away with it too, pretending like you’re dancing to the music the movie is playing. Teasing him and feeling him grow harder and harder underneath you, letting him thrust against the small of your back.

Until he stops. Turns you to face him by his finger and thumb grasping your chin, “Not here, behave and you can have a special treat later.” He teases, not missing your eyes widening and the blush spread across your face at his words. After he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, you turn back and try to focus on the movie but your mind is elsewhere. It’s so fucking tedious, even if you weren’t distracted you’d find this movie boring, you make a mental note to joke about the plot holes of this film with Steve later, he definitely feels the same about Robin’s movie choices because he is in fact snoring into the pillow.

It all feels never ending, you’re so turned on and there’s nothing you can do but sit and wait, feeling Eddie’s cock deflate and turn soft underneath you. But after 40 excruciatingly long minutes when all you can feel is the throbbing between your thighs and the uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties, cold and wet against your pussy, the movie finishes.

The party clear up their mess and the guests leave, Nancy and Jonathan drive Steve home. Robin and Vickie walk back to Vickie’s parent’s house, a “slumber party” they had told them. Leaving you and Eddie, alone. You stand up for the first time in hours, stretching your arms above your head. Eddie’s arms clasp around your middle, and he pulls you back onto the couch, pinning your arms to the cushion.

Pointing at the now dampened and discoloured material of his jeans, “look at that. You soaked me through, princess. Your pussy drenched my thigh, in front of all of our friends. So dirty.” He cooed, his voice breathy and drowning in need. Eddie’s hand lets go of your wrists and begins to palm over his jeans, a tent shape that had been there for a while now. His pants looked tight, like the button was about to pop off and his cock spring out. “Had me so fucking hard for so long, now it’s time for your treat huh?”

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. SWIM

So hard to ignore ya, keep your body open, swim

ARTIST! CHOSO x FEM!READER

sum. your poor roommate was stumped drawing the naked female body. pictures weren’t working and porn definitely didn’t help. so you did the next best thing, you modeled for him.

cw: reader is black (obviously), body image issues, modern au, choso & reader are 19-21, reader’s a little dumb, porn mention, ooc choso (this is my first time writing for him bare with me 🙏🏾), oral sex (f! receiving), overstimulation, soft dom choso, size difference, pet names, praise, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, roommates to lovers, slight possessiveness, pussy drunk choso(?), etc. unedited, please excuse grammar & spelling mistakes.

this was so rushed i’m sorry, but hope you enjoy it <3

The sweet sound of Erykah Badu surrounded the kitchen, soft murmurs of her lyrics traveling from your lips. Your eyes focused on the pan, sliding your spatula under the bacon strips with a soft hum— flipping them soon after. You were dressed in a simple random tshirt — probably your roommate’s — and shorts. So focused on your food, you became a little startled when heavy footsteps headed towards the kitchen, turning to spot Choso entering.

“Morning, Choso.” You spoke in a soft tone, glancing to see the man approaching the fridge, opening it and kneeling to inspect the shelves. He gave a soft morning back, clearly still tired. It was nine in the morning after all, and he typically spent his nights drawing or working. You knew nothing about being a artist, but it seemed stressful. You always felt bad watching his tall form drag into your shared home and to his room— or even the couch if he was tired enough.

“You want some breakfast.”

“No thanks.”

You pulled a sour face, placing the finished pieces of bacons onto a plate, reaching over for the carton of eggs. “You just woke up.. you should at least eat before drawing.” You were always so worried about him, from his sleeping habits to his eating ones; you were surprised the man was still walking on two legs. You stiffened as his large form brushed across you, reaching for a piece of bacon before turning to leave. You shook your head with a small smile, staring after him. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

After breakfast you had settled down on the couch, staring boredly at the random show you had selected. You turned into the soft halloween themed blanket, sighing softly to yourself as you stretched out upon the cushions. Your attention soon drifted away from the show, rather to the man you called your roommate. Breathing softly, you quickly realized something. You hadn’t seen the poor thing in hours.

Rising up from the couch, you slid your feet into your slides, walking towards the back of the house towards the bedrooms. You approached his door, knocking against it for a moment and softly calling his name. When you got no response, you grasped the door handle, turning it open and entering. Your eyes peered over the room; his bed unmade, black blankets and sheets disbelieved, random posters hanging on the walls, while his lanky form was hunched over his desk. You stepped fully inside, eyes widening a little. “Oh!”

His chair switched around, you now able to fully see the porn playing on his computer. To your relief, you hadn’t caught him doing anything scandalous. Instead, he looked quiet bored. You pursed your lips a bit, “Are you… watching porn?”

“Not pleasurably, no.” Choso muttered, clicking his computer to pause the video. He sighed a little, leaning back in his chair. You approached his side, glancing down at his desk to spot the many balled up papers and his opened sketchbook. The man watched as you lifted the book of his desk, you delicately flipping through the pages. Each one was littered with sketches of the female body, little notes accompanying a few. Others completely ruined by dark, harsh scribbles. You hummed a bit, leaning against his desk. “You’re trying to draw a naked woman?”

Choso nodded at your words, rubbing his hands up and down his pants. “I tried photos.. other sketches, and now— this.” He motioned towards the raunchy video on his screen, hands falling back to his lap in another soft sigh. “Nothing is working out.” He seemed a bit annoyed or rather depressed, a thought that saddened you just a tad. From the dates residing on the pages, it was clear he was working on this for a while. And while a few of the sketches looked good, you were sure they weren’t up to his professor’s standards. You placed the sketchbook back down with a little hum, thinking to yourself.

Until, possibly the greatest idea popped into your mind.

You placed your hands on your chest, turning to him with a sweet smile. “I could model for you! I’m sure that’s what you’re missing; something alive and in your face.” You watched as his eyes slowly widened, dipping across your form for a split second before rising back to your face. Choso sat unmoving, quiet as he took in your words. It begun to worry you when a minute had passed and he was still completely silent. You bit the inside of your cheek, hands falling to your sides. “Or… not?”

Choso seemed to finally breathe, blinking as his gaze turned away from you. “It’s uh.. You do realize you’ll be completely naked. In front of me. And I’ll be drawing you..” He spoke softly, slowly; assuring you heard every single word he uttered. He licked his lips hesitantly as you nodded with that same sweet smile. “It could take a while, [Name]. Plus I would be showing my professor this. Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”

You nodded for about the umpteenth time, as if completely unfazed by this. “I don’t mind! You’ve seen me half-naked when I got drunk that one time and threw up all over myself.” You shrugged; smiling a little as you heard him snort softly muttering something like I remember that. Choso looked over his desk once more, looking over his options. Finally after a few moments he nodded, turning back to you. “Okay, sure. You need like.. ten minutes to get ready?”

Your eyes widened at his words, smile faltering for a moment as you brought your hands close. “Oh, oh! You want to draw me now?” The words came out in a soft waver, the situation finally settling into your mind. It seemed easy enough when you spoke about it, but now that it was about to happen? You weren’t so sure it was a smart idea.

Choso nodded at you, “Yeah. I’ve been working on this a while, I want to get it over with..” He spoke, staring down at the manilla colored pages for a moment before his dark eyes fluttered back to your face. “If that’s okay.”

“Of course! Yeah that’s fine. I’ll.. Ill just go get ready!” You forced a smile, turning on your heel and basically racing out of his bedroom into your own. Shutting the door behind you, you felt your heart drop to your ass. You really fucked up this time, you really just had to open your big mouth. Getting naked infront of your roommate? One that you’ve had a very, very small amount of feelings for? You wanted to shoot yourself just to get out of the situation. That would be much easier then saying you changed your mind and watching the poor artist delve back down his hole of stress and anxiety over his art.

You bit your lip, walking infront of your mirror; glancing yourself over. Your fingers curled under his your tshirt, yanking it off your body before moving onto your shorts and panties. Now completely naked you turned, grimacing a bit at prominent stretch marks etched upon your dark mocha skin. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, anxiety trickling down your spine.

What if he didn’t like what he sees? Probably would tell you nevermind, after seeing your body. Oh, you wanted to cry from that thought. Instead, however— you slapped your cheeks, the sting knocking you away from your insecurities. Everything was going to be fine. As nonchalant as Choso was, he wouldn’t comment on your body in a negative light. He simply wasn’t that type of person. So, with a different pep in your step; you approached your closet to grab your black silk robe, pulling it onto your body and securing it at your waist. You waltzed out of your bedroom with a false sense of confidence, approaching his open door and walking in.

Choso’s chair was now turned towards his bed which was now made, a silk blanket tossed across it. He was sitting waiting, sketchbook rested upon his lap as his leg bounced; eyes shifting to you the moment you entered. You gave a nervous smile, walking inside and taking a seat on the bed. “I’ve never modeled for anyone before, I hope I do alright.”

He smiled a bit at you, the tension of the room dissipating the moment he did. “You’re a smart girl, you’ll be fine.” Choso spoke, not noticing the way your eyebrows shot up at his words. Instead of speaking you simply nodded, hands coming to the knot infront of you. You delicately undid the robe, pulling it off your body and placing it off to the side. Once finished you brought your hands to your chest, legs pushed together as you glanced over at the man. Gauging his reaction— slightly disappointed it was unreadable.

“H-How should I pose?”

Choso breathed softly, straightening in his chair as his gaze switched over you. “Is it alright if I touch you?.. It’s easier then explaining.” He didn’t move until you nodded, standing up from his seat and walking towards you. He gently pushed on your shoulder, murmuring for you to lay across his bed. You obeyed, back hitting the soft silky blankets, dark colored braids fanning around your features. Your skin went warm as he gently grabbed your calf, bending your legs to lay your feet against the bed. The artist took a step back for a moment, looking you over once again before nodding to himself. “We can take a few breaks when you get cold or achy.”

“Okay..” You spoke in a sing-song tone, watching as he sat back down. His hands delicately grabbed his sketchbook and pencil, assuring he was at the middle of the manilla page before gliding the lead across it. You breathed softly, laying completely still as not to ruin the image— while also, trying to ignore his gaze. Which wasn’t an easy task. It was calculating, focused completely on your body and nothing more. Sketching you with his eyes and then his fingers, pressing the pencil into the paper. It was intense, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe under it.

Moments of silence passed, his scribbling, soft swears, and brief erasing the only sound. You soon began to relax under his gaze, feeling your anxiety seep away from your body. With how comfortable the blankets were, you could almost fall asleep. Almost.

His soft swears and scribbles kept interrupting you, and eyes blinking open to spot the small frustrated look over taking his features. You frowned a little, tapping your finger against your collarbone and adjusting your hips. “Is something wrong?” You called softly, watching his eyes snap from the page and over to you.

“No its.. it’s fine.”

You pursed your lips, sitting up for a moment and reaching for your robe. “We can take a small break if you’re not.” You grabbed it, pulling it over your body lazily. You stood up from his bed, walking over to stand beside him. On the page were a few sketches of you, some started while others were scribbled out. You hummed a bit, “These look nice.. why didn’t you finish them?”

“It’s..” Choso sighed softly, rising the sketchbook up higher. He seemed to search for the words for a moment, finally looking at you. “I can’t focus.”

“Focus?” You questioned, squinting at the pages with a confused expression. You glanced back at him, giving a nervous smile. “You seem to be focusing just fine, you just have t..” Your words drifted off as the male set his sketchbook off to the side, standing up from his chair. You glanced up at him, sucking in a breath when you noticed how intense his gaze was. Before you couldn’t distinguish it at all, but now? Oh, you knew that emotion all to well— that desire swirling in his eyes. Your breath hitched as he came close, hand reaching towards your own and gently grabbing it. Your grip loosened, the silky black robe falling to the ground before you, revealing your body to him once again. He breathed the moment he laid eyes on your form, hands hovering as if scared to touch you.

“Can’t believe you allowed me to see you like this..” Choso murmured more to himself then you, lips dropping as if in awe— as if he was truly seeing you for the first time. His eyes couldn’t remain on one point, dancing across your form and soaking you in. You felt so hot under your skin, despite the fact he hadn’t laid a finger on you.

“Choso.. Please touch me.” You finally spoke, voice coming out in a small whine. His eyes snapped back to your face, gauging the way your pretty lips formed a pout. That was enough for him, enclosing his arm around you and tugging you into his body, planting his lips against you. The kiss was slowly and calculated, a hand of his rising to gently grab the back of your head; tilting it so he could kiss you how he wished. His tongue prodded your plump lips, slithering into your mouth as he pushed forward. The moment the back of your knees hit the bed he was laying you on it, large form hovering above you; a hand pressed beside your head.

Your hands slid up his covered arms, gripping his shirt as he somehow deepened the kiss, taking your mouth as his own; tongue curling around and sucking your own appendage. Moments continued of the sweet lip locking, pulling away when air was needed. Soft pants entered the room, Choso leaning on his hunches, hands carrying down your body to your thighs, bending your legs and spreading them. You breathed as his eyes traced your form, heat emitting from them.

“I wasted your time, [Name]..”

“Hm?” You blinked in confusion, hands falling from his arms and to the bed, tilting your head up at him. Choso glanced at your face for a moment before he came to lean over you again, sucking kisses into your neck.

“I’m never letting anyone else see you like this. Never. Doesn’t matter if I drew it or not.” The words flew from his mouth in a deep tone, tracing his canines across your skin. His kisses lowered down your body to the valley between your breasts, lowering to your stomach, and finally.. where you needed him most. His strong hands grabbed the underside of your thighs, spreading your legs open for him. Choso breathed heavily at the sight of you, leaning down to kiss your mound. The action caused you to twitch, glancing down at his fluffy buns between your legs.

A soft oh, escaped you the moment his tongue separated your folds, lazily carrying across. The action alone causes your hands to travel to his hair, fingers curling and gripping the moment his lips wrapped around your clit. He was so gentle; carefully sucking, tongue gliding across the sensitive bud as his hands gripped your legs. Choso pressed his face against your wetting sex even more, lapping you up— slowly getting drunk from your taste. The man couldn’t believe you offered to model naked for him, completely bare; across his blankets. And he definitely couldn’t believe his head was between your legs, eating you up as if you were his last meal.

The pleasure trickled across your body, eyes pinched closed as you struggled against closing your legs around his head. The feeling was far too foreign, far too much— you couldn’t think about anything but his tongue and his lips, pulling soft moans out of your body. Your hips rose into his face, smothering him with your pussy; a groan of his vibrating your body. The man pulled back for a moment, gaining his breath back before he was diving back in; tongue circling your clit, making you a mess. Your fingers began to ache from hard you were clenching him, gasping as you felt him rest your legs on his shoulders, hands now falling to your ass to grip you. Pulling you even closer.

His name fell from your lips in a sweet tone, back arched as your eyes were pinched closed from the pleasure. It didn’t take long for your end to build closer and closer, moving your hips along to expert movements of his tongue. The moment the appendage pushed inside you, however, you were lost; crying out as your came all over his face.

Choso gripped you tighter, lapping up your mess, ignoring the soft whines you exhibited from the sensitivity. He finally released you once he was done, pulling back and breathing as he leaned his against your thigh, eyes looking up at you. From the way you were panting; pretty lips parted with a glossy film in your eyes, he had half a mind to go right back between your legs.

Instead he rose over your form, hand grasping your hip as your legs hung loosely on his waist. He smiled at you, leaning down to kiss your chin. “So beautiful…I’ve always thought so. The moment we became roommates.” His words were kind, soft, a distraction to the hand carrying down your body until his two fingers curled inside you, pushing all the way down to his knuckles. He followed as you jumped from the pleasure, watching your hand wrap around his wrist. “Now I get to make you feel good.. get to see you all beautiful under me.” Choso murmured, leaning to kiss you once again. His fingers started a slow pace inside you, pushing against your velvety walls, stretching you open from the thickness of them.

Your legs shook, moaning into his mouth before breaking the kiss to gasp the moment you felt his thumb circle your swollen bud. “Choso..” You spoke sweetly, eyebrows pinched close nails digging into his skin as his thrust grew faster. As amazing as it felt to you; his strong, long appendages pushing you open— you needed more. Your eyes opened, leaning up to brush your lips across his own. “Need you..” You spoke against them, other hand coming to wrap around his neck. To your dismay, the man shook his head at you, continued to scissor his fingers inside you.

“Choso—“

“I’m not going to rush.. I don’t want to hurt you.” Choso spoke against your lips, curling his fingers up to brush across that spongy spot inside you. He smiled at the muffled whine that escaped you, sliding a third finger inside. “Be good.. just wait.” He promised, pressing his finger harsher against your clit, soft rubs turning into fast tight circles. The artist continued this treatment for a while, you feeling another orgasm approaching. Despite how close you were, the careful thrusts of his fingers stopped, pulling them out of you.

Despite missing the warmth, you watched in excitement as the man began to push down his sweats and boxers, breathing softly as his cock came into view. A lighter color than the rest of his body, heavy and long, reaching just below his navel. The tip was flushed a soft red, thick— sure to stretch got completely. The thought alone caused our legs to shake, warm flushed hot in anticipation.

Choso came close, crown of his length gliding across your wet heat; coating himself in your essence. The movement alone had the two of you hissing, his hands tight on your hips as he slowly rocked his own. Once he felt he was lubricated enough, he was using a hand to line up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. The man swallowed as he felt your walls clamp around him, hunching over your body as he breathed. His eyes looked you over, leaning down to gently kiss the pained expression away.

“Takin’ me so well, princess.. I’m almost there.” Choso whispered into your skin, slowly pushing the rest of himself into you— bottoming out. He shuddered as he felt you pulse and throb around him, attempting to keep his hips still, struggling entirely. He closed his eyes, placing his face into your neck, smiling when he felt your hands grip his shirt. Gentle kisses traced your skin, a hand massaging your hip to coax you into relaxing. Moments passed before he was sure you were fine, pulling his hips backs slowly and experimentally. When he pushed in, and you only moaned in pleasure rather than pain; he knew he was fine.

Rising away from your neck, the man pulled his hips back again only pushing back in with more much force then before. He watched in awe at the way your lips fell open, honeyed moans escaping you as he rocked into you. The man wasn’t lying when he said he found you beautiful the moment you became his roommate. He hated himself, actually. Knowing any glance at you and his cock was twitching, imagining what it would be like to be with you.. to touch you, to feel every single part of you. Choso truly hated himself for thinking of his roommate in such a way.

But, he was grateful you returned the sentiment.

The moment he was placing his weight behind his thrusts your soft mind turned into sharp cries, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you held onto him for stability. You were losing yourself, succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you, opening your body to him and only him. “Ch..choso, fuck!” You keened out, legs shaking around his form. You gasped as he came closer, pushing deeper inside to fuck right against your g-spot. Your hand lowered to his stomach, the man catching your wrist to turn it— locking your fingers.

“I know, I know.” The man cooed, soft swears escaping him each time he plunged in and out of your wet entrance. He pressed your hand against the bed, watching the way you attempted to hide your face— causing a disgruntled sound to escape him. Choso released your hand, grabbing your throat gently to turn you to face him. He grinned down at your wide eyes, “Keep your eyes right here, focus on me [Name].” The artist’s words came out soft, a complete contrast to the way he was bullying your insides. Even so, you obeyed; staring up at him even as your eyes grew blurry from the pleasure filled tears that collected in your vision.

You felt a familiar pressure in your stomach, legs wrapping around his waist tightly as your moans became shaky. In the midst of your babbles of his name and swears, you informed him you were close, causing the man to chuckle softly. “Hold it.”

“Choso..” His name came out in a whiney drag, tears trailing down your cheeks to which he kissed away. Again, a completely sweet contrast to the way he was fucking you.

“I—I can’t.”

“You can.” Choso confirmed softly, angling his hips so he brushed against your swollen nub with each thrust. “I know you can.. be good and wait for me, beautiful.” He breathed, slamming into your before his words could even escape. Though you whined again, you quickly listened, holding back your orgasm— which much trouble given the way he didn’t let up with his thrusts.

Moments of torture passed, your mind lost to the pleasure but still holding on just a bit. Choso was close now, thrusts desperate and uncoordinated as his groans turned guttural, face falling into your neck. Just when you thought you would burst he rasped into your ear, “Make me a mess, princess.”

You listened instantly, creaming all over his length, walls clenching tightly around him. Choso stuttered, plunging himself deeply before releasing inside you, filling you to the brim; shaking as you milked him. Your mixed pants entered the room, his hips stilling as he simply laid on top of you. Your arms wrapped around him, breathing him in with an exhausted smile.

“Are you really not gonna use my model?”

You whined a bit as he rolled his hips, grasping your leg and hitching it close to him. Choso pulled back to glance at you, thumb caressing the stretch marks on your skin.

“You’re all mine. No one else is allowed to see.”

[bagofshinyrocks]

Matchy Matchy!

Prompt: For the Twelve Days of Christmas, you get Simon and yourself some matching presents. [Requested by @ertepla]

Featuring: Simon Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: profanity, slightly suggestive at the end

“How many presents do you get on the Twelfth Day of Christmas?”

“Twelve.”

“Nope.”

Simon fixed you with a withering look. He was elbow deep in a bubbly sink, with a smiley-face sponge in one hand, and the breakfast plates in the other. Not his scariest moment.

“What do you mean no?” He started muttering the words to the final stanza. “ ‘On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, twelve drummers drumming.’ Yeah, twelve.”

You put down the clean dish and rag. “Bubba, twelve drummers drumming, and… eleven pipers piping and all the others.”

Simon blinked. “Goddamnit.” The sponge splashed into the suds. “Is that what the song was sayin’ the whole damn time?”

You nodded and cupped his face in your hands.

“That’s so many fucking presents.”

“Seventy-eight on the last day. And a total of three hundred and sixty-four presents over the twelve days.”

His hands settled on your hips and tugged you closer. A loving, warm kiss. A quick swipe of his tongue against your lips. Then pulled away and settled his forehead against yours.

“Lovie, you are my everything. I love you so fuckin’ much. But, I’m not getting you more than three hundred gifts.”

You laugh and pulled him back for another kiss.

“Sweetie,” a kiss to his nose, both of his cheeks, and then his chin. “It’s just trivia. Something you can trick your buddies with tomorrow.”

He hummed, then smiled. “I’ll start with Johnny.”

“Poor Johnny.”

You would have liked for Simon to have a Christmas break and spend the season with you, but alas, that was not the case. He was deployed December 10th, and was supposed to be back a month and a half later.

He was very upset about it. You were disappointed, but he was straight pissed. 

One hand settled in your jean pocket as he requested you walk with him as far as a civilian could go. Puppy dog eyes when saying goodbye. Lifting his balaclava just enough to kiss you goodbye. Then fucking glowering at everyone else on base.

Just because he wouldn’t get home till the middle of January didn’t mean you couldn’t celebrate Christmas. You would just do it a little later.

In Hallmark movie-fashion, Simon was permitted to go home on December 23rd. Likely from being such a royal pain in everyone’s asses.

So one day early, a big man was creeping through your house. Dropping his gear and uniform on his path from the front door to the bedroom, like a strip tease. That one of you would trip over and shatter your toes on.

According to Simon, you were snoring when he came in. You didn’t stir when he started the shower or when he rifled through the closet to find one pair of his sleep clothes that you hadn’t commandeered. His favorite hoodie had been placed on the biggest pillow, and you had drooled a decent puddle into it.

You finally woke up when he leaned up on you and wrapped himself around you like a weighted blanket.

“Happy Christmas, lovie.”

Incoherent grumble, then a little flail.

“It’s me, lovie. It’s your Simon.”

Less flailing, and instead you wiggled around till you were on your back and Simon’s head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against your cheek and neck.

“A good surprise, baby?”

A sleepy smile he more felt and heard than saw.

“Very good surprise, Si. I’m glad you’re here.”

One hand scratched his shower-damp scalp and the other scratched his back. Your hands were cold, but his back was a personal hand heater, and he was long since accustomed to the horrible ice-blocks you called your hands and feet.

“Go back to sleep, lovie. I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

A sleepy hum. Your leg propped up and then flung itself over his legs. No sneaking off for him, not that he would be awake much longer. Or that, in the dark of the apartment, he had seen the pile of presents under the tree all addressed to him.

Instead of small children jumping on the bed to wake you up for presents (a day early), the cat crawled out of her special blankie on Simon’s side of the bed and decided it was time for breakfast. 

The weakest link was home early, so she went straight to Simon. Standing on his back and sniffing him. Then smacking his head until he woke up.

The doormat untangled himself and tucked you back in. The victor leaped off the bed and pranced with her tail up like a flag to her food bowl. Simon was the moron who taught her that breakfast always came at 7AM, so he had to feed her when he was home. When it was just you, the meanest and worst parent, you fed her whenever you decided to wake up. But you also let her sleep in the bed, making a nest out of her special blankie and keeping her warm, whereas he would grab her around the middle and toss.

After feeding the cat, he started piling up his gear out of the walkway. And that’s when he saw the pile of presents.

Like twenty of them. With an array of wrapping papers and bags.

He tiptoed over and knelt in front of them, counting and checking the names. Half of them were for him, and each of his had a matching gift of the same size and wrap for you. According to the tags, all but one of his presents were from you, and all the rest were from the cat.

The cat then stepped on one of the presents, crinkling it loudly and thinking about clawing it. A quick movement of his arm and he had her by the middle and yoinked her into his chest. She looked around in bafflement and then meowed in protest.

Footsteps from the bedroom and you barked a “hey”.

Simon turned with a guilty face.

“Oh, not you baby,” you said, rubbing your face. “I thought the cat was getting into the presents again. I’ve already had to re-wrap things thanks to her Royal Snoopiness and her evil toesies.”

“Evil?” he kissed the cat on the head. “She’s a bomb-sniffing cat.”

“There are no bombs, Simon.” You flopped onto the couch and arranged the pillows to make another nest. “Just gifts. She wants her presents but she doesn’t get them until Christmas morning.”

Simon sat next to your legs and put the cat on your chest. Then leaned in real close and kissed you over her little head.

“Do I have to wait until I get back in January?”

You sat up and pulled him close, the cat leaping off and jumping to the top of her apartment complex. Your hands crept under the hem of his hoodie and pressed into the flaming heat of his back.

“No, baby, you can open them now.”

A kiss. Another kiss. Then he slunk back to the pile of presents and picked up the one the cat had tried to claw open a few minutes earlier. A final look to you, as if asking for permission. Then tore it open. He knew it was an item of clothing, or maybe a blanket. Once he read the front of the hoodie, he burst into laughter.

A skeleton cat holding up both its middle fingers, with ‘Best Cat Dad’ in print beneath it.

“All of the clothes and blankets in there have already been washed, so you can put it on now if you want.”

He hurled his sweatshirt at your head and immediately pulled the new one on. The cat came to investigate and sniffed his sleeves as he opened some of the others.

A new wristband for his watch. Another bottle of his (and your) favorite cologne. Then he grabbed a small gift bag that was very light. You recognized it and started giggling.

He balled the tissue paper and bounced it off your forehead. Then looked into the bag. A beat of silence. You bit your lip and dare not laugh.

He lifted the content between his thumb and forefinger and gave you an incredulous look.

“Are these fuckin’ ‘Hello Kitty’ knickers?”

An unattractive snort and you rolled off the couch.

“Please, Si. Please put them on. For me. It’s a matching set.” You army crawled towards him while wheezing with laughter. “We can match. Please. Please.”

He sling-shot your pair at you and stomped off with the Hello Kitty boxers in his grip. He was going to change in the bathroom. Just for you.

They were… comfortable. He had worn Calvin Klein before, usually when matching with you. But the little pink bows and the cute white cat right on top of his package was not a pattern he would have chosen. He pulled his sweatpants back on and walked out to you with a sigh.

“Alright, I’m wearing the-”

You were sitting on the couch, in your matching Hello Kitty set. Just your matching set. Brown eyes blinked. The two of you were equally surprised at the other. Then it finally clicked, and he jumped and started shucking off his clothes. 

“Missed that memo, lovie. Bit slow this morning.”

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2023 Dec 23

[blackypanther9]

Very first Period – Teen!Daughter!Reader x Father!Alastor

WARNING!: Mention of blood, cursing, slight bit of angst, talking about how babies are made, talking about why the period is happening and what happens AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!! I MEAN IT ! DO NOT READ THIS IF THE BABY MAKING MAKES YOU UNCOMFY !! I tortured Alastor...

A/N: Lol Alastor had to educate himself and teach you what was happening and all the shtick. RIP Alastor Hazbin, guys. I think he died five times before he even explained anything to you and then another 10 times as he educated you. (Pic belongs to rightful owner)

Words: 4 726

TAGLIST: @meg-giry1 @wen01203

You felt like shit, utter shit. Your lower belly was hurting and you didn’t understand why. You didn’t tell your Father, Alastor, anything about this, not wanting him to worry too much about you. A few days ago, you had a massive headache and now this. For crying out loud you were only 14 years old !

You decided to sleep a bit more, but then your Father, Alastor Hazbin, the Radio Host, barged into your room.

“Rise and shine, Darling~!”, he happily said.

“Daaaad...! Just five more minutes, please...”, you whined.

The Radio Host looked at you in confusion and looked at the time. You already slept in two hours more than usual and that on your and his free day too !

“Cher, you slept two hours longer in than usual, and that on our day off too. Are you alright ?”

You turned to him and looked out from underneath your blanket.

“My lower stomach hurts...”, you admitted, knowing it was no use to lie to him.

Alastor looked at you in worry.

“Oh dear...”, he muttered and left the room in a hurry.

It didn’t take long for your Father to return with a cup of a hot drink. He put it down on the night table.

“Here you go, Cher. My Mother taught me how to make this. She said if a woman has lower stomach pains, this will help the pains to subside.”, he said.

You looked at him and smiled softly.

“Thank you, Papa.”

“You’re welcome, my little doe. Now...do you want to cuddle and stay in bed until you feel better ?”

You nodded gently and made grabby hands towards him. Alastor chuckled and got into your bed in front of you. You immediately crawled over to him, put your head on his chest and smiled happily, snuggling into your Father. The Radio Host wrapped his arms around you and held you, while you enjoyed the comfort he gave you.

As the tea was cooled down, Alastor handed it to you and you drank the cup empty, then fell asleep on your Papa, who didn’t mind it at all.

It was afternoon when you woke up again and needed the bathroom. You carefully got up from your sleeping Father’s chest, crawled to the edge of the bed and then got up, making your way to the bathroom. After you were done emptying your bladder and washing your hands, you returned to your Father and weirdly enough, fell quickly asleep again. This never happened before, were you sick ?

As Alastor woke up, he grimaced. He felt something wet and sticky on his upper right thigh, it seemed to have soaked through his pants. He tried to move carefully, to not wake you up, but it seemed to have been fruitless. You woke up and made a noise of disgust and discomfort.

“What’s wrong, Cher ?”, the Father asked gently.

“I feel wet and sticky between my legs, Dad...”

“Did you perhaps wet yourself ?”

You gave him an offended look.

“Ewww ! Papa ! No !”

He lifted his hands in mock offence.

“I was just trying to make sure, Cher.”

As he moved you and himself, he felt that the mattress was also wet.

“What in the...”, Alastor said in confusion, disgust and worry.

“Papa...is it just me, or does the mattress feel....wet too ?”

“I feel it too, mon ange (My Angel).”

Then you froze and Alastor could feel you clench your legs.

“What is it, Cher ?”

“P-Papa...I-I’m scared...”

“Why are you scared ?”

“I...I think I am causing the sticky mess, b-but it doesn’t feel like I am wetting myself. I-I can’t stop it either. Papa, what is this ?”, you asked scared out of your mind.

Alastor hated that you were scared, because he was scared and worried too. Just what was happening ?! He took a deep breath, held you close to his chest and then tore the blanket off of both of you. His eyes went wide in horror, while you screamed.

The wet, sticky patch was blood. A pool of blood and it came from you.

“Fuck !”, Alastor cursed in a small panic.

He got quickly out of the bed and looked at his brown pants, his right pant leg was colored blood red too on his thigh. Your blood red.

“P-Papa, d-don’t leave me ! I’m scared !”

He looked at you, his daughter. He knew he couldn’t stay. He had to call a doctor. His house doctor.

“I-I’ll be right back. I need to call a doctor. Don’t panic and don’t move. P-Papa will be right back, Ch-Cher !”

Then he rushed off, while you started to sob and stare at the mess you made in bed. He sprinted to the house phone and quickly called his doctor.

“Doctor Thomas Hugo, how can I help you ?”, Alastor’s house doctor answered the call.

“Mr. Hugo ! It’s my daughter, she is bleeding out !”, the Radio Host panicked.

“Mr. Hazbin, please calm down. How old is your daughter ?”

“Fourteen !”

“Where is she bleeding out ?”

“Her woman parts I assume ! Her pants are all red and so is the mattress !”

“Has it ever happened before ?”

“No, never !”

“So this is the first time. I see...”

“How are you so calm about this ?! My kid is dying !”, Alastor panicked.

The doctor chuckled in amusement.

“She isn’t dying, Mr. Hazbin. Your daughter is having her menstruation week. It is normal.”

Alastor was confused and worried sick.

“A what now ?”

“Ah...I suppose you never heard about menstruation week before...Every month, for a whole week, a grown woman is going through it. It is normal. If you need further information, you need to seek out a library and get a biology book about woman and their menstruation week.”

After a bit more of convincing, Alastor hung up, changed his clothes and rushed out of the house and quickly drove to a library. As he arrived he went to the exact section, his doctor told him the education book would be at. He found it quickly and went to the register. The librarian gave Alastor a strange look.

“My doctor recommended it to me for my daughter. I am a single parent.”, he said as he noticed her look.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were a pervert.”, she said softly and checked the book out.

It confused the Radio Host, why he would be considered a pervert for purchasing the book ? He hurried back home, checked on his daughter, who passed out and then quickly started to read the book. As soon as he started to learn what was actually happening he got embarrassed and uncomfortable. So she wasn’t dying, her body was just growing up even more.

He looked at you and sighed gently.

‘This will be very uncomfortable to explain to her...’

He knew he was in for a long explanation...

-Time skip-

As soon as you woke up and saw more blood oozing out of your womanly part, you whimpered. Alastor heard and came into your vision, by kneeling over you and blocking your sight from all the blood you lost.

“Cher...we need to talk...”

“H-Huh ?”

“Listen...this is difficult to talk about...but I’ve called Doctor Hugo and explained your situation and he recommended me a book to educate myself and you in this. He claimed it was normal and...I know what is happening to you now, mon petit (My little one).”

“W-what IS happening to me, Papa ?”

“Your body is growing up, that’s what’s happening. You have your menstruation week.”

“What...is that ?”

“Well...every month you have a menstruation week. In that week you will bleed out, but it is never harmful. I...never wanted to explain to you where babies come from, but now...I have no choice but to tell you, so this makes sense to you. So are you ready for the most uncomfortable explanation you will, hopefully, ever have ?”

All you could do was nod and your Father sighed, sitting down to your right side and running his left hand through your hair, to calm you down.

“Well...when two people love each other, a man and a woman, they get wed. After they married they usually start to want a family, which means they want a child and...”, Alastor swallowed thickly, “...they go and sleep together, but not in the sense that you think. They kiss and all that and at some point they get undressed. A woman and a man always have different...tools between their legs. That’s why we are referred to man and woman, we have different genitals. These genitals have to...connect deeply and after a while of doing the deed, the woman ends up pregnant with a baby in her belly. This whole baby making progress is called: Sex or, as I rather like to call it: sexual intercourse. Can you follow my words ?”, Alastor asked, very uncomfortable.

“Kind of ? I mean...how do these genitals connect ? How does a baby go inside ?”

“Ah...”, he swallowed thickly again, “Well, you see, my Dear... The man’s genital is inserted into the woman’s genital and they move around until the man has something, called an orgasm. In that orgasm he can make the woman pregnant and she has the tool to carry a baby inside her. It is called a womb. You can’t make a baby without the other part either, besides you adopt a child. You, my beloved daughter, have a womb and something called egg cells. Every month your womb prepares to have a baby and if it doesn’t happen in that month, everything will start to...expire, practically. To get it all out, the dead egg cells and the preparations your womb made, you will bleed out. There are many words for this event. Menstruation week, shark week, period, strawberry week and so on. It usually goes a whole week and then it is over and you are perfectly fine again. It is practically just a cleanse.”

You scrunched your nose up in disgust.

“Eww...I never want to have intercourse with a man. Yuck.”, you said with your tongue sticking out of your mouth.

Then you looked at your Father again.

“So...I’m not dying. I am just having my womb cleansed and it will take a whole week ?”

“Exactly. The blood loss is also supposed to be healthy for you. You have an exchange of blood, which is good. But a period is always different.”

“What do you mean ?”

“You can have more than one egg cell and if that happens, you will lose more blood. And at some point too much blood loss can make you feel dizzy. You can also experience cramps and they can vary from moment to moment. Sometimes they aren’t there, other times they just make you feel uncomfortable in your own skin and other times they actually hurt. Your lower belly pains might have been cramps setting in, my Dear.”

Alastor could tell you already hated this new development of your body.

“Great, so I will also be in pain when I am bleeding out. It isn’t bad enough that it feels like I am wetting myself without any control about it. Not to forget what a mess I am making...”, you groaned annoyed.

Your Father chuckled uncomfortably.

“You will also have cravings for different kinds of food and you will be extremely moody.”

You groaned again.

“Dad...please end me. I don’t want this.”, you begged.

“Sorry, Cher. But I can’t take this off of your shoulders. I already made a list of what I should get you. You will need some more hygienic utensils, like pads, for your underwear. We will need wet wipes, a few more washcloths, some bleach, Blood Thinner Tablets to clean the sheets and clothes, sweets, chocolate and some spices. Get washed up, as long as I am shopping. Don’t worry about the bed or the mess you will be making on your way to the bathroom, I will clean it all up when I return.”

“Okay, Papa...I love you.”

The Radio Host smiled at you and gave you a kiss on your forehead.

“I love you too, mon ange.”

Then he got up and left the room, not long later he also left the house and drove off. You got up and out of bed, entered the bathroom and let some warm water into your bathtub. You will take a long, warm, relaxing bath...

-Time skip-

You were just done with washing up, as you heard your Father return. Yet you were too afraid to get out of the tub, the water slowly turning cold. You couldn’t stop the blood flow and you had tears of frustration in your eyes. Why won’t this damn nightmare stop for at least a few minutes ?!

“Cher ! I’m back !”, your Father called and you heard his footsteps.

Soon enough he was in your room with the things he knew, you needed. You were nowhere to be seen.

“Cher ?”

“Bathroom, Papa.”, you replied with a sob.

Alastor’s smile dropped and he put everything down on your desk, then knocked on your Bathroom door.

“Cher, are you still in the tub ?”

“Yes.”, he answered with a sniffle.

“Do you...want me to come in and talk what upsets you so ?”, he asked gently.

A hiccup and water was moving.

“Y-yes...”, you stuttered out.

Your Father took a deep breath, closed his eyes and then opened the door.

“I’m not seeing anything, Darling.”, he said, trying to not be a pervert.

“Pa, you saw me naked at least twice already. There is nothing new to it.”, you giggled softly.

“So you want me to look ?”

“Dad, I know that you aren’t like other men. So stop being silly and open your eyes, before you fall into the tub or stump your toe.”

“Alright, Cher.”, he said gently and opened his eyes.

He looked at you in worry and confusion.

“So, why are you still in the tub, with lukewarm water none the less, Cher ?”

Your smile dropped and you glared at your body.

“The flow won’t stop. New clothes would be stupid to put on at this rate. Pa, it feels nasty. It feels like I am peeing even though I am not. I hate it. Make it stop, please.”, you begged him.

Your Father gave you a sympathetic look and left the Bathroom, returning with a small package. He sat down on the edge of the tub and held it up to your vision.

“These are Tampons, Cher. They are a piece of fabric and at the end is a string attached. I got from each different thickness two packages. This one is supposed to be the average size and thickness.”, he explained, feeling uncomfortable.

Oh, how he wished his Mother was here now, she would have had no issues teaching you this. He had to read in a damn biology book about this and now he has to teach you. He is VERY uncomfortable, but for you, his sweet daughter, he would do anything. Even leave his comfort zone to help you. You two were in this together.

You tilted your head to your left in confusion and looked at your Father.

“Why is a string attached to it ?”, you asked.

Alastor gave you a gently, yet wobbly, smile. He opened the package, carefully pulled one Tampon out and unwrapped it, then showed you the whole thing. You were confused, but ready to listen.

“The string here is there so you can pull it out. The whole piece of cotton fabric has to go inside you, where the blood comes out. It won’t hurt, don’t worry. It will stop the blood from flowing out of you and soak it up instead. When it is full, you will know, then you pull it out and replace it with a new one. Also, each time you go to the bathroom to relief your bladder, make sure to change your Tampon. It is hygienic and you will have a longer time before you have to change it again.”, he explained gently.

You looked at the small thing in wonder, yet in uncertainty too.

“Where does it go and....will it even fit ?”, you asked.

Alastor gave an uncomfortable chuckle and nodded.

“It will fit, don’t worry, as for where...the book I read in, has a very good description as a picture, I will go get it and show you.”

“Okay !”

Your Father got up and left the Bathroom, soon enough entering again with the biology book. He opened it and turned the pages until he had the side, then he turned the book around and showed it to you. Your eyes widened and you blushed deeply.

“Oh my stars...”, you muttered.

He lowered the book again and gave you and awkward nod.

“Indeed...”

“Okay then...Can I have one now ? So I can get out of the tub ?”, you asked gently.

Alastor nodded, took out a new packaged one, while you stood up in the tub, opened it for you and gave you the Tampon. You took it out of the Package, pulled on the string to make sure it was connected correctly, spread your legs and then gently inserted the Tampon. It felt weird...but you almost forgot about it after it was fully inserted.

Your Father looked away in respect, not wishing to make it any more awkward as it already was. Then you carefully got out and tapped his shoulder as you were wrapped in your towel. He turned around and looked at you.

“All done ?”, he asked.

You nodded gently with a small smile.

“Feeling better too, Cher ?”

“A bit, yes.”

“Good. Get dressed, I still have to show you another useful thing you will need to wear.”

“Alright, Papa.”

With that Alastor collected the open package of Tampons, the book too and left the Bathroom, letting you get dressed. After you were all dressed up, you entered your Bedroom and saw your Father taking off the soiled bed sheets. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

“Can I help ?”, you asked him, feeling guilty that you ruined the sheets.

“No, no, Cher.”, your Father quickly denied.

Then he finished tearing off the dressing of the mattress, seeing the damage it took. A huge red stain. The blanket also had a red stain.

“This will be taken care of easy enough ! Now ! Sit down at the foot of the bed, mon petit !”, your Father said, chirpy.

You did as told and Alastor sat down next to you soon enough, another box in his hands. He opened it and pulled out a white, long slip looking thing.

“This is a pad. The underside has a piece of paper on it, you tear it off and it is sticky. You put it into your underwear for extra measures to not soil your clothes. There are short ones and long ones. I bought from each length 2 packages. You tell me which ones were the most useful and I will stock up on it. Understood ?”

You nodded your head, close to crying. Your Papa went above and beyond to help you. He gave you the pad he was holding.

“Fasten it into your underwear now, mon ange. I will clean the sheets in the bathroom in the meantime.”, your Father said and then took the soiled sheets, entering your bathroom to wash them.

You quickly did as he instructed and were happy that the pad stayed stuck in your panties. Then you entered the bathroom and saw Alastor already trying to get the blood out of the sheets. The water was cold and it was already pink. He seemed to have no issues to get the stains out. He stopped and looked at you.

“Go to my bedroom and lay down, Cher. Your menstruation must take a tool on you. It is your first time after all ! You might feel sleepy again. It is normal to feel drowsy the first time it happens.”

“Are you sure, you don’t need my help, Papa ?”, you asked unsure.

“I am very sure, mon petit. Go lay down.”, your Father assured you.

You nodded gently and then left for your Father’s bedroom, laid down in his bed, cuddled into his blanket and fell back asleep.

-Time skip-

You were woken up by your Father and the sun started to set.

“Cher, what do you feel like eating right now ?”, he asked you gently.

You were in thoughts. As much as you wanted to say it was Jambalaya...it wasn’t. You had no appetite for it. You wanted something sweet.

“I crave something sweet...which is bad..you don’t like sweets...”, you sighed saddened.

“Cher, it’s alright. You have cravings now, you can’t control that. However ! I might be able to eat ONE sweet dish with you, but that will be for dessert !”

“What will that be, Papa ?”

“Beignets of course !”

Your eyes flashed in happiness.

“You can make them ?!”

“I sure can ! Hahaha !”

You hugged your Dad quickly, but winced in pain as your cramps have returned. Alastor noticed.

“What is it, Cher ?”

“Cramps...I moved too fast...”

“No worries, my Dear ! I will make you the tea again and you will be just dandy !”, your Father tried to cheer you up.

You smiled happily and nodded.

“I would love that, Papa.”

“Now...how about I make us some Crawfish Étouffée, as main course ?”

You nodded quickly. It had been a while since you had that dish !

“Yes, yes ! Please Papa !”, you said happily.

Alastor chuckled and rubbed your back.

“Alrighty then !”

You yelped as your Father lifted you up and carried you, bridal style, out of his room, down the stairs and into the living room. He put you down on the couch and then left for the kitchen. He returned a bit after, with a cup of tea and set it in front of you. It was still steaming.

“Here you are, mon ange.”

“Thank you, Dad.”

“My pleasure, Dear.”

Then he left the room again and started to prepare everything to make Crawfish Étouffée as main meal and Beignets as dessert. You pouted that you weren’t supposed to help, otherwise he wouldn’t have put you on the couch.

Your Father turned on the Gramophone and to life sprang a Jazz song, called “Broadway Rose”. You hummed a bit along, while your Father moved a bit to the tune. After some minutes you drank your tea and the next song came on, which was “Do just as I say”.

“Do we have only Victor’s songs playing right now, Papa ?”

“We do, Cher ! Is it not to your liking ?”

“No, no ! I love it ! I was just wondering.”

“Alright, Cher.”

As soon as your pain subsided, you stood up and entered the kitchen.

“Can I help, Papa ?”

Your Father looked at you.

“Only if you feel better, Cher.”

“I do.”

“Well then, you can ! Can you chop the onion, green bell pepper, parsley and the celery, while I prepare the crawfishes ?”, he asked and pulled out some crawfishes.

Some were dirty, so you nodded.

“I can !”, you chirped.

You quickly got everything ready, washed all the ingredients and then got to chopping, while Alastor took over the sink and washed the crawfishes. After he was done with washing the crawfishes, you were done chopping and he turned on the stove.

He made a roux first until it was a caramel brown, then he added your chopped ingredients.

“Can you get out the minced garlic, Cher ?”

“I will.”, you answered and retrieved it.

You gave him a teaspoon and as your chopped ingredients looked tender enough, to Alastor’s liking, he added two teaspoons of garlic to it.

“In the upper cupboard is Chicken stock, Cher. Can you please go and retrieve it ?”

You did as asked and he soon added slowly four cups of it. After all, they needed a serving for two. Everything was doubled, BUT the garlic. You weren’t a big fan of it. Alastor then added salt, pepper and more seasonings.

As soon as the mixture was boiling, he reduced the heat and put a cover over the pot, letting it simmer and only stirred it from time to time. While it will take for the next step a bit over 15 minutes, your Father started to prepare the rice already, by washing it and then adding it into another pot. He cooked the rice, knowing it will take a while anyways.

Then he waited a bit, while he smiled at you and instructed you how to make the beignets.

By the time the Crawfish Étouffée was finished, the beignets were in the oven, baking. Your Father quickly finished up the Crawfish Étouffée on both of your plates and then you both went into the Dining area. You both sat down and started to eat it, carefully, as to not burn yourselves. You hummed as the flavors exploded in your mouth and you felt happy.

As you were almost finished with consuming the dish, the beignets were ready, so your Father left to get them out of the Oven. He put over them some powdered sugar and then plated some of them, bringing them into the dining area.

“There are more in the kitchen.”, he informed you gently.

You nodded your head, as you two continued to finish your dish.

“I really missed your Crawfish Étouffée, Papa.”

Alastor chuckled gently.

“So did I, Cher. So did I.”

You gave your Father a gently smile after you finished your plate. You waited for him to finish too, no matter how much you were dying to try the beignets. After he finished he gently took a beignet and tasted it, humming in delight. You took one too and gently bit into it. Sweetness and flavor exploded in your mouth, but it wasn’t too sweet. You hummed and leaned back in your chair.

“These are delicious, Papa !”, you said after you swallowed.

He chuckled.

“They truly are, mon ange.”, he agreed and ate another one.

After you finished eating, cleaned the table, the dishes and your Father put away the leftovers of the beignets, he turned to you.

“Your bed is still wet, so I suppose you can sleep with me tonight, Cher.”

You nodded your head and left the kitchen, changed into your sleeping attire and then entered your Father’s Bedroom. You crawled into his bed and waited for him to arrive too. He did so quickly, changed in his bedroom, got ready for the night and then joined you in his bed. He hugged you close to his chest, which gave you comfort, you didn’t even know you needed.

You turned around and he laid on his back, while you put your head on his chest, curling up on him.

“You are the best Papa in the world, you know that ?”, you asked sleepily.

Alastor was shocked as you said that, but then smiled warmly and hugged you a bit tighter.

“Now I know for certain, mon petit. Sleep well.”, he replied and kissed the top of your head.

You smiled happily.

“Good night, Pa.”

Together the both of you fell asleep, exhausted.

Alastor was exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions he had, the trips he made and practically ran around town to not leave you alone for too long, with the cleaning he did and the immense relief that you were not dying.

You were exhausted from the whole fiasco the two of you had when your period started, the blood loss and from the bit of work you did. Your first day with your first period, was anything BUT easy.

But together...you and your Papa pulled through.

Masterlist HERE !

[loveywon]

♡𓂃 START NOW !

part 2 is out!

pairing: jungwon x (gn)reader wc: 3.3k synopsis: you and jungwon never really got along, but one morning you're in bed with him and you both don't recognize the room that you're in. warnings: fluff, there's a baby, angst if you squint idk, not proofread, riki n sunghoon mentioned, you n jungwon are seniors in high school! a/n: my first fic on here...NERVOUS.....IM LAZY TO PROOFREAD......pls enjoy though !!!(≧∀≦)

“Anyone who has to endure waking up next to you every morning is definitely receiving karma for something bad they did,” you rolled your eyes at Jungwon who is currently looking at you with squinted eyes and a scowl on his face. 

That's the last thing you said to him before leaving school and going back home to only fight with him again the next morning. Except, you didn’t wake up in your usual bed and you didn’t hear your usual blaring alarm off the next morning. Instead, you actually feel a little hot. You don’t remember putting an extra blanket on you before going to bed last night, but you still felt an extra weight and heat radiating around you. 

You blink twice, eyes still puffy from sleep as you roll over onto your side to get out of bed, but before you could actually even move your legs, a force pulled you closer to the center of the bed. You suppressed a scream. What if it was a serial killer? What if Jungwon had enough and decided to hire a hitman to kill you?! Millions of thoughts began to run through your head, but you snapped out of it when you heard a grumble from behind you. You gulped, deciding whether or not your best option was to just lay still until your potential killer got tired of waiting or if you should grab your lamppost from your bedside table and whack the person with it. 

You got this, y/n! You slowly reach for the lamp, your left hand reaching out slowly to unplug the lamp as quietly as possible. With the blinds slightly cracked open from the window, something on your left finger shined in the light and you paused from almost being potentially blinded, but also because you never wore any jewelry? You quickly looked at your hand, and saw a fat, bright diamond staring right back at you on your ring finger. 

In the state of shock you were in, you quickly turned around to what could be your potential killer in bed with you, but to add onto your surprise even more (honestly how did you not get a stroke?), there laid Jungwon himself, face half buried into the pillow and an arm loosely wrapped around your waist. 

“What the fuck…” you whispered, eyes darting between your ring and Jungwon. You quickly got out of Jungwon’s arms and got on your feet, starting to pace around from stress. You didn’t even recognize the place you were in, everything was decorated so nicely, but so different from your house that you were literally in last night. You quickly peeked through the blinds, seeing that you were in a very suburban neighborhood that you did not recognize. You stopped pacing after getting nowhere, turning to look at Jungwon’s sleeping state. He mumbled something in his sleep, his arm subconsciously moving around the bed where you were previously laying on. This caused him to blink his eyes open and lift his head off the pillow after not finding you in bed with him.

“Good morning, princess. You had a good sleep? Oh me too, now do you please mind telling me where the fuck are we!?” You exclaimed, walking back to the edge of the bed to greet a sleepy Jungwon. 

“What.. what are you doing here in my house?” Jungwon muttered, not really wanting to fight with you in the bright and early morning. He failed to process that he is in fact, not in his own home anymore. 

“This is your house? If I remember correctly, last time when Riki invited me over to yours for the party, your house did not look like this. And I highly doubt that your house would have frilly curtains like this. Your curtains were literally blue last time I was there,” you sighed, clearly frustrated with the fact that Jungwon seemingly did not know where they were. 

He slowly sat up in the bed, rubbing his eyes in an adorable manner (you would rather barf every day than admit this) as he took in his surroundings. His brows furrowed as he did so, realizing that you were right (he would rather smell Riki’s feet than admit this). “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh!” your tone dripping in sarcasm as you started to pace around the bedroom again. You spot a vanity in the corner of the room, and you decide to look through the drawers for maybe something. You didn’t know what you were looking for, but literally anything! Something! 

As you get to the vanity, you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Um…Jungwon…come here…”

He was still taking in his surroundings, rolling his eyes as he groggily got out of bed and trudged towards you.  He bends down to look at the mirror, eyes widening at the sight before him.

Both of you looked much more mature than you did last night, your hair was a lighter color and Jungwon’s (handsome) facial features were much more fitting in his face. 

“What. Why do we look like this??” Jungwon’s hands flew to his face, touching his cheek as he poked himself while looking at the mirror. “This is some serious sick joke, it has to be! I’m gonna call Sunghoon. It was probably his doing,” He rushed to grab his phone from the bedside table, only to find that his phone was a completely different model and much thinner than his original phone. He ignores it, opening his contacts to call up Sunghoon.

“I’ll call Riki, this seems like something he would also do,” you mumble more to yourself as you grab your phone as well, which is the same as Jungwon’s; much thinner than your actual phone. 

Both of you dial up Sunghoon and Riki, holding up your phones to your ears. You bite on your lip absentmindedly as the phone rang and Jungwon tapped his foot impatiently on the carpeted floor. 

“Sunghoon!”

“Riki!”

“Hey, um, you can take us back home now…this house is kinda starting to creep me out. The prank is over, right? Y/n is getting on my nerves,” Jungwon mumbled the last part into the phone, taking a slight peek at you. You return his look, sharp pointed eyes glaring at him since you heard his last sentence.

“Stop with this prank, seriously Riki! I think I might make Jungwon bald faster than he already is if I’m stuck here any longer!” You spoke into the phone, not bothering to keep your words shushed. You wanted him to hear it. 

Jungwon merely rolled his eyes at your words, choosing to be the “bigger” person, as if he didn’t just say that you were getting on his nerves earlier. 

Over the phone, Sunghoon spoke, “What prank? I literally dropped you guys off at home last night, what are you talking about? Also I thought after you and Y/n got married, you would stop with your silly bickering. Ah, you guys are so cute.”

Jungwon swore his eye twitched at Sunghoon’s words.

“Hi Y/n! I don’t know what prank you’re talking about, I swear! Whatever it is, it’s not me this time! Maybe it was Sunghoon, didn’t he see you guys last night? And you’re still bullying Jungwon after all these years? I thought we left that at high school!” Riki chuckled through the phone.

You swore your eye twitched.

You both hung up after saying your goodbyes, deeming them as useless. You and Jungwon turn back to each other from opposite ends of the bed. 

“It’s not Sunghoon.”

“It’s not Riki.” 

You opened your mouth again to start panicking, however, a spine chilling cry came from across the hall, through the closed door of the bedroom you and Jungwon were in. The both of you furrowed your brows in confusion. It sounded like a baby’s cry, and last time the both of you checked, you guys didn’t have any younger siblings. 

You hesitated to check out where the crying was coming from, but the ever so (annoying) brave Jungwon didn’t think twice to leave the bedroom and open the door across the hall. You quickly follow behind, not wanting to be left alone in the foreign bedroom. You peek from behind his shoulder, only to find a baby crying in their cradle, flailing their arms around as they sob loudly. 

“Oh my god, I think I’m gonna puke,” you say exaggeratedly.  Truth be told, the baby was cute, but you were never a person that experienced baby fever. 

Jungwon rolled his eyes at you before walking towards the cradle, shushing the baby quietly as he took it into his arms and started to rock it back and forth in his arms as if it was second nature. The baby surprisingly didn’t cry louder when Jungwon picked it up, which showed on Jungwon’s facial features as he continued to shush the baby. You watched silently, a slight pout unknowingly forming on your lips before Jungwon spoke. 

“I think she’s hungry. Can you get me the baby bottle behind you and make the milk?” He asked quietly, not wanting to scare the baby since the baby doesn’t know him. 

“Oh, uh, yeah…” you replied, turning around to the table behind you. You grabbed the baby bottle and twisted the cap open, but didn’t make a move to do anything else. You stared at the machine. It looked like an espresso machine, but you didn’t exactly know how to work it. You start to press a few buttons, however, none were successful. 

Jungwon sighed, “You have no idea how to make baby milk do you?” He stated more than questioned before he walked towards you and gestured to you to take the baby out of his arms so that he could make the milk. 

You stared at him. He wanted you to hold a baby? You considered yourself to never be trusted with a baby. “Um, I…” You started, forming excuses that were on the tip of your tongue but Jungwon stopped you before you could say anything.

“Just hold her. It’s not the end of the world.”

You bit on your inner cheek, grabbing the baby from his arms and started to cradle her with it. Hey! It was easier than you thought, like you had done this before (you haven’t, your parents never let you near your baby cousins). 

You stared at the baby as Jungwon started to mix the baby milk formula, studying her features. She was actually a lot cuter up close, and before you even noticed, a small smile started forming on your features and the baby soon stopped crying and giggled upon seeing your smile.

Jungwon abruptly turned around, scared that you did something to the baby since she had stopped crying. “What did you d-” He asked hurriedly, but stopped himself when he saw you admiring the baby. 

When you weren’t telling him that he was balding, he always thought you were pretty. This was the closest he’s been next to you when seeing you smile. Everytime he did see you smile, it was always from across the lunchroom at school, or on the other side of the class you two shared together. 

Catching himself staring, he quickly turned back around to attend the milk, but his own little smile graced his face as well. 

“Mama!” The baby babbled, small hands reaching out to touch your hair. You swore you almost dropped the baby on the floor, eyes almost popping out of your head as your jaw went agape. 

Jungwon halted his movements as well, about to pour the milk formula into the baby bottle. He slowly turned around, the baby bottle still in hand but only half filled. 

“What did she just say.” You and Jungwon said flatly in unison. 

After putting the baby back in the cradle and properly giving her the milk, you and Jungwon both left the baby room and sat on a bench that was in the hallway. 

It was silent after a while, neither of you guys knowing what to say or think. 

“Okay…realistically, that is probably someone else’s baby, right? And she’s still young, so she probably just thought that you were her mother…” Jungwon said after some time, his hands running through his hair as he stressed about their current situation. 

“Yeah, but,” you hesitated to say what you were thinking, looking at the door that led to the baby’s room.

“What? Say it. We only have each other right now. I don’t know where we are, and if Sunghoon and Riki insist that this is our house, they are either very, incredibly serious, or they are stretching out this prank. But I don’t think either would go as far as to use a real baby for a prank…right?” Jungwon started to ramble before realizing it.

“She looked like you.”

His head turned to look at you, but you were still facing the baby’s door. “What are you talking about?” He said suspiciously, for once hesitating to ask you about something. He’s never been scared of you - he thinks he never will be. At first, when you two first crossed paths in freshman year of high school, he didn’t think you were scary. Maybe intimidating, but not scary. He doesn’t even remember your first interaction, if he was being honest. He likes to think his first interaction with you was when you both were helping out Yearbook with taking photos of the dance and you asked him to hand you a SD card because your camera was missing one. He knows it wasn’t actually your first interaction with him. 

You remember your exact first words with Jungwon.

“You said I stink?” You said as you stood above his desk where he was sitting, three minutes before your shared class starts. 

He blinks up at you, studying your furrowed brows and the slight pout on your lips. His mouth falls open, but nothing comes out. You roll your eyes, reaching for something in your backpack. You take out a Jo Malone perfume, and start to spray it between you and him. You stopped until Jungwon started coughing from the amount of strong fragrance in the air, smiling like you won first place at an Olympic sport, before walking back to your designated seat.

Jungwon bought the perfume the next day, waiting for you to use all the perfume up and putting it in your locker when he heard you complain to your friends that it was getting empty. 

“She has your eyes and your dimples when she giggles.” You say, matter of factly. You didn’t want to admit that you take in Jungwon’s cat-like eyes, the soft brown that they are and his cute dimples he has whenever he laughs at something stupid Riki said. 

“She also has your nose,” Jungwon also says after a little silence. He noticed the baby’s nose when he first picked her up, how could he not when he spends your time arguing to admire your facial features? 

You stay quiet after he says that, unsure of what to say. This was awkward, and there was literally nothing to go off of. The only proof of whose home this is, is that a random baby that spawned out of nowhere looks like both you and Jungwon. Is that really enough to go off of?

As the both of you are in deep thought, you snap out of it as your stomach grumbles from not eating dinner last night. You crashed in bed as soon as you finished your homework, completely forgetting to eat dinner.

Jungwon does his best to stifle a laugh, but he fails, which earns him a glare from you. He stands up from the bench, your eyes following his movements as he walks towards the stairs. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “Are you coming? Riki says I make a mean pancake.”

Your brows raise in surprise, standing up from the bench and following him down the stairs. As you take in the new surroundings, Jungwon just strides into the kitchen as if he knew exactly where he was. 

“Are you sure you aren’t the one pranking me? You look so…natural in the house,” You start to question, but you highly doubt it because he panicked and over thought as much as you did. He shrugs at your question, but he begins to think the same as well. How did he exactly know where the kitchen was, not thinking twice about looking at yet another new surroundings. 

As he starts to prepare the pancakes for the both of you, you walk towards the living room that is next to the open spaced kitchen. There’s a scrapbook laid open on the coffee table, and you quickly rush to look at it, thinking it would give you some hints about where you were.

You were wrong. It only made you even more confused as you started to flip through the pages.

Even though it freaked you out what was on the pages, you couldn’t help but keep looking at the filled pages full of photos and writings. 

Every single photo had a photo of at least you, Jungwon, or the baby.

You’re flipping through the pages backwards, so when you get to the first few pages, you see a photo of you and Jungwon under a decorated wedding arch. Your eyes widen at the pictures, one of you kissing him on the cheek and another of both of you kissing on the lips. You felt like throwing up.

Fighting through it, you keep going backwards until you reach the first page. There lies a taped letter, and you instantly recognize it as Jungwon’s writing. You read it, and the further you get down to the end of the written letter, you don’t notice Jungwon calling your name.

“Y/n! The pancakes are ready…” his voice fades out as he peers over your shoulder to see  what you’re looking at. His face pales. 

He wrote that letter in junior year. He remembers so vividly, him planning to put it in your locker. Even though he enjoys your little bickering here and there, he wants to be able to hold you, kiss you, and love you. He wants to see you smiling, not because of your friends, but because of him. You only frown whenever you’re around him.

He wishes you didn’t mishear what he said. Maybe if you heard “Riki stinks” instead of “Y/n stinks”, you two would have been a couple sooner. 

“You like me?” You ask him, but you’re not looking at him. You’re staring blankly at the last words written on the letter that reads, “Please accept my liking for you! - Jungwon<3.”

His mouth is dry. 

He never did put it in your locker. He really was! But their senior, Intak, beat him to it. You rejected Intak for whatever reason, but he lost his courage to shove the letter into your locker for the rest of the year and decided that bickering and fighting with each other would be enough to satiate him for the time being. 

After a long silence, you shut the scrapbook and put it back on the table. You shift on the couch that you’re sitting on, turning around to look him in the eye, however, he’s not looking at you. He’s staring down at his pancakes, teeth capturing his bottom lip as he thinks of what to say. 

He doesn’t think you reciprocate his feelings. Why would you when you pick a fight with him every day at school? He thinks you’re just bored and find entertainment in bickering with him, and he’s fine with that. At least he gets to interact with you daily, it’s enough for him.

But now? He’s scared. He’s scared that if he answers yes, he does like you, then you will never speak to him. Knowing you, you might walk out the door of this foreign house that they’re in, and never come back. 

“I don’t know if I like you, to be honest.” You say flatly, as if you were so sure of what you were saying. He still doesn’t look up from his pancakes. He expected this.

“But, I can start now.”

part 2 out now!

[wintfleur]

ꔫ victory kisses

°. — pairings ( Quinn Hughes x female! Reader )

°. — summary ( you stay up to wait for your boyfriend after he wins a game )

°. — details ( g; fluff. w; kissing, one swear word. wc; 1.4K )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I watched the game against the kraken’s and I just knew I had to write a fic for my bby Quinn. This is my first NHL fic for this account and I’m super excited to continue writing nhl fics. For the sake of the fic just pretend the game was a home game for the canucks, please don’t be a silent reader! I hope you guys enjoy it! )

You were peacefully curled up on your couch, your pajama clad body covered in a fluffy gray blanket. You tiredly rest your head on one of the festive throw pillows you had picked out at target a few weeks ago, as you mindlessly scroll through channels on the tv. Trying to find something to watch that would entertain you and keep you awake as you wait for your boyfriend to get back from the Hockey arena. 

Your sweet boyfriend didn't mind if he came home to you sleeping after one of his late games, he always found the sight adorable and he would do his best to quickly get ready for bed so he could join you. But this time you wanted to stay up, they had won, and it was a win they had desperately needed. You finally choose a random channel that was showing a Christmas movie you haven't seen in years. You glance at your Christmas tree that was in the corner of your living room, the multi-color lights, lighting up the dark living room beautifully. 

You and Quinn had decorated the apartment a few days ago, it was a wonderful day filled with hot chocolate, many giggles and tons of soft kisses. A smile coming to your lips just at the thought. Spending time with Quinn, tucked up in your guy's apartment was your favorite. You're brought out of your sweet thoughts of your boyfriend at the feeling of something vibrating near your thigh. You blindly move your hand around on top of the blankets to find your phone, a small sigh of relief leaves your lips when you finally grab onto it. 

Your phone lights up when you lift it, and you're welcomed by your wallpaper (that was of Quinn who had a small smile on his lips as he held your nephew in his arms) and a notification from your boyfriend. Your phone unlocks from face ID, and you eagerly press on your messages. 

quinny 🧸🫶🏻: In the elevator. 

You smile and don't bother answering knowing that he would be walking through the door in a matter of moments, you just give the message a heart and shut your phone off, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table next to your bag of sweets. You didn't hear the familiar sound of the door unlocking, but you heard the sound of Quinn dropping his bag on the floor and the sound of his footsteps coming towards you. 

You lift your head up from the pillow and tuck the blanket under your chin so you can smile up at your boyfriend. The tired look on Quinn's face quickly changes to a small smile at the sight of his girlfriend all curled up in the blanket that he got her, he could see the tiredness in her eyes and his heart filled with warmth at the fact that she stayed up for him. 

“Hi pretty girl” Quinn spoke softly as he sat down on the couch after you lifted your legs to give him space, a sigh of relief as he felt his body melt into the comfy couch. You move to sit up on your knees, most of the blanket slipping off the couch. He had a tired smile on his lips, but you could see his happiness in his eyes, Quinn deserves too always be happy. You loved seeing him happy. “Hi baby, congrats you did so good” 

“Thank you” he muttered shyly, a blush decorating his cheeks at your words. The two of you have been dating for over 3 years and he still would get all shy at your pet names and how sweet you were. He watched as your eyes lit up, and your pretty lips opened as you started to go on a rant about how the game went. His smile turns to a grin, he loves seeing you so passionate about his games. It reminded him how perfect you were for him. 

His eyes focused on your lips and before he could stop himself, he was leaning towards you and taking your lips into his in a soft kiss. You let out a hum of surprise, but you close your eyes and eagerly kiss him back, your lips moving together slowly. Quinn poured all his love into that kiss, and you could feel it. You only pull away to catch your breath, you feel Quinn's pants against your lips as you open your eyes to look into his. Both of you are out of breath from that passionate kiss. You whisper, “What was that for.” 

“I just love you so much” He whispered back as he brought his hand up to move some of your hair out of your face, he felt your cheeks move up into a smile against his hand. You turn your head to place a small kiss on the palm of his hand before you lean your face against his palm, your eyes not leaving his as you whispered with a smile “I love you.” 

“C’mere pretty” He muttered as he motioned to his lap with his eyes, he wanted to feel you in his arms. You hesitated for a second, you had seen the hard hit he had gotten during the game, and you didn't want to hurt him in any way, but you saw the pleading look he gave you and you couldn't say no to him. You slowly moved your body, moving out of the blanket and straddling your boyfriend's thighs. 

Quinn dropped one of his hands to your thigh, while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to lay on his chest, the warmth coming from your body comforting him in ways that no one else could. You laid against his chest, your head laying on his shoulder while one of your arms came up to play with the hair on his nape. Quinn lets out a hum, letting you know to keep going, his eyes shutting at the feeling. Your eyes raked over his side profile; you were so lucky to have a man like Quinn by your side always. 

“How are you feeling? That hit looked bad” you spoke softly, your eyes not leaving his face. The hand that was playing with his hair moves to gently cup his cheek, the pad of your thumb caressing the soft skin of his red cheeks. Quinn’s eyes open at his words and he tilts his head to lock eyes with you, he could see the worry in your eyes, he didn't like to see you worry. You whisper with a frown “It scared me.” 

“I’m okay lovely” He spoke in a reassuring tone. As soon as he sat back down on the bench after the hit, his mind immediately went to you, he knew you would be at home watching. He hated knowing that you saw him in pain like that, he hated making you worry. He knows how much you hated the violence of the sport, always covering your eyes or looking away whenever him or one of his brothers got hit. You hated seeing the people you loved in pain. 

You raised your eyebrow in questioning, you don't think Quinn would lie to you, but you knew he would try to make you feel better. “You promise?” 

“I promise” He promised, and his words were true. He was a little sore, but he would be fine especially because he had you in his arms. He smiled as he watched that from on your face turn to another smile, you leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his jaw before whispering in his ear, your tone teasing. “Wanna get to bed? you need your rest from totally kicking the kraken’s asses.” 

“In a little” He spoke between his laughter, his smile was wide, you never failed to make him laugh.  He brought you closer to him and his grip tightened on you. After he stopped laughing, he placed a long kiss on your forehead, your eyes shutting at the feeling. He whispered in your ear “I don't wanna let go of you yet.” 

“Never let go” you spoke sternly, your tone still sweet. You snuggled closer to him, your nose brushing against the skin of his neck. You never wanted him to let go; you wished you could stay in that moment forever. Cuddled up in your boyfriend's arms on the comfy couch, your apartment covered in Christmas decorations. Your home filled with warmth and love. 

“Never” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( IM ACTUALLY SCREAMING AND CRYING, I LOVE SOFT QUINN SO MUCH OMG. also please feel free to send in requests, I would love to write more nhl fics! )

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Best friend!Stevo helps shy reader cum after hearing about all of her less than mediocre hook ups. Maybe when they’re done stevo says something like “goddamn, you should’ve told me you felt that damn good months ago. Left me completely in the dark, man 😔”

I love this sm omg. Proofread

𝒢ℴℴ𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓃𝒹𝓈

Warnings- p in v, afab reader, mention of bad hookups, making out, oral (f)

You and Steven, or Stevo, were good friends. He found you interesting, and although you might not seem like it to some, he thought you were pretty damn cool.

You hung out on your bed, listening to the person on the tv. You didn’t expect the knock on your door. You slowly got up, in no hurry. They could wait, whoever it was.

You opened the door slightly and the first thing you saw was the blue hair. You opened it more.

“Stevo?” You asked softly, confused at the sudden sight. You had a blanket wrapped around you, it was pretty early.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind.” He let himself in. You weren’t shocked at this point, you shut the door and looked at him.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“I just wanted to see you. Haven’t seen you in a while.” He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Oh.”

“How are you?” He asked. You yawned.

“Tired.” You laughed.

“Why didn’t you show up yesterday? To the party.” He asked blatantly.

“You know parties aren’t my thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Well, your already here. You want coffee.. or something?”

“Sure.”

You both sat down on your bed now, as he looked at a note on your desk. He furrowed an eyebrow and picked it up.

“Had a great time last n-“ he read out loud.

“No, no!” You groaned when you heard it, trying to take it from him, but he lifted it in the air and continued to read it.

“And I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at-“

“Stevo!” You whined, as he laughed loudly, you climbed on top of the man but he continued to read it. Your cheeks heated up.

“From Josh.” He said in a swoony voice, you rolled off of him and folded your arms.

After a little while, he asked with a laugh, “So, was he any good?

"No. I can't go. He was just awful," you said with a shudder.

“Why was he horrible?” He asked, interested now.

“It’s not important-“

“No, I feel like I need to know now.” He laughed, raising his eyebrows.

“So many reasons.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t wanna..”

“C‘mon, give me the details.”

You sighed “These few months, all I’ve had is these not very good hookups. Maybe my standards are high or maybe these men just can’t fucking fuck.”

“Mm. Probably both.” He joked.

As you struck him in the arm, he quickly muttered a soft apology.

“Anyways, this guy was an asshole. First, he didn’t take off his shoes in my damn place, and he didn’t until we started to have sex. Then when he did, he was sloppy, I think he was a virgin.”

He made a face at your words.

“It gets worse. None of them have made me orgasm, I had to fake it. I haven’t had one for months.”

“I could help with that.” He shrugged. You looked at him, thinking he was joking. But no, his face made it seem like he was indeed serious.

“"Stop," you said with a small laugh as you looked back at the TV.

“What? You don’t think I could?”

“You’re joking. It’s funny, Stevo.”

“I’m not.” He said, his tone serious this time. You both stared at each other for a moment, before leaning in. He made it so he was on top of you, cupping your face and kissing you.

He slid his tongue into your mouth, making you moan out in the process. Once you both moved away, a string of saliva followed. He quickly began to unbutton his pants, and you took off your shirt and bra.

He then looked at your pants, taking them off quickly, throwing them along with the rest of your guys clothes. He was quick, and he stared at your almost naked body.

You looked away and crossed your arms, feeling shy under his gaze.

You feel his hand on your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t.” He said. He then moved his way back in between your legs. He pulled your panties down, he looked up at you, and he put his mouth on your pussy.

His hands gripped your thighs as he licked like it was his last meal. Your noises motivated him, he focused on your clit, licking a stripe up the bundle of nerves.

You moaned out his name, his ego grew at every one you let out.

You had a firm grip on his hair.

“Stevo- Im-“

He didn’t stop, in fact, his tongue worked faster, it felt heavenly on your pussy.

You came on his face, your first orgasm in months. He came up from in between your legs, licking it from his lips.

You thought for a while about how your best friend had just eaten you out. He had just helped you get your first orgasm in what felt like forever.

Your thoughts were interrupted when he pulled his boxers down, you were shocked by his size.

He asked what was wrong when he saw the expression on your face, a proud smirk on his lips.

“Are you sure that's gonna…”

"We'll find out," he shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your eyes fixed on him with an intense desire, a desire that he reveled in.

He stroked his cock a few times in front of you, as you laid in front of him. He moved his cock to your entrance, looking closely at your reaction when he slid into your pussy.

Your face scrunched up and he stayed still inside you for a little.

“Okay. Move. Please.” you nodded.

“Yes ma’am,” he said jokingly, starting to move deeper inside, his hands were on your sides as he started to thrust slowly at first.

But you needed more. “Stevo- faster-” you said

He listened, his thrusts turned quicker, a lot quicker than you expected the man to be. He was thrusting at a brutal pace, slamming his hips into yours.

“Fuck. You feel amazing.” he moaned out, throwing his head back for a moment, fully enjoying this moment.

Both of your guy's noises were the only thing that could be heard, bouncing off the walls.

He focused on the way you squeezed him, fuck, you felt amazing. He wanted to be buried in your pussy forever.

He loved the way your eyes were screwed shut and the noises that came from your mouth. It was something straight out of his biggest wet dream.

“Stevo!” you cried out, he was hitting your g spot, and you loved every second he thrust his hips into yours.

He knew you were about to come, he could tell by the way you were squeezing him so hard it was harder to move in and out.

He just listened to the way you cried out his name, and the way you came on his cock, it truly did feel like a dream, he was sure he’s never had pussy this good.

He came after you, starting to slow down his movements as they got slightly sloppy.

He pulled out of you, the both of you breathing heavily. He just looked at you and flopped down next to you.

“You should have told me you felt that good months ago. I feel left in the dark.” he turned his head to you, and you turned to him with a giggle.

“Well, now you know.”

[oneforthemunny]

You are so good with angst!! If you feel like it: thong, but with Mafia!Eddie Oops, he forgot to mention a business associate was coming over with him

i'm guessing and went with smut as the genre like the one thong request with older!eddie haha! here's mafia!eddie <3 minors dni

You closed your eyes, the cool air from the many box fans you had piled in the room finally cooling you. The dogs laid out with their own. You knew they wanted to touch you, they always wants to be near you, but today you'd commanded them to the floor. It was too damn hot for anyone, anything to touch you.

Clothing included.

You found yourself shedding more and more clothes throughout the day until you were left in nothing but your thong. You ridded yourself of your tank top last, calling it quits for the day and retreating to Eddie's office- the coolest and sunless room in the house, dragging all the fans into there.

The air conditioning unit had stopped working yesterday evening, of course, in the middle of the heatwave that was terrorizing Hawkins right now. Eddie had told you he'd get it fixed, that someone would be there soon. That was this morning, hours ago, and they still hadn't shown up.

The front door opened, closing with a heavy thud that had the dogs up and at alert. "Baby?" Eddie's muffled voice called from downstairs.

Diablo let out a commanding bark, ears erect and pointed, nose touching the door. "In here," You groaned, too tired to move. Why would you? It was too hot to, and the fan felt so nice on your hot skin, finally comfortable for the first time all day.

"In my office?" Eddie's voice got closer. You didn't bother moving, not even opening your eyes, the cool air and hum of the fan lulling you.

The dogs barked in excitement when Eddie walked in, running around him. Eddie clicked, a demand for them to get back. "Did they not come and get it fixed?" Eddie asked.

"No," You groaned, a soft pout on your features. "It's so hot, Ed. I don't kno-"

"-Woah!"

"-Baby!" Eddie's hiss came after another voice, your eyes snapping open. Eddie's wide eyed meeting yours, a blush rising up his neck, Jeff standing behind him, back turned from you, undoubtedly with the same embarrassed expression.

"Eddie!" You squeaked, hands flying to cover your pebbled nipples. You squeezed your legs together, hoping to hide what the tiny thong didn't. "I-I didn't- You didn't tell me people were coming over!"

Eddie snatched the blanket off the arm of the couch, covering it over you. Your skin pricked with sweat at the thick cashmere laying over you, but you didn't dare move.

"Jeff, gimme a sec." Eddie nodded towards him.

Jeff muttered something, back still turned as she quickly left the room. Your body burned, both with the heat and from embarrassment.

"Why do you not have any clothes on?" Eddie lifted a brow, voice dropping lowly when Jeff shut the door.

"I was hot!" You squeaked. "I didn't know people were coming over!"

"What about the air conditioning guy?" Eddie frowned at you, a dark, possessive look clouding over him.

"You said he wouldn't come in the house, and I didn't need to answer the door!" You countered, glaring at him lightly. "That's why I came in your office with all the fans, because I knew- Well, I thought, no one would come in here."

Eddie's face softened, a small huff leaving his lips. His hair was pulled back, curls frizzy from the heat. He had opted for a short sleeve shirt today, still black, but silk, the top buttons undone.

"My clothes are over there." You nodded towards the arm chair, where you'd lazily thrown your tank top and tiny cotton shorts.

Eddie walked over, switching your clothes for the blanket. You slipped the tank top over your head, the cotton clinging to your clammy skin. Maybe you'd have a cool bath instead, soak in the cold water and finally cool down.

Eddie lazily folded the blanket back, eyes watching you through a half lidded gaze. "When'd you get those?" He hummed, eyes lingering over your tiny, lacy thong. "That's new."

Your skin pricked with heat, excited, flushed, a little embarrassed still. "Last week," You muttered, looking up at him carefully. "When Nancy and I went shopping. I saw them and thought they were cute."

Eddie hummed. "Very cute." His lips twitched in a grin. "Keep 'em on for me, ok? I'm gonna try and get rid of Jeff. Send him to go get that lazy fucking asshole to fix this air conditioning." He huffed in annoyance.

You rolled your eyes gently. "Yeah? And do what? It's way too hot to have sex right now, Eddie. I'm already boiling."

Eddie grinned wickedly, eyes darkening in a way that made you shiver, body kissed in goosebumps. "I think I can find a way for us to cool down." He hummed, gaze rolling over your frame again. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Eddie returned with his own shirt off, a champagne bucket filled with ice in his hands. The blanket was spread on the floor this time, fans still pointed all around you, before Eddie stripped you back down to nothing but the thong, dragging the ice over your nipples, down your sternum, holding it between his teeth when he drug it up the inside of your thighs leaving you shivering in its wake.

[lasciviouspoison]

story time: how ignored my bf and then had the best sex ever!!

omg another kinktober post?? i’m on a roll!! lol, but i wrote this so long ago and never published it, please don’t hate me :( tw: chubby!reader x eren, black!reader x eren, hate!fucking, bratty!reader, mean!dom eren, overall, eren’s a meanie and u like it!

eren had never been that good of a listener. in fact, he took pride in his ability to tune out any and everyone. 

it was something you desperately tried to rid him of. 

of course he would listen to you when you needed him, always being a supportive and attentive boyfriend. but, there were times when you could feel him drifting away from the conversation. although it wasn’t always intentional, it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

and you’d tried everything to break this habit, yet, nothing worked. however, you figured that since nothing else worked on eren, giving him a taste of his own medicine might kickstart some change.

so, you made the executive decision that if he would not listen to you, then you would simply not listen to him. 

after having a long day of classes, eren finally was able to come home to you. despite being frustrated, he just wanted to see his pretty little girlfriend and rant a bit about his day. nothing too complex, right?

wrong. 

“I don’t see why I'm always involved in these fucking group projects. it always ends up with me doing the work and everyone expecting their name to be put down. I'm so over this shit yn, you have no fucking idea”. eren explained while cooking dinner. it was something he would do to relieve stress, a useful habit if you will. 

“mhm” was all you muttered from the couch. sure, you knew you were being a bitch, but you didn't care. eren had just done something similar to you last week, so it was well within your right to break even. 

“are you even listening to me?” eren peaked his head out from around the kitchen wall only to find you staring at the book that sat atop the lavender blanket strewn across your legs. 

“yeah, sure am.” 

eren walked over to you and squatted down, capturing your jaw in his hand and forcing eye contact, “well, what did I say?” 

eren really was an intimidating man. while his green eyes bore into your own, you couldn’t help but think about how big he was. both in stature and presence, your boyfriend really wasn’t someone to fuck around with. and as each part of eren was strong and foreboding, so was your will.

you shook your head out of his grasp and returned to your book, “i’m not entirely sure, something about a project. I honestly don’t care that much.” you knew were being harsh, but you needed him to feel it. 

eren’s head cocked to the right, and you could feel his confusion, “did I do something?”

you looked up from your book once more, fixing your glasses, “no ren, you did nothing”.

he squinted his eyes, “okay …. so why are you acting like that?”

“like what?”

he stood to his full height and placed his hands on his hips, “like you don’t care about what I'm saying.”

you closed the book, lifted the blanket from your legs and stood up, “because I don't”.

you began walking to the bedroom, knowing that eren was hot on your heels. you had to speed walk to prevent him from catching your arm. 

after finally making it into the room, you didn’t realize that you had given eren the perfect opportunity to cage you in and make you speak.

“fuck you mean you don’t care? what I do to you?” the bass in his voice was causing reverberations to go through your chest but you held your ground. you were tired of him not listening to you and if it caused an argument to break him out of it, then so be it 

“you don’t listen to me, so why the fuck do I gotta listen to you?! that shit aint fair to me and I'm tired of being fair to you”. 

suddenly, eren stiffened and your heart dropped. while tension hung heavily in the air, he was looking you up and down, almost like he was sizing you up. you could tell he was staring at your tits through the sheer material of your tank top, but you made no effort to hide. if anything, you felt like puffing your chest out more to show that you weren’t fucking around. 

“so you decided to act like a fuckin brat because I don't listen sometimes, is that it? you’ve suddenly decided that you don’t care about me or the things I say anymore, is that right?” he was nothing but an arms length from you, yet eren made no move to touch you.

“eren I never said I don’t care about you-”

eren put both of his hands to your face, squishing your chubby cheeks together, “nah, nah, don’t try to back down now. you wanna act like you don’t care about me, then I'll act like I don't care about you.” he was talking to you like a child with his voice slightly over a whisper. it scared you more than him yelling. 

“what does that mean?” your eyes were a little teary, so eren knew he had to wrap this up before you started to get the wrong idea.

“it means I'm gonna fuck you like I don't care about you, just for now. and then, when we’re done, we can talk about my lack of listening. okay?” his eyes were dark and his nose was brushing yours. you weren’t sure whether to be turned on or angry. 

before you knew it, he pushed your body onto the bed and removed his shirt. hurriedly, he pulled down your sleeping shorts and pulled up your tank top. 

“eren can you slow down-“ was all you could get out before he drug your body to the farthest edges of the mattress, causing your butt to hang off the bed. he threw your legs over his shoulders and gripped your ankles tightly.

he was looking down at you in a way you’d never seen before. it was almost like he was looking through you, like you weren’t a person, but an object to take his frustration out on.

“not even g’nna get to kiss u. see what happens when you’re a brat?” he swatted his hand down to the side of your right thigh, causing you to hiss.

you opened your mouth to talk but eren simply filled it with his fingers. you gagged a couple times from the pressure, but he was unfazed. he simply collected the spit from your mouth and slathered it over your pussy, making you wetter than you already were.

he dropped to his knees and drug his nose over your panties. you started to reach down towards his hair, but before you could fully grasp him, he pushed you away and bit your thigh.

“stupid fucking girl wants to try and ignore me. i’ll give you something to ignore. ion wanna hear shit from that mouth, understand?” you can feel his warm breath fan your pussy and it’s making you dizzy.

he slaps your pussy and you whimper, “i asked you a question little girl, answer it.”

you shake your head yes, not wanting to anger him any further by speaking. he barely acknowledges you and rips your panties off. you wanted, so badly, to moan at his aggressiveness, but you opted to keep silent.

meanwhile, eren was eating your pussy like a man starved. while he claimed to wanna fuck you like he didn’t care about you, he couldn’t help but to lick on the all spots that made you whine. he knew your pussy better than you did, and he was determined to show you.

he pulled his head back, shiny from your slick, and pushed his middle and ring finger into your weeping hole. “ya think ion listen? think i don’ care? you think id know how to make this cunt cry if i didn’t?”

you could barely see eren due to the tears blurring your vision. you wanted to scream out his name and apologize, but you held your tongue and continued to writhe in pleasure on the bed.

eren could feel your pussy clench and gush on his hand, so much so that a little puddle began to form in his palm. he laughed at the sight and ducked his head back down to lick at your clit. he knew just how much you loved to see his head between your legs, so he wanted to put on a show for you. he made a point to look you dead in your eyes while his tongue glided over your puffy clit, watching you bite down on your pretty lips to prevent any noise from spilling out. he watched you grip those pretty titties he loved as your head pushed further into the pillows. if he wasn’t so hell bent on punishing you, eren knew that he’d be fisting his cock at the sight.

he could feel you hold your thighs back from clenching around his head and he chuckled into your pussy, the vibrations causing your back to arch off the bed. he took the hand that wasn’t inside you and pushed your body back down, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to run away from him.

just before you reached your orgasm, eren pulled his mouth and hand away, slapping your pussy a few times before standing up again.

without talking, eren gathered up some of your essence and slathered it along his dick. little groans and moans were making their way out of his mouth and you stared up at him starry eyed. he looked so pretty standing over you. pretty pouty lips open slightly, eyes sitting slow with his long lashes fanning his face. even the small and slightly out of place hairs on his head were perfect in this moment. before you knew it, you began to whine and rub your thighs together. if he was gonna fuck you like this, you at least wanted him to be quick about it.

he opened his fully eyes and sneered, “thought i told ya to keep quiet? and you say i don’t listen”.

his tongue ran over his teeth and he bent down to your face. without a word and nothing more than a stare, he slid his dick between your pussy. hitting your clit with every move he made.

finally, you reached your breaking point, “oh eren please. i’m sorry! i swear i’m sorry, i wont do it ever again just please fuck me!” the desperation in your voice was hurting him. he knew that you were showing him how you felt and it’s why he’s been trying to work on his listening habits. but, his internal growth isn’t all too important at the moment.

instead of responding to your pleas, eren covered your mouth with his hand and brought his face closer to yours. “keep talkin and i’ll shove your panties in your mouth. take this dick and shut up”, was all he said before he gripped his dick, tapped it on your clit a few more times, and slipped it in with a pop.

with a muffled “fuck” leaving your mouth and a slight groan from his, eren’s head lulled into your neck. finally, he started fucking you with a furry you’ve never felt before. granted, eren is great in bed. he’s rough sometimes, gentle on others, and is willing to try anything once. but for some reason, his lack of respect for you has turned your body and brain into nothing but mush.

“ah fuck princess, you’re squeezin’ too tight” he said before gripping your hips with both hands, removing the one placed on top of your mouth.

even though he told you to hush, you knew eren couldn’t stay mad for much longer. “can you, fuck - ugh, eren can you please look at me?”

he took his head out from the crook of your neck and hovered over you, all the while never slowing down his thrusts. with him still giving you this look of carelessness, he gripped your face hard and let out a severely stern “open”.

you opened your mouth and he spit into it, softly groaning after feeling you immediately clench around him. you swallowed and stuck your tongue back out just how he likes it, and you swore you saw a bit of a smile flash over his face.

“���m gonna cum rennie. can i please?” you said as your eyes rolled back. you never had to tell eren when you were gonna cum, he always knew. the slight shake in your legs and the slight twitch of your eye were tell tale signs of a quickly approaching orgasm.

still keeping with his angry facade, he gave a quick “do what you want”. not before coating his thumb with spit and rubbing quick circles on your clit. just how you like it of course.

“oh fuck ren…i’mcummingi’mcummin- ah!” he kept going despite your pleas and the feeling of your cum splashing onto his stomach. his all time goal was making his woman feel good and if overstimulating, see borderline killing, her was the case, then he’d do it.

after feeling your body calm down, eren pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach. “stick your ass in the air”.

still coming down from your orgasm, your movements were a bit delayed. moving too slow for eren’s liking, he picked your hips up and propped you up on your knees himself, quickly fucking back into you.

it didn’t take long before his strokes got sloppy. you felt him grip your hair and pull. as your head flung backwards, very hard, if i may add, you could feel eren’s cum shoot deep into you, slowly filling you to the brim.

after a few seconds of heavy breathing and slow grinding, eren pulled out of you, gave your pussy a kiss, and left. he returned shortly after with a rag and began to wipe you clean.

as your body fell to the side, you were able to face eren once more. no longer were his eyes empty, but they were full of care and concern.

“do you need anything? water or a snack? i was more rough on you than usual so i wanna make sure you don’t feel funny”. his eyes were so expressive, voice so soft, and his hands were so warm. it’s crazy to think that this soft and sweet boy was just fucking into you with no remorse not even five minutes ago.

you shook your head, “no, i’m alright”. the sudden raspiness of your voice caught the both of you by surprise, causing your hand to immediately grab at your throat.

eren picked you up and sat you upright. he ran his hands over your neck, checking your lymph nodes and general neck area. “your throat feels fine, it’s probably just really dry from not talking. i’m gonna grab you some water, don’t move!” he said before running off. ‘typical nursing student’, you thought to yourself, trying not to laugh.

when he returned, he held the bottle to your lips, refusing to allow you to move a muscle.

after taking down some water, eren soon began, “listen. i know i’m not the best listener. i’ve been trying to get better, but i know it still upsets you and i’m sorry. i’m not mad at you for acting that way, it just shows me that, that’s how it feels. i’m gonna get better, i swear i am. so please don’t be upset with me anymore”. his green eyes were so sad looking, it was like looking at a puppy.

you ran a hand over his cheek and smiled, “promise im not upset baby. thank you for telling me you’ll try harder. i can’t wait to see it”. he tucked some of your hair behind your ear before pulling you into a deep kiss.

soon, the two of you fell back into your peaceful afternoon routine. after your shared shower, eren went back to the kitchen and started back with dinner. thankfully he was cognitive enough to shut the stove off before hand. finally, you returned to your spot on the couch, book in hand and a newly positive attitude.

[natimiles]

Always (Levi x reader)

Summary: Levi was accustomed to solitude, grappling with his fears alone. Not anymore.

Words: 798

Tags: hurt/comfort; Levi looking down at himself; cuddling; a little fluffy; newly dating; no pronouns specified for reader.

Notes: I just wanted to cuddle my sea serpent demon 🥹🤲🏻🤍

His room is always quiet when he’s sleeping, with only the aquarium buzzing in the background. His blue lights are always illuminating the floating jellyfish, giving them a haunting look. His bathtub is always full of blankets, comfortable enough for him and his Ruri pillow. His things are always smelling like the ocean, a scent that soothes and comforts him. And he is always alone there.

However, things are different this morning. 

His nostrils catch a scent that isn’t the usual, but somehow does an even better job of keeping him calm. Stirring, he feels something holding him firmly. Frowning, he peeks one eye open and notices it’s definitely not his Ruri pillow he’s clutching. Blinking the sleep away, he looks down and catches sight of you.

He’s lying on his back, holding you while you’re almost on top of him, embracing him tightly. His tail is even wrapped around one of your legs. What the—

Memories suddenly flood his brain.

Oh.

Right.

You slept in his room with him, calming his anxiety and helping him… Again. He sighs, remembering the sorry excuse of a demon he was the night before. He rubs his hand over his face, both ashamed and sleepy, and tries to move.

“You won’t leave me here,” your soft voice rings around the bathtub. So low, but somehow so powerful.

“A-ah!” He jolts, accidentally holding you closer in his surprise. “Y-you’re awake!”

“Good morning,” you chuckle, lifting your head to lean your chin on his chest and look at his flustered face.

“Morning,” he mumbles.

You’re still intently looking at him, and he’s already embarrassed enough. He tries to bring his hand to his face, so he can hide as he always does, but you intercept it and lace your fingers together. He pouts and tries to avert your gaze by looking at his ceiling and the jellyfishes hanging there.

However, you won’t accept it. You shimmy your body up, bringing your face to the same level as his and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. He blushes harder and looks at you from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t hide from me,” you whisper. You bring your hands, still intertwined together, to your lips, placing a soft kiss there too. “You have no reason to hide. And don’t think poorly of yourself.”

Levi wants to disagree. He wants to argue and say he has lots of reasons to hide, that he doesn’t deserve you, that you should go and leave him alone already. You should stop wasting your time with a pathetic demon like him.

But then you use your linked hands to nudge his chin and make him look at you, and everything he’s always thought about himself slowly subsides.

You have such a loving expression on your face.

Your lips wear that beautiful smile he loves, one that reaches your eyes and makes them squint softly. Your cheek is marked from sleep; he can see the line his pajama shirt left on it — but it doesn’t look painful, and he could say you look even more beautiful.

You bring your linked hands to your lips again, and he sees your perfect nails, matching his own, painted in his colors by yourself when you did both his and yours last night in an attempt to distract him from the self-deprecating thoughts.

“I-I’ll try not to…” he mutters under his breath. You give him a look, and he fumbles with his words in the next second. “I-I… w-won’t… I won’t.”

“Good,” you smile. “I won’t let anyone look down on my lovely boyfriend, and that includes you.” You poke his chest teasingly.

“Alright,” he sighs, and he’s sure even his sigh sounds smitten right now.

Leaning down, you kiss his lips softly. 

He emits a startled hum, widening his eyes. “W-w-warn me first!”

“I love you, Levi,” you whisper, and he swears he sees hearts in your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you again.”

“I c-changed my mind, it’s worse when you warn me,” he stumbles on his words.

That makes you laugh heartily, and he doesn’t have much time to stare in awe at you because you’re kissing him again in the next second.

His room was always quiet when he was sleeping, now he has your steady breaths to listen to. His blue lights were always illuminating the floating jellyfishes, now they reflect into your beautiful, bright eyes. His bathtub was always full of blankets, comfortable enough for him and his Ruri pillow, now it has you and your warmth. His things were always smelling like the ocean, now they’re impregnated with your smell, one that works wonders to keep him grounded.

He was always alone there.

He isn’t anymore, and never will be again.

He will always have you now.

Taglist: @sh0jun @chevcore @judejazza

Masterlists

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 37

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: wowee, it's snowing here a lot.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Loki… Mr. Laufeyson doesn’t linger. As you lay in a sheen of foggy afterglow, he dresses and mutters to himself. You want to ask him to stay. To tell him it’s okay but you’re scared he might say no. So you prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him button his shirt.

“We both require a good night’s rest to contend with my family,” he says.

You nod and sit up, sliding your legs beneath the blankets. He looks up as you do and a line creases in his forehead. His worry makes you worry. You’re starting to get the feeling that something bad is looming.

“In the morning,” he avows before he turns away. “You will not emerge until I fetch you.”

“Yes, Loki,” you answer.

He stops at the doors and lowers his head, “here, behind these walls, I am Loki, beyond, Mr. Laufeyson. Understand, pet?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur.

He pulls open the door and steps out swiftly. The mechanism clicks into place and you fall back onto the pillows. You deflate beneath the downy duvet and close your eyes. He confuses you. One moment, he’s all over you, all-consuming and insatiable, the next he’s distant and icy to the touch. 

You hug the top of the blanket and cling to his lingering warmth. Your thighs tingle and your core plucks as you clench, thinking of how his fingers delved deep into you. Why couldn’t he stay? You could have done more. You think you’re ready to.

It’s never what you want. You will await his signal and as always, you will take his lead. That is better. His words ring in your head from that fateful day, ‘obey and serve my every need and you will have all you ever longed for.’

What do you long for? That question follows you into your subconscious. You sink into the void, the knot of anxiety bound around your chest. Visions of rich greenery and fluttering petals fill your head, birds winging and critters chirping all around. The magical garden is a shrine of rosy sunlight.

Your mind builds a paradise and all at once, it falls around you. Your eyes roll open as you float back to the surface. Your lashes stick together as you blink and groan. It’s early, too early. Dawn paints a violet hue across the room. You lift your head and search around. Something must have woken you but there’s nothing but shadows.

You drop your head back down and groan. You turn onto your side and curl up, tucking a hand under the pillow. You squeeze your eyes shut, reaching for the last dregs of drowsiness. Your head swirls as you feel yourself descending again. 

You’re brought back again. This time, you catch the noise. Your ears prick and you lift yourself to look over at the door, a gentle scuffing on the other side.

What’s happening? 

You squint, your vision dulled in the lowlight. You sit up and push back the blankets as you sidle to the end of the bed. You see a black spot beneath the doors, darker than the rest of the slatted shadow. It moves. There’s someone out there.

The bed creaks as you bend your legs over the edge. Who could it be? Mr. Laufeyson?

A tap on the wood makes you flinch. The handle wiggles but doesn’t press down. Your heart thumps in your chest. A whisper comes through, “pet…”

Your spine goes rigid. Pet? It must be Mr. Laufeyson, but why doesn’t he just let himself in? You don’t recall locking the door before you went to sleep. You get up and creep forward.

“Pet, let me in,” the whisper is sandy and low. Is it really him? Who else would it be?

You unzip your bag in the dark and pick out a nightgown from the bottom, jostling the rest of the clothes. You slip it over your head and rub your eyes. You shiver as the air is cooled in the darkness.

You near the door and grab the handle so it stills. There’s tension as you twist it. It releases and unlatches easily. The lock is not in place. You pull it open a crack and squeak at the large, looming silhouette on the other side.

“Ah, pet, you’re awake,” Thor rasps.

“What–” you gulp, “what are you doing?”

“You didn’t come say hello,” he drawls, “so, hello, pet.”

You blink at him and push on the door. He slaps his hand against it, the wood shaking between you. You know he’s much strong, you can’t close him out.

“What is the matter?”

“Nothing, I– I’m trying to sleep,” you eke out. If Laufeyson knew…

“You are funny, pet,” he chuckles.

“Please, go, I’ll see you in the morning–”

“But I am here now,” he jerks the door, just a little, just a statement: he can open it if he wants.

“Why?” 

“Why?” He huffs, “you haven’t very good manners, pet. My brother has trained you poorly–”

“Please leave me alone,” you beg, jittering. Just the mention of his brother has your heart in your throat. He said to avoid Thor but what do you do when he seeks you out.

‘To the right of your door…’ you pluck the words from your memory and shudder.

“I just want to talk,” he edges the door in another inch and you stumble back.

You spin and run to the wall, pounding on it with your fists. You must seem crazy but you don’t care. You hit it over and over, “Mr. Laufeyson! Mr. Laufeyson!”

You’re wrench back as a large hand frames the back of your neck. Thor turns you and claps his other hand over your mouth, hushing you. You whimper as you shrink in his shadow.

“What are you doing? I’ve only come to talk–”

You wriggle and put both your hands around his wrist. It’s so thick, neither hand can fit all the way around. You kick out as he keeps you pinned to the wall.

“Haven’t I been nice to you?” He growls, “so why do you treat me as a villain, little maid…” he leans in, “perhaps because your thoughts have corrupted me, hm? Naughty little maid.”

His voice lightens playfully as he tilts your head up. You squirm as your hand slides down his forearm. Your other swings out to hit his chest.

“What do you think I’d do? If I am so evil, what could I do?” He taunts as he pulls you from the wall. He drags you towards the bed, “what have you done, eh?” He says as he edges towards the bed, “you’ve already made a mess.”

He throws you back onto the rumpled duvet and you squeak. You push yourself up on your elbows and bring your heels onto the mattress. You push yourself back as he looms over you.

“Aren’t you supposed to take care of messes, little maid?” He bends and puts his hands on the bed, snarling through his teeth. He catches your ankle and pulls your leg straight, tugging you down to your back as you yipe. “Let’s make a mess–”

He grunts and suddenly staggers, releasing you as a dark blur crashes into him. He hits the night table and sends the lamp to the floor. He deflects Mr. Laufeyson as he charges again and they tangle each other up in their arms.

“You beast,” Laufeyson hisses, “get out!”

“Ah, brother, lovely to see you here,” Thor chuckles, “we were only just talking about you–”

“Shut up!” Laufeyson snaps, hooking his leg around his brothers. 

“Don’t be so… dramatic,” Thor heaves as they struggle, pulling back and forth as each tries to overturn the other, “I was only getting to know her–”

“Get out!” Laufeyson repeats, “or I will truly be dramatic. Let mother see the cretin you truly are–”

“Speak for yourself–”

“Get!” You throw out your foot and kick Thor’s shoulder, immediately regretting it as he barely reacts. You scurry back and hug your legs.

“Aye, little maid,” Thor sounds amused, “isn’t that cute?”

“Brother, I tell you one last time–”

Thor cracks his elbow into Laufeyson’s ribs. The slimmer man lets go with a wheeze but doesn’t falter long as he slides between the burly blond and the bed. He coughs out another warning, “go.”

“I’m going,” Thor says lightly, “you always were so serious, brother.”

He waves off Laufeyson and steps away, sending you a look through the rising dim. You cower and watch him stalk away. Mr. Laufeyson follows and swiftly shuts him out, turning the lock with a loud click.

You push yourself to the edge of the bed and lower yourself to the floor. You pick up the lamp and straighten the table. You flip the switch and the light radiates around you. You turn to Mr. Laufeyson as he holds his ribs and scowls, slumping back towards you.

“Are you alright?” You ask as you rush towards him, “Mr. Laufeyson…” you reach to touch him but think better of it, retracting your hands to fold your arms over your chest, “I… Thank you.”

He sniffs and sits on the side of the bed. He pushes back his dark hair and winces. You hover before him nervously, shaking like a hummingbird.

“You did well… calling for me,” he says quietly, “that was very good, pet.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I thought it was you knocking. I didn’t mean to–”

“I said, you did well,” he interjects as he outstretches his arms, beckoning you closer. He touches your upper arms and draws you straight, “are you alright?”

You quiver and nod, “I think…”

“Good, good,” He pulls you closer and leans forward to kiss your forehead, “I will sleep here then. Just until the morning comes.”

✨

Mr. Laufeyson leaves as you dress for the day. He bids you to lock the door behind him. He’s been silent but not in his usual way. Pensive but not dour. You put on a poppy red blouse with a brown skirt. 

You ready out of habit, your mind still trapped in the night's events. First, Laufeyson and the wonderful way he made you feel. Then Thor and the horror he brought into your room. It almost feels like a bad dream.

You go to the door but don’t emerge. What if Thor is waiting? You shudder as you think of what he would’ve done if you hadn’t called for Mr. Laufeyson. If you hadn’t been heard.

The door shakes as a tap rattles you from your trance, “darling,” Frigga calls through, “are you awake?”

You inhale deeply, throat tight, and unlock the door. You pull it open and force a smile, “yes, I was just… about to come out.”

“Wonderful,” she trills, “we are having tea in the garden.”

“Oh?”

“Come,” she takes your hand, “after tea,” she drags you out as you pull the door closed with your other hand, “we will go into town and get a few things for the celebration. Flowers, as I said. And perhaps a new outfit.”

“Okay,” you agree meekly.

“Did you sleep well?” She asks as you get to the stairs, “you are quiet.”

“Fine,” you answer.

“Yes, I do find it difficult to sleep in new places,” she hums, “well, we only want you to feel at home so do let me know if I can do anything.”

You press your lips together and nod. Could you ask her to make Thor leave you alone? Or to make Mr. Laufeyson a little less stormy? No, but you suppose you could ask for some chamomile before bed.

She takes you through the grand foyer and into the next room, winding around to the elaborate dining room and the back entryway that opens onto an equally awe-inspiring veranda. The railings are wrapped in ivy and flowers, marble pots on plinths hold bunches of gardenia and the big square table at the center has four chairs on either side. Much too big for the meagre party at it.

As you approach, you see Mr. Laufeyson’s shoulders, straight and stiff as he grips the armrests. He glares across at Thor who smiles dopily at the sky. As you get closer, his eyes find you and you wilt down. Frigga draws you onward as Odin stands from the table to offer you the chair beside him.

“There she is,” he says, “come, sit.”

You obey, claiming the seat to his right as Frigga skirts around to take his right. Laufeyson sits along the side just to your own right and leans forward as you wiggle in the chair. He gives you a look and you bow your head slightly.

“What do you like? Milk? Sugar? Honey?” Odin offers as he pours a cup and places it on a saucer before you.

“Just milk,” you answer.

Thor puts his arm on the table as you feel him watching you. Laufeyson clears his throat but his brother doesn’t acknowledge him. You look down at the tea as it clouds with dairy.

“Isn’t this nice?” Thor booms, “I apologise, I was errant yesterday and hadn’t a moment to welcome you.”

You flinch and Laufeyson squeezes the armrest tighter, bristling visibly.

“Now,” Odin sits back, “boys, this is a special week for your mother. She’s working hard, you will not ruin this.”

“Wouldn’t dare think of it,” Thor puffs, “I was only being polite and welcoming the little maid.”

Little maid… the words make you recoil.

“Little maid?” Odin echoes, “don’t be so demeaning. She has a name or perhaps she should call you the big oaf.”

Thor tilts his head and snorts, peering between you and his father. “Forgive me, I thought that’s what she was.”

“Regardless, she is a person and a guest. You will remember your manners,” Odin reproaches.

“Yes, father,” Thor utters dryly and receives a sigh in return.

“Oh, let’s not spoil such a lovely day,” Frigga chimes, “isn’t it so nice to be all together ag–”

“Ugh, must the sun shine so goddamn bright,” the silty voice undergirds Frigga’s chirp. You look over as Hela struts in, a large pair of geometric sunglasses over her eyes, “remind me next time not to finish the bottle.”

“Hel,” Odin greets curtly as Frigga blinks in surprise.

“When did you arrive?” Frigga asks, “Hilde didn’t say.”

“I slept in my car,” Hela answers and struts to the table, sitting next to Laufeyson, “well, I woke up there, at least.”

“Oh my,” Frigga mutters.

“I got here early though,” Hela preens, “when’s that ever happened, mother? And all for Walpurgisnacht, though I guess Midsommar is some time off.”

“Yes, very timely,” Frigga agrees softly, “well, you can come along with us to town. You’ve always had a keen eye.”

“Oh, I may,” Hela smirks, “who is us?”

Frigga looks at you and you give a tiny wave. Hela grins and takes off her sunglasses, winking at you, “I almost didn’t notice the little mouse. Well, I think I shall join you.” She squints and shades her face before putting the glasses back in place, “tell me we have some breakfast wine.”

“Have some tea,” Odin insists, “and a bit of decency.”

[hwaflms]

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚! ⭒ bf!yuta x reader 𖦹  𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘! ⭒ fluff 𖦹  𝗪𝗖! ⭒ 0.861k 𖦹 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦! ⭒ none! 𖦹  𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦! ⭒ just a short drabble bc i rly enjoy writing these days <3

[ ☆ 4:37 p.m ] sunlight bleeds through the half-drawn curtains of yours and bf!yuta's shared apartment. the sky is clear, birds are singing and yuta even hums along to some tune playing in his head. you can hear the kids from the apartment below splashing away in the pool, squeals and giggles echoing against the walls. all of these features point to the perfect day to spend outdoors.

which is exactly what you wanted to be doing. deciding earlier in the day that you would go for a walk at around 4:30 p.m, when the time came around, yuta had already put his outside shoes on, water bottle in hand. you would have joined him had it not been for this terrible headache of yours.

you had spent the last half an hour on the couch trying to fight your headache while yuta napped in your bedroom. you had turned over in every position, flipped your cushion over a number of times, even tried blocking out all the sounds from outside with your eyes closed, but to no avail. you had taken a pill for it earlier, but this one was persistent, the dull thud throbbing away inside your head while you lay there trying to numb the pain.

"aww", yuta cooes, finally noticing that you hadn't moved from the couch. "what happened, angel?"

sensing your discomfort, he plops down on the couch in the space between the arm rest and your feet, placing a hand on your calf. "head hurts...", you mumble into the material of the couch, bring a hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose. yuta makes another sympathetic sound and begins asking you a couple standard questions, such as ‘did you take something for it?’ and ‘have you drank enough water today?’, replying ‘yes’ to all of them.

if this was a regular headache, the pill you took should’ve kicked in by now, but still you lay on the couch, feeling lethargic as ever. looking at the leaves blowing outside with the faint breeze through the window, you try to sit up out of slight guilt but end up feeling groggy and soon, yuta’s gentle but firm arms are helping you lie back down.

“i don’t think i have the energy to go for a walk, babe”, you mumble into the pillow, feeling flushed and sticky all of a sudden. he brings his hand up to your forehead to try and check your temperature, biting his lip in concentration. “i can’t tell if you’re burning up or if my hand is just warm…”, he mutters more to himself than you, but he soon starts talking his shoes off, so it’s pretty much decided that neither of you are leaving the house today. “i may be getting a cold.”

yuta excuses himself to the bedroom for a couple minutes and returns with a damp hand towel and a blanket, lifting your head up ever so gently to seat himself, like you’re made of porcelain. the action makes you giggle weakly but you push yourself up anyway, making space for your boyfriend who softly coaxes your head on to his lap.

his hand immediately finds itself smoothing out your hair, fingers carding through it while you hum appreciatively. this new position is ten times more comfortable than your previous one, head resting easy on yuta’s thighs while he delicately massages your scalp, applying the right amount of pressure. “thank you…”, your voice is a little muffled due to your cheek being squished against his leg, but he recognises the tiredness behind it and the way your eyes droop a little.

yuta adjusts himself so he can reach over to grab the blanket on the coffee table and rest his back against the sofa better, but your eyes are closed and the movement makes you think he’s trying to get up, eyes shooting open immediately. “shh…”, his hands fly back to your hair, leaning down to pepper your face with kisses– your nose, cheeks, eyelids and temple are all victims of the attack. “i’m not going anywhere, baby, relax…”

“mm, don’t want you to catch my cold, if i have one”, you argue feebly, but make no move to get up from his lap, to which yuta replies, “we can be sick together, it’s okay.” remembering the damp towel, yuta folds it one, two, three times before brushing the stray hairs off your forehead and placing it on the warming surface, instantly feeling a sense of relief from the cool material. he smiles softly when he hears you sigh contently, snuggling yourself into him even more when his fingers return to your scalp.

“i’m gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that”, you warn him slightly incoherently, but you know he understands you because he chuckles a little, dragging his knuckles across the expanse of your cheek endearingly. “that’s the idea, babe. i’ll carry you to bed later, don’t worry.”

and that’s how your afternoon goes, wrapped up in a warm blanket while the throbbing in your head minimises little by little, yuta’s soft hands playing with your hair absentmindedly as your eyes become droopier.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Includes mentions of alcohol, reader has some insecurities surrounding her body, oral (f receiving) vaginal sex, lots of romance.

Summer was over, and you couldn’t have been more pleased. Unseasonably warm temperatures had made the past few months in Hawkins feel miserable, unless you were indoors with air conditioning. You’d made good use of the portable fans Hopper had placed around the cabin, particularly the small one at your bedside. This morning was the first day you hadn’t had to use it in awhile. Waking up without a layer of sweat on your body and the sheets had felt like an unexpected luxury. Now, you were walking through the forest beside Hopper, enjoying the first cool day in weeks, looking for a nice spot to set down your picnic supplies and have some lunch.

Hopper paused for a moment just ahead of a clearing. Thin streams of sunlight cascaded through the leaves above you both, creating a cozy atmosphere. “This looks like the spot,” Hopper grinned down at you. He sat the picnic basket on ground, the cold beers inside clinking. You unrolled the blanket together and made yourselves comfortable, you sitting cross-legged with a sandwich in hand, and Hopper stretched out on his side, propping himself up on one of his elbows as he ate and drank a few of the beers.

Hopper’s tolerance for alcohol was pretty damn high and usually, he would barely be feeling its effects only three beers in. But today, Hopper found himself being persuaded to act on his carnal instincts…by both the encouragement of his beer and the scooped neckline of your dress, the way your tits looked so damn soft peeking out over the fabric. The dress was probably a size too small, fit you just a little too snug; but that’s exactly the way Hopper wanted it. He hated when you covered yourself up in baggy clothes, hiding your shape away under layers of fabric and shame. Hopper respected your choices, of course, knowing of your struggles with self acceptance and with viewing your body in a positive light. He always encouraged you to see yourself the way he saw you-as a literal goddess he considered himself unworthy to call his own-but understood that the negative messages you’d received your whole life about your body, and women’s bodies in general, could take a long time to unlearn. In the meantime, Hopper would remind you of your perfection, and happily look forward to the day when you could love yourself the way he already did.

His eyes were lingering on your chest, and you’d definitely begun to notice. “Is there something on my chest?” you asked, playing dumb. You dipped your head to inspect yourself, pretending to look for crumbs. Hopper’s eyebrows lifted, a little smirk turning his lips in response to your question. “Nothin’ yet,” he replied with a husky drawl, a light sheen of sweat glistening his forehead. “Could change that, if you want…”

Hopper shifted closer, extending his hand to stroke your arm. “All this cool, fresh air,” he murmured. “S’got me feeling things…” You pursed your lips, glancing over at the three empty beers. “Are you sure it’s only the air?” you teased, and Hopper shook his head at you, grinning. “Smart ass,” he muttered, tugging you closer. He loomed over you, swallowing your body up under his like a bear and its prey. You giggled as he nestled his face in the plush center of your breasts, peppering kisses across your cleavage. Things took a turn quickly when you felt Hopper’s cock stiffening against your inner thigh. Your body responded immediately, a fluttering pulse between your legs expressing your need as well. Hopper waited to make sure you had no objections to his going further. When you nodded softly and curved yourself into the outline of his cock through his jeans, Hopper had all the answer he needed.

He parted his lips over one of your breasts, gently sucking at the fat blooming over the neckline of your dress. He slipped his fingers beneath the fabric and tugged it downward, your breasts spilling out of your dress and into Hopper’s hands and mouth. He groped and sucked at the soft, plump flesh he adored, his teeth skimming your nipple just lightly enough to make you shiver, your back arching to force your tit between his lips. Hopper closed his lips around your nipple, pulling rhythmically at the peaked, tender bud, flicking the tip of his tongue across its center and making you whine.

His cock throbbed against your pussy, pressed against the now-soaked fabric of your cotton panties. Hopper rutted himself lazily into the puffy outline of your cunt, swollen and slippery as he massaged himself against your lips. Hopper released your breast with a low growl at the back of his throat, his broad chest rumbling against your body where they were pressed together, inseparable. You curved your hips upward to meet his thrusts, silently begging Hopper to fuck you. Your cunt was weeping against the thick bulge of his erection through his jeans, your panties soaked to transparency where your bodies were joined. Hopper reached a hand between your legs to feel the slippery texture of what he could already smell, your cum slicking his fingers as another low growl rumbled animalistic and carnal from his chest.

Hopper left your breast and moved down your body, forcing the fabric of your dress up your thighs and out of his way. He swiped his tongue across the sopping crotch of your panties, your hips bucking in response, a whimper escaping your lips as he sank his mouth over your clothed, puffy clit, and began to suck.

Your head pressed back against the picnic blanket, leaves crunching underneath your body as you twisted and rut against Hopper’s mouth. His fingers sank into the soft meat of your hips, kneading the plump flesh that bulged from the sides of your panties. Hopper toyed with your clit deliciously, alternating between flicking the sensitive bead with his tongue and tugging it persistently between his lips with a pressure that had your thighs clamping down around his head as you lost control of your body. Hopper held your waist down, forcing you to stay in place for him as your climax rippled through your body and sent you tumbling into ecstasy. Waves of pleasure lifted you higher and higher, swooping you down and right back up again as Hopper’s mouth locked in place against your clit. When you finished crying and shaking, Hopper climbed back up your body, his slick lips finding yours in a warm, tender kiss. He gently stroked back the hair that had fallen over your forehead in your exertion. “I love you baby,” Hopper whispered, his breath scented of you. “I love you so fuckin’ much…”

He rose to his knees, kneeling over you, his big hands working his belt undone. Your eyes wandered dreamily over this big, beautiful man, a man who was all yours and simultaneously surely too much for any one woman to handle; and yet, he belonged to you alone. Hopper loosened the zipper on his jeans, a damp patch of his precum and your arousal darkening the denim. He wrapped his hand around his cock with a groan, lowering his hips back into position between your legs. With his other hand, Hopper hooked a finger beneath the glossy crotch of your panties, and pulled it aside. He pulled the tip of his cock between your folds, his chest dipping in awe at the beautiful, slick sounds your pussy made, bathing the head of his cock in the sweet syrup of your cunt, knowing you made it just for him. Hopper poised himself at your entrance, his arms coming to rest around your shoulders. With his eyes fixed on yours, Hopper eased his hips forward. Your tight, sopping hole accepted Hopper’s fat cock with a loud, wanton squelch, a groan leaving both your lips and his at the pressure of him filling you, the grip of your perfect cunt sucking him in, begging him, deeper. Hopper obliged your need, catered to the desire inside you that raged as wild and as untamed as his own. His hands clawed marks in the dirt, fistfuls of leaves clutched in his grip as he lost himself in yours, burrowing deep in the warm bed of your sex. The tears of pleasure running down your cheeks reflected the gold in the leaves overhead. Hopper pressed his lips to your wet, burning skin, stealing away each of the golden teardrops in a kiss.

He fucked you hard and soft in thick, heavy thrusts, grinding your back into the blanket and the leaves beneath it flat. When Hopper came, he shouted, a desperate and carnal groan of release that only the other animals around you were witness to. His cock emptied hot and thick against your cervix. The contractions of a second orgasm gripped Hopper’s cock in rhythmic spasms, draining every last drop of cum from his heavy, satisfied cock.

You wiped away the last of the tears painting your face, as Hopper pulled you into his arms to hold you. The thundering beat of his heart against your cheek was deep and steady like the sound of horses’ hooves galloping across a field. You held onto that image as Hopper held onto you, gently drifting to sleep inside his arms… 🍂

@sarge-barnes-sir @mrshopper84 @umnitsa @frickatives @munchkin1923 @maladptivedaydreaming @her-fandom-sanctum @stvolanis

[evanescencelovrr]

Part 6 of college!simon x reader 🤍✉️ god the way he does anything and breathes—okay pls comment and reblog to share love 🥺

Masterlist here ✉️

He couldn’t sleep. The memories of your kind gesture played over and over in his mind. The way your scent lingered for just a second when you leaned in to put to next to his leg—and then how you walked off, earmuffs sitting snug.

What kinda’ sorcery was this?

Simon had to ask himself, brows furrowed. An arm was flexed, hand under his head, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling uselessly. His box fan spun loudly, sounding smooth in the dark of the night. When his eyes shifted from the ceiling, to his window, revealing the campus walkways, then his desk, there was your cup, lipstick marks slightly faded and empty.

He did drink it all.

Was it his fault the damned thing tasted so good? He didn’t even know those things tasted heavenly. Packed fulla’ sugar too. But it was fine. He trained hard and long—the sugar would be outta his system in less than a second.

When he checked his cracked phone, it was 3am. He had classes at 9am, and groaned softly. Blonde eyelashes brushed his cheek as he attempted to close his eyes, nestling in his bed. His hunky form had a hard time sleeping on it, the bed too small. Sometimes his leg would slip off in the night, or arm, hanging lazily. Blankets would fall to the floor and pillows.

Simon was a picky sleeper.

Back at base, Johnny always had been taking pictures of Simons sleeping form. He’d cackle in the morning as Simon arose, mask on, wearing all black for the briefing meeting. Making a pot of coffee—hearing Johnny’s bickering, along with Price.

“Lieutenant—this a nice sight fa’ sore eyes, aye?” Johnnys thick accent rung out like alarm bells behind Simon who remained flat faced. He sipped his black coffee.

“That one needs a swaddle—aye?”

“Shut it, not another word.” Simon said roughly at Price and Johnny who grinned silently.

Simon eventually fell asleep to the memory.

——

When he made his way out for class—somethin’ about enlightenment and Kant versus Hume—he saw your door. He shoved the key in his lock, hearing a click. His head was craned to yours—were you up?

His lip tilted in a grin for the morning as he remembered your gesture. He wasn’t sure what to make of you yet. Was he trying to make something of you? The thought shook him.

Was he attempting to get to know you?

Part of Simon wanted to reel and flee, at the idea. All he ever knew was base and team 141. It was his comfort zone. A tight knit ship at that. And you—you were like the moon beckoning the ship at night. Full of secrets.

“Huh. Best leave er’ be.” He’d mutter and walk off.

Later on, grabbing food at one of the many dining halls, Simon managed to find a seat upstairs. Not ideal, as it wasn’t close to the exit but instead by a window. He did sit angled to see the exit—as usual. He was going to lift his mask to eat the salad when a girl spoke up.

“Do you always leave that on? The mask?” When he looked up, he saw a short blondie. Cherub cheeks and big eyes.

Roughly, he set his fork down on the plate—CLANK—and sent a glare her way, muttering, “Wots’ it to ya?”

She scampered off, leaving Simon to stew for a second. Damn bloody hounds. It’s a damn mask, ensuring his privacy. What was so hard to respect about that?

And then he thought back to you. You hadn’t pressed on about the mask nor asked of his scars. It was as if you’d seen him as a person beyond it. He chewed at his salad with a glare of focus, turning his head out the window. He felt slightly guilty scaring off the poor lass, she seemed much younger than him after all.

Kids. He had to remind himself. He was much older and all age ranges existed. He forgot not everyone was a war criminal at the age of 33 and 50, scarred.

Not everyone was a war princess.

When he turned his head over, he saw a fluff of hair sticking out. Then ear muffs, trailing down to a red soft leather jacket. It was worn and faded, giving it that vintage look. There you were. Sitting back facing him, eating just a salad and off to the side—pasta.

He didn’t say anything, but just watched for a minute. He then turned back to his plate, finishing off the scraps as students poured in. As usual at this hour. His eyes shifted to glance particularly at a rugged boy, holding his backpack strap with a sleazy walk in your direction. His grip tightened on his fork.

He then heard a plate clank behind him, and a voice rang through the air, “You got that work done I asked for?”

When his eyes glanced to his rear flank, he saw the rugged boy leaned over the table, fingers splayed on the table over you.

You cut into your chicken, not sparring him a glance. “I said I’d have it done, didn’t I?”

Clearly the rugged puppet didn’t enjoy that response—because he leaned closer and his shaggy hair blew slightly, revealing narrowing eyes. You glared.

Simon knew something was wrong. He already sniffed the bullshit a mile away. He got up, smoothly, resting his fork and stood behind you, hand resting on the edge of your chair. He felt you stiffen up in confusion—turning to look at him. But he never removed his eyes from the skimpy lad.

“Simon—“ You said.

“You got a problem, boy?” Simons guarded voice rang out, and the students watched on. Some went quiet, and all he could head were subtle forks clanking—slurping. It was like tunnel vision—everyone focused on you.

The boy leaned up, swallowing and shaking. His eyes were narrowed and Simon didn’t like that one bit—so he leaned forward, hands bracing on the back of your chair, looming over you just to get a closer look to him. Almost like a silent threat.

The entire time your heart was pounding a million miles, face heating up. Attention was drawn to you and you didn’t want it. You had half a mind to run—but Simon held your chair there.

“She said she’ll ave’ the work done, yea? So off wit’ it.” Simon said, not leaving room for argument.

The boy ran off, not even bothering to pick up his plate which made Simon scoff. He then sat next to you, plate landing beside yours. He shoved away the boys plate, quite roughly at that—he wasn’t going to leave you to the wolves. Everyone went back to their food, muttering.

When you found your breath you spoke, “I had that handled, you know.”

“Did ya’?” Simon said gruffly, hunched and picking at his chicken to bite. He didn’t sound rude, just slightly amused and still ruffled from the situation.

Your brow cocked and you looked at him. You looked confused—not sure of what to think when it came to him, and his intentions.

“He looked like he was gonna bite ya.” Simon added, although he knew the boy was skin and bone. He just wanted you to understand. His head lifted to pierce his gaze into yours.

You caressed your fork for a moment, thumb stroking.

“I would’ve bit back. I got some spunk in me after all.” You scoffed and shook your head, although grinning slightly. You bit into your pasta, which was mediocre for university food.

“I’d like to see ya put em’ in its place.”

“It?”

“It. Not even a man, balls avent’ dropped yet. Damned dog just breathin’ down on women.” Simon muttered, cup raising to brush his lips.

You had to bite back a laugh at his roasts. He was right though. Damned boy clearly didn’t know his place. You ears warmed slightly under the muffs and you could’ve sworn it was from the muffs itself.

Simon finished his food and then looked at you, leaning back in his chair. Arms crossed round’ his broader chest, blue eyes not leaving you. He then remembered how the boy demanded for work to be done—not that he gave the boy his mind—“What kinda’ trouble found ya?”

“I—“ You began. You chewed before speaking., eyes shifting away, “I just get payed to do…people’s assignments.”

Simon tutted and shook his head slowly, then leaned forward, bracing his elbows on the table to gaze closely at you. You could make out his pupil, blonde thick lashes curling out, the eye bags from under the mask—and wrinkles. “Out here doin’ gods work, aye?”

“Damn right. But if I’m caught that’ll end badly for me.” You scoffed, rubbing your wrist in a self soothing manner.

“You’re desperate aren’t ya?”

“I need the money—“

“Then come work with me.”

You froze. You jerked your head up at his smooth request, tongue poking at your cheek, pondering.

“Work…with you?” You then repeated.

“It ain’t a request—I’m telling ya.”