#took off my door handle and side mirror

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer confessing to an artist reader

・❥ Lucifer gets jealous, and has to prove his love for you

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

x: WOW this was a rollercoaster to write. Alastor being petty, a musical number, and.. 😏 you’ll have to read and see!

warnings: Mild swearing

“Mreow?” 

You stirred slightly under the covers in your bed, waking from the noise. You were so warm and cozy, in your little nest of pillows that you hugged to your chest. Stilling yourself, you strained your ears, listening for whatever had awoken you.

“Mreooow,” came that needy, animalistic cry again.

“KeeKee?” You whispered hoarsely.

A high-pitched chirp answered your question.

Grumbling in protest, you grasped the sheets and pulled them from your face. Squinting at the morning light emanating from the large windows on the other end of the room. 

You rubbed a hand down your face, in an attempt to squeeze out the exhaustion still fogging your mind. With a sigh, you pivoted, placing your feet on the cold, wood floor beneath.

Now where was that furball? 

You scanned the room, before your eyes landed on the small black and white cyclopean cat. She sat on your nightstand, her tail swishing with happiness as you answered her call. 

“You silly kitty, what do you want so early in the morning?” You questioned her, and received another chirp as a response.

You always found it fascinating that the small feline was actually the key to the hotel, created by Lucifer’s magic as a gift to Charlie when she took over the place. 

You could feel it, even now, that warm crackle of energy as it flowed off KeeKee’s fur. It was faint, but so familiar. If you buried her face in her fur far enough, you could even smell traces of his scent. 

As you and Lucifer grew closer, so did KeeKee. She had started following around the hotel, always a few steps behind as you traveled the halls. This morning routine of hers wasn’t new either. Before, you’d open your door and find her sprawled out on the ground on her back, her belly exposed as she greeted you. 

You started leaving your door cracked after that, allowing her to enter whenever she pleased. She’d make her bed on the same cushion Lucifer was so fond of while you painted, and drift into sleep. 

Sometimes, you’d use her for practice sketches. Although you could only do so while she dreamed, as she was not as good at sitting still as Lucifer was.

It was almost as if she sensed the connection between the two of you, mirroring your bond with her own loyalty. With a soft smile, you reached out to pet KeeKee, feeling the comforting vibrations of her purrs resonating through your fingertips. 

Rising from the bed, you made your way into the small bathroom. Twisting the sink handle, you let the fountain of water flow into the drain as it is heated. 

Your eyes landed on the object next to the faucet, and you smiled unconsciously as you picked up the yellow rubber ducky. 

“Your new soap dispenser,” Lucifer had stated one evening, “Easily compactible to take it on the go and.. with the scent of apple pie.” 

He demonstrated by softly squeezing the sides of the toy, and a small glob of soap left its mouth and landed into the palm of his hand. 

You had taken it from him and lifted it to your nose, inhaling a deep breath. 

“Delectable.” You teased, before placing it on the table beside you.

After his little performance at the art studio, Lucifer’s affection towards you grew bolder by the day. He often arrived at your room with a gift or two, even more than his silly little ducks. 

Once, he brought you a small violin, the color pure angelic white with golden strings. You had stared at it in awe when he set it on the table.

“It’s white for you to paint,” Lucifer had explained, “Whatever little fantastical ideas you have to cover this instrument with, I just know it’ll be amazing.”

You had blushed, before letting your fingers glide across its smooth surface. Tracing its frame, memorizing its shape. 

“I was going to get you a fiddle, like my own. But, I believe this best suits the musical pieces you are so familiar with.”

You sat across from each other at the dining table in your room, arms resting lazily on its surface as you sipped from your glass of Spiced Apple Wine. 

That was another gift he had brought you. Claiming he only enjoyed the taste of fine-aged wine from his personal cellar. You had gotten used to its slightly sour taste by now, but you were glad for that slight pinch on your tongue. It kept you from ogling Lucifer for too long.

The only light emanating from your room was the candles placed around you, their flames dancing, casting shadows across the walls. The soft ting of piano keys thrummed in the air, flowing from a small brown radio on your dresser.

Not too long ago, Alastor had given it to you for your personal use. A very rare gift from a demon like him. You had just assumed it was his way of getting you on his side, your unease of him must’ve been apparent enough. 

Your years of attempted swindling by potential buyers for your pieces created a sixth sense, the ability to smell when someone’s words didn’t echo their intentions.

Even though you had no animosity towards him, and spoke to him frequently enough that you did not feel any kind of negative intentions from him, his mysterious past and psychopathic tendencies struck you as odd. His presence was dark and cold. 

Nothing like Lucifer’s, who’s aura was so warm and energetic you could get drunk off of it. 

Alastor’s? That would sober you up in an instant.

Why didn’t you feel the same about Lucifer? After all, he had the same charm that swooped those around him off their feet. 

‘His ability to love,’ you concluded in your head, ‘that was why.’

He showed deep care for the people close to him, while Alastor always held people at arms-length. Literally and figuratively.

Your personal feelings didn’t mean you weren’t going to use the radio, so whenever you’d hear Lucifer nearing your room, you’d switch it to polka. Learning by now that was one of his favorite genres. It played in the background as you discussed the violin.

“I think it’s best if you taught me how to play, I might have some knowledge on musical history, but that doesn’t mean I know anything about the instruments themselves.” You had conceded.

He shook his head at that, “Nonsense. If there is anyone I know that could pick up skills like this quickly, it would be you.”

“What makes you think that?” You had laughed.

“Because, you’re amazing. Talented, with passion that could take on the world. You and my daughter have more in common than you think. A drive that I wish I had.”

That had stopped your train of thought, your cheeks heating once more. Most times you would try to brush off his comments, and continue on to the next subject, even if those words made it hard for you to fall asleep that same night.

But this time, you let his words linger in the air between you. The faint glow from the candles illuminating his face, his angelic features intensifying. 

It was your turn to make a move, you couldn’t let him have all the fun.

Slowly, your hand traveled across the table, until your fingers grazed his own. Lucifer never pulled back, instead, he accepted your advance. Lacing his fingers with your own.

The two of you didn’t speak, you didn’t need to. The day could be filled with laughter and quick-wits. But, the night? That belonged to your silent bouts of affection.

Just two pairs of eyes staring out through the large open bay windows, the flickering lights from the city your own little TV. 

What was he thinking about? You had wondered. You were aware of the divorce of his wife years ago, and the fracture of his family still weighed on him. Even if his relationship with Charlie was improving the day. Did he blame himself for his family splitting? 

You had never pried him on such things, there was no reason to bring him more pain. He’d open up about it when he was ready, he always did.

Was that why he was slow to actually ask for your kindness? Your care? 

Your love? 

He was a showman, with a drive to impress strangers around him, to win them over with his charm and flare. But you weren’t a stranger, not anymore. 

There was this tiny parasite that gnawed at the back of your mind, whispering such horrid things of him leaving you if you made the first move. 

‘His pride is too great to let him be swooned completely by a lower demon,’ it hissed, ‘He just wants something casual, nothing truly real,’

Was that true? Would he reject you and move on? Surely, there were much stronger, much smarter demons than you in Hell that he could choose. 

Maybe, you’d just have to grow a backbone and ask him. 

‘Soon’, you promised.

The calming scent that wafted from the candles around the room pulled you away from such thoughts. Instead, you used your free hand to lift the wine glass to your lips, downing the remaining liquor. Your body blooming with warmth as it traveled down your throat, and your head turning fuzzy with bliss. 

A gentle thump as KeeKee landed on the counter pulled you back to reality. You finished washing your face, and placed it into the cool embrace of the small towel in your hands.

Turning away from the sink, you walked back into the main room. KeeKee trailed you as you rummaged through your dresser, plucking out items of clothing as you began to change for the day. 

“Come, KeeKee,” You called, clicking your tongue at her as you strided to the doorway of your room. 

She responded with a chirp and raced past you, out into the hallway. You watched her scurry down the stairs as you headed for the lobby. You were supposed to finish the season of RuGaul’s Drag Race this morning with Angel Dust, and honestly, it was a pretty good show.

Unfortunately, the raised bump in the carpet right in front of your foot had other plans.

“Fuck!” You hissed as you fell forward, your arms instinctually raising to catch your fall.

You hit the ground with an oomph. Luckily, you caught yourself in time to not face any serious injury. Except the sting of your pride. You lay there defeated for a moment, the ache in your arms subsiding slowly.

“Well, hello down there, my friend!” Came a familiar call, static trickling from their voice.

 “Hello, Alastor.” You greeted the Radio Demon with a painful sigh. 

“It appears you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a pickle, hm? Let me help you with that.” 

Black tendrils gathered around you, they were unnaturally cold and you squirmed against their touch. 

They tightened around you and lifted you up, up, and up until the soles of your feet were steady on the ground. They flowed off of you, disappearing like a shadow into Alastor’s form.

“Thank you, Alastor. That was very kind of you,” you spoke as you brushed dust off your clothes. You’d need to talk to Nifty about coming to your side of the building more often to clean. 

“It was no problem, my friend. I could not just sit by and allow you to take such an attitude from that silly carpet.” 

Alastor snapped his fingers, and the tiny lump in the carpet that had delivered the tripping blow vanished. Leaving behind a nice, smooth surface.

His head snapped back up to you, that large smile still plastered on his face. You were about to open your mouth again when his gaze landed on something behind you, past the railing.

“Ah, I see you have finished another one of your paintings! What a wonderful piece this is, yes, truly remarkable!” 

He walked forward, and placed one hand on the railing. On the opposite side of the room, at eye level to the second floor, was a painting depicting a very large, glittering lake. A tall forest surrounded it, with massive snowy mountains as the backdrop. 

Small winged-angels sat near the waters, feasting on grapes and wine as they enjoyed the summer sun. Some stood near white-freckled fawns as they fed them fruits and nuts, their faces lit in joyful smiles. 

“Yes, it took me forever. Water is a pain to get perfect. Do you.. think it fits?” 

“Of course it does, my dear!” His enthusiastic voice not missing a beat, “I think Charlie choosing you for this job was a marvelous choice! You must have taken much inspiration from some of the classic artists.. Perhaps Edgar Payne?”

A look of surprise crossed your face. He knew about the famous western landscape artist? Alastor didn’t seem like a fine arts kind of man to you.

“I used some of his techniques, yes. I didn’t know you had such knowledge, Alastor.” You responded, a hint of questioning in your tone. Prompting him to speak more about the subject. 

Alastor waved his hand in the air in a brushing motion, as if it was no big deal.

“Oh, here and there. When I was alive hosting my radio show I once toured an art gallery for an advertisement. His pieces were on display, and I suppose his work has been imprinted in my mind ever since.”

“That’s very interesting, actually. I shouldn’t be surprised though, you seem to be in favor of many classic mediums.” 

“Mm, yes. I just can’t stand the way modern society has seemed to falter from its most creative forms. I’m sure soon they’ll just start paying robots up there to make art for them.”

You doubted that, people using robots to make art? What was the point of it if not created by the human hand?

It was then you caught his eyes darting to something behind you, towards the staircase. Did his eye just twitch?

Alastor’s toothy grin widened further, which you thought couldn’t be possible. Before you could turn around and get a look at whatever had captured his attention, his gaze landed back on you.

He quickly sidled much closer to you, and placed his free hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened at the touch, he’d never been brazen like this before. Let alone being this close to you. 

Suddenly, he let out a loud, boisterous laugh at nothing particular. His head slightly shook from side to side like he just heard the funniest story in his life, which made you lean back slightly at his very odd actions.

“Oh, my dear, you are such a charm. Truly. I always enjoy our little talks about your ideas. You are so very passionate about your work.” 

Your eyebrows raised in suspicion at his behavior. What was this man up to? 

“We should definitely continue our talks sometime, perhaps, in the comfort of your study?” He questioned, placing his other hand on your shoulder, “Maybe, you could even teach me some of that history you have trapped in your noggin, mmm what was that era called.. the Renaissance?”

Your mouth parted slightly as you contemplated his words. He wanted to learn from you? You had never graced anyone with your teachings other than Lucifer, and you kind of liked it that way.

“Well.. I don’t know if-”

“Ahem.” Came a familiar, male voice from behind the two of you. 

Your words caught in your throat. Uh oh.

You watched Alastor’s grin deepen into a knowing smirk. His eyes snapping to the figure behind you, eyebrows raised. 

You pivoted, seeing the familiar pale face staring intensely at you, practically into your soul. You tried to smile at him, your teeth clenched painfully as you stood besides Alastor. His hand still on your shoulder. 

You tried to speak through your eyes, desperately trying to tell him this was not something you had asked for. You weren’t sure whether he could read it.

Lucifer’s gaze diverted to the hand on your shoulder, and you could feel a crackle of scorching hot energy in the air around you.

“Why, hello there, your majesty.” Alastor greeted him with mock enthusiasm. 

“What a surprise to see you here,” Lucifer responded, a slight growl in his voice. He straightened his back, leaning slightly forward on his staff, as though the scene before him was not a bother. He was terrible at hiding it though. 

“Indeed. My dear friend and I were just discussing their paintings, aren’t they a wonder?”

“Of course they are.” Lucifer responded. 

“We have such good conversations, you know, about their vast knowledge on the subject. It makes me envious really.” 

He released your shoulder from his grasp, and you scooted an inch away from him. 

“Perhaps, one day, you would care to join us? But I'm sure their line of work isn’t something you are interested in, hm?” Alastor’s words left his lips, and Lucifer’s teeth bared at that.

Alastor’s smile intensified as his own energy filled the room, an invisible dual of power was beginning to emerge between the two demons. It reminded you of what happened when Lucifer had arrived at the hotel for the first time, when they had fought for the position as Charlie’s father figure. 

Alastor wasn’t an idiot though, Lucifer could eradicate him at any moment. Was just simply irritating the fallen angel his only motivation?

Was Alastor’s initial conversation with you just to pull the strings of what was happening now? Did he know Lucifer was coming to see you? That sly asshole.

Alastor turned away from Lucifer’s glare, and met your gaze.

“How is that radio doing that I gave you? I hope you’ve been putting it to good use, I was trying my hardest to

think of the perfect gift for you, and I just knew that you would be interested in it.” 

“It was.. nice, thank you.. Alastor.” You responded, afraid what would happen if you ignored his question. 

“My pleasure, dear friend. We’ve been through thick and thin, you and I. It’s only right I share with you a piece of my.. admiration towards you.”

Admiration? 

Lucifer stalked up to the two of you, staring daggers in Alastor’s back. Clearing his throat, he let out a dark chuckle.

“I’m sure your little relationship is over-exaggerated,” He said, his tone passive aggressive, “I’ve hardly seen you in the same room together, let alone have such meaningful conversations.”

“But, of course we do! I was there the first day they walked through those doors. I was the one that welcomed them to their new home, and it was I who furnished their room in the first place. Seeing as barely anything has been changed or moved around, it is safe to say our connection is much deeper than you may think.”

You heard Lucifer growl again. His eyes flickering to a shade of red.

“Well, it’s too bad your gift is useless now.” Lucifer hissed, “They have an instrument of their own, which I have provided them.”

Alastor’s ear twitched at that, and he turned to you in mock fascination. 

“Oh, an instrument? Did you know I used to play in a band?” He turned to you, his questions armed with ill intentions, “I would love nothing more than to give you a lesson or two!”

“I am going to teach them, actually.” Lucifer snapped, “I couldn’t imagine the terrible noises that would come from you plucking strings like a tone-deaf banshee.”

Alastor laughed at that before reaching out and grabbing your hand. You had the growing itch to rip it away, but his stare whispered dark things, and you relented. Allowing him to grip your wrist loosely.

“Well, this has been fun, and I would like to continue our talks,” He addressed you, “But I have important business to attend to within the hotel, as your faithful hotelier. Perhaps, later tonight?” 

Your smile faltered for a second, giving him a slight glare. You weren't going to let him think you were falling for his games.

“Such a shame you have so much attention on you from so many others, those demons on the streets really look at you with such enamoration. My word, just practically begging for your attention! If only you would share all your ideas and knowledge with just me, you’d know how fantastic of a listener I am.”

“Others?” Lucifer asked incredulously.

Alastor ignored him, instead, he did something that you never expected.

He gingerly pulled your hand closer to his face, before leaning down slightly and placing a quick peck to your knuckles. You gasped, placing a hand over your mouth to cease it quickly. 

It was meaningless, you could tell. An act to simply further spur on Lucifer’s rage. 

“Why you pompous little fucking-!” Lucifer roared, but was cut off by Alastor’s maniacal fit of giggles.

Suddenly, the red demon evaporated into a large green cloud of smoke. A gust of freezing wind rushed you as he vanished. Behind you, Lucifer’s large hat was carried with the gust of wind, and he was left practically frothing at the mouth, his hair disheveled from the wind. His eyes still a dark sickly-red. 

You strode up to him, placing a hand on his arm. Trying to get him to look at you. 

“I promise you, we were not talking genuinely just then, Lucifer.” 

“Do you have conversations with that creep when i’m not around? Have you been telling him the same things you’ve shared with me?” 

You rolled your eyes, letting out a breath of hot air. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just getting under your skin. I’ve barely spoken with him.”

“What did he mean by ‘others’? You have suitors that i’m not aware of?”

You leaned back, confusion spreading across your face. Was Lucifer.. jealous? Was the thought of other demons trying to get intimate with you.. bothering him?

“What? Well, I don’t know, maybe. It’s not like I-”

“It’s me who knows almost everything about you. I’m the King of Hell, what can anyone offer you that I can’t?”

What was this? He’s never spoken a word about courting you, which is why your feelings towards his affection were mixed. But now, he wants to? 

“And here I thought I could make it to the overlord meeting in time,” He growled. Before his gaze was renewed with fresh determination.

He grabbed your hand, pulling you closer, and snapped his fingers. 

Before you could blink, the area around you melted and transformed into a beautiful restaurant. You were sitting at an oak table, candles lit around you. A wine glass in front of you.

Lucifer materialized at the seat across from you in a very tight, clean black tuxedo with a red bow tie around his neck.

He gave you a playful smirk, before another figure strode to your table. You looked up, and saw.. Lucifer? Again? This time in a classic waiter outfit, an apron tied around his waist. He held a plate of food in one hand, before setting it down before you. 

“You’re favorite dish, catered by yours truly.” Waiter Lucifer spoke confidently.

You looked down at the foodstuff on the plate, your mouth watering. It really was your favorite dish. You reached out to grab it, before you were thrusted into darkness again.

Where were you now?! 

You were sitting on a very comfortable cushioned chair, and as you whipped your head around, noticed that there were rows and rows of the same kind of chairs. 

“What the hell is going on?!” You yelled to the scene, but received no answer. 

Placed in them were more.. Lucifers? They all whooped and cheered, clapping at whatever was in front of you. You turned your head, taking in the sight before you.

It was a lit stage. The curtain was closed, so you were unable to see what was on it. Suddenly, the curtain lifted, and there was Lucifer again, he held a Violin, similar to the one he gave you, but this time in pure gold.

He looked at you before gliding the bow across its strings, the echoes of its chords filling the room. You perked, recognizing its tune.

It was ‘Innsbruck, I must leave thee’! The same one he had asked you about when you caught him humming that one time.

Did he learn it… just for you? Your heart fluttered. Was this grandiose display just him trying to prove that he cared about you and your interests?

It continued for a moment longer, the strings on his instrument singing with raw power. It was a beautiful sound, and for a moment you were lost in it. Emotions from your past bubbling inside of you.

And then, he let go of the violin and it began playing on its own. It floated in the air gracefully as its tune continued. He leapt off the stage and landed right in front of your seat. He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it. 

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of where you would be taken next.

“Luci..” You said, giving him a questioning look.

He only smirked at you, his eyebrows raised playfully. You shook your head, a smile blooming on your face at his theatrics, and laced your fingers with his. 

Instead of being thrown into darkness like before, gold flashed around you as he teleported you somewhere distant.

This time, you were on the roof of a very tall building, you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizziness before taking in the sights around you.

You were in Pentagram city, Heaven high above you, it’s white glow helping to light the rooftop like a stage.

Your hand was still gripping his, and he did not pull away. Neither did you. 

Suddenly, a tune began once more. Unfamiliar this

time, and you twisted your head to find where it was coming from, but to no avail. It seemed to be emanating from the entire space around you.

Was there a faint musical number playing in the background, or was that just your imagination?

Lucifer pulled you closer, his classic red and white hats by vest clung to his frame. His hat and overcoat nowhere in sight.

“Lucifer, what are you…” You trailed off, right as he opened his mouth and started to.. sing.

With treasures untold and riches divine,

I offer you the world, to make you mine.

His voice was like velvet, that boisterous playful demeanor apparent as he circled you around, you turned with him, never releasing his hand. He continued, his eyes never straying from you as he sang.

I can offer you kingdoms, castles of gold,

Mountains of riches, for you to behold,

Diamonds that shimmer, like stars in the night,

With every breath, with every sigh,

I’ll lavish you with riches, until the end of time.

His singing ceased, and you were rushed back into reality. You looked at him in awe, enamored by that pretty voice of his. It was ethereal, just like God has designed him to be.

You stood there for a second, eyes fixed on Lucifer’s hand as it entwined with yours. Your gaze traveling to those big, beautiful golden eyes that practically begged for your response. 

In that moment, as the sun above illuminated his pretty face and his shining hair flowing in the gentle breeze, you realized how much you adored- no, loved this man. 

Summoning all of your willpower, you answered. Your lips parted as your tongue began to form words of your own design. You didn’t call up any lyrics from pieces of past design. These words needed to be yours. Needed to say everything you desired and more. 

I don’t want your magic,

I don’t want your gold,

I want your eyes on me,

Until we grow old, 

The words left your lips, soft and buttery, as your confession rang through the air. You desperately hoped your voice didn’t sound like nails against a chalkboard, that it held some resemblance to his own angelic vocals. 

His eyes widened for a moment, before they softened. A sparkle shining in them that wasn’t there before. 

A genuine, heart-melting smile crossed his face as he listened to your words flowing from your tongue so gracefully, like water cascading from the Fountain of Youth.

You took his other hand, pulling him backwards, as you danced across the narrow rooftop, like ballerinas, your footsteps synced and graceful. 

Suddenly, he turned you towards the edge, your heels mere inches from the ledge of the roof. For a moment, you felt like you’d slip and plunge into the depths, but those eyes of his held you steady in your mind.

Until his wings appeared behind him, beating softly, giving you air as he spun you slightly off the rooftop. A pulse of warm energy hit you, and your legs lifted out from under you. Like you were Jane with your Peter Pan, and his magic fairy dust was going to send you gliding off to Neverland.

For a moment, you felt like you had wings of your own. That feeling of absolute freedom, unchained from the ground as you floated for a moment before Lucifer pulled you back to reality.

Your feet hit the rooftop once more and you were breathlessly aware of your heart beating in your throat. Your gaze snapped back to Lucifer once more, and you felt one of his hands lowering to your hip, the other still entwined with yours.

Lucifer leaned forward, and you with him.  Your back curved into an arch as he leaned above you, your lips inches from brushing against each other. You felt like exploding, those butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach threatening to burst.

Both your mouths opened at once, and your words entwined with his as your lips moved once more.

Your caring touch abundantly clear,

It’s all i’ve ever known,

With you my dear, 

I surely fear,

My heart will never be my own.

As your song ended, you felt your heart and mind clear instantly as your truth had finally been told. The look of pure adoration in his eyes was enough to have you trembling under his touch. 

Lucifer pulled you back onto your feet, his breathing heavy and the feathers on his wings ruffled. 

With both hands on your hips, you reached forward and cupped his face. Heat spread across your body as your fingers grazed across the small wisps of hair that curled around his ears.

“Darling, I-”

Before you could let him finish his sentence, you squeezed your eyes shut, and planted your lips against his. He froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before his hands around your waist tightened and he deepened the kiss.

You moved your hands from his face and instead wrapped your arms around his neck, grasping at his shirt collar with hungry desire.

His scent washed over you, and you drank it in with desperation. A sweet, crisp dose of apple cinnamon mixed with faint traces of roses. You thanked Heaven in that moment, for releasing them from their grasp, and right into your arms down here in Hell. 

Your knees hit the ground the same time as Lucifer’s, and you felt the soft touch of his wings as they wrapped around you. Blanketing the two of you from the prying eyes of all the realms. 

He pressed his face harder into yours as he cupped the small of your back. His teeth grazed the bottom of your lip, and you parted your mouth slightly, locking the two of you together even more intensely. 

His lips left yours, and he planted feverish pecks across your cheek all the way to your earlobe. He bit tenderly on it, and you had to squeeze your lips together to stop from whimpering. He continued, trailing down your neck with hungry kisses, before burrowing his face into your shoulder blade.

You felt his teeth graze the artery in your neck, and you gasped, grasping at his hair desperately as pleasure coursed through your veins. His breath hot against your skin, tickling it.

“Fuck,” You moaned, and his response was to push you farther into bliss as he suckled on your neck. Waves of pleasure hit you once more, and you began to sloppily kiss the top of his shoulder, slightly exposed from your roughhousing.

Lucifer tightened his grip around you, pulling you as flush to his body as he could manage. You both sat there on your knees in a mix of breathless gasps and hums of pleasure.

You did not want this moment to end. Finally, the both of you had opened yourselves up to your true feelings. You smiled at the thought, and planted a kiss on his earlobe as he lifted his head slightly from your neck.

Suddenly, the watch on Lucifer’s wrist buzzed violently, and you heard him curse under his breath.

“Is that for your meeting?” Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Unfortunately,” He grumbled, before switching off the noise. He didn’t move from his position though, and you realized he was going to try and skip out on it.

“You should go.” You spoke, almost a command.

“Why? They’ve been fine without me for this long.”

“You’re the king,” You retorted, meeting his gaze sternly, “Go do your job, i’m not going anywhere.” 

His look of distraught at having to depart sent another wave of butterflies into your body. You couldn’t help but smile before giving him another quick peck on the lips.

“Go.”

“Fine.” 

You both stood up, and his wings uncurled around your body, disappearing into his back. His fingers still with yours, as he reached down for his hat that lay on the ground beside you. You released his grip and fixed his bow tie. Pulling his overcoat back neatly onto his frame, and adjusting it slightly. 

You wiped the sweat off his forehead and smoothed down his hair. Attempting to tidy him up as quickly as you could so he wouldn’t be late. He smiled warmly as you fussed over him.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” You spoke softly, batting your eyelashes at him, “I need a way off this roof.”

He smirked, before grasping his staff and tapping it against the ground. 

A flurry of gold wafted around you, and that same energy tickled at the back of your neck just like it did at the art studio. His face blurring from the cascading waves of warm light that wrapped around you.

“See you soon, My Love,” His voice echoed as your eyes shut and you felt that pull of energy. That feeling of floating on thin air hit you again, as you were warped away. 

“There you are!” Angel dust threw his arms in the air in exasperation a few feet away from you, as the particles of gold that floated above you disintegrated. You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust to the lights in the lobby. 

“Where were you this morning? I had to watch the final episode all by myself!”

Shit. That’s right. You placed a hand on your forehead, berating yourself silently for forgetting. Although you weren’t too regretful about missing out on it for Lucifer.

“I’m so sorry, Angel. I just got.. busy, I guess.”

He shrugged, brushing off his slight irritation. 

“It’s alright, ain’t nobody hurt from it.”

He was going to turn away, towards the bar where Husk was readying drinks for the two of them, before his gaze narrowed in somewhere on your figure.

“Wait, what the fuck is on your neck?” He asked suddenly, his eyes giving you a questioning stare, as he motioned towards it.

You looked at him confused, before reaching up and running a few fingers down the side of your throat. Your eyes flew wide open in surprise, and your hand cupped your mouth as you felt it. Your cheeks set on fire instantly.

Apparently, as a final gift, Lucifer had left a rather large hickey in the crook of your neck. Both Husk and Angel leaned in to get a better look at it, their eyes widening in surprise. 

“That dickhead finally did it, huh?” Husk spoke up, a knowing smirk on his lips as he cleaned glasses behind the bar.

Angel’s eyes lit up in delight, and he squeezed his own cheeks as realization dawned on him.

“Fucking finally! Does that mean you two are a thing now?”

You contemplated for a moment, before meeting Angel’s gaze once more. A smirk growing on your lips. 

KeeKee appeared at your feet, rubbing at your ankles in greeting. You gingerly reached down and picked her up. She was so soft to the touch, and you caught the faint scent of Lucifer once more as she nestled into your chest.

“I guess so,” You finally replied once you situated the cat into your arms, “Now if you excuse me, gentleman, I need a breather.” 

Angel whistled flirtatiously behind you as you walked away, and you couldn’t help the growing heat that hit your cheeks once more.

——

a/n: let me know your thoughts!! i almost didn’t added the little singing bit but i cracked my knuckles and summoned the lyricist in me to have some fun. I mean, it can’t be Hazbin Hotel without a song right?

tag list: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox

[accioscarheadthings]

I was wondering if you could do a Kenji Sato x a curvy goth girlfriend? I'd love to see how that dynamic would play out especially with Emi since the girlfriend looks absolutely terrifying but is actually a big sweetheart who just plays Emi lullabys using her guitar abs reads her Edgar Allan Poe Stories as bedtime stories

Yes, of course, love. I love writing about characters that give off black cat vibes but are a secret sunshine.

this turned out longer than i intended it to be 'cause i couldn't resist.

this was a bit rushed.

also you're my first request♡

I hope my writing lived up to your expectations. enjoy<33

Mama's here

pairing: kenji x gothic!curvy!gf!reader

this contains : fluff, reader and kenji parenting emi, use of petnames (baby, babe, sweetheart, mama)

summary: you help your boyfriend take care of the baby kaiju he took in, and surprisingly bonding well with the creature.

masterlist !

"okay, sweetheart, promise me that you'll not freak out," kenji stood behind you on the elevator that led to his basement, "and you won't be mad at me," he rested his hands on your sides, palm splayed on your love handles.

you gave him a suspicious look over your back, "kenji sato, what did you do?"

"nothin' mama," he kissed your cheek fondly, knowing how soft that nickname got you, "also remember, i love you so much,"

you stared at him for a moment longer, wondering what on earth he was about to reveal to you.

when the elevator doors opened, you were met with a pink baby gigantron in a giant glass cage. it had yellow fins on the sides of its face and the top of its head. plump cheeks, curved yellow beak and round eyes.

it was fast asleep, its chest rising and falling in even breaths. it shifted lightly in its sleep, beak opening and closing in a yawn and a low trill escaped its throat.

as for you, you were still in shock, "son of a bitch!" your mouth fell open.

"shh! you'll wake her up," kenji silenced you, placing his hands on your shoudlers.

"no wonder you were sweet-talking our way down here!" you glared at him, resting your hands at your hips.

"mina," kenji glanced at the ai hovering above you, "back me up, maybe,"

"i was mad when i found out as well. so you're on your own in this one, kenji," mina retorted.

"geez, way to throw me under the bus," he mumbled, throwing his hands up at his sides in exasperation. he stepped closer to you, "look, i didn't know what else to do, okay? her mother-" he halted, lowering his voice so the baby kaiju wouldn't wake, "her mother died when the kdf intervened and tried to take them both down,"

your furious stance dropped at his statement, expression clearing, "oh shit,"

"yeah," he winced, taking a step closer to you, "i couldn't leave her. and i also don't know how to raise a baby," he raised his eyebrows your way in emphasis.

"you think i do?"

"i'm thinking you can help," he spoke, "hands wrapping around your body, his palms running up and down your sides, "please mama?" he blinked down at you with those pleading eyes you could never say no to.

your face twisted in contemplation, as you watched the baby kaiju sleep peacefully. you couldn't deny the spark of affection bloom in you for it.

"alright," you agreed reluctantly.

"yes! thank you!" he sighed, kissing all over your face, and finally on your lips, mouth devouring yours.

your face scrunched up due to his actions, the corner of your lips curving up in a smile. you kissed him back affectionately, resting a palm on the side of his neck.

when kenji pulled back, you noticed your lipstick smeared over his mouth.

this time, you grinned fully.

"what?" he blinked at you cluelessly, his bangs falling over his forehead just right. he was so captivated by your grin that he mirrored you.

you thumbed the stain from his lower lip, "you're a messy kisser, love,"

colour rose to his cheeks as your thumb tugged at his tainted lips, "s'okay. i like it when you leave your mark on me,"

rolling your eyes, you pursed your lips, trying not to be affected by his words.

kenji beamed when pecked his cheek, his hands snaking around your body and finding his place on the soft skin of your waist.

next morning, kenji made the due introductions between you and emi, helping you both be at ease in each other's presence.

kenji chuckled, noticing the baby gigantron's wariness of you. he reached out a hand and spoke soothingly, trying to calm the little creature. "hey girl," he said softly, "it's okay. don't be afraid of y/n here. she's not gonna hurt you. she may look intimidating, but she's a big softie,"

"i'm not a softie," you deadpanned to the side of his face, sending a smoldering look his way.

the baby gigantron chirped weakly, her beady eyes scanning every inch of you in caution.

you stood there, trying to look as non-threatening as possible, despite your dark, gothic appearance. the baby gigantron continued to eye you with some trepidation, its tiny claws grounded to the floor of the basement.

kenji took your hand in his, making you stand in front of him adn ugided your movements, "see? she's a good person,"

the baby gigantron hesitated for a moment, her beady eyes darting back and forth between you and kenji, her eyes taking in your proximity. then, slowly but surely, she inched closer to your outstretched hand.

as the she padded cautiously toward you both, it let out a soft chirrup sound. she seemed intrigued by you, her wariness slowly melting away as she realized you was trustworthy.

kenji moved your hand slowly, maintaining a soothing tone as he made you gently stroke the baby gigantron's soft pink head.

she let out a soft, contented chitter in response, her round eyes closing briefly in delight.

kenji looked back at you with a small smile, "see, babe? she's warming up to you," he said, his voice hushed to avoid startling the creature.

you felt the tension escape you as the kaiju baby leaned into your touch, her body relaxed and trusting. she seemed to have completely forgotten its earlier apprehension of you.

"that's right," kenji urged, "it's just mommy," he referred to you, "she's not gonna hurt you,"

you gave him a weird look, "i'm not her mother, kenji!"

"i'm her daddy, which means you're her mommy,"

as you moved your hand, the baby gigantron perked up at the sound of your bracelet clinking against her head. her eyes widened with curiosity, and it made a soft, inquisitive sound in contemplation, tipping its head to the side.

she seemed to find the sound and the sensation of your touch amusing, and she continued to let you pet her without any further trepidation.

the baby gigantron let out a series of soft, playful chirps, her tiny claws gently batting at your bracelets as she sought to explore the shiny metallic objects even further.

you let out a chuckle at her adorable actions, giving into her as you shook your wrist playfully, making the charms on your wrist jingle with each other.

you were seated on the table at the far end of the basement, flipping through your guitar notes and arranging the sheets in order. 

"get back here," kenji panted, "right now, missy!" he was in ultraman form, struggling to grab hold of the baby kaiju, but she kept dodging him, running between his legs as she giggled her heart out.

kenji mostly took care of the bathing and burping part. while you handled feeding her, turning it into an airplane game.

the baby kaiju cooed at your antics, slowly getting closer to you that she needed to see you every day. you watched over her when kenji went for his games.

you both would watch the broadcast together; you would explain the game to her while the baby kaiju would listen to you in childlike wonder.

kenji came back home from a win, his legs moving as quick as possible as he enveloped you in a giant hug. he snuggled his face into your neck, letting out a breath of ease. you held him against your chest, one hand burying into the back of his head.

kenji struggled to balance baby kaiju care and baseball. without enough rest, he underperformed. but your companionship and support made days easier. your influence helped him manage his roles better and continue pursuing his passion for the game.

he mumbled a bunch of 'thank you' and 'couldn't have done it without you' against your neck, hands wandering your body, grabbing at the softness and worshipping you.

"you were amazing," you brought his face to yours, kissing his forehead in pride.

"mm, thanks babe,"

as you and kenji shared your loving words, the baby gigantron, who was watching intently, couldn't help but let out a soft, curious 'coo' sound.

the little creature seemed to be attracted by the affectionate exchange between you and kenji, drawn in by the gentle words and the laughter that accompanied it.

her beady eyes glittered with interest, and she inched closer to you both, her small paws making no sound on the smooth floor.

she seemed to be attempting to get a closer look at the interaction, intrigued by the emotional connection between you two.

when the baby kaiju fractured her hand after escaping the mansion, kenji called for his father, not knowing who else to ask for help.

professor sato greeted you when he noticed you at the baby kaiju's side, mumbling soothing words of comfort.

she whined at you in pain, eyes closing when you caressed the scales of her tummy. you felt your heart tug at the sight, "you poor thing. it's okay. everything will be okay,"

professor sato jerked her displaced bone back into place, causing her to screech in pain. the baby kaiju leaned into your touch, crying out into you.

professor sato had named the baby kaiju "emi," after his late wife, which added a special touch to the bond you and Kenji had formed with the small creature.

he kindly offered to assist you and his son in raising the tiny creature, knowing you both could use his expertise.

emi grew fond of your guitar sessions. whenever you strummed the strings, her gaze would fixate on you.

she loved it so much that she seemed to ditch her usual rhymes that frequently annoyed kenji.

she was completely enthralled by the music, captivated by the sound and the way your fingers moved across the instrument.

you would sit on the high rise stool with your legs crossed with your guitar nestled in your lap.

emi's eyes widened in amazement, her gaze fixed on your fingers as they moved across the strings, producing beautiful music.

she would clap her hands together in enjoyment, seated obidiently on the ground in front of you.

sometimes, you would lay on the floor on your back, your guitar resting against your chest. with a soft and contemplative expression, you began strumming random chords, creating an impromptu and soothing melody.

emi would be stretched out beside you in a similar manner, her tiny body imitating your position. her eyes fluttered shut, seemingly entranced by the sound of the guitar and the rhythmic strums of your fingers across the strings.

you also began to read bedtime stories to her, pulling out your collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories collection.

the lights in the dimly lit basement were on, but the atmosphere was serene and soothing. kenji walked in, letting out a yawn and taking in the scene before him.

you were leaning against emi's tummy, knees propped, while emi laid on her side behind you, her claw nail resting on your lap for you to hold. you read the story aloud for her while she trilled in relaxation.

"gothic horror, for a baby kaiju?" kenji questioned, "seems a bit intense, doesn't it?" he said, his tone teasing.

"what, she likes it," you shrugged, "don't you, honey?" you asked the kaiju baby.

emi cooed in reply, as if to agree with you.

"it may help her out when she gets to the wild," you added, "you'll never know,"

kenji approached you, shaking his head slightly in mock defeat. He knew he would never win against your arguments. he settled down on the floor next to you and laid his head in your lap, a small sigh escaping him.

you ran your fingers through his hair, continuing your story for your two babies.

soft snores reached your ear and you stopped reading out loud, smiling to yourself. the story had done its work and caused both emi and kenji to drift off.

you continued to run your fingers through Kenji's hair, your gentle touch lulling him further into relaxation.

soon enough, soft snores filled the room, signaling that both he and the baby kaiju were fast asleep.

emi curled her body, getting closer to you, while kenji passed out on your lap, face resting on your thick thighs.

a smile tugged at your lips as you realized that your story had worked its magic, sending both of your babies into a peaceful slumber.

you returned home after a few hours of running errands, feeling frustrated and annoyed due to a particular inconvenience that had occurred.

when you entered the manor, you were met with a mixture of distressed wails and hollering, followed by a loud crashing sound.

kenji approached you immediately, looking harried, "there you are. Emi has been crying nonstop since you left," he said, his voice taut with concern.

as if on cue, the mansion quaked, and the distant cries of emi echoed through the halls. you followed the sound down to the basement, where you found the baby kaiju in the middle of a tantrum.

her cries were loud and piercing, and she was swatting at everything around her in a fit of anger. it was clear that she was upset about your absence and was manifesting her feelings through the tantrum.

professor sato, with the help of a walking stick, approached you as you entered the basement. "hello, y/n," he greeted warmly.

when you replied, emi abruptly stopped crying and her beady eyes locked onto you.

professor sato chuckled, noticing how quickly she responded to your presence. "looks like you were what she wanted," he said with a smile and motioned for you to come closer.

emi squealed lowly as you got closer to her. she made grabby hands at you, face pouting and cheeks drawing downwards.

"emi, baby-" you let out a yelp of surprise as emi pulled you to her belly, holding you there delicately as she snuggled her pudgy cheek on your head.

you were pressed against her body, looking like a starfish, all splayed out. the affection from the kaiju baby melted your heart and you snuggled into her hold.

"it's okay, honey... uh, mama's here," you added hesitantly.

emi cooed and you smiled wide against her scaly tummy, letting her warmth embrace you.

[delilahsturniolo]

Bf!Matt Headcannons

written by: @delilahsturniolo

warnings: none!

i decided to give you all something while you wait for my next fic, I’m almost done i promise i just have writers block ‼️❤️

bf!matt, who is always spoiling you.

You and Matt were out shopping at the mall together, suddenly you spotted a cute dress. “Matt! Look how pretty this is!” You pointed, Matt smiled and didn’t waste any time grabbing it and putting it inside the cart, along with everything else you pointed out.

bf!matt, who is always listening to your latest gossip.

“Taylor told Hailey what!?” Matt exclaimed, matching your tone. His face looking baffled.

“Yep! Isn’t that crazy? She needs to mind her own business.” You spoke, crossing your arms and leaning back.

“Oh she did NOT!” Matt snapped his fingers, speaking in a sassy tone.

bf!matt, the type of guy to never let you open a door by yourself.

Matt pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car. You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, when Matt grabbed your wrist. “Nope, not happening.” He said, getting out the car as quickly as he could. You laughed as you watched him run over to your side and open the door for you, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. “Much better.” He chuckled.

bf!matt, who enjoys cuddling with you.

Matt wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as you both laid down on the bed together. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. You started slowly sitting up, but Matt immediately pulled you back down. “Where do you think you’re going baby?” Matt murmured sleepily.

“Matt, I have to pee.” You said, Matt only tightened his hold on you, kissing your neck gently. “A few more minutes.” Matt whined. You smiled and gave in, shutting your eyes once more. A few minutes turned into hours, you never got to use the bathroom until the morning.

bf!matt, who enjoys cooking/baking for you.

Matt placed a plate of cupcakes in front of you. “Tada!” He exclaimed. The cupcake’s frosting was leaning to the side and it looked a bit messy, but you didn’t care. You took a bite of one of the cupcakes. “It’s very good baby, you did amazing.” You took another bite, it was actually good, regardless of its appearance. Matt smiled happily.

bf!matt, who will always be your shoulder to cry on.

Matt tightened his grip around you as you sobbed into his chest, he gently rubbed your back and stroked your hair, whispering soothing words into your ear. “Shhh..it’s okay baby, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere okay? Let it all out..you’re such a strong, beautiful girl.” He reassured you. Your sobs subsided, eventually turning into Matt and you just hugging in silence.

bf!matt, who would make sure other girls know he has a girlfriend.

Whenever you and Matt go out, he would always wear one of your hair ties on his wrist. He would wrap an arm around your waist or hold your hand out in public.

He also somehow managed to bring you up in every conversation, saying stuff like: “My girlfriend once told me..” or “I remember one time me and my girlfriend…”

bf!matt, who hates how much you think so lowly of yourself.

You were dress shopping for an occasion. Matt patiently waited outside the fitting room for you to come out. You looked in the mirror one last time before coming out of the room. “Do I look okay?” You asked hesitantly. Matt’s jaw dropped, his eyes admiring every part of your body.

“Holy fuck sweetheart..you look gorgeous! I love this dress.” Matt complimented you. You were flattered, but it didn’t feel right. You looked down at your stomach, your waist, your legs. “Are you sure? I hate the way I look. I feel so ugly.” You admitted. Matt immediately shook his head, walking up to you,

He grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer. “Nope. Never. You’re the most beautiful woman to ever walk this earth, you’re perfect just the way you are, and I don’t want you thinking otherwise. You’re so fucking sexy, you’re gonna make me pass out from all this beauty.” Matt joked at the end, making you laugh and immediately feeling confident in the dress.

bf!matt, who loves when you play with his hair.

You and Matt were lying in bed, watching a movie. Matt laid his head on your lap as you gently stroked his hair, your hands gently massaging his scalp as you ran your hands through his silky brunette hair. Matt’s body relaxed at the soothing feeling.

“Feel good?” You asked Matt, he hummed in response, falling asleep in your lap.

bf!matt, who is madly in love with you, and falls more in love with you every single day.

Matt gently kissed your lips as he pulled you into his arms, you hugged him back, kissing him softly. “I love you so much baby, you mean the world to me.” He cooed, stroking your hair gently.

“I love you more Matt. To the moon and back.”

© delilahsturniolo

comment on this post to be apart of the taglist! 🪽🤍

AUTHORS NOTE 💌

AHH I LOVED MAKING THIS IT’S SO SWEET.

matt is just so boyfriend material

taglist:

@babyalliah-777 @stopdropandroll1 @h3arts4harry @sturniolossluttybitch @sturniooolos @gwennybenny @jetaimevous @vtaraa @doctorreid187 @ivysturnss @strvnolin @sturnzsun @sassysturniolo2008 @blahbel668 @jamiesturniolo @sabsturned @wiidfi0wer33 @bitchydragonparadisee @ofc1ofc @z03ey

[blarshwritezz]

This one was inspired by this post by @suiana <3

Yandere Beauty x Beast Reader

M yan x GN reader

TW - obsessive behavior, mass murder, maybe mild stalking(?), people are meanies

You've grown so tired of this life, but it was all you knew. You've been trapped like this for years with nothing but your own rage to accompany you. Many of the once priceless paintings in your palace were now destroyed. It didn't matter. No one remembered this place. No one remembered you.

And it would stay that way until you die.

Every now and then some adventurers or travellers would find your palace, hoping for a place to stay the night, only to run away in fear. They'd rather take their chances with the wolves than with such a terrifying beast.

You expected another one of those interactions when you heard a knock at the doors. Some didn't even have that much decency. You weren't expecting such a beautiful man to he the one at your door. Nor were you expecting him to get down on one knee and ask to be your husband.

"You are the most stunning creature I've ever seen...please, allow me the honor of marrying you!" Of all things, did he have to call you a creature? You were technically a person! At least, you were a long time ago.

Not wanting to go through with whatever he could possibly be planning, you slammed the door in his face with a firm "No." He was probably trying to make a fool of you, or perhaps even kill you. Even though you hated this life, you didn't want to die. Not quite yet

How you wished that was the end of it.

He started sleeping outside the door of your palace, insisting on marriage if he ever saw you. Whether you we stepping out on the balcony, looking out a window, or tending to the garden he'd beg for your hand in marriage.

Even though his appearance became disheveled after the many days he spent outside your palace, he was still more beautiful than any woman you met as a human. Such a beautiful man surely had plenty of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes lined up at his own door, so why did he insist on a life with you? A life of solitude and silence. A life without a single friend. Even your servants were long gone. Broken mirrors, dusty furniture, spiders and bugs infesting the least visited corners, was that really a l8fe to beg for?

You finally got agitated at all his begging and pleading, of all the surely empty promises. As he followed you through your garden on day, you lost it. You turned back and gripped him firmly by the jaw, smooshing his rosy cheeks together as you demanded an explanation.

"You're amazing, your majesty! You're my greatest dream." He admit, a deep blush growing on his cheeks as your grip tightened. "I'll admit, I wasn't planning to propose, so I failed to bring you a proper ring. But I came out here, curious if the rumors were true...and the second I laid eyes on you, I was in love!"

It sounded more ignorant than you expected.

"I fell to my knees once I beheld you. You were too perfect for me to handle, and I knew it was a sign that I had to marry you!"

You really didn't know what to say. Was this guy all beauty and no brains? You didn't realize those kinds of people really existed.

You dropped him, firmly telling him to get lost and marry someone else. Someone better. But he instantly feel to his knees, gripping your legs and begging with tears in his eyes.

"Please! At least give me a chance, my love!" You never realized someone could be so pathetic.

You dragged him away. First you tried tossing him off the palace grounds, but he came crawling back. Then you dropped him half way through the forest. Again, he refused to leave your side. So you left him the last place you wanted to go.

You dragged him all the way back to the village, and instantly received the backlash you expected. You tossed him to the crowd, and they instantly took him. And as for you? They threw rocks, rotten food, and whatever else they could easily throw. The assault lasted until you were out of their sight.

At least now you could continue your days in peace.

Oh, you thought. You wished, you prayed. Your peace didn't even last a day.

That night, when you went out to you balcony to stare into the night, an unfamiliar sight caught your eye. The bright light of a fire. A large fire, consuming everything in its path. A horrible fire, turning the village to dust.

You gripped your balcony, crushing the metal of the railing. What were you to do? The villagers hated you. They loathed your very existence. They didn't remember you as you once were, only the beast you were today.

You were still supposed to be their ruler.

They were still your people.

You had to protect your people.

Without another second of hesitation you rushed out of your palace and through the forest. Only to find one person on the path there. The beautiful man you gave back to them earlier.

"I got rid of them for you, darling. Those barbarians didn't see how absolutely beautiful you are, and they can't keep us apart any more." He knealt down on one knee, pulling out a black box and revealing a stunning ring.

"Now let me do this properly...will you marry me?"

I WAS INSPIRED, OKAY? I know I have requests to get to 😭

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 55 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley can't get enough of the adrenaline rush that is accompanying his special mission, but he has reached the point where the excitement doesn't outweigh his desire to return home. Every day feels the same for you, until one of them starts to feel much worse.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, potential pregnancy complications, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

Every day was the same now. Every morning started out with a hopeful feeling in your chest. Your engagement ring was still noticeable on your finger, although you figured that would fade with time as it became a permanent fixture. At first, you woke up to the delicious feeling of being pregnant and engaged to Bradley, but when you rolled over to reach for him, the rest of the bed was cold. The covers were untouched. His pillow was still in the exact same place you left it when you made the bed yesterday.

Tears stung at your eyes. You knew exactly how many days he had been gone, because the updated number was practically all you could think about. The days had become a week. Then two. And now that hopeful feeling was starting to vanish only to be replaced by dread almost immediately after you cracked your eyes open.

You whispered, "I miss you," and climbed out of bed without even looking at the vacant side now. You started to dress in your scrubs without a smile on your face, and then you went into the bathroom which was completely silent. You thought that if you just had an inkling, the barest idea of when Bradley might be returning, you'd feel much better, but you had no clue.

You and Noah had only had one brief conversation with him over the phone. The connection had been pretty bad, and you knew someone was sitting right there with him monitoring every single word. He'd told you that much before his personal phone had been taken away from him the day he arrived. You had to pause as you put toothpaste on your toothbrush, because the tears were going to start if you didn't get yourself under control. 

Bradley had hung up a few post-it notes around the house for you and Noah to find. Most of them were reminders of how much he loved you, but the one on the bathroom mirror took your breath away every time you saw it. It said April 25th with a heart around it. And above that'd, he'd drawn a crown. The fact that you had no idea how much of your pregnancy he was going to miss threw you off every single time. You ran your fingers over the note, but you didn't move it.

"Mommy?" Noah called out, and you heard him jump down from his bed. It was so obvious how much he missed his dad; he was extra clingy with you right now, even shedding a few tears now when you tried to drop him off before you went to work each day.

"I'm in the bathroom," you called out as best you could with your toothbrush still in your mouth. You opened the door so he could come in with you, and he immediately wrapped his arms around your thigh.

"Is it daycare today?"

You spit out the toothpaste and rinsed your mouth. "Yes, Sweet Noah. You have daycare today."

"I want to go to the park with you and Daddy."

That sounded so perfect, you wanted to scream. "As soon as Daddy comes home, we can all spend a whole day at the park. But not today." You didn't even want to tell him that you had to work an extra hour and a half and as a result would be picking him up later than usual. You agreed to cover some extra shifts all week long even though you were tired enough that you'd been passing out in bed right after Noah went to sleep each night. 

When he sniffed and looked up at you with watery eyes, you could barely handle it. Bradley had been gone for less than three weeks, but you were already getting a little desperate. You knew you would feel like a failure if you reached out for help at this point, even though Natasha and Penny had both been texting with you to check in. Bradley even had Tracy emailing you in case you needed anything, and you couldn't decide whether you had to make more friends to get him off your back or simply be appreciative that he cared enough to set things up.

"I know," you whispered to Noah, running your fingers through his soft curls. "But we can make ants on logs later. And we can take Skittles for a nice walk." When you said her name, the pup appeared in the bathroom doorway, her brown eyes also a little sad without her favorite person at home.

"I'm hungry," Noah murmured against your scrub pants. You bent to scoop him up into your arms and carried him to the kitchen where you got breakfast ready for everyone. It was going to be a long day for you, and you'd been so wrapped up in your feelings, you almost forgot you were going to have to see Casey. 

You groaned at the thought of her, and you immediately lost your appetite and scraped your eggs into the dish on the floor for Skittles to enjoy. After you packed yourself a lunch and got Noah ready, you realized you were kind of running late. Everything felt ten times harder when you had to do it all yourself. 

"I don't know how Bradley managed," you whispered as you zipped down the block in your car. A soft smile played at your lips as you thought back to how adorably hopeless he had been when you first met him. He hadn't eaten a good meal in probably months before you started babysitting Noah for him. At least he could cook a little bit now, even if he still couldn't figure out how to use his phone. 

When you took Noah inside his daycare, Casey's eyes were immediately glued to your ring as it shone in the sunlight. She slid the clipboard to you and watched you sign Noah in while you held his hand. Then you knelt down and kissed his cheek and whispered, "I'll pick you up later. I love you."

He smiled, and then you let Casey walk him inside. You stood there long enough to make sure he started to hang up his bag like you always did, and when she walked back out into the lobby, she was smirking. "Did Bradley leave you? He hasn't been here in weeks."

You rolled your eyes as you said, "He's deployed. We've been over this before."

She held up her hands in mock surrender. "I'm just saying, it kind of looks like he left you and Noah in the dust."

"In what world would that man leave Noah?" you practically shouted. 

"That's true," she replied with a smile. "Bradley would never leave his adorable son, but I could see him ditching you and your make believe baby."

You rubbed your temples and took your phone out of your pocket to check the time. You'd barely make it to work before the first patient if you didn't leave right now, but you couldn't help yourself. "I'm done, Casey. I've had enough. Which of the owners is here today? Because I'm not going to listen to you talk to me like this for one more minute."

Her face went ghostly white and she muttered something that you couldn't quite make out. "Speak up," you snapped. "Or apologize to me and don't bother talking to me again unless it's completely necessary."

"Sorry."

"Great," you told her loudly. "Have a great day, and when I pick Noah up later, just keep your mouth shut."

You took in the stupid looking expression on her face before you turned to leave, storming out the door and across the parking lot to your car.

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

It didn't take Bradley long to get used to the sleek controls and seductive design of the sixth-generation fighter jet that everyone appropriately referred to as Shadowhawk. By the second morning on base in Yokosuka, Admiral Palmer was singing Bradley's praises. He showed up early and did as he was told, hoping to spend as much time in the air as he could each day.

It was an adrenaline rush every single time. He was going substantially faster than he ever did in a Super Hornet, and all of his readouts were being recorded. He had to pass a quick physical and stress test every morning before he was allowed to fly, and then he was hooked up to monitoring equipment and let loose. He and Shadowhawk were flying the same loop far out over the pacific ocean at insanely high altitudes, and each time he fell a little bit more in love with being in the air. He could maneuver through rolls and dive into an attack formation faster than he could even imagine. 

When he was flying, it was easy enough to focus on the task at hand. He knew if he wasn't one hundred percent focused, it would be dangerous. He might not snuff out the launched missile in time with his flares or his guns. He might lose sight of his targets. But as soon as he had any sort of mental reprieve, he was thinking about you and Noah and Skittles and his bungalow tucked away on a side street in Coronado.

"Fuck," he muttered as he unloaded from Shadowhawk one day just as the sun was setting. He was drenched in sweat and exhausted, and all he could think about was taking a shower with you before dragging himself off to his king size bed that always smelled like wildflowers and falling asleep in your arms. He let the peripheral staff detach all of the cables and heart monitor from his flight suit before he found an officer who spoke English. "Is there time for me to make a phone call tonight?" he asked. 

It was about three o'clock in the morning in California, and he knew he wouldn't be able to talk to Noah, but he was dying to hear your voice. He knew he'd wake you up, but the ache was so strong, he absolutely needed to if he could. He'd been allowed to make exactly one call so far, and that was already more than two weeks ago.

All he got in response to his question was a quick shake of his head. "Tomorrow," she responded. That's what they told him every day. The lack of communication felt like a prison sentence at times, but there wasn't much he could do but accept it. All of the data they were collecting as well as Shadowhawk itself were considered proprietary and top secret. He practically had to sign his life away every day before he was allowed to touch the thing.

"Tomorrow," he repeated. "But will it actually be tomorrow? Or does that mean a week from now?"

"Tomorrow," she said more firmly, and he thanked her quietly before heading up to the tower to debrief with the admirals. There wasn't much else he could do.

The next day was a lot more of the same, and the routine was starting to grate on his nerves now. The aircraft still felt incredible, beyond his wildest dreams. He was still happy to be here, but at the same time, he was ready to go home now. They weren't giving him any updates on the progress of this assignment or when it might end, so he just decided to approach Admiral Palmer directly.

"Sir, I'd really appreciate a ten minute phone call, if that can be arranged." Once again, it was the middle of the night for you, but Bradley needed it.

The older man eyed him closely and cleared his throat. "It's a liability, Lieutenant. I'm sure you can understand that."

Bradley felt his fingers flex into fists at his sides. "Sir, someone would be monitoring me the entire time. And I'm just asking to talk to my fiancée and my son. That's it. Any time of any day."

The answer of, "There's no guarantee," did not sit well with Bradley. He had to bite his lip until he was tasting blood to keep himself from talking out of order, but he was sure the other man could read the frustration on his face and in his posture. "Maybe a very brief call, but we could be wrapping up our preliminary testing on Shadowhawk any day now. Either way, I'm sure you'll be able to finish out this temporary assignment like a professional."

Bradley swallowed down every retort that came to his mind, saluted Admiral Palmer, and left for his tiny room in the barracks. But another week passed, and Bradley knew there was no end in sight. And perhaps no phone call either. 

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

"Is this normal though?" you asked Natasha over the phone one night after Noah was in bed. You'd thought about taking a long bath, but you were so tired from working late almost every day, you could barely hold yourself up. You were already in bed at 8:45 with your phone pressed to your ear. "I haven't heard from Bradley in almost a month."

The words made a lump form in your throat. It was actually twenty-two and a half days since he'd called. You needed to hear his voice. Noah was asking for him nonstop, and he had missed your most recent checkup with your obstetrician. The whole thing had been such a blur during your lunch break without him there, and you wanted to show him the new ultrasounds.

"Well, I don't think this assignment is exactly normal, you know?" she replied. "On a regular deployment, you'd be able to talk to him almost weekly. But this is something else altogether."

You made a soft sound. There had to be a way to make the time pass faster. If you didn't have to get Noah by six o'clock every day, you would try to pick up more hours at work. Maybe this weekend you could start cleaning up the extra bedroom that you and Bradley decided would become the nursery. You already promised Noah that you'd take him shopping for a Halloween costume, so at least that would entertain him for a little while. 

"Thanks, Natasha," you murmured to Bradley's best friend.

"Hey, if you need a little break this weekend, I'd be more than happy to come over and play with Noah on Saturday or Sunday," she said, and you sighed in relief.

"That actually sounds fantastic. I'll call you."

You ended the call a minute later, curling up in a ball of exhaustion as you tried to imagine where Bradley was and what he was doing. You were tired now as you tried to do the math to determine what time it was in Japan. Was he sixteen hours ahead of you? Something like that? You yawned and fell asleep with your phone on the pillow next to your head.

Then you heard your ringtone blaring in your ear, and you almost fell out of the bed as you realized your phone was so close to you. RESTRICTED CALLER. "Oh my god," you gasped, trying to answer the call while you saw that your battery was down to four percent because you never plugged it in. "Bradley?!"

"Princess."

"Bradley!" You climbed out of bed, your body immediately shivering as you were exposed to the cool air. Your nerves were frayed as you plugged your phone in and asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Baby. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

"It's okay!" you said, your voice sounding more like a sob as you sat on the floor. "I've been so worried about you."

His voice was a deep, familiar rumble as he said, "I've got five minutes. Tell me everything."

"We miss you, Daddy," you said, rubbing your hand low on your belly which was starting to feel a little tender as you got closer to thirteen weeks along. "Noah asks for you all the time. The baby looked good at the last appointment. But your best friend, Skittles, is barely holding it together."

"I missed your appointment," he said, his voice strained with emotion. "I should have been there."

"It's okay," you whispered. "We're doing okay." But you weren't. You and Noah thrived when you had his attention. You felt loved when he was home to hold you and whisper plans about the future until you fell asleep each night. "I just thought you'd be able to call more often."

"Me too," he said in a tone that sounded both annoyed and resigned.

"Do you know when you'll be home?" you asked in as hopeful a voice as you could manage.

"Soon, Princess. Soon. Now tell me everything about your appointment."

You gave him more details as you shifted around on the floor, and you told him that Noah painted a picture for him. Then you heard someone on his end of the call telling him that it was time to go, and you wanted to scream that it wasn't enough. But instead you let the tears fall down your cheeks, thankful that you at least knew he was safe. 

"I love you, Bradley."

"I love you too, Princess. I'll be home before you know it."

You dried your tears and climbed back into bed, and even though you weren't able to fall asleep again, you felt so much better. Your imagination drifted to thoughts of the baby in the nursery, all of you curled up on the floor for story time together. You would start getting the room ready this weekend.

On Saturday, you took Noah to the Halloween warehouse store that seemed to pop up overnight. "You have to hold my hand," you reminded him as he reached for every single display in the crowded store. There were so many aisles, this would probably take up your entire morning with him. He was keeping a running list of options that he liked for trick-or-treating, and you had to keep reminding yourself not to check the price tags. You'd put whatever he wanted on your princess credit card and call it a day.

"Mommy, let's all be dinosaurs," he said, pointing to a costume in his size. 

You glanced around the area and said, "They don't have any in my size. Can we pick something else?"

"I want you and Daddy to dress up, too," he whined, and you didn't want to have to tell him that you weren't sure if Bradley would be home in the next week and a half to accommodate that wish. 

"Well, I will definitely dress up with you, okay? Let's pick something out where you and I can match."

But he wasn't going to be deterred. He was demanding that all three of you match along with Skittles. You walked around the entire store twice before you found an option that he agreed upon, and you were smiling as you gathered the costumes in all of the necessary sizes. "This is perfect, Sweet Noah," you said as you looked at the costume for Bradley and laughed. You just hoped he would be back in time to wear it. If not, maybe you could ask Maverick. 

The sky was starting to look overcast, so you took Noah home for lunch and didn't feel too bad about keeping him inside for the afternoon, especially when it started raining. You set him up with his array of coloring books at the kitchen table and then went to investigate the extra bedroom. Nobody ever slept in there, so it was a bit dusty. There was basically no furniture besides the bed and an old desk, but it was cozy and perfect for what you had planned. 

Your muscles were sore from standing at work, and you were so tired, but you started moving the bed anyway. You'd have to tell Dr. Kelly and the others that you were pregnant soon. It was time now, but you kept putting it off, enjoying the secret that only you and Bradley really knew about. Plus it still got under your skin a little bit when you considered that other people would have a knee jerk reaction to the timeframe of when you got engaged compared to when you got pregnant. 

"It's none of their business," you whispered to yourself as you walked to the kitchen to check on Noah every few minutes. Then you went back to the bedroom and cleaned, moved things around and took measurements. "How big are cribs, anyway?" you mused before looking up some dimensions online. "Pretty big." 

It took some creativity, but you thought you'd finally sorted out where everything should go. Then you moved Bradley's random junk from the closet to the attic, wiping the sweat from your face with each trip. You kicked your way through the boxes where you'd found the USB drive with the video he made with Meredith. At first you grimaced and thought you might cry, but then you remembered the way he had smashed the stupid thing to bits in the backyard. You wanted him to come home. You needed him to. 

"Mommy?" Noah called out, luring you back into the kitchen. You were a mess, and when you noticed how much he was yawning, you silently rejoiced. 

"It looks like you could use a nap," you said as you kissed the curls on top of his head. He scrambled up into your arms and hugged you, such a tiny reminder of his dad, and you carried him off to his room. After a few stories, he was asleep as the rain picked up a little bit, and you knew this would be the perfect time to take a shower.

You moved Skittles' bed into Noah's room temporarily, and coaxed her in with a treat. "Keep him company in case he wakes up," you whispered, and she walked around in a circle on the plush cushion before settling in. Her crooked, purple bow made you smile. Everything in this house made you smile and think about Bradley. You knew he'd have even more ideas about a theme for the nursery, but you started to scroll through some inspiration online as the shower warmed up for you.

The water ended up feeling better than you anticipated. Your shoulders were sore. Your hips were sore. Every part of your body was aching. It seemed it didn't matter how much you were sleeping, you were still exhausted all day long. Maybe Dr. Kelly would reduce your hours and give you a break. You thought about sneaking home one afternoon a week to take a long nap before going back out to pick Noah up. Then you thought about how Casey hadn't said a single word to you since you told her you were going to her boss. Then you smiled. 

You were squeaky clean when you got dressed again in some old sweats and headed to the kitchen. Your stomach was growling, and you desperately wanted some coffee. "One cup is okay," you whispered, turning on Bradley's fancy machine while you made yourself a snack. You'd been meticulous about how much caffeine you were drinking, and Bradley helped by bringing home only decaf from the coffee shop. You downed the cup, and it was hot and delicious, and almost immediately you had to pee again. 

Your doctor told you that was normal as the baby grew and started to stretch things out. You passed Noah's bedroom door where both he and Skittles were still sound asleep as the rain splattered against his window, and then you went to the bathroom. When you wiped, the toilet paper caught your eye, and your hand started to shake. Pink. Blood. Just a little bit, but there was blood. 

"Oh no," you gasped, a dizzy spell overtaking your body. You'd read about this in your textbooks, and you knew it could happen, but you'd blocked it out of your mind when it came to yourself right now. You didn't want to be an example. You had to grip the toilet seat with one hand to keep steady as you wiped yourself again. There was more blood, a little bit less pink and more red this time. 

Your own breathing was too loud. It was echoing through your mind and through the bathroom, and you wanted to throw up. You eased yourself onto the floor and started to panic. The baby. What if something was happening to the baby? "No," you whispered, trying to ground yourself. Using the edge of the tub, you pulled yourself slowly to your feet, your head spinning more with every inch you moved. "No," you said louder. 

When you were standing on your own, you had yourself almost convinced you'd imagined it. You didn't feel bad. You were just a little sore. There couldn't be anything wrong. You reached for another piece of toilet paper and wiped, but the result was the same. 

Where was your phone? Who were you supposed to call? You walked around in circles around the house while your heart thudded a sickening rhythm in your chest. You paused, unable to locate your phone and convinced you were going to throw up. After you backtracked to the extra bedroom, you found it and unlocked it.

Natasha's name was right there in your recent calls, and you tapped on it before you could even fathom what you were going to tell her. 

"Hi," she said brightly when she eventually answered. "Want me to come over and play with Noah so you can take a break for a little bit?"

"Please," you gasped. "Please come over. Right now."

She must have sensed something in your voice, because hers turned serious as she assured you she was on her way. While you waited for her, you wiped yourself again and again before you made yourself wait in the living room instead of the bathroom. When she walked inside with dripping wet hair and concern on her face, you said, "Noah is still napping. I need to take myself to the emergency room."

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

Get to the hospital, Princess. This kind of scenario is very real and has happened to me. I will tread as carefully as I can. Please don't scream at me. We will hear from a doctor in the next chapter. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 56

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[starrluvs]

I have a request! How about a scenario where we have a very ugly and strong argument with Bi-han, but later he comes back to apologize and let us take it out on him for treating us so badly?

(I just want some agressive sex/rage sex/fury sex with this man)

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘/𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐗

cw: fem reader, married couple, piv sex, bi-han is a little rough, reader cant stand bi-han's attitude tbh, angry sex, make up/apology sex, fighting for dominance, cock drunk reader, mentions of bi-han dirty talking in cantonese creampie, bi han and reader are both sassy/petty little shits that still love each other, and i think that's it! minors dni please!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: wow idk why this took me so long, but i kinda like this one ;) ... ty for this idea, nonnie <3 i also want to mention that the mention of bi-han speaking/dirty talking in cantonese was heavily inspired by a headcanon i seen from @bihansthot ! anyways, enjoy!!

silent treatment was without a doubt something that bi-han absolutely loathed. he truly believed it’d be better off if you were to scream your lungs out at him instead. but getting a cold shoulder and silent treatment from you was something his ego couldn’t handle. had anybody else dared to ignore his presence the way you had these past forty-eight hours, he’d probably have them executed after the first five minutes of this frivolous behaviour. but you, his wife, was a different case.

bi-han couldn’t discipline or punish you the way he would towards his students and lower ranked lin kuei ninjas. you were his wife– his equal –and this silent game of ‘who’s willing to crack first?’ was driving him mad, although he’d never admit that to anybody… yet.

the fabric of the towel was soft against your hands while you worked on drying out your hair. having just exited the shower, you were in nothing but a silk blue robe that complemented your husband's traditional colour scheme. just the thought of him made you scoff out loud and shake your head, who the hell did he think he was?, you thought to yourself. about two days ago, bi-han appeared to be grumpy when he arrived back at your shared compound after finishing his duties for the day. 

being the supportive wife you were, you tried to talk to your husband, ask him if he needed anything from you, or even tried to see if he would be vocal about what was bothering him. and much to your dismay, he lashed out on you as if you were some peasant who worked under him during the day– which you sure as hell weren't.

“leave me be. the last thing i need tonight is another insignificant fool blabbering in my ear constantly.” 

his voice was sharp when he walked past you and entered your shared bedroom. bi-han having miserable mood swings wasn’t something new, but he almost never verbally took out his stress on you– possibly because he knew better. truth be told, you were too tired for his attitude today and had no intentions of letting him ruin your peaceful afternoon. all you did was let out a ‘hmph’ that you purposely made loud enough for him to hear and continued in silence with the fruit you were cutting up for yourself in the kitchen.

ever since that transpired, you haven’t said a word to bi-han and completely ignored his presence, which made his blood run colder than it already was. he was a hard person to read when he kept his usual stoic expression, but deep down you knew he was aware of how frustrated you were with him. which is exactly what you wanted.

letting out a tired sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror and take time to fix up your hair before exiting the bathroom and arriving at your bed. as you sat in silence for a moment, you felt the temperature noticeably drop… he’s here. rolling your eyes, you decide to comfortably tuck yourself in on your side of the shared bed and warm yourself up from the chilly air.

however , your eyes never shut– not even when the door creaks open slowly and reveals your husband’s tall form. his demeanour didn’t seem to be as aggressive compared to how it was two days ago, which you were grateful for. but you still avoided eye contact with him and stared at the wall in silence, not wanting to be bothered. you knew your worth and refused to feed into your husband's ego, because you knew that it was already big enough… your thoughts came to a halt when you heard bi-han speak up. “your juvenile behaviour is astounding,” he scoffs, and you can damn near feel his eyes piercing into you. 

in response, you calmly grab your pillow and walk right past him, making your way to the living room. bi-han watches you settle yourself down on the couch as you lay down and begin to curl yourself up comfortably. all he does is release a sigh from his lips, contemplating on what his next course of action should be. bluntly calling you childish probably wasn’t the best thing to say after two days of neither of you talking to each other, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking his mind.

deep down he knew he’d have to put his pride and ego aside to resolve this. he was the eldest of three sons, a powerful and deadly assassin, the grandmaster of the lin kuei– and yet here he was, allowing silent treatment from his wife to get under his skin. letting out a stubborn groan, bi-han made his way towards you and knelt down on the mat so that he was at face level with you on the couch. 

he calls out your name in the softest way he could, hoping you would turn to him. but he clearly failed to get your attention as you didn’t say anything back. his small whim of patience had already run out, “do you insist on telling me what your problem is?” this time his tone sounded more cold and gruff, as usual. rolling your eyes once again for the night, you turn to bi-han and finally speak to him, “last i recall, i was just a mere insignificant fool blabbering in your ear when i tried to talk,” he could've sworn your tone was sassy, sarcastic and authoritative all at once– as if you were just waiting to bite at him.

if he was being honest, it’s one of the many things he found so attractive about you. the way you didn’t take shit from anybody– not even himself –made bi-han fall hard for you… he needed a strong willed woman by his side. but moments like this proved to be a form of self realisation. the only people who would ever dare to talk back to him were just you and his brothers. he was so used to everyone following his lead and command, it was almost… refreshing, to have somebody stand their ground.

the glare and frown you had on your face was something you were far too beautiful for. bi-han closed his eyes and inhaled as calmly as possible, trying to collect his words and choose them wisely. “what i said to you that day was regrettable–” you cut him off before he could continue, “and?,” you were already unimpressed with his words, “it’s not like there’s anything you can say to take it back.” your husband must’ve known that just words alone wasn’t going to solve this. 

“i understand that, but,” his cold hand gently grasps your arm, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body. “perhaps there’s something i can do to make amends for what i’ve done?”

and now you’re here, back on your shared bed, taking out your own frustration above bi-han on his cock. you had your hands planted on bi-han’s chest as you bounced up and down his shaft, “fuck..!” your voice lost that sting it previously had, making bi-han grow a prideful grin on his face. “still trying to put me in my place?” your husband’s taunting only made you feel more agitated than you already were. with an attempt to keep your moan in, you bite down on your lower lip and snake your hands up to bi-han’s neck, keeping a slight grip. “s-shut– ngh!– up…” the movement of your hips refused to come to a halt, forcing bi-han to lay back and stay below you.

it felt like a battle for dominance between the two of you. two hard headed (and sometimes ignorant) lovers trying to prove to each other how much power they had over one another. bi-han was confident that you knew how easily he could overpower you in terms of strength, but decided to let you have your little wish of ever taking control over him. looking down at him, his chest was covered in sweat and his ears and cheeks were flushed in a light shade of pink. though you’d have to admit that your hands around his neck were a great touch. it felt as if there was a surge of power and control coursing through you.

apart from his occasional groans, the cryomancer stayed silent as he watched your voluptuous body on top of his. noticing your lover’s face contort in pleasure, you can’t help but spew out more words, “yeah… did you r-really, ah!, think that i would tolerate that b-behaviour from y– f-fuck!,” before you could finish blurting out what you wanted to, bi-han had gripped your hips hard enough to stop your movements as he fucked up into you, making you cry out at the sudden surprise of pleasure he was bringing you.

the grandmaster only chuckled. he found your sounds pitiful, “you talk too much.”  from the way his cock was jackhammering into you, it proved too difficult to spit out any sort of petty comment towards him. the speed of his thrusts made your body feel limp and your husband took note of this from the moment you slumped down, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. his voice was dangerously close to your ear from this angle, “mmm…such an incompetent attempt of being in control,” your pride disallowed you from letting out any moans, “fuck.. y-you..!” hearing how slurred your words were only made bi-han scoff.

your attempts at keeping composure were becoming futile and bi-han knew how close you were to cumming around his length with the way your pussy tightened and gripped him like a vice. “i can feel how close you are, love,” bi-han stops his thrusts but keeps himself fully buried inside of you. before you could get the chance to protest or whine, the cryomancer speaks up. “i have no intention of letting you cum until you accept my apology.” the expression he held was smug while he secured your waist with that same grip he had before, making you unable to move your hips. 

you’d been so focused on taking out your frustration on him that you forgot the whole point of this was him trying to make amends for how he lashed out on you. truthfully, you would’ve purposely told your husband that he’d have to take you out on a fancy date in order for you to accept his apology… but you already felt so fucked out from how his cold cock was abusing your insides just moments ago. you were so close, and you needed that coil in your stomach to snap. “fuck, i forgive you– okay? just let me cum already, pleaseee–!” bi-han groans in response and glides a cold finger to press on your clit, making you shiver in pleasure at how swollen and sensitive your bud feels. without any more wasted time, the grandmaster delivers his quick thrusts from underneath you once again and rubs fast circles on your clit.

the feeling of everything was becoming overwhelming, “ahh– ‘s good! it f-feels so g– ngh!” your mind was clouded with lust and each sentence you tried to complete ended up failing to connect coherently. there were words that left bi-han’s mouth, but you could barely decipher what he was saying with the way your heart beat drummed in your ears– 

it was in that moment, your cries echoed in the room as you pulsed around his cock, gushing around his member. bi-han reduced the speed of his thrusts while trying to help you ride out your high. once you finally come back down from your bliss, you feel your husband's cold, rough hands manhandle you and flip the position that you two were in. you were now layed on your back as bi-han towered over you, parting your legs and easing between them. 

being able to admire your body with the positions swapped felt so refreshing to bi-han. watching the way your breasts heaved up and down with short breaths… the way your skin was coated with sweat, resulting in your hair being out of place from its presentable manner you previously had it in. and being able to see your juices not only coating his cock– but also the inside of your thighs. seeing your slick trickle down to the mattress… gods, you were so beautiful like this. 

bi-han couldn’t waste any more precious time just observing when you were unintentionally inviting him to ravish you even more than he already has. the cryomancer grabs your leg and hooks it over his shoulder as he positions himself enough to easily slide his cock into your pussy. being filled up again made your walls flutter– you wanted to be here forever, just taking his cock while it stuffed you full. to no surprise, bi-han’s thrusts were rough as he began to chase his own high.

your moans never came to an end and were only received as noises to push bi-han further. the cryomancer decides to place a grip on both of your legs this time and leans closer, pinning your knees right by your ears and increasing the force of his thrusts. your folded position had you seeing stars as bi-han’s cock was angled even deeper than before. the way his tip kissed your sweet spot again and again– you could no longer stop your tongue from lolling out, followed by drool rolling down from your mouth.

bi-han snickers, “all of that attitude earlier…” he moves closer to your face and his nose touches yours, “just to be reduced to a cock hungry vixen beneath me– shit!” your husband spits out, feeling how your walls clenched around him from his harsh words. even if you were able to coherently speak, you would never admit how much of a mess you become when bi-han works his cock inside of you…

the grandmaster felt himself becoming dangerously close to his climax, and you felt it with the way his rock hard cock twitched inside of you. his volume started to increase and his grunts became shallow moans that he desperately tried to hold back. noticing this, you use the last bit of your energy to purposely squeeze hard around him, clamping your pussy around his cock as if you were trying to keep it all for yourself. the unexpected action made bi-han lace out a loud string of swears and words in his mother tongue. although you didn’t quite understand what he was saying, you were aware that they were phrases he only used in scenarios like this, making you assume that only vulgar words were leaving his mouth.

the roles were reversed now– this time he was the one hiding his face in the crook of your neck with your lips right by his ear. his hips started to stutter and lose the rhythm it previously had. letting out a lustful hum, you speak into his ear, “inside… haah– c-come on..! fuckin’ fill me up, please!” hearing your voice spew out these words was enough to do it– he filled you to the brim with his seed.

you made sure to milk him dry, taking every drop that he had to offer you. both of you laid there, completely fucked out and exhausted– his body was still slouched over yours while he took time to catch his breath. very slowly, he pulled his cock out of you and planted a peck on your lips, “in no other realm would i have imagined reciting vows with a woman that carried such a flame and sharp tongue,” he leans down and places yet another kiss to your swollen lips, 

“yet i could never imagine falling in love with anybody else…”

[lesbojournals]

Poly!Marauders x Slytherin!Reader

part one here three here four here five

Your head pounded harder than it ever has before. You groaned at the light from your squinted eyes and covered your face with your hands.

“Feeling alright, princess?” You heard a voice ask, and your eyes snapped open at the realization that light doesn’t shine in the Slytherin dungeons and the voice of Sirius Black doesn’t come from your safe dormitory either.

You sat up and glared at him, realizing you were, in fact, in James Potter’s bed (given the Quidditch jersey hanging off of the side embroidered with POTTER). 

“I…we…I didn’t…” You stuttered out, looking at a particularly cheeky Sirius Black.

He nodded solemnly. “You most certainly did.” 

You gasped, bringing your hands to cover your mouth. “In front of-”

Before SIrius could continue, Remus interrupted you. “Enough, Siri. Don’t torture the babe.”

The babe. You felt your cheeks heat at the nickname. Sirius, on the other hand, took note of this and his smile grew bigger.

“Something wrong, dolly?”

Dolly. Great, again with the nicknames. You opened your mouth to answer, words stuck in your throat at the sight of a shirtless James exiting the bathroom from a shower.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” James asked, in genuine concern.

Love. 

You groaned and fell back into the bed, only to realize you were still in James’ bed, leading you to scramble to get out of it. 

Sirius cackled while Remus gave him a light shove.

James approached you. “You feeling okay? I got a potion for hangovers for you–well actually Rem got two of them for both of us. If you’re feeling anything like I did last night you must be feeling absolutely dreadful.”

You glared at his kind words and huffed. “I don’t need anything, unlike you lions I can handle my liquor.”

With that you stood, feeling a wave of nausea overcome you. You clutched your stomach and James gripped your wrist to run you to the bathroom, where you threw up violently. 

He rubbed your back gentle with one hand, holding your hair up and away from the bile with another.

“So much for handling your liquor.” Sirius quipped from the bathroom doorway, earning another shove from Remus, this time a bit harder.

Remus scolded him. “Don’t be rude to her.”

When you finished James gave you a pat on the back and guided you to stand, helping you over to the sink to get some mouthwash.

Sirius scrunched his nose and opened his mouth to make a comment. Remus then promptly dragged Sirius away, to, what you could only guess, scold him again. 

But why did Remus even care?

James raised an eyebrow at the situation and decided to leave you, unknowingly leaving the bathroom door open a crack.

“You can’t expect her to like you back if all you’re going to do is relentlessly tease, Sirius!” You heard Remus whisper shout.

You could hear James slap his own forehead. “Why are we talking about this now?”

Sirius chimed in. “It’s not my fault the opportunity to poke fun keeps presenting itself! That’s how I express my love!”

You stared at yourself in the mirror in shock. Love?! The Sirius Black, was in love with you? But he had two boyfriends, in a very committed relationship. That could only mean…

The cogs were turning in your head and the realization hit you like a semi-truck. They all liked you.

“I’m leaving!” You loudly announced from the bathroom, making sure your entrance into the room would be known. 

The boys stared at you as you exited the bathroom, Sirius with an eyebrow raised. “And you’re taking mine and Rem’s clothes with you?”

You looked down.

Oh my GOD.

Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush. You told yourself. Come up with something. You definitely knew you had changed into the clothes of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin last night. Sure. 

“Well I don’t suppose I’m supposed to change into the liquor-soaked clothes of mine from last night now am I?” You sarcastically remarked, earning an ‘o’ face from James. 

Oh no. Was that too mean?

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Whatever, pretend you don’t like us. Doesn’t matter to me. Your clothes are in a baggie by the door. I expect my shirt back by next week!”

You stuck your tongue out at him and grabbed the clothes, turning to James and Remus. “Thank you both for letting me stay here. It won’t be happening again.”

You closed the door behind you, immediately sprinting out of the common room to the dungeons as fast as you could. 

God, why can’t you apparate in Hogwarts?

When you entered your common room you promptly ignored the teases of the other Slytherins awake in the morning. The words of Barty Crouch Jr. stuck with you as you raced to your dorm.

“Enjoy the night with your new boyfriends?”

It wasn’t even mean. Or harsh. It was just–wow, your boyfriends? Could you imagine? You shut the thought down as fast as you could and ignored Narcissa’s questioning glance from her bed as you screamed into your pillow.

This feeling would go away, right?

[daisiescomelate]

Bad bad wolf

Prompt: Gojo accidentally scared you during a mission and now he's begging you to open the bathroom door and let him talk to you.

Content: Gojo/Reader, angst, cursing, ooc.

div. plutism - masterlist

It was an accident. You knew that. A curse got too close to harm you and he snapped for a second, letting go of his goofy attitude and showing you a side of him that you had yet to meet. He checked in with you, he double checked, and then he triple checked, worried about you being injured or scared of the situation or... him.

You told him you were fine, that it was all good, you were just in shock still —about the curse, of course. You just needed a shower. So he cared your cheek and kissed your palm and drove you home so you could take your bath.

But now you couldn't bring yourself to open the bathroom door.

You rubbed your face and tried to stop your mind from derailing.

I mean, c'mon!

Gojo Satoru was a prophecy made flesh, he was the most powerful sorcerer in Japan, maybe the world. Of course that meant he was dangerous, that he was lethal. I mean hell, you were lethal and your curse technique wasn't even that good.

And you knew Satoru was an asshole with a loose moral compass, and that his silliness was more of a tool of provocation and manipulation than anything else.

But it was different— to actually see it.

Raw power.

Cold blood murder in his eyes and a maniac smile.

A snap of his fingers and life just... vanished as far as the eye could see.

The joy he got from it.

But for God’s sake! It was Satoru. Kisses on your forehead Satoru. Fart jokes Satoru. Pouty lips for cuddles Satoru.

The meaner thing he had ever done to you was putting salt on your coffee as a prank because you weren't the first person to wish him happy birthday! He had never lifted a finger against you. Then why were you so scared?!

The doorbell rang and you heard the front door opening and closing. Satoru began singing some made up lyrics about chinese food that included a falsetto. You heard him walk up to the bathroom door and knock on it, a smile on his voice.

"Babe, food is here!" he said.

You were wrapped on a towel, damped, looking straight into the mirror and trying to calm yourself down. Satoru, it's just Satoru. What's your problem?

His voice echoed on the tile of the room and on your temples. You were suddenly too aware of the water drops falling from the shower head and the cold, wet floor under your feet.

"You have been there forever, babe. Everything alright?"

I'm not ready.

Just breath.

You walked to the door, counting to ten in your head. Just go and open it, you will be fine. He will hug you and everything will be fine.

I want Satoru.

As you extended your hand to the handle, it shaked slightly, catching you off guard. You inhaled sharply and quickly moved to hold it in place.

"I'm alright", you said quickly, a little bit too aggressive even— maybe? Shit, it was an accident, I’m sorry. "I'm fine," you added, trying to be softer this time, "just give me a minute, love. I'll be right out."

"Mmm? Of course, baby."

You heard his footsteps getting away from the door and the clatter of the dishes as he probably set the table for you two. He continued to talk to you through the door.

“Ijichi is already messaging me about another assignment.” He sighed dramatically. “I never get a break, what would these people do without me?”

You heard him turn on the TV and lower the volume to keep it in the background as you liked it.

“One of these days we should ditch them and go on a vacation. What do you think? Fall off the map for a month or two, that would do wonders for my back! We could go to the beach~” Satoru kept walking around, you heard the rustling of clothes as he took off his uniform and put on something clean. “Drink cocktails under the sunset~”, he continued, his voice fading as he left to another room and increasing back again when he returned to the living room area.

“I’ll ask Nanamin to take care of my assignments, he still owes me a favor or two.” You heard the sound of Satoru opening one of his wine bottles.

His voice, that you often found so silly and even sweet, suddenly felt as if it carried a layer of an uncovered threat.

You noticed that you were shaking slightly.

You tried to repress it, sing to yourself, and tell yourself a joke, but nothing had any effect and your legs became weak; you sat on the toilet to prevent yourself from falling.

Time passed, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour. Satoru had run out of conversation and had fallen into silence. The wait must have been long enough, since the next thing you heard was Satoru right behind the door again.

“Pumpkin pie, I don’t mean to hurry you but dinner is going to get cold!”

You stayed still, hugging yourself to try and find some comfort. Your whole body felt like freezing, and you pinched your skin in a nervous tic without realizing.

"Do you need help with anything? Is it your hair? Do you want me to help you dry it, love?"

Your breathing picked up, an anxious feeling kept bubbling under your skin, making your body suddenly uncomfortable. There was a hint of something in his voice but because of your now rising panic it was hard for you to decipher what it was.

Wasn't the bathroom a little bit too small? Is there really no other way out of here other than that stupid door? Do people hate proper windows on bathrooms that much?

"Love?"

You turned around and glanced at the mirror.

Why are you freaking out?

"Babe?"

You heard the doorknob again and the bathroom door unlocking.

Out of reflex, you slammed it close again.

Silence.

The longest minute.

"Do you need a towel?” Satoru’s voice was oddly cheerful in an awkward attempt to ignore what you just did. “Is that why you don't want me to come in?", he asked, even if he had walked on you naked several times already and that had never been a problem between you two.

Your tongue was too heavy to speak.

"I'm going to go fetch you a towel, okay baby? Be right back."

You felt like crap. You felt like shit. You felt like you couldn't breathe.

Were you really making that big of a deal out of this?

You were embarrassed. You were scared. You wanted to leave. Open the door, push Satoru to one side and bolt. Leave this house.

"I'm back with the towel!" Satoru sang.

It was hard for you to stay quiet, it was hard for you to keep your lungs filled with air, your breathing should be audible now even at the other side of the door.

"Love?"

Your eyes were tearing up.

Satoru paused waiting for an answer but you couldn't mutter any.

"Baby, I'm going in." His tone deeper, not wanting to play his usual façade anymore. He tried pushing the door open again. You pushed your whole weight against it to keep it close.

A hiccup.

No.

No, no, no. Be quiet.

You bit your lip.

Love, please just give me a moment. You prayed to yourself.

A ruffling sound, then he knocked twice.

"Baby, what's wrong, would you let me in, please?", he asked softly.

Please, just wait. Why can’t you wait until I’m ready?

"I'm okay!" You repeated. "Just give me a second."

On the other side Satoru heard your voice tremble.

Fuck.

He buried his hands on his hair and pulled.

Fuck.

He knew he should have kept bothering you about it. You still looked like you were in shock, you were still clearly processing what had happened.

Earlier that day he was told about a case he had to look into. It was a silly little curse, they said, but because there was no one else available they asked Satoru to go, and because he wanted to take you out on a whim, he called you to come along with him.

He was so busy playing around with the weird looking thing, putting on a show for you, that he didn’t notice anything odd about it until later on.

It had the general shape of a human except with longer arms and legs. It moved slowly so as not to lose its balance because of its long limbs. In a rush of excitement as your eyes were glued to him, he moved around it and used his flashiest kicks and punches. He was usually childish for the fun of it, but knowing how much it made you laugh, sometimes it got to his head and turned him actually stupid.

He was more aware of where you were and where you were looking at than he was aware of the curse. He noticed that something was about to go wrong from your expression first rather than by seeing it by himself.

When he turned his head around to look back at the curse it had doubled in size. He was in a jump midair and trying to process what was happening, it took him a second longer to realize that it had suddenly launched at you two with greater strength. At that moment, he was in an awkward position to stop it and whatever move he made would be delayed by a fraction.

He saw it as it happened in slow motion.

It was something outside of your league.

It was suddenly so much faster and wilder, nothing like the slow guy he had been dancing around a second ago.

It noticed the difference in power and you being the most vulnerable of the two.

You and Satoru were separated by a considerable distance. Its form morphed once again. It moved forward, opening a mouth full of raiser teeth, and splitted into two. One half moved in Satoru’s direction and tried to corner him, and the other— jumped aiming at your throat.

Satoru saw red.

When he came back to himself, the woods burned and there was a gaping hole on the earth where the curse had been. He turned around to ask you if you were okay, and as soon as he did his blood went cold. Your eyes were wide open, one hand covering your mouth, the other holding your stomach. Horror.

He was no stranger to that look. Many people looked at him as if he were a monster after they realized what he could do with so little effort. He enjoyed it, sometimes. He didn’t care most of the time. But now he realized he had made a terrible mistake.

Truth be told, when you came about he started to be a little wary of it. He wasn’t hiding it, his reputation preceded him, you were meant to find out about it sooner or later. He was just more cautious. He tried to not overdo it anymore, especially in front of you; he would make up excuses so you couldn’t come with him to certain missions and he would keep a close eye on the noisiest pair of elders so they wouldn’t run their mouths in front of you.

After you came into his life, the title of the strongest was more annoying than ever. Hunting, even. It caught your interest, it always caught everyone’s interest, but how many could look at him the same before and after witnessing what it actually meant?

His heart beated heavily on his chest.

He untangled his fingers from his hair, clearing the lump on his throat, making sure to keep his tone non-threatening.

“I’m not going to open it, baby. You can come out when you’re ready. I will sit right here, yeah?”

Nothing.

Satoru pressed his eyes closed, thinking full speed what he should do next. He was surprised by the rush of adrenaline that embedded his system. His body was instinctively ready to kick the door open but he held himself back. He had to keep a cool head, he needed to avoid scaring you further.

Think.

A sob came out from the bathroom.

No. No, please, don’t cry.

“Love, please. Let me give you a hug. Open the door for me.”

He had been too careless. He needed to apologize properly. He needed to see you and reassure you that he loved you more than anything and he would never hurt you. But at the same time –he realized– he was scared to see that same expression on your face again.

He held both hands to each side of the door frame, letting his head fall. What you two had was still fragile, it was still too early for a problem this size.

He was scared.

He had no right to try to hold you back just yet when this didn't even have a name. He was sure he wanted to keep you with him, he had known for a long time before he approached you to ask for a first date.

It was delicate.

Gojo Satoru was a god, they named him that and so stripped him away from his humanity; like so, he grew up empty. He was scared you could see that, how far away he was from human.

It was dangerous, for you and for him since no matter how many people talked about the lengths of his powers he came to know by experience that there were many things he could still not reach nor control. So many people wanted so much from him, and he attracted so many others with ill intents. On his darkest night he felt the strings that picked at his skin, holding to his limbs. An all powerful puppet.

But he met you and he was fool enough to think he could try.

He placed his hand against the door and called your name in a whisper.

“Please, please, open the door, love.”

But could he really let you go without giving a fight if you rejected him?

“I'm sorry. Please give me another chance. Please talk to me.”

Could he fight this greed that grew on his chest everytime he was around you?

“I would never, ever hurt you–”

His voice cracked.

He felt pathetic.

The reporter talking on TV warned the public of intense rains to come, and the most powerful sorcerer felt his eyes prickling and gritted his teeth.

Around you he didn't feel like the titan that people talked about and recoiled from. He was the Satoru that had been lost along the halls of the Gojo estate as a little kid, and the Satoru that was healed and held before he lost half of his soul later on. He felt complete again. Person again.

But what if he lost all of it. Again. Because of all his power. Again.

His head fell forward as the door opened, just an inch, taking him by surprise. Your eye picked through the crack, your cheek was covered in tears.

He blinked and stared, feeling his heart break by seeing you like this.

“Hello.” He said, a lame attempt to break the silence.

“I'm fine, I promise.” Your voice trembled on every word.

He sighed painfully.

Satoru straightened his posture and held a hand to the door. You visibly trembled and gave a step back, you looked like you wanted to protest but didn't say anything.

He opened the door completely and stepped into the bathroom. You followed his every move with your eyes, you tried to fight back the worst of your instincts, the ones that told you that this man could always do as he wished with you and you wouldn't be able to escape it.

He moved his arms up and you guessed he was going to go for a hug. It was hard for you to reciprocate just now, so instead you closed your eyes and nodded, to let him know it was okay.

But you didn't expect to be hugged by the waist, his head on your stomach.

You opened your eyes with confusion. Satoru was kneeling over the bathroom floor, hugging your legs with his head buried on your towel.

“I swear” he said in all seriousness, “I will never hurt you.”

He squished a little bit more, almost making you fall out of balance.

“I swear”, he repeated.

You felt his desperate grip, and as his fear sinked in, your's wavered, and you could finally feel how truly wrong you were about fearing this man.

“Satoru…” you called.

“Mhmm?” He said but didn't look up the way you wanted to so you could see his dazzling eyes.

You buried one hand in his silk hair and carefully ran your fingers through it. “Love, look at me.”

He refused, pressing his face harder against you.

You kneeled instead. There were you, with your face covered in tears with nothing but a towel, and Satoru with wet sweatpants on the damped floor and refusing to let you see him. You hugged him and felt his heart beating fast against his chest matching your's.

“I am the one who is sorry.” You whispered.

He held you with all his strength, almost leaving you out of air.

“I believe you. I don't know why I reacted that way. But I promise I believe you and that won't happen again.”

His breath shook against the skin of your neck. You run your fingers along his nape, reassuring him. He nodded and kissed your neck before ultimately raising his head and looking at you.

There were no tears but his eyes shined brighter. You held his face with both hands and brought him down so your noses would touch. The way he looked at you with those eyes, as if you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. You saw it clear as day, you had nothing to fear.

You moved closer so your lips would touch just slightly, “I love you, Satoru”, you said.

“I love you too”, he whispered.

[rafecameroninterlude]

hi! i just found your blog and i wanted to say i love it so much! ur vibe is so cutesy. i was wondering if you could write a drabble about sucking rafe off after he has a good night for business and hes all proud of himself and once you two get home from the party he sold all the coke at you just get on your knees in front of your bed and say you wanna make ur daddy feel good 🤗🤗🤗. -👛

warnings: fluff, dealing of drugs, mentions of marriage and pregnancy, slight praise, oral (m receiving), use of the name daddy (just once)

“eight hundred, nine hundred.. three thousand!” you and rafe shouted, both of you hugging each other tightly as he stuffed the wad of cash in his pocket. “what the fuck?!” he smiled like he couldn’t believe he made that much money in the last hour. you bounced in his lap, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “see, i told you you’d sell out!” he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you up with him as he slung his now empty backpack over his shoulder. the ride back home consisted of rafe blasting his music, the wind blowing through your hair as he hollered out the window.

“are you happy?” rafe intertwined his fingers with yours, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. “only with you by my side.” you swear your heart melted into a puddle on the floor as he pulled into the driveway of tanneyhill. “don’t touch that door handle.” you laughed as you watched him run around the truck, a squeal sounding from your mouth when he whisked you away, making your sandal fall off. “rafe!” he shushed you. “i’ll get it in the mornin’.” you slapped his chest playfully, surrendering to him as he carried you inside. “this is how i’d take you upstairs after our wedding on the beach.” you gazed up at him, sighing dreamily as he stopped in front of his bedroom door.

“yeah?” he hummed, taking you inside where he softly laid you down on his bed. “and then i’d make the sweetest love to you, ‘make sure you get all pretty and pregnant.” he leaned in, kissing you gently. there was no better feeling than being able to submit to rafe when he gave you all the reassurance and love you never had to ask for. before you could welcome him between your legs, he pulled away, emptying his pockets on the dresser. you bit your lip, sliding your dress down your thighs until you were left in nothing but your underwear. rafe watched you lower yourself on your knees, his gaze darkening once you met his eyes in the mirror.

“why are you on the floor?” he knew why, but he wanted to hear the words leave your lips. “.. i just want to make my daddy feel good.” he nodded, more to himself than you, his cock already hardening in his shorts. he walked over, manspreading as he took a seat at the edge of the bed. you ran your hands over his thighs, your perfectly manicured fingers working him out of his clothes. “you know.. everything you do, i know you do it for us,” you brought a hand down to his erection, “for me..” your lips skimmed his ear, making him shudder. “you always take care of me,” he watched you take him out of his boxers, your eyes gleaming with need, “can i take care of you?”

it wasn’t long before you had rafe in your throat, his fingers tugging at the roots of your hair while he struggled to keep his eyes open. “oh my fucking god.” his jaw clenched as tears started forming in your eyes. he had made you clasp your hands behind your back so he could thrust his hips into your mouth at an unforgiving speed. you knew once he held your head at his pubic bone that he was going to cum. you moaned at the same time he did, swallowing around his tip while you took every drop of his hot load. rafe was a groaning mess as he came down from his high, pulling you off of his cock with a gasp. “you okay, baby?” he rubbed the spots of your scalp that he was pulling on. “yes,” your voice sounded raw, making rafe stroke your chin.

“let’s get in the shower, we have a long day of shopping tomorrow.”

[gisellaaa]

i look at you wondering where your mind is at; you’re the first choice in my heart always

bb6 | being selected as a celebrity captain along side your brothers for the nhl all stars games was a situation you never thought of. leading up to the games, you made jack and quinn promise that brock would be the first pick. but after a small fight the morning of the games, you decide otherwise.

a/n this was fun to write and i love brock so much so if you guys want more bb6, please send some requests!! i’ll write a more smutty part two at the request of you guys :)

There were many things you loved that you had to give up due to your brother’s successful hockey careers. Your parents were already stressed out with three boys who all loved hockey, but you added stress on top of that. All your life, you never really enjoyed playing hockey. You played one year, just to prove to your mom you didn’t enjoy it. Ellen took the news with a heavy heart, but decided to give you options of what to pursue next. That’s when the entire Hughes family pinpointed your special talent. It wasn’t hockey, or volleyball, or golf even. It was singing.

After the realization, Ellen quickly found the best talent coach in Michigan for you. Moira, your singing coach, helped you develop the skills necessary for being the next big pop star. Fast forward to now, 20 years old, and you were jumping the charts. After opening on the Era’s tour for Taylor Swift, then the release of your first album Emails I Can’t Send, you were the next big thing. The media loved it all, they ate the news for breakfast.

Every single Hughes child was successful. Ellen and Jim got tons of recognition for raising successful children.

Currently, you resided in Vancouver with your older brother Quinn. Throughout the past years of living with him, you grew to adore his teammate Brock. What started as a friendship between two people who would confide in each other during tough times, blossomed into the dream healthy romantic relationship.

When you received the invitation to be a celebrity coach for the NHL All Stars game, you quickly accepted under one circumstance. That you’d coach alongside your brothers. Of course when the news was released, everyone went wild. On top of that, you got to join one of your close friends Tate as a coach. Tate had reached out one drunken night, asking for either your brother or Brock to fight Cole during a Canucks vs. Blue Jackets game. Since then, your friendship with her was as thick as thieves.

The morning of the All Stars draft had been going smoothly. You made Quinn and Jack to promise to pick Brock first, and they listened. You knew of their planning schemes with some of the other coaches, practically planning the draft before it happened.

You sat on the hotel bed, shoving cereal into your mouth. Brock was showering, getting prepared for the red carpet he had to attend before the draft. He came out, dressed in black pants and a white sweater. You furrowed your eyebrows at him, a curious look forming.

“What happened to your other outfit?” You asked, setting the cereal down on the bed side table. Brock quickly looked up at you, then looked back in the mirror. “Decided not to wear it.” Brock nonchalantly answered.

“Oh?”

“Don’t be like that, doll. It’s not anything crazy. Just figured I’d look more professional.” Brock explained, walking to sit on the bed. You scooted further away from him, a glare settling on your face. “So your first outfit wasn’t professional?” You asked, eyebrows raised.

“Why are you making it a big deal?” Brock’s voice came across aggressive, causing you to scoff. “Because it was your idea? And I was excited to see you wear it.” You stated, quickly getting off the bed.

Brock watched as you gathered your makeup bag and other things needed to get ready for the entire day. You started to head towards the door when you heard his voice again. “Where are you going?”

Your hand clasped the door handle, pulling to door open. “To my brother’s room. I don’t want to deal with you or this right now. Just know you upset me and I’m angry.” You stated, leaving the room quickly.

Quinn and Olivia’s room was a few doors down and you were convinced you’d enjoy being around them more than Brock right now. You knocked loudly, hearing some shuffling before Quinn opened the door. Before he got a chance to speak, you shoved past him, setting your things down.

“What are you doing?” Quinn asked, shutting the door behind him. “Or do I even want to know?”

“Brock made me upset and I don’t want to be around him. I figured Olivia would enjoy having a friend to get ready with.” You answered, looking around for her. The bathroom door quickly opened, Olivia standing in a robe with curlers in her hair. “Y/N!” Olivia smiled.

“Hi Olivia, Brock made me mad. Now I’m here.” You greeted her, a smile on your face. Olivia gasped, crossing her arms. “What did he do?” Olivia questioned. You glanced up at Quinn, who was definitely more curious than Olivia.

“He changed his outfit, so now he isn’t wearing his special shirt.” You stated, shrugging. Olivia’s eyes widened, a scoff falling from her lips. “You mean the shirt he paid like $80 for? The shirt that has your face on it? The one he specifically bought for this?” Questions quickly fell from Olivia’s mouth as disbelief spilled through her tone.

“I’m going to Jack’s. You guys have fun.” Quinn left the room, hearing enough from the story. “Yes that shirt! He said he wanted to be more professional.” You exclaimed, a sad look forming on your face.

“What an asshole!”

You and Olivia finished getting ready, but you had to be at the Scotia Bank Area sooner than her since you were a coach. When you arrived, you were immediately swarmed and overwhelmed by the girls wanting pictures and autographs. You tried your best to speak to everyone and at least hold a conversation with them. Your agent, Thalia, stayed close by. She ensured you were making good time. For one moment she stepped away for a phone call.

“They want you for interviews now, sweet heart.” Thalia informed, ushering you forward. You were led to a room filled with reporters, players, the other celebrity coaches and captains. Once you were spotted by Tate, she quickly ran over to you.

“Oh my gosh! You look so good.” Tate gushed, pulling you into a hug. You smiled, quickly reciprocating the gesture. “Thank you, you look great yourself.” You replied, pulling away.

“I was surprised when Brock was brought back here without you. Are you guys okay?” Tate asked, her voice quiet as reporters were currently interviewing Auston, Morgan, and Justin.

“Got in an argument this morning, so I’m not speaking to him.” You shrugged, ignoring his stares from across the room. “Guess he should be reminded that even though the draft is planned, I can still have a little fun.” You added, a devious smirk on your face.

“You are evil. I love it.” Tate giggled, pinching your shoulder softly. “Oops, gotta go, it’s my turn.” Tate waved, walking over to Cale and Nate. You moved over to your brothers and Elias.

“Pst. Can we wait till after we draft the last Goalie to pick Brock?” You whispered, the plan already forming in your head. Quinn, already knowing of the argument, rolled his eyes. “They got in an argument over his shirt.” Quinn quickly explained.

Elias had a confused look on his face, but let out a sigh. “I guess, but don’t you think that’s mean?” He asked, his eyebrows pinched together. “Mean? Sure, but I could be writing a song about him so what’s a little harmless fun?” You answered.

All four boys stared at you, then looked at each other. “If you don’t do it, I’m going to tell mom.” You spoke harshly, staring directly at your brothers. “You know how upset she gets when her brothers don’t listen to her only little princess,”

“Fine, fine. He will go after the goalies. Just don’t tell mom.” Quinn shook his head, slightly annoyed at his sister’s antics. “She’s got a point. Shouldn’t we be sticking up for our sister?” Jack agreed, gesturing towards you.

The rest of the interviews went well, except for when a reporter requested for you to do an interview with Brock. The interaction was tense, only short answers given from the both of you. You were sure the clips would quickly be on Twitter from your fan base, but oh well.

The draft started quicker than ever, the Hughes team getting the chance to pick the first player. You already told Brock that he was the intended first pick, but after deliberating with your brothers and Elias, Nikita Kucherov was going to be your first selection. You requested to be the person to announce it, just to see the look on Brock’s face.

“Team Hughes, are you ready for your first pick?” Jamie asked, looking at the group of four. Everyone nodded, agreeing on their final selection. You took a small step forward, a smile on your face as some fans cheered. “We chose Nikita Kucherov from the Tampa Bay Lightening,” You announced, eyes quickly locking to Brock.

Brock rolled his eyes, running a hand down his face. J.T. Miller nudged him, a curious look on his face. You shook Nikita’s hand, letting him go grab his jersey.

Quinn ended up picking most of his team, along with Brady Tkachuk, Jesper Bratt, and Cam Talbot. After a commercial break, the choice was back to the Hughes Team. You took a step forward, waiting for Jamie to give you the go.

“I guess, we are picking Brock Boeser. Even though he didn’t wear his shirt with my face on it, then was mean to me.” You scrunched your face, watching as Brock skated up while shaking his head.

You held your hand over your microphone as he pulled you into a hug. “You are in trouble, doll.” Brock mumbled in your ear, then promptly skated off to receive his jersey. You had a small smirk on your face, clapping as he received his jersey.

The rest of the event went smoothly, thankfully. Now you were pilled into Uber’s that were driving you to the bar that Auston Matthews rented out for the night. You were squished in between Brock and Elias, uncomfortably squirming in the seat at some of the potholes in the road.

Brock’s arm hung loosely behind your seat, his hand occasionally tugging at loose strands of your hair. To which you’d return a nudge at his side, and he would always react with a low chuckle.

“Scoot over, I know you are uncomfortable.” Brock leaned over to whisper in your ear. Jack was blasting music loudly in the Uber so it wasn’t hard for Brock’s voice to get drowned out by anyone but you.

You glared at Brock, but still scooted over to sit in his lap. “You still mad at me?” Brock continued to speak quietly, his hand squeezing at your exposed thigh.

You nodded, continuing the fun ignoring game you liked to play when you were mad. Brock hated it, despised it actually. Yet, you still did it because Brock would always find a pleasuring new way to deal with your attitude.

“Come on, don’t act like I don’t know what you did. I’m sure you loved convincing your captains to switch the draft order, all over a silly argument.” Brock spoke, tugging at another strand in your hair.

You looked at him in confusion, wondering who snitched to him. “You think Pettersson would keep it from me?” Brock now had an amused expression on his face.

Thankfully the conversation was put on pause as you arrived to the bar. Brock tapped your ass as you pushed open the door. Tonight, your plan was to continue to be angry at Brock, just to catch a reaction out of him. And boy, would it be a fun night.

[ebodebo]

i have a benedict bridgerton idea for you queenie! okay so reader works for the bridgerton family and she and has a huge huge huge crush on benedict. so one night she goes to his room (for whatever reason you pick) and she hears him jerking off and she's like !!! and then he moans her name and she's even more like !!!

you can fill in the rest wink wink

Illicit Affairs

NSFW CONTENT

—benedict bridgerton x reader

—2.2k+

wanna be on my taglist ? fill out this form !

Graphite pencils, quill pens, and an inkwell lay spread across the mahogany wooden table in the corner of the drawing-room, close to the bay window that overlooked the gardens. 

Several pieces of rag paper were spread across the table, and some even crumbled onto the floor, tainted by lead and ink. Judging from the messy lilacs and composition of a forest on the papers, you guessed Benedict had tried his hand at scenery drawings. 

The head maid had asked you to clean up his things, and you were, but surely there was no shame in seeing what kept the man occupied seemingly all day and all night.

You brushed your hand over the sketches, taking note of each delicately drawn petal and leaf, up to the bark on trees that looked so existent you swore you could feel the harshness of the wood along your fingertips.

As you scanned the sketches, gently picking them up, your eyes dilated as you noted a familiar face before you. Surely, it couldn't be, but it was hard to succumb to that idea when it was the same face you stared at in the mirror every day, your own.

He had drawn your eyes, lips, jaw, and even minor details, which you didn't even know anyone noticed, in his precious ink. You grasped the paper by the corner, holding it in eye view, unable to comprehend what you were seeing.

"Have you yet finished, my dear?" Your mother's voice echoed off the walls as she entered the room. You jumped back slightly at her voice, turning quickly to face her, clenching the paper behind your back.

"I…um…have to deliver a particular…thing to Mr. Bridgerton," you gab as you attempt to move past her, tucking the drawing into your apron pocket, though she's quick to grab your arm.

"Dearest, tis' late. It would be best if you did not wake him," she furrows her brows before glancing at the mess still scattered on the table and giving you a disapproving look. "You have not yet done cleaning, I see."

"I must make haste, mama. I do not wish to keep him waiting any further," you urge, putting your hand over hers to pull it off. She gives you another disapproving glance. You sigh, becoming slightly orated by her disagreeable state.

"Do you really wish for me to keep a Bridgerton waiting, mama," you raise a brow, a knowing look plastered on your face.

"I suppose—" She begins before you kiss her cheek and exit the room, heading towards the grand staircase to ascend the stairs, feeling the paper burn a hole through the cloth of your apron.

Your heart pounded as you reached the end of the stairs, clammy hand slipping off the end of the railing to rest against your side. You took deliberately slow steps down the corridor, slowly inching towards Benedict's room.

You stand in front of his door, deciding to simply slip the sketch under his door so as not to wake him. As you bend down to your knees, head close to the door, you hear something curious.

Ragged breaths slip through the crack under the door and hit your ears. You lean closer so you can hear the noises more clearly. He's muttering curses and spewing prayer after prayer—a soft 'shlick,' 'shlick,' 'shlick' repeated in a synchronized pattern. 

You had not a single clue what he was doing. Perhaps he needed assistance?

"Mr. Bridgerton," you tentatively question, though you receive no answer. The sounds in the room halt. You lean even closer.

"Mr. Bridgerton, are you in need of assistance?" You repeat a little more persistently. Again, no answer. Your hand moves to grip the door handle.

You tell yourself that if he fails to answer once more, you will go in to ensure he is alright.

"Are you quite well, sir?" You ask. Once again, there was no answer. You turn the knob quickly, pushing the door open to see him. Your eyes take in the view. Benedict was unclothed from his waist down, with a sketch in his hand. A sketch that looked eerily similar to you. His cock rests in his hand, his face gleaming with a light sheen of perspiration that made the front pieces of his hair stick to his skin.

Your eyes widen as you stumble back.

"Mr. Bridgerton, I—I am quite sorry. You seem quite…occupied," you avert your eyes awkwardly away from him. "Pardon my intrusion," your voice is unstable from embarrassment, and you feel your face heat as you turn on your heels towards the door. He quickly outstretches his hand to grasp at your own.

Your breath feels like it has been sucked from your diaphragm as you feel his skin on yours. You flick your eyes to him in an instant. His pupils are dilated. "You have not a thing to apologize for," he finally speaks, his voice steady. It was odd, considering you had just walked in on him pleasuring himself, and his cock was still out.

You pay no heed to the words coming from him as your eyes drift from his eyes to his hand on yours to his erect cock mere inches away from you. Your lips part slightly as you exhale a small sigh at the sight of such an intimate part of him that you should not be seeing, now or ever. Though, you couldn't help the knot that formed in your lower stomach at the view.

"Are you curious?" He asks, though his voice is low and rough this time around. You flick your widened eyes to him, mouth agape at his insinuation.

"Pardon me, Mr. Bridgerton, but you are truly mad," you laugh out, pulling your hand away from his and turning away from him.

"Am I?" He smoothly questions. You swivel your head towards him, letting out a huff.

"You are, sir," you confirm, your voice containing humor.

"No need for the formalities," he quips, the corners of his lips quirking at your perplexity. "Call me Benedict, I insist."

"I cannot," you shake your head as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Tell me," he inches closer to you, making sure to take in your body language. He raises his hand to reach for yours, pulling it from its place tucked under your forearm. "Is this formal?"

"Well, I—I suppose it is not," you stutter as he brings your hand to rest against his cheek, allowing you to feel his freshly shaven skin. His eyes are light, you notice. Lighter than you initially thought. 

"Then, there is no need for the formalities," he shrugs casually.

This was preposterous. You are a mere housemaid with blasphemous conceptions about someone you work for. It was unprecedented and unacceptable. Your only job was to aid the Bridgertons when they needed help, not fantasize about one of them in a compromising position.

"I am only to help you when you need assistance," you piously say, dropping your hand from his face, though he can read through you. You considered his offer; your eyes and clammy hands said it all.

"In truth, I need your assistance greatly," he tuts.

"Oh," you raise a brow, as the corner of your lip lifts to form a soft smirk. 

"You see, I am in a great deal of pain," his voice was sardonic. "Could you find it in your heart to aid in taking the ache away?"

"Pain, you say?" You bring your finger and press it on your chin, plastering a thoughtful expression. "That might constitute for my help, I suppose," you begin. "I am here to aid you in all your endeavors. Am I not?" You smile smugly, watching his eyes drift to your plush lips. 

You don't know why, but the way his eyes gloss over, taking in a feature so simple makes you feel a sense of confidence. You gently raise your hand to tilt his chin slightly, making his eyes lock with yours.

"Am I not?" You repeat, slightly more assured. His eyelids lazily close over only half of his eye as his mouth opens slightly.

"You are," he murmurs out. A self-satisfied smile spreads across your face at his compliance. You find yourself placing the palms of your hands on his chest, gently nudging him to a nearby wooden chair to sit. He leans his head back to rest his neck on the back of the chair, breathing labored at your touch.

As you move to sink to your knees between his spreading legs, out of the corner of your eye, you see another loose paper lying just next to you on the floor. You turn fully to look at it, grasping the corner of it with your hand to examine it.

It was similar to the sketch of yourself you found in the drawing room. Though, this sketch's ink seemed much more messy and tainted.

"Poor man," you flip the sketch to show him, a phony frown on your face. "You were using just this?" His eyes lazily dragged over the sketch in your hands to your face right next to it.

"I am afraid so," he tuts. You push the simple sketch into his hands before you bring your hands to his soft linen shirt, slowly slipping it off until it falls somewhere off to the side—his eyes on you the entire time.

"Do you wish to look at your sketch of me or the real me?" You ask, placing your hands on either of his thighs as you see his eyes bounce from you to the sketch and back to you.

His lip quirks as he crumbles up the sketch, tossing it to his side. You let out a light chuckle, bringing your face closer to where he aches. Your lips nearly grazed his erect cock.

"Whatever will you use now?" You breathe out, hyper-aware of his cock so close to you.

"I will find you," he breathes out, bringing his hand to grip your plump cheek. You smile before sticking your tongue out to swirl around the head softly. He hisses at the contact, moving his hand to rest in your hair.

"Dear God," he groans out as you sink him further into your mouth, flattening your tongue and tilting your head back slightly so the head slides across the roof of your mouth and skims against your teeth. His hand in your hair tightens as you suck gently as he slides in and out of your mouth.

You suck for only a short minute before you pull your mouth off, replacing it with your hand carefully and slowly pumping up and down the length of his cock.

"Is this not just satirical?" You question, paying close attention to his eyes, nearly rolling to the back of his head.

"How do you deduce?" He groans, pushing his head back further and his body up more so his cock moves more in your hand.

"In normal circumstances, I am at the mercy of your family, including you," you say, licking the seam of the lips. You continue your movements, though now they are antagonizing and slow-paced. His eyes shoot back to yours as his mouth widens, releasing ragged breaths and throaty moans.

"Though," you begin, tugging him a little bit harder as he throws his head back against the chair, "in here," his eyes peer into yours, "I am singularly and wholly in control. I have you at my mercy." 

"I quite like being at your mercy," he immediately says. You stroke him a little faster, satisfied with his response.

"Is that so, Benedict?" You inquire as he begins pushing himself into your hand faster, desperate for even more of your touch. 

Your movements continue until his body is convulsing and his mouth hangs open, moaning as he comes all over his thighs and your hand. His head hangs low as his heart palliates and his chest heaves.

You even find your own chest heaving alongside his. He picks his head up slightly to make eye contact with you, bringing his hand to brush against your bottom lip, which unbeknownst to you, was covered in blood from sinking your teeth too deep.

"Are you alright?" He questions, taking in your perplexed look. He hopes you didn't have regrets of what had just occurred since it was taboo in nature.

"I am. Are you?" You regurgitate his question, and he nods, a small smile pulling on his lips. He reaches to the table next to him to grab tissues to clean you and himself up.

Once he wipes you clean of any remnants of himself, he instructs you to make your way back before anyone notices, but not before pressing a light kiss to your temple.

You stand and turn towards the door, reaching out to grab the door handle, but before turning it, you turn your head to face his.

"Glad I could be of assistance," you murmur, not awaiting a response before you fully turn the knob and step out the door.

It may have been unbecoming. Perhaps, unlawful and unconstitutional. And substandard in every sense.

The immorality of the situation does nothing to stop you from slipping your fingers underneath your nightgown that night in your room all by your lonesome, reminiscing of the image and sound of Benedict being subdued by you, a mere housemaid. What a glorious night, indeed.

a/n: benedict is such a bottom idc also regency dirty talk is so hilarious

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[momotonescreaming]

Part One

“Jeff. Jeffers.” Eddie starts, as soon as he opens the door to Jeff’s bedroom, ignoring the way it slams into the wall with the force of it. “I am about to lose my shit.”

“So a normal Saturday, then?” Jeff replies, looking up from the music magazine he’s flipping through, not moving from where he’s reclined across his bed.

Navy blue comforter, pale grey sheets, tucked in tight. His mother’s influence, Eddie knows. Jeff’s mom is a good woman, is cool with the band, and the metal, and the DnD — but she’s a total neat freak. So Jeff makes his bed perfectly everyday, so she won’t barge into his room and do it for him. He bought himself a Motorhead poster from a record store in Bloomington once, and his mom framed it.

So there was Eddie’s room, with all his posters and banners haphazardly tacked to the walls and stuck to the mirror; and then there was Jeff’s, with his carefully curated selection of framed posters. Not very metal, Eddie thought. Jeff always said that if that’s what it took for his mom to accept to metal music? He’d take it.

Eddie shuts the door behind him, making sure it closes with a swift kick of his socked foot, before turning back to his best friend.

“Worse than normal, Jeffy-boy.” Eddie says, emphasising with his hands before gripping them tightly. “I bumped into Henderson at Melvalds this morning and he would not shut the fuck up about Harrington the entire time he trapped me in conversation.”

“Ah,” Jeff simply replies, closing his magazine and placing it off to the side, out of the way. “So it’s a Harrington breakdown today? I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Jeff,” Eddie says, trying to sound stern with all the emphasis on the word, but he’s smiling. Watches as Jeff pats an empty spot on the mattress next to him. He rolls his eyes, playing it up, before flopping face first onto the bed beside Jeff. He groans into the mattress, a long, drawn out sound, and can hear Jeff chuckling at the sound of it. “Please.”

Jeff pats his shoulder comfortingly, hand warm and steady, before Eddie rolls over. Stays laying down, and looks up at the swirly patterns of Jeff’s popcorn ceiling.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Jeff laughs, before turning to look down at Eddie. “So. Harrington.”

Eddie groans again, ignoring the sound of Jeff’s laughter. “I made the mistake of asking Henderson what he was doing later — trying to make fucking small talk, or something — and apparently our little sheepie is hanging out with Steve Harrington.”

“Wait,” Jeff says with a start, his brows furrowing. “Harrington hangs out with freshman nerds? Willingly? And he knows Dustin?”

“Fucking apparently,” Eddie exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air and letting them fall back down onto the mattress with a thump. “Henderson would not shut up about how cool it was Steve was hanging out with him, like he was trying to brag about it to me. Asking me if I fucking knew Steve Harrington like, hello? I live in Hawkins, everyone knows who Harrington is.”

“I was gonna ask if he was lying,” Jeff starts, bringing his hand up to his jaw to absently press and pick at his skin as he thinks. “But you’d think he’s smart enough to lie about something believable, at the very least.”

“He’s definitely lying,” Eddie replies, sighing, letting all the air exit his lungs in one slow exhale. “Because I cannot handle it being the truth. Harrington being hot, rich, charming, and nice to nerds like us? No way.”

“I was wondering when the crush was going to make it’s appearance,” Jeff replies, finally letting himself flop down beside Eddie. Rumpling his nicely made sheets, not caring as his abandoned magazine falls to the floor.

“Oh it’s been here the whole time Jeffothy,” Eddie says, stretching his legs out before letting them relax again. Picking at the navy blue fabric beneath him. “As soon as Dustin said Harrington’s name I felt my traitorous heart speed up.”

Eddie wasn’t lying and he a little felt ridiculous about it. Like some leading lady in a rom-com, the second the words Steve Harrington left Henderson’s mouth he felt his heart clench, his pulse quicken, and a horrid combo of shame and wanting curl around his stomach. His crush on Steve was always there, simmering in the recesses of his mind like the burning embers of a fire. Just waiting for something to come along and set it alight.

“And that’s the main reason you’re losing your shit?”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, sounding a little defeated, before perking himself up and sitting up, the mattress bouncing beneath him. Pushing those thoughts to the side. Thoughts of Steve Harrington and his amazing hair. His charming smile and warm eyes. Thoughts about him leaning in towards Eddie as they make conversation, so much Eddie can smell his cologne, his shampoo. And Steve will ask him questions about DnD, and actually sound interested about what Eddie would say back. Shaking his head a little, Eddie forces himself to not get lost in the fantasy.  “But enough about me, Sir Jeffington the Just. Any progress with Chrissy?”

Jeff just snorts, looking up at Eddie. “You say that like there’s progress to be had.”

“Come on,” Eddie starts, nudging Jeff’s side. “There’s gotta be something.”

“Not really,” He replies, taking a deep breath. “I stare at her in the halls at school like a lovesick fool and I don’t think she even knows who I am. There’s no way one of the cheerleaders knows my name.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Eddie replies, pushing himself up off of Jeff’s bed and heads over to his desk, pushed up under the window. He had started to feel that itch under his skin, the twitching of his fingers, that feeling that he just couldn’t sit still anymore. So he moves to the desk, seats himself on Jeff’s nice office chair with the wheels, and fidgets with the mini’s he has scattered on the desk. “You’re hot and charming as hell, at least one of them has gotta know your name.”

“Not Chrissy though,” Jeff says, self-deprecating, pushing his socked foot along the carpet from where it hangs off the bed, gathering static. “Come on.”

Eddie sighs, long and drawn out and dramatic — turning into more of a groan at the end. They had done this song and dance before, Eddie hyping Jeff up, and his best friend responding with self deprecation. Jeff was a guy who was confident in himself, in his hobbies and interests — but when it came to love, he faltered.

Eddie could understand. They were both freaks who’ve never dated anyone, with crushes on two of the most popular teens in Hawkins. Peak conformists. It was never gonna happen but Eddie wanted.

“Fine.” He concedes. “We’re both pathetic, happy now?”

“Thrilled,” Jeff snorts, before sobering. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up, y’know? She’s with Jason and she’s not about to dump him to start looking my way.“

“I know,” Eddie replies, voice also sobering, so there’s something quieter about it now. He gently spins on the chair, pushing himself back and forth with his feet. Trying not to fidget too much, trying not to pick and rip at his nails. “I’m just trying to live vicariously through you a little because I am not handling my conversation with Henderson well. Chrissy just seems one step closer to us than Harrington. At least she’s still at Hawkins High and we actually see her on the regular. But what if Henderson is telling the truth and Steve like, picks him up from Hellfire? Leaning on the door frame, swinging his keys around his fingers, raising an eyebrow all sexy-like. Looking at me from across the room.”

“You think Henderson knows Chrissy as well?” Jeff jokes, sitting up and crossing a leg underneath himself. “Think he could put in a good word?”

Eddie snorts, rotating one of Jeff’s minis between his hands. “Definitely. That nerd is slowly collecting all the sexy jocks in Hawkins, just for us.”

There’s a moment of silence, slowly thickening in the air between them before Jeff sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “What would I even say to her? Hey Chrissy, I’m the DnD freak who thinks you’re super hot. I definitely haven’t started daydreaming about going to basketball games just so I can watch you cheer, wanna go out?”

“Oh my God, Jeff,” Eddie laughs, wiggling his legs, unable to contain himself.

“I know,” Jeff exhales with a laugh.

“When I asked if there was any progress on the Chrissy front,” Eddie says, laughing. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“Because it’s embarrassing! I’m so down bad it’s ridiculous.”

“This is a safe space, Jeffrey,” Eddie adds, nodding sagely. “I told you about how I started selling after games last year just so I could have an excuse to watch Harrington play. Did you see his thighs? Woof.”

“I did not see his thighs because I was busy lying to the others about how you were there because it was prime selling time, and you needed the extra cash to help Wayne,” Jeff adds, laughing., voice dropping into something more coy. Teasing. “And you definitely weren’t there because you were drooling over the idea of Harrington crushing your head in between his thick, sweaty, thighs.”

“As is my right, Jeff!” Eddie exclaims, feeling a little lighter, giddier, electric. A buzzing under his skin. Eddie launches himself off of the chair and towards Jeff — wrapping his arms around his waist and laughing all the while. Sending them both crashing into the mattress, rumpling Jeff’s neatly made bed even further. His face is pressed into Jeff’s chest, fabric of his Black Sabbath shirt soft against Eddie’s skin.

It always makes him feel better, talking about this sort of stuff with Jeff, letting it out, instead of holding it in. Eddie can feel Jeff laughing, his chest shaking underneath him as he wrestles Eddie off. Not hard enough to hurt.

He rolls off of Jeff, letting go of his waist, laughing as Jeff softly kicks him in the leg.

“I really can’t blame you though,” Jeff admits, looking over at Eddie. “Chrissy in that cheerleader skirt of hers is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s all about the thighs, I told you!” Eddie exclaims, laughing as he playfully shoves at Jeff again. Gripping the sleeves of his shirt, gently pushing and pulling him. His best friend lets himself be moved, used to Eddie’s shenanigans by now. “You want to give her a thigh hickey so bad, don’t ya, Jeffrey? Or maybe it’s her ass? All perky and round from cheer.”

Eddie cackles as Jeff covers his face with his hands, groaning, and almost definitely flustered.  He drags his hands down his face, drawing out the groan, before tuning to Eddie.

“I’m trying so hard not to get too gross about this, dude,” Jeff starts. “But you are not helping.”

“Nothing wrong with being a little gross with your friends,” Eddie says, slowly stopping his shoving at Jeff, moving his hand to gently pick at a stray thread. “I know you’re not, like, gonna be gross with her. I mean, unless she likes it.”

“Eddie!” Jeff exclaims, although he’s smiling, as he shoves his best friend off the bed.

Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stolen Goods 5

Warnings: noncon and other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

Ft. Lloyd Hansen, petite!pregnant reader

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

“One triple fudge with oreo,” Lloyd bursts into the room as you lay on your side, dazed and distraught. You blink as he walks sideways into your view. “Hey, baby batter, you asleep?” 

You sniff but don’t answer. You just rub your stomach. You’re starving. You sit up with a groan as you eye the covered tray in his hand. 

“Got a few other things,” he raises a bag in his other, “so, if you want your dessert, you’re gonna have to earn it.” 

“Huh? Earn—But you said--” 

“You give, I give, it evens out in the end,” he sets the tray and bag on the dresser. “So you can have that hunk of sugared cheese but only--” he pauses and reaches into the bag, rustling it, “if you’re wearing this!” 

He pulls out a lacy white teddy with a split front. The sort that when you put it on won’t hide much, especially not your stomach. Your eyes round and you sputter. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, babes, come on. I got you bottoms, don’t worry.” 

He turns back and fishes out a lacy thong. “See?” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“Dead serious. Dead horny,” he smirks and tosses them on the bed. “Now you can put them on and I’ll serve you cake on the tip of my dick if that’s what you want. Or you can see if you get through me. Your choice. I don’t mind either.” 

You look at him. You haven’t forgotten how strong he is. Look what he did at the grocery store. How easily he took over. Now you’re all alone with no one to cry out to for help. You should have done that when you had the chance. 

You pout and reach for the teddy. You hook your finger in the string of the thong and stand. Your moping turns to a grimace. 

“You’re a pervert.”  

“Sure am, sugar tits,” he eyes your dress as he licks his lips. “Fuck, I can’t wait to get all up in the baby goo.” 

“Ew,” you turn and shudder. 

You go into the open bathroom and slam the door. At least there’s that sliver of privacy even if it’s redundant. This damn lingerie won’t hide anything. 

You take your time. You pee then wash your hands before you untangle the lingerie. You undress and mutter as you pull on the thin fabric. Your nipples are pert beneath the sheer cups and your stomach peeks out between the split tails. The thong rides up uncomfortably. 

You turn and give a start as you find yourself gaping back from the full-body mirror on the back of the door. You frown. You don’t look bad but you’re still adjusting to all the changes. Your hips, your tits, your tummy... 

You grab the hand and brace yourself. A knock comes from the other side, “you need help in there, shortcake?” Lloyd calls through. 

You answer him as you swing open the door. A swell of irritation creeps up your spine. You lift your chin and shove his stomach. He hums as he devours you in a glance.

“There. Now give me the cake.” 

“I don’t hear a please or thank you,” he scoffs. 

“I want the cake,” you growl. “Now.” 

You push past him and he lets you past. You go to the dress and uncurl the edges of the tin tray. You peel off the lid and the dusting of oreo crumbs makes your mouth water and your stomach roar. You lick your lips. 

“Allow me,” he approaches as he pulls a knife from inside his jacket and unfolds it, “can’t have you handle sharp objects.” You eye the blade and he points it at you, “Don’t think about it.” 

You back away and he slices into the cake.  

“Bigger,” you demand as he cuts it too small. 

“Damn,” he cuts another piece, “that good? Or you want the whole thing?” 

“May as well,” you grumble. 

He reaches into the bag and takes out a napkin. He wipes the blade off and folds it away. He plucks out a package of paper plates and splits the plastic. He slides one out then finds the box of disposable cutlery. He scoops out the hunk of cake and serves it up with a splat. 

“Here you are,” he faces you. “I want you to eat with your legs open.” 

You shiver. He’s so gross. You’re so hungry you don’t care. You take the plate and the fork from him and retreat. You sit on the foot of the bed and stop before you can stab into the cake. 

“The crust... isn’t oreo.” 

“Hmm?” He crosses his arms and tilts his head. You push your knees together. 

“It’s graham cracker,” you sneer at him. “I said oreo crust!” 

“Ah come on, shortcake, how could I know? Cake is cake, right?” 

“No, I want chocolate!” 

“There’s chocolate--” 

You snarl and drop the plate on the floor. “You said you would get me what I wanted.” 

“Okay, well, you don’t have to be a child about it--” 

“I don’t-- you abducted me! You put me in a trunk,” you kick your feet as your eyes water. “I’m pregnant and all you’ve done is mistreated me.” 

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration--” 

You cover your face as you heave, “you’re mean!” 

“No, I got you cake. You’re just being picky.” 

“I’m scared and emotional and hormonal,” you lift your head and growl at him. “And I’m hungry!” 

You stand and step around the cake. You march towards him and he winces. You jab him in the ribs.  

“I need food for my baby and if I don’t get an oreo crust, I’m going to—I'm going to--” your blink as another flow of tear swells, “I’m going to break down!” 

Your tears stream out and you try to mop them away. He looks startled as he stares down at you. Then his eyes fall down to your chest and his brows rise. 

“You know what, baby, I’ll get you the right cake,” he grins. “And I’ll lick all the crumbs off your tits for you.” 

You snivel and wipe your nose, “why are you so gross?” 

“Wish I could say but all the bloods no longer in my brain,” he shrugs and gives a wink. “Now, let me go find you that damn oreo crust.” 

[eroticismzz]

BLITZED — dealer!onyankopon

001. c/w: smut (mdni), f!reader, smoking, petnames, cunnilingus, blowjob, cursing, penetration, slight overstim, mutual pinning modern!au

002. w/c: 2.7k

After successfully finishing your shift at work, you glance over to the clock on the wall that sharply read ‘7:30’ in the afternoon. The other staff you work alongside aka the younger trainees in your hair salon that you hired were already out the door, you felt generous enough to let them off early due to it being a Friday.

Walking over to the spare mirror, you place your equipment down, taking time to fix your own wig.You wanted to look presentable to your dealer Onyankopon afterall, he’d compliment your wigs every time you’d buy from him. It brought a different type of a blush on your face no man has brought before, whenever he says “You look good ma, new color?”. Just thinking of it brought flutters to your stomach, fixing the rest of your appearance to what you’d been wearing today.

You smiled as you sufficiently finished you hair, humming as you picked up your work-tote bag before glancing at the clock again, only fifteen minutes had passed so you decided it’d be best not to keep Ony waiting any longer. He wasn’t a man of patience afterall.

You gathered your keys in your palm, walking over to your car while unlocking it, moving to gather up the money you owed for the eighth, getting ready to drive by your usual spot with him by one of the more deserted alley ways near your crib.

It wasn’t a far drive, making your way to the front of the ally way to park. You could feel your fingers tingling with excitement as you shut your car off, shutting the door behind you as you made way to the silhouette in the dimly lit space.

“You 20 mins late ma.” His husky voice echoed in the tight pathway with a sight of him smoking a blunt, low eyes staring you down that made you feel small. “My fault, had to fix my lace a bit Ony..” He paused as he took a hit, blowing the smoke away from your face before reaching in his pocket. You reached to hand him the money but he’d stop you before you got the chance.

“Nah, you get this one for free..” This caused you to pause, looking at him with almost a shell shocked gaze. “But you never do that, what's up with you lately?.”. He gave a low chuckle in response, the sound causing your ears to get hot as you squeezed on the handle of your bag just a little tighter. “Cause you look a little too good today.. Jus’ take it.” He held it out to you, hesitantly taking it to pocket it as you felt your thighs squeeze at his answer. He shouldn’t be making you react so.. stimulated. Ony must’ve noticed as well, reaching to hand you his blunt.

You took it, taking a long inhale as he watched you intently, licking his lips. You felt the red eyes peering down at you, only making you feel more giddy as you exhaled shortly after, the weed in your system making your mouth tingle as you took another puff, handing it back over. Your fingers slightly brushed as he took it back, not hesitating to take a puff of his own.

The air had a tension to it, yet you exhaled to speak. “You wanna do this in my car? You look goofy in this alleyway Ony..”. He let out a low chuckle at your words, placing his free-hand in his pocket while looking at you. “I’m down if you’re down.” Was all he said. Allowing you to lead him inside your car as he took another hit once the door closed. You felt nervous, butterflies in your stomach as you could smell the mixture of cannabis and cologne lingering off Ony that caused you to shuffle a bit in your seat, thighs clenching. “Here.” He handed the blunt to you, taking it as you took another puff. Feeling his hungry eyes gazing at you from the side, making you tremble, making you sweat.

“Whatchu’ nervous for ma?” he smiled, knowing the effect he had on you. That motherfucker. He almost folded when he saw your eyes starting to lower, glossed over eyes countering his gaze as you handed it back. “Cause you keep starin’ dickneck.” He laughed at this, licking his lips before finishing the rest of the blunt while you reached to crack the window ever so slightly.

Ony tipped his head back, adam's apple in full view of the streetlight that kissed his skin so beautifully. You took this time to stare at him, studded earrings complimenting the hat he wore. He was handsome, his tatted arms showing out in his white tee. It made your mouth dry, reaching in your pocket to reapply your lip gloss, oblivious to Ony side eyeing you like a starved man.

“Jus’ got off your shift? Got that eager to see me, huh?”, “Not too much, I just wanted my shit before I spent my money.”, “Rightt.. Jus' say you’re excited to see me.” He sounded almost cocky, leaning over the console to get a better look at your face. Your breath hitched, a glance at his lips before you looked into his eyes. A hand creeping to your thigh as you both felt the weed get further in your system. “Can I kiss you?” He murmured as if he was holding himself back. You could only let out a nod before he smashes his lips against yours, a small moan as your lipgloss smeared against his two-toned lips. You felt yourself crawling across to straddle yourself on his lap, firm hands on your sides as you both deepened the kiss, tongue running on your bottom lip.

Once you pulled away you looked at him licking his lips, checking you out before looking back into your eyes with a hazy smile. It made you feel small, moving a sleeve as an attempt to cover your face yet Ony wasn’t having it, gently gripping your wrist. “Nah, lemme see that pretty face.. been thinking about you too much ma” He smiled, moving to leave gentle kisses along your jawline, down to your collarbone causing a small jump, “Ony-”. Your scent felt intoxicating to him, making him only want to continue to stir you on.

Your nails snaked up his white tee, feeling his abs tense at the cold feeling of your hands against him while he gave pecks on your neck. “Ony please.. more.” was all you had to utter, Ony moving quickly to place you on the backseat, following afterwards. “What can I do to make you feel good?” He stared at you, “I wanna make you feel good.” His words make you melt, gripping his shoulders as you stare at him. “Surprise me..”. The words were enough to have him gently pushing you back, kneeling on the floor of your car as he was slotted between your legs. “Can I make you feel good ma?” You nodded, helping him pull down your sweatpants. Ony swore he fell in love with your scent as he smelt you closer, moving a teasing finger to the small damp spot on your panties. You let out a small whimper, peering down at the man in awe as he kept teasing you while you rested your legs on his shoulders.

The weed calmed your nerves, normally you’d be nervous to the point you couldn’t even stare but you watched as he pulled your panties slowly, direct eye contact as he kept a smile with his pearly whites that only stirred you on more. “Lemme prep you, want my fingers or mouth?” He waited for a response, hot breath right where you wanted him most, “Mouth- please Ony i’m tired of the teasing..” You mustered out as he gave a low laugh before reaching to pepper your inner thighs with kisses.

You couldn’t help but make out small whimpers in response, biting the inner part of your cheek out of excitement due to you wanting him for so long. “Ony plea-“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence, the man diving between your legs and laying his tongue flat to lick a swipe directly on your pussy. Letting out a moan even you were embarrassed by, the man would laugh, sending vibrations right by your clit.

He took a moment to breathe, laughing a bit at your body’s reaction to him. “That eager for me ma? Shitt… that turns me on.” He was so filthy with his words, causing your face to heat up more than you even thought was possible at this moment. However Ony wouldn’t waste any time going back down on you, tonguing your pussy as a thumb reached up to circle your clit slowly to make you moan just how he liked it, your sounds going straight to the tent in his pants. “Fuckfuckfuck-“ Was all you could utter as he tongue fucked you, building up to the familiar pressure you’d feel in your lower stomach everytime you got horny thinking of him. 

You huffed for air from how good he ate you, tapping his arm that was wrapped around your thighs as a warning you were about to cum. “Jus’ like that baby, cum on my tongue.” He encouraged, coil in your belly snapping as you came on his face to earn a satisfied groan while he helped you through your orgasm. Falling from that high, Ony sat up and you’d be met with the lower half of his face lathered in your juices with his eyes looking darker, and not just from the weed.

“Fuck.. that was hot.” He almost laughed as he looked at your expression, tears welling in your eyes from how he made you feel. “You’re dangerous.. can’t get you outta’ my head.” Now grabbing a hand so you could feel how hard he was in his gray sweats. You almost gasped at how big he felt, your expression making him smile as he licked his lips. “You can take it out, see what you do to me?” He teased as he watched you rub on his print, earning a low groan from him.

You made eye contact with him while taking his cock out, practically twitching as it felt the cold air against it. You couldn’t help but stare at his pretty cock, a slight curve to the right with not much length but for sure enough girth to it. A pretty vein laying on the underside of his dick. Not being able to stop yourself, you let a line of drool drop onto his tip, using it to properly stroke him off. “Fuck ma- jus’ like that, stroke this dick..”. His head tipping back as you slowly moved your hand.

His breathing became more uneven, a tense grab of your wrist to stop you as he took a moment. “Didn’t wanna cum just from your jerking my dick.. got a condom? I wanna be inside you so bad..” He sounded desperate as he watched you sit up, reaching in the pocket behind the driver's seat to achieve a condom.

He watched you as you unraveled it down his shaft, now moving to lift you as he swapped your positioning. He’d be seated in the middle seat of the row while you straddled him, clit a few centimeters away from his dick. It made you eager, desperate to get some friction you tried to grind against him. “Hollon’ baby, lemme make you ready right quick..”. A hand moving to your clit to have you let out your little whimpers.

After he found that’d been enough, he gripped your hips as you attempted to lower yourself into his cock, a small whimper of pain as he reassured you. “Doin’ so good fa’ me ma, it’ll fit, just go slow.” Is all he kept repeating as you finally sat on his dick. You couldn’t help but feel a pain, Ony lifting your head with a finger on your chin to kiss you.

The kiss was less eager this time, using this as a way to calm your nerves to help subside the pain.”You ready?” You could only nod but Ony wasn’t fucking with that. “Words ma, ion wanna make you feel forced..” The simple statement made your chest flutter, allowing you to provide a “Yes..” as he lifted you off. You could feel yourself seeing stars once he slammed you back onto his cock, an almost pornographic moan escaping your lips as he gave you slow but hard strokes in the backseat of your own car.

“Fuck! Ony-“ You placed a hand on his lower abdomen as he kept giving you long strokes, the other attempting to cover your mouth in fear someone might walk past and hear. But Ony didn’t like that, his hand moving yours away, his movements a little messier. “Fuck.. nah lemme hear you baby, I- fuckin’ like hearing how you like this dick.” Tension in his words as he kept thrusting, your pussy practically sucking him in each time he went back.

You both couldn’t contain the noises that’d erupt from your mouths, Ony speeding up and rubbing your clit once you started getting too quiet. “Ngh..Fuck!” Was all you could utter out till he felt you squeezing him. “Nah nah- fuck that-“ He stopped as he was huffing for air, a whine escaping your lips. “Why’d you stopp-“, “Gotta fuck you at a better angle ma.” Wasting no time to lay you on your back as he put your right leg on his shoulder, the stretch making your leg hurt ever so slightly.

Before you could complain he started pounding into you again, this new position being more overwhelming due to it allowing him to hit your g-spot in each motion. “Ony-OnyOny-“ Was the only thing you could chant, making him go faster with a crushing grip on your hips. It wasn’t until he felt you clench around him again that he felt close to cumming, a small chuckle, “Gonna milk my dick, right ma?”. Looking at your fucked out expression as you nodded eagerly. “Go on, cum on this dick. Show me how good I make you feel.” Ony grinned as he sped up, feeling as you came on him and watching as your back arches and your face scrunched as a result. He kept thrusting as you went through your high, yet didn’t stop once you started to feel overstimulated.

“Onyyyy-“ You whined as he still went, the feeling making you twitch. “You treat me so good ma, this pussy.. so- good.” He sped up even more upon feeling his own orgasm rising, huffing for air each thrust. It continued until you dug your nails into his arm, a groan as he came into the condom, still able to feel his warm seed as he pulled out.

He started taking off his condom, showing off his cum-covered tip that you couldn’t help but move closer to grip his cock again. He was still overstimulated, so when you started to give kittenish licks to his tip he almost lost it, a loud whimper erupting from his chest as he gripped your hair. “Baby- fuck.. i’m sensitive still- wait-“. Yet you kept going, taking the tip in your mouth as you reached down to massage his balls, the feeling almost making him pass out.

“F-fuck- keep going- please-..” He murmured as he gripped your hair tighter, one more teasing lick away from going crazy. Once you did try to keep teasing him, he pushed you down further till your nose met with the pattern of hair he had on his crotch. Earning a gag from you, he let out a moan, practically humping your face like a dog on heat.

He kept at this till he felt himself getting closer, struggling to ask,”F-fuck where do you want it?” he managed to utter as he took you off momentarily. “Mouth-“ His eyes rolled back at the response and the sight of drool dropping off your chin, quickly thrusting back in your mouth as he let out groans. He slammed it to the back of your throat once he came, his seed flooding your mouth with a bitter taste.

Opening your mouth, you showed proof of swallowing his cum, his lidded eyes looking at your face.

“So.. wanna go out wimme?”

[yourmomsawh0r3]

ill

anthony bridgerton x wife fem reader

Anthony Bridgerton prided himself on being a man of honor, a man who upheld the duties of a husband with unwavering dedication. Since the day he and Y/N had pledged their lives to each other, his commitment had never wavered. However, it was only during these most trying times, when Y/N was unwell, that the depths of his devotion truly came to light.

The morning had dawned grey and dreary, mirroring Y/N's increasingly pallid complexion. She had awoken with a heaviness in her chest, a fever clouding her usually bright eyes. Anthony, ever perceptive, had immediately sensed that something was amiss. By midday, it was clear she had fallen ill with the flu.

From that moment, Anthony had taken it upon himself to nurse her back to health. He insisted on doing everything himself, waving off the maids and servants with a determined hand. His wife was his responsibility, and he would see to her care personally. He stayed by her side, offering comfort and support. When she was sick, he held back her hair and rubbed soothing circles on her back. When the chills wracked her body, he fetched warm blankets and held her close, whispering words of encouragement and love.

Anthony found himself taking on a role he had seldom played to this extent: that of the primary caregiver for their twin children, Emma and Edward. With Y/N needing all the rest she could get, Anthony was determined to manage both his duties as a viscount and his responsibilities as a father

One evening, after a day filled with overseeing estate matters and ensuring Y/N had everything she needed, Anthony turned his attention to the children. It was time for dinner, and he decided to handle it himself, much to the surprise of the household staff.

In the kitchen, Emma and Edward sat at the large wooden table, their eyes wide with curiosity as their father attempted to prepare a simple meal. Anthony’s culinary skills were still rudimentary, but he managed to prepare a meal of roast chicken, potatoes, and steamed vegetables. The children watched him with amusement, occasionally offering unsolicited advice.

“Papa, you’re supposed to stir the gravy,” Emma pointed out with a giggle.

“And don’t forget to taste it,” Edward added helpfully.

Anthony chuckled, taking their advice in stride. “Thank you, my little chefs. I’ll make sure to do just that.”

Once the meal was ready, they sat down together and enjoyed their dinner. Despite a few mishaps like slightly overcooked potatoes and a gravy that was a bit too thick the children ate heartily, delighted by their father’s efforts. Anthony found himself smiling more than he had in days, his heart lightened by their laughter and the joy in their eyes.

After dinner, it was time for baths. Anthony led the twins upstairs, running a warm bath in the large clawfoot tub. He carefully bathed each of them, laughing as they splashed and played in the water.

“Papa, make the boat go faster!” Edward exclaimed, pointing to the little wooden toy floating in the tub.

“Alright, but only if you promise to keep the water in the tub,” Anthony replied with a mock stern look.

After the bath, he wrapped them in fluffy towels and helped them into their nightclothes. The bedtime routine was a cherished ritual, one that Y/N usually took part in. Tonight, Anthony was determined to make it just as special. He read them a story, his deep voice bringing the characters to life. Emma and Edward listened intently, their eyes growing heavy with sleep.

When the story ended, Anthony tucked them into their beds, kissing each of them on the forehead. “Goodnight, my loves,” he whispered. “Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Papa,” they murmured in unison, their voices drowsy.

As he left their room and gently closed the door, Anthony felt a profound sense of satisfaction. Despite the challenges, he had managed to care for his children and his wife. Returning to Y/N’s side, he found her already asleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. He sat beside her, watching over her as she slept, feeling an overwhelming sense of love and responsibility.

Anthony knew that this period of illness and extra duties was temporary. But he also knew that the bonds he was strengthening with his children and the unwavering support he was providing to his wife would have lasting effects. He was more than just a viscount; he was a father and a husband, roles he cherished above all else.

The next morning Y/N had scarcely managed to keep any food down, Anthony decided to draw her a warm bath. As she soaked in the tub, her skin flushed from the heat and the fever, he asked softly, "My love, are you hungry? Is there anything you might be able to eat?"

Y/N, feeling a bit better in the comfort of the warm water, nodded. "Yes, actually. Some chicken noodle soup sounds wonderful."

Anthony's heart swelled with determination. "I'll make you some," he promised, his voice gentle but firm.

Leaving Y/N to relax, he descended to the kitchen. Anthony was a man of many talents, but cooking was not one of them. Still, for his beloved wife, he was willing to try anything. He rummaged through the pantry and the icebox, trying to recall the recipes his mother had taught him in his youth. He found some chicken, carrots, celery, and noodles, setting them all on the counter. With sleeves rolled up and a furrowed brow, he began his culinary endeavor.

As he chopped vegetables and attempted to cook the chicken, Y/N, feeling somewhat better after her bath, decided to venture downstairs. Dressed in her nightgown, she moved quietly, drawn by the sounds of her husband clattering about in the kitchen. Peeking around the corner, she couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the sight before her: Anthony Bridgerton, Viscount, and head of the Bridgerton family, struggling to decipher a recipe.

Her soft laughter reached Anthony's ears, and he turned, a look of surprise and concern on his face. "My love, what are you doing out of bed? You should be resting."

Y/N smiled, stepping into the kitchen. "I couldn't stay away. I had to see what my wonderful husband was up to."

Anthony sighed, a mixture of exasperation and affection. "I was trying to make you some soup," he admitted, gesturing to the array of ingredients and half-prepared food. "But I'm afraid I'm not quite as skilled as the cook."

Y/N walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning into his chest. "It's perfect," she murmured. "The fact that you're doing this for me means more than you could ever know."

Anthony kissed the top of her head, his heart swelling with love. "Anything for you, my dear. Now, let's get you back to bed, and I'll bring the soup up once it's ready."

With Y/N safely back in bed, Anthony returned to the kitchen with renewed determination. He worked meticulously, and after some time, he finally produced a pot of homemade chicken noodle soup. Carrying a tray carefully, he made his way back to their bedroom.

Y/N was propped up against the pillows, looking exhausted but content. Anthony set the tray down on the bedside table and gently ladled some soup into a bowl. He brought the bowl to her, spooning a bit of the fragrant broth to her lips.

Y/N took a tentative sip, then smiled up at him. "It's delicious," she whispered. "Thank you, dear”

He smiled back, relief and love evident in his eyes. "Anything for you, my love. Anything at all."

In the days following Y/N’s initial illness, their twin children, Emma and Edward, had been kept at a respectful distance, watched over by their governess and the ever-watchful staff. Anthony, concerned for their health and their mother's, had made it clear that the children were not to disturb Y/N until she was well enough.

However, as the days stretched on, Emma and Edward’s longing for their mother grew more intense. One sunny afternoon, the twins approached their father with wide, pleading eyes.

“Papa, can we see Mama?” Emma asked, her voice small and hopeful.

“Please, Papa,” Edward echoed, tugging at Anthony’s sleeve. “We miss her.”

Anthony knelt down to their level, his heart aching at the sight of their earnest faces. “Your mother is still very sick,” he said gently. “She needs to rest so she can get better.”

“But we can be quiet,” Emma promised. “We just want to see her.”

Y/N, overhearing the conversation from her room, felt a surge of love and longing for her children. Gathering what strength she had, she called out softly, “Anthony, please. Let them come in.”

Anthony turned to see his wife sitting up in bed, her eyes tired but full of determination. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “All right. But you must be very gentle and very quiet, do you understand?”

The twins nodded eagerly, and Anthony led them to the bed where Y/N waited with open arms. Emma and Edward climbed up carefully, nestling into the crook of her arms. Y/N hugged them tightly, her eyes closing as she breathed in the comforting scent of her children.

“I’ve missed you both so much,” she whispered, kissing the tops of their heads.

“We missed you too, Mama,” Edward said, his voice muffled against her nightgown.

Anthony watched the scene, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions. He climbed into the bed as well, wrapping his arms around his family. They all cuddled together, the warmth of their closeness driving away the chill of Y/N’s illness.

The day was spent in a cocoon of love and comfort. They read stories, played quiet games, and simply enjoyed being in each other’s presence. The twins were careful to be gentle, their usual energy subdued by the understanding that their mother needed to rest.

As the afternoon turned into evening, Y/N’s strength began to wane, but the happiness of having her family close gave her a renewed sense of hope and determination. She looked up at Anthony, her eyes filled with gratitude.

“Thank you, my love,” she said softly. “I needed this.”

Anthony kissed her forehead, his voice tender. “Anything for you, my dear. And for our children.”

As they sat together in the fading light of the day, Y/N turned to Anthony, her eyes shining with gratitude. “You are my rock, Anthony. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Anthony took her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. "And you are my heart, Y/N. As long as you need me, I will always be here, by your side."

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