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#was it one of them pouted their lips for a joke and the other one called their bluff
foreveralbon · 1 day
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i love you, ain’t that crazy? - op81
in which evening kisses and ted lasso are the only things that can beat aussie mornings and cinnamon scrolls wc: 831
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The evening is the best time of day, you think.
When the world is cast in the sun’s tired glow, everything within it turned to priceless gold.
Skin rivals that of those touched by Midas, glass bottles emanating their own rainbows at its luminescence, while paints reveal their true colours—brighter, bolder and more beautiful than any other time of day could ever show.
But it’s Oscar’s eyes that take the prize for the prettiest thing when by met the sun’s glint. What’s normally a dim chocolate brown turns to whiskey in the evening light.
Perched atop the island counter of your kitchen, Oscar stood in the gap between your legs, you’re sure he’s never looked prettier. With loose curls brushing along his forehead, lips downturned in a suppressed smile, the dusk sky falls in through the gaps of the curtains to paint his face with light, showcasing every freckle and mole that dusts his skin.
The corner of his eyes crinkle fondly at the sight of you, teeth sinking into the soft Cadbury bar he’d bought for you earlier that day.
“Hungry girl,” he remarks, rolling his eyes playfully as he turns away to busy himself with putting dirty plates into the dishwasher.
His hand never leaves your thigh though, bare below the hem of his shirt that’s just a few sizes too big on you. But when the weight of his hand does leave, you pout teasingly. “Wanted to leave me that bad, did you, Oscar?”
Your boyfriend whirls around instantly. His fingers come to rest on your knees, creeping up your thigh and past your hip to hover above your abdomen. It sends a tingling sensation throughout your body briefly. “Sweetheart, leaving you is the last thing I want to do.”
“What a romantic,” you reply sarcastically, slapping a hand to his shoulder.
He lets you wrap your legs around his waist, supporting your back with his palms. Furrowing your head into his neck, you inhale his cologne, fresh and musky, tinged with the sweet bitterness of the chocolate you’d just eaten.
Oscar carries you from the kitchen to the living room, a short trek but one he’s willing to make a thousand and one times if it means you’re as close as can be when he does.
He sets you down on the couch before sitting cross-legged on the cushion himself.
“You look so pretty like this,” you admire. You tuck a loose strand of hair away from his face. In the evening light, with nothing but a lazy smile gracing his lips and a glint in his eye that screams your name.
“But you’re always more beautiful, love.”
Oscar gently pushes you down against the couch, large hands circling the width of your wrists to hold them together as he slants his mouth above yours in a slow kiss. Like a boy kissing his first girlfriend, he’s unsure but so gentle, as though he’s afraid that one wrong move—one wrong slip of his tongue against yours, one harsh press of his lips—will scare you off.
But your hands slide free of his grip, running up his chest to press your palm against his cheeks, bringing his face down closer to yours. He takes the hint almost immediately and kisses you more fervently. Languidly, sweetly. As though he knows there’s everyday to kiss you beyond this day, but it’s this moment he wants to savour. Forever, if he could.
“God, I love you,” he whispers against your lips, tearing away from you reluctantly but he knows he needs air—as much as he wishes that just being around you could be a sufficient life source.
“I’m glad, otherwise this would have been really awkward,” you joke.
You push his chest lightly to relieve his weight off you and he shuffles back onto his knees. He waits for you to sit up against the arm of the couch, stretched along the length of the couch before crawling between your legs to rest against your stomach.
Oscar lies in silence as you turn on the TV, waiting patiently for you to pull up the next episode of Ted Lasso. As the opening scene begins to roll, you can’t help but whisper, “I’m happy that it’s you.”
“Hm?” He never takes his gaze off the screen but you know he’s listening to you.
“That you’re the one here with me now.”
Oscar doesn’t respond. He just takes your hand in his, squeezing it once, twice. I love you more.
He tilts his chin up to kiss you once more before dropping his head back onto the swell of your chest. Your other hand finds its way into his hair, fingers entangling in the soft curls as you scratch at his scalp.
It’s as the sun sets til it rises that you have all the time in the world with Oscar. And that’s the best part about it—the sun’s indefinite return and departure promises eternity with your boy.
“You okay up there, sweetheart?”
“Wonderful.”
@namgification @hiireadstuff @disneyprincemuke @vroomvroomcircuit (just bc) @demvnsriot @33-81 @lipringlrh @queen-aria-things
in my head this was cinnamon scroll fic oscar and i thought this was cute idk. layout was a bit lazy i’m sorry ☹︎
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judesfavflvr · 2 days
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Please can you write an imagine of Jude Bellingham so let’s say Jude and reader have a toddler daughter who is obsessed with her daddy and when she sees Jude playing with other kids of his teammates she gets super jealous and instead goes to her mummy (the reader) which is unusual bc she always follows Jude like a shadow. You are all confused by her new behaviour and then she tells you and Jude the reason that she wants her daddy to herself and his teammates jokes around saying your daughter is just like her mummy. Something like that and please make it long xx (I got inspired by the videos of Jude playing with his teammates kids)
࿐ ˚ . ✦ as the final came to an end, you made your way out onto the pitch where jude and his teammates were already celebrating, your daughter, grace, already running before you, always excited to see her dad. she was always running after him, imitating his shadow with the way she never stopped following him around.
she however faltered halfway across the pitch, her brows pinched into a frown, her lips pouted slightly. you finally caught up with her, extending your arm down for her to take. she was in a trance as she held your hand, making you question her odd behavior. usually she'd be fighting to see her dad, struggling against your grip that held her back until he finished up with his media duty.
"what's gotten into you? come on, daddy's over there" you mumbled, dragging her with you. jude looked up when he spotted you two approaching, one of the many kids running around in his arms.
"there are my two girls" his grin widened, his lips finding yours before placing a soft kiss against grace's temple, his voice even softer when he spoke to her, "how'd you feel watching daddy win?"
you looked down at grace, expecting her run to him, hug his leg, cling onto his arm, but she just muttered a simple "good", remaining still. you nudged her his way slightly, confused when she wouldn't budge.
"she must've hated that" you muttered, shrugging as you looked up at jude who was now frowning down at her before getting distracted by his teammates that had joined you two, greeting you and grace.
the kid in jude's arms failed around when he spotted his own dad, running to him once jude put him down. jude then bent down, his arms open for grace to find her usual spot between them, but she instead clung to you, looking up at you and raising her arms for you to pick her up.
"she doesn't like you" camavinga chimed in from his spot next to jude, a wide grin on his face as he watched the way jude's frown deepened, looking at you two as if offended.
"what's wrong, baby?" jude came closer to where you stood, tilting his head down so he was on grace's level where she sat propped up on your arm. she just looked away, resting her head against your chest.
"grace, are you not happy daddy won?" you asked, a soft smile on your lips, appreciating the unusual affection from your daughter. she finally picked her head up, a solid pout on her lips, representing her father's own.
"daddy's mine" she muttered, crossing her arms as she looked up at him. you two raised your eyebrows, laughter erupting around you at her antics.
"of course daddy's yours, whose else would he be?" jude questioned, his hands coming up to take her away from you, and she let herself be carried away.
"no other kids" she was serious as she spoke, her arms still crossed as she demanded her dad agree. he chuckled, nodding his head as he kissed her cheek.
"no other kids, just grace. got it" he smiled as she finally let her arms drop, her little head resting on his shoulder, finally in her element.
"sounds like she's picking up someone's behavior" you didn't catch who made that comment, but you were quick to catch onto the meaning, and it was in no time that similar jokes were being thrown around.
"she's more like her mom than i thought"
"you ought to watch it bellingham, don't want her ending up too much like her mom" your jaw dropped at the accusations being made, you never deemed yourself that jealous.
"oh come on, i'm nowhere near as jealous as-" jude cut you off with his lips on yours, grace giggling from her spot.
"we both know you're worse" he whispered, his free arm pulling you into his side.
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extralively · 2 days
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Deeper in the Dark (16): Little Slice of Happiness
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Deeper in the Dark: Chapter 16 Gojo Satoru/Original Female Character Ongoing story This chapter: fluff and smut (but a soft kind of smut) | NSFW Full story on AO3
I thought I could post this chapter here on tumblr since it's fairly short and sweet and could be read as a standalone (sorta) so here (◡‿◡✿)
It's set during JJK0 before the day of big fight!
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December 7th
There was something brushing against her cheek when Yura slowly brought herself out of sleep. When she finally cracked her eyes open, she found a familiar blue pair staring back at her, and she first wrinkled her nose as she pretended to be cranky before a small smile spread across her lips.
“’Morning,” Satoru said, his thumb gently caressing her cheek, and Yura shifted her face towards it before a yawn suddenly escaped her.
“Morning,” she eventually replied. She let her eyes fall closed again as she let out a sigh, her face shifting down to press against the arm underneath her head.
“Nooo, don’t go back to sleep,” Satoru said, gently patting her cheek. “Not on my birthday.”
Ah, that’s right. It was Satoru’s birthday today.
Yura let out a small snort, then playfully bit at the arm under her.
“Nooo, don’t eat me either,” Satoru said, stifling a laugh. “Not on my birthday!”
Yura let out a breathy chuckle as she finally opened her eyes, rubbing at them with one hand as she started stretching out her legs between Satoru’s. There were slivers of sunlight streaming in from behind Satoru’s curtains, his bedroom windows large enough to brighten the place up despite being partially covered.
Satoru’s hand rested on her waist on top of the bedcovers as she finished stretching, his other arm still being used as her pillow. “Where’s my ‘happy birthday’?” he asked, pushing a pout onto his lips.
“I gave you one yesterday,” she reminded him. After the clock had struck midnight last night, they’d started joking around that it was already his birthday, and she ‘congratulated’ him in more ways than one. The result being their bare bodies now brushing against each other underneath the sheets.
Satoru pouted harder, and Yura let her smile widen as she pushed him onto his back, slotting her body next to his and resting her chin on his chest. “We should celebrate today, shouldn’t we?” she said. She had a hand underneath her chin, and her fingers absentmindedly tapped against his skin.
“I mean, if you insist,” Satoru replied, and Yura huffed out a laugh.
Her fingers drummed against his chest again, and she tilted her head slightly. “Well,” she started, pretending to think for a second. “Since Tsumiki is living at Jujutsu Tech now, I thought I could take Megumi there and we could celebrate. Bring a cake in and stuff.”
But Satoru’s eyes suddenly became a little clouded as he hummed out a vague response, and something tugged at her heart at the not-that-uncommon expression on his face these days.
Things had settled down after Geto’s declaration of war, but in a simmering kind of way that felt like it was only a matter of time before it finally boiled over. Everyone was on edge, some training, others preparing in different ways; part of the jujutsu community was in a full-on manhunt for Geto before the allotted date, but it seemed that he had actually gone into hiding this time, and no one could locate him.
Satoru, though, was not among the people who were actively looking for the former sorcerer. Yura wasn’t sure why exactly, but she could guess—that maybe actually seeing his old friend in person had halted any desire to find him again, or maybe the looming date on the horizon meant that Satoru thought the only thing he had to do now was wait. Either way, Yura was glad that he remained within her reach instead of being out there by himself.
But that’s not to say that Satoru was exactly... okay. Sure, he pretended to be his usual self around other people, but Yura could see right through him—and when everyone else was gone and it was just the two of them alone, Satoru would drop his carefree mask to let Yura see the heavy weight he was carrying around with him. She tried her best to keep his mind off things most of the time, and they were able to have some quiet, genuine moments between themselves every now and then—but with everyone counting the days until the day of the battle arrived, it was getting harder and harder to let themselves relax.
“Can we...” Satoru started, his eyes still somewhat far away. “Can we just eat out? Out of the school, I mean.”
“...Yeah,” Yura replied, her eyes soft. “We can do that. We’ll get Tsumiki after class, what do you say?”
Satoru nodded in agreement, his eyes finally looking at her, and she offered him a smile.
“You’re getting old, you know,” she told him, her smile turning teasing. “You’re practically thirty now.”
Yura was relieved when Satoru’s lips also tugged up in a matching smile. “I’m twenty-eight today,” he defended himself. “And in a couple of months, you will be too.”
Yura let out a playful scoff. “Pfft, you’ll be a decrepit old man soon,” she said, and her hand reached up to play with his hair. “Look, your hair is already all white and everything!”
Satoru’s chest vibrated with a laugh, and Yura let her smile soften again. She shifted her head so she could rest her cheek on his chest, staring up at him, and her hand brushed down his face until she started mindlessly playing with his chin.
They were silent for a little while, Yura simply looking at him and taking him in—but it wasn’t an uncomfortable kind of silence. Yura felt warm and content, and even if Satoru’s eyes kept drifting away every now and then, it seemed that he was making an effort to stay focused on the here and now.
“Megumi’s birthday is in a couple of weeks too, isn’t it?” he eventually spoke up, one of his hands brushing hair away from her face.
“Yeah,” she replied, shifting to rest her chin on his chest again, but then she sobered up slightly.
Megumi’s birthday was on the 22nd... just two days before when everything was supposed to go down. The closer they drew to the date, the more agitated everyone became; more and more people had started using the school grounds to train or strategize, sorcerers from all over wanting to be as sharp and on top of their game as possible for when everything went to shit. Chances were that, two days before the battle, they would all be busy preparing the evacuation procedures for every non-sorcerer in the targeted areas and other countermeasures...
...Not much time for them to spend celebrating a birthday.
Yura let out a sigh, resting on her cheek again. “We could make time for some cake,” she tried, and Satoru hummed in agreement, his eyes going far away once more.
Her own eyes slipped away, and she tried to focus on the way she could feel his chest moving up and down underneath her head instead of the impending disaster they would have in their hands in less than a month’s time. It felt like there was not enough time for them to prepare and also somehow too much time—too much time for them to stew in the worst possibilities of what was to come.
With yet another sigh, her hand started drawing imaginary figures on Satoru’s shoulder in order to distract herself from her thoughts. Satoru’s own hands were quiet as they rested against her, signaling that he too was lost inside his own head.
“...Yura,” he said, breaking the silence again, and Yura shifted her head to look up at him. “I don’t think we’ll be able to have Christmas this year.”
A wave of sadness hit her all of a sudden, her lips pressing together as she drew in a breath through her nose.
Seriously, why did Geto have to choose Christmas Eve of all days to pull this crazy plan of his off? Why did he have to ruin their Christmas like this?
Yura let out a breath, lifting her hand back to Satoru’s face. “It’s okay,” she said, her thumb caressing his chin again. “We can have Christmas next year.”
Yura didn’t actually want to think about the possibilities for next year.
After yet another stretch of silence, Satoru was the one who eventually heaved out a sigh, his chest moving her up and down with its movements. “Well, guess we’ll just have to worry about that later, then,” he said, in that carefree tone he used when he wanted to pretend everything was fine. And this time, Yura was glad to play along.
“Yeah,” she agreed, lifting herself off his chest and pushing her face closer to his. “Because guess what?” she asked, a small smile spreading across her lips, his breath caressing her face. “Today is your birthday.”
Satoru’s smile mirrored her own. “Really? I had no idea.”
“Hm-hm,” she responded, her nose bumping his. She paused for a moment. “So happy birthday, stupid.”
Yura’s heart fluttered when Satoru’s smile widened in genuine joy, and she stopped to stare at it for a moment before she finally lowered her lips to his.
The kiss was slow and tentative as she enjoyed the feeling of his lips on hers, unhurriedly moving against each other like two people who had all the time in the world. And maybe that wasn’t exactly true, especially given recent circumstances, but it was nice to pretend—that Yura had nothing else to worry about except the way Satoru felt against her.
They stayed like that for a while, just kissing, taking a few moments to breathe, then kissing again. Satoru’s hand made its way into her hair, brushing it back and keeping it away from her face, and Yura leaned in to the warmth of his palm in the brief moments that their lips disconnected from each other.
Could they just stay there like this for... the rest of their lives? No worrying about anything else, no more fighting, no more death—just the two of them together in this quiet bubble that was their bed.
Yura sighed against his mouth.
Their kissing eventually started picking up a bit, although it was still fairly slow and lazy. When Satoru began to lift his torso up from the bed, still holding her head to his, Yura let him maneuver them both around, guiding her to switch places with him as she lay back on the bed instead. And all the while, their mouths never disconnected from one another, not when Yura laid her head down on the pillow still warm from Satoru, not when Satoru shifted between the bedsheets so he could cover her body with his own, nor when she opened her legs so he could slot himself there, her hands now being the ones to hold his head to hers.
When her tongue licked at his lips asking for entrance, he welcomed it gladly, and when their hands started wandering over each other’s bodies, it was much at the same pace as their lips—slow and languid, a warm and comfortingly familiar rhythm that they had long since perfected together.
A lazy haze had fallen over them as they continued kissing, their hands softly wandering over each other’s bodies and mapping all the dips and contours of the other’s skin. It was a shared warmth, a synchronized dance, their bodies never fully disconnecting as they both slid their hands downwards to reach between each other’s legs.
They moved together as they both shifted in place to adjust their positions, before Yura grasped him and guided him to her entrance. Their mouths remained joined as she pushed the head of him inside, but when he started sliding himself in, their mouths finally broke apart.
Joined, at last.
Small gasps caressed each other’s faces at the feeling of him sliding inside slowly, pushing his way in until there was no more space for him to fill. They stayed there for a moment, breathing each other in, before his lips pressed gently against hers again and they started lazily kissing once more.
Her body was strangely relaxed as Satoru began to move his hips, slowly sliding himself in and out of her. Her arms wrapped around his torso, her fingers softly caressing the skin of his back, and when Satoru eventually pulled away from her lips to drop his forehead to the bed, Yura kept her eyes closed, enjoying this closeness between them.
Just in, out, in, out... There was no hurry to get anywhere, no end point in particular; it was just them, together. It felt strangely peaceful to just be lying there, Satoru’s body covering her own, her legs hugging his hips, her fingers playing around on his back, and the feeling of him fitting himself inside like that’s where he belonged all along. She let herself get lost in the feeling of him nuzzling the side of her head, of her walls welcoming him in with every lazy thrust of his hips—but he never fully left her heat, she briefly noticed, like he was caressing the deepest parts of her with every gentle movement. Yura could only tighten her arms around him to urge him on, her nose breathing him in as she pressed a kiss to the crook of his shoulder—and her lips ended up tugging up slightly when she felt him press a kiss to the side of her head in return.
Yura only half-registered the way his free hand made its way down her body again, but she let out a sigh when he found the nub between her legs and started rubbing soft circles there. So she let her nails gently scrape over his back, her lips fluttering against the skin of his neck as she tried to stay as connected to him as possible—although, granted, being more connected than ‘him reaching deep inside of her walls’ might’ve been a bit impossible.
Oh well. Didn’t hurt to try.
Satoru kept pushing himself inside her, his hand rubbing at her in sync, and her puffs of breath against his skin started gaining speed as she felt a buildup grow within her. But this buildup was a strange, slow one—one that let her feel every second of it as it grew and grew, spreading from her belly across every part of her body.
Her fingers then started pressing into Satoru’s back a little deeper, but still gentle enough to match the feeling of relaxation that was still present in her body. It might’ve been a little unusual for her to feel so relaxed given the situation, as she would normally be tensing up by now, pressing herself closer to chase after the promised high, but no; her body still felt like it could happily melt into the mattress as Satoru moved in and out of her, only keeping her legs in place so she could hold herself open for him.
And when the buildup inside of her grew and grew, taking over her entire body to finally push her over the edge, Yura could only gasp at the sudden, but also not that sudden, feeling—like a gentle surge instead of a crashing wave inside of her. Satoru lifted his head then, his lips pressing against hers and swallowing her gasp, although Yura’s brain was too busy with the increasingly drawn-out feeling of her climax to do much in return. It kept going, and going—Satoru still moving inside her, his hand still rubbing at her, and she felt like she was suddenly floating, weightless, for one endless moment... before she felt Satoru gasp against her mouth, slotting himself fully in and then finally filling her up with warmth.
And for a moment, everything seemed to stand still.
One blissful moment where nothing else mattered.
Their chests heaved against each other in silence as the feeling washed over them, the only sound in the room being their joined quickened breaths, almost in sync. If Yura had felt relaxed before, then she was completely boneless now—but she still had enough strength in her to keep her legs up bracketing his hips, her arms wrapped around his back and holding him to her.
This felt nice.
Beyond nice, actually.
Satoru let out a breath against her mouth, eventually letting his head drop back to the bed beside her. He started nuzzling the side of her head again, and Yura found the strength to have her fingers start caressing his back in slow and lazy strokes.
“...Satoru?” she half whispered, her breath blowing gently against his hair.
“Hm?” Satoru responded, shifting ever so slightly. The movement reminded her that he was still inside of her, like the perfect missing piece to her puzzle, and she bit back a sigh at the feeling as her legs tightened around him to urge him to stay right there.
“Happy birthday,” she finally said.
Satoru paused for a moment, and she felt his chest vibrate with a laugh. “You’ve already said that,” he told her.
She laughed back. “You were the one being so needy for birthday wishes.”
With another chuckle, Satoru finally lifted his head to look her in the eye. “Maybe I just wanted another blowjob like last night.”
Yura unsuccessfully tried to bite back her smile, shrugging. “The day’s just started.”
As Satoru’s face broke out in a grin, the joy in his eyes let Yura forget, if just for a moment, about the impending doom they were about to face in less than a month. She had no idea what would happen then, and dwelling on that thought terrified her—so instead, she tried to just focus on Satoru right now in front of her.
When Satoru started nuzzling her face with his, his nose poking at her cheek as he rubbed up against her almost like a cat, Yura had to huff out a laugh. Forgetting about their worries wasn’t a hard thing to do when they were together like this, like nothing bad could ever touch them as long as they stayed together in this very bed... so Yura wouldn’t mind if this was where they spent the rest of the day if Satoru so wished.
But when Satoru eventually shifted back, pulling out of her, she couldn’t help but feel regretfully empty at the broken physical connection. At least he flopped down beside her, his arm around her torso, his face going back to nuzzling the side of her head as he attached himself to her side.
They were okay, she thought to herself, letting her nose bump his. They were okay for now, even if they wouldn’t be okay later—but that would be a problem for the future. Because for now, nothing could touch this little slice of happiness they had carved for themselves right there and then.
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End notes: I tried a different vibe with the smut this time, something nice and soft before The Action begins ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) And oh boy, there will be action! It's been a while since I wrote a proper battle scene (...putting aside when Satoru and Yura were sparring and got horny, I mean) so let's see how that goes.
I'm excited tho, we'll get to see Yura's full abilities for what has to be the first time ever ehehehe. There's a lot I've been keeping from you guys (ಠ‿ಠ)
Next chapter: The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons starts...
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cafterdark · 7 months
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There's something about gradual mind breaking that drives me wild.
Imagine this. Your life is shit, you're stuck ina deadend cubical job. 9-5 bullshit galore. One day, you're assigned to train a new coworker. She's pretty, way above your league. And yet she's kind. She compliments you and your skills honed to perfection working these bullshit shifts. But still, she's way prettier than you so you feel awkward even acknowledging them.
The two of you have lunch together. The two of you were talking, and she was still complimenting you for some reason. About how pretty your hair is or how cute your smile looks. You can't even comprehend looking anything but shit. She pouts and fiddles with her phone a bit. Then she asks you to watch a video. Suddenly you're back at work. When did the break end? No matter.
She tells you how pretty your eyes were. You smile because good girls accept compliments and tell her how gorgeous her lips are because good girls are honest. The rest of the day the two of you compliment each other.
It's beenmonth since then and both of you just keep complimenting each other. Sure, your compliments are getting kind of weird. You don't know when you started calling her Mistress as a joke, but it's hard to stop now. But she tells you that it's normal for good girls to call their Mistress Mistress so you keep doing it anyway. Besides, her compliments are getting weirder too. Mistress has made it a habit to pin you to a wall before telling you them. Then she just tells you how submissive and docile you are. She kisses you a lot now. Good girls deserve to be kissed by their Mistress ofc, so you don't complain.
Work itself is harder now. You just can't keep up like you used to. You're just so horny and Mistress doesn't help. You know that good girls are horny messes, but it's so aggravating. The tight clothes that show off so much don't help, but good girls are required to wear them so what can you do? Mistress has to pick up a lot of your slack, but she doesn't seem to mind. And besides good girls let Mistress do the work for them.
Breaks are great. Mistress shows you another video and you feel so good and good girls deserve to feel good. You feel so good that you don't remember what happens during them. You've started finding bruises and bite marks on your skin after them, though you don't know why. You don't care because good girls need to be marked. For the rest of the shift, she keeps touching you and teasing. By the end you can barely stand.
At the clock terminal, Mistress pins you to the wall and makes out with you before leaving. You're frozen by lust for several minutes before stumbling to your car.
Three months in and things are now really weird. You can't tell why anymore. Your head feels like cotton most of the time. You ask Mistress why everything feels so weird, because good girls always ask Mistress for help. She gives you some pets and kisses you, reminding you that dumb puppies don't think. Your boss threatens to fire you because of poor performance, but it's not your fault you're a dumb puppy. Everyone knows that dumb puppies don't work. Dumb puppies are to be submissive and docile. Mistress does most of the work, she's so good at it that she's up for promotion.
Breaks are so fun. Mistress shows you another video. When you wake up, you feel sooooooo good. Like all the energy built up during the morning was just released. Mistress cleans you up and then she starts working again while you heel. Then when you clock out, Mistress attaches a leash to your collar and gives you a walkies home. The walkies home is the best part.
Six months in and life is perfect. You don't work anymore and that's okay. Dumb puppies don't work anyway. You and Mistress live together at her place. You sleep in your cage and if you're a really good puppy, Mistress lets you sleep at the foot of her bed. The best time is when Mistress works. She works at home now. Your job is to be adorable by sleeping in a dog bed under her desk. Well, that and pleasure her, because a dumb puppy's only role is to be her Mistress's fucktoy.
During lunch Mistress fills your bowl with kibble and it tastes amazing. She doesn't show you videos anymore. She says you're perfect now. You don't understand what she means but it doesn't matter. Dumb puppies don't think after all.
After Mistress finishes working, she takes you on walkies and plays with you. It's so fun and nice and amazing. And if you're a really good girl, the best puppy in the whole world, she'll let you sleep in the bed with her. Your life is amazing.
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songbirdseung · 20 days
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pinky ring / sim jaeyun
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synopsis: jake made you a promise to marry you when you two were toddlers. he would fake propose until he really did get down on one knee.
pairing: childhood besties jake x reader
wc: 1.1k
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To your parents, it was all good fun. Seeing their child being proposed to by their childhood best friend at their favorite beach. Documentation was highly important to them, filming little you and little jake holding a candy ring pop in his hand, asking your hand in marriage. To them, it was adorable.
For young child you, you were petrified. At the time, your dad just gave a small talk on how to stay away from boys and you're definitely too young to get into a relationship. This happened when you called the actor on scene handsome when you were having a family movie night.
"We are too young Jake" pouting your lips, feeling bad for rejecting his proposal. Jake shrugs and hands you the ring pop anyway. "Fine, I'll just wait and get you a real ring".
That didn't last long because fast forward to the next year, he does it again. He has done it so much that for the next few following years, it had become an inside joke to everyone in your immediate family.
"You have rejected me for 4 years now" crossing his arms in a fit, Jake looks at you disappointed. "Maybe because we are only 12 years old?"
At this point, you aren't sure if he's doing this because he really wants to marry you or just to tease you and lead any guy interested in you far far away. Remembering all the instances where a boy would approach you during lunch and sit next to you and confess and say that they think you' re cute. There then comes Jake, wearing a smug smirk and says something along the lines of "I'm actually her future husband, please go away".
It makes you think about how you could never get away from Jake and his antics.
Even when you guys reached your teenage years, almost reaching adulthood, Jake never dropped the fake proposal joke. Like on your 19th birthday, at the restaurant he took you both to, he claims how he's your boyfriend and he's planning to propose soon, the waiter thought he was weird for saying that he wanted to propose soon with you sitting right there but nonetheless, he gave you both free desserts.
You thought at by the age of 14, he'd stop since you both are going through puberty, his feelings would change and he'd drop it due to his own pride and embarrassment, but no.
Now you both were 20, if you had to count how many fake proposals Jake has done over the years, it would reach 100.
"You can't say that we are too young, we're both legal adults and we basically known each other our whole lives." You turn over to him and flick his forehead, causing him wince in pain and shoo you away from him. "You're mean"
"You're the one that wants to marry me, so get used to it"
"Oh, so you're playing along now" He removes his hand from his head and pokes your side. "After years, you're finally warming up to the idea"
"Keep that up, I won't be anymore" Once you said that you realize how you didn't even deny it. Looking back at Jake who went back to playing video games, you take in his appearance and guide your eyes to follow the lines that make his side profile.
Jake was good looking, you knew that. He's always been the apple of your eye since you two were kids, then as you got to know him, his humor, personality, and behavior kind of sealed the deal for you.
"If you keep staring at me, I might disintegrate."
"Then, who is going to marry me?"
"We're still on that? I thought you didn't want to?"
"Make me your girlfriend and I'll rethink it" Now it was your turn to cause a ruckus in Jake's mind. He pauses the game and looks over to you, reading your expression wondering if you were serious or not.
That night, Jake stayed over. Unlike the other past sleepovers that you two had, this one was different because the way you cuddle into him now, it felt different. He was always yours and until now, just a different kind. He was now your boyfriend, not boy-friend.
With your dynamic and bond with Jake, it felt like sunshine and rainbows most of the times, being around each other all the time and knowing each other too well, you always found ways to fix things or any miscommunication that would come along.
Transitioning to relationship from friendship was surprisingly easy from the outside perspective but the thing with you and Jake was he was always a gentleman and treated you right and how you deserved to be treated, and of course vice versa.
When you told your mom the news, she did not show any surprised reaction, simply telling you how she saw it coming and was just waiting for this moment to happen, you dad shared a similar reaction, happy that it was Jake to be the one you were dating.
Fast forward to a whole year of dating Jake. People would say that you two were like a fairytale love, match made in heaven, meant for each other, all that. "Hey yn, maybe you should do that trend where you call Jake your husband"
"I'm pretty sure he's already seen that on tiktok, no?"
Still, even if he did, you were going to do it just to see his reaction. That same day, you two meet up after your last class ended. Waiting for you somewhere in the university's campus, you run up to him and give him a hug. "Someone missed me?"
In the car ride home, you guys both agreed to stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out. Which was a perfect time to put your little prank in action. Just like everyone else, after placing your order, you ask Jake what he wants and tell the waiter. "Then my husband would like ___"
Once the waiter leaves, you finally take notice of Jake who is wide eyed, staring at you in awe. "There's no way you just called me that" To say he was a lovesick puppy after that was an understatement.
But now since you called him that, you have to keep calling him that. Because if you call him or introduce him as your boyfriend, he'll act surprised and startled. "Are you asking for a divorce?" "Do you not love me anymore?" "I thought I was your husband?" to name a few.
"I'm gonna have to propose now, for real this time"
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babyleostuff · 25 days
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"silent treatment prank" on their s/o | ot13
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. . . how long svt can maintain their "silent treatment prank" after their s/o apologize even though they don't know what they did wrong
natalia's note: i don't think any of them would be able to hold out for long (as you'll see). it's a whole another thing when they give you the silent treatment when they're actually angry, but as a prank. never.
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❥ seungcheol 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] one minute 
at first he wanted to try out this prank as a way to see you sulk and whine, as he usually does when you give him the silent treatment, and he thought he was being such a genius after he came up with the idea. mhm, yeah - genius my ass. the second he sees your puppy-like expression after he doesn’t reciprocate your hug, it’s over for him. it was clear to him that you thought he was bothered by you, you even apologised for entering his personal space and hugging him. thus not even a minute in, he’s all over you again, kissing you all over your face and apologising (with his noot noot pout) for his silly behaviour because come one - seeing you upset over his stupid prank is the last thing he wants to see. 
❥ jeonghan 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] ten minutes 
as much of a menace as he is, he wouldn’t be able to ignore you for more than ten minutes. first of all - he simply gets bored. that’s it - bored. you’re right next to him, and he can’t talk to you, which is so??? he loves yapping when you’re next to him. second of all - he needs to touch you. yoon jeonghan needs his cuddles and kisses, and how is he supposed to get them if he’s ignoring you? third of all - he might be a bit mean (with love) sometimes, but there is no way he’d ever pull a prank on you which would involve you getting genuinely upset. like - making your partner insecure? mhm, not with hannie. so, he’d kind of try to ignore you for a bit (and failing miserably because he’d answer you half of the time anyways), and so after ten minutes he just gives up.
❥ joshua 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] twenty minutes 
joshua is a bit similar to jeonghan with this (who would have guessed), the only difference is that shua is a bit more perseverant. ignoring you had never come easily to him and it never would be easy for him, but he had to admit that your slightly pouty lip was adorable, and he could practically see your brain trying to figure out what was going on. however, when he saw the first signs of you being actually upset, the entire bubble around this "funny" prank disappeared. no joke was worth your sadness, no matter how cute it made you look. shua quickly realised that the prank itself didn't make much sense and that he would much rather hug you right now than pretend that you weren't there at all.
❥ jun 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] one hour 
he didn’t come up with that prank on his own, he’d never, but a lost bet is a lost bet, and he had to take the punishment. he felt so bad avoiding you, when you asked him about his day, if he was hungry, if he needed some rest, and when you started to ask if he needed space, some time alone, and if he wanted you gone for a while - jun’s heart broke. but he felt like it was too late to take everything back because you looked so sad and upset, and you probably hated him now too, so he couldn't say anything. an hour would be his breaking point - fuck it if you hated him, he needed you, and he needed to apologise, and damn the person who came up with this stupid prank. 
❥ hoshi 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 1.5 minute 
when his friends told him about this prank, and how they pranked their significant others, soonyoung thought it was such a brilliant idea, and he couldn’t wait to try it out on you. as it turned out - it was not brilliant, it fucking sucked. ignoring you, your kiss you always gave him when he came back from work, your questions if everything was okay, was one thing - seeing your upset expression was a whole nother story. you even apologised for being so all over him when he barely entered the apartment, clearly feeling bad, and that would be the end of hoshi’s prank. this man is the simpest simp to ever simp, he cannot stand seeing you sad, especially over something you didn’t even do.
❥ wonwoo 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 0.2- 0.3 seconds 
when wonwoo heard about this prank he was baffled to say the least - what’s so fun in ignoring your significant other? like, what’s the point? wouldn’t you rather hold them close, and spend some precious quality time together rather than ignoring them? somehow, seungcheol and jeonghan managed to persuade him into giving the prank a chance, and wonwoo decided to say yes just to please his friends and get them off his back. no surprise - wonwoo wouldn’t last a second. he’s physically unable to ignore you, a single quiet “wonwoo?” makes him go “yes, baby?” *cue in attentive eyes and a puppy like expression*. besides, he’d never be able to stand you being upset, knowing he was the reason behind your small pout and eyes lacking their usual spark. (also, ignoring you equals no hugs and kisses, and that’s something wonwoo cannot stand).
❥ woozi 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] fifteen minutes 
does not see a point in this “prank”, thinks it’s very stupid and not fun. the only reason he did it in the first place was to stop hearing the constant nagging of hoshi and seungwkan, and if that was what it took to satisfy them, then whatever. he held out for fifteen minutes just because he was working on a lyrics when you came to his studio, and whereas he ignored your first hello because of the prank, he ignored your next questions just because he got distracted by his work. you were used to your boyfriend spacing out during work so that didn’t really bother you, though he never ignored your “hello” so you got a bit scared that he might’ve been angry with you or whatever. it took only one glance at you for woozi to remember that he ignored you when you came in, and he immediately dropped whatever he was doing to apologise and properly greet you with an extra kiss.
❥ dk 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 0.001 second 
not happening, never in a million years. come on, do you really expect seokmin out of all people to ignore you on purpose? over his dead body. the thing was - he overheard about the prank during rehearsals and thought it sounded a bit fun? like, he’d get to see you extra pouty, and he loved nothing more when you got cute like that - so the prank had to work, right? no. when he got home later that night, and you greeted him in the hallway with his hoodie draped over your body, rubbing your eyes with the sweater paws because it was way too late for you to be up, all of his intentions of executing the prank went out of the window immediately. later that night, when he held you close to his chest he felt so silly for even thinking that the prank would be a good idea.
❥ mingyu 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 2 minutes 
this man is too big of a yapper and too big of a clingy puppy to ignore you, besides he’s not that big on pranks, especially if it involves you getting upset. just try to imagine mingyu ignoring you, even though you didn’t do anything wrong. you can't, right? that’s the thing - mingyu has to touch you at all times, and he loves nothing more than talking to you, so why on earth would he go around ignoring you, wasting your precious time together on a silly prank? he tried it out just to see how many minutes he’d last, and well - he didn’t hold out for long, definitely not when you dropped your head and left the bedroom, thinking he was annoyed with you. he’d immediately follow you and explain that it was just a stupid prank (in return you’d give him a silent treatment ☺️)
❥ minghao 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] two hours max 
the trophy goes to xu minghao - he’s the strongest of them all, though that doesn't mean it’s any less painful for him. when minghao decides on doing something he commits, he pours his heart and soul into whatever he does, even if it’s just a stupid prank. he wasn’t sure how he even ended up in this situation - him in your bedroom, trying to occupy himself with reading, and you in the living room, probably trying to figure out what you did wrong for your boyfriend to be ignoring you. he would have ended this stupid prank a long time ago if it wasn’t for his pride and stubbornness because now he’d have to admit to coming up with this stupid ass prank, and making you feel bad just for his entertainment (which he was not entertained by). when the clock struck the second hour after he locked himself in the bedroom, he threw away the book and practically ran out to you, an apology speech ready.
❥ seungkwan 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] half an hour 
his stubbornness to admit the defeat of his prank would be the only reason why he’d hold out half an hour, if not for that he’d be running back to you after a minute. seungkwan was sure this prank would be the perfect way to get back at you for your last joke that you pulled on him, but surprise surprise - it wasn’t. he was still going strong when he saw your small pout - he thought the prank was working, and he’d get his revenge, but it wasn’t before he saw how sad you actually got that he started regretting everything. you started avoiding him like fire, you didn’t even dare to look at him, and that’s when seungkwan realised the prank was a bad idea after all, like - he didn’t mean for you to get so upset, he just wanted to make you a bit whiny and pouty for him, but none of that happened. after half an hour he was like “fuck it” because he wasn’t able to stand seeing you sad.
❥ vernon 
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] five minutes 
to be honest he just gets bored with the prank. he didn’t come over to your apartment to spend his day off ignoring you, and whoever came up with this “silent treatment prank” is plainly stupid. for one, vernon hates seeing you upset - obviously. like, who would want to ignore their partner just for funsies, and see them upset over something they didn’t do and make them self conscious? besides, it was his day off, and he wouldn’t spend it ignoring you, so after five minutes he was ready to curse out his friends that made him try out this “prank”, and apologise for acting so silly. 
❥ chan  
[ ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ] 0.5 seconds 
yeah, no - thank you next. this man, this man is a simp and he’s so in love with you it’s a bit worrying, there is literally nothing that could ever convince him to ignore you, for what - entertainment? because that’s what the prank sounded like, ignoring your significant other for entertainment. there were so many other things you could do together without either of you getting upset, so why not do them? one of his biggest goals in life is to keep you safe, loved, and happy - so he will not indulge in his friends' antics with this stupid ass prank. even the thought of ignoring you on purpose makes him sick, like… why? he would not be able to stand your upset expression, or the thought that you’d get self conscious about yourself. hell. no.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 4 months
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tatted
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words: 1k
warnings: established relationship, husband!rafe, tattoos
“mmm, good morning wifey.” rafe pulls you in closer to him, legs tangled together under the blanket.
“i’ll never get sick of hearing you call me that.” you smile, pressing a kiss to rafes chest as you snuggle into him, the morning light illuminating the room.
you’re both still on vacation mode, having just gotten back from your honeymoon two days ago. “i wish i didn’t have to get up, but i’ve got an appointment, baby.” “wait, what?” you whine, picking your head up. “you didn’t say anything about a doctors appointment.” your bottom lip pouts out, making rafe lean forward to kiss the frown off your face. 
“don’t worry, we will spend all day together as soon as i get back.” rafe slides himself out from underneath you, quickly heading to the closet to get dressed. he waited as long as possible to get out of bed, not wanting to part from you, but now having to rush out the door.
“mmm, i’ll probably stay in bed all day.” your body was still on maldives times, not even bothering to readjust to being back in the outer banks.
“perfect.” rafe leans over the bed, giving a kiss goodbye. “no need for my wife to even lift a finger.”
you smile at rafe, cupping his jaw to give him a firm kiss. “come home soon, i miss you already hubby.” 
--
“that was a long doctors appointment.” you frown as rafe reenters the house. you eventually dragged yourself out of bed, taking a shower and eating what you considered breakfast despite it being past noon.
“you know, darling” rafe says as he toes his shoes off, leaving them in the foyer. “i just said appointment, nothing about doctors.”
“what other type of appointments are there?” your brow furrows together as rafe joins you on the couch.
“tattoo.” rafe says with a shrug, making your eyes widen.
“you-you got a tattoo?” 
rafe raises his left hand. you finally realize he has a clear wrap covering his fingers. you take his hand gently in yours, looking through the film at the first letter of your name, complimented by a small heart on his ring finger.
“i’ll put the ring back on once it’s healed, but just in case i ever have to take it off, i need everyone to know that i’m still yours.” rafe says, waiting for your reaction.
“i love you.” you finally manage to get out, melting into rafe, making sure not to press against his hand as the red skin heals.
--
“i’ve got something for you baby!” rafe calls out, smiling as you skip into the kitchen.
“what is it?” you question, tilting your head to the side, expecting rafe to be holding something in his arms, but instead he lifts his loose sleeve, revealing fresh ink on his inner bicep. 
“whats it say?” you quickly move closer to read the script, eyes filling with tears when you realize that rafes newest tattoo is your wedding vows.
“oh.” you cover your mouth. “rafey, this is so sweet. i love it.” you press your lips against his. rafe clearly saw your reaction to the first tattoo, the way your eyes tracked over it whenever he moved his hands, the way you were practically begging to be fingered with just his tattooed finger, watching it disappear inside of you, the cold press of his ring against your cunt.
“love having reminders of the best day of my life on my body.” rafe never viewed himself as a tattoo guy, seeing himself as too indecisive, but his mind quickly changed when he realized they could all be dedicated to you, the one constant, the one steady thing in his life.
--
“i’m thinking about getting another tattoo.” rafe hums. its been a couple months and the script on his forearm is now fully healed. 
“really?” you hum. “what are you thinking, my name on your dick?” you joke, but rafe still cringes thinking about the needle dragging over his sensitive skin.
“definitely not. i was thinking your eyes on the back of my neck.” rafe turns, rubbing his hand over the area he was thinking.
“wouldn’t that hurt a lot?” you ask with a pout, but rafe just shrugs.
he makes an appointment the very same day, looking through all the pictures he has saved of you until he finds the perfect one. you’re smiling at him on the other side of the table on your two year anniversary of dating. 
he shows it off to you a week later, and you’re surprised how much you like it, kissing down his spine when you help him take his shirt off before looking at yourself in the eyes, but in tattoo form.
--
rafe won’t admit it to you, but he’s addicted to getting tattoos, wanting to cover his body in everything and anything relating to you. he does end up getting a few others, mostly to fill up what he feels are blankspots, a smattering of patchwork tattoos covering his body, along with a few more dedicated to you.
“rafey?” you call to him as he comes home, his hand now wrapped in clear plastic. 
“hey baby.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. you eye the wrap until rafe turns his hand to reveal that he has the word married across the side, yet another reminder of your union.
“i was actually thinking…” you mumble before trailing off, not restarting your sentence until rafe nods at you to continue, looking at you expectantly. “i was actually thinking of getting a tattoo myself. just the letter r on my ring finger. to match yours.” 
you twist your ring on your hand shyly, not sure if rafe would like the idea of you getting tattoos. you’ve never shown any interest in getting them yourself, but you’ve had to take your ring off enough times to swim or wash dishes and don’t want to be without that reminder of rafe even for a short amount of time.
rafes smile stretches across his cheeks. “i thought you’d never ask, wifey.”
rafe sets an appointment for you with his favorite tattooer before you can second guess yourself.
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hazelfoureyes · 3 months
Text
The Safeword is RadioApple (part 1)
I’m gonna go ahead and apologize right now
Lucifer x FemaleReader x Alastor
Part 1 ꒰აMaleReader✧FemaleReader໒꒱ Part 2 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱ Part 3 ꒰აAlastorxLucifer໒꒱ tidbit (cute, not smut) Part 4 ꒰აFemaleReader໒꒱✨NEW✨ ₊⊹⁀➴ Lucifer wins⟡Alastor Wins
Alastor would give you anything, all you had to do was ask. When you asked for Lucifer, he delivered. But after seeing just how much you enjoyed Alastor’s rough handling, Lucifer takes a turn and gets a little lost in the pleasure.
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, smut, RadioApple in a sense, fem reader, creampie, breath play, rough sex, Alastor is an eternal little shit, soft jazz, hard jazz, Luci calls himself Daddy, 🗣️ READER GETS SPITROASTED, threesome, cervix hulk smashed, half assed blowjob, help I got too horny on main
Minors dni
“Sir.”
Lucifer jumped, whipping around and shoving Alastor’s face away. “You are a living nightmare, fuck!” He hated being snuck up on, as most people do. Adjusting his hat, he looked around the hotel lobby to see if anyone else witnessed his personal jump scare. Charlie and Vaggie were seated nearby, but hadn’t paid them any attention.
“I aim to please! Now,” Alastor gestured to the stairs, “I, unfortunately, need to show you something upstairs.”
“Ha!” Lucifer forced out a laugh, “Ha. Haaa- Not a chance, scarecrow. Find someone else to search for your brain.” He smirked to himself. “Did you hear that Charlie? I made a joke.”
But Charlie was not laughing. She finally turned her focus to them. “Dad, you have to start trying to get along with Alastor.” She looked to Alastor who was nodding along as if he actually cared at all, “He’s trying to spend time with you. Come on, Dad. For me?”
With a pout, he dramatically crossed his arms, “Fine. I’ll play nice, for you. Not for him.” Lucifer glared daggers at Alastor. “Fuck him.”
“Daaad!” She groaned.
“Yeah yeah, I’m going.” 
Alastor let his microphone follow behind Lucifer’s back, an unseen and unfelt safety net so he couldn’t back out. When they approached Alastor’s door, Lucifer put up his hands as if to physically stop the situation from progressing, “There is no way in all of hell I am going in your bedroom.”
Alastor’s eyes rolled, frustrated already with the interaction. “Are you sure about that?” He pushed the door open, using his mic to make contact with the small of Lucifer’s back. He stopped resisting when he finally looked into the room.
He took a step in, willingly, and as he saw you sitting in the center of the bed in just your silk sleep robe, he let out a quiet, “What the fuck is this?”
Then a louder, “Heeey, kitten…”. The sound of the door locking made his head whip back to Alastor, teeth bared.
“Luci.”
Softened under the sound of his own name from your lips he brought his attention back to the bed.
It was no secret to anyone that you two were fond of each other. It was the little things you did that endeared the fallen angel to you, how you doted on him. Filling his glass at dinner when you noticed it getting close to empty, holding the door for him, keeping eye contact when he went off on some excited tangent.
Everyone was also aware you were Alastor’s person. And Alastor would give you anything you wanted in death; and today you happened to want Luci.
You’d seen the broadcasts of the King of Hell defending his daughter during the last extermination. The power he gave off, even from your screen, brought goosebumps down your arms. So when you found your way to the hotel, you were elated to see Lucifer himself readily available for interactions. Your luck continued, as your father’s love of jazz had been passed down to you and allowed the radio demon to notice your presence among the sea of new residents. Following the sounds of Nat ‘King’ Cole, he found you one evening in your room, and a mutual fondness for music bore a new friend. And then, more. 
Soon enough you were a regular member of the Hazbin Hotel core crew, by way of Alastor.
That’d been some months ago now, and you finally had the courage to ask Alastor for a special favor.
No part of him understood your motivation, but the idea of making the king of hell pussy-whipped to his darling was understanding enough. And, of course, the pleasure of watching you enjoy yourself. While he was capable all his own, he was happy to allow someone else to fill in. Not to mention—- no, actually, definitely mention the fact it would give him a little more power in the tense dynamic between himself and Lucifer.
For Alastor, sharing you physically wasn’t an issue. Sex was something he did for your pleasure, though he did enjoy the control he held over you in those intimate moments.
Watching you mewl under someone else, knowing he gave the permission, that Lucifer would never have a chance in Hell if The Radio Demon didn't allow it, made his head dizzy with the loss of blood flow. Whatever pleasure Lucifer could give you was pleasure he has granted you both. The idea of someone pining for you but never having a chance unless he says so made him feel powerful.
“I have a request, of sorts.” You tried to keep your smile still, cheeks twitching with pure nerves. The room was lit by only two small lamps on either nightstand and the light coming from the half open bathroom.
Lucifer approached you, making a dramatic point of going past Alastor. The radio demon chuckled, the king of hell scowled. He placed one knee on the end of the bed, trying to forget this was the spot you shared most nights with Alastor. His smile encouraged you to continue.
“You can say no.” You added quickly. 
“Why would I ever do that?” Lucifer continued to smile at you, too sweetly for what you were going to ask.
“Many reasons.” You added quicker. 
“Come on, tell Luci.” He laughed softly at the idea of denying you anything.
You pressed the tips of your index fingers together nervously, “I want you to fuck me.”
He tried to blink but his eyelids only seemed to rise further and further up his face with every attempt.
“You what now?”
His eyes darted to Alastor, who was now crawling onto the bed and settling behind you. 
“It was a fairly straightforward statement, sir.” Alastor’s tone was always teetering on mocking when he addressed Lucifer, “My dear would like you, for some god awful reason, to bed her.”
If this hadn’t been such a shock, Lucifer would have quipped, “Oh because you can’t, you overdressed maitre d’?”
But when he opened his mouth, there was nothing. He just stared at you. Alastor’s long legs and lanky arms came down beside you, behind you. You looked like the enticing light of an angler fish’s lure, sharp teeth shining just over your shoulder. 
“I thought-,” he motioned between the two of you.
You nodded, “Alastor is happy when I’m happy. And right now, I’d be overjoyed to spend an evening taking care of you.”
Oh, why couldn’t you have said it so sweetly the first time? Take care of him? You always did. Every time he felt something lacking he’d find you close behind offering him just the thing.
Whether a smile, or supportive word, or just a sympathetic ear.
Shifting onto your hands and knees, you crawled toward Lucifer. His face was flush, his brows knitted together in some mix of worry and confusion.
“You don’t have to do that, kitten. I don’t need that.” He reached out a hand to touch your cheek but stopped himself; he’d never touched you before. He had gone out of his way to avoid it, because he couldn’t bear what it would do to him. He’d just be hurting himself, he had thought. His hand began to pull away but you reached out with both of yours and took hold of his wrist.
“I don’t have to do anything, ever, Luci,” Alastor’s grin widened as you said it. A hum of approval only he could hear. A silent, ‘That’s my girl.’
“This is about what I want.” You leaned up to rest your cheek in his open palm, “I’ll accept any answer from you.” Your eyes staring up at him promised safety, “So, what do you want?”
He buried his face in his free hand, opening his fingers to look over you once more. In the shade of the canopied bed, Alastor sat motionless. But Lucifer couldn’t see him, not because of the shadows but because his focus was so purely on you. He had absolute tunnel vision, which happened often when you two would speak. Lucifer made a low sound, coming from somewhere deep in his chest,  hidden beneath all his shame and sense of inadequacy.
Your question was answered as he removed his hat, tossing it to the chaise lounge near the wall. You sat back on your legs and gave him space to remove his coat. Your heart seemed to double its pace, skin practically vibrating. A not-insignificant part of you expected a gentle but firm, “kindly fuck off.”
He seemed to be avoiding eye contact as he pulled his bow tie loose, only returning his knee to the bed when he’d kicked off his boots. Just the shifting of the weight of the bed made your thighs twitch, finally. Alastor leaned backed and watched, Lucifer’s gaze was full of uncertainty as he crawled to you. 
Hilarious. Already worth the price of admission. 
Both on your knees, you leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Lucifer’s lips. Pulling back, you looked at him and he felt like we’re looking at the sun. Your face was so bright, and warm. What light were you reflecting back at him? Surely not his own. That was long dead. Long buried under bruised wings and lost promises. 
You snaked your fingers into his hair and brought him in for a deeper kiss. When you bit gently on his bottom lip, he shakily opened his mouth. Your grin spread across both of your faces as you pushed your way past his lips.
Lucifer’s tongue was long, and tapered more than you’d expected. It moved, unsure, against yours. Your hands slunk out of his hair and down his chest, sliding until finding the buttons of his vest. 
You felt him gasp into you, and when you began to open his shirt he pulled away, “It’s been… a very long time.”
A scream echoed in your skulll, your own scream, thankfully entirely in your mind. He was so cute. So soft. He looked so worried, you wanted to rip him to pieces with affection. Was that possible? You were going to try.
Your hands fumbled over his belt, the tremble in your fingers making the pants button feel like an aptitude test. Your mouth returned to him, kissing down his cheeks and into the space under his jaw. Finally you could slip your hand down into his pants, and you hissed without thinking.
He was painfully hard, throbbing head pressed into his skin. 
Did you do this? Had you gotten the King like this with just a question and a kiss? Tip nearly purple with pressure, you rested your forehead on his collarbone and watched his stomach jump as you wrapped your fingers around it.
Alastor fought back a laugh, tongue nearly cut clean off with the attempt. This was better than he had expected. And he had just the idea to push it over the top.
When your head dipped to swipe your tongue over Lucifer’s cock, you both startled at the sudden sound of music. First you looked to the radio, then to Alastor.
One hand was loosening his bow tie, the other unbuckling his pants. 
“Don’t stop on my accord,” he bit his bottom lip, watching your attention return to Lucifer’s lap.
Lucifer raised a finger in protest, “I wasn’t aware this was a group activity.”
“The more the merrier.” Alastor whipped his belt off and tossed it to the floor, other hand pulling his member free.
“Three’s a crowd.” 
“Two heads are better than one.” When Alastor lifted your robe away and sunk himself into you, no preparation, you moaned into the blonde hair at the base of Lucifer’s cock.
Your breath over his shaft and now down his balls made his hips buck against you. Your hands gripped at Lucifer’s thighs, trying to get steady enough to return your mouth to his waiting heat. You could smell his arousal, your head dizzy with so many of your senses being assaulted by both men. 
“You okay, kitten?” A concerned hand came to your cheek. 
Your watery, lust clouded eyes met his, “It feels so good, Luci.” His dick jerked. When you finally managed to get him in your mouth his head fell back, legs under him twitching with the need to move along to the bobbing of your head. Lucifer was wider than Alastor, the corners of your mouth burning as you tried to take in as much of him as possible. 
Alastor’s hand raked long nails down your back, a whine ran from your throat and down Lucifer’s shaft.  He moaned in turn, trying to not connect the dots between himself and Alastor.
“I think you may need a little demonstration, from someone more–, “ Alastor leaned down, his face now inches from Lucifer’s. His hand wrapped around your neck, “experienced.” He pulled you up by your throat.
Lucifer watched, your knees no longer touching the bed as Alastor fucked up into you. One hand gripping your throat, one arm holding your body against his. Your face began to redden, and your thighs noticeably clenching as best they could, legs open and feet on either side of Alastor’s body. Lucifer winced, you looked pained, he wanted—
“Aa--Alastor,” Your voice was like honey, thick and sweet around Alastor’s name. Lucifer’s face fell flat, how could he have that? What did he need to do to have you say his name in such a debauched way? Why did that gangly sack of bones get all of the fun?
“See? She can handle more than you’d expect.” Alastor grinned, planting a kiss on your neck. You could see Lucifer watching through your wet eyelashes, his cock twitching repeatedly as his hand finally came down to touch himself. 
With the hand not holding onto Alastor’s wrist at your throat, you reached out for Lucifer. “Luci.” 
Alastor let you fall forward. Keeping your hips in the air and knees dangling just above the comforter, he continued his rough pace into your sopping cunt. Pulling your body on and off of his length with harsh drags he watched you lick from the base to the top of Lucifer’s member. Each thrust from him knocking your chin against it. 
When you popped the head back into your mouth and moaned around it from Alastor’s continued fucking, Lucifer gripped your hair with both hands. Alastor’s own erection jumped in you, the king of hell himself buckling from his dearest’s mouth. He could break him entirely by just pulling you off of Lucifer’s cock and refusing to return you. He was positive Lucifer would cry into his ruined orgasm if he did such a thing.
Tempting.
But, he promised to play along, for you. And he would, at his own terms. 
He pushed aside the thought entirely, instead returning to the task in front of him. Your tongue was pinned down when Lucifer was in your mouth, cock too fat to allow any room for movement. You abandoned trying to suck him off, and changed tactics to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh in your hands. 
Lucifer’s mind was—- he wasn't sure where exactly. His consciousness splintered around you. The feeling of you; your tongue was swirling around him, the first contact he’s had other than himself in literal years. The sound of you; your soft moans and huffs were both audible and physical, the hot breath ghosting over him. The sight of you; head in his lap as he leaned back, your ass in the air and making a satisfying slapping noise every time– 
Alastor. His eyes met Lucifer’s and a wicked grin took hold of his features. Lucifer could practically hear Alastor whisper across your body, ‘Watch this.’ Maybe Alastor had thought it, but he kept it to himself. 
Your hands began pumping Lucifer’s length while your body was slightly dragged away as Alastor backed up and let your knees find some solid ground again. 
Lucifer sat on his legs still, eyes flitting from between your face to the place you and Alastor connected. He could see Alastor disappearing inside you, and every intrusion had you gasping and mewling into the blankets. Your hand was still gently stroking him with outstretched arms, eyes clenched close.
Alastor smirked up at Lucifer, coming down over your back to reach around your body and find your clit with his middle finger. Immediately, you reacted. Legs squeezing together, hands stilling around your king’s cock. With a bite and lick to your shoulder blade, the radio demon set a bruising pace against you. That warmth in your core was spreading down as you felt him press against your cervix with every kiss of his hips. 
You choked out his name, a chant Lucifer had never wanted to hear before now. How could you make Alastor’s name sound so delicious? He wrapped his fingers around yours on his dick and began moving with you. Your eyes rolled up to him, a weak smile forming before your orgasm made your jaw lock. Alastor knew your body so well, bringing you to orgasm was like playing a well practiced song on the piano. Both required strong and fast fingers and a sense of rhythm. 
With a few more deeper, shorter moves Alastor stilled, too. Your knees slid down as your hips sank into the bed. 
Lucifer let your hand go limp, swallowing hard. He wasn’t ignorant to the way Alastor smiled at him as he reclined into the headboard, tucking himself back into his pants. 
“I have complete faith in you, for once.” Alastor teased Lucifer, hand motioning to your still limp body. His smile seemed to dare Lucifer, challenge him, to keep going even with Alastor’s release sitting pretty in you. 
Luci took a deep breath, steadying himself mentally, before pushing the hair from your forehead, “Hey there, kitten. What do ya need?”
With an uncharacteristic hunger in your eyes, you forced your line of sight up to him, “You, Luci.” Visibly shuddering, you sat up and brought your legs towards him, your knees touching each other in an odd display of shyness. Your hand felt at your entrance, Alastor’s seed just beginning to find its way from your relaxed walls. 
“Is it okay?” You asked, spreading the thick fluid between your fingers in front of Luci. 
Something between a grimace and a pout came over him, it wasn’t his ideal situation but the idea of — just how much he’d slip and slide between your folds with the added lubrication made him feel feral. He wasn’t stupid, he knew Alastor hoped to ruin you and sour his experience. He decided to not allow it. 
With a kiss to his nose, you wrapped your arms around his neck and lied back. You weren’t sure you were breathing anymore when you felt his scorching head slot up with your entrance. He rubbed the leaking fluid over himself and you with swipes up and down your lips. The difference between his heat and the cooled cum made him shiver in turn. 
As he began to press into you, your body instinctively scooted away. It took both of your hands hooked under his arms to stay still enough for him to make any real headway. 
Luci stopped, your face clearly pained. Your head shook in response, “Please, you just have to keep going. I’ll adjust.” While both of his heads swelled with pride – Alastor’s cock clearly smaller – Luci didn’t notice the wild eyes of the radio demon. 
Alastor brought a hand to his face, red eyes peering between his spread fingers, smile threatening to break at the seams as he watched Lucifer Morningstar fucking his cum into his darling doe. 
 What a pitiful sight. How humiliating.
What would Charlie think of her big bad daddy? What would the other sins say? If they could see their king now, slick and shiny?
Your nails cut into his skin, and you were sure you were tearing slightly. Instead of attempting to thrust his way in, he chose to just continually press. The way your body seemed to be splitting made you second guess your decisions. But when his head finally popped in, your hole got some reprieve. He stopped, taking deep breaths. 
Tears were collecting on your waterline, Luci noticed and leaned on an elbow to wipe them away. His blonde hair was falling forward now, tickling at your forehead. 
You nodded, answering a question he didn’t ask, and he continued to force your walls open to accommodate him. The only sound in the room was the soft instrumental jazz number playing from atop the dresser. Your voice was stuck in your throat, Luci was focusing too hard to form words. Alastor could speak, but the music was just too enjoyable to interrupt. 
Finally, after what could have been two minutes or twenty, you felt Luci bottom out. You had to just lie there for a second, never having felt something so solid in your otherwise soft body. No slight to Alastor, who was perfectly skilled in his abilities. Luci was just—- more than you had expected. 
As he pulled out, you thanked the heavens and hell and the rings within that Alastor had left you so wet and already softened. The first few thrusts were genuinely uncomfortable, the pleasure you felt almost entirely mental, drawn from the reality of who was pulling your insides back and forth. You were so tight around him that he too was almost pained; so much pressure but no way to move enough to get any release.
Slowly, the ring of your entrance relented and Luci could finally move at a normal pace. He would take himself out to his head before slipping back in. Every thrust made your body spread around him, a semi-truck through a field of sunflowers. Your body didn’t stand a chance, and you were grateful he chose gentleness for his entrance.
He leaned back on both hands, using the position to fucked up into you at an angle. He knew very well where to hit to begin gathering your pleasure.
Alastor dropped his head, yours between his legs. His hair made a short curtain, hiding the look he was giving you from Luci. He adores the faces you make when you are happy. Excited. Pleasured. You tried to offer him a smile, but you couldn’t manage it for long. Your eyes would wretch shut, lips tighten as you focused on the feeling Luci was providing. Focused on the sensations, of being so full, so wet, so wanted. But Alastor was still watching, the sight of Luci blocked from his view as he enjoyed every little twitch of your mouth, every whimper. 
It wasn’t jealousy, it was something more personal that stung Luci. While he couldn’t actually discern the looks you two gave each other, Luci felt very much the odd man out. But, he considered his position. Literally. He was leaning as far from your body as he could. He remembered the way you said Alastor’s name. Alastor had showed him exactly what to do, albeit in his usual obnoxious, showy fashion.
Sitting up, Luci adjusted your legs and slotted himself between them. Alastor leaned back, relinquishing your focus. Both of you looked at Luci though as one of his hands came to enclose your throat.
Alastor was almost impressed. Almost. You brought both hands to wrap around his wrist, glancing to Alastor behind you.
The words came out of Alastor as half warning, half instruction, “If she needs you to stop, she’ll tap two fingers twice on you, wherever she can reach.” Lucifer nodded, eyes not meeting Alastor’s. He kept them on your face, watching for any sign of distress as he tightened his grip. The way your pussy clenched around him earned you a hiss.
He began to move again, the new position causing him to rub against your clit as he buried himself in you. More clenching; He tightened his grip more. 
“Are you sure she isn’t hurting?” Luci asked, your eyes closed and nails digging into his wrists.
“Nonsense. Can’t you feel her? Or does she just grip me like that?” The cocky expression made Luci unconsciously clench his fist on your neck. A gentle tap tap snapped him back to you. He loosened up again, his eyes large and apologetic.
You tightened your own grip on his dick, grinding up into him for more friction. Your body had finally relaxed, pleasure freely flowing from where you and Luci tangled together. You closed your eyes, the pressure constant on the veins to your head. Blood flow restricted just enough to lower your oxygen levels and raise the nitrogen oxide in your body. It resulted in a dizzying feeling, maybe there was a primal panic that caused your body to feel heightened pleasure. You didn’t feel scared, or in danger. You felt —— ah there it was. You felt weak. You felt docile. You felt like you existed purely to give pleasure and the idea turned you on. In every day life you’d never allow someone to use you, to push you around. You were anything but subservient. That’s why it was so enthralling now. It was so strange a sensation. And to give yourself so fully to the king of hell, the originator of all sin? You groaned, head rolling back. 
Luci watched your head loll, drank in your groans and gasps and felt himself get dizzy too. More. Say his name like you did Alastor’s. Praise how well he fucked you. Reward him. Love him.
He pulled out suddenly, his head leaving you for the first time since it managed to fit in initially. Luci put both hands on your hips and directed you to roll onto your stomach. He pulled your ass up, knees bent. You crawled up enough to rest your forehead on the crook of Alastor’s leg, one lazily outstretched and the other bent under him slightly. Luci wasted no time pushing back in. He leaned over you and pressed his hand into your back, forcing your chest to be slightly crushed into the bed. He pulled out and slammed back into you, tearing a yelp from you as he hit deeper than he had before. 
He stopped, unsure, until he felt your hand reach under yourself and rest at the junction of his knee and calf. His other hand came to your right hip, and he used it to keep you from sliding up the bed. Letting his eyes close again, he focused on the feeling of you around him. His crotch and thighs were soaking wet, his balls tight against him. Every drag out of you made his body jerk back into you with need. It felt so good, too good. He needed more. He pressed hard into you, oversized tip of his cock threatening to push past your cervix. He made shorter thrusts now, ensuring he bottomed out every time. It was too deep, too much of a stretch. Your moans slowly devolved into screams, the pleasure mixed with a soft burning. 
You could feel him spreading open your womb. The feeling of your cunt pressing down on him from all sides including the front was driving him mad.
You were screaming. Actual, pleasured screams, threatening to alert the entire hotel to your activities. Screams that started shrill and dipped into a gutteral cry filled the room with every thrust of Lucifer’s frenzied hips.
A tiny part of your brain felt embarrassed, a dying animal shrieking into Alastor’s thigh.
An ever shrinking part of Lucifer existed too, the piece of him too preoccupied with your two fingers on his leg to enjoy you. It got smaller and smaller, no longer a blockade to his pleasure, but a safety net allowing him to walk the tightrope of sadism.
The radio’s volume dial rolled, smooth jazz now blaring and drowning out your painfully pleasured cries. Alastor was fine with allowing someone to take care of your needs at his permission but strangers had no business enjoying your sounds.
As Luci became lost in the sensation of your wet pussy trying to suck him in whole, his hand on your back began to press down. Your breaths got shorter, it got harder to expand your lungs fully.
Face turned and drooling onto the fabric of Alastor’s pants, you started gasping out his name, “Luci! Nngh Luciiii, Lucifer.”
Your lips dropped his name and it fell like lead into his thoughts. He fought the urge to close his eyes again as he felt his orgasm building. He watched your flushed skin jump beneath every punishing thrust, his name a spell you could now barely whisper, not enough breathe to scream. Your upper body was entirely buried into the mattress. It felt like your back might snap with Luci’s loss of control. You kept your hand on his leg, ever ready to tap out.
The yellow of his eyes turned red, just like the skin of your ass where his hip bones chaffed. “You take me so well, kitten.” He ground out, “Daddy’s gonna cum.”
Alastor’s eyes glowed a blood red from the end of the bed, a wickedly devious grin across his face at the opportunity before him, he looked up at Luci and said with a commanding tone, “Cum.”
Luci was already over that peak when his eyes flew up to catch Alastor’s, it was too late to stop his orgasm. He was helpless to disobey, despite his now desperate desire to never cum again. With a moan, and a hiss, he pressed your body fully into the mattress. Your body now flush, he waited until his cock stopped jerking his long overdue seed into your bruised womb.
Luci lied on top of you even after you were full to the brim with his cum. It was already forcing its way out around his softening cock when he managed to roll off of you and onto his back.
Staring at the canopy of the bed, he felt two emotions rise to the surface. First, concern. He turned to you, and you gave a weak thumbs up.
Second, rage.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Fuck you.” He looked to Alastor, who was grinning as he pet your head, whispering something to you. 
“Little late for dirty talk, your highness.”
Lucifer growled, but Alastor’s palm pressed against his forehead and pushed him back down to the bed.
“I sleep on the left. I’d prefer you on the right.” he gently moved your head from his lap, “Beside me, my dear. A darling barrier.” Alastor didn’t look at Lucifer, just slid off the bed and walked into the en-suite bathroom. “No outside clothes under the comforter.” Alastor called from the bathroom before the sound of rushing water poured in.
You rolled onto your back, still catching your breath. Body sprawled out on the massive bed like a starfish.
Lucifer turned onto his side, hand caressing your arm. “Are you okay, kitten? I didn’t mean to lose myself like that.” He felt shame, like he had done something terrible. “And— I didn’t help you finish. That’s pretty shitty.”
But it fell away when you smiled back at him, “I feel great. Sore, but great all the same.” You let your fingers clumsily lace with his. “I really like you, Luci. And I don’t need to cum to enjoy myself. You can always try again, ya know?”
Lucifer felt his face grow warm, but couldn’t press you to clarify what exactly that meant before Alastor scooped you up and carried you to the bath.
There was a moment where he was alone, noticing the radio was back to a tolerable volume, the water splashing softly out of view. He felt out of place, like he had accidentally walked into a stranger’s home. He wasn’t sure what to do next, where to go from there when Alastor’s head popped back into the room, annoyed, “Are you coming or not? Those are clean sheets.”
༻Masterlist༺
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months
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How they’d react to you not kissing/hugging him before leaving for a mission…
Dick acts as though you told him his ass isn’t that fat in his spandex suit-
He’s insulted.
You always, always remember to kiss his cheek before he leaves. His ‘good luck, be safe and kick ass’ cheek kiss!
It’s your thing as a couple! Do you want to see him cry because he fucking will! He’ll do it!
Dick will pout, huff and whine loud as possible in hopes that you’d realise your error and rectify it tenfold. He won’t tell you what’s wrong. No, he wants and expects you to figure it out for yourself, which doesn’t get him anywhere when you’re looking at him confused and lost as to what he was whining about; Literally.
His mood will be down for the entirety of the day and you’ll no doubt have texts from his teammates and family members asking what was wrong with Dick to look so down.
You’re just as confused as them seeing as how Dick didn’t disclose his innermost thoughts and feelings to you despite being his partner, so you were at a loss on how to help them with something even you weren’t privy to knowing…it’s probably one of your biggest issues as a couple but that’s for another time.
Dick will do that pathetic thing where he looks back at you expectantly the closer he gets towards the door, even going so far as to walk extremely slow when he was within reaching distance of the door handle as to buy you enough time to notice before he genuinely had to leave.
When you don’t however, Dick acts like a kicked puppy for the rest of the day and will proceed to exaggerate to anyone with ears about how his lover was restricting him of his affection.
On the other hand, If you do manage to remember to give him a good luck kiss, planting an extra one on his other cheek for extra, extra luck. Dick will have a permanent smile on his face that will not go the fuck away, even when he’s beating someone’s ass, the smile remains glued on his face as though with gorilla glue.
Seeing Dick brutally beat someone’s ass with a smile was horrifying for anyone to witness but it’s okay bc he’s happy that you remembered to kiss him good luck.
Jason will immediately call you out on your bullshit.
And by that I mean cross his arms over his chest and stare at you saying. ‘Well?’
And you’re like: ‘well what?’
And he’s like: ‘where’s my good luck kiss that you owe me? Roy is waiting on me and here I am waiting on my kiss, so give me my kiss chipmunk.’
Jason doesn’t piss about and gets to the meat of the issue at hand. He wants his good luck kisses and he wants them now and he will not leave the apartment until he gets them.
You’d raise a brow at his not so subtle neediness for your affection and decided to tease him. ‘I thought you didn’t need my good luck kisses remember? You’re a big boy who can fight with or without my good luck kisses.’
Jason groans, not expecting you to pull that out. ‘I said that one time. One time and I was being a dick back then too because all you wanted to do was show me that you cared about me and didn’t want me to get hurt.’
You smiled and got up from the couch and walked over to him, resting your hands on his biceps. ‘So now that you admit that you were a dick and the way that you acted was wrong…’ you trailed off as you pressed a kiss to his lips once, twice, three times because you loved to kiss Jason whenever possible and will try to plant as many kisses as you could.
‘Thanks chipmunk.’ Jason murmurs against your lips, feeling everything has gone back to being right again. ‘Now I better be off or Roy will tease me for lingering too long-‘
‘Too late.’ Roy said from the doorway and Jason closed his eyes and silently curse while you smiled and waved at Roy. ‘Hi Roy!’ You said. ‘Hi y/n, mind letting Jason come out to play?’ Roy joked. You played along by making a thoughtful face as Jason mutters under his breath; ‘are you being serious right now?’
You snapped your fingers. ‘As long as you make sure Jason doesn’t get into trouble then yes, he may go out and play.’
‘I hate you both.’ Jason groaned as he walked past you and playfully shoved Roy aside to leave the apartment. Roy then cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted after him. ‘Are you sure you don’t want your goodbye kisses?’ You and Roy laugh together upon hearing Jason cursing him out from a distance.
Damian acts indifferent about it.
He doesn’t need a good luck hug, hell! he doesn’t need luck at all!
He’s skilled enough to win any fight without relying on something silly as Luck. Luck was just probability under a different name and definition. (A/n: Don’t quote me on that.)
So when you forget to give him a hug before a mission, Damian doesn’t think anything of it but it will linger in his mind unnecessarily much to his annoyance.
Why was he so hung up on not getting something a silly as a hug? Or was he instead more upset over the fact that you, his closest friend/partner, completely forgot about it as though it wasn’t anything worth remembering.
Either way he was conflicted and didn’t know how to go about saying any of this to you without getting frustrated over his apparent loss for words. He was a man of action more then anything so when he finally catches up to you, he will stride towards you and stop just a couple of inches and silently stare at you with his resting bitch face.
‘Damian?’ You asked. ‘Are you okay?’
Damian doesn’t say anything because he couldn’t think of anything to say in that moment and instead stays silent as to save himself from further embarrassment.
‘Damian?’ You asked again, getting worried over his unusual silence. ‘I can’t help you if you don’t tell me-‘ before you could finish your sentence, Damian had lunged towards you and brought you into a very tight hug. You smile softly and gladly hugged Damian back, not saying a single word other then;
‘You don’t need me to say it but I’ll reaffirm it anyway, you’ll do great out there Dami. I know you will.’
3K notes · View notes
bigfatbimbo · 4 months
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Lucifer Absolutely can't stop himself from thigh humping when making out. Like he can Not keep his hips still he gets almost frantic without realizing he's doing it. If you try to hold his hips still he nearly cries because he didn't know how much he was moving until he stopped and its embarrassing how badly he needs to start again. -mg
a/n — thank you mg this is BEAUTIFUL istg your asks are always top tier oh my god.
anyways, here’s a drabble.
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His hands tugged at your shirt collar trying to bring you closer as your tongue slipped into his mouth. 
He scooted closer you on the couch you both were sitting on, hands moving to your cheeks to deepen the kiss. You finally got fed up with the distance between the two of you, pulling him onto your lap. 
He sighed into your mouth as you rested your hands on his back.
His breath got more ragged the more you kissed, sinking into each other desperately.
He moaned into your mouth and buried his hands your hair, not noticing the way his hips were grinding down on your thigh.
You moved past it at first, focusing on Lucifer’s tongue in your mouth and biting his lip softly. As the kiss deepened, his soft moans paired with the sensation on your leg made it impossible to ignore.
He humped your thigh with such speed and desperation you were almost sure he had to know what he was doing. But his face was completely focused on the kiss, meaning that despite his needy and desperate movements were totally subconscious.
The whine he let out into your mouth was cut short by the way your hands fell to his hips, holding them in place.
“Excited, Luci?” You smile, making him look away with a light blush.
“I didn’t realize I was getting carried away, my love,” he tries to joke but ends up just desperately leaning back into your lips.
You kiss back, falling into the same rhythm you had before, but this time your hands kept him still in your lap.
He tried not the think about the pounding in his neglected dick for as long as possible before it got to his head. He kissed sloppily as his eyes filled with tears and he fell away from your lips.
“Mm, please, I need too, I can’t—“ he whines, squirming slightly as you hold him by his thighs. The hardness in his cock was as undeniable as the desperation in his eyes.
It made you curious, “You want me to touch you, Luci?” your hand falls too graze his bulge.
He whines uselessly, and nods his head while his vision grows blurry from the building tears, “Mhm, yes, god, yes please.” 
“Aw, poor baby, look at you,” you coo condescendingly, “Can’t even handle a little make out session?”
Your palm his pulsating cock through his pants and he half sobs in your arms, pouting into your neck.
“I know I just—“ he starts, face wrinkling up to stop from crying and lets out a desperate whimper.
You life his head up and look at him, your hands start moving his hips for him. He moans before you pull him in for a hungry kiss.
When you break away, a strand of saliva hangs between the two of you. Lucifer’s face was wet from letting out a few tears and his lips were red and puffy.
“Go on then, pretty boy, ride my thigh, just like you wanted.” You move your thigh up into his crotch slightly and he throws his head back in a moan.
He did just like you asked and humped your thigh fast and desperately as tears poured from his face and whines flew out of his mouth.
In was insane how desperate and needy he got from one kiss, and yet, incredibly entertaining.
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anisespice · 1 year
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“ the fuck-it list ” || hq!
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two || three || four
synopsis: there’s a list going around consisting of hot guys on campus that are deemed “fuckable” with theories as to what they’d be like in bed. it’s all fun and games until somehow your boyfriend ends up on this list. 
pairing: various x gn!reader [ kags, akaashi, atsumu, kenma ]
warnings: cursing, suggestive language, mild objectification, mentions of cheating, cringe descriptions that aren’t 100% accurate lol 
notes: based this off how my friend and i speculate about how the men in hq would be like in bed sooo it’s really just a little jokey joke, so have fun with her :] thinking of making more parts of this with other characters, lemme know what you guys think, and hope you enjoy!! 
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To be completely honest, KAGEYAMA wouldn’t know much about the list aside from maybe surface level stuff. He knew it was full of nonsensical speculations, nothing but weird projections put onto strangers by other strangers who found them attractive. It creeped him out a little, so that’s as far as he wished to know. 
Plus, he had no reason to care about some dumb list—He had you. 
“Have you seen this bullshit?!”  Well, speak of the devil. 
All the training in the world couldn’t have prepared his reflexes for the amount of whiplash you put him through in the span of ten seconds. There he was, minding his business in his dorm room, chilling with a volleyball, then BAM; he’s getting bum-rushed by his 5-foot-something significant other with smoke coming through their ears.
Good thing you had a key because the setter was certain you would’ve smashed right through his door by sheer force. 
“Huh??” Frankly, you startled the poor man. The ball that was in the middle of being set toward the ceiling came barreling down on his face, causing him more disorientation. “See—ouch. See what?” 
You stood there next to his bed, one hand on your hip while the other practically shoved your phone in his face. He squinted at the harsh light, but eventually his eyes adjusted enough to read the post. His lips formed a confused pout. “That stupid, horny hit-list? What about it?” 
“What about it? Some bitch put you on there! Just listen to this garbage, ‘Tobio Kageyama. 6’2ft stoic, and mean Dom who’s pretty damn good with his hands. It’s obvious how much of a perfectionist he is, so be ready for some killer overstimulation. Probably won’t make any noise, and doesn’t know much about aftercare. Overall score: 6/10’. Are they deadass right now?” 
Ah. Now he gets it. 
He figured it was only a matter of time, homie was very much aware of his status around campus, not to mention being a looker to top it off. However, he figured being in a relationship would lessen his chances of him ending up on it, especially since you weren’t a secret or anything. Guess that list really had no morality after all. Who’d have thought? 
“I mean, the audacity to put your name on it knowing damn well if anyone even tried it, I’d gorilla glue all their holes shut.” He snorted, face scrunching slightly at your unusual threat. But, something told him deep down you were being serious. 
You continued ranting while pacing back and forth. “But not only that, they completely warped your entire sexual identity just because, what, you know how to mind your business and happen to have a RBF?” 
“RBF?” He tilted his head, making you halt mid-rant to admire the adorable sight. How dare he? You were in the middle of seething, dammit. 
“Resting Bitch Face.” 
He frowned. “I don’t have that.” 
“Tobio, you’re doing it right now.”
He huffed, looking away from you in defiance. His face was fine, he thought, a perfectly normal face indeed. A handsome face, he’d even say. Immediately picking up on his sourness, you chuckled softly before reaching over to cup his face and make him look at you. Kageyama instinctively wrapped his arms around your waist, his frown still apparent, but a little less heavy once it met your soft gaze. “Don’t be pouty.”
“I’m not…” he mumbled, cheeks squished under your palms. A small blush bloomed across the apples at your teasing giggle. “You’re the one that’s upset, not me. Why do you care if they misrepresented how I am in bed? Shouldn’t you be happy it’s inaccurate?” 
Now it was your turn to huff, your bottom lip sticking out. Kageyama’s eyes honed in on its pillowy surface instantly, licking his own as he restrained himself; there’d be plenty of time for that later. 
“I mean, yeah but…I don’t know. It just…feels icky knowing there are random people around campus theorizing about your dick size in the comments, or if you cry after an orgasm. The least they could’ve done was be a little accurate if they’re gonna cause us all this trouble.” 
“Us? Pretty sure I’m the victim here. Who sucks at aftercare, apparently.” He scoffed, of which earned another giggle from you. “Besides, the only person I care about knowing any of that stuff is right here. They can take their 6/10 and fuck right off. I know my baby would rate me higher than that, right?” 
You pursed your lips, avoiding eye contact as you playfully ignored his obvious bait for praise. Kageyama doesn’t take too kindly to that. He softly glared at you, arms tightening their hold around your waist and pulling you even closer to his toned chest. 
“Oh, it’s like that, huh? That’s fine.”
Before you could register what happened, your boyfriend swept you up without struggle and gently tossed you onto his bed. “However, I will admit they were right about one thing.” 
With a slight bounce, you couldn’t fight the delighted squeal as you watched him prowl towards you. 
“Oh, really? And what’s that?”
He hummed softly, large hands traveling up your legs from the ankles all the way to your inner thighs before spreading them open to rest in between them. Finding home there for a brief moment, Kageyama practically smothered you under his gaze, attention once again zeroing in on your lips. He could feel his restraint dissipating, biting his own lip before slowly leaning down to place warm kisses against your skin. He left no spot unloved until he eventually stopped at your ear, his warm breath sending chills down your spine. 
“I’m pretty damn good with my hands.” 
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Like Kageyama, AKAASHI didn’t care to know much about the list. He knows a good chunk of guys that ended up on it personally, and based on the conversations he’s heard them have it sounded like nothing but trouble. 
And he was right to assume such. 
One afternoon a few of his friends came barreling toward him during his break in between classes, each sporting various expressions that ranged from extreme determination (Bokuto) to absolute amusement (Kuroo), while the third looked as if they were brought there against their will (Kenma). Slowly, Akaashi lowered his sandwich with a sigh; so much for a peaceful lunch. 
“AKAASHI.” Bokuto exclaimed, hands slamming down on the table to keep himself from nearly toppling the man. Akaashi flinched slightly at the volume, but before he could reprimand him, Bokuto grabbed him by his shoulders and looked him square in the eyes with grand intensity. “How could you be so selfish? I thought I raised you better than this, young man!”
The former setter gaped; that’s not at all what he was expecting to hear. It didn’t help when Kuroo started busting a lung, both hands on his knees as his hyena-esque laugh bounced off the walls of the canteen. Kenma side-eyed the business major before going back to playing some game on his phone, offering the ravenette a soft greeting, then helping himself to a chair. 
Akaashi acknowledged the pudding-head with a small nod, sharp eyes redirecting back to his senior as he removed the rough hands from his shoulders. “What are you talking about?” 
“I’m talking about you cheating on [_____]!” 
Akaashi blinked. Then, like a switch, his eyes nearly popped out his head as he registered the spiker’s words.  
“WHAT.” 
Kuroo, after finally catching his breath, gave a hearty exhale as he placed a hand on Bo’s shoulder. “Way to rip off the bandaid, buddy. Thought we agreed to work our way up to that part.” 
“Screw that! I demand answers! Can’t believe I’ve been friends with a no good, cheating scumbag, hmph.” Akaashi blanched at the harsh accusation, falling deeper and deeper into a state of pure shock. 
“Wait, hold on—”
“Whoa there, let’s not jump to conclusions. The man hasn’t even gotten the chance to speak for himself. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this whole thing.” Kuroo reasoned, but was obviously eating it up. Kenma lightly scoffed.
“You’re so full of shit.” He voiced, not even bothering to lift his gaze away from the game. Kuroo gasped dramatically at the dig, hand over his heart and everything. The former paid him no mind. 
Akaashi abruptly stood. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on? I’m not cheating on [______], who’s spreading such a thing?” 
Bokuto squinted. “Oya? Then how do you explain this?” 
Like incriminating evidence being shown to a jury, the silver-haired tank pulled up the updated version of the list on his phone that was posted over an hour ago. Akaashi was still perplexed until he saw it. His name. Oh, god no. 
Akaashi snatched the device to get a closer look just to make sure it wasn’t some sort of prank. To his dismay, the post was legit. Oh, god no. 
“You’ve gotta be kidding me…” 
“Uh huh, busted your ass!” Bokuto snatched the phone back only for Kuroo to then take it from him. “Hey!”
Clearing his throat, the sly bastard began reading the caption. “‘Keiji Akaashi. 6’0ft tall, pretty boy with intelligent steel blue eyes. His mysterious nature and bored expression would automatically put him under the Dom category, but I can see right through him.’ Wow, they make you sound like some sort of experiment.” 
“Don’t read that outloud!” Akaashi lunged forward, only to be stopped by a large hand in his face. “Omf-! Fohkuto-son!” 
“What? Ashamed of yourself? You should be, traitor!” 
Kuroo continued. “‘What many would believe to be the strong silent type, I believe there’s a sensitive side to him. That’s why I declare Keiji Akaashi to be a Switch with Sub-leaning tendencies, who’s not afraid to be vocal and would 100% let you peg him. 11/10. Would fuck again.’ Holy shit, this is gold.” 
“Jesus Christ,” Akaashi felt like his entire face was on fire. This was like his worst nightmare come to life, and apparently now everyone on campus could participate in his misery. “This cannot be happening to me…” 
“Oh, me, me, me. Is that really all you can say for yourself? What about [_____], huh? How do you think they’d feel after finding out their boyfriend is an unfaithful—”
“I DIDN’T CHEAT ON MY S/O, BOKUTO-SAN. That isn’t even the purpose of the list, you should know, you’re on it too!” 
Bokuto gaped. “I am??” 
Akaashi groaned, sinking back into his seat. His hands dragged across his face in distress, feeling as if he aged ten years from this mishap alone. But, Bokuto had a point—How were you feeling about all this? Had you seen it?
Luckily, he didn’t need to wonder for long. 
“Keiji!” 
He flinched, as did the two stooges hovering near him. Kenma was the only one to greet you normally while everyone else resembled deer in headlights; this immediately alarmed you. What you expected to be a surprise lunch with your boyfriend since your class let out early, now felt as if you just walked in on an intervention. After taking in the weird atmosphere, you eyed Akaashi with mild confusion. “Uh…is everything okay?”
“It’s all good, [_____]! Turns out my best friend isn’t a scumbag after all. Akaashi is definitely not cheating on you, so no harm done!” 
You did a double-take in bewilderment; didn’t expect that. “O..kay?”
Bokuto looked so proud of his declaration, chest puffed out whilst Kuroo looked like he could barely hold it together. Your boyfriend clearly had seen better days, frown heavy as he glared at his seniors; all he wanted was to eat his goddamn sandwich. 
Eventually, you decided to just take a seat next to him, pulling out your own food while the two former captains began bickering about who knows what. Kenma continued to play his game, happily taking the apple slices you graciously slid over to him as a boost. After you got situated, Akaashi instantly plopped his head right on your shoulder, desiring comfort from the emotional turmoil he just endured. 
You kissed away the stress lines on his forehead before opening up your bento, already having an idea in mind as to what’s gotten him so deflated. But, you spared him any further humiliation—You planned to report that stupid post later anyways. 
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You chilled outside the locker rooms waiting for ATSUMU, upon his request to walk you back to the dorms after practice was over. You told him there was no need, that you’d be fine walking back on your own, but he insisted. 
And you were so glad he did. 
While you were waiting, you mindlessly scrolled on Twitter until a familiar username caught your attention; @/FckIt22. Everyone knew of the infamous ‘Horny Bucket List’ going around and boosting already inflated egos, speculating and even sometimes outing people of their most lewd fantasies with popular guys on campus. You couldn’t help but watch the drama unfold every time there’d be a new update to the list, eating it up whenever it’d be someone you knew, or someone you would’ve never guessed to be on it. 
And to your surprise, after you refreshed the page, it was both. Your mouth was slightly ajar when a picture of your boyfriend’s boyish grin greeted you, in his volleyball jersey, soaked with sweat and hair pushed back from his forehead; looking like a full course meal. 
Eagerly, you tapped in to read the thread attached to the image, intrigued to know what was said about Atsumu until… 
“...The fuck?” 
As quick as your excitement came, there it went. Right there, in big letters for the whole campus, no, the entire internet to see was your boyfriend’s face attached with someone else’s name. And not just any someone. 
‘O S A M U   M I Y A’ 
You didn’t know whether to laugh, or what. Could they’ve seriously not been bothered to make sure they had the right twin? And not only that, they mentioned you in the thread. Didn’t bother to @ you, though.
That only pissed you off even further.
‘Osamu Miya. 6’1ft of muscle and charm, whose insatiable appetite won’t be satisfied until he’s had your thighs wrapped around his face for an hour AT LEAST. Not the most expressive, but make no mistake that he’s the ultimate brat tamer; no doubt [______] could attest to that.’
“I know damn well they didn’t just…” You muttered in disbelief, shaking your head as you read on.
‘But, if you’re good, he mayyyy let you top. Don’t think for a second you’re in control tho. Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for daysss. Doubt this man does anything but grunt and groan, but overall he still gets an 8/10. Yum ♡.’ 
Wow.
You weren’t expecting to see your future brother-in-law painted in this light today, but supposed there was a first for everything. To be fair, whomever ran the account sure knew how to sell a fantasy, but it didn’t excuse the lack of decorum they had. You felt a little disturbed, almost violated. One could only imagine how the twins would feel if they saw this…
“Hey there, stranger.” You jumped slightly at the sudden intrusion; speak of the devil. Atsumu wrapped his arms around your middle from behind, placed his chin on your shoulder, and gave a loving squeeze. “Ya ready?” 
“Uh, yeah.” You quickly locked your phone.
A little too quick. 
A small pout formed on his face. He immediately called you out. “What’re ya lookin’ at?” 
“Hm?”
“Your phone, y’were lookin’ at something.” Noticing your shifty behavior, his grip around you loosened a little as he strained his neck to look you square in the face. It wasn’t long before a teasing grin spread across his. His eyebrows wiggled, “Ya lookin’ at porn?” 
With a roll of your eyes, you lightly jabbed him in his bicep. “Yeah, ‘Tsumu. I was totally looking at porn. You got me.”  
Atsumu shrugged, sporting an even bigger grin as he started to sway both of you. “Hey, no judgement here. But don’t forget ya got the real deal right here, darlin’. Whenever you need it, your lovely boyfriend will take care of ya. All’s ya gotta do is ask.”
He spun you around in his hold, and grabbed your hips. With low, tired eyes he stared deeply into your soul. His lopsided grin brought more damage to your already fluttering heart, not to mention his semi that was now pressed against your stomach; this man had been dying to have you in his arms for a while, it seemed. However, even with this sexual tension growing between the two of you...you just couldn’t help yourself. 
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, Osamu.”
Immediately, his grin dropped. You did your best to remain stoic, but the absolute disgust that took over his face was just too good. Your body began to shake with laughter, small snickers escaping you as you bit your lip to hold it back. Atsumu was not amused.
“That joke wasn’t funny back in high school, [______], still ain’t funny now…”
“Oh, this is no joke. As of today, my boyfriend’s Osamu Miya, and apparently he’s my brat-tamer. Did you know that he won’t even let me top unless I’ve been good-?”
“Knock it off.” Atsumu glared, gently pinching your sides. You squirmed, but the teasing smile you had didn’t falter. “What’s gotten into ya? Tryin’ to get a rise outta me or somethin’?”
“Oh, you haven’t seen it yet?”
“Seen what?”
You unlocked your phone and showed him the thread. Atsumu held a look of utter confusion, squinting at it until it eventually registered what you were showing him. He’d heard about the list that circled around on campus, some of his friends and teammates used to brag, or complain about it to him when they ended up on it. At first, he found it entertaining…but now?
“THE FUCK?”
He snatched the phone out of your hands to get a closer look, catching on to what you’d originally been hiding from him in the beginning; Atsumu wished it had been porn.
“That’s what I said!” You laughed, incredulously. “The nerve of them to just mix the two of you up like that. And to add me into it without even bothering to tag me? Probably ‘cause they knew I’d call them out on their bullshit. Can you believe-”
“‘Unlike his brother, he’s got Dom energy for days’?? I totally have Dom energy! We’re fucking twins, why wouldn’t I? And ‘Samu ain’t no brat-tamer! If anythin’, he’s the goddamn brat.” Somewhere on campus, Osamu sneezed.
You stood there in bewilderment. That’s what he’s concerned about? 
Crossing your arms, you watched him in astonishment. “So, you don’t care that they used your picture? Or the insinuation that I sleep with your brother?”
“‘Course I do! Ya think I like the idea of his filthy mouth being anywhere near you? And usin’ my picture to clickbait my supporters is just cheap. But nothin’ pisses me off more than anyone thinkin’ that bastard has better game than me. 8/10 my ass…”
You snorted. Why were you not surprised?
Taking a small step closer you grabbed his wrist and lowered it, bringing his attention away from the phone. Atsumu now wore a heavy pout, one that you couldn’t help but to kiss; so you did. With a free hand you reaching up to his nape and pulled him downward, capturing his lips. Catching him off guard, man nearly dropped your phone when your tongue slipped into his mouth. With a soft groan, Atsumu wrapped an arm around your waist as he tilted his head in response to your sudden affection, deepening the kiss as it instantly made his mind go blank.
You pulled away too soon for his liking, the blonde blindly chasing after you with his eyes still closed as a light chuckle escaped you. You thumbed at his bottom lip, wiping some of the spit left behind as he slowly opened his eyes. Atsumu’s honey-gaze seared right into you, the hunger from early returning as the semi he sported was now fully hard, thick and heavy as it pressed against your stomach—So fucking whipped, after just one kiss. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Gazing at him lovingly, your nails raked gently through his hair as he practically melted into you. For a moment, you thought he’d start purring.
“What do they know, huh? How about you take me to my dorm and remind me why Atsumu Miya, my lovely boyfriend, is the only one who takes good care of me. Then, we’ll put that account on blast afterwards, what d’you say?”
His boyish grin reappeared, leaning in to place his forehead on yours. “Thought you’d never ask.”
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KENMA felt indifferent about the list. Nothing about it made sense to him, and he left it at that. It didn’t matter how many times his friends brought it up, or how many people whispered about it during lectures—He had no opinion on it. 
“You’re not even a little curious?” Hinata asked.
“No. Not in the slightest.”
The two of them were chilling in the canteen, in the student gaming section, both occupied with their own respective poisons. While Hinata farmed pixelated fruit on his switch, Kenma battled npcs on the public-shared ps4. The copper-head talked on and on about trivial subjects since they’ve arrived, ranging from tough assignments he nearly failed to new moves he tried in volleyball, while the quieter of the two responded occasionally when he felt it necessary. 
Hinata gasped, looking up from his game in genuine surprise. “Whoa, Bakayama said the exact same thing. You and him are probably one of the few guys I know who aren’t interested in knowing if they’re on the list. Well, you two and Suckyshima. And Sakusa-san...and...”
This went on for a good minute. 
Kenma sighed, neutral expression not matching the rapid movement of his thumbs across the controller. “It’s just some dumb list. Not like it benefits anyone.”
“Sure it does! I heard it brought lots of people together,” Hinata paused, tilting his head as he hummed in thought. “Although, I also heard it split people up, too. And caused a lot of rumors…and got that one professor fired…”
Yet another minute, passed. 
Kenma couldn’t help but snort, at least finding his rambling endearing enough to stomach yet another pointless conversation about that accursed list—Why people were so obsessed with it was beyond him. 
“Sounds like a lot of drama. No thanks.”
There’s silence between the two of them, the sound effects from their games being the only thing filling the space. Kenma continued rapidly mashing buttons, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the level. However, he couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched. They were in a public space, sure, but…something definitely felt off. Choosing to ignore it, he refocused on the game. Hinata just finished up harvesting his watermelons when he suddenly let out a teasing chuckle.
“I wonder if [______] checked.”
Kenma’s thumbs stop. His character was taking incredible amounts of damage, but none of it registered after the mere mention of your name; the pudding-head flushed red. After a moment, he regained composure and went back to smashing buttons, ignoring how slippery his hands just got.  
 “…Why would they do that?” He muttered. 
Hinata shrugged, “Well, just because you’re not curious doesn’t mean they aren’t. Believe it or not, you’re a good looking guy, Kenma-san. And if there’s a fuck-list going around where my s/o might end up on it, I’d wanna be the first to know.”
Hm. Couldn’t argue with that. He always feared you’d end up on the list, but eventually realized it only catered to a certain demographic, mostly focused on the more sociable students, so he figured there was no other reason to care. It’d be a waste of time, Kenma knew for a fact there’d be no chance of him being on it, his outward appearance be damned.
He practically spent his first couple of semesters cooped up in his room, going to class, bare minimum socializing, streamed with his camera off, rinsed and repeated. He didn’t make many new friends during that time, and met you completely by happenstance during a late night cram session in the library; how in the fresh hell would anyone think about fucking him if he rarely gave other people the time of day? 
Kenma kissed his teeth, “You’re being annoying.”
Hinata merely flashed a bright grin, leaning over to playfully poke him in the arm. “Don’t mind~!” 
The dirty-blonde playfully swatted at the intruding hand, earning a bright laugh and another poke from the ginger just for shits n’ giggles, before he returned back to his video game. Unfortunately, the eyes around him didn’t falter, some being less obvious about it whilst others didn’t even try to hide their blatant staring. After a while it started to get uncomfortable, even Hinata couldn’t help getting concerned once he started to notice.
“Uh…is it just me, or are we drawing in a crowd?”
“I dunno. Maybe they’re just waiting for me to get off the game…” Kenma reasoned. But deep down, something told him that wasn’t the case at all.
After some time passed with the situation not getting any better, he decided to just call it a night. There was no point in trying to relax anymore with all those people pointing and whispering. As he began to leave the game, not bothering to save his progress, his phone buzzed. Immediately, Kenma knew it had to have been you—He kept everyone else on DND. When he unlocked his phone, though, the gamer was shocked to see the overwhelming amount of notifications on the screen, all from his closest friends, minus the one he’s currently with. 
It appeared they’d been trying to get his attention for a while. You must’ve been the last resort, as your message urged him to meet at your place.  He didn’t need to be told twice, grateful for this escape from the prying eyes of the random bystanders. 
“I’m heading over to [_____]’s. Sorry to cut our time short.” 
The ginger simply smiled. “It’s okay, know you don’t like crowds. See ya later, Kenma-san!” 
Kenma curtly nodded, offering a tiny smile in gratitude. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he made haste for the nearest exit, keeping his gaze locked on the ground until he made it outside. He could feel the eyes following him as he left, making a cold chill run down his spine. He couldn’t wait to get to your place.
When he eventually arrived, his knuckle barely grazed the door before it flew wide open, startling him a little. Before he even had time to catch his jumping heart, you pulled him into your embrace, making him tense up slightly until he soon melted into your familiar warmth. Sanctuary. 
“I’m so sorry, Ken. You must be devastated.” 
“Um, I’m fine...” he mumbled. Your arms only grew a little tighter around him, as if you were…shielding him? Eventually you pulled back just enough to look at him, searching his eyes for something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. “Why would I be devastated?”
You blinked widely at him. “You mean you hadn’t seen it?”
He squinted, visibly confused, and your silence did little to calm his wariness. Another cold chill traveled down his spine, hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up as he struggled to figure out what this feeling meant. It wasn’t until after you gave a strained smile, sympathy swirling within your gaze, did it eventually hit him like a semi truck. The flooded messages, the suffocating stares, the whispers...It couldn’t be. 
He slowly began to shake his head. “No...”
You exhaled. “Yes.”
‘Kenma Kozume. 5′6ft recluse with the mannerisms of a kitten. But don’t let his meek demeanor fool you—it’s always the quiet ones you need to look out for. Though his posture may appear questionable, we all know it’s because of the monster between his legs dragging him down, baggy clothes no doubt concealing an absolute masterpiece of toned skin for you to mark up. The effort he puts into playing video games, don’t expect the same amount in the bedroom. I believe Kenma to be a lazy Switch with Sub energy, who’ll spend most of the session on his back, but that’s okay. We stan a pillow prince. 9/10.’
He looked at your phone with mild disgust. “You’re fucking joking.”
“'fraid not. It was posted less than an hour ago, probably while you were gaming with Hinata. Kuroo was the first to see it, and sent it to the groupchat. That’s why I assumed you had seen it already. Dammit, I knew someone would notice how hot you were sooner or later. And here I thought I was doing a good job gate-keeping you. ”
“Don’t just say stuff like that out loud...” He flushed, tugging on your sleeve in mild embarrassment. After composing himself, Kenma let out an irritated exhale. “What a pain. Whatever, this’ll probably blow over by tomorrow. Someone else will be posted and they’ll forget all about me. Guess I’ll just keep an even lower profile until then. Shouldn’t be too difficult.” 
Laying together on your Snorlax beanbag chair, Kenma turned on his stomach to bury himself in the plush cushion, wanting to forget this whole nightmare. But, you weren’t gonna let him wallow so easily. Tugging on the shoulder part of his sleeve to get his attention, Kenma groaned before tilting his head slightly to peek at you with one eye through the curtain of his hair. 
“You don’t understand, Ken. Bitches practically froth at the mouth for the sexy, socially awkward, gamer-boy type with the messy hair and lax attitude. I would know, I am bitches!” He snickered softly, rolling his visible eye. “My point is, this most definitely will not blow over by tomorrow. Not when they’re already hooked on the fantasy of you.”
“Exactly, a fantasy.” He said, slightly muffled. Shifting to lay on his back, Kenma rested his arms behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. “Meaning they’ll never get to know the real thing, so eventually they’ll get bored. You shouldn’t work yourself up over this, kitten.” 
“Yeah, but what if someone-” 
Reaching over, Kenma gently flicked your forehead. With a soft yelp, you half-heartedly glared at him before going to retaliate with your own flick. He merely grinned, eyes full of mirth as he swiftly grabbed the hand and used it to pull you in closer. “They won’t. And even if they do, I'll just get Kuroo to tell one of his lame jokes to scare ‘em off. Problem solved.” 
You lightly hit his arm, but still graced him with a laugh. Somewhere on campus, said rooster-head sneezed. 
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dancewithdeath11 · 2 months
Text
Say Sorry
Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader
Summary: Jason reminds you nobody is allowed to talk bad about you, including yourself. 
Warnings: 18+ SMUT- (but not really, very self-indulgent) talks of body insecurity (stretchmarks, cellulite (specifically on thighs)), talks of wearing a skirt, mentions of prep & cunnilingus but none, 
Word Count: 1.2k
======
“Fuckin- Stupid- Saying shit like that..”
It was your fault. Entirely. But how would you know what punishment your best friend would come up with?
It started out when you were about to go out. Constantly going from your bathroom to the thrifted full body mirror in the corner of your room. Midway through you trying to figure out what you were going to wear, he showed up. Jason was going to give you a ride. He huffed and sat on your bed when he saw you were still trying to pick an outfit. From there he was commenting on them, trying to help you out so the two of you could get going. 
One of the outfits you picked out had a cute skirt that went to your mid-thigh. It was a pleated, classic plaid pattern with a nice brown color. You were pairing it with a brown sweater as well. Only problem was that you couldn't find any nylons to go with it. “Shit-” Turning to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but focus on your own thighs. Hands tugging at the skirt to try and cover what you were focusing on. But that only made it look awkward causing you to pull it back up. 
“I like that one. Why haven’t I seen you wear that skirt before?” Jason asks as he sits up on the bed, giving you his attention once more. You turned again, looking from the other side. Either way you hated how you could see the cellulite and stretchmarks that patterned your thighs. 
“I hate it. I should’ve stuck with the jeans!” Your head shook back and forth as you went to go to the bathroom again. 
He stood up and stopped you, a firm hand on your upper arm. “Hey- Why do you hate it? It’s a good look, just do your makeup and we can go.” The man chuckled lightly. Looking up at him, you hesitated slightly before shaking your head again. “No..talk to me. What is it?” 
Your eyes rolled as he took your shoulders, clearly not letting you go till he got you to talk to him. Jason was just that kind of friend. He was sweet and tried to help you where he could. A shoulder to lean on, a trusted confidant. “I..My thighs and skirts just don’t go together.” You tried to laugh it off slightly. However, he did not like that. 
“Your thighs are fine.” It was his turn to shake his head, a deep frown pulling on his lips. Looking like he didn’t believe it. Like he heard the most obvious lie spoken to man. 
“No-”
“Why would you say that your thighs and skirts don’t work together? Is there some war between us and skirts I’m not aware of?” He joked slightly, head ducking down to catch your gaze as you looked away. It melted your heart a little at the way he said us. A frustrated huff left your pouted lips as you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“It’s- You can see my stretch marks, and my cellulite, it’s just not a good look.” You once more tried to brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But now his face hardened, an almost angry frown on his face and brows furrowed.
“Don’t say that.” He said, his voice stern as ever. This tone is unfamiliar to you, but even then you wanted to argue back, opening your mouth to do so. But he knew you well enough to not let you get away with that. “Don’t.” That was all he muttered as he took you by the hips and turned you, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re so blind, I swear, ma.” He grumbled under his breath as he made you sit on your bed. 
But what started as a stern lecture from your best friend, quickly turned into more.
The evidence being the bites and hickeys on the insides of your thighs from when he ate you out till you couldn’t take it anymore. Slick coating them from when prepped you with his thick and long fingers. The pads of his fingers calloused from years of abuse, training, and killing. His grip on your thighs alone was enough to remind you what he was capable of. There would probably be bruises tomorrow. 
“Fuck-” Was all you could hiccup as he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. Finally fucking his entire length into you making you feel impossibly full. If you thought he was big before, this was a whole new definition. 
Jason was a brick wall of a man. That was clear. Tall and broad, biceps that looked bigger than your head. But now you know, he was big in other places too. No wonder he was so attentive with prep, but even now it was still a lot.
He was kissing and licking along your tits as he scolded you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. Your back arched as he hugged you around your waist and held you close to reach your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whined to him, trying your best to watch him past his dark curls. 
He lowered you back onto the covers. Sitting back on his hutches as he watched you with hooded eyes that skated along your hickey littered skin. The same look you’d see when he’d read poetry or admire art. Large hands gently skating up your sides. Thumbs coming to rest just under the swell of your tits, fingers splaying out across your ribs. “Real stupid..” He comes back down and nips at the sensitive skin. Pressing a final kiss there before coming face to face with you. Resting on his elbows on either side of your head as he hovered over you, hiding you from the coldness of your own bedroom. He pressed a feather light kiss to your lips before staying there. Whispering against them, “Say you're sorry. Say you’re sorry for sayin’ something so stupid about my girl.”
God, his eyes were really intense. The way he was staring at you alone was enough to make your face flush more than it already was. 
“S-Sorry..” You whispered out weakly between shallow breaths. He chuckled slightly and nodded in approval, pulling out the slightest bit before stuffing himself back in. Your breathing stuttered as your hands searched desperately for something to grip, quickly latching onto his back. “Jay-”
“I know, ma...” He cooed softly as he sat up again, pulling you along with him. Your thighs draped over his leaving you pliant for him. Hugging around your middle once more as he thrusted slightly, pulling your back down onto him. Quickly you hugged around his shoulders not wanting to fall back. His lips pecked your jawline quickly before he locked you into a kiss. It was messy, uncoordinated and searing. Teeth clashing, heavy breathing and moans shared between the two of you. “God.. S’pretty for me, Princess..” He whispered against your lips as you pant softly. 
It was slow but hard. The push and pull, feeling the drag of his dick deep inside you. 
You’d never doubt your best friend again…
======
Sorry, just another thing i wanted to clear out of my drafts ;)
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pbsugarbaby · 6 months
Note
because i believe in tribbing supremacy what if ellie asked you 2.. bounce on her clit?? cause like. ellie asking me to bounce on her strap? hot. but grinding rough enough and correctly enough to make it seem like ur bouncing on her clit?? nggh... would get so pussydrunk and sloppy with her words, eyes rolling back to read the entire savage starlight series stamped in the back of her head.
oh my god ur literally too good???? im not the best at visualizing so shoot me if i write this wrong.
ellie’s back fell against the mattress, auburn hair sprawling out over the pillow. she had been needy all day. hands everywhere, the inside of ur thigh, ur hip, the small of ur back. her lips also everywhere, ur neck, cheeks, lips, shoulders, head. u could tell she wanted it, and she wanted it bad.
”touchin’ me in front of all those people…? god, ellie… so fucking needy.” u dip ur head down and suck on her neck, a gasp emerging from her throat. biting and licking the soft skin, moving ur mouth lower on her body, teeth catching her tits.
that was her sensitive spot, those soft perky tits. ur teeth latched on to the nipple, swirling ur tongue around the pink skin, hand kneading the other breast. ellie biting back a moan of pleasure. “oh, fuck..” u left a mark on her tit before moving to the next one, making sure to leave another small mark, just to remind her in the morning.
u lifted back up ur face, peeling off her boxers with ur manicured nails, the ones she paid for of course. a string of arousal stuck to the fabric, a proud smile growing on ur lips. then u slipped off the tiny black laced thong from ur legs, the amount of fabric was small, close to being a thread.
ellie’s breath hitches when u put ur hands behind ur back, fiddling with the clasp of ur bra before it releases, a tiny sigh falling from ur lips when u throw the bra somewhere in the room. her hands instantly fly up to ur tits, kneading and sucking on them when she sits up, softly moaning. “s-sooooo fuckin’ hot..” she slurs with her words before falling back onto the mattress, fingertips grazing ur waist.
then u shift slightly, feeling ur pussy graze against her clit. sure, she loved when u bounced on her strap and the harness grazed against her, or when u guys rubbed clits yk, but this felt so good. and u looked so fucking good.
“b-bounce on it….?”
u furrowed ur brows at ur girlfriend, not truly understanding what she wanted. she sounded unsure herself. “what’s that, ellie?” a questioning smile formed on ur lips as u tilted ur head.
“ple-please, baby— nghh… bounce on m-my clit, please…” ellie pouted, feeling slightly embarrassed by her question. u grinned, rolling ur hips on her skin softly. “like that?”
ellie’s green eyes were dark and full of lust, back arching ever so slightly and small groans bubbling from her throat when u grind and bounce ur wetness on her clit. “ohmy— fuck yes, ju-jus like that.”
u chuckled and continued to grind down on her, the girls back arching and eyes rolling to the back of her head, broken moans and whimpers slipping from her lips. “sh-shit bab…… sooo fuhckin’ goo…d!” u started to feel the sensation from this too, now bouncing slightly on her clit while roughly rubbing urself onto her.
it pulled on her clit perfectly, she was babbling some random words u couldn’t even make out. she pictured u jumping on her dick, tits bouncing with ur head thrown back while u moaned.
”fuhhhhck! god da-damn, shiiiii….” ellie was embarrassed on how close she was, knot building up in her stomach just from this little action. she guided ur movements by grabbing ur hips and making u grind deeply on her, bouncing u aggressively on her clit. “fuck, ellie!” u whimpered from the unexpected guidance.
she bit down on her lip, eyes rolling to the back of her head, she could probably see all those fucking dad jokes back there. ellie’s body trembled slightly as her back arched. “shitshitshit! didn—didn’t expect it to feel this fuhckin’ goo-good…! oh my goddddd.. keep goin’ pleasepleaseplease..” u never planned on stopping. ellie’s whimpers and pornographic like moans making u even more eager.
u realized the familiar twitching and trembling in her body. “gon’ cum, els?” u moan breathlessly, continuing to bounce and grind on her pussy when one of her hands leave ur hips and grip onto the sheets beneath her. “yesyesyes! gonna—gh!”
“cmon, cum with me baby, fuck!” u yell out, head falling back. “i’m-shiiiittttt…. cu— fuhckin’ —cummin’! sogoodohmygo-!”
ur girlfriends green eyes roll back to her head, back arching off the bed as her lower stomach and clit twitches with pleasure as she babbles and lets out broken cries. did it even feel that good? or was she just so drunk on ur pussy that it made the sensation 20x better. u came just at the same time, ur own cum dripping down onto her folds.
“my god ellie…” u breathlessly speak, watching her come down from her orgasm, back falling against the sheets, hand covering her face as she breathes heavily.
“i have the best ideas, huh?”
this was rushed and u can tell but i tried!!💋💋
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dearly-somber · 3 months
Text
hyunga’s sleeping | l.mh
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-> pairing. idol!minho x non-idol!reader (f)
-> genre. Established relationship, domestic fluff.
-> rating. 13+
-> w/c. 1101
-> warnings. None!
-> a/n. This was fueled by pure, unadulterated Minho & Soon-Doong-Dori (SDD) brainrot.
-> skz drabble, oneshot & series m.list
-> started. Feb. 23rd, 2024 @ 16:51
-> fin. Fri., Mar. 1st, 2024 @ 19:40
-> edited. Sat. Mar. 2nd, 2024 @ 15:40
-> divider credit. @plum98
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“Eomoni!”
“Y/N, darling, come in!”
Minho’s mom wraps her arms around your shoulders, pulling you inside with a big smile on her face. She waves you off as you slip out of your shoes and into a pair of bright pink Hello Kitty slippers Minho bought for you as a joke years ago, forcefully prying the bag of goodies you bought on your way here from your fingers.
“I hope I’m not intruding—?”
“Hush!” Mrs. Lee chides with a smile, “Stop worrying so much.” Her hand hovers by the small of your back, guiding you up the last step into the living room.
“Is Minho here? He said he was coming home today…”
“Yes, he’s here. He’s in his room.” Minho’s mom sets the plastic bag on the counter, and you naturally go to help her unpack what you bought, shelving things like you live here.
“I—hello, abeonim.” You bow at Mr. Lee, closing your eyes contentedly when he comes around the counter to give you a fatherly side-hug that squishes you against him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, ruffling your hair as he lets you go in favor of helping his wife unpack.
You shrug, walking around to the other side of the counter. “Thought I’d pop in to say hi. I missed the kittens very much.”
Mr. Lee laughs, shaking his head at you. “Of course, the kittens.” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly.
You can’t help the grin tugging at your mouth, clearing your throat to speak. “Speaking of, where are the babies? I haven’t seen any of them since I got here.”
“Last time I checked they were all with Minho in his room,” his mom says, putting away the bottle of red wine you bought for dinner later tonight.
“Great! I can kill two birds with one stone.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
She snickers at you, shooing you away with a fond smile. “Go say hi and then come sit with us—we found a documentary we thought you’d like.”
“Okay, eomoni.” You smile at her and hope your pure love and adoration for her isn’t written too clearly on your face, afraid she might tease you. You walk with light steps in the direction of Minho’s room, unable to wipe the smile off your face.
“Minho-ssi,” you sing-song, rounding the corner with a light and airy step-a-step you’re pretty sure you saw somewhere in Thunderous’s choreography.
Mreow?
“Doong-Doong-ah?” Your lips jut out in a surprised pout, looking down at the talkative orange tabby with a tiny furrow in your brow. Following the lump of white sheets behind him, you finally make out Minho’s all-black clad body hidden under all the fluff.
You smile.
“Is hyunga sleeping?” you whisper, walking over on the tips of your toes before crouching in front of Doongie, scratching behind his ears with a soft smile. He mrews, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans his head into your hand. To your right, Dori hugs what you think is a bottle of lotion between his white socked-paws, his tail flicking with each nibble he delivers to the hard plastic.
You let your hand wander over Dori’s side and chide him with a half-hearted hiss when he clamps his teeth around your knuckles, shaking it off with a smile when he pauses a second before giving your hand a couple of licks.
You give his side one last pat before walking around Minho’s feet, only noticing Soonie as he’s cuddling into your boyfriend’s duveted stomach.
You can’t stop the smile tugging at your lips, crouching next to the sleeping cats to card your fingers through Soonie’s fur, feeling a familiar sense of pride swell in your chest at his appreciative purr.
And then you’re looking up at Lee Minho, your body tingling all over at the serenity on your sleeping beauty’s face, unable to help but reach out and let your hand run over his hair; a little frizzy at the ends but otherwise straight; he must not have been sleeping for very long.
You drag your hand over Minho’s head with an inexplicable softness constricting your throat, wishing you could lean down and kiss him without running the risk of waking him up.
You jump a little when Minho lets out an adorable grunt as he slowly pries his eyes open.
“Jagi?” he mumbles.
“Did I wake you?” you coo, combing your fingers through his fringe.
“Mmm.”
You chuckle, letting the pads of your fingers brush over his forehead, over his eyelids. “Ever the truthman.”
“Truthman?” he grumbles, bringing a hand up to loosely hold your wrist between his fingers.
“When did you get home?” You let your hand wander over his cheek.
“A few hours ago…”
“From practice?”
He guides the palm of your hand against his lips. “Mmm...”
He kisses your hand, turning onto his back (much to Soonie’s dismay) and throwing the duvet around his hips before tugging on your arm with surprising strength.
You yelp, practically falling on top of him. He lets out a back-of-the-throat kind of giggle that sends tingles down your arms, using his hands on your hips to shift you higher up his abdomen.
Minho lets out a satisfied hum-sigh against the top of your head, his fingers massaging the skin at your waist before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your trousers, letting the elastic keep his hands in place.
“Baby,” you say, softly—knowing his parents are waiting for you downstairs but feeling so tempted to sink into his warmth and stay there until the end of days.
“No,” he huffs, nuzzling your temple. “Lay with me for a bit.”
You can’t help but laugh, subtly shaking your head. Of course he knows. “Okay, but only for a minute. Your mom invited me downstairs to watch a—“
“Shh, jagi, I’m trying to sleep.”
———
“Y/N, sweetheart, we’re—“
Mrs. Lee stops in her tracks, right outside Minho’s room. The sight she comes across brings an immediate smile to her face, and she can’t help but take her phone out and snap a picture to give to her son later:
Minho, his arms wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, legs intertwined. And surrounding you, Soonie, Doongie and Dori; the youngest of the trio laying by his hyung’s head. Doongie lays by your feet, and Soonie sleeps just off to the side, his legs stretched out in front of him.
As she sits back down with her husband, Mrs. Lee can’t help but think: she can’t wait for the day Minho asks for her mother’s ring.
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nezuscribe · 11 months
Text
(nsfw, 18+)
toji stared at you, green eyes set it a deep glare as he gnawed on his lip. he was used to knowing things, he actually kind of prided himself in the fact that he was always three steps ahead of usually anybody. 
but today, he wasn’t. today he had somehow stumbled, and staring at the back of your head, was trying to figure out what went wrong. 
you had only spared him a glance when he walked in, unlike your usual bouncy self, greeting him with a kiss as your arms snaked around his shoulder, lips tugging upward into a radiant smile as he felt the stress of the day melt off his body. 
today, none of that happened. 
he walked in, staring at the way you were bundled up in a blanket, watching your favorite show as you pretend he didn’t exist (he knew he took up a lot of space, so he knew that you were bluffing on that part). you didn’t say anything, radio silent as the show hummed along in the background. 
“hey sweetheart,” he called out, waiting for you to turn around, “how’s you’re day been goin’?”
he set his bag down, running a hand through his tousled hair as he looked over the city, (he liked it this way, it normally calmed him down), but without your boisterous voice filling the space of the penthouse he quickly realized just how dull it was. 
“hungry?” he asked as he began to shed off his coat by the door, setting his briefcase down gently as though not the make a sound. 
obviously it didn’t do much because you didn’t answer him, still watching your show. 
“was thinkin’ about ordering some takeout,” he grumbled, now just saying anything to get a response from you, “how does that sound?” 
still, nothing.
he sighed, glancing at you and then to the hall, moving alongside furniture, the room almost becoming a maze as though to stop hm from reaching you, not letting his mind run until he was able to get a full understanding of the situation. 
he maneuvered around the large couch, your eyes never faltering to acknowledge his presence as he moved in closer to you, towering above you as he placed a hand on the cushion behind your head, the other on his hip as he cocked a brow. 
“did i miss something?” 
you swallowed, not trying to give any emotion away as you sat still, almost like a statue, a part of you hoping he’d move on after a couple seconds of trying. 
but he didn’t, he was persistent like that. 
he sank down to his knees, a sight a part of you would always swoon at despite your obvious annoyance towards him, and jutted your chin out, lips slightly pouting despite his large hands running up and down your legs, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he tried to figure you out. 
“is this about what happened with that assistant?” 
with the way your breathing hitched ever so slightly, he assumed he guessed right. 
“sweetheart,” he started, his hands moving up to your knees but you roughly moved your legs away, curling them up into the sofa as you still refused to look at him, “you know she’s trying to make you feel like this. fired her right after you left baby. ” his voice had dropped lower, seriousness flooding his tone so that you know he’s not joking around anymore.
a part of you gleamed at his words, happy to have the bitch gone. and you know he’s right, know that the pesky assistant that kept calling him her work-husband was only trying to get a reaction out of you. but now she did and you were petty and couldn’t find it in you to care.
“c’mon sweetheart, no need to be jealous,” he pushed, his hands finding their way back on your legs as his green eye glimmered with a sort of mischievous light, “know you’re the only one for me.” 
his fingers danced on your thighs, squeezing the flesh as he was determined to get something out of you. he decided that he didn’t seem to mind all that much if it weren’t words. 
his slender fingers tugged at the hem of your sleep short, and a part of you wanted to squeeze your legs together and leave, but you couldn’t, just pushing your head deeper into the cushion behind you as you pretended his movements weren’t sending heat straight to your core. 
you didn’t even fight him as he pulled the shorts all the way down, his breathing hitching in his throat when he realized you weren’t even wearing pantie, greeted with the sight of you bare pussy as he grinned slyly. 
“did you want me to resort to this, hm?” he asked, nudging your legs to open with his head, grinning when you huffed, your tits rising in your tank top as you crossed your arms over your chest. 
“fuck sweetheart,” he nudged a finger closer to your cunt, groaning at just how wet you were, “this turning you on?” 
yes, it was, you wanted to say and admit it, but not yet. not now. 
his pushed his finger in deeper, reaching that part in you that you never could, hooking it in the way you liked as his thumb found your clit, applying pressure as he swirled it around in an eight pattern, watching with his devil as your head turned to the other side, lips pressed in a thin line as your eyes welded shut. 
“my pretty girl should know by now that only i fuck her like this, right? that i can’t have anybody after i’ve had her?” and it wasn’t a question because you already knew the answer, but he relented, shoving in another angry finger as they easily slid in and out of you. 
your pretty lips fell open as you whined, your nails gripping his hair as you pulled him closer to your cunt, and though he was a bit annoyed at the fact that you still hadn’t made a sound, he knew just what to do. 
he moved his fingers away from your pussy, a smirk growing on his ace when he heard you whine, but instantly replaced them with his mouth, beginning to eat you out as if you were a meal he’s been craving forever. 
he ate you like a man starved, his tongue licking and sucking at your clit, pumping in and out of you in way his fingers never could. he knew your cunt better than you did, and if he wanted you to come in under three minutes he was going to have his way.
the sounds that bounced off the high walls were so sinful that you felt heat crawl up your neck and to your checks, sweat dotting your forehead as you grasped onto his hair as if your life depended on it.
“mmmm, ‘s too much, toji!” you moaned, your pretty lips falling into an o shape as toji looked up from your pussy, the scar on his lip rising as he smiled.
“my baby found her words?” and before you could nod he went back in, sucking at you clot as you moaned out pathetically again.
on any other day you might have tried to at least hold out for a little bit, but you’ve been missing him since this afternoon, horny and needy for him, that you couldn’t stop your toes from curling, your stomach from clenching as you felt your release creeping up on you. 
“come on baby, i know you’re close, let go for me.” he ordered, gripping your thigh so hard you knew he was gonna leave bruises in his wake.
“toji, toji, fuck, i’m...!” you whined out loud, throwing your head back as your muscles clenched down, your pussy spasming around nothing as he pulled away, feeling your essence coating his tongue and his chin as you came, your hands grasping his hair, his shoulders, the cushions, anything you could find. 
your chest heaved as you struggled to calm down, peeking at him from the corner of you eye in an embarrassed way as he only chuckled, slapping your thigh gently as he stood up.
“hi baby,” he greeted, grasping your chin between his two fingers.
“hi toji,” you muttered weakly and he smiled, missing your voice so much that he never realized how much he needed to hear it. 
“feel like talking now?” he asked and you meekly nodded, letting him slip a finger into your mouth as you sucked around it, not feeling that pettiness you were feeling only minutes ago. 
“good, ‘cause i need to hear you scream tonight.” 
you could be bratty when you wanted to be, but toji knew just the counter measures against it.
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luveline · 3 months
Note
Hi honey! I hope you’re taking care of yourself ❤️ I love love LOVE how you write! Can I please request bombshell reader x Spencer telling the team she’s pregnant 💕
thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k
“Spencer?” 
Your quiet tone has his attention faster than any shouting would’ve; he expects high energy from you, and your murmur scares him half to death. He backtracks from the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his fingers as he yanks it out and asks, “What?” 
“Is this okay?” 
You chew your lip and turn to the side, illuminating your problem with a hand framed under your tummy. Your skin peeks out from the bottom of your shirt. 
The wonder of you is that you’ve always been beautiful, always, in Spencer’s eyes at least if not the entire world’s, because of how you present yourself, and of course because of your big heart. Your smile, the way you talk, all of it is beautiful and, most of the time, measured. Your clothes are carefully picked, and now you’re changing and your clothes need to change with it —your bump has appeared faster than Spencer realised it would, and you haven’t had time to upgrade your wardrobe. The cases are endless and you’d been more interested in doctor’s appointments and house viewings than clothes shopping.  
“What’s wrong?” he asks, perhaps a bit useless, white frothy paste sliding down his chin. 
You smile momentarily, nervous on your feet as you adjust your shirt. “I think I look very pregnant.” 
Spencer goes back into the bathroom to finish brushing.  “You look mildly pregnant,” he agrees loudly over the rush faucet. He spits, wipes his face, and rinses his toothbrush. 
“Compared to my usual non-pregnant look, I mean,” you say. 
“It’s just that shirt’s a little tight,” he promises. “We’ll find something.” 
You probably aren’t going to find something, you both realise. You stand in front of him in one of your soft bralettes, the ‘S’ of your pendant on your rising chest, shirtless and likely to stay that way. “Oh,” he says, tapping your bump gently with his knuckle. “Maybe it got bigger overnight.” 
“I think so,” you agree, taking his hand where it hovers to press to the top of the slope of the bump. You’re holding his hand more than you’re protecting the bump, a perplexed frown on your lips as you kneed his fingers in yours. 
“We don’t have time to go to the store, but we could be late,” he says. 
“What if we have a case?” 
“That’s a better reason to go shopping.” 
You pout for a kiss, leaning up to press your lips to his wry smile. “No. Do you still have that maroon sweater? The one that didn’t fit you right, with the v-neck?” 
Spencer helps you into said sweater though you don’t need his assistance, smoothing down the wrinkles carefully. It hides the too-short hem of your white shirt underneath, and paired with the collar, Spencer couldn’t be more in love with you. “You’re dressed like me five years ago,” he says. 
“Like it?” you flirt, your cheeks apples with your smug smile, your hands under your chin.
“You really are glowing.” 
“Don’t tempt me into kissing you stupid,” you say, still flirting, voice dipping into that warm, sweet place that probably caused the bump between you in the first place. 
“You’re lucky I don’t kiss you stupid,” he jokes, putting an arm around you for a quick hug. “Too bad we need to work to save to buy a stupid house instead.” 
“Have a stupid baby,” you mumble happily, your face pressed to his chest. He kisses your cheek. 
You’re both in incredible moods when you finally make it to work, tethered together from the parking lot to the elevator to the BAU office. There’s been a lot more hand holding since you found out you were pregnant, though you’re trying to keep it private just a little bit longer. Hotch gets antsy about pregnant people in the field (though he’d never force you to stay home), and the others can tend to be overbearing. 
You are excited to tell them. Spencer’s your family, the team is as good as, and they’ll all be so, so happy for you. At first you’d been waiting for the twelve week milestone for practicality’s sake, but now you’re just waiting for the right time. 
“Clothes get lost in the move?” Morgan asks. 
You aren’t telling them about the pregnancy, but you’re honest about other things. They know you’ve moved in with Spencer, and that you’re looking for a house. Morgan would’ve been offended if you hadn’t told him. He’d offered up a bunch of his properties to you both for viewing and promised a very good family and friends price point, but they hadn’t been perfect enough. It’s just a starter house, he’d argued, mostly unoffended at your pickiness. 
He doesn’t realise that you and Spencer wanna raise a baby, and you want as perfect a home as possible for at least the toddler years before you start looking to move up the ladder. A family home. 
“Very funny,” you praise, letting Spencer pull back your chair for you as you sit down. You feel the new extra roundness of your bump and wonder why nobody else has noticed it either. Spencer certainly can’t stop looking at it. You catch him all the time, and at night, alone and in bed, you let him run his hand up and down the hill of it, clearly amazed. 
“It looks good on you, mama,” Morgan says. 
You laugh. “Doesn’t everything?” you ask with an exaggerated smirk. 
“Yes,” Spencer says. 
You dip your head back in your chair. “This is why I love you.” 
“Devotion,” Spencer guesses, wiping at a smudge of makeup under your eye tenderly. 
You put your hand on your stomach. It’s weird how things change and don’t at the same time. You feel like you love him so much more now you’re a family with him, but you loved him endlessly before. Moments like this were plentiful and warm as sunshine, the undulating care in his touch a practised exercise at this point. You let your eyes close. He strokes your cheek. 
“Hotch wants everyone in the conference room,” JJ says, announcing herself and her towering cup of coffee as she breezes past the bullpen. 
You follow her upstairs to the conference room. Rossi, Hotch and Penelope are already waiting, everyone accompanied by their own creature comfort (coffee, coffee, and tea, respectfully). You and Spencer take seats opposite Hotch and Rossi, hands held together as always, his left in your right, his thumb kind against your knuckles. 
“The jet is still pre-loading from last time, so we can’t leave until late tonight, but we will be leaving,” Hotch begins, nodding at Penelope. “Until then, we’ll work the case from here.”
She nods back and clicks onto some severely disgusting photographs. 
You work through the facts together. Emily arrives late with apologies soon forgiven, your team a well-oiled machine. Of course, without being there, there’s only so much you can do, but it’s never not useful to have these discussions and to spitball with one another. 
Spencer gets stuck in his head. You fight the urge to kiss his cheek as he’d kissed yours this morning and decide on a more work appropriate show of affection, popping down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of coffee. 
You aren’t drinking coffee or anything caffeinated for the baby. You aren’t thirsty, but Spencer will worry if you don’t make yourself a drink too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and make your way back up the steps to the conference room. 
“It looks like there’s a racial motivation,” Spencer’s saying to Morgan. 
“Sure, but with only two victims so far, it could be coincidence,” Emily says. 
“Or not,” JJ says with a frown. 
“I think our killer would show it more, if it were,” you suggest, “there’s usually some aspect of overkill with hate crimes we aren’t seeing here.” 
You put the cup of coffee down in front of Spencer and sit in your chair. The sleeves on his sweater are too long. You push them up for the tenth time. 
“That’s Spencer’s?” Emily asks, having noticed your struggle.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been sort of scatterbrained, I forgot to put a load in the dryer.” 
“Is your go bag ready?” Hotch asks. 
No. “Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t like my new look?” 
“I’ve never known you to wear clothes that don’t fit,” Morgan says.
“What are you trying to say, Derek?” you ask, propping your face in your chin. 
“You’re getting sloppy in your old age.” 
You turn to Spencer, beaming, and he shakes his head at you immediately. 
“And what’s with the water?”
Your smiling turns deer-in-the-headlights. “What?” 
“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Morgan prompts. 
That piques the interest of Emily and Hotch simultaneously, but you know you’re caught when realisation colours JJ’s gaze. She stares straight at your glass, then your face. You can practically see her profiling your behaviour these last few weeks, the sudden trips to the bathroom, the worse than usual reluctance to be away from Spencer, and the sudden propensity for safer practice in the field. 
You smile. You’re caught. You see Hotch’s expression and know he knows it, too. 
You give Spencer a little nudge with your thigh, as though telling him, You say it. You know he wants to. 
“You can’t have more than three hundred milligrams of caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Spencer says, his pride unmissable in the slight lift of his chin, “it disrupts midterm foetal growth. Our baby might come out too small, which isn’t what we want, obviously, so she can’t drink coffee. Not for another six months, at least.” 
“Wha– wha– what?” Penelope asks, the physical manifestation of a kettle about to boil over, excitement bubbling and raring to explode as she grips the table. “You’re pregnant?” 
“With Spencer?” Emily asks, though she’s laughing before she’s finished. 
You frame his cheek with one hand and lean in to kiss it gently. “Who else?” you ask. 
The best part is watching everybody hug Spencer. You’re happy they love you and you accept their congratulations and their love with pleasure, but seeing a room full of people thrilled for him finally getting the life he’s wanted, and knowing you’re at least part of the reason, is pretty sweet. You put your hand on your baby bump and take a mental picture of him under Morgan’s arm, his cheeks pink, his smile achingly wide. 
Still, he cuts through his moment to reach for you. “Maybe someone else will be able to convince you to slow down,” he says, hand moving to your stomach protectively. 
You pretend to think it over. “Maybe in a month or two.” 
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