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#-lead me back to the same place and it happens over and over until i die
kittenfangirl20 · 12 hours
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*back in Eden Eve saw an angel and a woman by the tree bearing the Forbidden Fruit, she walked over and both smiled at her, the angel had a kind smile, but the woman’s smile seemed cold*
Eve: Hello, you must be new here, but the tree bears Forbidden Fruit. I was told by my husband that eating that fruit will bring evil to this paradise.
The Woman: You must be Eve, I am Lilith and this is my husband Lucifer.
*Eve was frozen with fear, Adam told her about Lilith, a cruel woman who takes joy in causing pain and she looked at Lucifer who was Adam’s first love until Lilith stole him, she wanted to grab Lucifer and demand to know why he couldn’t see the cruelty in the woman, Lucifer walked over to Eve and gently took her hands*
Lucifer: The fruit is not evil, it will give you knowledge which is a good thing, your eyes will be opened to all the possibilities that life has to offer.
*Lucifer leads her to the tree and plucks an apple from the tree, it was a much brighter red than a typical apple and it seemed to glow, he then placed the apple into her hand*
Lilith: You just need to take one bite and everything will change for you.
*Eve nervously lifted the apple and took a bite, it was so sweet like honey, but when she swallowed it she felt unbearable pain in her head she saw so much that humanity had to offer, both good and evil, she screamed wishing the pain would go away, when the pain faded she was horrified to realize that she was naked and that she would now be thrown out of Eden, away from Adam, the thought made her cry as she tried to cover herself up with her hands, Lilith walked over and had a look of mock concern on her face*
Lilith: Don’t cry, you are free from that hideous creature, come with us.
*Lilith then kissed Eve the way that Adam would kiss her and while she had no problem with the idea of two people of the same gender kissing, she was horrified by the fact that it was Lilith kissing her and grabbing at her body, Adam heard Eve’s screams and ran to her, he felt anger at seeing Lilith treating Eve like this when she was so scared*
Adam: Let go of her!!!!!!!
*Lilith pulled away and Eve ran to hide behind Adam as she shook like a leaf*
Adam: What happened?
Lucifer: Adam, we gave her knowledge.
Lilith: Now she must leave with us because Eve would be seen as corrupted, don’t worry I am sure that you will get a third wife.
*Adam looked down at the Forbidden Fruit lying by his foot with a bite taken out it, he didn’t want a third wife, he wanted Eve and they were trying to take her away from him, he couldn’t lose someone he loved again, he knelt down and grabbed the Forbidden Fruit and turned it so that side that didn’t have a bite taken out of it was facing him, he pressed his lips against it almost as if he was going to kiss it while Lilith and Lucifer looked on in shock, he then took a bite and swallowed it, he then fell to the ground screaming, Eve held onto him as he screamed, Lucifer wanted to run to Adam, but Lilith held him back, when the pain faded he felt so exposed being naked and started to curl up in a ball as a way to hide his nudity, Eve held onto him as they both trembled in fear*
Eve: How could you, we were so happy and you ruined everything. You have your freedom, you could have just left us alone in paradise.
*Eve then turns her glare at Lucifer*
Eve: Adam said only kind things about you, but you helped that serpent hurt him, don’t you feel any regret? He ate the Forbidden Fruit because he didn’t want to lose me like he lost you.
*Lucifer didn’t know what Eve meant by this, but then God and the angels arrived, Eve knowing that they would be punished took the blame by saying she tempted Adam even if it meant she would suffer in childbirth, both Adam and Eve were made to leave, in an act of kindness God gave them clothes and Michael handed a very distraught Adam his sword of angelic steel, Lucifer and Lilith were then condemned to live in Hell where they would only see wickedness and Lilith would never bear a living child of her own, Lilith clung to Lucifer as the ground opened beneath them, Lucifer was shocked when Adam reached out and grabbed Lucifer’s hand, but as he fell and was unable to fly, his hand slipped out of Adam’s*
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aluka · 2 years
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reblogging things to escape the torture
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menderash · 7 months
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did you guys know that the mother fucking UN's humanitarian and legal experts have been saying israel's occupation of palestine territories is and has always been illegal, as it violates the FUCKING GENEVA CONVENTION? did you know it was britain that 'gave' the land that wasn't theirs to give to found the state of israel as a tactic to get more jews to join the british army in their already-active war against the ottoman empire? did you know that just between 2008 and 2022 the idf killed almost SEVEN THOUSAND palestinians, as opposed to the 308 israelis by palestinians in the same time period? did you know that israel itself admits to 'forcefully evacuating' palestinians from their homes over the course of their annexation of the country? did you know the british army helped them? did you know that any palestinian who didn't want to have their house taken from them and given to american immigrants being shipped in to populate britain's pet project was killed on their spot? did you know that back in 2018 palestinians did nothing but MARCH in protest of their occupation and in response, the idf is CONFIRMED to have killed almost 400 of them, including FIFTY FIVE CHILDREN? did you know palestinians are not allowed to build anything on the land they have left? did you know they aren't ALLOWED TO LEAVE?? did you know over HALF of christian evangelicals support israel solely because the bible says israel has to exist in order to bring about the second coming? did you know that in 2021, over 88% of us congress were evangelical christians? did you know israel is confirmed to have knowingly bombed palestinian hospitals and the idf had been caught targeting journalists? did you know israel is committing another war crime at this very moment by dropping white phosphorus on gaza civilians? did you know the israeli press was just confirmed to have completely fabricated an account of palestinian war crime right after their own got caught on film? did you know the defense minister of israel openly called all palestinians 'animals' to justify the deaths of their civilians? did you know holocaust survivors are presently speaking out against the israeli state's ethnic cleansing of arabs?
why, in the united states, is criticizing a settler colony's active attempts at extermination labeled antisemitic because of the religion the settlers happen to practice, but rooting for the complete eradication of a muslim country that was already there and is barely still there not islamophobia?? why is religion being used as a shield to justify genocide?
when a sudden act of politically charged violence occurs, like the hamas attack a few days ago, i ask WHY? i ask WHY until i get as far back as i can. i read accounts written by all sides. i try to find out why this is happening in the first place. half of these facts have come from the israeli government itself. all of them are easily found and easily confirmed by reputable sources. a lot of them are caught on film. all of these facts lead me to know that the state of israel was created by britain in order to gain an advantage in an unrelated war. i know the state of israel has caused unimaginable harm to the country it's slowly eating, and has suffered just a fraction in return. i know religion justifies none of it.
palestinians deserve to live in their own country. palestinians deserve to not be forced to give their homes to americans. palestinians deserve to live, to leave, to stay, to wave their own fucking flag. they do not deserve to have another country plopped on top of them and then have their settlers ask 'don't WE have a right to exist?' as their own right to exist is being extinguished.
fuck the idf, fuck israel, fuck manifest destiny, fuck all settlers who think they deserve someone else's home enough to kick them out of it. literally, in israel's case. indigenous americans, indigenous canadians, chicanos, pacific islanders, filipinos, mestizos, we should all be standing with palestine, because we KNOW how colonial violence goes and what it looks like. solidarity between all colonised peoples. free palestine.
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gutsby · 18 days
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Ruined!
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Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.
Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.
Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.
Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse
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Surely he was hurting you now.
Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.
At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.
He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.
Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:
“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”
Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.
Crying, too.
Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.
“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”
Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.
Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.
Almost.
He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.
Almost.
“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”
And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.
“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.
Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.
Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.
He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.
“SON OF A—”
“—good girl.”
You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.
“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.
“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.
“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”
Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.
“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.
Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,
“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”
You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.
“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”
Probably forever.
“Good.”
You knew he liked it that way.
You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.
First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.
“Shit,” you whimpered.
Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.
“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.
Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.
“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.
His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.
And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.
“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”
It was.
More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.
He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’
Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.
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sellenite · 6 months
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cherry blossoms 02 pairing: virgin!Choso x fem!reader contents: masturbation (m!), Choso's first kiss!, heavy-making out, no real sex but heavily implied (leading up to it), friends to lovers, heavy on consent because Choso deserves it, slow-burn (a little), fluff + smut word count: 2.4K MDNI | 18+
virgin!Choso who hadn’t been able to stop fantasizing about you since you helped him with his late-night issue over the phone. For the rest of the week, he would lay in bed at night and replay the sound of your voice over and over again in his mind. He imagined your velvety, breathy whisper as you guided him so softly and sensually—soothing, yet erotic at the same time. He thought of your moans—those sweet, angelic sounds—and what he liked to imagine you did to yourself to make them… Every night since your phone call, he found himself in the same situation: his hand wrapped tightly around his length—just like you had taught him—,fisting himself to the memory of your voice until he came. It was almost becoming his nightly routine. Choso was obsessed.
virgin!Choso who couldn’t help but crave more as the days passed. He felt a little guilty as he stroked himself at night, thinking about you, and all of the ways he wanted you to touch him... He knew how dirty it was. Even though the ideas of pleasure and masturbation were new to him, he still understood that he was beginning to view you, very, very differently than just as a “friend.” But he couldn’t stop himself. His imagination was running wild as he recounted all of the different ways you had tried to explain to him how pleasure could be felt. And he was so eager to experience all of it, to explore all of it; but he wanted it to be with you. He thought of the way you made him feel so safe. The way you talked to him so kindly and didn’t judge him for his questions. The way you looked at him with your bright, pretty eyes... Sex just wouldn’t feel right to him if it wasn’t with you. He wanted to be yours; and he wanted you to be his, too.
virgin!Choso who waited until the weekend before he finally allowed himself to invite you over. He felt a little shy when he called you. The two of you had texted since that night, but nothing had been mentioned of your assistance after you had hung up. Now all that remained was an electric tension between the two of you, one that made Choso’s palms sweat and his stomach flutter as he asked you oh-so innocently to come over. He told himself that it was perfectly fine, normal even; you were his friend, after all. And it was Friday night, and the two of you always watched movies with Yuji then. It would be more weird if he didn't invite you over, he rationalized. However, on this particular Friday, things just happened to conveniently fall into place; Yuji was out with his friends, leaving Choso alone in their shared apartment for the rest of the evening.
“I wanted to know if you would like to come over tonight… To watch a movie,” he asked, his deep voice sounding a little more quiet than usual. You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you heard his shy tone, knowing already that Yuji wasn't home.
“I’d like that, Choso,” you responded sweetly, feeling little butterflies stir in your stomach.
virgin!Choso who greeted you at his door only seconds after you knocked. He had been pacing back and forth in his living room for the last hour, anxiously anticipating your arrival. He felt his breath catch in his throat as soon as he saw you standing in his doorway. He had always thought your eyes were so pretty and that your lips looked so full and soft, but he had never understood what it meant… Until now. Now when he saw you he realized how badly he wanted you, how badly he had always wanted you—you were so perfect, so beautiful. He tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see the newfound passion he felt for you burning within his eyes.
“So… Are you gonna let me come in or what?” You asked him teasingly, letting out one of those cheerful giggles he loved so much. He felt his cheeks flush, his hand nervously rubbing at the back of his neck as he mentally slapped himself for staring at you for so long.
virgin!Choso who browsed through movies with you as you sat beside one another on the well-worn loveseat in his and Yuji’s living room. The tension between you two had reduced itself to a simmer, but Choso couldn’t help the glances he stole at your pursed lips as you watched him click through titles with the TV remote. You considered a few different options together before eventually finding an action movie that looked fun and harmless enough. However, halfway through the movie, you both watched intently as the main characters started to engage in a very specific form of action.
You could hear Choso’s breath catch in his throat as the scene turned steamy: a close-up shot of the characters making out on a bed, running their hands up and down their barely-clothed forms. The scene was fun and sexy—and still relatively tame—yet it was all too much for Choso. He had become much too aware of the proximity of your bodies as you sat shoulder-to-shoulder, feeling the heat of your skin practically radiating into his. You snuck a glance over at Choso as you heard him swallow a lump in his throat and your eyes caught on his hands that nervously twitched over his sweatpants—trying in vain to hide the tent that was beginning to form beneath the fabric. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes drifted up to meet his own, his cheeks tinged a light pink. After your phone call last weekend, it was evident that you and Choso were entering a territory that went beyond normal “friendship.” And you could tell by the way he was looking at you that he felt it too.
“Choso… Can I kiss you?” You asked him gently, reaching out to gingerly place your hand on his thigh. You felt confident that he would say yes, but there was a lingering shyness in your question; if there was any ounce of normalcy left in your relationship with Choso, this would certainly break it. Choso looked at you with wide eyes as he felt your hand rest hesitantly on his thigh before gently nodding his head.
“Yes,” he said softly, swallowing hard as he tentatively uncovered his erection and placed his large hand over your own.
virgin!Choso whose lips parted open in anticipation as your other hand found his face, your cool palm resting gently against his flushed cheek. You smiled at him sweetly as you looked into his deep purple eyes, the nervous excitement evident in his dilated pupils.
“Just close your eyes..." You told him in a gentle whisper as you started to lean in. “And follow my lead…” Your and Choso’s eyes fluttered closed as you inched your face closer to his, your hand on his cheek guiding you to his lips.
And then you kissed him. You pressed your lips to his full, plush ones tenderly, slowly even, letting him experience the sensation of the kiss gently. You felt his hand that was still resting on top of yours tighten, his breath catching in his throat as he felt the soft pressure of your lips. A warm shiver ran down his spine like melted honey. He felt dizzy as he processed the feeling of it all; the feather-light touch of your hand on his cheek, the delicate warmth in which you kissed him. His head was spinning—light-headed and giddy all at the same time—and it took him a moment to collect himself before he could kiss you back, tentatively copying the pressure of your lips against his own. You let the kiss linger for a moment before you broke it, letting your parted lips brush teasingly against his, breathing softly.
“More...” Is all Choso whispered back, a breathless flush on his cheeks as he brought his lips quickly back to yours.
virgin!Choso who kissed you back with hunger the second time, letting out a satisfied moan against your lips as he felt the warmth of your mouth return to his. He felt you smile against him as he pressed into you, his hand still nervously squeezing your own in his desperation to feel more of you. He still wasn’t quite sure what to do with his mouth, but he felt how you gently slotted your lips around his top lip and he did the best he could to mimic it on your bottom lip. You hummed in appreciation as he copied your movements, beginning to smoothly slide your mouth over his without pulling back. Choso’s kisses were a sloppy and frenzied in his initial enthusiasm, but he fell into your rhythm quickly. He could feel is heart rate skyrocketing as your soft lips melded with his own over and over again. Your touch was intoxicating and Choso was addicted—addicted to how soft you were against him, and how sweet you tasted on his lips, like candied cherries.
Your hands slid from his face to the back of his head, your fingers lacing through his soft hair that was down from its usual buns. He groaned into the kiss as he worked his mouth against yours and felt your nails gently scratch across his scalp. You could feel the way his hand seemed to twitch over yours and you took the initiative to gently guide it to your waist as you moved your body closer. Choso’s breath faltered as he felt the soft curve of your hip under his palm—practically melting at the touch—as you moved your hand to rest against his strong chest. The kiss broke as you slid your thigh over his lap, straddling his waist gently.
“Is this okay?” You asked him breathlessly but respectfully, looking deeply into his eyes for any sign of discomfort, to which you found none. A boyish smile graced his lightly swollen lips as he looked back at you, eyes shining with excitement. He nodded back fervently, both of his hands smoothing over the curves of your hips as he looked at you in awe.
“More than okay,” he answered with a breathless smile. You beamed back at him happily before you leaned in again, weaving your fingers through his soft, chocolate-colored strands as you kissed him with passion.
virgin!Choso who groaned into your mouth as he felt your hips sink into his lap, your thigh brushing against his now throbbing erection. His fingers dug into the plush of your hips as he instinctively pulled you towards his body, feeling the hunger of when he first started kissing you immediately return. He followed your lead when you let your tongue gently slide against his bottom lip, meeting yours with his own as one of his hands slid to the small of your back, pushing your body flush against his own. He was breathing heavily as he kissed you, feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible. His large palms gripped the delicious plush of your hips and waist, holding you tightly yet tenderly. Your body was so soft beneath his hands and against his chest, and it was driving him insane. He wanted to press his lips to every inch of your skin, to feel every curve of your figure beneath his palms. He wanted to know every inch of your body as if it were his own; to treat you as softly and beautifully as you treated him.
virgin!Choso whose breath caught in his throat as he felt your lips slide away from his mouth to massage over the strong contour of his jaw. His eyes were heavy-lidded as your hand slid to his face, gently angling his chin up as you bowed your head to press a kiss to the pulse point of his neck. He let out a shaky moan as his fingers dug into your hips even harder, holding onto you like an anchor. The way your lips brushed over the sensitive skin of his throat had left him feeling delirious.
“Does that feel good, Choso?” You whispered softly against his skin, tickling his neck as you pressed another kiss to his throat, slightly lower than the last. You could feel your own arousal building as you listened to his ragged breathing and the feeling of his bulge pressed firmly into your thigh.
“Yes… Feels so good,” Choso moaned, his voice almost slurred from the way your soft mouth on his skin seemed to make his braincells evaporate. He leaned his head back further, letting your lips slide and suck over his skin, moaning again when he felt the point of your tongue slip out to tease him. He felt intoxicated, entranced, as if you had put some strange curse on him that made his mind think of you and only you. His body leaned back into the couch, absorbing the feeling of your mouth working down his neck at a sensually slow pace. Your hips began to lightly roll into his lap, grinding your aching core along his hard-on. Choso exhaled a heavy groan as his hips instinctually rolled into yours.
“Please,” he whined softly as you ground your hips gently into his, your lips and tongue still teasing over his neck. He feared that if you kept going he would burst in his pants from that alone; he was already so worked up. You picked your head up to look at him as you heard his plea, his eyes gently opening, swollen lips still parted as he breathed heavily.
“Please, what, Choso?” You asked him softly, once again searching for his explicit consent before you progressed with anything. His deep purple eyes were hungry with desire as you gazed into them, but he felt that familiar comfort he always felt with you stirring in his heart. He swallowed down the last of his nervousness before he answered you, more sure of himself than he had ever been.
“Please, touch me more,” he said gently yet confidently, his thumbs unconsciously rubbing tender circles into your waist. You smiled and nodded your head softly, pressing a kiss to his lips before you asked him sweetly:
“Do you trust me?”
PSA: If you saw me change this story for the millionth time... No you didn't... 😭 It was up for awhile before I realized that I wanted to revise it. I felt that I missed some of Choso's softness in the original version I had uploaded so I wanted to rewrite him and do him justice 🫶
But thank you so much for reading! Everyone who has read, liked, commented and/or reblogged, just know you have made my week 🫶
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alvojake · 27 days
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i need tattoo artist jungwon and reader is his client, also his ex-girlfriend
「notes」 : thank you, anon, for blessing my inbox with this beautiful request because it left me thinking of tatted jungwon for days 😵‍💫
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Inked Hearts | Y.JW
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「paring」 : tattoartist!exbf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.9k
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「synopsis」 : it has been a few months since you and jungwon had a huge fight resulting in you breaking up; though things ended poorly, you still craved his touch. then you realize that you still have a tattoo appointment with him, dreading it. you just decide to push his buttons, not fully expecting it to end with you bending over the bed.
「genre」 : smut
「warning」 : cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), orgasm denial, edging, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, manhandling, petnames (babydoll, baby...), the reader is a brat, clit play, teasing, rough sex, both the reader and jungwon are kinda toxic, public(ish) sex, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!
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It had been almost a month and a half since you and Jungwon had broken up over a petty little argument that some jealous girl in the club started. All because she couldn’t get Jungwon to budge when hitting on him. So what does she do? She spills her drink all over your outfit, then gets one of her guy friends to ‘help’ clean it up. All while making sure Jungwon was watching the whole time, this guy not so discreetly put his hands all over your chest.
The whole thing resulted in Jungwon yanking you away from Mr. Handsey and blowing up right outside of the club. He didn’t give you even a chance to explain what had happened, which only pissed you off. So you ended up yelling right back at him, embarrassed and hurt that he didn’t even bother giving you a chance to explain then goes and starts shouting hurtful things right outside where prying ears could easily hear.
It was safe to say that you never returned to your shared apartment that night, or any night, really. You only showed up when he wasn’t home to gather the things you’d need to crash at a friend's house until further notice.
Everyone told you that it would all blow over, and you would be able to talk it out with him. However, you knew he was too stubborn and your pride too large for either of you to step up and apologize first. This brings you to your current situation, staying with friends and working part-time at the very club that started this whole mess.
You didn’t really want to be working in the same place that ended your four-year-long relationship, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. It helped pay bills and kept you from going hungry. Though you can’t say, you valued your job enough to not jump over the counter every time you saw the little wench that ruined everything. The only thing holding you back was sitting behind bars until someone could come and bail you out. If they did.
Jungwon was still a sore spot for you, especially when you would drive by his tattoo shop. The very shop where he gave you your very first tattoo. The same shop that you were sure he had you bent over or on top of about every surface he could. Fucking you so good you saw stars and leaving your legs shaking. It brought back memories you wished you could relive, but then you remembered everything, and you’d be damned if you were going to be the first to apologize. 
But you never received a call nor a text of any kind from him, sure that he had blocked you. Thus leading you to believe that everything was actually over and you’d never see him again.
Or so you thought…
“Son of a fucking bitch!” You exclaimed, nearly flinging yourself off of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand.
“Y/n language!” your current roommate, Karina, shouted from down the hall. Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and stood on your feet. Not even two seconds later, Karina was peeking into your room, fixing her septum. “What happened, though? Anything juicy?”
You couldn’t help but give her a deadpan stare, you loved her, but her incessant need for any gossip was one thing that damn near drove you up a wall.
However, you just let it slide this time because you needed someone to rant to. “I fucking forgot that I had a tattoo appointment with Jungwon today.” You groaned, flinging yourself backward onto your bed while Karina stifled a laugh.
“Damn, babe, looks like the world is really against you.” She smirked at you, her eyes scanning your face catching the conflicted emotions that swirled in your eyes. 
Karina would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing you like this; it was a taste of your own medicine, really. You were one of her closest friends, but anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that you sucked at communication and then blamed it on the other person. Was she rooting for you and Jungwon to get back together? Definitely. Was she also rooting for the possibility that Jungwon or someone would do something about the attitude you’ve had? Fuck yes. 
“Are you still going to go?” Karina asked as she looked down at her nails, making a mental note to repolish them when she had the chance.
With a sigh, you brought your hand to your forehead, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows. “I’m gonna have to. Jungwon is the only one that I know that can ace this design.” Groaning you slapped the palm of your hand against your forehead, “fuck it, I’m going, worst comes to worst I’ll just let Jay do it.”
Karina hummed, looking up at you through her lashes, watching as you hastily searched your wardrobe for a suitable outfit. She had to bite back a smirk when you pulled out a black lace bra and matching underwear. As much as you say you’re dreading running into your ex, your actions tell a whole other story.
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You made it to the tattoo studio well before your appointment was meant to start; you’d rather be super early than late. 
Walking inside, you were greeted by the receptionist you’ve known since Jungwon hired her a year or so ago. Her lips were covered in a huge smile, showcasing her smiley piercing.
“Y/n, oh my god, it’s been forever! How have you been?” Belle greeted you as she stood from her seat, rushing over to engulf you in a hug.
“Hey Belle, I’ve been okay.” You patted her back softly before she moved away, her eyes shining brightly, “is Jungwon here?”
Belle’s eyebrows scrunched together, confused about your usage of Jungwon’s full name. She hadn’t been aware of the breakup, thinking that you had your own personal matters to attend to, which is why she hadn’t seen you.
“He went out to grab a few things, should be back soon.” The new voice caused your head to turn, catching sight of the tall, dark-haired male standing in the doorway, the light reflecting off of his eyebrow and lip rings. “How have you been holding up pipsqueak?” 
“Oh, you know, another day in paradise.” You shrugged, and Jay chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from your words, “And what have I said about that damn nickname?”
“And I’ve told you countless times to get used to it; it’s not goin’ anywhere.” He shrugged with a smirk, causing you to glare at him. “I’m surprised Won didn’t cancel the whole appointment; he’s been huffing and puffing about it all week.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “of course he has.” 
Jay laughed at the sour expression that had taken over your features, knowing that you weren’t much different from Jungwon with the whole ‘being the bigger person’ bit. Even if the two of you were locked in a room, he doubted you’d apologize to each other—at least not verbally.
Which is why Jay took it upon himself to clear out the studio as soon as you were back in Jungwon’s room. Giving you two the chance to ‘talk’ it out and saving everyone in the studio from the trauma of hearing it all happen. However, he needed something that he knew you’d use that would essentially set Jungwon off.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m free if you’d rather me do your tattoo,” he suggested, and he could see the hope gleam in your eyes. Too bad it was just a front. There was no way in hell that Jungwon would let anyone else do your tattoo, especially another guy, not with where it was placed.
“If he gives me too much hell, I might just take you up on that offer.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, unknowingly pushing your breast up.
The sound of the bell above the door caused him to avert his gaze, already knowing who had just walked in.
Jungwon walks in, and his eyes instantly fall on you before flickering over to Jay, who had been in mid-conversation with you. His face sours at the sight of you just standing there, more so when he notices the thin shirt you are wearing, as well as the skirt that sits just barely below your ass. Noticing his presence, you look over before rolling your eyes at the glare that harbored his face, already growing annoyed with his face.
You turn away, opening your mouth to talk to Jay once more. However, you are cut short when Jungwon walks in front of you, setting things down on the reception desk.
“Is your memory that bad that you forgot where my room was, or were you just waiting for an escort?” His tone was snarky as his eyes flickered over to you, eyebrow quirked up. He couldn’t help but smirk at the annoyed expression that painted your face beautifully. If there was one thing he loved almost just as much as fucking you, it was getting under your skin, riling you up.
“I do not ne-” “Hey Belle, put these in the back for me, will ya?” Jungwon just cut you off leaving you standing there looking at him with a flabbergasted look, jaw clenched tightly. 
Jay stood off to the side, watching with an amused gleam in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure, then he’s definitely sure now. It wasn’t just any normal tension between the two of you. No, it was just straight sexual tension. He then looked over at Heeseung, who had just looked up from his phone, motioning towards the door. The purple-haired male nodded before motioning to the others discreetly.
“Come on, Dory, let me show you the way since you obviously don’t remember.” Jungwon’s words struck a cord, and it took everything in you not to blow up. Your dark eyes watched Jungwon’s back as he walked into the main room, taking a deep breath deciding that he wasn’t worth the humiliation. So you waved softly at Jay before following after your ex-boyfriend.
Walking into Jungwon’s room, you could easily tell that he was annoyed, especially when he shut the door with such force that it shook the walls a bit. Rolling your eyes once more, you walked over to the counter, leaning back on it.
“You know, if you’re so pissed about doing my tattoo, I’m sure Jay would love to do it for me.” You bit back a smirk as his jaw tightened, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. A sense of pride filled your chest, knowing that you were slowly getting under his skin.
“Shut up and take your shirt off.” He hissed through gritted teeth, turning his body to face you. His eyes bore into you, making a chill go down your spine. The same stare that he would give you moments before he pinned you to the next surface and ‘taught’ you a lesson. Normally you would have thought that it would disgust you after everything, but no. It left your body burning, sure that your panties were already getting soaked.
However, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of winning. No, he was going to have to make you.
“You know that’s not how you would talk to a client, plus the least you could do is turn around.” You sassed him, crossing your arms over your chest once more, a smirk spreading across your glossed lips.
It took Jungwon two seconds flat to move in front of you, hands against the counter, caging your body in. His warm breath fanned your face as he inched closer. Your heart lept in your chest at the sudden proximity, and your stomach did flips as his scent filled your senses.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you in less. Take it off before I tear it off.” He growled, the sound sending a wave of heat right to your core.
Keeping your composure, you stood straight, brushing your nose right against his, finger poking his chest. “Last time I checked, you said you didn’t want to see my tainted goods.”
In the blink of an eye, Jungwon had his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to elicit a whimper from you.
“The only thing ‘tainted’ about you is that damn attitude.” His voice was low as he pulled you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours. Your eyes stared up at him, pupils blown wide, and Jungwon wasn’t stupid; he knew you were doing this to get a rise out of him. A smirk then spread across his lips, sending a shiver throughout your body, “how about you listen and lose it, or…” he closed the gap between your bodies. Your heart lurched when you felt his bulge against your stomach. “Am I gonna have to fuck it out of you like old times?” The sinister gleam in his eyes was enough to tell you what the answer was.
“Won…” You breathed out, voice hoarse from his hold. Your body was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the ache between your legs only grew as the seconds passed.
Jungwon chuckled, “Oh, so it’s Won now? Not Jungwon or asshole?” His fingers tightened a bit more, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. Then his smirk faded, and his eyes darkened, “On the bed, give me any more attitude, and you won’t be cumming, babydoll.” His grip then fell from your throat, allowing you to breathe properly.
You bit your tongue to suppress the smirk on your lips as you walked over to the bed, climbing on top. Laying back on your elbows, your legs parted just enough to give him a peek at your black underwear. 
“Are you sure you can restrain yourself? I mean, it has been a while.” Your lips quirked up as you stretched your foot out, brushing over his growing erection. Amusement gleamed in your eyes as his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening even more.
Jungwon grabbed your ankle, pulling it to his side before slotting himself between your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hip, pulling your body flush against his. Your body shivered at his touch, goosebumps littering your skin, and the arousal pooling in your panties grew even more.
“Missed my touch that much, huh?” That cocky smirk found its way back onto his lips, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yeah, right.” You huffed, staring up at him, but Jungwon wasn’t stupid. He knew your body like the back of his hand—every little thing that made you tick, all the places that would have you like putty in his hands. He knew that you were craving him just by the look in your eyes when you walked in.
“Really?” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, eyes boring into yours. “Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His fingers found your clothed core, pressing down, feeling your slick soak through. Your jaw clenched shut trying to keep from letting any noises out, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“How do you know it’s for you? I mean, Jay does loo-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Jungwon had his ring-clad fingers wrapped around your throat. Squeezing hard enough to elicit a squeak from your lips, eyes staring up at him with a glare.
“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” He growled, his eyes challenging you and normally you would have just kept your mouth shut, but right now? You wanted to push his buttons until he snapped, that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn’t have to obey him.
He wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, after all.
Your lips curled into a smirk, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips for a split second. “I was saying that Jay looks more than capable to fuck me stupid.”
Then, just like that switch flipped in Jungwon’s brain, his eyes darkened with a rage you’ve never seen before. His hand around your neck released its grip before he leaned back far enough to strip himself of his jacket, revealing his inked skin. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hands itching to touch him. However, before your hands made contact with his skin, he had your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head.
Jungwon’s dick twitched in his pants as he took in how small your hands were in comparison to his. Really just how much smaller you were compared to him altogether. He loved it, loved how easy it was for him to trap you in place. Loved how easy he could maneuver your body to whatever position he wanted. He then realized just how much he missed having you pinned underneath him.
“Babydoll, we both know that no one can fuck you stupid like I can.” He chastised you before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your jaw. Your body squirmed under his, the heat making you feel lightheaded. The need for some kind of friction was almost overbearing.
Jungwon relished in the way your hips were moving against his, listening to the soft sounds that left your lips. His free hand then moved from your hip, finding your clothed clit, and pressing down harshly.
“Fuck!” You cried out, your nerves shooting shockwaves throughout your entire body. His hands were rough on your body, sending your mind reeling. “Won, wait- shit, please be gentle.” You whined out as his pace picked up, making your body jolt. Tears are already pricking at the corner of your eyes.
Jungwon chuckled darkly before he bit down on the junction of your neck, “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address.” he growled before moving your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your tight hole with ease.
Your mouth fell agape as soundless moans fell from your lips, and your body shivered. It had been far too long since you’ve experienced anything like this, and it was turning your brain to mush.
“Look at you, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already about to cum.” He berated you as he slipped another finger into your soaping cunt.
“Jungwon!” You cried out, nails digging into the palm of your hand. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and the knot in your stomach tightened unimaginably as his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.
Your eyes rolled back, legs twitching on either side of his hips as his fingers coaxed your climax closer. Jungwon smirked against your skin, knowing you were close to the way you were squeezing his fingers like a vice. Your moans of his name were music to his ears, though what he wanted was for your ability to make coherent sentences completely useless.
Just as your high was about to crash over you, Jungwon pulled his soaked fingers from your pulsating pussy, making a loud whine fall from your parted lips.
“Fuck! You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” You cried out, meeting his eyes as he pulled away from your neck.
“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easy, did you?” He smirked, keeping his eyes on yours as he stuck his drenched digits in his mouth. You whined, wiggling under his grip as frustration bubbled up in your chest. “Be a good girl and beg, then I might let you cum.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, eyes glaring up at him. “In your dreams, pretty boy.” You spit out, jaw clenched tightly. Eyes watched as he just shook his head, a sinister smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be begging for me by the time I’m through with you.” His fingers then slipped back into your slick cunt, his pace relentless. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep your noise down while he worked his slender fingers into you.
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The pattern continued for what felt like hours. Jungwon would work you close to your climax before ripping it away. Tears were spilling from your eyes, smearing your makeup from the frustration of not being able to cum.
You had lost count of how many times he’d denied you, but you knew that you could only handle so much more. The underwear you had been wearing had been tossed off in the room somewhere, leaving your arousal to pool on the bed beneath you.
The skin of your neck and chest had been painted in deep red and purple blotches as well as bite marks. Your pupils were blown wide as you stared up at him. Your walls clenched around his fingers once again as another orgasm built up in your gut.
“Won-” You were cut off by a choked moan as he denied you yet another orgasm; sobs racked your lungs as you wiggled under his hold. 
“Awww, is my poor baby getting frustrated?” He smirked, eyes studying your expressions as he slid his fingers back into your puffy cunt. His pace was quick, making sure he added extra pressure to your sweet spot, knowing that you would fold sooner rather than later.
As another orgasm built up, your eyes rolled back, and your will was slowly diminishing. Your chest was tight as you anticipated him to stop once again.
And he did.
You cried out, pleading with him with your eyes, but he wanted to hear you. You knew that you were going to have to swallow your pride if you were going to get what you wanted.
A gasp fell from your lips as he pressed against your clit, moving in tight circles. Your head fell back as you tried to form a coherent sentence.
“Won- fuck, please don’t stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You panted, eyes meeting his darker ones.
He leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips before trailing to your ear as he sunk his fingers back into you. "See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”
Pleas and whines fell from your lips as he continued to work into your core, tears blurring your vision. Hoping that he wouldn’t stop this time, that he would actually give you what you wanted.
But just like before he pulled away just as it was about to crash over you.
Before you could even whine about it, he let go of your hands, pulling your body off of the bed, flipping you over before bending you over. A choked moan fell from your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass before rubbing the red spot.
“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you cum babydoll.” He smirked, hands tracing up your thighs and under the skirt you were still wearing. His thumb pressed against your slit, watching as you clenched around it.
“Wonnie, please fuck me already.” You whined head turned to look back at him. Eyes glazed over with lust, the only thing on your mind was having him fucking you so good that you saw stars.
He unzipped his pants before tugging them down, letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight, hips subconsciously wiggling in anticipation. He chuckled darkly before pumping himself a few times, then grabbing your hip in his other hand. He teased your entrance with his tip until you were a whining, begging mess.
“Well, if you want it so bad, then you better start taking it.” Without another word, he bottomed out in one go, causing a pitiful squeak to leave your lips.
“W-Won-” Your words caught in your throat as he started thrusting into you at a bruising pace, not giving you a chance to adjust. His hand gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises by the next day.
Another choke moan spilled from your lips as one of his hands snaked around your waist, fingers finding your sensitive clit. He circled the bundle of nerves harshly in time with his thrust causing your body to jolt and a cry to fall from your lips.
You buried your face into the hard cushions of the bed, hoping to muffle some of your noises, suddenly becoming acutely aware of where you were. You prayed that no one could hear anything that was going on right now. However, Jungwon didn’t care who heard. Actually, he did care because he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, especially Jay. 
He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your body up, your back flush against his chest as he continued to plow into you. Your moans grow louder as the position changes.
“Feels good, huh, babydoll?” He chuckled as his hand snaked around your hips, pressing down on the small bulge in your lower stomach. A choked cry fell from your lips as he pressed down, making you feel him even more, “You really wanna tell me that Jay can fuck you just as good as I can? Hmm?” 
You shook your head frantically, knowing that no one would be able to get you like this but him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungwon!” You screamed out the worry of other people hearing completely gone from your mind.
He continued to pound into your abused pussy, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. The pressure of his hand on your stomach was making your mind fuzz as moans and whines of his name fell from your lips.
“Gonna cum already baby?” He growled in your ear as he snapped his hips into yours, hitting spots that only he had claimed for himself. His grip tightened on your waist as he angled his hip a bit more.
“Holy shit!” You cursed loudly, your eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot dead on. Your mouth fell open as your head lolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your lips.
A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when he brought his hand from your stomach to your clit, rubbing harshly. All of the pleasure and your impending orgasm were causing your legs to start shaking and your mind to go blank.
“That’s it, babydoll, give it to me. Make a mess on my cock” Jungwon knew you were close, switching his position once more until you were crying over his dick, moments away from your orgasm. He pressed wet and hot kisses along your exposed neck before biting down in time with his fingers on your clit.
Silent moans fell from your lips, and your vision turned white as your orgasm tore through your body. Jungwon groaned into your skin as you clenched down tightly on him, but his pace didn’t slow, easily throwing you into overstimulation.
“W-Won- fuck!” Your whole body was trembling as continuous waves of pleasure washed through your body.
“Fuck. I’m almost there; just hold on.” His harsh and gruff tone had switched to soft and borderline whines, causing your mind to almost combust.
His once harsh pace was starting to become sloppy, erratic, and uneven, a telltale sign that he was close. His hips still snapped into yours harshly, which was bringing you closer to another orgasm. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You whine out, nails digging into Jungwon’s forearms, trying to ground yourself as another climax washes over you, nearly taking your breath away. Tears were spilling from the corner of your eyes, falling down and drenching Jungwon’s shirt under your head.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. You’re gonna take all of it, babydoll, got it?” He growled in your ear but didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was pumping his load into your womb.
His hips jerk a few more times, fucking his cum back into you before falling to a complete stop.
Heavy breathing filled the room as you both stood there, trying to catch your breath. Jungwon pressed soft kisses over the swollen spots on your skin where he had bit down. Coaxing you back down from your high, fingers drawing shapes on your hips.
“Won…” You breathed out, blinking your eyes a few times to clear the tears before glancing up at him.
“There she is.” He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The feeling made your heart flutter—you had missed this, you had missed him. 
Then everything came flooding back, the hurt following. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself away from him before searching for your underwear with shaky legs.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Jungwon asked, fixing himself before making his way towards you.
“This shouldn’t have happened, we’re not together anymore.” You told him, your eyes looking everywhere but him.
Jungwon could hear the hurt in your tone, and he knew you were right about the not being together part, at least. However, he wasn’t about to let you walk away from him again no matter how upset he was then, he knew now.
“Baby…” His hands found your waist, pulling you into his chest, causing your heart to lurch. 
“Jungwon, let me-” “No, please listen to me. I’m sorry I was such a dickhead.” He breathed out, arms wrapping around your smaller frame, “I should have let you explain but instead I just let her words cloud my mind and I know that’s not any excuse, but I’m sorry I truly am.” His words sunk into your skin, and tears brimmed in your eyes once more. “Let me make it up to you. Give me a chance, please baby.”
You inhaled shakily before turning your head to look back at him, “Fine, but only if we go to that one restaurant I like.”
Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before peppering kisses all over your face, “Whatever you want, baby.”
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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months
Note
A Alastor x wife!reader where reader has been wanting a family and finally by some miracle she discovers she's pregnant
Just a thought 🫠
You are not even the third person to ask for this and we're all already delusional here soooooo-
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Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Sadness, Reader has baby fever and spreads it to her husband unintentionally, A little angst, Implied baby making 😉
Description: 👆⬆️
Alastor would do anything for his wife, spare no expense for her happiness and it shows
You two have talked previously about your obvious desire for a family with him
He would be willing to give that to you even though he's admittedly not the biggest fan of the idea
Part of him is scared of being a father but he won't ever admit that
You two both knew that sinners couldn't reproduce, and it crushed you that the opportunity was taken from you
You were still happy to have your husband and your found family at the hotel
You just still had that desire to have a baby, your husband's baby to be exact
Alastor hates seeing you so hurt over this, he wants to fix things for you, but this is out of his control
He couldn't give you a baby no matter how hard he tried, and that makes him feel helpless, which makes him angry
Sometimes the longing for a baby and the despair of knowing you can't have one gets to be too much for you and you unintentionally draw into yourself
Not amount of hugging or soothing words from your husband can console you, no matter how hard you cling to him and seek his comfort
You're just so sad sometimes
Which leads to Alastor being frosty and agitated with the others around the hotel, upset that he can't just fix it
He would give you the biggest family if he could, whatever he could do to make you feel whole
It's not like you two are neglecting each other or growing apart, there's just this heavy feeling hanging between you two
Everyone knows something is up with you two, but nobody is brave enough to ask, except maybe Vaggie, but she's respecting your privacy as a couple
Of course, it's Charlie who tries to get to the bottom of things for the two of you, everyone is just worried you two are fighting
So when you finally relent and tell her the truth, she's relieved that you and Alastor only want to have a baby-
YOU AND ALASTOR WANT TO HAVE A BABY!?
Sinners can't reproduce so you're just riding out your baby fever until it's manageable again
But no sinner has had a friend in the Morningstar family before
Not even a day later Alastor is greeted by Lucifer while you're out with Charlie and the others
"Hey man, heard you wanted me to get your wife pregnant! Lucky for you, I happen to have a thing for married women~"
When you come back home you're surprised to see Lucifer and your husband talking amicably, both turning their heads towards you immediately
"Ah! Would you look at the time? I should really get going, things to do, ducks to make-what?"
Lucifer gives you an unexpected side hug on his way out, hand resting momentarily on your stomach before leaving
You rub where he touched, surprised by the sudden warmth that lingers there
Your husband is looking at you strangely too but kisses you in greeting before you can even question it
Alastor acts rather clingy the rest of the day, following you around, asking you how you're feeling, giving affection more freely
You can't deny that you're loving the attention and soaking up every bit of it, the warmth in your stomach having spread throughout your entire body now
If Alastor's sudden neediness is anything to go by, he's feeling the same as you are
How either of you manage to wait until everyone has gone to bed to indulge in each other is beyond you
The entire night is a blur but when you wake up the entire bed has nearly been torn apart
Feathers are all over the place, the blankets have all been kicked away or shredded, the bed frame is clawed and cracked
You would almost feel embarrassed, but when you look at your handiwork on your husband, you can't help but feel proud
Things mostly go back to normal after that, except Lucifer visits more often and seems to pay special attention to you
You feel like everyone is watching you lately and you don't know why, you're never alone anymore, your husband especially is very hovery
But it ends up working out in your favor because one day you wake up, overwhelmed by the urge to vomit, your husband holding back your hair
And it keeps happening for days on end, and you start gaining weight without explanation, and your cravings are suddenly intense and-
Your husband is looking a little too pleased with himself, rubbing your back soothingly as you poke at your mysteriously changing body in the mirror
"You did this to me somehow, didn't you!"
"Why honey, why would I need to babytrap you when we're already married?"
"Because you-what?"
It takes a few moments to register what he said, all the strange things in the last few months clicking into place
"You got me pregnant..?"
He actually starts to look a little embarrassed, suddenly unsure if he really did the right thing after all-
When did he end up on the bed?
Is definitely sure in his decision later when he exits the bedroom, fixing his hair and clothes while he leaves you sleeping in bed
Luckily, the hotel has a lot of people who are willing to help out with your pregnancy because Alastor is worried he's actually in over his head
Your mood swings are more like mood hurricanes and sometimes he needs help knowing the right things to say
"Y/N, don't worry about not fitting into your own clothes, this is uh...just an opportunity to get new ones!"
"T-Thanks Vaggie..."
The cravings start to get fucking weird, Alastor genuinely repulsed by some of the things you're asking him for
"Darling, I can get you fresh meat as bloody as you want but do you really need to eat it with cake and ice cream?"
"Don't you love me..?"
He'll be back in 10 minutes
The bigger you get, the more sore and tired you are, constantly needing help around the hotel as you waddle around
"Thanks for helping me, Husk...I was getting really tired."
"Charlie, is it alright if I sit in that chair? My back is killing me.."
Alastor is scared with how vulnerable you are like this so he sticks close to you but silently appreciates the help from everyone
Even the other overlords come to see your miracle pregnancy, which doesn't help with Alastor's paranoia over how defenseless you are right now
They just want to see
As if Carmilla or Rosie would let anything happen to you anyways, Rosie loves the crap out of you and Carmilla wouldn't hurt an expecting mother
Rosie is constantly visiting and bringing baby gifts, so many that they're starting to pile up around the hotel
"Oh darling, you're practically glowing! Alastor! Have you told Y/N how radiant she is with her pregnancy?"
She wants to be Aunty Rosie so bad
Alastor genuinely admires the changes in your body, feeling pride in the thought that he did this to you
"With a little help from the big boss of-"
"You haven't left already?"
"I want to talk to my god child~ Can you stop hogging Y/N's belly for five minutes?"
"Your what now?
Alastor rubs your belly a lot, baffled by the idea that his spawn is in there and how happily you carry it
How you're so proud to be having his kid is beyond him, he knows what a wretched man he is and you still love him, take pride in him
The first time he feels the baby kick, he's a little unnerved but then you guide his hand back, smiling at him in a way that makes his heart ache for you
"Our baby wants to say hi to you..."
Okay, now his heart is melting, give your husband a kiss right now
Starts kissing and talking to your belly more after that, talking to the baby about anything and everything as if you're not even there
"Now your mother, you have no idea how lucky she is to have me as her husband~"
Confides in you late one night, about his fear of being a father and failing you and the baby
Not him having tears pinpricking in the corners of his eyes as you kiss him and reassure him
He doesn't particularly care about the gender of his child, just that you and the little spawn are okay
But if the baby is a girl, then he would like her to have his mother's name, that's all he would ask really
If the baby is a boy then he'll let you pick the name out as long as it's something fancy sounding
Does all the work when it comes to the nursery and baby proofing but has no idea what that actually entails, so you'll have to help him out
He's so proud to show you the finished look
The closer it gets to your due date, the more out of sorts and anxious he is but he tries to put on a brave face for you
He makes sure you never have to lift a finger, doing everything he can to make you comfortable and spending all his free time with you
Carmilla and her daughters all volunteer to assist in the labor, Zestial coming for the sake of tagging along
Alastor is in genuine anguish when you actually go into labor, the sound of you in pain and him being helpless to help is torture for him
Refuses to leave your side the entire time, blocking out everything else but you and encouraging you as best he can
Focuses so hard on taking care of you that he hardly notices that you've finished, surprised when Carmilla suddenly puts not one but two babies in your arms
You're visibly exhausted but seem to gain a renewed energy at the sight of your babies, looking at them in wonder before giving Alastor a tearful smile
"A boy and a girl, a miracle on top of already being miracle babies. Congratulations, Alastor."
Carmilla pats him on the shoulder before leaving, pulling Zestial and her daughters along with her
Alastor doesn't even register what she said, still dumbfounded at the sight of you cooing at two squirming infants
TWINS!? Lucifer, you sneaky son of a bi-
"Do you want to hold them, Alastor?"
"I would love nothing more, my dear..."
He definitely doesn't immediately fall in love when his babies cling to him like they'll never let go, holding his fingers in their unbelievably tiny hands
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A LITTLE TREAT FOR ALL OF YOU WHO WERE BEGGING FOR THIS
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?
Word Count: 7.5 k
Warnings:
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Author's Note: I was planning on having more out this week, but storms here where I live have set me back a bit in getting things out due to power constantly going down. I'm behind, but I promise things are still coming. We have the steamy risking it without protection fic and the angsty Truth or Dare part 6 coming, so stay tuned!
Lt. Riley doesn’t really want to be here, stuck in the middle of the loud, crowded bar right off base on his night off and yet here he is amidst it all. Just wanted to, he will repeat if pushed for an answer as to why he’s come out and a part of him might even mean it, at least that is what he will try to convince himself of because he can’t accept that he knows it’s a lie. 
A strong grip wrapped around his glass from his large hand, he brings his bourbon to his lips as those brown eyes scan the place from within the recesses of his thinner black balaclava that he wears when back in civility. His dark eyes are constantly on the move to disguise their true target, flitting from Soap to Garrick to whoever else is speaking around the small group of tables the taskforce has claimed for the evening only to dart back to one person: you. 
He eyes you across the bar chatting up some bloke with mid length black hair and a prominent neck tattoo, smiling and giggling in what looks to be a lively conversation of shared interests and it makes his blood pressure rise until he can feel the heat in his face. Lucky for him that the mask conceals enough, only being pulled up from time to time for him to take a drink or grab a quick smoke.
For whatever reason you both have never really gotten along with one another, even from day one. There is something about your personalities that just does not mix, a tension that always leads to an argument. Maybe it is the similarities in your natures, maybe it is because you aren’t afraid to speak out where he is more subdued and calculated. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, whenever you are in proximity it is like trying to force gasoline and fire to coexist in the same place without causing destruction. Sure, you can both be professional in the right setting, force yourselves to work together for a common goal as sergeant and lieutenant and you are good at it, but once the threat is gone and you are back on safe ground, the feud ramps right back up.
So it surprises you when the lieutenant immediately agrees to tag along tonight. He usually isn’t too keen on this type of rowdy fun, preferring quieter company, but over the past couple of months it seems like wherever it is you find yourself he is never too far away. It is a free country and he can do as he damn well please, even though it is obvious the way his stare keeps coming back to you.
He may have everyone else fooled, but not you, no. There is no mistaking the feeling you get whenever his gaze falls on you.
You have noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks the way that somber glare subtly finds you when you are near. Clearly you are doing something right to piss him off and there is something euphoric about forcing his attention to constantly stick to you. Why not play it up? Maybe you like the idea of making him watch as you finally score. 
You hope it makes him seethe to see you happy.
Those dark eyes stick to you for a couple hours until finally he has caught what he has been waiting for. He follows your form as you get up from your seat and make your way over towards the bathrooms. He can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity and before you have even let the bathroom door shut behind you, the lieutenant is already on his feet and drawing down his mask as he stalks towards the bastard you were just chatting up a second ago with only one goal in mind. 
The same goal he has had for months now anytime you start to get too close to anyone.
Your mystery man has just brought the neck of his beer bottle up and put it to his lips when the shadow from the lieutenant’s large stature casts over the table he is still sitting at. As he looks up he is met with the most intimidating face he has ever seen staring right back at him. The firm stance mixed with the glare in the lieutenant’s eyes within the skull mask gives the man pause and the confidence he once had slips away as he struggles to find his voice.
“Can I help…?” the dark-haired man barely gets out before he is cut off as the lieutenant steps up to him.
“That bird you’re talkin’ to just a moment ago,” Lt. Riley says, his thick British accent deep and viciously harsh from the very first syllable; he’s only got a few minutes to get this done. “Ya best leave ‘er alone if ya know what’s good for ya.”
The man swallows hard trying not to choke as he is caught off-guard by the intense hostility that has seemingly come out of nowhere. “Dude, if she’s with you I’m sorry, I didn’t know. She’s the one that approached me, honest,” he chokes out his apologies, hoping that it will be enough not to get his face bashed in by this hulking specimen of a man. 
Lt. Riley ignores his comment and leans down closer to his face, his stare sharp and cruel as he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. His fingers dig in hard until the man winces. “Don’t let me catch ya talkin’ to ‘er anymore tonight, got it? Cause if I gotta come over again you’re gonna wish I didn’t and by then it’ll be too fuckin’ late for ya. I’ll make sure ta put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Do ya understand?”
Eyes wide in fear, the man slowly nods; there is no need to be told twice, not from a man like this. He knows the type of guys that frequent the bar as the military base is not but a few minutes from here and he isn’t looking to get pulverized by a trained professional. A slight tremble in his hand, the man grabs his beer bottle and takes off into the bar with a worried look on his face. 
Lt. Riley watches as the man hides himself behind a large group standing around the L-shaped bar near the bartender and a smug sense of satisfaction fills him as he heads back to his own table to finish his drink, content that once again he has succeeded in his mission. It’s not even a couple minutes that pass before the corner of his vision catches a familiar figure exiting the bathroom and heading back to the table he had just left from.
You return to your seat only to find your new friend nowhere to be found. Looking around, you second guess yourself that this isn’t where you are supposed to be, but this is your table; your rum and coke is still right where you had left it. You take your seat and pick up your drink; it’s possible that he had just scurried off somewhere and would be back any second. But as the time passes with no man in sight, frustration begins to wash over you as you realize that this shit is happening again.
It’s been months since you’ve been able to have your needs met by something other than your fingers and for some strange reason no matter how good things seem to be going, it ends in you getting ghosted. Why? Even the few times you’ve had encounters on base the guys you had flirted with for days suddenly go cold and avoid you like the plague.
Is there something wrong with me? you question yourself silently. 
Across the way, Lt. Riley downs the last swig of bourbon in his glass, setting it back on the tabletop gently as he situates his mask back down. He doesn’t say a word or offer a goodbye, opting to silently slip out from his seat unnoticed to head outside with a smirk contorting his lips beneath the fabric covering his mouth. 
He has gotten what he wanted…well, not all. There is still something else that eats away at him, a specter at the back of his mind, and even as he convinces himself that he is only doing this to make you mad it still lays there in waiting. 
Back at your empty table, you finish your own drink and are about to call it a night when you spot your potential lover tucked away at the far end of the bar, hunched down in his seat. It’s odd the way he is sitting; it almost looks like he is trying to avoid being spotted, but that can’t be right, can it? Moving your way through the noisy crowd of people, you make it over to him.
“Thought I lost you,” you say cheerfully and watch him choke into his drink. 
He coughs a few times before he is able to get it under control and speak. “Think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says. His response is quick and dismissive as he sets his bottle down and turns to leave, but you are determined to at least get some feedback as none of this is making sense. 
You block his path with your stance and watch as his whole body tenses. “Did something happen? I thought we were having a nice time.”
The man uneasily looks around the area, searching for something that he ends up not being able to find, but that only alleviates some of the tension in his brows. “Look,” he says as he turns his attention back to you, “you’re really nice and all, but I’m not interested in getting my head caved in tonight, okay?”
Your cheerful expression falls. “What are you talking about?” you ask in confusion.
He takes a breath; he needs to get out of this conversation fast. “Some big masked guy came over while you were gone and threatened to put me in the ground if I didn’t leave you alone, so that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t know if he’s your ex or something, but I don’t want any part of that,” he confirms. “So, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get out of here before he comes back.”
You want to convince him to stay, that there is nothing going on that he needs to worry about, that it’s just your vindictive lieutenant trying to ruin your night, but the way he is shaken up you know there is no stopping him. All you can do is defeatedly watch him walk away as you say goodbye at any chance you had at getting laid tonight. 
But this encounter isn’t completely useless; with his revelation things begin to add up now. All this time you thought it was you who scared off your potential lovers somehow, that there was something wrong with you that kept driving them away, but no. It is Lt. Riley who is going around threatening people to stay away from you, you are sure of it now.
And that makes you see red. What even is his endgame? Things have always been tense between you two, but this is going too far. You need to find out why and now because this is becoming unbearable. He has messed with your life long enough without your knowledge; tonight it is all going to end. 
You turn your head back over to where the lieutenant had been seated and you spot his glass still sitting on the table. He couldn’t have left that long ago if his empty cup hasn’t even been cleared yet; if you leave right now and hurry, you probably will catch him. Quickly getting the bartender’s attention you pay your tab and immediately head out into the night ready to get your answers.    
Each step makes your heartbeat pound a little faster the closer you get to base. Fueled by the uninhibited state you find yourself in from of the couple of drinks you had, you don’t want the moment to dissipate; you need your anger to power your words so that your lieutenant knows just how far over the line he has crossed. 
You make it back on base and head in the direction of the barracks, passing by the dark offices and other buildings that are seemingly empty for the night. It’s late so there are not many places he can be and soon you can see them come into view. That is when you catch a figure leaning against the brick, the light from a cigarette glowing orange dimly in the shadow and you know you have him.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” you spit the venom-filled words to him as you come to stand at his side, arms crossing tightly across your chest as you stop.
The lieutenant ignores you, keeping his face straight ahead as he brings his cigarette up to his lips, ignoring your presence like you aren’t even there as he takes a long drag. The audacity he has to disregard you completely after all he’s been up to behind your back makes your blood boil over and you react fast. Instantly you reach out and rip the dwindling cig out of his fingers to flick it angrily to the ground; only then does he acknowledge your existence.
“Don’t know what your fuckin’ on ‘bout princess,” he grumbles as he pulls out the pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and takes out another cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lights it up and takes a few short puffs to get it going. 
Christ, did you fucking hate when he calls you that, all condescending and shit and he knows it too. That’s why he always uses it, just to watch the way it makes your skin prickle and your pulse race as it riles you up…just like it’s doing right now.
Your cheeks are burning red hot with your anger and you know by the feeling alone that it is visible even in the low light. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you accuse. “Thought you could ruin my fun and I would just never hear about it, did you? Well, guess what, I did. Guess you didn’t intimidate the guy back at the bar as good as you thought ‘cause he told me all about how you threatened him into staying away from me and now things around here are starting to make sense.”
So, pretty boy talked after all that scaring he had done; fucking hell, he wasn’t planning on being found out tonight. He can’t deal with this right now; he needs to get away before this gets out of hand. “I’m not doin’ this right now,” he mutters as he flicks away his second cigarette and begins to walk off.
You are right on his heels. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” you say as you quickly follow him as he takes off inside to a random room not far from the entrance. You barely register anything about the place, only caring about making sure you are on the right side of the door so he can’t lock you out until you’ve said your peace. 
Slamming the door, you press your back up against it. There is nowhere for him to go, not with how you are blocking the exit and it is clear that you won’t be leaving. Goddammit, why tonight? The lieutenant isn’t drunk, but he still has enough liquor running through his veins and he is weary of being alone with you.
You aren’t going to let him be, though; your anger won’t let you. “Well, you got anything to say or are you going to stay silent like a fucking coward?” you ask pointedly.
His fist at his side clenches and unclenches to match his jaw beneath the mask. Gasoline and fire; he can’t stop himself from matching your energy. “Fine, ya wanna know the truth? It was me. You’re distractin’, sergeant,” he says, that heavily accented voice harsh with his assertions. “Throwin’ yourself ‘round like a bloody slag ‘tween the men here and at the bar. Ya like that? Being a cheap piece a meat? Ya think that’s a good look for your rank on this team, hmm?”
You shake your head with a forced incredulous laugh before turning your gaze back to him. The only person who is ever allowed to make decisions about your actions is you; whatever you choose to do or not do isn’t up for debate with any outside party. “What I do on my own time is none of your goddamn business. If I want to screw every member of this operation, I will. If I want to fuck a rando from the bar, so be it. It’s my choice and you need to stay out of it.”
It’s a lie, you have no intention of becoming some barracks bunny, but that doesn’t make the point any less true. There’s nothing wrong with a little companionship from time to time and you aren’t going to let him take that from you. This job is hard enough as it is. Still you can’t shake the question that is floating around in your head.
Why does he care so much to go to all this trouble? Why not just stay away?  
The Lt. peers down his nose at you, those striking amber eyes looking at you through the opening in his balaclava to give him a dangerous appearance as they are cloaked in shadow. Standing in front this beast of a man has left many shaking in their boots, but not you, never you. Fuck him if he thinks this bit of intimidation is going to do anything; it’s not.  
“It is my goddamn business,” he growls. “Ya talk a big fuckin’ game, but ya don’t know what the hell your doin’. Gonna get yourself in trouble one a these days.”
“Oh, so you’re just looking out for me is that it?” you ask. “I don’t need a savior. I can take care of myself, you know.”
Even he can’t deny that you can handle whatever it is that comes your way. He has worked beside you for quite a while now and there is a reason you were selected to this task force in the first place. No, it isn’t his need to protect that causes him to put himself where he doesn’t belong, but he can’t face the truth; he can’t…can he?  
“Besides, what the hell do you care, Lt.?” you spit the question harshly into his face to break him out of his thoughts. “Just like to screw with my life as a part of some goddamn powerplay? You got nothing else better to do than fuck everything up? Pathetic, even for you.”  
The lieutenant’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes are silhouetted within the confines of his mask silently stare back into your own. There is a glint in their depths, a catch of the light that makes them glisten as he locks your vision in that stoic glare.
“Watch your fuckin’ tone there, princess,” he warns as he moves in closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly touching. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna get fuckin’ burned. Ya best quit it now or else.” 
Taking your pointer finger, you lean forward and poke the tip of the digit directly onto his sternum over his t-shirt and push down. “Make me.”
Hearing those two deadly words come from your mouth while being this close with emotions this high makes his brain short-circuit and he scrambles to get control of the thoughts at the back of his mind; no, he can’t let them get out. For a split second you catch a flash of something in his gaze that gives you pause and leaves you with a strange but familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach before it is gone just as fast as it came on. 
Flustered and confused, you don’t notice that his hand has moved from his side until it is wrapped around your wrist as he wrenches yours off his chest and smacks it against the door, pinning it there next to your head. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now,” he threatens as he gets into your face. “Keep it up and see what happens.”
The lieutenant is so close now the sensation from the warm air leaving his mouth is felt against the lower half of your face even through the fabric of his mask. You can smell the bite from the tobacco and liquor as he exhales a weighty, ragged breath. There is a curious tension permeating the space now, filling the area around your bodies until your chest begins to ache with anticipation for something you can’t put into words.
What are you wanting to happen? You aren’t entirely sure you want to admit it, but still there is a growing impatience that makes your limbs tingle as you wait for the moment to break. “You’re not going to do shit,” you scoff. “I haven’t been touched in fucking months and it’s all your fault; you think I care about showing you respect? The way I see it, you have two options: either leave me the fuck alone or I make your life a waking nightmare until you do.”
Why aren’t you shoving him away? Your wrist is still gripped in his fist and yet you haven’t even tried to free it. Sure, your words are ruthless and heated, but you’re still here and he doesn’t understand what is happening. The atmosphere is shifting and he can feel it like a perplexing magnetism, a push and pull that he is finding harder and harder to fight off. He needs you to leave and quickly as he isn’t sure how long he can last under this growing torment.
“Ya best get out, now,” he growls under his breath. “It ain’t a good idea for you to be here anymore.”
His threat does little to make you back down and instead you tilt your head with a cocky smirk on your lips. “Why’s that? Can’t take the fact that someone can actually stand up to you?”
“Not that,” he says curtly.
“Then what?” you push him for the answer.
Lt. Riley stays closemouthed to your question. How the hell is supposed to answer that when your pulse is pounding through your veins and he can count the rapid beats through his palm that is around your wrist?  He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves the feeling of it. 
The silence is heavy and dangerous, too much and you aren’t sure what is going to happen, but you can’t leave with nothing; one of the many questions you have has to get a response at least. “Fine, you don’t want to answer that one I’m not gonna make you, but if you want me to leave you are going to have to give me something. I’ll go back to my original question: why do you care about any of this?”
The lieutenant is suffocating on the strength of the tension shared between you. It’s intoxicating, more than the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. Try as he might, he can’t stop himself from wanting more and suddenly the fingers on his free hand are lightly grazing along the waistband of your jeans in that sliver of space between your shirt and your pants where just a millimeter of skin can connect with his touch. It’s too late for him now; he can’t let you go.
Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat at the electricity of the contact. The longer his touch lingers on your body the more disoriented your thoughts become until you aren’t sure what is happening. You desperately want to slap him, shove him off and storm out, but a secret part of you that has started to glow like a tiny ember in your chest quietly begs for him to keep going. 
Why can’t you tell him to stop?
“I can’t let anyone get to ya,” he murmurs with a labored inhale. “Don’t care what it costs.” Those hazel eyes with their blown out pupils never break the connection with yours as his fingers draw a line over your warm, soft skin and suddenly it’s near impossible to pull in enough air to keep you sane.
“Why?” you ask. “Hate to see me enjoying myself? Just want to keep me miserable, is that it?”
Those rough, thick fingers risk a bit more as they slip ever so slightly up so that his palm can rest against the meat of your hip and that’s where he stops. His gaze drifts down just a moment to admire how far his touch has gotten. This is the closest you both have ever been in the time you’ve known each other and it is overwhelming.
A shift in his stance, a half step in closer, his hand still resting against that soft, balmy flesh, and is that the pounding beat of your heart you hear pulsing in your ears? You need him to say something, anything, in hopes that it will break the spell that is making you more delirious by the minute.
“Say it!” you demand as you wrestle with the flood of sensations.
His eyes drift back to your face. “ ‘cause,” he says, that gruff, masculine voice making his words firm, “if I can’t fuckin’ ‘ave ya, then no one can.”
The confession knocks the wind from your lungs and you struggle to intake a breath. This has to be a new game he’s playing at; that’s it, a new tactic to make you lose your shit and destroy you in new ways. There’s no way he is serious, right?  You study his gaze for any sign of deception, for him to crack and mock you for falling for it, but all that meets you is a fervent stare that makes your body burn.
“Fucking bastard,” you snarl as your resolve to break away from him slips silently away.
“Slag,” he responds.
A few seconds drag on into eternity as you stare back into those dark eyes, your heartbeats racing  faster and faster with each labored breath you intake from one another. This isn’t how this is supposed to go, you are supposed to hate each other, but is that really what it is?
You’re the only one who has always treated him like a person, not some monster to be feared. It’s true you fight and bicker and drive each other mad at times, but not once have you ever backed down from him. You’re headstrong and steadfast in yourself and that is something he respects. And more than that, he desires. 
His words, why do they sound so good? If it was anyone else you would have slapped them silly and told them to fuck off, but the way he covets you feels like ecstasy. You enjoyed his attention before and now that you have all of it, it’s all you could ever want. There is an ache in you now that can only be quenched one way and that is from him.
The adrenaline coursing through his veins blurs that thin line between hatred and desire until it no longer exists. As if another is piloting his body he cannot stop. All at once something snaps and before you can fully comprehend the action, he is shoving his body into yours as his hand wraps around your throat. A wall of massive, bulky muscle presses tightly into your curves, pinning you to the surface as he wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips and grabbing your face between his hands, those large, rough things that have more experience holding a weapon than something soft and tender within them, he meets your mouth with an insatiable intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.
Things you’ve both buried deep rise to the surface as the dam breaks wide open, feelings that you both had suppressed under the guise of hatred because you couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t admit that maybe there was something there. It all comes pouring out into the kiss with a feverish urgency as you unsuccessfully scramble to contain them. 
There is no restraining this fire of desire from catching you both ablaze. 
Lt. Riley’s grip is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn as the brunt of his need is forced upon your lips until they sting the harder he presses into you while the stumble along his jaw pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth. The taste of the bourbon that he had been imbibing all night is on his breath, crisp and sharp as it hits your tongue with its bite, but it does nothing to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace and matching it with your own.
You want him tighter against you still and your hands run up the back of his head through the cropped bits of hair that have popped out from below the edge of his pulled up mask. The feeling of your fingers running through the short hairs near his neck as you bear down on his mouth make that hulking military man shudder and you sigh delightedly into him at the reaction. 
Is it really that easy to make that big man fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him.
Strong fingertips jab themselves into your hip so that he can pull your pelvis flush against his while he shoves his boot between your feet to pry your legs apart, widening your stance so that he can fit his bulky thigh between them. The curve of your hip is accentuated by the position and he runs a heavy hand across the length of it as he pushes up against your pussy and you both gasp into each other’s mouths from the feeling.
That instant pressure against that gnawing ache in your clit has you grinding on his thigh. “Christ, Simon,” his name falls from your lips onto his while you cling to his neck to hold your body up as you push down on him as hard as you can to get enough friction through your clothing. He lets you have at it, using his leg however you see fit until you can feel the gathering moisture in the crotch of your panties.
“Do you even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he growls, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tastebuds as he shoves his tongue into your mouth past your lips to meet your own so that they can dance.
He has a taste for you now, a craving that cannot be quenched, an insatiable hunger that eats him alive. And he needs more.
Catching your bottom lip, he sucks it in between his teeth to give it a fierce nip that smarts, but you like the pain; it only makes you feel more alive as the aggressive nature of your attraction makes you feel like you are drowning. 
“Fuck, need it now,” you demand desperately. “Where can we go?”
The question makes him pause and Simon pulls from your mouth to look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. “Ya know where we are, dontcha?” he teases.
Your eyes drift from him and really look at your surroundings for the first time since you got in here; you are in a bedroom, not just a random room like you thought. There is a small chest of drawers beside a bed not far from where you stand and on top is laying that familiar hard shell skull mask. 
You’re in his room.
“Shut up,” you breathe. “Just fuck me already, bastard.”
“So fuckin’ nasty,” he says with a smirk before he is back on your mouth again.  
Coarse hands desperately paw at your clothes as softer ones claw at his, undoing buttons, pulling off shirts, shoving down pants; a flurry of lips caressing while limbs frantically move until both of you stand bare naked before each other. The last is his mask that he removes himself; he is about to be inside of, there is no need to hide from you anymore.
You barely have time to take in his striking features: that strong jaw accentuated with old, faded scars, that prominent nose, that stern brow, before two strong arms pick you up and carry you the few short steps to his bed, forcing you down and shoving you onto your back so that you are pressed down against the surface as he clambers on top with you. His hands part your legs like warm butter and he keeps them spread as he positions himself on his knees between your thighs.
Quickly he leans over to the short chest of drawers and flings open the bottom most one, reaches inside, and grabs a small, square packet. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he brings it to his lips and grabs it with his teeth, shredding the top to pull out the rubber. He tosses the packaging to the floor and in one swift motion, slips the condom over the fat tip of his girthy cock and rolls it down the long shaft.
That is it, without another sound he sits back up and clenches his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers hold onto the meat of your hips as he makes sure he is aligned with your entrance. “Ready, princess?” he asks through short, quick breaths.
Your hands grip into his shoulder blades. “Stop fucking talking and get inside me,” you order aggressively. 
The tip of his cock is prodding against your opening and you are panting with anticipation as you wait to feel it break through the threshold. It’s right there, right at the point you need it to be to give you the relief you’ve been seeking after the months of agony during your dry spell. Then all at once Simon’s hips rock forward and the head slips inside, stretching you wide open.
You gasp and buck your hips as he gathers the strength for another thrust to slip it in a little more; you are taking him so well. God, he could not ask for more. One more strong thrust and his cock rips into you deep until he reaches the base, bottoming out with a loud, guttural moan.
“N-nh… ah…” Simon groans as he twitches from the constriction around him. “Fuckin’ hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”
Breathing through the intense feeling of being stuffed full you roll your hips into him to send shock waves of ecstasy through his shaft and his head falls forward to hang limply as he attempts to calm himself enough that he doesn’t blow his load right here and now just from that initial contact. 
“Gimme a second,” he growls, but you shake your head. 
“No,” you say, “waited too long for this.”
You will be the death of him and what a fucking sublime death it will be. 
Fine, if you want fast and rough that is what you are going to fucking get. He holds on tight as he begins to pound into you hard, making you bounce with the force of his thrusts up and down as he takes you at this unyielding pace. You are anything but fragile and he uses that to his advantage to be as animalistic as he wants.
The longer he drills his cock into you in that relentless tempo the more lost in the feeling he gets until he is completely ravenous only for the sensation of your body. He has waited so long for this, dreamt endlessly of this, yearned in secret for months for this, and it feels exhilarating to finally have it.
His primal grunts fill the room the harder he gets and you are suddenly swept up in it all as your needs are finally being met. You lose yourself in the moment, whimpering and whining as the euphoria washes over your body to make your limbs tingle. Soon you are so loud that you are surely going to draw unwanted attention. 
Reaching out his fingers find your lips and roughly he pries them apart so he can shove two of those thick digits inside your mouth. “Keep quiet,” he grunts as he continues to thrust. “Don’t need anyone hearin’ us before I’ve finished with ya.”
Getting you quiet, he needs something for himself and he knows just the thing. Leaning down over your body, his hot mouth latches on to the side of your throat just below your ear and you feel the sharp sting as his teeth dig into the supple flesh. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up further into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. A token of who has claimed you.
And he is going to make sure it sticks.
It is a while before he unlatches his mouth and when he does he brings his lips up from your throat to your ear to fill your mind with only his voice as his hand finds the top of your pussy so that his finger can stroke over your clit. You’re gonna come and you’re gonna come hard if he has anything to do with it. “Look at ya, fallin’ apart just for me, princess. God, I wanna fuckin’ ruin ya.”
Simon pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that he can kiss your raw lips, making you swallow all his desperation until you are gasping for air. “I’d do whatever it takes just have ya all to myself,” he says, the words husky in his throat as he groans them into your mouth. “Need ya to belong to me and only me.”
Simon leaves your mouth to sit up higher, taking the pressure off his knees and pulling your body up slightly with him, and that’s when he catches a glimpse of your bodies at the point of their union and fuck is it a beautiful sight. The way he disappears inside of you is mesmerizing and he doesn’t want to look away, but he also needs you to see it. You need to know how both your bodies are made for each other.  
His hand moves to the back of your neck and tilts your face down. “Look at how well your gorgeous body takes me. Do ya think anyone else can give ya this?” 
Your dreamy gaze drifts lower between both of your bodies and stares at Simon’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles as they contract and release with each thrust, his hips plowing into you, filling you up completely as each of his thrusts go down to the very base of his shaft. Your mind is in a daze as you feel him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again before his shaft reappears covered more and more with your juices over the condom.
There is something so primal about watching his cock slip in and out of your tight body, watching as you slowly fall into oblivion. 
His amber eyes catch yours and he smirks. Your cheeks are flushed bright and it thrills him to know that it is because of how he makes your body feel. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a picture wrapped ‘round my cock like this,” he groans, his strokes becoming more sloppy as the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt get louder. 
The longer he thrusts the more his sanity wanes until there is not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he comes. You can see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrills you more as he becomes a hunter ready to catch his prey; it makes you shiver.
“Ya like the way my cock feels inside ya, dontcha?” he asks in a low growl. “Fillin’ ya full, stretchin’ ya out. Ya think anyone else can give it to ya like this? Ya think anyone else is gonna make ya come as hard as I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya? This pussy is gonna belong ta me after I’m done with it.”
Ragged, broken moans escape your lips while your hips rut up to meet him at the height of each thrust as his voice begins to push you over. Your hands around his shoulders tense and as he strikes into you again your nails dig in, raking across his back in angry red lines that tingle and burn as you drag them down over his muscles. Oh, you are definitely close. 
“Ya gonna come for me, princess?” he teases mercilessly, desperately clinging to you as he too is about to spill and wanting you to go first. “Do it then. Come on my fuckin’ cock.”
The way this beast of a man is wrapped around your body, you are completely at his mercy, his size letting him do with you as he pleases and you have no say whatsoever. And yet here he is furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingertip strokes at your clit; he is doing his utmost to get you off even though he could leave you high and dry at any moment. 
Never have you ever wanted someone to take away your power more than you want him to right now.
Your hands leave his body only to gather in the sheets, gripping them so tight you can hear threads popping and feel the strain on your fingers. Each slam of that throbbing cock into you causes the warmth to grow in your stomach, each second that passes the pressure gets stronger and stronger. Finally at long last, you fall completely silent and with a few more desperate thrusts that pressure is released and shoots through you white hot as you come hard and fast.
Simon continues to grind into your pussy through your whimpers as he lets himself go and within a few more seconds he too is falling over that ledge, his torso shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he pumps all that built up frustration into the tip of the condom inside you. His hips buck and are punctuated with deep groans until he has nothing left to release and he slowly comes to a stop, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs to help him catch his breath again.   
You both stay locked that way as you calm yourselves back down from the high, your legs trembling around his waist, the sound of his inhales the only thing to break the quiet that falls over the room. Once he is able to he pulls out and falls down onto the bed beside you. 
Moving onto your side, you look over at him with a smirk. “Well, shit, never would have expected that,” you mutter sleepily.
He turns his head to face you. “Is that right?” he asks in that low, gravely tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “As if you haven’t been flauntin’ yourself to keep my attention. Was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“Like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes for months now,” you push back. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me.”
Reaching out his arm, his fingers lock into your hair, tying it into a ponytail in his grip before he gives it a strong tug. “Yeah well we’re gonna change that. Cause I wanna be the only person ya look at, princess,” he says harshly so you know he means business, “the only one that holds your attention, the only that gets ta be in your ‘ead. I’m gonna be the only one that gets between your legs and no one else; I wanna be the one that knows just how ta make ya fall apart. And any bastard that tries to get in my way is going to fuckin’ get it.”
You chuckle. “Possessive much,” you say snarkily only to receive a solid tug on your hair. 
“Absolutely gonna be selfish with ya,” he returns as he brings your face in closer, “cause I would rather fuckin’ die than watch anyone else take this away from me.”
Pulling your head to him, Simon licks the smile from his lips before latching onto your mouth one last time. Maybe you two can find common ground after all…can’t be too mad at each other when you’re making each other orgasm.
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lix-ables · 10 months
Text
ʚ : TURNING SKZ ON WHILE MAKING OUT ₊̣
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note. helloooo !! please take this as a mini filler while i write skz + bondage, skz + corruption and god knows what else . enjoy !! ( based on an ask i got for hyunjin, decided to do it all for the members !! )
mdni, smut includes – making out duh, leaving lipstick stains on them, grinding, marking, handjobs, cockwarming thats it ig . (wc 1207)
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B.CHAN … either you’re on the couch or on the floor with him leaning against the couch while you’re on his lap. his fingers are in your hair, and that's how he tugs you close before leaning in to kiss you. what would start off as something innocent, would actually turn into chan having his hands all over you, his fingers caressing your skin, or slipping them inside your shirt to feel you up, obviously being very subtle about it. that is until you grind up against him, your hips brushing his crotch and he lets out a sigh before pulling away from you to look at your face. “what?” you frown a little, your eyes following chan’s as he points to his now forming boner. “i didn’t m-mean to!” “it’s alright love, it just means i don't have to deal with this alone?”
L.MINHO … from the very start, minho can’t get his hands off you, exploring every inch of your skin, before pulling you against him so you can feel his dick through his sweats. “guess i missed you a little too much today,” he mumbles between kisses, his hand fumbling to shut the door close. your nails dig into his shirt when he moves to your neck, tugging your sweater to expose a bit of your shoulder. his kisses trail all the way from your lips to your neck and finally rest on your shoulder. “so fucking gorgeous,” he smiles against your skin when your hand reaches to cup his boner over the sweats and you whine when he pressed into your hand a bit more. “you gonna do something about that?”
S.CHANGBIN … changbin did NOT expect to get turned on so quickly, but from the moment you climbed onto his lap, to the second your fingers trailed and traced every bit of his chest, he felt goosebumps. his hands were at your lower back within seconds pulling you close to him, only for you to lean close to his face, a smile resting on yours before pressing a single kiss to his lips. changbin deepened the kiss before you could even pull away, his hand now cupping your face, moving down to wrap his fingers around the back of your neck, until you find something poking from under you. “fuck im sorry,” changbin breathes to your neck, as he moves forward to press kisses to your neck. “sorry about …?” “my dick,” he laughs, nuzzling his nose to your skin.
“we can stop if you –” “do you want –” you and changbin start to say at the same time before he urges for you to continue. “i was gonna ask if you wanted me to help you, because..” you whisper to his lean when you lean in close, your hips moving against his clothed cock which changbin decided really wasn't helping, “…it’s clear that your dick loves this.”
H.HYUNJIN … make out sessions with hyunjin could last hours if you both wanted it to – which leads you to right now. you’re sitting in front of him, his lips swollen from kissing him, hair so long and messy now that they covered his eyes a little, his sweater hanging off one shoulder exposing the part of skin that you had earlier marked, along with the reddish marks on the side of his neck and collarbone. the corner of his lips was smeared with your dark lipstick, and he lets out a sigh which came out as a pant. “fuck.” he mumbles to himself like he couldn't believe what just happened. “fuck is the right word to describe it..” you start, moving to him once again, your hand accidentally brushes his crotch, and you feel him twitch a little under your touch, and he shifts in his place on the couch. “did you..” “don’t finish that sentence,” he warns, eyes glaring at you just as you continue, “like that? you definitely did, oh my god.”
H.JISUNG … make out sessions with jisung are the complete opposite compared to hyunjin’s – they’re sloppy and messy and heated. which leads you to currently having your fingers reaching inside his sweats to bring out his dick, your thumb caressing the tip as you lean in to continue kissing jisung. his lips are swollen now, and so are yours – a bit more red compared to his but as you pull away, you notice his face now littered with your lipstick stains and he chuckles at your expression. jisung’s fingers rest around your wrist, helping you stroke him, before you squeeze it a little, your grip tightening around his length, and you earn a moan from the boy in front of you. “fuck do that again,” he mumbles, his hand reaching to tug on your hair.
L.FELIX … “baby we have a long day tomorrow,” felix starts to say when you lean in to kiss the corner of his lips, trailing those kisses all the way to his neck, staying there a bit longer than intended. you know he’s given in when he has his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, and he mumbles how pretty you looked. you wrap your leg around his, tangling them together, when you accidentally brush your thigh against his dick, and he lets out a low groan that gets you wet immediately. “i-im sorry!” you start, but felix just reaches for your hand, resting it against his crotch with a smile on his face. “you just need to finish what you’ve started, don’t you love?”
K.SEUNGMIN … not the type to get turned on that quick, but when you start grinding against him, seungmin helps you out. his hands rest on either side of your thighs, teasing you once or twice by thrusting his hips into yours, mentioning how you started it when you begin to whine and protest. “you’re the one doing this to yourself, baby,” he starts, while also shifting under you to get more sounds out of you. “im merely just… complying to what you want – to tease me, hm?” seungmin would in turn tease you just because he can, and also that its his way of trying to distract himself from knowing the fact you’re turning him on while you’re making out.
Y.JEONGIN … definitely would NOT waste time when he knows what he wants – which is why you’re in the situation that you’re in right now – in jeongin’s living room, on his couch, cockwarming, while he scrolls on his phone. god forbid he takes a selfie with you right there, because, after the make-out session you had, your face pretty much looked fucked out. “you are at fault here,” he mumbles into your neck when you whine at him thrusting his hips into you twice, your walls clenching around his cock. “who pounced on me?” “no one fucking pounced on you!” you start when he interrupts you with a kiss on your lips. “well you started grinding against me, offered me a blowjob and also make me give in to this,” he smiles, pointing at the way your body is pushed up against his, your nails digging into his skin which you knew would leave some marks soon.
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🎮 . taglist . @telesvng @starlostseungmin @chrisbahng @comet-falls @niijo @chvnnie @joonszn @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @hwan-g @idek-at-thispoint @es-kay-zee @writerracha @lethallyprotected @lino-jagiyaa @zoiescastle @compersian @jilixcuddles @teaspeungmin @eulaenthusiast @chriscentric @iadorethemskz @abcdefgiwsmcty @l3visbby @yukichan67 @hoshologies @zee17 ( green and bolded means i cant tag you ! this maybe has something to do with your visibility, which you can change in your settings ^^ )
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© lix-ables. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.
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m-ayo-o · 5 months
Text
big brother choso
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18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT as with all my posts + entire blog thanks <3 ~gross smut ! stepcest, sister is written kinda immature but obvs over 18, fingering, sexxx
Big brother Choso, who always comes home late and exhausted- all he wants to do is take his hair down and run himself a bath.
Big brother Choso, who didn't realise his step sister was still awake until you tiptoe into the bathroom, seeing him stripped naked and plunging into the hot water.
You look so excited as you ask him~
"Choso, Choso, big brother, can I come in too?"
Big brother Choso, who at first refuses to let you in the bath with him after what happened last time. He tried so hard not to touch you, but the way your legs spread open just invited him to rub up your thighs to find your clit, telling you he wants to make you feel good.
"No, little sister. Would you like to wash my hair instead?"
Big brother Choso, who hates to see his sweet sister disappointed, so he lets you wash his hair and after some more begging, he caves and allows you into the tub.
Big brother Choso, who watches you take off your skimpy pyjamas, revealing your womanly figure as you sink into the hot, bubbly water with him. Although you're a couple of years younger than him, he thinks he could learn so much from you; from your body. He sighs with relief, feeling your warm back pressing up against his chest.
Big brother Choso, who holds you still to stop any of your mischief- he knows you fidget and wiggle like that on purpose.
Big brother Choso, who gets flustered when you ask him so sweetly~
"Please, Choso, will you clean me?"
Big brother Choso, who gives in to your whining and helps to wash you, massaging the soap over your body.
Big brother Choso, who only wants to look after his sister, but you can't help but take advantage of his kind and confused demeanor. You lead him on, guiding his hands over your skin, to places where he really shouldn't be touching.
He's not sure if it's wrong. It's not as if you're related directly, from the same womb. He's just always cared for you- and now you're older, he supposes it's ok... to grab at your boobs a little, under the guise of cleaning you there, then slip his big hands down your tummy, gently parting your legs.
Big brother Choso, who hums softly in your ear when he accidentally brushes his fingers over your folds.
"Big brother, that's my-"
"I need to clean you there, too."
He tells you that's what good big brothers do for their sisters.
"O-ok, like last time?"
"No, a little different."
This time he needs to get inside you. He teases your entrance then slowly slots his fingers in, feeling your hot and wet fluid coat up to his knuckles.
Big brother Choso, who groans when you start rubbing against his cock to the rhythm of his gentle pumping, till he's rock hard and sliding up your back.
"Big brother, what's that?"
Big brother Choso, who knows you're only pretending to be naïve. You've seen his cock like this before; all hard and leaky. You know what it means.
"Sister, just stay still."
He keeps fingering you and touching your little clit till you're crying for your big brother to make you finish. You just need that release... but he needs it too.
"Sister, do you trust your big brother?"
"Y-yea I do~"
"Ok, let me do something for you-"
Big brother Choso, who's losing himself now... telling himself that it's okay, kidding himself that you won't hate him for this... sliding his fingers out to replace them with his cock.
It's so much bigger, you let out a yelp. He struggles and you're crying and whimpering that you've never done it and it hurts and you don't know if big brothers really should be doing this with their sisters.
But he tells you it's okay and wraps you up in his arms, pulling you down till his fat tip is kissing your cervix.
Big brother Choso, who doesn't notice the water getting lukewarm now his body is burning up from using you like a fleshlight.
"I'm helping you, sister. I want you to know what it's like- with boys, before you leave me."
"I, I have to leave?"
"No, no," he kisses your neck and shoulders, "if you love big brother just stay here with me."
Big brother Choso, who's afraid his step sister might get fed up with his perverted tendencies one day... but he knows, now his cum is starting to surge and spurt out into you, that you're his for now.
"Little sister, I have to clean you again- oh, I've made such a sticky, wet mess inside you, I'm sorry-"
"It's okay Choso, w-will you clean me with your tongue?"
"Yes, little sister, bend over and show me- oh that pussy is stuffed full- oh, so pretty, let me, let me- mmhnn~"
Big brother Choso, who is so glad to know you're not innocent at all, and that perhaps you're quite perverted like him.
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jjk | m.list
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pathologicalreid · 11 days
Note
hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:
reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.
Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)
I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3
can you come get me? | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!
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Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.
It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.
The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.
JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”
Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.
“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.
It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.
Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.
Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.
JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.
Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.
Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.
Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.
Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.
Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”
There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.
“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.
Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.
You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.
His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.
“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.
Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.
After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”
“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.
A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.
She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”
Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.
Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.
A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”
“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”
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The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.
“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.
Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, “She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”
He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.
“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.
Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.
Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.
He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”
Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.
For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.
The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.
Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.
Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.
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You were silent.
As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.
In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.
Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.
While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.
Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.
The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.
A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.
“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.
Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”
He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”
Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.
The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.
“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.
While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.
Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”
“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.
Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”
Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”
Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”
The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.
Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.
He left that last part out of his message to your father.
As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.
A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”
Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.
“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.
Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”
Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.
Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.
You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?
He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.
Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.
The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.
“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.
Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”
Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.
“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”
Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.
Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”
“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.
Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.
He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.
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Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.
In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.
Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.
Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.
You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.
Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.
In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.
His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.
“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.
With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.
Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.
Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.
He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.
“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.
You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”
The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.
Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”
Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”
You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”
It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.
“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.
Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
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theemporium · 2 months
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[4.1k] as it would turn out, you were serious about your offer. and luke was serious about accepting. it was just going to take a while for his body to remember that this was a glorified business deal between friends and nothing more. and he was definitely okay with that. (smut)
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Stupidly, Luke didn’t think you were actually serious. 
In his head, the whole thing felt like a fever dream, starting from the moment he spilled his drink all over you leading to the moment you blatantly asked him if he wanted you to take his virginity. It felt like one of those weird dreams that made you wake up confused and bleary and unsure what year it even was, one of those dreams that linger in the back of your head for a few days before you eventually forgot about it.
Luke would have bet money on the whole thing being a weird dream that was haunting him if it weren’t for the fact he woke up one morning, a few days  after the party, with a message from you on his screen. 
cherry🍒: on a scale from one to ten, how likely are you to spill your drink on me again?
cherry🍒: also my place or yours? 
He stared at the messages for an embarrassingly long time, like he was staring at the proof the whole thing wasn’t some messed up dream in his head. Luke had spent the better part of the summer wondering what would have happened if he had asked for your number that night like Jack always teased him about, and now he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself with it being a reality. 
hockey boy: i cannot promise anything 
hockey boy: you are welcome to come to my place but jack will probably be here so…
hockey boy: he’s nosy 
hockey boy: and annoying 
Luke frowned at himself, finger hovering over the messages like he would have a chance to delete them before you saw them, all one after the other like he was twelve and didn’t care about double texting. Or quadruple texting. But before he could even try to hide his own embarrassment, you were typing again.
cherry🍒: my place it is then
cherry🍒: see you at seven ;)
He also didn’t care to admit how long he stared at that message before he dragged himself out of bed, trying to ignore the odd buzz itching under his skin. It wasn’t even nine in the morning and his head was already spinning.
Luke was thankful enough that it was still preseason, that there wasn’t a game he had to prepare for because he wasn’t even sure he could concentrate on anything but your messages. He had noted Jack giving him odd looks whilst they both got ready for training, giving him more space than usual as they moved around the flat (which was odd considering Jack was usually glued to his side and pissing him off whenever he got the chance). 
However, the overbearing older brother role didn’t completely disappear. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” 
“Yes, Jack.”
“You’re not sick or anything?”
“I’m literally fine.” 
“Because we can tell the trainers—”
“Oh my god, dude,” Luke groaned, sinking further into the passenger seat as he shot his brother a look. “I’m fine. Calm down. You sound like Quinn.” 
“Sorry for caring,” Jack retorted, his fingers tightening on the wheel before his shoulders sagged. “I’m your older brother and it’s your first year in the NHL. I just wanna make sure you’re doing alright, okay? The last thing I want is you having a shit rookie year.”
But the rest went unsaid. I don’t want you having a shit rookie year like I did.
Luke softened a little. “M’fine, promise. I’ll let you know when I need my big brother, okay?” 
Jack sighed, a small smile on his face. “Okay.”
“Now, can you please shut up so I can sleep until we reach the rink?” 
Jack snorted in response. 
Though the conversation seemed to settle the worries his older brother had, Luke knew the other boys on the team were giving him the same looks of concern. It wasn’t as though he was playing badly, it was just very clear to everyone on the team—players, coaches and trainers alike—that Luke was distracted. 
He had half the decency to be a little embarrassed when he overheard Jack reassure a few trainers that it was just rookie nerves. 
But he felt restless, like he couldn’t quite keep still or focus on one thing. He felt like there was a buzz resonating through his bones, making him painfully aware of his plans later tonight. It was like an anxiety settled at the pit of his stomach, constant and foreboding and eating away at him as the minutes slowly dragged on through the day. 
It was horrible and exhilirating in the weirdest possible way.
Luke had managed to make it through the rest of training, managed to avoid any stern talkings from the coach but unable to avoid the one from Nico in the locker room. It was sweet and awkward all at once, especially when the rest of the team were clearly listening in to make sure one of the new rookies were doing fine. The Devils were like a family and usually he would appreciate it. 
However, he wasn’t exactly going to dive into the fact he was unfocused because a pretty girl offered to take his virginity to his captain or the rest of the team. He didn’t even want to imagine how that would have played out. 
But it was sweet to know the team had his back, that they saw him as his own person rather than just Jack’s little brother who was tagging along.
Luke was relieved when you had mentioned him coming over to your place for your meeting later that day. Yet, what he failed to take into consideration was the fact his brother would still be a nosy shit on his whereabouts. 
“Where the fuck are you going?” 
Luke froze, keys gripped in his one hand and his phone in the other with your address already typed into Google Maps. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore his pounding heart as he turned to Jack with a (hopefully) nonchalant look on his face.
“Just going to hang out with some friends,” he replied vaguely with a shrug of his shoulders.
Jack paused, the spoonful of rice hovering just above his plate as he narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Is Nico hosting some rookie thing or something?”
“Uh no,” Luke cleared his throat.
Jack frowned. “Is there a team thing happening tonight that I forgot?” 
“No, uh,” Luke shuffled awkwardly, feeling like an interrogation spotlight was shining on him. “It’s nothing with the team.”
Jack raised his brows. “But you don’t have other friends outside the team.” 
Luke frowned. “Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t,” Jack retorted. “Unless you’re a part of a book club or something.” 
He shot his brother a confused look. “Why would that be the only reason I have friends outside of the team?”
“I don’t know, college and shit,” Jack answered like that explained something.
“You’re such a weirdo,” Luke grumbled before he turned on his heel, making his way towards the door again. 
“Are you at least gonna tell me when you’ll be back?” Jack called out to him, a hint of older brother overbearingness in his voice. 
“Not sure.” 
“I—” He heard Jack shuffle to stand up, his dinner now abandoned on the coffee table as he made his way over to Luke. The look of concern from earlier that morning was back on his face. “What dodgy shit are you up to that you can’t just tell me?” 
“Jack,” Luke groaned, his voice tilting towards whiny as he let out a huff of annoyance. “I’m just going out to see a friend. Nothing dodgy, I promise.”
Jack didn’t say anything at first, just letting a slow smile spread across his face.
He frowned. “What?” 
“Friend, singular,” Jack pointed out before he let out a bark of laughter, playfully punching his little brother’s arm. “Aw, little Lukey is sneaking out to hook up with a girl!”
His cheeks burned. “Shut up.”
“Fucking finally, I thought you were going celibate for your rookie year or something!” Jack continued to tease him. “Who is it? Do I know her? Oh my god, is it the girl from the party? Do you have a secret girlfriend?”
“I am leaving now!” Luke shoved him away, making a beeline for the door as Jack continued to cackle behind him. 
“Do I need to give you a curfew?” 
“Fuck off!” 
He could still hear Jack laughing when he slammed the door shut behind him.
His body felt like it was on autopilot once he got behind the wheel. He followed the instructions spoken through his GPS, kept his concentration on the road—on the journey—rather than the destination. He tried to pretend like he was just going to hang out at a friend’s, that he was back in Michigan going to one of his teammate’s houses he didn’t live with. 
It was fine. 
Everything was fine.
Except for the fact that once he reached your door, closed fist hovering over the wood, he felt like his body was buzzing too fast to keep up with and all the pent up anxiety over the day was about to make him explode. 
He didn’t even realise he had knocked until the door swung open and you stood on the other side, grinning at him like it was a normal Sunday evening. You were dressed cosy, casual even. Just a pair of leggings, a baggy shirt and some fluffy socks that had—ironically enough—cherries printed on them.
“You’re early,” you noted. 
Luke’s stomach dropped a little. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”
“I like my men eager, you’re fine,” you said as you waved him off, unaware of the fact your words just made his body feel like it was on fire for a whole other reason as you grabbed his hand and dragged him inside. 
His eyes wandered over your apartment, taking in the small knick knacks that decorated the place. It was smaller than his and Jack’s apartment, but it felt more homely. His place had a habit of looking a little clinical, like a showroom they had moved into rather than an actual home. But between training and travelling and not really caring, neither he nor Jack had bothered to change it. 
But, looking around at the small details of your apartment as you led him towards your living room couch, Luke found it endearing that he could see small insights into your personality.
“You still like Coke, right?” 
His eyes snapped back to you, a light blush on his cheeks when he found you staring at him with intent. “Uh yeah, Coke is good.” 
He settled down on the seat, awkwardly perched on the edge whilst you curled up in the sport next to him with your feet tucked underneath him. He tried to swallow the ball in the back of his throat, eyes wandering over the room once again before they landed back on you. 
“Your place is really nice—”
“Tell me about hockey.” 
Luke blinked. And then blinked one more time before he remembered to speak.
“What?”
“Tell me about hockey,” you repeated. 
“You want to know about hockey?” He questioned, his brows furrowed together and suddenly the panic he felt moments ago was overwhelmed by his confusion. 
“Well, no, I don’t really know anything about it,” you admitted with a shrug. “But you’re so tense over there like you’re about to enter the Hunger Games or something, I thought talking about something you enjoy would help you relax.” 
Something in his chest stirred at your confession. “Oh.” 
“Just relax,” you said as you lightly pushed him back until he was no longer sat on the edge of the couch. However, Luke’s body didn’t seem to catch the hint, something that was very clear with how tense he still looked sitting next to you. “We aren’t going to do anything tonight,” you assured him, your hand dropping to his forearm to give it a small squeeze. 
He didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “We aren’t?”
You shook your head, a soft but cheeky smile on your lips. “You need to build up your confidence a little, to really feel comfortable with everything. There’s more to sex than just sleeping with someone.”
He blinked. “There is?”
“Yes,” you laughed, but it wasn’t directed at him. He didn’t feel dumb for asking you questions. “So just take a breath and relax. Now, hockey—what’s the big deal?” 
Luke couldn’t help but snort. “The big deal?”
“Yeah, why do you like it?” You asked. “I mean, you love it enough to make it your job.” 
Luke smiled and there was something less heavy in his laugh—but hockey always tended to have that power over him. He knew hockey. He lived for hockey. It was as calming as it was exhilarating. It was what his whole world revolved around since the day he was born. 
“I come from a big hockey family,” Luke told you. “I could skate before I could properly walk, to be honest. It’s just something that’s always…been there. I couldn’t imagine my life without it.” 
“Do you enjoy it?” 
Luke raised his brows in surprise. “No, I just do it to torture myself.”
“Okay, smart-ass,” you rolled your eyes at the boy, and he tried not to think about how endearing the action was. “I mean, you said it’s been in your life forever. Do you enjoy it or is it just familiar?”
There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation before he answered.
“I love it,” he replied honestly, sinking a little further into the couch as he turned his head to look at you. “It was always there but I also always sought it out, you know? I wanted hockey as much as hockey wanted me.” 
“Lucky thing you were good enough to go pro, huh?” You remarked, a teasing glint in your words. 
Luke’s lips twitched upwards. “Yeah, lucky me.”
“So, do you, like, fight people and shit?” 
He snorted, the noise a little surprising but welcomed nonetheless. “Yeah, sometimes.” 
“Damn, the two hockey videos I watched before you came weren’t lying then,” you mused. 
And, fuck, his chest was doing that funny-tightening thing again. 
“You watched some videos before I came?”
“Colour me curious,” you answered with a casual shrug of your shoulders.
He swallowed. “Did you like what you saw?” 
Your lips pulled upwards into a smirk. “Flirting with me now, Hughes?” 
In an instant, Luke’s cheeks instantly burned a red shade with a mix of embarrassment and self-consciousness washing over him. “I’m sorry about that—”
“I never said I didn’t like it,” you interrupted, watching as his eyes widened a little in surprise. But the colour remained on his cheeks. It was cute, if you were being honest with yourself.
“Oh?”
“You’re not a shy guy, Luke, I’ve seen the way you are on the ice. You just need to bring that confidence off the ice too,” you told him, shuffling a little closer to him until your knee was almost brushing his thigh. “Think of this…what we are doing…as your training.” 
“My training?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded as your palm landed on his thigh, right above his knee. He was so painfully aware of your hand, of the way your touch felt like it was burning through the fabric of his sweatpants to touch his skin. “Gonna help you go pro.” 
His eyes darted down to your hand before it snapped back to your face. “Cherry—” 
“Can I kiss you?” 
He blinked. “You’re asking me?” 
“It’s sexy to ask,” you told him, your thumb lightly rubbing a small line just above his knee. You shifted a bit closer, watching the way his eyelids fluttered slightly. “Consent is really, really sexy.” 
“Really sexy,” he repeated, eyes locked in on your lips. 
“Can I kiss you?” You asked again, squeezing his leg a little to emphasise your need for him to verbally answer. 
“Yeah,” he managed to mutter out, a slight crack in his voice but you didn’t seem to care as you closed the distance between you.
Your palm was soft and warm against his cheek, guiding his head until you pressed your lips against his. It was a soft kiss, almost sweet in a way. And maybe something about the tenderness of it all washed away the unease in his chest, that lingering anxiety that he had been smothered in since he woke up. It was like the kiss washed away the lingering concerns in his head, the ones that told him this was some twisted dream or malicious ploy.
You just wanted to help, you wanted him relaxed when he was with you. 
And Luke had half the mind to trust you would do just that after the initial kiss. 
Your thumb slightly swept along the high of his cheekbone, soft and reassuring as he sunk further into the kiss. He seemed happy to let you take control, to let you decide how fast or passionate it was. He seemed happy to just follow. 
“Better than hockey training?” You murmured against his lips between kisses, the light smacking noises a vague echo in his ear but he didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
“Mhm,” he hummed as he ducked his head back down, eager to press his lips against yours again. 
“Impatient,” you teased but didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. “Feeling confident already, Hughes?” 
Luke could feel your smile against his lips. “Maybe.” 
“Good,” you stated simply and before he got the chance to realise what you were doing, before his brain had even fully processed you had asked him a question, your leg was thrown over his body and you were straddling his lap.
Luke pulled back a little, looking up at you with his cheeks flushed. “Oh.” 
“Remember, this is just your training,” you reassured the boy, though it was hard for him to focus on the words coming out of your mouth when your lips were red and kiss-swollen and probably a mirror image of his own. “Just practise, yeah?”
“Just practise,” he confirmed with a nod. 
“So practise,” you told him as you reached for his hands where they awkwardly hung at his side. You gripped his wrists, giving them a small squeeze before you rested them on your waist.
He swallowed. “Oh.” 
You raised your brows. “This good?” 
“Mhm,” he nodded.
“Luke,” you prompted until his glossy eyes found yours. “We can stop any time you want. Just say the word, okay?” 
“I don’t wanna stop,” he reassured you, his hands giving a testing squeeze on your waist. “Not right now, at least. Promise.” 
And when you smiled at him, he could have sworn his heart was about to beat right out of his chest. 
His chest was thudding with each racing beat, blood roaring in his ears and butterflies exploding in his fucking chest when you leaned down to kiss him again. It’s like his brain was locked in on you at this very moment, not a care or concept for the world beyond this apartment. It was just about you, you, you.
And then your hands were pushing through his hair, fingers tangled in his curls as you tugged his head back until the column of his neck was exposed to you. 
Luke was almost embarrassed of the whimpering noise that left his lips when you tugged on his curls, a dull but desirable pain coursing through his whole body before your lips explored his neck. His breathing was heavy, borderline panting as your teeth scraped along the sensitive spot just below his ear. And, fuck, he felt like his whole body was on fire. 
“Hmmm, pretty noises,” you murmured against his neck, wet and sloppy open-mouthed kisses pressed against his skin as his body squirmed beneath you. “You gonna keep making them for me, baby?”
He nodded.
“Yeah?” You nipped his skin lightly, almost teasingly, as his hips bucked up on instinct. “Keep moaning f’me, baby, let’s see what you like.”
His grip on your waist only tightened as you continued to explore his body, as you tried to find the spots that had him whining and panting beneath you. And just when Luke thought he had a hold on himself, when he could handle the way your hands felt in his hair and your lips on his neck, your hips slowly rolled down against his and he could feel a rush of pleasure race down his spine.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he choked out between broken moans, head thrown back against the back of the couch and eyes clenched shut. “Please. More.”
“You want more?” Your warm breath fanned against his cheek as you lifted your head, hooded eyes watching the way his face scrunched up in pleasure as you continued to rock against him. “Keep making those pretty noises, baby.” 
The whimper he let out made his cheeks and neck burn bright red. 
“Look at you,” you mused, the bulge in his sweatpants pressed against you as you continued to grind down on his lap. “Doing so well for me, telling me what you want.”
And it was too much. 
The constant stream of praise leaving your lips, the way your face was inches away from him—even if his eyes were shut—with your breath hot against his cheek. The way your hips rocked against his hard cock, the way it was straining beneath the boxers he was wearing. The way your fingers gave another experimental tug on his curls and he saw white. 
His grip on your waist was almost bruising with how tight it was, the way he held onto you as his hips bucked to meet your thrusts, the way your name left his lips on a loop as a hot flush of pleasure washed over his body, as you guided him through it. 
And once his brain had caught up—once he was sure his heart wasn’t going to jump out of his chest—he was painfully aware of the sticky mess in his sweatpants. 
“Oh my god,” he muttered, his whole body burning with embarrassment as he looked up at you. “I am so sorry—” 
“For what?” 
“I—” His eyes fell shut, his body wanting nothing more than to curl in on himself. “I’m sorry, that was embarrassing.” 
You frowned. “What was? The fact you came?” 
His stomach twisted a little.
“Luke,” you murmured, and he could feel your hands cupping his warm cheeks but he didn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet. “If I didn’t want you to come, I wouldn’t have been grinding on your dick like that.” 
He finally looked at you, but the hot shame remained. “You didn’t even…” 
“Get off?” You supplied and he looked sheepish as he nodded. “I can still enjoy something and find it hot without getting off, Hughes.”
His brows furrowed together. “I thought the whole point was that you were teaching me how to make you feel good. For womankind.” 
You snorted, grinning down at the boy. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get off too.”
Luke’s lips parted with a silent ‘oh’.
“I’ll grab you some sweatpants to change into,” you told him as you shifted off his lap, looking down at his flushed cheeks and dazed eyes. “You’re a good student, Hughes.”
He raised his brows. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned back at him, and his chest did that funny thing again. “And I wasn’t lying. You make pretty noises. I like my boys vocal.” 
And Luke was thankful you disappeared down the corridor after that, saving him from even attempting to come up with a response. 
And he was shocked that once he cleaned up as best he could in your bathroom, you patted the spot next to you on the couch and told him to choose a movie whilst you ordered in some food. 
It was almost laughable to think about how anxious he had been all day, only to lead up to him sharing a pizza with you with some old Jim Carey comedy playing in the background like you two really were just friends. Like you were just hanging out and enjoying each other’s company. Like you hadn’t just made him come in his pants like he was some wound up teenage boy. 
It made his head spin, in a good way. 
And when he was dragging his feet through the front door of his apartment a little after midnight, there was a voice in the back of his head that was telling him this was risky, that he shouldn’t have felt so giddy or jovial after he had seen you. 
You were just training him, helping him. You were just his friend. 
But, for right now, Luke was happy to ignore the logical voice in the back of his head and instead focus on the fact that maybe—just fucking maybe—you were right and this whole virginity thing was far more bigged up in his head than he realised. 
You were his friend. And he knew you were just his friend. 
Who cares if his body took a little longer to remember than his brain did?
.
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alisblackgf · 5 months
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okok hear me out.... yk the scene in s1 where the old guy (mr han i think) hugs hyun su and hyun su basically kills him with his monster wing thing what if reader took mr hans place and hyun su killed reader, but then reader comes back as a neohuman and they reunite in s2 (i hope this made sense pls im bad at explaining)
someone cooked here. LMAO anon you're a genius
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rememberance
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: cha hyun-su x gn!reader
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: hurt/comfort(?)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you died by his hands, and he never forgave himself for it. that was until he saw you standing alive and well in front of him.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i didn't know if i wanted to make it an established relationship or not, so that's up to you! also when i finished this i thought it was way longer than it actually was. hopefully you still enjoy it!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of death, blood, basically anything you'd see in sweet home
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"it's not your fault."
your voice echoed in his mind continuously. part of him wishes he could forget, the other part of him wishes it'd stay forever.
he remembered the way your arms wrapped around him, even when your skin was pierced by his wing.
"it's not your fault," you whispered, your grasp slightly loosening due to your injuries. you could feel yourself slipping away.
you used your final breaths to reassure him, relief taking over your features when his wing turned back into his arm, and the pure blackness of his eyes returned to the eyes you'd stare into with adoration.
once he fully processed the situation, he held you tightly and cried into you. you held him back for as long as you could, and once he felt your arms let him go, he cried harder.
he remembered how your lifeless body felt. the weight of you was still there, but everything else that made you you was gone.
it had been a year since it happened. he thought it'd get better with time, but it hadn't. he catches himself thinking about you more often than he should, but he can't—he won't—let himself forget you.
he didn't think that his determination to keep your memory alive would lead to hallucinations of you. was he hallucinating?
eun-yu stood next to him, and upon seeing you, she ran up to you and hugged you. you hugged her back and gave her a soft smile. she pulled away, and your gaze landed on him.
he definitely wasn't hallucinating.
he looked different than when you last saw him. his hair grew out a bit more, and you observed his shirt.
it looked cut up, and you could only assume it was from his wing. the same one that "killed" you. you winced at the memory, convinced you could almost feel the tears in your skin again.
you had changed, too, though. your hair was different, more suitable to the outbreak of monsters, and your choice of clothing was, too. it's not something he expected you to wear, but it looked good on you.
he walked towards you and you stood before him, unmoving, just as shocked as he was.
"hyun-su?" you reached out to touch his face, and once he felt your touch, he gave a shaky sigh and tears began to fall.
you wiped his tears and gently shushed him, pulling him into an embrace. he buried his face into your neck, mumbling apologies.
"i'm sorry," he cried into you, just like he did when your pierced skin leaked blood onto him.
"i know. it wasn't your fault." you held him tight, expressing that your grasp wouldn't falter this time, and you let him stay in your arms as long as he needed to, because this time, you weren't going anywhere.
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olivyh · 1 year
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Does nobody in this house knock?
A/N: I've had this idea in mind for a while, and I've been on an Obey Me kick recently- I love these boys so much and they're so fun to write for (although consistently including six/seven people in one story is a bit of a challenge). This is supposed to be read as platonic but could go either way tbh. GN mc as always loves <3
Slight TW: For nudity (nothing serious really happens MC is just taking a bath and the brothers don't know what privacy is)
The House of Lamentation had its ups and downs- of course, the place was massive, which came with a plethora of spaces to crawl into if you wanted a moment of silence or needed a pretty room to study in. The kitchen was just as spacious- you were sure you couldn't use up all the counter space if you wanted to. The architecture was gorgeous and you could stare at the paintings that littered the halls all day (you wouldn't dare, though, after being told that some of them dislike the attention and could curse you if you stare for too long). Similarly, your room was one of your favorite spots in the house (along with Asmo's bathroom, which you were one of the lucky few to get the privilege of using when he wasn't having one of his frequent spa days. You also enjoyed wandering around the mansion (which, sadly, you were banned from doing after getting lost in one of the never-ending hallways and ending up deep underground, leading you to tearfully call Mammon and a house-wide scramble to find you before another one of Levi's rogue pets did). 
The downs were, naturally, the lack of private time. Despite how big the house was, everywhere you went one of the brothers seemed to conveniently be heading in that same direction or even already in that room. Did you want a snack in the kitchen? Beel was three steps ahead of you, and already inviting you out to Madam Screams after he cleans out the fridge. Need to study in the library? Satan just so happened to be going there as well (did he not have enough in his room? You thought almost bitterly at the loss of your time). Wanted to nap in the planetarium? You trip over a passed-out Belphie (why was he sleeping in the doorway?) and end up with a bloody nose from the impact. Wanted to sit in the common room? Levi was already there, playing Devil Cart on what looked like the Devildom's version of a switch with Mammon. If you wanted to study at the dining room table, Asmo would find you and all but drag you to his room for an impromptu game of dress-up. You'd thought going to the eldest would at least leave you alone, opting to study in his office until he'd corrected you on your posture and the way your shirt was hanging loosely off one shoulder more than the other every time, occasionally asking you questions relating to your work and not-so-subtly correcting every wrong answer you'd made (even if you never fully finished the problem). 
The brothers, however, knew that one time of the week was off limits- Saturday nights. You would often slip away and claim the shared bathroom for hours at a time, lighting candles and filling the bath until it was just high enough for you to soak up to your shoulders in. Of course, this was met with very little resistance (especially considering that all seven brothers somehow shared one bathroom with one toilet, which always baffled you. Though, you were certain that Lucifer had one of his own and was neglecting to let the others know). It never clashed with the nights Beel would come back from the gym in desperate need of a shower, or the nights Asmo would stumble back to the house covered in lipstick stains and reeking cheap perfume, or when Mammon would return covered head-to-toe in mud from walking Cerberus. You needed your time, you had told them. And they'd obliged. So, you'd set up a small routine to relax.  
Which was exactly what you were doing. You slip out of your silk robe (gifted by Asmo, naturally) and take a step onto the stool. The shared bathtub was absolutely massive, and you had to shyly ask Lucifer if he had a stool you could use just so you didn't have to climb into the damned thing the first week here. At a distance, it looked normal until... you stepped closer and realized that it wasn't. Although, you supposed it made sense considering how large the brothers were, especially Beel. It was hard picturing him fitting into a normal-sized tub, especially remembering that he struggled to submerge himself fully in the one they already had. Chuckling to yourself, you gingerly lowered yourself into the warm water with a sigh as you feel the pressures of the day melt away into the bubbly water.
The candlelight is the only thing illuminating the room, and the soft sounds of the water splashing against the side of the tub is nearly enough to lull you to a soft sleep if you'd decided to give in to the temptation. The brothers seem to be quieter than usual as well tonight, as you would normally hear some kind of yelling while bathed in the silence of the bathroom. You gently kick your feet in the water and watch as the ripple shines in the gentle candlelight. 
The water in the Devildom had shocked you with its opalescent gleam the first time you'd seen it, worried about drinking it. It had reminded you of the colorful outline left from oil slicks in puddles after it would rain. You were relieved to learn that it wasn't toxic, now basking in the slight glow that it gave your skin and the way it soothed any aches that you had. 
It was the perfect night, but you'd regretted not grabbing a snack to keep with you, or a glass of Demonus to drink while you soaked (even though you wouldn't get drunk and it tasted more like a spicy grape juice, you still felt fancy).
"Oh my stars, hon, you would never guess what happened!" You're shaken out of your thoughts as Asmo's shrill voice rings through the open doorway He makes his way over to the bath, pulling up the chair that sat in the corner of the room and you try to hide your growing annoyance. He leans over the edge of the tub, teasing his fingers in the water and playing with the bubbles. "So I was at the Fall, right-"
"Asmo," You say, a quiet warning. 
"And he really thought he could get away with trying to get between me and this other guy! Like, how dumb could you be? So anyways I turned to him and-"
"Asmo!" The demon pouts, folding his arms on the warm porcelain and resting his head on them, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. "I'm naked."
"I'm aware," He huffs, pursing his lips. "I've seen you bare before, love. Even if I hadn't, your body is not unappealing." He winks and you feel your face heat up. "So back to what I was saying-"
"MC!" Another shout and you groan, sinking deeper into the bath. "You're never gonna guess what I just did! I won the horse races! Highest bet, baby!" Mammon pumps his fist in the air as he beams, mussed hair likely from nervously running his hands through it. 
"You're interrupting my story, you ass!" Asmo shouts. 
"This is more important than your dumb story, drama queen!"
"Mammon!" You grumble. "Bathing?" He doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues to pace around the room, recalling every small detail about the race. His keychain clicks against the chains that loop from his belt, the clinking ringing through the room and grating on your nerves even more. Asmo continues to mindlessly play with the bubbles, even raising a soft hand to place a small crown of bubbles atop your head. You take it as a quiet apology from the demon. 
"I finally finished the book you'd asked me about-" Satan, as perceptive as he is, seems to understand your harsh glare from within the bath as he walks confidently through the open door (courtesy of Mammon and his excited forgetfulness). "And I'm aware that this is your time but I simply could not wait another moment-" He sits beside Asmo, nearly pushing the smaller man off the chair. The latter gasps dramatically, rounded lips forming a harsh 'o' shape as he holds his hand over his heart, offended as ever.
"Hey! I wasn't done yet!" Mammon huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. 
"You are now," He sneers before slipping open his book, reading through various notes and post-its he left buried within the pages. "Now, this scene in particular really stuck with me, and I'd very much like to hear your thoughts on it. It's when the protagonist-"
"Mc," Another quiet, almost apologetic voice from the doorway. Beel stands, nearly taking up the entire entrance, with armfuls of chips as he empties a bag into his mouth and tosses it into the trash near the sink. "I felt like you were hungry, so I got you something to eat," He holds out another bag and you take it, sighing as you fumble to open it and dig in. 
"Thanks, big guy," He hums before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a still dejected Mammon, offering the older a bag as well. You don't have it in you to be annoyed at the gentle giant, and you were getting a little hungry, after all. 
"Anyways, back to my story-" Asmo begins, filling up the silence. 
"I didn't finish either," The second born growls through a mouthful of chips. 
"Finish eating, and Asmo, you were here first, you did your time and now it's my turn-" Satan shuts both of them down. 
"I wanna tell them about practice-" Beel interjects, moving on to another bag of chips. "I did a really cool move where-"
"Mc!" Another familiar voice joins the fray. "SoIwaswatchingthatshowyoutoldmeaboutandIthoughtitwasreallycoolandthere's-" Levi takes a gasping breath before continuing. "Areallyreallyreallycoolshowcaseonitinthehumanworldcomingupandweshoulddefinitelygo-"
"Levi, sweetheart, please breathe." You remind him, sinking deeper into the bath until it's just your eyes and nose peeking out from the surface of the water, glad that it muffles the sound a bit. 
"We should definitely go and wear matching costumes like the main characters and it'll be really cool and I already have an idea on how to make the props and it'll take a bit of time but we can definitely get it done in time and-"
"Ignore him," Satan sighs. "Anyways, I believe this scene is incredible I mean, did you see the wording in the second to last paragraph? It was so emotional I could hardly believe that he was faking it the whole time and-"
"My love, I never finished telling my story!" Asmo whines, pulling at your knee, which escaped from the water and is exposed to the chill of the air from when you sunk down further. "So then we ordered some Demonus, you know, as you do, and then this song starts playing and he comes back, so Solomon and I look at each other- you know that one look we share sometimes?- yes, that one, so we look at each other and then-"
"Hey, with all the money I just got, we should go shopping, yeah?" Somehow, Mammon had snuck around to the other side of the tub and started pacing on that side, grinning to himself. "I'll spoil ya rotten, I swear. Where do ya wanna hit first? We could go to Majolish, or we could hit that designer store up in the human world ya were tellin' me about-"
Beel continues to sit in silence, but his loud crunching is nearly deafening with all the noise the brothers are making, each of them unwilling to stop talking and wait their turn. 
"Mc-" A yawn. "Here you are-" Belphie stumbles, half-awake (and you weren't even sure of that, with how limbs moved ragdoll-like and the way his eyes were still closed.) "...was looking... everywhere..." He cuts himself with a snore before he falls forward and his stomach collides with the side of the tub, flipping over and landing in the water with you. 
"Belphie!" You shriek, fumbling to simultaneously get as far away from the still-sleeping demon as possible while trying to save him and while also trying to cover yourself from the eyes of the men in the room. 
"You're naked?!" Mammon screams, backing away until his back hits the wall. 
"HUH?!" You hear Levi wail before a thud sounds through the room and, if Satan's snort is any sign, you were sure he'd definitely just passed out and was lying unconscious on the cold tile of the bathroom. 
"Of course they're naked!" Asmo hums. "Who bathes with clothes on?"
"I don't care! Someone get Belphie out right fucking now!" You scramble up the side of the tub, feeling the rough fabric of his cardigan as he surfaces for air, still asleep as he hugs you as close to him as possible, burying his face- or what little you could see of it, with how his soaked hair conceals practically the entire thing- in the crook of your neck and wrapping his legs around your own (you grimace at the feeling of his wet sweatpants against you). Beel comes to your rescue as he attempts to pry his twin's arms off of you and apologizing every time his hands brush your exposed skin. Embarrassment heats your face as you try to squirm away, shouting at Mammon to grab you a towel as more and more water sloshes out of the tub, effectively soaking the pages of Satan's book and smearing some of Asmo's makeup. The former lets out an annoyed grumble as he curses the seventh for falling in and causing a scene in the first place while the latter gasps and rushes towards the mirror to assess the damages done, complaining about how perfectly his makeup was done today and now he was going to have to start all over-
Mammon rushes forward, towel in his extended arm as he slips on the spilled water with a yelp and sends himself flying into the tub as well, landing on top of Beel, who was still attempting to pry Belphie off of you. Beel, shocked by the impact, drops Belphie back onto you and is sent forward by Mammon's weight. Mammon follows close second, leaving you with three demons now in the tub as you try to shove all three off of you. It's difficult for them, as Beel is face-down in the water, his face wedged between your stomach and Belphies, with his legs bent awkwardly out of the tub and Mammon wedged between you and the wall, hands unable to find purchase as he's contorted and squished- not to mention that Belphie's legs had attempted to wrap tighter around your own and had successfully trapped Mammon's arm against your thigh and his face against the space between your shoulder blades, as well as further squishing his twin's face between the two of you. Both your hands are occupied with getting their heads out of the water so they could at least breathe, with two fistfuls of ginger locks and snow-white ones. 
"Everyone out, NOW!" Lucifer's voice rings from the doorway and the room is silent once more. The eldest grabs Beel's collar and pulls him out of the tub, with a grumbling Belphie following close behind (finally awake from the shouting). Mammon follows soon after, skirting out of the room without needing to be asked twice, not concerned in the slightest about how soaked his designer jacket was as you were sure he was going to explode from how red his face was. Asmo and Satan follow close behind, with the fourth-born grabbing a still-unconscious Levi by the ankle and dragging him out of the room. You sigh and sink into what little is left of the water, resting your head against the edge of the tub. 
"Thank you," You sigh. "That was a nightmare." 
"Of course," The firstborn stands still for a moment, clearing his throat. "While I am here, I recently received the scores from the exam that you had taken last week-"
"Lucifer," You glare at the man, eye twitching in annoyance. "Out."
He sighs, turning on his heel and striding out the door, closing it behind him with a click. Finally, in silence, you try to relax once more. 
The pounding of your heart doesn't allow it, though.
Neither do the bruises on your stomach from Beel's hard-as-a-rock forehead, or on your ribs from when Mammon had elbowed you in an attempt to flee, or the scratch on your back from when Beel had tried to separate Belphie from you only to find that the youngest was going to fight tooth and nail to continue your impromptu cuddle session and dug his bitten nails into your skin.
You laugh bitterly- something caught between an annoyed growl and a sob- and slam your fist uselessly against the porcelain. 
You were going to get them back for this.
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meanbossart · 2 months
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Because I love the idea of DU drow as a companion... how would you recruit him? Where do you find him, and what's his intro cutscene?
Hi, I've been thinking about this since I got this message :V
There's this nautiloid pod somewhere nearby the Owlbear cave right? So those things were just crashing all over the place, not just near the beach where the actual ship fell. I believe his pod could have had a similar fate and fallen somewhere off the beaten path.
Mind you that, In this scenario, waking up from the pod and onto the forest map would have been DU Drow's first-ever conscious minutes ever since having his mind wiped, so he truly has no fucking idea of what just happened - he just knows his head is in shambles and that he needs to survive for long enough for his memories to return, assuming they ever will. So, his immediate instinct would be to retreat away from where the people are.
I think underneath the bridge, where there's running water and some fauna/flora would be a good spot to find him. Players might take a day or two until they stumble across this weirdo companion and so they are more in the loop than he would be. You'd find a little blood-trail leading you down there, and eventually spot a fist's corpse with no shoes near the river - DU drow would be crouched down by the water washing blood off himself:
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While the rest of the party may have been picked off random places as they went about their days, this guy was busy being dissected and put back together over and over again - and there's no way Kressa bothered to dress him back up fully before he was taken away from her (me allowing the man to have pants on at all is a mercy onto you all) so he begins with no armor, but to make up for that fact he's the only companion who begins with a great-sword, which he would have stolen from the fist.
When you approach he is perfectly calm, In fact, he doesn't seem all that there. He stands up and appears half-ready for a fight, but lets you speak first. You can either ask what he's doing here, or about the corpse. You get more or less the same answer to both:
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If you successfully persuade him, he tells you with no particular tone of shame or remorse that you got him, he did kill him, however he claims he was attacked first. Whether you pry into his mind with the worm, or have a scroll of read-thoughts, you get the same narration:
"Behind the aloof facade, you find the drow's mind to be in a concerning state of disarray: dozens of thoughts racing, jumbled, all at once, each trailing into the next before you can catch a hint of substance. You don't find the answers you were looking for, just red goo."
You CAN however use speak to the dead on the corpse. If you do that, it's revealed that he is actually telling the truth; The fist found him and assumed him to be with the drow who raided Wakeen's rest. Otherwise, you have to either take his word for it, attack him, or leave him.
He will refuse your offers to join you/go to your camp until you reveal to him that you have been tadpoled - either through using the Illithid-worm option, or telling him upfront through normal dialogue. If you didn't peer into his head earlier, you will now, confirming to yourself and him that he's also been infected. Then, you can tell him you're looking for a cure, and he will agree to travel along. This gets you approval from Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion, and disapproval from Lae'zel, Wyll, and Gale.
If you attack, he's as easy a fight as any companion would be at that point. If you choose to leave him be/not tell him about your worm so he refuses to join, he will appear at your camp after two long rests, basically forcing himself to into your party unless you kill him. You find him hanging out around Withers and he tells you he's decided to travel with you from now on, and that he will make himself comfortable.
If you ask for his name, he tells you to just call him whatever you want to (cue like 5 joke dialogue answers - he responds to all of them with a snort and you get approval if you pick any flattering ones). Whatever you ask about him gets you a very blunt, vague response. If you have Shadowheart in your party/are playing as her, she implies he may be suffering from memory loss, finally prompting him to admit to it. Otherwise he only reveals this after a couple more long-rests.
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 8 months
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Sano Shinichiro - "I Just Love Pathetic Guys"
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In which I've made an imagine about how pathetic Sano Shinichiro is and how I think pathetic guys are actually really freaking hot adorable. I just so happen to have a thing for losers and Shinichiro is probably the hottest loser in both the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime.
                                                                                                   
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Imagine; he's talking to his friends about how he was yet again rejected for the nth the time now. You just so happen to be nearby and overhear his sad announcement; listening to his friends tease him about how he scares women away.
Imagine; you approach them after a few moments, when they've switched topics to something unrelated. You take his hand and write your number on it; only saying "call me sometime" as you wave goodbye and walk away. He'd be too stuck in the shock he felt to stop you and ask your name.
Imagine; you receive a call from an unknown number as soon as you step foot in your house. And when you pick up the phone you're met with his timid voice, asking if you're the person who gave him their number twenty minutes ago.
Imagine; instead of directly answering him, you somehow rope him into describing you and your first interaction. Hearing him trip over his words as he tries to keep his composure over the phone and seem proud an manly.
Imagine; you get him to practically beg you to allow him to take you on a date. You can't help but laugh how pathetic he is and you tell him so, but you 'agree' to go out with him anyway.
Imagine; he tales you out to eat and keeps reassuring you that he'll pay for everything but in the end, he doesn't have enough money, so you end up paying it in full instead. You can see how embarrassed he is and as bad as it makes you seem, damn do you relish in it.
Imagine; that during the rest of the date he somehow embarrasses himself in some way, shape or form. He can't even look you in the eye at this point and he walks at least two feet behind you, unwilling to try and lead you anymore lest he make even more of a fool out of himself.
Imagine; he drives you back to your place on his bike in silence, too scared to say anything just in case he has a slim chance of seeing you again. He stops in front of your place and you get off his bike, immediately turning to your front door. But, instead of going inside, you set the things he bought you down at your doorstep and walk back to him.
Imagine; that instead of letting him get the first word in, you tell him how much of a loser he is. You can see how deeply it affects him by how sad he looks, but you're not done talking.
Imagine; you take a fist full of his hair and yank him down for a kiss, smashing your lips together. You tell him how he's your exact type and how hot he was today. That he had better take you on another date or you'd kick his ass.
Imagine; you go into your home and you can still hear the hum of his bike's engine from outside. He's still sitting in fron of your house in complete shock. That is... until you hear a loud but muffled "Yes!" from outside.
Fuck. How can someone so pathetic be so damn hot at the same time? You couldn't wait until the second date.
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