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#he burrows under everything
creapysummer · 10 months
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headcanon that crowley has one of those circular beds and it's literally covered is mounds of blankets and pillows and shit and he literally just has like a nest that he sleeps in
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chryzuree · 1 year
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Concept: Vampire Jacks but it's like old school vampire rules. He can't enter churches, or houses he hasn't been invited into. Anyone who ever visits Chrysi's house gets jump scared at least once cause there's a mopey wet-rat-vibes vampire outside the window
YEAH,,,,,,,,, let him in, chrysi….. it’s raining… he’s so cold :((( he misses you :((((((((((((
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 4 months
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Do you love me?
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Pairings - Rafe x reader
Summary - you catch Rafe watching porn. Based on this ask
Warnings - masturbation, porn, reader being sad, language, unprotected sex. (18+)
A/n- always have the conversation with your partner about porn, some people don’t care but others do so please don’t leave any rude comments.
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When you had gone looking for your boyfriend around 11pm you had expected to find him asleep on the couch, credits to the movie the two of you had tried watching running in the background. White noise helped him sleep. What you hadn’t expected to find was your boyfriend watching porn, on the big screen. His cock between his hand as he tugged himself, soft moans and grunts spewing from his lips as he watched the scene in front of him.
A perfect curved blonde bounced on a thick cock, her pussy was immaculate. No hair or razor burn to be seen, just complete bareness. She was everything you weren’t, even the noises she made was better.
You had been so naive to think he didn’t watch porn, to believe you were enough to satisfy his needs. Of course you weren’t, you didn’t look like the girl on the screen. Your curves weren’t perfect, your hair didn’t look like that and you definitely didn’t sound or act the way she did which apparently had Rafe beating his cock harder.
Stepping away from the door you creeped back to the bedroom, the tears fell before you even made it under the blanket. Your body shaking against the mattress in sadness, this shouldn’t have such an affect on you. Everyone watches porn, you’ve watched porn but that was before Rafe. Before you had his perfect body at your disposal.
Pressing the palms of your hands into your face to ease the tears, taking deep breaths to stop the noises. The sound of the living room door closing has you burrowing under the blanket, hiding your face so he can’t see you.
It feels like hours go by before he steps into the room, moving around quietly as he strips his clothes off. He always slept naked, a sight you’d never get over. You feel his side of the bed dip and the ruffle of the blanket, you don’t expect his arm to pull you against his chest. “You're awake” he whispers, the thump of your heart giving you away. His hand pressed firmly just above your breast, you stay quiet though. Hoping he just lets you go to sleep but of course he doesn’t, he’s spinning your body like a rag doll. “Why’s your heart beating so fast?”.
The room is pitch black, he’s unable to see your bloodshot eyes. His fingers dance up and down your spine waiting for your answer. “Not sure” your voice is raspy, a tell tale sign something’s wrong. His hand is hitting the bedside lamp within seconds, towering over your small frame. Fingers cupping your cheek softly, his eyes search your face and a deep frown settle between his eyebrows. “Why have you been crying?”.
You push at his chest, turning until your back is to him. Embarrassment settles in your chest, a sudden wave of nausea rushes through you. “Babe, don’t do that. Tell me why you’ve been crying?”
With all the confidence you can muster you turn slightly, looking him directly in the eyes. “Do you still love me?”
The deep chuckle vibrates his chest and he pulls himself to sit, your cheeks tinted red in anger and embarrassment you press your face into the pillow. “Oh hey hey babe no. Of course I love you. Why would you ask me that?”
His grabby hands prod you in the side, pulling at your waist so he can see your face. You slap his hands away when they reach for your face again, moving yourself until you say against the headboard. Knees pressed firmly to your chest, arms wrapped tight around you. “Are you attracted to me?” Tears start falling before you can catch them, bottom lip wobbling as you stare at him. The sobs come hard and fast, he’s holding your face firmly.
This time he stares at you, it's intense and you feel shy under his gaze. “Of course I am… your fucking perfect”
Your eyes rolled hard, no you weren’t. The tears keep coming but the attitude fights it way through. “Don’t roll your eyes” he grasps your wrists, yanking you until you straddle his lap. “No I'm not.. I don’t look like those girls”
Confusion evident on his face as he waits for you to explain, so unsure on what has made you feel this way. “Those girls” you whispered, too shy to explain you had caught him masterbsting to porn earlier. “Your going to need to explain baby”
“The girls in porn” you blurt, the corner of his lips turning up. A lightbulb going off above his head, he realises you must have seen him earlier. “I went to find you… I thought you’d fallen asleep, I didn’t mean to see you- you’know”.
Gripping your chin with his forefinger and thumb he angles your face up at him, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You think I don’t love you because of the girls in porn?”
You nod your head in embarrassment, you know you shouldn’t be feeling these things. “I was right here.. why didn’t you ask me to help?”
“Oh baby… your fucking perfect, those girls aren’t what I want. You are what I want… I watch porn when I don’t want to annoy you”
“Your not annoying me”
“Your pussy is fantastic, the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. I can’t get enough of it, I can’t get enough of fucking you… I love fucking you”
“Sweet girl, my sex drive is insane. I’m constantly horny, I can’t expect you to be willing and waiting for me every second of the day”
“Yes you can Rafe… if I’m around then use me, I understand if I’m not around. Of course porn would be your go to but I’m right here, I want you just as much as you want me and if it’s not sex you want, I’ll get on my knees for you”
He grins Cheshire Cat like, pupils blown to the max. His lips attack yours in one swift swoop, tongue slipping between your lips. It’s messy and full of heat, his grabby hands caress the skin of your exposed thighs.
Grinding you down onto his crotch, you can feel him hardening under you. You had forgotten he was naked for a brief moment, reaching down to grasp his cock. With just a few small tugs he was completely hard, throbbing in your palm. “Fuck baby… I hope you mean what your saying, I’m going to fuck this pussy until it’s a weeping mess every day… multiple times of the day” he states, kissing down the length of your neck.
He’s pulling your shorts to the side, pressing the head of his cock to your opening. Without warning you push down on him, his cock stretching you wide. “Shit… baby girl, I just about came. You feel so fucking good” he growls, he scoops your breasts out of the loose tank top. Sucking your nipples into his mouth harshly, your hips roll and bounce above him. “Not so fast, I want to show you how much I love fucking you” he breaths, wrapping his arm around your back he places you onto the bed.
Your legs wrap around his waist as he thrusts into you, it's deep and slow. Your walls spasm around him each time he nudges your clit, his lips suck deep purple bruises into your neck. “Oh yes Rafe… I can’t- I need you to go faster” you breath, your orgasm was fluttering.
Pressing the heels of your feet into his lower back, he shook his head moving his lips across your jaw onto your lips. His pace quickened only by a fraction, not enough to bring you over the edge. “Going slow baby.. want you to understand how much I love you and how much I love this body, you are the only person I want”
You nod your head, understanding his words. You had over reacted to what you had seen, completely understanding why he used porn at certain times. “Yes baby.. I understand. Please”
He loved hearing you beg, he knew you were close by the way your cunt sucked him deeper. He reached between you, pressing his fingers to your aching clit. “Yes yes yes”
This was enough to have you crying out under him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him in close. Fingernails racking up the length of his back as your orgasm washed over you, he was quick to follow, still sensitive from his previous abuse on his cock.
“I love you baby… not porn okay”
“I know, but I was serious… use me okay. I’m here whenever you want me”
“Your going to regret that”
🏷️ Tag list- @laylasbunbunny @maybankslover @h34rtsformilli @lydiasxxsworld @hallecarey1 @mountloverr @outerbankspov @cameronmedia @crunchy-leaves77 @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade @phoenixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @s-we-e-t-t-ea @rafesthroatbaby @alltoomay @moremaybank @drewstarkeysbae @mrssturnioloo @darleneslane @tierra-0604 @eliana772 @gabys-gabs @applelovesposts @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly-blog @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @tiacordelia02 @bbycowboi @teresalesbian @imnotpretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @jscameron @rafegirly @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @loverofdrewstarkey @ijustwanttoreadlols @sierraluvzz @sunny1616 @spookyscaryspoon @slvttedoutmars @ailee-celeste @ashpeace888 @xo-hayleyy-xo @exhaustedbutrelated @ethereal0810 @tayygriffith @pankowperfection @loopylemonpops @oceandriveab
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sharpedgedfool · 24 days
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The first line up of fae! Some extra rambles under the cut:
Had to keep these guys together of course, they're all spring-waking and fall-sleeping fae. Usually the first thing they do when they wake up is find each other again, they pretty much spend all their seasons together.
Wild Cherry likes exploring, adventuring, racing and discovering new hide-outs. They've out-flied every other fae in the waking seasons, their current goal is to wake up early enough to spend a few days in the Winter - to challenge their fastest fae to a race to prove they're the fastest out of anyone.
Sycamore loves inventing and building, they make gear and knick-knacks for everyone. Fae from all over know to seek them out for any assistance building something, they built Rose's hammer for instance! Most fae without wings can't fly, but the Sycamore's helicopter seeds have the unique ability to grant him limited flight!
English Rose loves dresses, gowns, flower crowns, everything fashion-related in the fae world - they love celebrations and usually go a bit overboard decorating - but being extra is a good thing for fae. They have a bit of a temper, but are exceptionally generous and often willing to lend a hand.
Jack O' Lantern likes exploring too, and normally digs around animals burrows and fallen logs to find things Cherry overlooks in the sky. They are wingless but are able to glide on the wind (like spores) and have fashioned some rose thorns to his gloves to climb easily. He often goes off on his own, but always comes back around to hang with the group.
All four of them are well known, well respected Fae, but have a bit of a reputation of getting into trouble. They have a strong sense of morals and will not back down from a fight - if a fairy decides to stir up trouble these four will usually have something to say about it.
(Also shout out to the person who recognised the exact bug species of Sonic's wings like immediately when I posted the wip ur a real one jkhdfgdgf)
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volensnolenss · 11 days
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𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄
summary: working as a doctor is so exhausting, especially at jujutsu tech, however, when your man is around, everything becomes different;
content: nsfw!mdni, mention of blood, riding, nipple play, dirty talk, praising, clothed sex, blow job, creampie, cum eating;
characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento;
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GOJO:
“don't lie, i know perfectly you can heal yourself with reversed cursed technique” you roll your eyes and examine the wound on his chest; a maroon stain protruded under his t-shirt, “sugar, you're not going to leave me to die?” gojo is watching the movement of your hands, which lift his clothes. you just click at him in response, and he grins at your outraged face.
you don't have time to put your palm to his wound, as suddenly it disappears, and satoru grabs your hand, pulling you to him, “missed you so much” he murmurs, burrowing into your hair, “oh, really?”you flirt by putting both palms to gojo's face, and his eyes immediately light up with fire.
“yeah, baby, keep it going" he whistles animatedly at you while you ride on his cock, capturing its entire length, “so good” you whisper, moving your hips and arching your back, creating the perfect angle for your pussy, “then go ahead, pretty” the corner of gojo's mouth stretches out and his hand squeezes your chest, making your nipple tense.
“ngh... satoru, you're- mhh” getting lost in your own growing sensations of his thick cock against and spreading your walls, your pussy throbs as he licks your breast and slightly biting your nipple. “come on, baby, make a mess on my cock” he smiles and his abs are straining with every thrust you make — his shaft is pounding you so deeply that you can feel every inch of it, “i'm cumming” you moan, digging your nails into gojo’s chest
“that’s it, sweet…” his voice is strangled and tense, experiencing his orgasm, he looks at your cunt soaked in your juices. you’re groan and stood up, trying to clean yourself up, “so fast?” he gets dressed and arches his eyebrow at the fact that you look like nothing has happened, “don’t forget who i am” you grin.
GETO:
he quietly came to you and crept up unnoticed, suguru's hands lay on your hips, “suguru” you stretch out his name and turn to him and, smiling, you kiss briefly, “is something bothering you?” you address him while he adjusts your hair, “just you” he grabbed you by your waist.
geto pushes you to your desk, pressing his groin against your ass, “that's a problem” you were dazed by his movements — he lifted your skirt and roughly tore your tights with a bang, “mhh, suguru” you're meowing when his fingers rub your aching pussy, “so wet for me already?”he grunted, pushing your underpants aside, and a slight chill washed over your skin.
“so pretty for me right now” he stroked his hard cock and pressed his tip to your soaking wet cunt, “ahh, suguru-” you whine while every inch of his length thrusts into you, “fuck, baby, you're so tight” suguru grumbles, accelerating with each thrust. your soft walls embrace his cock, moans come from your pouty lips from each of his tireless movements.
his hand roughly squeezes your wrists, fastening them to your back, continuing to bang his hips against your ass, “you're taking me so well, sweetheart” suguru coos to you, listening to your whimpering and watching you squirm under the pressure of approaching orgasm, “i ca-an't, suguru, feeling good” tears have accumulated in the corners of your eyes, “wait, baby, I'm close just wait” he growls, spasms run through him, cumming profusely into you.
geto gently removes the tears from your eyes, settling between your legs, which are still slightly shaking, “my girl, you were great” his hands gently stroke your skin, relieving you of tension.
NANAMI:
“nanami, honey, what happened to you?” your eyes widened when you noticed a reddening spot on his side, “i've miscalculated,” he sighs, answers briefly and unbuttons his shirt. you can't look away from his perfectly chiseled muscular figure. men like him are really one in a billion.
of course, kento knows that you are a sweet girl and she is excited by your slightest touch every time, and this time when you treated his wound, he tensed up, especially when you touched his abs, “everything is okay?” you're surprised he wants to leave so soon,“ i have a lot of work today. thanks” he's about to get up, but you notice a bump on his trousers and giggle softly, “relax, i'll help you.”
“does that feel good?” you wrap your hand around his cock, pressing your thumb on its tip, smearing pre cum, “darling, i think-” nanami bites his lips, his cheekbones become sharper when you kiss his shaft. a moan escapes his lips, his fingers grab your hair. you're doing it perfectly — kento can't express it by focusing on how you swallow his fat cock more and running your hand the rest of the length.
“yes… yes, like that” he whispers, looking at your moist lips and lowered fluffy eyelashes. you shake your head and moan softly when his cock rests against your throat. nanami swallows, his hip slightly rising towards you. you lose your composure, moving away from him, you run your hand more sharply over his wet cock, pushing him to the edge.
“hell, I'm close-” his cock throbs in your hand, he swears under his breath when his cum covers yours and tongue, continuing to lick his swollen tip, “i need you more often” he grinned, rubbing your lips and tracing their contour with his finger, he pushes it into your mouth.
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buckyalpine · 13 days
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Bucky comfort. What I need like air right now is a sweet, chubby baker Bucky who notices his bunny is down. She doesn't say anything out of the ordinary when she comes to visit the bakery, kissing his soft scruffy cheek before taking a seat at the booth with a fresh Danish he made.
Cherry, because that's her favorite.
He can tell something is off when her smile doesn't quite meet her eyes and she's curled up in his hoodie quietly nibbling on the pastry instead of clinging onto him like she usually does.
He doesn't like it. Not one bit.
He loves when his girl hugs his thick waist tightly from behind while his works at the dough and rolls out croissants. Her little hands usually knead at the fluff around his belly. Instead she seems to be in her own world, wrapping her arms tightly around herself and pushing herself further into her seat to hide from the rest of world. You tell him you have to run a few errands and he doesn't miss your steamy eyes and small voice as you scurry off out of the bakery and it just adds to his worry.
Bucky was having none of that.
He lets Sam and Steve take over a couple of his orders, cleaning off and deciding to go straight home to you instead, he knows you don't actually have errands to do, he always makes sure to take care of them anyway. When he arrives back home, he isn't surprised to see your smaller form curled in a ball on the couch, eyes wide, surprised to see him.
"Bucky?" the quiver in your voice gives away that you'd been crying moments earlier.
"C'mere baby bunny" Bucky cooed, scooping you up in his beefy arms, and cradling your body to his, holding you to his chest while you nuzzle into his neck. "Wanna tell me what's going on in that little head of yours" He whispered against your hair, stroking it while you pull back, giving him a shrug. He knows you don't always want to talk about it but he's going to do what he can to make you feel better
"I'm not sure" You say with a sigh, your mind still running around a thousand miles a minute. Nothing particularly bad happened but one thought led to another; questioning if you were happy with your job, if you were happy with where you were in life, if you were someone Bucky would actually even want to be with, someone so sweet and loving and handsome like him, all your friends seemed to have found their footing and you were still here so unsure-
"Shhh" he kissed your forehead as if he could hear your insecurities screaming at you from inside your head. "What do you need sweet girl" His lips brush against the top of your head, breathing in your soft scent of peach body wash and vanilla lotion. He has you perfectly tucked into his much larger form, as if he were trying to protect his baby bunny from the rest of the world.
"Cuddles?" You cling onto him, sighing contently when he shifts so he can wrap you up in his arms while you bury your face into his chest. Everything about him is so comforting, if you could find a way to burrow yourself into him, you would. Your wiggling and shifting to get even closer makes Bucky chuckle, cooing at the whine you let out when he pulls away.
"Not going anywhere bunny, just getting us more comfortable" You're not sure how he does it but with minimal effort and movement he's helped you strip off all your clothes along with his, tossing the fluffy throw to cover you both up. You love feeling his bare skin against yours, practically purring now that you can feel every bit of him.
The rumble of your stomach doesn't go unnoticed by Bucky and he makes sure to wrap you up in a blanket burrito before getting up and padding over to the kitchen.
"Where are you going now" You pout and he cups your face with the gentlest touch.
"You're hungry bub, I'm just getting a snacky" and with that he walks off, grinning at the giggle you let out watching his perfectly perky ass saunter off.
"Yummyy" You wiggle happily from under your blanket at both the sight of you very pretty, very naked boyfriend carrying in a plate of more Danishes and a bunch of other pastries and fruit he grabbed on the way out when he left the bakery.
Bucky adores seeing you like this, setting down the snacks so he can hold you again when you give him grabby arms. He doesn't let you lift a fingers, feeding you another Danish, kissing the crumbs that clung onto your lips. He runs you a bath next. His bunny doesn't feel like moving much so he's happy to carry you there while you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear.
By the end of the night he loves seeing the light return to your eyes, your soft giggles when he has you perched on the bathroom counter doing your skin care routine with him.
"Keep your little paws to yourself, doll" Bucky swats away your hands when you reach for the lotion, taking over the job for himself. He's more than happy to massage up and down your calves to your thighs. He massages all the knots out of your back and shoulders before carrying you off to bed again for more cuddles and kisses.
Anyway, this was sitting in the drafts for weeds and it's still what I need rn.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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Jason loves kneeling before you and holding onto your waist as he burrows his face into your stomach, all the while you have your hand buried deep into his hair as they combed their way through, playing with the ends as he childishly groans at you to keep going whilst holding onto your waist tighter.
You were Jason’s safe place, the first and possibly only person who shown him kindness, love and compassion without seeking for something for yourself. Jason oftentimes doesn’t think your real but with the way you felt beneath his scarred and calloused hands, it was more then enough to show him that you were more then real.
His angel, his beloved, his first experience of kindness, his everything, his anchor. You were everything and so much more to Jason that he honesty doesn’t know how he managed to scrap by life without you kissing his wounds as you help patch him up.
Dick loves resting on top of you, and this was more evident when he’s had a rough day and is in need of a bit of comfort, but doesn’t want to bother you in asking for it. So he just wordlessly collapses on top of you and crushing you beneath his weight, intentionally ignoring your complaints as he gets himself comfortable before burrowing his head into your neck as he rants about the awful day he’s had into your ear.
He liked the fact that you listen to him, allowed him the space to speak openly and freely without judgement, even offering up advice when he needed it as you pressed kisses into his head in hopes of soothing his oncoming headache.
Angel kisses as Dick often calls them and will even over exaggerate the day he’s had just to feel your healing kisses against his skin, smiling at the feeling of you beneath him safe and sound, even if he was crushing you but he claims that it was his love for you that was actually crushing you…what a doofus but he’s your doofus and he refuses to let you forget it.
Damian has a sketchbook full of you and his pets doing stupid things.He has sketches of you and Titus taking a nap together, you and Ace cuddling up on the couch together during movie night, and lastly Damian had a sketch of you and Alfred the Cat sunbathing on the steps leading up towards the Wayne manor. They were all too silly and goofy for him but the fact that he felt compelled to draw, and later immortalise these moments into his artwork, said a lot more than he was willing to let on how he felt about you.
He won’t ever admit it but he likes that you’ve developed a deep enough connection with Titus, Ace or Alfred to be able to do these sort of things without them getting agitated or annoyed. His pets mean a lot to him and for you to be accepted by them was enough for Damian to start trusting you more often.
Damian would watch over you as you took a nap in his room despite knowing that nothing will ever get to you here. He won’t allow it. He was an highly trained ruthless assassin for fucks sake and he’d relinquish that title real fast if you were to ever be brought to harm under his watch. Which doesn’t come to pass because if there’s anywhere you could feel the slightest bit safe, it’s the Wayne Manor. It warms Damian’s heart to see that even Titus was overprotective of you too and would often guard you as you slept but laying himself at your feet, staring at the door as though he was waiting for something to try and get to you while he and Damian where here. Damian guessed that the rumour was true that sooner or later the dog would start to act/ look like the owner.
Bruce Wayne -THE BATMAN- loves the sweet kisses that you’d decided to leave on his cheek whenever he has to leave for somewhere important. He considers them his blessings from you and will keep an internal headcount of how many you’ve given him, with the current score being about thirty five to fourth five at the very least. Neither you nor him had a clue when this became a thing but the action of kissing the other’s cheek had quickly became a much loved tradition of yours.
He’d respond to your cheek kisses in kind with his own, which never fails to leave you smiling widely and warm within your chest, as you were left to feel the lingering of his kiss on your cheek for the rest of the day. The action may not look like much to others, but it was enough affirmation for you and Bruce to know that the love you both have for each other was still alive and strong after being together for so long.
He still tries to spoil you by bolting you things but you had to physically prevent him from bringing out his credit card the moment he spots you looking at something for a second too long. You didn’t give a shit about the fact that he was Bruce Wayne the billionaire, you only cared about Bruce Wayne the sweetest yet semi-awkward man you’ve ever met in your life. When he asks you what it is that you wanted from him, you’d reply with, ‘love, affection in any form that you are most comfortable with. I couldn’t care less for materialistic things because a simple touch of a hand or kiss to a cheek would prove priceless in comparison.’ And Bruce had respect your wish ever since…with several gifts bought now and then for special occasions he could surprise you with.
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rusmii · 2 months
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𓂃🦄. BSD MEN HITTIN' THAT G-SPOT !
chuuya, dazai, tecchou
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tags. x fem!reader, smut, cockwarming, implied/referenced punishments, grinding, controlled sex, (hard) bite marks, almost caught, blowjob under desk, desk/office sex, jealousy, punishments, brats/brat taming, overstim, marking, lewd acts, praising, degrading, cock drunk/pussy drunk, breeding kink, fingering, clit stimulation, squirting, multiple rounds, kinda riding, petnames, multiple uses of profanity, BANNERS/DIVIDERS MADE BY ME.
ps. leave me alone my shit writing is making me depressed.
all credit on this post belongs to @rusmii . don't steal >:(((
rules (for m.list) | taglist: @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @xxcandlelightxx @iheartpieck @ezelium @atsquie
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" 'Zai," you whisper into his ear, the soft breeze making him shudder for a brief moment. "Yes, 'bella?" He asks, his eyes still on his suicide book that he was reading. An annoyed sigh came out from you. What made his suicide book that he's read over a gazillion times more important than you? You stood there beside him for a minute, thinking about how to get his attention on you next. Dazai on the other hand knew what you were aiming for. Your skimpy nightwear and lounge gaze was enough to tell him everything. And truth be told, he was also feeling the same way. "Osamu~" You say again, straddling his lap as you do so. "Can I cockwarm while you read? Pretty pleeaase?~"
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"Why're you moving, darling?"
A lump formed a clog in your throat. The small question he asks you within a few minutes in already has you wishing that you'd never propose this idea to him. He flips a page, humming as he does so. The usual smile he has when he sees you is present on his face.
His cock sits nice and still inside you. The slight curve of his dick being the main culprit of your squirmish movements. " 'M no- 'm sorry." You can feel Dazai eyeing you, the lie you almost gave him making you swallow the lump inside your throat in fear. For a few seconds, Dazai doesn't do anything, his attention long gone from his book as you burrow your head into the crook of his neck.
Clutching his shoulder that you laid your head on, you could feel slight movement in it. Dazai hums lowly, letting you off the hook this time. "Hm~ Fine. Be a good girl, though, and don't let me catch you humping me like a dog. Understood?"
You clench your teeth. Whew, for a moment there you thought you were fucked there. Punishments with Dazai was unpredictable, and you didn't intend on passing dangerous territory just yet. "Yes sir." — "Good girl," he praises, his warm words making your pussy ache.
Your pussy clenches around his cock, the silent lewdness of the situation made it wetter as time went on. You close your eyes, attempting to focus on Dazai's humming. His melodious tune being able to calm even the scorchest of hot headed men. You sigh, subtly rocking your hips against his. The unreactive Dazai giving you more courage to keep grinding on his cock.
Eventually, you heard the book close. The sound makes you halt and pull away. "You done readin'?" You question him when you see your lover setting the book aside onto the lamp table. Dazai hums, his soft expression calming your beating heart. Just for a moment there, you thought he caught you — "About 56 times." He cuts you off.
What? What was he talking about? You look at him, making eye contact almost immediately. Though he does not say anything, his sly smile and slanted eyes do. Your eyes start darting to anywhere but him, moving to the wall behind him. "My eyes are here," he points to his face, his voice rephrasing what he said earlier, "About 56 times did you disobey my orders."
"I -.." Excuses start piling up inside your throat. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He caught you, and there was nothing you could do about it. " 'I' What?" He mocks, the sinful smile he gives you was enough to have you breaking down. "I - I don't know! I -"
Endless blabber escapes from you. Dazai sits there and watches. Letting you cry out your frustration. He rubs the back of your head, a mocking coo leaving him. "Aw~ There, there darlin'. Don't cry, I promise I'm not that disappointed in you. You did your best, and I acknowledge that. Unfortunately, we both know that you could've done better." Bitter words come from him.
You were at a loss for words. No amount of crying and pleading was going to get you of your punishment now. Dazai doesn't wait for a response from you, though, pushing your chin up using his fingers. He was now eye to eye with you as he leaned forward, his head tilted to the side to line up with your lips. " 'M not gonna punish you too harshly. Despite you disobeying me, your grinding almost made me toss the book," Dazai admits, which makes your mouth drop open in surprise for just a split second.
"And for that - " He thrusts up hard. A loud moan escapes from your lips before you can muster any form of blockage. " - Ride for as long as you want." His smooth sailing words pur into your mouth. His own capturing yours into a soft, passionate kiss that matched the rhythm of your crotches grinding together. " 'Samu! - S- Osamu!" You moan his name, the tip of his dick rubbing against your bundle of nerves.
His eyes never leave yours. Every breathless grunt he lets out only spurs you on to bounce on his dick. The act makes him groan before he stops you from doing anymore. "Osamu..!" You whine, wondering why he stopped you. "No, I said for as long as you want. Not whatever you want."
You nod your head repeatedly, wanting to cum and get this over with. Dazai seems to agree so as well — using his hands to guide your hips. The slow grind making you cry tears of frustration. "Please! Please! - Osamu- Please! Please! - " — " Sh sh, I got you." Dazai reassures you, fastening the pace.
"Mmhm!~ Osamu! Osa - Osamu!!~" You squeal, his dick rutting inside your gushy cunt as he marks your neck made you see white. The tight clench of your walls made Dazai bite down a little too hard, tasting bits of iron in his mouth.
Dazai continues to grind his hips through your orgasm, feeling his own high building up. "Shit - Fuck! - cummincummin - Ghnn~" He groans into your neck. The pressure that had accumulated by your grinding earlier toppled down on his orgasm.
The white ribbon laced your walls deep inside you, the pressure of his dick pressing hard on your g-spot, giving you another orgasm. Hearing your second wave of squeals, Dazai uses a hand to rub your lower back, thrusting up slightly to help you ride out your second orgasm.
"Good - " He pants heavily, his flushed face with swollen lips, " - Good fucking girl, holy shit."
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"And for -!" Chuuya hiced. His brain being thrown for a loop as he grips the new paperwork that was given to him by Akutagawa. Said man seems to notice his red face and questions him. "Sir, are you alright?" Chuuya waves him off, "Yeah - just.. - feeling a little hot in this room right now - how high did I set the temp again?" He laughs awkwardly and orders Akutagawa to go check. While Akutagawa is distracted, Chuuya looks down to find his pants unzipped and you sucking the tip of his dick. "Stop. Akutagawa is here. Let's do this when he's gone," he orders you, attempting to swat you hand away from his balls. But before he could do that, Akutagawa returned. "Sir, seems like the temperature is just below average - are you sure you're okay? — "YES! You - You may leave." Chuuya stutters on his words when he feels you engulf his entire dick into your mouth.
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"You - " A slam of his hips has you spiraling into moans. " - Fucking - " Thrust " - Brat," he snarls above you. The nasaled expression on his face matching the rhythm of his hips.
"Chu-uuyaa!!~" You squeal, wrapping your legs around his waist as his dick plunges straight into your core — his dick hitting that spot every time he thrusts in. He groans, the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock perfectly could make him cum right then and there. "Yeah? That feel good? Fuck - bet that shit does." He slaps your thigh. "Brats like you shouldn't even be getting dicked down so good," he continues. His hips never faltering its rhythm.
"Good! Feels so good! Please Chu - Chu fuck me!" Affirming his accusations only made Chuuya more bricked than the hardest damn rock. All papers, pens, and other random shit had been thrown off his desk in a haste. He'd care about it when he was done with you. "Mhm..~ Ha! 'Dunno. Should brats like you get fucked like good girls? Hm?" He puncuates every word with a slow, sharp thrust. " 'Cause the whore 'm fuckin' is on Santa's naughty list right now."
You arch your back, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. You roll your head up as more nonsense came from you. His dick rubbed your spot intensely while grinding your crotches together. The sharp, angled, shallow thrusts almost, causing you to nearly shut one eye from losing control of most of your senses.
"Ahnn!~ - Yesss! Pleaaaasse - " You slur on your words, your tongue falling loose in your mouth. Chuuya tugs your arms to him and grips your wrists, sliding your body back and forth across the desk. "Chuuya! Chuuyachuuyachuuya!!!~" — "Fuck - keep moanin' my name like that and I might cum right now," he groans above you. His head was thrown back, face full of bliss.
Chuuya angles his dick again, making sure the tip and side of his length run against your g-spot. He hears another squeal, making a mental note to come back to this angle when he's fucked you silly.
Actually, scratch that — with how you're clinging your vices onto him so tightly, he can only assume that you were cumming right now. "Shiiit." A curse falls upon him when he finally notices the tight clench of your pussy. Chuuya didn't even realize you were having an orgasam until he saw your fucked out, lewd face. "Fuck - Oh fuck.." He grunts, slowing his thrusts as to hold out longer.
"Geez ‐ Shit - [Name], did anyone ever tell ya' how hot you look when you get all fucked out like that?" He asks, a grin spread from ear to ear. As soon as you catch your breath, you hum. "Yeah - you," you release a breathy laugh. "Me? Just me?" He asks again leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Who else would I be letting raw dog me? Not Michi."
The casual mention of your coworkers nickname caught Chuuya's attention. "Michi? Tachihara? Since when the fuck did you and and that fucker get on friendly terms?" A shallow upturn thrust surprises you. "Huh - Gh~ - What? Me and him have always been on friendly terms - Ogh!~"
"That's such fucking bullshit 'n you and I both know it." Chuuya interrupts you, thrusting into your cunt again. "W-wait!~ Chu-uya!" You moan. "You wanted me to fuck you like the dirty street slut you are — I'm gonna fuck you like a damn bitch in heat waitin' for a new batch of litter."
Never one to go back on his word, Chuuya picks up his pace, not caring about his rhythm. He aims for the same spot that has you crushing boulders when poked there. "Chuuya!~ Please! Please! T'much! So - " — " - Cut that shit out, overstim is your favorite pass time activity." His balls slap your ass from how deep he's inside you. "Don't wanna hear you give me that 'too much' crap. Yer' perfectly capable of handling 'nother few orgasms."
He was right. Fuck — Chuuya was so right. The mini act you put on was nothing but a facade of how you were feeling internally.
Lewd images racked your brain. The visual thought of Chuuya breeding you straight up was enough to get your pussy pulsing in a matter of seconds. "Fuckfuck! Chuuya! Please, 'm gonna cum!! Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cummm!!~" Chuuya grunts above you, sweat dripping down him. "Fuck - you feel so fuc-kin' good! Sweetheart ya' feel so fuck - ughhn!~"
At the very last moment, Chuuya angles his dick exactly like how it got you to cum right away. Your jaw drops open, your eyes roll back, and your back arches into Chuuya's chest as he leans down to burrow his head into your neck. "Mhm~ mmm - 'm cummin - shit - 'm cummin' doll." Was your only warning before you felt his cum sticking to your walls. The creamy goop being fucked deeper as he rides out both of your orgasms with slowing thrusts.
A few more shallow thrusts, and you two are whining in overstimulation, Chuuya quieter than you. He pulls away when he feels your legs unwrap from his waist, watching them dangle to the side in exhaustion.
He pants heavily. His face is bright red and messy hair is a perfect image to burn into your memory.
"Chuuya," you call out to him, way out of breath to even talk. "Yeah?"
"You do remember that you were the one who forced me and Tachihara on friendly terms, right?"
"..... Oh yeah." He scratches the back of his head before pulling out to slap his dick on your cunt. "Givin' you a break before we continue," he winks — readjusting the position of your body.
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"You wanna what?" Tecchou answers your question with another question. "Wanna get fingered so hard until I black the fuck out," you shrug your shoulders. The request wasn't expected, just a suggestion to spicen up your guys sex life — that was a lie, it was because you saw him flexing his fingers the other day and couldn't get the image of him being past knuckle deep inside your cunt out of your head!
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"Hnn!!~" You squeal, the fingers prodding gently against your g-spot pulling the second orgasm out of your for the night.
Tecchou doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out to stare at it. You glance at him, wondering what he had in plan. "Tecchou?" You get up on your elbows, eyes full of concern. Did you cross a line? Was this too much? Before you could ask any of the questions that popped up in your head, Tecchou slips his fingers into his mouth — fingers coated in your slick.
He sucks on his fingers, his tongue webbing around each one that was inside of you. "Tecchou.. What the fuck..?" You said, shock filling your brain as you watched him finger fuck his own mouth with your arousal.
He hums, his fingers coming out with a pop as he pushes you back down on the bed. "Tecchou, what the fuck was that? Why did you just - " — "Why is this a problem but not my face between your thighs?"
Speechless, you turn your head away. The thundering pump of your heart is not helping with thinking of anything to retort back. When Tecchou receives no answer from you, he drops his hand down to your clit — the gentle press bringing you back to earth. "third round?" He asks as he circles around your clit.
"Y-yeah -" Your breath hitched when he slipped three fingers inside your sopping cunt. The stretch of thick, veiny fingers stuffed up your pussy was almost enough to push in two mini didlos in there. You moan, a loud one that encouraged Tecchou to continue with what he was doing. " 'Gonna slip a fourth one. Can you do it?" A question for consent before he makes room for another finger.
"Mhm," you nod, already feeling the finger joining the others. Hissing, you bit your lip. The pain was mild, but the slight burn of the stretch made your eyes water a bit. "Hm," He hums again. "Relax, you're going to make me hurt you." His fingers still inside, not once moving until he feels you unclench around them. "Mm - I'm trying."
Tecchou doesn't seem to be happy with that response. "Don't force yourself." Was all he said before you felt him shift his fingers around. What came next was a gasp being ripped from you and another curl to the same spot. "T-Tecchou!~" You moan, feeling your spot being prodded at. The soft pressure he applies every time he presses down makes you squirm a bit. "I can feel you getting tighter. Does it feel good?" He asks, voice soft and gentle.
"Yes! Please!" You bring a hand down to your clit, rubbing it in a way that gives you the most pleasure. Tecchou's speed increases, the fingers curling inside all hitting the same spot. Your hips start to shake, the pressure of your approaching orgasm building up in your abdomen. "Te-Tec-hou!~" Hiccups escape through your sobs. Tears streaming down your cheeks due to the pleasure.
" 'M - cummin' - 'M cummin' !" Your body squirms. Tecchou pins you to the bed, fingering as fast as he can. "You can do it." The first praise of the night being whispered so lightly. His usual blank expression is now a mix of proudness and adoration. "C-can't! T'much! Too much!" You sniffle, pulling your arm back for better support. Tecchou takes it upon himself to do the job for you, using both of his hands, he plunges straight into you — simultaneously adding a fifth finger when he sees the puddle you made. His other hand doing the same gentle circles around your clit.
And finally, after a few minutes — the blockage in your abdomen snapped. The floodgates of your cum squirting out clear fluid as Tecchou re-angled his hand. "Ghhhh~ Ohhggg...!" You whine, your legs threatening to kick as you slightly lift your body off the bed.
Tecchou watches mesmerized by your shot, aiming at his chest directly. The clear fluid dripping down his pecks and into his abs below. "Woah.... That was so hot."
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hi was gonna originally write nikolai + fukuzawa but didn't have motivation for them :(... I did start out nikolais but don't even get me started on fukuzawa.... here's a snippet of nikolais
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do you guys want me to write a pt2 with fuku+niko??
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pileofmush · 7 months
Text
luffy is for the sad, pathetic, touch-starved bitches. the ones who shiver at the mere brush of skin. who wince whenever their friends go in for hugs, unsure of where to put their arms. the ones who are so, so aware of their proximity to others. so careful not to brush fingers when walking side to side with a peer, or when handing a pencil to a friend, because they’re sure that one affectionate squeeze of the arm could leave their innards a puddle at their feet, creeping toward the nearest drain.
when you meet luffy, you think he’s one to be admired, not touched. you see the way he infects everyone around him with his reckless abandon. hanging off shoulders and dragging people to and fro. his crewmates are used to it. they scoff and wiggle under his weight for show: for there’s a sense of relief when monkey d. luffy has his eyes on you. you can tell in the automatic decompression of their shoulders, in the languid way they turn to him—saplings curving toward the sun. 
you see it, and you envy it. respect it. respect him. but that’s the extent of your thoughts on the matter.
you never considered that he would turn his sights on you. 
but he does. 
he picks you up like you’re something shiny, holds you up to the light and squints. and whatever he finds must be satisfying, because after that, he doesn’t put you down. 
it overwhelms you, at first. he tugs on your cheek at the sight of a frown, like you’re the one made of rubber, and your heart does a funny jig that’s actually not funny at all. he pokes you in the ribcage to grab your attention, and ignores you when you try to tell him that a verbal cue would work just as well. he grabs your hand, instinctively twining your fingers, and pulls you along when you stop in your tracks.
and you feel—you feel like a puddle. be careful your mind warns, or you’ll slip.
but luffy’s there to catch you when you fall.
and that’s what’s so terrible about him, you think. he’s the question and the answer. 
and he’s burrowed himself under your skin. 
how foolish of him to touch you so casually and expect you not to revel in it. not to crave his pokes and his prods more than you crave air. how foolish of him to drape himself over you like a weighted blankie and not expect you to desire him by your side, always, to keep the cold at bay. he’s a fool and you’re a pauper.
but, sometimes, you think he knows what he does to you. he has to. oh, how he’ll laugh when he catches you staring at his hands. bound over until he’s right in front of you, place a thumb under your chin and tilt until your gaze meets his. his eyes are dark, but so, so bright. you want to look away. you don’t. 
everything is so easy for him. it's unnerving. he plops his head in your lap one day with a carefree grin. you still—hold your breath like a child playing hide and seek. he cracks open an eye, like he can read your thoughts. or maybe he can just feel you tremble.
“what’s wrong?”
you rack your brain for an answer he could understand. “what do you want me to do?” you hedge. 
luffy furrows his brows. “whatever you want,” he says.
“no, i mean—where do you want me to touch?” 
he shrugs. “wherever you want.”
and you feel—you feel like you want to run your hands over every inch of his skin until you have a mental map of his body you could navigate through touch alone. you want to put him in your mouth. you want to inhale him like a drug, want him to burn the back of your throat 'til it stings. you want… him. 
you settle for caressing his jawline. tracing the slope of his nose. his eyes flutter shut, and you pause, but he grabs your hand and plants it firmly on his face. and it feels, it feels like you’re the question and he’s the answer. it feels like maybe, just maybe, you’re okay with becoming a puddle of a person, for him. 
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onyourowndaisymae · 7 months
Text
under where?
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content + warnings: nsfw, x fem!reader, flashing, discussions of oral
prompt: "Imagine sitting across from the brothers and nonchalantly spreading your legs to reveal no underwear under your skirt. Just IMAGINE their reactions…" (via: @shywritersblog)
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there's a tension in the air, a mixture of seven different reactions to the same action. seven demons who knew their master had such a commanding presence, had fallen victim to "stay" time and time again-- yet here you are, bringing all of them to their knees without uttering a single word.
lucifer pales when your legs spread. a low, possessive growl threatens to rock his chest, but he swallows hard and averts his gaze. you can see his cheeks flush a little. he meets your gaze-- he's very determined to show you he doesn't see you as a piece of meat-- and opens his mouth to scold you for such vulgar behavior. but there's this heat in your gaze, almost inviting as your eyes smolder with want. his mouth closes. he takes another look between your spread legs. fuck. you're so wet it's obscene. were you really that needy, working yourself up like that over there? he can only imagine what's running through your head, what depraved thoughts linger beneath that cheshire smile. no matter. just say the word and he's whisk you away to his room, alone, ready to please his master until dawn breaks through the darkened skies.
mammon whines, the sound loud and uninhibited, his cheeks engulfing in flames-- yet he can't bring himself to be ashamed. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you. he wants to yell, too. why? why're you so comfortable spreading your legs like that in front of all his brothers, huh?! don't you know the kind of filthy thoughts running through their heads?! the conflicting feelings make his stomach flutter. he wants to close your legs, guarding your entrance like a dragon to its hoard, greedy to keep its greatest treasure private. but he also wants to fall to his knees in front of you. to wait for your permission before burying his face in your cunt, fucking you on his tongue in front of everyone. he's getting impatient now that the thought's entered his mind-- so can you please stop looking at him like that and let him touch you already, before he loses whatever mind he has left?
leviathan can feel his shame rush to his face, burning heat pooling at the back of his neck. it's embarassing how quickly his pants grow tight and cumbersome. this-- this is too much for him. he needs to hide away, now, burrowing into a fort of blankets in his bathtub until a century or two passes and he's sure everyone's forgotten about this moment in time. but he can't. because you're staring at him. your eyes crawl up his body, lingering on his shifty feet, his quivering hands, his tented pants-- your gaze makes his head spin. he's going to pass out if you keep watching him like that. you wet your lips briefly, eyes darting to meet his before your gaze falls between his legs again, and he swears to every authority in every realm that he can feel his cock throb in need. please say something, do something. either let him retreat to lick his wounds or ride him until he's a puddle of drool and slick underneath you.
satan's cheeks flush, but he keeps his gaze steady as he thoroughly observes your sopping wet cunt. he wants to think of something clever or witty to say, but his mouth is so dry and his brain is so fuzzy-- do you know what you do to him? he's aware that you're teasing him. it's frustrating. all these eyes on you, and yet you're only looking at him. like a cat that got the cream, you're smirking, lounging in your chair like he can't see the slick gathering around your entrance. it would be so easy for his finger to slip inside you, finger fucking you senseless until you're so sensitive you writhe and dig your nails into the arms of that chair. but that would be too easy, wouldn't it? no, you're teasing the avatar of wrath. while patience is not his favorite virtue, it will be the one he has tonight-- because the moment you're finally underneath him, he's going to toy with you as much as he wants, prowl around your exposed body until he decides to pounce. after all, you're the one who wanted to play cat and mouse.
asmodeus can feel his lips curl into a grin. oh, you naughty little thing! a giggle escapes his lips as he watches you with rapt attention. oh, that slippery little cunt of yours is so cute! would you mind if he got a closer look? he wants to bask in this moment. you're biting your bottom lip and grinning right back at him, and it takes everything in him not to break the tension by letting honey filth spew from his lustful lips. sure, there's a lot he could say, but don't actions speak louder than words? in that case, he wouldn't mind running his tongue along that pretty clit of yours to taste your slick himself. he can't think of a better way to express his love for you than to ravish you as thoroughly as the tried and true avatar of lust can. the room is delightfully hot and intense, making his head spin as surges of lust bounce off the walls. oh, darling, the anticipation is killing him-- won't you just share all the dirty thoughts caught in that pretty little head of yours?
beelzebub suddenly feels like he shouldn't be here. he notices the change in the air before he notices your legs spread, ever perceptive to the emotions of his loved ones. and all of those feelings lead him to you-- specifically, that wet spot between your legs that's got everyone so riled all of a sudden. it makes him nervous. at first, he worries you've exposed yourself on accident. he looks away as his cheeks turn pink, ashamed of how quickly his mind begins to wander. but then he hears you shuffling-- so naturally, he looks back at you-- to find you pulling your skirt up further, bunching it around your thighs to give everyone a clearer view. he realizes now that you want everyone to see your cunt. now he doesn't feel so bad about staring, about the groan sitting in the back of his throat. he'll never push, never question your motives or try to touch you without explicit permission, but he can't help the way his mouth waters and his erection stirs in his pants. and judging by the way you're staring at him like a five course meal, it seems you don't mind much either.
belphegor's eyes widen in shock, before a predatory grin engulfs his face. oh. you're in for it now. you've given the game away by exposing yourself as a needy whore, and it's clear from your haughty smirk that you think you've won this game. that's cute. but you're playing with demons-- manipulative, scheming, needy demons that'd do anything to bury themselves deep inside of the very hole you're so determined to tease them with. or maybe you're just teasing one particular demon. because your eyes linger on his just a bit too long to be coincidental, flitting away to the ground or a nearby wall before meeting his again. are you feeling nervous now? you should be. make no mistake-- he sees what you're doing here, and he's already thinking of ways to handle it. you're clearly getting aroused by all the attention. he wants to help, but he's just feeling so tired. you're already so prepped and eager-- maybe he should let you sink onto his cock in this very room? he's curious to see how well you can perform with an audience.
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some-bunniii · 2 months
Text
Lucifer in love with an artist reader
・❥ There’s only one good way to start the day… pancakes and ice cream.
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
warning: mild swearing
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You were awoken by something shifting against your chest. You stirred, adjusting slightly as you lay on your side. 
You let the covers slide around you, the cool touch of the pillow beneath your face made you smile sleepily. That’s right, you were in your bed snuggled warmly beneath your sheets. Which is not where you remembered falling asleep last night. 
Does that mean everything that happened yesterday was just a really weird dream? 
If it was, it was the most vivid dream you’ve ever had. And, it seemed a little too crazy to be real. Being thrown off a balcony and being seconds away from shooting a man, all in the same night, was not a usual day for you. 
Your brain was still foggy with sleep, and all you wanted to do was burrow your face farther into the pillow and drift off. Except, that pressure on your chest was making it hard to.
“KeeKee.. please, not right now..” You mumbled into the fabric, your voice laced with drowsiness. There was no response from the feline, but the form shifted slightly besides you, as if to nuzzle closer to you. 
Sometimes you’d find her sleeping beside you, but that was pretty rare. Even so, you weren’t going to let her ruin your beauty sleep. With gentle movements, you slowly slid your arm forward, and your fingers brushed against soft hair.
Your palms hit a firm surface beneath the silky strands. Did KeeKee always have this long of fur? Did she gain weight too? You only ignored your suspicions, and slowly pushed her off your chest, farther across the bed. Sighing happily, you pulled the covers closer to you, embracing its warmth. 
You felt something stir beside you, and the warm figure snuggled back into your chest. You groaned softly, you were too tired to take this attitude from the cat.
Lifting your arm again, your fingers quickly reached up and grasped the warm silhouette. This time, however, you let your hand travel down the form. Until you halted suddenly, your fingers grazing against something smooth and hairless. You didn’t remember KeeKee having any bald spots.
Slowly, you felt farther along. You could feel curves in the surface, cracks even. 
What in the worl-
“Is this how you plan to wake me every morning?” a voice grumbled sleepily through your fingers. 
Wait a second. There was a person in your bed?!
Your eyes shot open, the curtains thankfully covering the morning light from blinding you as you jumped out of the covers. Instinctively, your leg shot forward, kicking the stranger right in the side. He was sent tumbling off the bed with an audible “oomph,” and a heavy thump reverberated around the room. Followed by silence. 
You kneeled on top of the bed, heart pounding as your nerves settled. You blinked, you had recognized that voice. Had that been Lucifer?! 
You hurriedly crawled across the bed, your head peeking from off the side of it as you peered below you. Laying face down, was the familiar naked back of the fallen angel. His blonde hair messily spread across the wooden floor as he lay there motionless.
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!! Are you okay?!” You yelled down to him. He stirred, his head nodding slowly under the hair. 
“You know, not too bad actually. Believe it or not, i’ve taken harder falls.” He mumbled against the wood. 
Lucifer shifted, rolling onto his back. He looked up at you, before blowing a few strands of hair out of his eyes. He looked totally fine, if not tired from the sudden awakening. A few rays of the morning light beamed through the window, casting some of his features in a red glow as he watched you. God, he was gorgeous. 
“I don’t remember falling asleep in my bed, what happened?” You asked him, slowly sitting up from your position. He mirrored you, lifting his torso from the ground. 
“You didn’t expect us to sleep in a chair all night, did you? I’d be cracking my back for days if that was the case. You look so peaceful when you sleep, so I couldn’t bother to wake you. But yes, I moved us to the bed.”
“So yesterday was real..” You whispered, 
“Uh, yeah. I killed a bunch of scumbags and saved you from becoming a splat on the pavement. Yesterday was definitely real.” 
Lucifer sat up fully, before getting to his feet. He stretched, raising his arms above his head before opening his mouth up in a yawn. He was already dressed in a pair of loose fitting sweat pants as he strolled to the bathroom. Did he put those on using magic?
You stood from the edge of the bed, quickly walking to your dresser and pulling out a casual outfit. You began slipping it on, before turning towards the open bathroom door.
You watched Lucifer’s back flex slightly as he bent over to wash his face in the sink, your eyes drinking in his figure. Lucifer looked nothing like the ancient paintings visualized him to be. Your brain immediately recalled the image of Alexandre Cabanel’s famous painting, ‘The Fallen Angel’.
It depicted Lucifer as wide-shouldered, toned from head to toe with thick muscles. Nice calves too. Yet, standing here before you, he embodied an angel much more than he did in that painting. Elegant, serene, otherworldly. 
Like how the candlelight perfectly illuminated his pearly-white skin, as if he was being basked in moonlight. Or how his touch was like velvet sheets against your skin, soft and delicate as he ran his fingers down your waist. 
He exuded a certain feminine grace, that enraptured you when those pretty eyes of his sent you looks of adoration as you rambled about your current fixations, or gave him more lessons in art history. You smiled warmly at the thought, he was precious to you, no doubt. 
“You know what, I’m thinking.. pancakes! We’ll finally put that big kitchen downstairs to use and make some breakfast.” Lucifer broke you out of your thoughts, as he walked up to you, pulling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Damn, did he change without you even noticing again? 
You smiled as he approached, the thought of food making your stomach growl. You were unbelievably hungry, seeing as there wasn’t exactly time last night to stop for a meal. 
“That sounds like a good idea, we’ll get everyone else in on it too and eat together, a big hazbin-family breakfast.” 
Lucifer nodded as he turned away from you, his eyes scanning the room. “Which reminds me, that means I can give Charlie the tuxedo…” He trailed off, turning to you slowly, a look of panic on his features.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
Lucifer rubbed a hand down his face, growling at himself. “I must have left the bag with her suit back at the club! Ugh, I'm such an idiot.” 
“It’s still early, it won’t take you more than a minute to get across the city. Go get her a new one.” You commanded, pointing towards the balcony doors in your room. 
Lucifer followed your finger, and then nodded quickly. “You’re right, I’ll go do that.” Quickly, he adjudged his bow-tie, before heading for the doors. 
It wasn’t until his hand was just inches from the handle, did you see the rather large reddish-purple mark sticking out from the crook of his neck. Your eyes widened and your cheeks flushed as you realized what exactly caused the bruise. How did you not notice that before?! 
Quickly, you ran up to him and grabbed his shoulders, turning him to face you. “Wait! You.. well-you, um… got something on your neck?” 
He regarded you for a moment, confusion written across his face. “Something.. on my neck?” 
Your cheeks heated again, and you quickly reached up to grab the top of his shirt. On even further inspection, and a slight adjustment of his collar, you could make out the fainted curved indents of teeth marks along his collar bone.
Did you bite him that hard last night? You shouldn’t have done that. What if Charlie saw it? That would be so awkward. 
“From.. last night,” you finally uttered, “when I got a little carried away.” 
Lucifer’s gaze narrowed, and then they widened slightly as he understood. A smirk tugged on his lips as he backed away from your grasp. “So?” 
“What do you mean ‘so’? It’s not normal for people to be walking around with hickeys all over them for everyone to gawk at!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms.
“Why, so they won’t know I had you screaming my name, drenched on top of that table?” He asked, motioning towards the very same dining table that you had been laid over in pure bliss the night before.
You quickly averted your gaze to stop a mental picture forming, and instead met his eyes. Sending him a glare for his bluntness. Walking across the room, you bent down and pulled his overcoat from the side of your bed. Brushing off any dirt, you made your way back to Lucifer.
Silently, you wrestled him into the white garment. He stood there and watched as you adjusted his tall collar, trying your best to hide any love marks. After a little more fussing, you felt satisfied with your work and stepped back. 
“There, you’re ready to go! Now, if you’ll excuse me I have to go remind everyone that I am alive.” You spoke. Last night, Lucifer had told you Angel Dust had been dropped in the lobby. It was late enough where everyone should have been asleep, and since nobody came to look for you after that, you assumed Angel had passed out and was probably working through a nasty hangover somewhere in the hotel.
You leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Lucifer’s lips, before nudging him towards the balcony doors. He turned, pulling them open and crossing the threshold. You stood in the entryway, watching him stroll to the black, metal railing. He glanced over the side, contemplating for a moment.
“Now, watch how the pro does it.” Lucifer teased as he turned to face you, his back leaning against the railing. With a little boost, he flipped himself backwards and vaulted over the metal bars. Your eyes widened in shock as he began to fall.
Right as his feet left the balcony, you ran to the railing peering over the side as you watched him plummet to the ground. Beneath him, a large, golden portal swirled alive waiting for him. 
He waved up to you just as he crossed it, the portal swallowing him up and vanishing without a trace. You smiled, shaking your head at his little performance before turning back towards the doors. 
For a few more minutes, you were busy tidying yourself up and trying to look presentable. You quickly squeezed some soap out of the little yellow ducky on the sink counter, and washed your hands and face. Soon, you noticed you were also adorned with a few love marks from Lucifer, and you sat in front of the mirror trying to hide them the best you could. 
Feeling satisfied with your work, you turned away and headed for the doorway that led into the rest of the hotel. Grasping the handle, you slowly cracked the door open, peeking your head out slightly as you listed.
You could hear loud voices down the halls, in the direction of the lobby. There were multiple of them as if everyone was gathered in the same room, you exhaled a breath before straightening. Time to face the music. 
Heading down the stairs, you strolled through the hallways. The voices became more and more audible as you closed in on the large, open room.
“-and then, I looked behind them and there was this guy all bloody and shit, pointing a gun right at Lucifer! I barely saw anything else happen b’for I was sucked into this.. golden portal or something.” Angel Dust’s voice echoed through the lobby, as he retold the events of last night. He was standing in front of the T.V, the residents of the hotel listening from the couches circled around him. They leaned in, engrossed in his story. 
“Next thing I knew, my ass hit the floor right here. God.. I was just so out of it I practically passed out where I was. I don’t remember seeing either of them after that.. hey! you!” Angel’s eyes widened as he noticed you walking towards them. Suddenly, the entire hotel’s gaze was locked onto you.
Charlie quickly shot up from the couch, hurrying over to you. She scanned your figure, searching for any injuries as you stopped before her. After noting nothing serious was wrong with you, she took your hand, gripping it tightly. “Where have you been? Angel just told us everything that happened! Are you okay?” 
“Don’t worry, I'm fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.” You assured the princess, smiling at her. Turning to the spider-demon, you scanned him for any injuries as well. “How about you, Angel. Are you okay?”
“Pfft, yeah. I’m okay. Just a lil shaken up, especially after watching you almost get shot. It seemed you got a good sleep, though.” 
“Wait, you’ve been here this whole fucking time. Did anyone else know that?” Vaggie called from the couch, crossing her arms as she stood up. 
“I did. They’ve been here all night.” Nifty spoke from the floor, her single eye staring into you. 
How did she know that? Did Nifty.. hear anything?
“Uhm.. yes, that’s right. Yesterday was just rough. So, I went to sleep right away.” You answered, lying through your teeth.
“And my dad?” Charlie questioned.
You shrugged, “I have no clue.”
“Well, at least our dear friend is back safe and sound!” A familiar voice exclaimed from next to you. You jumped slightly, turning to see Alastor and his award-winning smile as he looked at you. “Charlie insisted that I come find you, but I assured her you are capable of handling your own affairs. Especially, with our lovely king to protect you.”
You smiled slightly at him, “Yes, indeed. I’m sorry for not coming to see you guys sooner. I just got.. distracted.” 
“With what?” Angel asked, an eyebrow raised and hands on his hips. You paused, before opening your mouth to speak.
You weren’t able to get a word out before you heard a thumping coming from the front doors of the hotel. Everyone turned towards the noise, and through the stained glass, you could make out the silhouette of a rather tall hat peeking from the bottom of the glass.
“Well, ain’t that a little too good of timing.” Husk grumbled from the bar, as he leaned over the counter to get a look at the doorway. You silently agreed, that was fast. 
Charlie recognized the familiar figure as well, and quickly ran to the door. She yanked it open, and there he was. Lucifer stood, adorned in his full outfit, a pink bag in his hand as he strode into the room. Next to you, you swore Alastor’s grip on his cane tightened. 
“Charlie, good morning! How are you doing, sweetheart?” Lucifer beamed as he embraced her, who accepted the hug gratefully.
“I’m good, dad. But, what about you? I heard what happened! Did you kill people?” She eyed him with a firm stare, as if in disapproval of his actions.
Lucifer shrugged, “Only bad people, I had to protect your spider-friend over there. You should keep a better eye on him.”
“Apparently,” Charlie sighed, glancing at Angel behind them before turning back to her father, “and where have you been?”
Lucifer’s gaze momentarily landed on you, and you shook your head slightly. ‘Don’t say anything about it,’ you commanded him through your eyes. Especially not with everyone in the room, hungry for more information. 
“Oh, wellllll, I was just in town and snagged this for you!” Lucifer lifted up the pink bag, a nervous smile on his lips as he held it out for Charlie to take.
Eyeing it curiously, Charlie gently took it from his hands. She peered into it, her eyes widening as she reached in and lifted the garment from its wrapping. 
It was that same red suit that you had eyed through the glass display the day before, gold lapels shimmered in the light above. It was very beautiful, and you thought it would look good against Charlie’s ivory skin. 
Charlie didn’t say anything, instead, she just stood there. The tuxedo in her grip, opened fully to reveal the entire garment. Her fingers lightly trailed down the front of it, grazing across the buttons and textured sleeves. Her eyes were unreadable, a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite place.
“Did you.. buy this for me?” She asked after a moment, looking up at Lucifer. He met her gaze, seemingly a little nervous from her reaction. 
“Well, you said the one you had was getting a bunch of wear and tear, so I thought that would look perfect on you. Do.. you like it?” 
“I love it!” Charlie exclaimed with glee, she set the suit aside and pulled her father into another bear hug. “Thank you so much! It's wonderful, especially since it’s from you!” 
Lucifer exhaled a sigh of relief at her words, he tightened his arms around her, trying to capture every second of her loving gesture in his hold. He smiled warmly, and for a moment it looked like he was going to tear up. 
He didn’t, instead he pulled away, straightening his back. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before looking back at Charlie. The adoration in his eyes was on full display, and if anyone ever doubted that the mighty king didn’t love his daughter, you’d slap them.
Adjusting his collar, Lucifer turned towards the group of onlookers. “Now, who wants some pancakes?” 
Everyone seemed to perk at that, and Nifty hopped from her spot next to Alastor, raising her hand in excitement. 
“As long as they are sssstrawberry pancakesss!” Sir. Pentious declared as he rose from his seat, slithering towards the swinging doors, where the large kitchen lay behind. His little eggs waddling after him, a chorus of ‘oh boy!’s rose from the shells.
“Cmon,” Husk beckoned Angel Dust as he left the bar, “Let's get something in your stomach to fight that hangover of yours.”
“Oh, yes please” Angel smiled, joining the bartender. Even Alastor seemed interested in joining them in the other room, as he slowly followed behind the group. 
“I’m kinda feeling waffles today.” Vaggie spoke up, her hand entwined with Charlie’s as they walked. 
“We can make whatever you wish,” you responded, smiling at her, “except, maybe not eggs. At least with the company we’re keeping.” 
Pushing open the red doors, the flooring shifted into large, white marble tiles. The room was stuffed with cabinets and pantries, multiple fridges also dotted its perimeter. Long, creamy-white stone countertops lined the walls, as well as a large kitchen island in the center of the space. 
There was an empty space on the other side of the room, big enough to hold a large dining table and chairs. It was actually a great place to do something like that, but where could 
Behind you, Lucifer was pulling different ingredients out of the fridge. The shelves were surprisingly well stocked, even the pantries above as he continued to pull out items of importance.
“Dad, shouldn’t you take off your coat?” Charlie asked beside him, as she tied an apron around her waist. You tensed, slowly pivoting to their direction.
Lucifer halted, a box of baking powder hanging in mid-air between his fingers. His gaze snapped to you, then back to Charlie. You were desperately hoping no one could see the sweat beading down your forehead.  
“You’re right,” Lucifer started, as he placed the baking powder on the counter, “I can’t cook with such loose sleeves.” 
He snapped his fingers, and it seemed like the coat began to melt against his skin, shifting into a white turtleneck. The long neck sleeve covered the hickeys that peppered the sides of his throat, continuing to hide your previous entanglement. And, damn, he looked really nice in that outfit too. 
Tying on a red apron with the words ‘Kiss the chef’ embroidered on the front. After pulling up his sleeves, Lucifer began to pull out mixing bowls and other utensils. 
“Just you wait, Charlie, after today you’ll never want anyone else’s pancakes again. My recipe is the best there is.” He spoke, puffing out his chest slightly as he addressed his daughter. 
Charlie only laughed softly, pulling out a box containing waffle mix as she sidled up next to her dad. “I don’t doubt that one bit!” 
As the two continued prepping to cook, you turned to grab an apron of your own. As you walked to the wooden hooks hanging on the wall, you took note of the others around you. 
Angel, Husk, and Sir. Pentious huddled together over another counter, a carton of milk and a jar of strawberry jam laid in front of them.
“How ‘bout we make ya some strawberry milk while we wait, snake boy?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips. Sir. Pentious nodded quickly, his hood raised in happiness. 
Using a tablespoon to take a few scoops out of the jar, he plopped them into an empty cocktail mixer that he borrowed from the bar. Pouring in the milk, he placed the lid on the mixer, before handing it to Husk. 
With a few shakes—and a couple of party tricks consisting of him catching the mixer behind his back, and spinning it across his forearm—the lid was popped off, and Husk poured the bright pink liquid into the glass cup in front of Sir. Pentious. 
Both demons clapped for the bartender, who smiled proudly at the reaction. Sir. Pentious gingerly lifted the glass to his lips, before taking a small sip. After a moment, eyes lit up, a large smile on his face.
He took another large gulp, before thanking Angel Dust and Husk for the drink. 
“Oh, and don’t forget about my egg boisss.” Sir. Pentious turned to Angel Dust, pointing at the small group of eggs looking enviously up at the drink in his claws. 
Angel looked down, his eyes darting to the ingredients in front of him, before he simply shrugged. “Alright, who’s thirsty?” 
“I would like some, please!” Frank yelled excitedly, the eggs behind him jumping in place with large smiles on their faces. 
Angel Dust chuckled, turning away to grab more glasses. Husk was already preparing the scoops of jam, licking a small mess of the red foodstuff from his claws. 
Grabbing the apron from the hook, you adjusted it to your figure, tying it tight behind your back. Next to you, Vaggie was holding a knife in her hand. She was looking down, a firm gaze aimed at Nifty.
“No, Niff. This is not a place to run around with a knife. You can get it back after breakfast.” 
Nifty’s shoulders drooped, a frown on her face as she walked away. She passed by Alastor, who stood silently, watching the bustling group of demons. Wasn’t he going to join in? He was technically part of the Hazbin family. 
Slowly, you approached him, and his gaze snapped to you. His smile widened as he turned to you, the cane at his side rolling between his fingers. 
“Ah, hello there, my friend! Good to see you alive and well, ha-ha,” His eyes squinted as he tilted his head at you, “what can I do for you today?” 
“Don’t you want some food? We’ll be cooking soon. It doesn’t have to be breakfast, I think we have enough here to make whatever you want.” 
Alastor actually contemplated your question for a moment, his eyes staring off in thought. “Hm, well, there was something I had in mind, but the seasoning it needs is not in my possession anymore.” 
“What happened to it?” You asked curiously.
“I simply gave it to someone more in need of it than I. Hopefully, she’ll be putting good use to it.”
A lady friend? You wanted to ask about this ‘someone’, but felt prying wouldn’t get you anywhere with the mysterious overlord. Instead, you beckoned him to follow as you walked towards the counter space Lucifer and Charlie were situated at. 
You both stopped at the creamy-white marbled island. On its surface, was a large recipe book and different ingredients spread across. Alastor had to like something here, even if it wasn’t a decaying deer.
“Let’s see.. we could do french toast, yogurt parfaits, breakfast burritos, oh! We even could make hash browns! What do you think?”
Alastor bent down to look besides you, his eyes scanning the pages. He opened his mouth to speak, before his gaze snapped to another demon coming into view.
“Darling, i’ve finished the pancake mix. I was thinking you could…” Lucifer stopped, locking eyes with the Radio Demon. A frown formed on his lips, and his brow furrowed. “Oh. It’s you.” 
That smile Alastor held widened, as he straightened himself and turned towards the fallen angel. You grimaced, not again.
“Your majesty! What a pleasure to see you this hellish morning, I apologize for not being able to greet you when you arrived earlier.”
“A tragedy.” Lucifer responded mildly, before his eyes settled on you. 
“Well isn’t this nice! The four of us, all working together to make this breakfast special.” Charlie appeared besides her father, a smile on her lips as she tried to lighten the situation.
“Yes, I was just asking Alastor what else he thinks we should make.” You nodded along, before turning to the demon for his input.
“It appears your menu contains a less-than-ideal amount of meat, my friend. Perhaps, some bacon roll-ups? They were a staple for meals back in my days on earth. Very simple as well, just cream cheese, bread, and bacon!”
You were aware of what he was talking about. They were made by putting cream cheese on a slice of bread, before using a strip of bacon to roll it into a ball. You’d spear it with a toothpick and bake it for about twenty minutes, and wala, an odd delicacy.
“That is a great idea! Isn’t it, dad?” Charlie asked, nudging her father with her elbow, prodding for a response.
“It sounds kind of gross.” 
“Dad!” Charlie turned, a slight growl in her voice. “Say something nice!” 
“Bacon is much better than venison, though!” Lucifer quickly responded, following his daughter’s demand. You place a hand to your face, sighing at his antics. A hint of smile played on your lips as you walked forward, pulling Lucifer away by the arm.
Charlie turned back to Alastor, their conversation inaudible as you walked away. You went to the opposite side of the kitchen, where the bowl full of pancake batter lay. Flour messily covered the countertop, 
“You two need to learn to get along, you bicker like an old married couple.” You said after a few moments.
Lucifer shot you a look, visibly distraught by your comment. “That guy gets on my nerves! If it weren’t for Charlie liking him so much, I'd smite him.” 
“Yeah, yeah, tough guy,” you teased, leaning against him. You both sat there for a few moments, silently indulging in each other's presence. Later, you’d ask to seek his company in the privacy of your room. For now, you pulled away, grabbing the mixing bowl.
“So, what did you need my help with?” 
“I thought you’d like to give the pancakes a little.. shape,” he started, turning towards the stove and spinning the dial, “use that artistic talent of yours and make a delicious masterpiece, hm?” 
You perked, he wants you to make pancake art? What a wonderful idea! This was something you have never done before, but you’ve seen enough videos to imitate it. “I’ll go get some dark food coloring, and another mixing bowl.”
Lucifer began placing pans onto the stove burners, placing small amounts of butter in each. They sizzled as the pan began to heat. You stood besides him, slowly stirring the batter as you hummed to the tune of ‘innsbruck, I must leave thee’ 
Soon, Lucifer was humming the notes as well, and you smiled warmly as the two of you stood-by-side, drowning out the other’s chatter with your little tune. 
Nearby, Vaggie and Charlie were giggling to each other as they placed the waffle mix into its designated maker. Small bowls of different fruit and syrup spread around, as they prepared the toppings. 
Alastor stood beside them, a large cooking fork floating mid-air in front of him. Small tendrils snaked around the utensil as it occasionally lowered to the pan in front of him to adjust the bacon. 
“Hey, Al! Why don’cha give us a table over here so we can have somewhere to eat?” Angel Dust called, a stack of plates in his hand. The egg bois stood patiently around him, each holding a set of silverware and napkins. 
Alastor turned to the spider-demon before humming a confirmation. Lifting his hand, he snapped his fingers. A large oak table materialized from a cloud of green smoke, a long, red table-runner rolled free as it hung slightly off the edges.
Chairs seemingly rose from the floor like the undead, rocking slightly as they settled around the table. The egg bois rushed forward, clumsily climbing up the chairs as they began placing the silverware. Using his extra arms, Angel quickly placed the plates down, before doing the same with the glass cups. 
Husk raised Nifty by the waist, allowing her to reach over the table and pour the different liquid contents into their respectable glasses. 
Strawberry milk for Sir. Pentious and his bois, water for Alastor, and chocolate milk for Vaggie and Charlie. Apple juice filled Lucifer’s cup, and your favorite drink was topped to the brim right next to his.
In front of you, two bowls of batter laid beside the stove you stood at. One was a dark brown, the other a much lighter shade. 
You had cleaned two ketchup bottles, before slowly pouring in the different batters and filling them full. Using the bottles, you’d make batter shapes on the pan, and use the lighter shade to fill in the lineart.  
Right now, you were attempting to make the outline of a duck—who would have thought?—for Lucifer. It was coming out surprisingly well, in your opinion. The lines were rather smooth, and the beak looked like a beak so all seemed good. 
You switched bottles, ready to begin filling in the pancake. Before you felt someone sidle up behind you, fingers grazed softly down your back with familiar warmth.
“What are you doing now?” Lucifer peeked from behind you, getting a glimpse of your work. You moved over slightly, inviting him in front of your cooking easel. 
“Take a guess,” you smiled next to him, “I figured you’d want something cute to start off your day.”
“Well, it seems you made it too cute to eat.” Lucifer pouted, as he stared at the little pancake. You laughed, reaching for a spatula and gripping the pan handle with the other hand. 
“And it’s too cute to let it get cold and then throw it away.” You spoke, lowering the spatula into the pan. You shimmied it underneath the pancake, before flipping it quickly. As it landed, the image of the duck became much clearer, the lines flat and smooth. 
“I’m just glad you love me enough to combine my two favorite things.” Lucifer smiled, before he nuzzled his cheek softly against yours. You moved your head slightly, letting your lips graze against his cheekbone. 
Looking down at the pancake, you lifted it slightly to check whether it was done. Seeing the golden-brown hue, you lifted the ban from the burner. Slowly, you slid the duck-cake onto the finished pile. 
There were two plates of hot, delicious pancakes. One was simply everyday pancakes, which Lucifer had made. Yours on the other hand were handcrafted  Each one was a unique shape. There was a smiley face, an octopus, a butterfly, a fish, and now, a duck. You smiled proudly at your creations. 
Picking up the plates of pancakes, the two of you walked towards the dining table. The egg bois were already seated, and the others were finishing up their tasks.
“Finally, let’s eat!” Vaggie called towards the group of demons slowly gathering around the table. Charlie picked up a few waffles from the stack, and placed them on a few plates. 
Vaggie appeared next to her, a small plate of french toast in her grip as she too began moving around the table. 
Alastor set a large, flat dish in the middle of the table. Small toothpicks stuck out of the bacon wraps, steam wafting slowly from the interior. Nifty reached out and grabbed one, placing it on her plate.
You turned towards the pile of pancakes, grabbing a spatula to begin setting them on a separate plate before Lucifer slid beside you, watching your movements.
“I’ve got this, Darling. You go sit down.” He nudged you away from the plates, towards the table. You sent him a warm smile, before turning and taking a seat next to Sir. Pentious and Husk. 
“Saved a seat for me, did’ya?” Angel Dust smiled at Husk, before plopping down into the seat next to him. He had a large fruit bowl, a multitude of sliced colorful produce nestled together.
“Only because you’d bitch if I didn’t,” Husk replied, a faint smile playing on his lips as he drank from his glass. To be honest, this was the first time you saw Husk take a sip of something that wasn’t alcohol. 
Charlie lowered the large plate of remaining waffles onto the table, before brushing her hands against her apron and walking to her own seat.
“Dig in, everyone!” she exclaimed, her smile infectious as she served herself a stack of french toast.
Nifty’s eyes widened in delight as she took a bite of the bacon wrap, while Sir Pentious marveled at the designs of your handcrafted pancakes.
“Here you go, little lady.” Lucifer bowed slightly to Nifty, setting down the steaming tower of pancakes in front of her. She clapped her hands with giddy, before turning to Lucifer and giving him a pat on the cheek.
“Good boy.” She teased, before bursting into giggles.
Lucifer’s smile faltered, and he leaned back. He chuckled nervously, backing away to grab more food. He quickly walked around the table, before setting waffles onto each of the eggs boi’s plates. They licked their lips hungrily, as they stared down at the delicacy in front of them. Lucifer stood up, a hand slowly reaching behind his back.
“A good friend of mine told me you boys fancy ice cream, is that right?” He looked at Frank, who nodded his shell rapidly. Lucifer grinned cheekily, as he pulled forth a large tub of vanilla ice cream.
“Well, good thing for you, nobody said you can’t mix a little dessert with breakfast once in a while.” 
The egg bois practically went berserk seeing the holy grail of yummy deliciousness. They vibrated happily in their seats as Lucifer scooped a large glob on top of each egg’s waffles. It began to slowly melt, running across the waffles surface like syrup. 
He stepped back, as the eggs began to devour the food on their plates. Mumbling a thanks through their full mouths as Lucifer strode away, grabbing pancakes for himself.
He sat down across from you, his eyes moving from the scene around him and then on to you. He stared at you for a moment, while you were busy stuffing your face with the food on your plate. After a moment, you met his gaze. 
“Food too hot, or something? You keep staring at me.” You teased, tilting your head at him.
“It’s just hard to tear my gaze away,” he spoke, “when there is something much more delicious in front of me than the pancakes on my plate.” 
Your cheeks heated, and you averted your gaze, reaching out to grab a bacon wrap. You twisted the toothpick between your fingers, and inhaled the scent as it wafted from the small bundle.
It wasn’t too bad, and you were about to take a nibble before you saw Lucifer’s watery eyes. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he only sniffled in response.
“You’re going to eat his wraps before you eat my pancakes?” He pouted, lowering his head in mock-defeat. Rolling your eyes playfully, you took a fork and cut a small piece of pancake from the rest. Taking the bacon wrap, you stabbed the other end of the toothpick through the small square. 
Lifting the bacon-pancake duo to your lips, you pulled them from the toothpick with your teeth. You swirled it in your mouth, your eyes rolling back as the flavors burst on your tongue. 
When you looked back at Lucifer, he was staring intensely at you. A smirk playing on his lips, before he sighed dramatically. 
“Now what is it?”
“Nothing.. just thinking about how that could be me.” 
You burst out laughing when those words left his lips, shocked at his sudden bluntness. Sir Pentious turned to you, giving you a look of worry as you almost choked on your food. 
After a moment, you cleared your throat. You sent Lucifer a glare for almost killing you, and he only chuckled before turning his attention from you.
Charlie, who had been sitting a few chairs away, turned to you. She smiled warmly as she spoke, “thank you for helping us with this. I really liked your butterfly pancake!”
You returned the smile, nodding your head. “It was no problem at all, I think we all deserve to have a good meal surrounded by friends. It’s you who brought us all together, so thank you.”
Charlie blushed at your words, before turning her attention back to Vaggie. Who was talking to her about an idea regarding the hotel. 
You looked around the table, taking note of the smiling faces and cheerful conversation. Alastor was helping Nifty cut some of her pancakes, his precise strikes with the knife seemed familiar to that of cutting steaks.
Sir Pentious was handing his eggs each a piece of french toast, helping them drown it in syrup as they sat there happily. Slight traces of ice cream still around their mouths.
Angel Dust and Husk were busy picking fruit from the bowl, with Angel making some kind of lude comment as he watched fruit juice dribble down Husk’s chin. Who only growled and playfully swatted at the spider-demon.
Your gaze stopped in front of you, resting on Lucifer. He had finished almost his entire plate, and now was resting his chin against his knuckles. His elbow rested against the table, and he shifted slightly to tilt his head at you. 
“Well, what do you think? Would you have preferred breakfast in bed?” He asked, taking another sip of his apple juice.
You shook your head, smiling at him. Contentedness spreads across your features as you let the food settle in your stomach. 
“No, I could get used to mornings like this,” you spoke softly. 
Lucifer nodded, his fingers reaching out to graze yours. You laced your index finger with his, and tapped his knuckles softly. 
“Yeah, me too.” 
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who doesn’t enjoy some fluff about cooking with your lover? just pure fluff today, but i hope you guys enjoyed this! :)
sorry about that long wait, forgive me 🙏
taglist: @ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @loslox @sukxma @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @laurenlaurie @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @mint129106 @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @lowkeyhottho @wings-of-sapphire @kottenox
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jamminvroomvroom · 4 months
Text
something in the orange.
ln x fem!reader
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in which lando can’t always have what he wants. and neither can you.
i’m so back! missed u xoxo i kinda hate this with a passion but i had to force myself to write something bc i was getting the writers jitters lmao. pls tell me what you think and what you want next! hugs
inspired by: something in the orange by zach bryan (ouch)
songs to set the mood: call out my name by the weeknd, all of evermore actually, leave the door open by the silk sonic
warnings: 18+!! minors, BEGONE!! smut, angst, wee bits of fluff, language, alcohol mentions, inappropriate workplace relationship (reader is an engineer @ mcl), slight age gap (r is older), mutual pining, mutual denial (kinda), unprotected sex (L bozo)
3.2k words
the first time it happens doesn’t really count.
you’re drunk and lando’s worse. tensions boil over at some after party, neither of you can bare it, and he’s shoving his key card into the slot of his door while he sloppily kisses your neck. you cannot take
any responsibility for your actions that night and disregard it as a write off.
explaining away the morning after, when you fuck him again, sober and begging, is a different story.
oh, well.
it happens again. and again, and again, and again.
different cities set the mood and the danger turns you on. you trade your mclaren administrated work shirt for lingerie, and your inhibitions for good sex.
he’s younger, just a couple of years between you, but he doesn’t show it. he makes you forget it, every single time he rearranges your spread limbs on a mattress. he makes you forget his age, and the fact that careers will be over as soon as another soul finds out what you get up to when the chequered flag falls.
lando makes it easy. a flick of the wrist and a curl of the tongue makes you sob, and he smirks into the crease of your thighs every time. and when it’s over, and you’re both spent under linen sheets, you can’t even regret it. not when he makes you laugh until you cry and keeps you warm as you drift off to sleep on the rare occasions that you let yourself stay.
it can’t continue. it can’t, you tell him and yourself. every morning after is punctuated with promises that this is the end. and every time, you manage without each other until the next race weekend, when he looks at you in that knowing way that makes your thighs clench.
-
lando can’t think straight.
he never can when he slides between your thighs. it feels like home.
you’re somewhere in the middle east, he can’t actually remember where right now, not when he pushes deeper and you clamp down around his cock, so hard that he chokes out a shaky breath.
“how do you feel even better every time?” lando groans, grinding into you nice and slow.
you slur out a moan in response, tipping your head back even further as you do. it gives him the perfect opportunity to burrow into your neck, kiss over your collarbone, rock into you harder.
everything is warm, slick. this whole situation, it’s a well oiled machine now. lando sends a text and you turn up five minutes later. he ushers you into the room and then, clothes leave a trail from the door to the foot of the bed. what was once a place holder, a way to get some after a shitty race, had become something to look forward to, something that made his heart race. the anticipation, the danger of you made him weaker than he ever had been.
at first, he hated the hold you had on him. it didn’t mean that he could end this, though, not when he couldn’t help but stare at you in the garage. not when he was transfixed by the glimpse he’d get of your collarbone under your work blouse, or the stray hairs that fell over your face when you were concentrating on the data screens.
“lando, i need- i need…” you gasp, trailing off as you arch even further into his sweat glistening body.
lando smirks, sliding a hand down your
body, pinching your nipple on the way. he already knows what you need. he finds your clit, teasing over it a couple of times.
you lock eyes, warning him to give you what you want. he just grins, licks his lips and continues faint glides over the bud. it sends shockwaves over your body, and you convulse underneath him. you writhe, and writhe, and whimper and keen as your orgasm washes over you. his eyes snap shut, barrelling into you as the pleasure hits.
then, there’s silence.
he lays on top of you while you both return to planet earth, no sound but pants of breath and a soft hum from you when he finally pulls out. you smile softly when you rise from the bed, swinging your shaky legs over the side to stand.
“you staying?” lando breathes. he’s laying on his front, arms flexed as they cross beneath his head.
“not tonight, lando.” you tilt your head apologetically, voice soft and sweet. he frowns. you ignore it, and search for you underwear.
“come on, stay.” he sounds desperate to his own ears, cringing at the way the words come across, but your filter it out. you’ve become an expert at navigating - and more often than not, ignoring - the emotional strings that he tugs on. the ones that attach to your cold, cold heart.
“can’t. you’re gonna have the team here bright and early. ‘m not risking jon seeing me here when he comes to wake you up.” you explain, jumping into your jeans as you tug them up your legs.
“he won’t care.” lando argues, childlike in his negotiating.
“i care.” you scold. you hear the soft thud of his head hitting the pillows. you know you’ve won this round.
lando’s quiet for a while after that, letting you dress yourself. as you’re searching for the bag that you can’t remember if you brought or not, he springs from the bed, making a beeline for the door. you think he’s being gentlemanly, but quickly realise you’re being foolish. the fucker is blocking your exit.
“lando.” you raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms, unimpressed.
“i know, i know, i’m gonna let you go. i just…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, pondering his next words.
“you just…” you usher him along.
“i’ll let you go if you promise to have dinner with me over the summer.” he smirks.
“are you… have you lost the plot?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head.
he tried this, sometimes, tried to get you to go on a date, or get you to do something alone that didn’t involve engineering or a surface that you could fuck on. you’d naively thought he was past this.
“can we just try?” he gives you a look somewhere between i want you so bad and the infamous lando norris puppy dog eyes. lava heats your cheeks and your belly, and the butterflies come out of hibernation. you couldn’t deny, you wanted to try. but, at what cost?
“text me.” you murmur, gesturing for him to move.
“so, that’s a yes?” lando questions.
“text me, and i’ll think about it.”
he decides that he’s gotten the best possible answer out of you, and finally let’s you make your great escape.
you almost collapse on jelly-like knees the second the door shuts behind you. standing your ground with him was getting too difficult, too tiresome. the boy was hard fucking work, and he always got what he wanted.
you’d often daydreamed about him taking you out, getting dressed up nice to sip wine and eat too expensive food, and eventually getting undressed. you realised, however, that those kinds of thoughts were to be banished, after you got caught up in fantasies during a race and almost had the pit crew put mediums on during a bout of rain.
wanting him was dangerous. it could be career ending, reputation destroying, heartbreaking.
one date wouldn’t hurt, just to satisfy his appetite. he’d probably get bored eventually. you wouldn’t let it get further than one meal, one last night with him, and then it would stop.
one more time. just one.
-
you’re waiting on your sofa for the text that tells you he’s arrived.
your hair is curled, messy. just how he likes it. you’re wearing something short and black. your high heel taps against the floor as you bounce your leg nervously.
he’d texted, just like you’d told him to, and then a date was set. just one dinner, one time only. you were gonna tell him that, too.
it’s a bit of fun, you think. dinner and shag. companionship. it was lonely on the road, and sometimes each other was all you could have. it made sense, you figured, that he had honed in on you. you’d done the same to him.
just when you think he’s late, there’s a knock on your door. you were an expecting an “i’m here” text, not the full package. after all, this date was just a formality, right?
you try not to shake as you make your way to the door. lando looks so good that you almost cave and say, “sure, let’s give this a go, eh?”. he’s wearing a shirt that fits painfully well, clinging nicely to a delectable frame. the buttons he’s left undone provide a gorgeous window to his collarbone and the necklaces that hang from his thick neck.
“you look beautiful.” he compliments, rakes his eyes over your body.
“don’t look so bad yourself.” you try to tease but it comes out flustered. you ignore the way his eyes light up.
“you ready?” he asks, you nod.
your heart flutters when he effortlessly takes your hand in his.
-
the restaurant is in the middle of nowhere, and you’re the only two people dining. maybe it’s because of the ‘closed’ sign that gets placed on the door when you arrive. so, he’s gone all out, you think. you’re shocked at how hard he’s tried to keep this private. maybe this isn’t the formality you think it is, maybe this isn’t his way of feeling better about meaningless sex. maybe it wasn’t as meaningless as you pretended it was.
he had you belly laughing within minutes, laying the charm on thick. wine and conversation flowed effortlessly and you were quickly regretting saying yes to this. you were in danger.
in a moment of silence, you catch his eye from across the table.
“you know, this is a one time thing, right?” you almost whisper. you almost kick yourself, why would you say that now? it doesn’t even phase him.
“that’s what you think.” he grins, devilish and stunning.
“i mean it.” you smirk.
“sure you do, honey.” he says, it sounds a lot like ‘game on’.
-
you stir, eyes slowly fluttering open. orange light washes over you, dancing in the pair of eyes you find staring back at you.
the eyes watching you sleep belong to the same person whose strong arms are wrapped around you, nice and secure.
you croak out a good morning, and he grins at how hoarse you sound. it was all his fault for making you whimper and scream, begging and crying for a release.
the date had gone really well.
“coffee?” lando offers.
“just the one, need to get home.” you bring things back to reality.
two coffees and four orgasms later, you head home.
-
the blurry pictures of you and him leaving the restaurant make you ill.
no one can quite tell it’s you, not yet anyway. twitter is ablaze.
faceless accounts call the blurry woman in the pictures the cruelest of names. you cry for hours, and then you stop for a bit, cry some more. rinse, repeat.
you pull on a jacket, scramble for your car keys. this time, you’ll mean what you say.
-
there’s a knock on the door.
when he opens it, you shuffle inside like you always do, coat hangs on the hook with a scarf to match. silence lingers until you reach the kitchen. the kettle hisses. you didn’t even know that he knew how to use one.
“this has to stop.” you say. emotionless. inside, agony sinks into every emotional cut and scrape. you don’t let him notice.
“i know.” he agrees. he’s seen the pictures, too. “okay.”
the kettle is forgotten, two mugs abandoned; he carries you to bed.
one last time.
-
two fingers loosen you up for him, drawing you steadily over the edge. he doesn’t stop there, no. he slows right down, letting you ride out your high, but only for a second. he speeds up once again, grinding his fingers into you at godspeed, and you feel your eyes dampen with tears.
your entire body glistens with sweat and your release, the overstimulation making your toes curl and your back arch. you wonder if the tears streaming down your face are just a result of the way his fingers are curling so deliciously against your walls, so good that it hurts, or if it’s because you know this will be the last time he gets his hands all over you.
“lando,” you cry, grasping at nothing. he’s got you naked in the middle of his bed, and he’s still fully clothed, kneeling between your spread thighs like a man on a mission.
his motivation is to make you stay, to make you regret the fact that once this is over, you’re choosing not to come back. his need for you, that raging desire that fuels your every encounter, it has only increased tenfold since the night of your date. but lando isn’t stupid, he knows that after those photos were published the brakes were on this… thing. this was his only chance to convince you to keep this going, but he was fighting a losing battle.
“what do you want, honey? you want me?” lando grunts, speeding up even more. you didn’t think that what he was doing was humanly possible, but the stars you saw and the way your body was practically levitating off the bed said otherwise.
“only gonna have me one last time? is that really what you want, baby?” he continues to run his mouth, crooning over you. you call out his name, begging. begging for another release, begging that you could stay here forever. with him.
and then you see white and god, and you convulse until you’re collapsing into the mattress. your vision is blurry from the tears and the haze and the unwavering emotional torment.
you grab at him, languidly pulling him in. it takes all the strength you have left to secure him, your feet shoving his jeans down his hips while your hands rip his t-shirt off. you’re keening, too sensitive and too needy. you’re agonising over his touch, you need him to sink so deeply into you, so that you can feel him when it’s over and you’re far away from what almost feels like home.
his breath shakes and his eyes gloss over when he pushes into you.
“let me stay like this, just for a minute.” he chokes out. you nod rapidly, your eyes squeezing shut. he kisses into the crook of your neck, panting and mumbling sweet, painful words over and over.
your hands run over golden planes of warmth and muscle, memorising every dip and crease of him. he slowly rolls his hips and your belly clenches, veins set alight. one of his hands scoop up up your wrist, and the motion creates a deep grind unlike anything you’ve ever felt. your wrists are pinned above your head and lando hovers over you so that he stays level, continuing that slow grind, hips hitting yours hard and slow.
he draws a low whine from the back of your throat, one that makes his hips stutter and your pussy clamp down on him as a pleasurable result. you can feel fingerprints forming around the tender skin of your wrists and you want him to dig in harder, slip into your veins and become a permanent part of you.
lando’s eyes are greyer than you’ve ever seen them, boring into your own. you don’t think you ever break eye contact, staring deep into his soul as he stretches every possible part of you. he doesn’t want this to end, you can’t pretend that you do, either.
he changes his angle slightly, long strokes replacing the short drags, but he keeps hitting deep. something possesses you to lean in, as much as you can given his hold on you, and you capture his lips in a kiss that takes him aback for a second. he melts into it, though, and then you’re chest to chest. tongues meet, and moans meld, your legs snake around him like vines.
“need you to come for me, honey. one last time, yeah? need you to feel good for me, baby.” lando mumbles into your mouth, wet and hushed. it’s overwhelming, and everything goes blank. all you are aware of is the burst of pleasure, his hold on your limp wrists, and two grey green eyes that are begging you to stay.
-
you get dressed quickly, whisper goodbye, and disappear out the door. something stops you, and you need clarity, for him more than for yourself.
you peek round the door, finding his unwavering gaze. your forehead creases, awkward anguish. the way you’re looking at him, deep and sympathetic, it makes you ache. this may well have to be the last time you look at him this intently. it stings.
“it’s better this way, you know?” you murmur.
lando nods, begrudgingly, yet obediently in defeat.
and then, once more, you’re gone and the latch on the door clicks somewhere far away in his apartment. he sinks into the bed, drowning in bed sheets and agony. his head thuds against the pillow and he stares out the window. the orange sunset makes his eyes burn. there’s something about the colour that makes him nauseous now that you’re gone.
-
a few days later, you’re in a meeting that you can’t focus on. he’s sat opposite you, not that you spare him a glance. it’s too painful.
you’ve been here for hours, your body becoming one with the office chair that you’re sinking deeper and deeper into.
yes, the car needs to be faster. yes, your heart hurts. yes, we need to up the strategy game.
you zone out, for the umpteenth time, losing yourself in the dark orange sky. it’s getting late. you crave sleep in your lonely bed. while you stare at the swirls and hues of warmth, you shiver.
lando, on the other hand, hasn’t heard a word said since he sat down. not when his eyes instantly find bruised wrists on the other side of the table. they match the bruises on his heart, the ones that you’d left behind when you’d grabbed it, stolen it from its solitude cage.
he watches you watch the sunset, and then the meeting is dismissed and everyone rushes home for dinner.
“who was that you took for dinner, then, noz?” one of the mechanics jeers at lando as you’re leaving the boardroom. those damned fucking photos would never let you sleep well again.
you’re a couple of steps ahead of them, ears perked up. you’re nauseous.
“no one you know.” lando laughs uncomfortably, waving it off. he sounds exhausted.
you fight with the revolving door and rush to your car. you scream as soon as the door slams and you’re in the drivers seat. you thrash against the steering wheel, and then you scream again.
when you compose yourself, and pull out of your parking space, you notice lando’s range rover ahead of you. when you get to the end of the drive, he will turn left, towards london, and you will turn right.
the devil on your shoulder murders the angel in cold blood, silencing the only voice of reason you had left.
when you reach the junction, you turn left, too.
-
yikes. anyways lmao
-
taglist
@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane
removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3
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crystalflygeo · 11 months
Note
Ok but imagine dragon!Zhongli fills you up with eggs and by the time they hatch you end up with a bunch of tiny baby dragons squirming around like worms. What'd you do then??
WHAT'D I DO?? TAKE CARE OF MY CHILDREN OF COURSE???
"Worms", the audacity they are dragons and they are my precious babies omg
But fr tho imagine like a dozen of tiny baby noodles with a bit of fur and tiny stubby horns just curling up on your lap or around you as you sleep, draped around your shoulder, on top of your head (and Zhongli's) that is so cute pls too adorable. 💕
I'd imagine they'd be still too weak/young to fly let alone shapeshift so they're housebound, zhongli and you have to take turns watching them and going out to do stuff. Also since they're dragons/reptiles they wouldn't need milk?? rather probably just smol pieces of meat or like soft food aaaaaaaaaaaa too cute imagine feeding them with a spoon carefully.
Until they start teething that it, then they become lil menaces, biting everything on sight including each other when play fighting and/or their father (lmao) Zhongli would make small crystals they can bite into instead of destroying everything 💕
Speaking of their father imagine Zhongli feeling the urge to take dragon form just so he can curl around them and soothe them in a way they'd be more instinctually comfortable with (PAPA DRAGON ZL INSTINCTS RUNNING WILD IMAGINE HIM LICK-BATHING THEM SVCGAHBAK 🥺💕💕💕) tho they 1000% recognize you as mama and like to burrow in your hair or under your shirt (babies noooo) and just be close to/on top of you at all times
JUST A BUNCH OF TINY NOODLE BABY DRAGONS I WOULD WEEP I WOULD CRY like I did these???? I made them with my husband?? my babies??
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smth like this is you will AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
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izvmimi · 5 months
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cw: this is so goofy. selfship-coded. izuku has a subtle breeding kink (i wrote this what's new). pregnancy mention. condom use. suggestive, minors dni.
you sit warily on the toilet seat, your fiancé right outside the door, and your foot tap tap taps as you wait for the little piece of plastic in your hand to decide your future.
ironically, you don't have the energy for trepidation anymore because you feel like by now you're at this literally every couple of days.
but baby it doesn't feel good?
but don't you want me to feel all of me?
i promise i'll pull out better this time.
just the tip is fine, right?
izuku's outside the bathroom door, giving you privacy as though he wasn't nose deep between your legs just last night, slobbering all over you like a starving puppy presented with a wet meal. for a moment it occurs to you that if you really are pregnant, even if you can clearly handle it financially and emotionally, you'll shove that stick so far up his ass that-
your timer goes off and it's negative.
you sigh.
izuku bursts in at the sound of your voice, immediately uttering a supportive "is everything okay baby?" the shine to his emerald eyes makes you wonder if he actually, deep down, does want you pregnant.
"perfect. no baby."
he grins and kisses your forehead as you adjust your panties up and stand to wash your hands. squishing your cheeks as he has trouble getting his hands off of you, he promises that he'll actually invest in some condoms.
you don't believe him, but you consider making that appointment to your ob-gyn to get an intrauterine device you've been thinking about sooner rather than later.
---
another night comes and he's looked at you like that and he continues to be built like that and you have no choice but to let him do whatever he wants with you, even if it is to drag you not really kicking and not really screaming from your work, going from holding you around your midsection to lifting you up effortlessly so that your crotch is pressed against his face. he sniffs you like an entire dog and you're both terribly embarrassed and terribly aroused by his sheer want for you. izuku is already pressing kisses to your mound through your yoga pants as he carries you to the bed.
"izuku, i still have shit to do!" you argue, but you're holding on tight to his head to keep your balance, as if he would ever let you fall.
"you've worked hard enough," he says, muffled by your legs around his face. "i'm asking politely. may i please have some pussy?"
the fact that he's asking this, just as you land on the bed with a practical bounce is almost offensive. you sit up.
"are you even asking?"
he leans in, grinning as he gets on all fours to descend upon you.
"i mean yeah, of course," he replies, knowing full well that you won't say no as he pulls off his shirt. you shake your head, but your shirt goes over your head as well. he catches your lips in a kiss first, and you sink into the bed under his weight as he practically smothers you in kisses. wet, sloppy, silly, you laugh against each other, groping each other with your hands, and then it occurs to you both at the same time.
condoms.
you pull away, his teeth still grazing at your lower lip.
"izuku, do you have any?"
he blinks for a moment, sitting back on his heels. then his eyes widen.
"yes!"
izuku sounds a little too excited just for condoms, and your eyes narrow, but he practically leaps off the bed and is burrowing through his workbag for something, and you squint, expecting a box.
what he comes up with dries you up so fast you'll need iv fluids.
his grin is wide as he presents to you, proudly, a string of pristine looking condoms, all printed with all might's million watt smile right on the packaging.
"see, i didn't forget!"
a moment of silence passes as you beg the heavens above that your adonis of a partner is not fucking serious about fucking you sideways with his mentor's brand of contraceptive rubbers.
"izuku."
"what?"
"..."
you walk out of the room, immediately, so irate you can't speak.
"WHAT?!" he asks, following you out immediately. "come on!"
there's no way you are coming or cumming anywhere in the next hour. not like this.
you find your seat back at your desk and crack open your hardback textbook as hard as you can, doing your best to ignore the whine his voice has taken. he can actually die of blue balls for all you care.
"come on, it's not that bad!"
you snap your head at him and give him a look, and he immediately recants.
"okay, i'll go out right now and get normal condoms, i promise."
you lick the tip of your index finger and turn the page of your book.
"please, my dick is literally so hard right now, don't you care if i die?"
"perish. let me see," you reply, without turning your head.
"wow!" you can't' help but stifle a laugh at his disbelief. you hear him shift upwards and turn, not even realizing he had been kneeling.
as he stands, you do get a look at his... impressive member. maybe he could die like this, the way that thing is rock hard and waiting desperately for you.
you blink, look at your book, then look back at him. he's looking at you with the puppy dog eyes, and he still looks the way he does and he's still built the way he is, and...
...
moments later, you're folded into a jackknife because your pro hero fiancé somehow always gets his way, but at least, mercifully, his mentor's condom isn't wrapped all over what's pumping in and out of you.
right before your eyes roll back in your head, you can still see all might's smile, and maybe you should have just stuck with the damn pregnancy tests after all.
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Text
@steddieas-shegoes :)
the media and fans have a field day with it. steve and eddie have been public for years yet there's pictures all over twitter of steve cozied up in a booth in the corner of whatever bar, tucked tight into gareth's side under his arm with eddie nowhere in sight. a different fan posts a tiktok of them from a different angle and a little closer and you can clearly see that steve is drunk. his eyes shine unfocused in the camera flash and his cheeks are flushed. in the video he laughs loudly at something and just before one of cc's security guards blocks the view, steve leans in and buries his face in gareth's neck and gareth's fingers go to his hair.
the cheating allegations come out after that. article after article with the photo on the front page but it's nothing but radio silence from the band's twitter. no statement from eddie or gareth. fans think they're hashing it out behind the scenes and are preparing themselves for gareth's exit statement from the band or for the news to hit of steve and eddie breaking up.
none of that happens.
gareth stays in the band, steve and eddie go on like normal. they're papped in a starbucks in new york looking just as much in love as they were before the scandal. eddie and gareth don't behave any different in the videos they post of each other or on stage.
it kind of dies down after that- until a video goes up on the band's youtube one afternoon, shot that morning.
they try to keep themselves as authentic as they can, show the fans that not everything is sunshine and rainbows in the industry, and that they're real people who do real people things, too.
in the video, someone knocks on a hotel door and jeff answers. he says something that's purposefully scripted very badly and it gets a laugh out of the guys. the video shows them walking into jeff's room and it's revealed that it's a room tour. they pan around the corner into the main room and there's a lump in the bed.
there's no awkward silence between them, just a laugh from freak and a "jeeeff, it's almost ten a.m." and then eddie's pulling back the covers to reveal a slumbering steve.
people watching expect the footage to cut off abruptly or for eddie to angrily demand the situation, but again, it doesn't happen. he just laughs and squats down on the side of the bed and runs his hand through steve's hair until he wakes up.
"hey, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with fondness as he smiles a syrupy smile that hundreds of fans have dreampt of being on the receiving end of. "have a good sleep?"
they see steve reach out and pull eddie in by the head for a kiss. the video goes back to its scheduled programing after that, eddie following steve into the bathroom to get ready.
they don't do many interviews in the span of all this happening so fans and the media are left wondering what in the world is going on between the five of them. the boys act the same on stage every night without any signs of jealousy between them.
and then steve is photographed wearing a hoodie that fans can clearly see belongs to freak just from the size alone. neither steve or freak are small guys, but the garment is like a dress on steve. it almost goes down to his knees and the arms hang at least three inches passed his hands. it threatens to hang off of one shoulder but goddamn does steve look cozy and comfortable, burrowing into the hood pulled over his head like a little hamster.
the hoodie isn't what gets their attention, though.
it's the fact that the picture is from the band's soundcheck, to the band's twitter, and that steve is sitting on gareth's lap at his drum kit, while wearing the hoodie, and while eddie is leaning down and kissing him. gareth doesn't look put off by it. he's looking somewhere off camera and laughing but his hand is still on steve's waist and steve's is tangled in eddie's wild hair.
it answers all and none of everyone's questions.
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perlelune · 4 months
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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | v.
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Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.
Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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Grandma’am’s dissonant notes fill your room as you lie on the bed. The old woman’s wobbly soprano has been the background noise to your awakening this early morning.
At least it diverted you from your dire thoughts.
You rose with low spirits, defeated. You didn’t dare leave the cover of the warm blankets.
You’ve stared at the ceiling for so long, the flower patterns have morphed into smudges of pale color swirling in your vision. It’s all you did the entire morning. Stare at the ceiling while awful thoughts collide in your head. Perhaps for hours. You’re not sure. Time has been a foggy concept as of late.
You can’t even remember when everything started spinning out of control. The beginning of your unraveling.
The day before Coryo held you as you wept in his arms. For a while, in the warmth of his embrace, the uproar in your head fell silent.
Now it’s all noise again. Chaos. You have no desire to climb out of bed, face the day. Perhaps it makes you a bad guest. But hiding is easier. So it’s exactly what you elect to do.
Hiding until it becomes an impossibility.
Or until the door knocks in that case. 
The sound startles you. 
You don’t answer. Instead, you burrow yourself further beneath the sheets. 
The knock starts again. Stubbornly, you ignore it.
“I’m coming in,” a familiar, airy voice announces.
The creaking of the door reaches you and your brows crumple. A slight weight plops on the mattress, making it dip under you. You freeze, willing yourself to remain still. 
A delicate perfume hangs in the air. Guilt seeps through you. It’s not like she’s done anything to you. If anything, she’s been kind. It’s about the hot layer of shame that has grown thick roots into your being.
Her gentle lilt flutters above you.
“I won’t move until you talk to me; I’m worried.”
You gnaw on your lip. The seconds stretch to minutes, arduously long, seemingly endless as she remains on your bed. It dawns on you how deadly serious the older of the Snow cousins is. She will not go away until you speak to her.
Besides, your mother’s voice echoes somewhere in your head. Your behavior is ill-fitted for a lady. Here you are, a guest in someone else’s house, acting like a petulant child.
Though you balk at the prospect, it’s time to face the world.
You huff out a quiet sigh under your breath before peeking above the blanket. 
“Tigris,” you mumble. 
Her thin blonde brows are pinched. 
“You missed breakfast,” she notes. She tilts her head, scrutinizing you as her frown deepens. “First dinner, now breakfast. It’s becoming a habit.”
Concern glimmers in her honey orbs. Your chest squeezes. The last thing you want is for someone else to feel terrible. You push the blanket further away from you, sitting up as a contrite smile tugs your lips. 
“Sorry.”
Tigris’ slender fingers latch onto your forearm. 
“Don’t apologize. Just keep me company today.”
You attempt to deflect, “What about Coryo?”
The blonde releases a deep exhale, crossing her arms in frustration. You’ve gazed upon a similar crease on Coriolanus’ face before.
“He barely has time for me these days. Between his work with Dr Gaul, the University and…” A small smile plays on her lips as her voice trails off. “You of course.” Your cheeks heat at her implication. Of course, you’re aware of Coriolanus’ dedication to showing up for you as of late. But it never occurred to you that it could impede on Tigris’ time with him. It saddens you.
From what you recall of the glimpses of them you caught growing up, there was a time the two Snow cousins were inseparable. After all, ever since they were young, Tigris has been everything to him. A mother, a sister, a best friend. It was clear on Coriolanus’ face too. Fondness was etched on his face whenever he looked at his cousin. 
She leans over you, her tone pleading.
“Come on, I really need a friend, and something tells me you do too.”
Shoulders sagging in surrender, you concede, “I’ll get dressed.”
She leaps to her feet, a victorious smile breaking onto her face.
“I’ll have the maid bring you some food before we go,” she sings. “When’s the last time you ate anyways?”
You purse your lips, shocked at the realization of how long it’s been since your last meal, eating having toppled to the bottom of your list of priorities the last two days.
You give an honest reply.
“I…can’t remember.”
Concern scrunches Tigris’ angular features once more. She then takes her leave and you glumly get ready for the day.
Food is brought up to your room. You nibble down every bite of cheese, bread and eggs until you’re full.
You find the massive trunk Coriolanus had the staff carry up to your room. You marvel as you peer inside, rummaging in search of an outfit for the day. His thoughtfulness astounds you. You don’t deserve a friend like Coryo.
Once you’ve removed your night robe, it pools at your feet. Your stomach sinks at the sight of your bare form. Bruises still speckle your skin. They are starting to fade but the ones on your hips and thighs are still quite prominent. The thought of Coryo touching you this way crosses your mind and you shudder. 
You know you shouldn’t feel this way.
It’s like your friend said. It’s better that it was him than some stranger with nefarious intentions. After all, you were both drunk. You both didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s obvious Coriolanus is as inconvenienced by this as you are. 
You should move on, let the incident scatter amidst the unfortunate mistakes of youth. It’s what common sense dictates. Otherwise guilt will chew you to the bone.
But you can’t. 
Every time you think of that night, you’re unsettled, an inkling of wrong humming through you.
It haunts you. Though you wished it didn’t.
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The remainder of the morning is spent with Tigris. The two of you scour the city in search of various fabrics and items her boss, Fabricia Whatnot, asks her to collect. 
It’s a nice change of scenery and you welcome it.
You even get to see Tigris work on a dress, a magnificent wedding gown whose sight stirs a bittersweet feeling within you. It reminds you that your own dress was ruined, a matter you’ve yet to solve. 
…If there’ll even still be a wedding. 
As the afternoon sun crests to a scorching peak in the bright blue sky, she offers to stop by a café which you readily accept. You both sit beneath a wide umbrella on the outdoor terrace. 
You take small bites of your petit fours, the sugar melting on your tongue providing much needed comfort.
“Does your grandmother do this every morning?” 
Tigris’ lips pause above the rim of her porcelain cup, her honey gaze widening at your question. Realization then lights up her face.
“Oh, the singing? Yes, almost.” A fond smile spreads onto her thin lips. “Grandma’am likes to reminisce about the glory days of our family, you know…before the war.”
Your brows furrow.
The glory days...
Could the days before the war truly be referred to as that? The people of the Districts were forced to serve the ever-growing needs of the Capitol citizens, reaping no benefits from their hard work and being kept docile by the perpetual threat of execution.
Exactly like now.
You hardly see the glory in that. Maybe for the victors, the ones who get to stand atop the mountain while others try to claw their way up from the bottom until their hands bleed.
But, as usual, you don’t voice your treasonous thoughts, simply nodding in response.
Tigris and you both relish the comfortable silence for a while. She doesn’t urge you to talk and you’re grateful for that. Idle talk is an arduous task when constant worries gnaw at your mind.
While she may not know the depth of your predicament, you appreciate that Tigris picks up enough not to prod.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” she says. “Quiet. I like to come here when I need a moment to myself.”
Your gaze roams across the luxurious garden near the café. You get lost in admiring the pretty flowers and the swan fountain. It reminds you of your own garden, your beloved roses, probably withering from neglect. You’ll need to tend to them soon.
“It’s beautiful,” you admit. You nibble on your bottom lip before your eyes find hers. “I’m sorry for being…difficult this morning.”
Tigris’ shoulders heave as she replies nonchalantly, “It’s quite alright.” Mirth sparkles in her amber orbs. “I’m sorry for dragging you all over Panem to run those errands.”
You give a small smile. “It’s fine. I enjoyed the distraction.”
You look down and fiddle with your napkin, arranging it in different positions several times in your lap.
“Is something the matter?”
Tigris’ abrupt inquiry makes your head snap up.
You hesitate beneath her compassionate stare. After a long, quiet minute, your shoulders slump.
“I just loathe that I am such a burden to you and Coryo,” you mumble.
Tigris tilts her head, genuine confusion scrunching her features. “A burden? Don’t be ridiculous. You could never be that to me...” Her slender hand reaches across the table to drape over yours. “And even less to Coryo.”
A wry chuckle leaves your lips. “Well, he’s got better things to do than taking care of me.”
She shakes her head.
“Taking care of you is a pleasure to my cousin.”
You wince. “I very much doubt that.”
Tigris’ head lowers, her hand rising to her mouth to dampen her chortle.
“What’s so funny?” you ask, frowning.
“It’s just…you really don’t see how much you’re changing him?” She studies you momentarily before heaving out a long exhale. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course,” you reply immediately. She smiles.
“I haven’t seen him focus on something other than his ambitions in so long…not the way he focuses on you.”
Your jaw hangs slack at her admission.
She pauses, seeming to mull over her next words. “Coryo…when he returned from his service in District 12, he was so different. I thought all the warmth in him was gone, that he was becoming like my uncle.” A distant, sad look dims her eyes. “A cold, calculated man. But when he’s around you…" Fondness illuminates her face while she gauges you. "I don’t know, it's almost like he’s back to his old self. The little boy I knew, sweet and caring. My little Coryo.”
Her fingers tighten around yours as she beams. “You’re good for him, so don’t worry about being a burden. It couldn’t be further from the truth.”
Tears of relief almost spill from your eyes at that but you swallow them.
Instead, you return her smile. It may have been at the behest of your dead brother but you couldn’t deny how comforting Coriolanus’ presence has been, his friendship the silver lining above somber clouds. Coryo is the only one who gladly listens when you talk about Sejanus and how much it aches that he’s not there anymore, his passing having left a void that can never be filled. It’s too painful for your mother and your dad’s in plain denial. If it weren’t for Coryo, grief would have eaten you alive, you’re certain of it. 
It’s hard to picture your life without him in it now, in some form or another. In fact, you don’t think you even want to. You may have lost a brother but the gods were merciful and granted you another.
After you leave the café, you and Tigris take a leisurely stroll through the Capitol’s streets. The talk you had with her rejuvenated you. For the first time since that awful night at Clemensia’s, you feel a bit more like yourself. 
All is well until someone strides out of a bakery, someone you know too well. The sight of the familiar face freezes you in your spot. 
Your eyes then lock from across the street. You watch the recognition dawn on his face. 
He starts making his way towards you. 
A surge of panic bleeds inside you. You briskly grab Tigris’ hand.
“Let’s go,” you urge, already pulling her in the other direction. 
“Wait…what?” Befuddled, Tigris lets you drag her along as you start racing through the streets.
You don’t dare look behind you, your heart thundering inside your chest. 
You dive into a busy street. The crowd cloaks you as you zigzag between bodies. Strangers give you dirty looks but you don’t care, focused on running as far away from who you saw as you can. 
You and Tigris end up in a narrow alleyway, catching your breaths behind a dumpster. 
You shoot worried glances at the other end of the alleyway. You lost him, you realize. A strange blend of emotions fills you, every single one carving a larger hole inside your chest.
“Who was that?” Tigris asks between uneven breaths.
Shame swells within you as your gaze lands on the cobblestoned floor.
“My fiancé,” you reply.
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“Hey.” Your head lifts from your knees, your eyes traveling to the blond head peeking through the slight opening of the door.
Concerned cobalt orbs study you. You avoid his scrutiny by focusing on a random spot on the bed sheets. He enters the room. As he sits at the edge of the bed, you bring your legs closer to your chest.
His soft tone breaks through your hazy train of thoughts. “Tigris told me what happened.”
You unleash a shaky breath before finally meeting his gaze.
“I’m a coward,” you say.
His hand rises to cradle your jaw, his thumb collecting an errant tear you didn’t even realize had spilled over. “You’re not a coward,” he assures.
Your lip wobbles. Of course you are. You saw William, your own fiancé, and ran away from him. Who does that? An idiot and a coward. But you didn’t know what else to do. You panicked. When his beautiful green eyes locked with yours, all you could think about was those same eyes filled with hate and betrayal if he ever learnt what you did.
“I am,” you affirm.
Coriolanus strokes the side of your face, his tone growing firmer, “It’s a tough situation…”
His sentence is halted by a loud banging downstairs. 
Your eyes go wide.
“What’s that?”
The faint echo of your name being yelled from outside reaches you. Your heart leaps as Coryo’s features go taut, his jaw clenching.
His lips stretch in a tense smile.
“I'll go check. Stay here.”
“I’ll come.”
You jump from bed and make a beeline for the door. He tries to placate you by holding your shoulders, blocking the exit with his towering frame.
“Princess, I don’t think-”
You glower at him. You can’t run forever.
“You can’t stop me, Coryo.”
Tension hangs in the air for some minutes, thick and electric, before he relents with a deep sigh, “Alright.”
Heart in your throat, you take slow steps down the stairs. Coryo trails behind you in silence.
Your name’s uttered again, the door rattling as he bangs against it. You flinch.
Trembling feet drag to the front door. Your hand spreads over the wooden carving. You take a deep breath before hesitant words stumble out of you.
“William, you can’t be here.”
“I love you. Of course I should be here.” 
Unwavering determination vibrates in his tone. Guilt flares within you. You swallow the impending rush of tears. You don’t deserve him. He’s good, kind, honest…and you’re a liar.
“I saw you with that girl, Snow’s cousin. Talk to me, baby, please.”
“I just need a little time...alone.”
“What? Is this about the wedding preparations? Is it your parents?” He sounds confused and hurt. Your heart wrenches. You’re hurting him. It’s exactly what you meant to avoid. “Whatever it is, we can fix it. We can face anything as long as we’re together.”
The desperation thickens in his voice.
“Come out. I just want to see your face, please.”
“I…”
Your fingers hover above the gold door knob. But your hand is snatched by long, stern digits before it can fully wrap around the handle. Coryo tugs you away from the door. You gasp as his deep voice resonates in the lobby. 
“You need to leave her be. She told you she needs space, William,” he says.
“Snow!” A mirthless chuckle ripples from the other side. “I knew it had to be you somehow.” You leap as the hinges of the door shake as William’s fists slam against it once more. “What did you do to her?”
Tears well up in your eyes. 
“Right now, it’s you that’s hurting her,” Coriolanus says, his fingers curling around yours. “What kind of husband-to-be doesn’t respect his future wife’s wishes?”
Your brows collide. You wish he didn’t speak like that. After all, you’re the one at fault. But fear keeps the words chained to your throat.
“I just need to see her, please,” William insists.
Your stomach lurches. This is insane. Your fiancé is on the other side of the door and you won’t let him see you.
Maybe William’s right. Maybe talking to him will fix everything.
You sniffle and wipe your tears. You take a solid stride towards the door again, fingers ready to open it. 
“I think I should, just for a few minutes.”
Your decision is made but Coryo’s hand cinches around your wrist. This time his hold is much firmer, on the cusp of painful in fact. 
You grimace as he draws you away from the door, near the stairs.
He bends over you to whisper hotly, “To tell him what, princess?” Angling your chin upward, he sighs. “That you gave me something you denied him all this time? After just a few drinks?” Heat nestles in your cheeks. It is true. Both you and him got near that point so often, but you were adamant about waiting for your wedding night. It was your excuse every time. You doubt he’d take it well if you told him what occurred. While you want to believe your relationship will survive it, Coriolanus’ words are tossing fuel on every insecurity within you. Your confidence wavers, your hand sagging in his hold.
Coriolanus’ intense blue gaze is hard on you as he continues, his raspy tone low and foreboding, “Or perhaps, you’ll make up a lie? You really think he won't see it on your face?” A contrite expression settles on his handsome features. “You wear your emotions on your sleeves. He’ll know right away.” His thumb sweeps over your cheek to wipe a lone, stray tear. “William seems like a good man, but such a betrayal…it’d break the two of you before you even began.” He leans closer, his lips ghosting over your earshell. “He will never forgive you.”
All hope shrivels inside you, the last remnants you still held onto crumbling to dust.
You almost made a mistake. Of course Coryo’s right. 
“Do you trust me?” 
You give a frantic nod, releasing a shuddering sob.
He smiles at your response.
“Then go upstairs,” he instructs. “I’ll talk to him, fix everything.”
Seeing you linger at the bottom of the stairs, longing gaze darting to the door, Coriolanus squeezes your hand in reassurance.
“Don’t worry, princess. I’m going to make sure you still get to have a wedding at the end of this.” His smile grows wide. “I promise you.”
You search his face. Confidence radiates from his expression, planting the belief that he’s right deep within you. You shouldn’t have doubted him. Coriolanus has gone to great lengths to help you. Even now, he’s protecting your future. It’s more than one should ask of a friend, yet he’s doing it for your sake.
“Thank you,” you say. His hand slackens around yours, a satisfied glint dancing in his cobalt gaze. You rush up the stairs, not daring to look back in fear you falter once more.
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