#And now he has ingrained himself in my brain

[hopeful-bat]

literally been weeks and I still fall asleep imagining my high school boyfriend snuggling towards me, feeling his breathing in the crook of my neck. Ok man. When will I be normal.

[courtneedsatoru]

Lovesick Puppy | FirstKiss!Satoru x Reader

Summary: Satoru never thought about kissing before, but now he can't stop thinking about how your lips would feel against his. Word count: ~2.1k

Art credit: @courtneedsleep [ me ;) ]

“Have you ever kissed a girl before?” Suguru asks his best friend expectantly.

“Even if I haven’t yet, I’d still be the greatest—“

“So you haven’t,” Suguru cuts him off and waves his hand dismissively. ��Well that’s good. Shoko said she hasn’t either. Yet. Aren't you curious about what it's like?"

Well, Satoru had assumed he could just "take" you whenever he wanted, for lack of better words or timing. Technically he could get away with kissing whoever he wanted (Geto included) with the privilege of those blessed genetics. Satoru had not conscientiously thought about kissing you, already acting like you were his and he was yours.

Until now.

Satoru's fingers presses against his lips wondering if yours were softer than his. What if when he kissed you, his lips were chapped which you thought were repulsive? Pshh, no, that's ridiculous- his perfect lips were never chapped? His leg bounces up and down nervously. For the first time, Satoru was floundering.

. . .

Suguru had ingrained the idea of kissing you into Satoru's brain. Something inside him was rewired, and he could not seem to control it. Perhaps he didn't want to control it. Satoru sure didn't mind the way you had permeated all of his senses when he was daydreaming about you.

The sunlight kissed his skin, but it wasn’t the type of kiss that Satoru was craving for. He blinks the drowsiness out of his eyes. In his peripheral field, he freezes at the sight of your resting form slumped over the school desk. He should check what time it is, not run his fingers through the mess of your hair spilled across the surface.

Wait. What was he doing? Why did his hands move automatically to brush irresistible, silky locks of yours?

After all, weren’t you just his classmate? His pretty and smart classmate. His classmate who’s the only one who plays along with his teasing and returns those big goofy smiles back.

Yeah, just a classmate that he wanted to kiss senseless.

Satoru couldn’t help himself. Not when you looked so ethereal, so perfect like this. Not when your oh-so-kissable lips were just slightly parted just for him. Not when he was leaning closer and closer, just for one sample of a taste, his lips hovering right over yours and-

T H W A C K

“Had a nice nap, huh? You fool, you think you’re allowed to sleep in my class?”

Fingers drumming the weapon of choice (a textbook), Yaga throws Satoru a sharp glare that breached past both of their shades. Next to him, Suguru has a coy, not-so-innocent smile on his face.

“What were you dreaming about that made you drop your infinity, Satoru?”

Even without being present, you somehow managed to break through his defenses. Satoru’s barrier was no longer effective when you unknowingly decided to invade his mind and soul. If you were going to be a problem, Satoru is going to have to fix it.

. . .

“You should’ve seen me! I hollow purpled the shit out of that curse! It kinda looked like Suguru but more hair and wrinkly, even though they’re not that much different.”

Satoru follows you around on your campus stroll like a golden retriever with a helicopter of a tail that just won’t calm down.

“Of course, you always win,” you reply with a sweet smile that he could just drink up for days.

“That’s it??” A big pout creases his mouth. “Nothing about how strong or cool I am? Or handsome?”

Your sweet smile is immediately wiped off and replaced with a deadpan expression. “You don’t need my approval, Satoru. You already know that you’re strong.”

“Yeah, but what about cool and handsome? I know it, you know it, why can’t you just say it out loud?”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“My bestest friend?”

“That’s Geto.”

“Just once.”

“That’s enough.”

Satoru wanted to whine and pout, but that would be terribly uncool of him in front of you. At this point, he was almost ready to beg but he had an even better idea.

“That’s fine if you don’t want to show me your affection with words. There are other ways too, you know.” His hand grasps your wrist so you can finally turn around and look at him to give him the attention he deserves. Satoru raises your hand up and ducks his head just underneath. He hums and relishes the weight of your hand against his face. “You should be more nice. You’re the only who’s actually gentle and kind with me.”

Oh. Did he just…

…

“You’re… impossible… and cute, I guess,” you concede not as begrudgingly as you intended to be.

“Cool, not cute,” he corrects. Satoru takes initiative, moving your hand back and forth so he can feel the friction against his scalp until you finally get the hint and pat his head for him.

He’s. Too. Cute.

“This is so uncool, Satoru,” you chide.

“I told you to praise me instead.”

“No.”

“I wanted a reward.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Do you want edamame-flavored mochi?”

“No.”

“???”

“I want a kiss.”

Shit, he didn’t mean that- the words just flew out his mouth without much thought. Your hand stops moving against his fluffy hair. Satoru’s heart bashes against his rib cage. Shit, shit, shit-

You suck in a sharp breath. “Satoru, don’t be a greedy shit. Let’s go get mochi.”

. . .

Satoru is a greedy shit.

He sits on your kitchen barstool watching you microwave popcorn, elbows propped up on the counter. The pout on his face was a thousand times more pronounced with the way his cheeks were smushed together against each palm of his hands.

"Jesus, I didn't know you wanted popcorn that badly." You shake your head oblivious of Satoru's heart yearning for something more than just playful elbowing and banter. No, he didn't want popcorn; he wanted you. The only acceptable way he wants that buttery treat is if you were the one feeding it to him with your lips, mouth to mouth-

Salty and sweet explodes on his tongue as a handful of popcorn is shoved into his mouth.

"Happy now? That should get you all fixed up. You're so out of it lately."

Body moving without thinking, his mouth latches onto your fingers before you get the chance to pull them away. He laps at them like a starved dog. His mouth is so wet and warm… and wet… the hot slick coating his tongue is all you could think about. Goodness, how much was he salivating earlier, and was this all really just from popcorn?

He cleans the butter off your fingers watching the entire time the way your pupils dilated.

“Mm, tastes so good…” His tongue swirls around your index finger for one last good measure. Even after pulling back, a string of saliva connects your fingertip with his tongue. “Even better like this. Can I have another one?”

“I… need to wash my hands.”

You hurry off to the bathroom gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles were turning white.

Breathe, you try talking yourself out of this haze of lust. But as soon as you close your eyes, Satoru’s lips puckering around your fingers immediately runs its course back into your mind. The temperatures, the textures, the need are vividly hardwired into your brain. Fuck, what if it was your own tongue instead of just your fingers? Your mouth waters at the thought.

Freezing cold snaps you out of your thoughts. The icy water runs for a while until you’re sure enough you can face Satoru again without crumbling in front of him.

Knock knock knock.

Or not.

“What are you doing? I know you’re not shitting.”

“How do you know that?”

“The faucet is running, and you said you’d be right back, not back in forever.”

You open the door and are met with an impatient Satoru. Not him having separation anxiety, whining and chasing his little tail around waiting for you. How the hell is this the same man who acts so independently and wildly and so sure of himself? He could do whatever he wanted, but everytime, he chooses to put himself in a frenzy all over you.

The two of you walk back to the couch for a movie night. But when you check the bowl of popcorn, it’s already empty? What the fuck?

“Satoru?” you ask already knowing what he’s gonna say.

“Yes, princess?”

“I want popcorn.”

“Mm, is that so?”

Someone wipe that smug-ass grin off his face. “There’s no more popcorn. I wanted popcorn.”

“You have popcorn right here, baby. Tastes exactly the same.” Satoru winks and taps his bottom lip. What a tease.

“I meant actual popcorn. Something I can actually chew on.” You walk up to Satoru, plopping the bowl of popcorn crumbs onto his lap. “Go refill it.”

“Who says you can’t chew on this? I don’t mind you being rough.”

Your nails dig into your palms, anything to distract the tumbleweeds in your stomach.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweetheart. You haven’t kissed anyone before?” Oh, of course, he already knows the answer. He just can’t help but tease you even more.

“Yes, actually,” you retort snidely. Satoru’s jaw drops prepared to accuse you for being a bit fat liar.

“Li- mmph…” But before he gets the chance to reply, you shut him up for good.

‘Rough around the edges’ was an understatement. It wasn’t smooth at all, your lips smashing against his, the inner part of your upper lip folding upwards and the bottom gnashing against his teeth. But neither of you couldn’t care less, whether it was an attempt to get a taste of that popcorn, silence that spewing mouth of his, or perhaps a mix of both. No, you shouldn’t lie to yourself. You’ve been aching to feel those plush lips of his against yours from the start.

Satoru groans. Fuck, right now he didn’t want your teeth, he wanted your lips. He pulls back just a centimeter away before realigning the two of yous’ lips properly and diving in for a proper taste. One he could savor and relish. The way you mold perfectly against him so deliciously shoots Satoru straight to heaven and back.

Your hunched form hovering over his wavered. Hands flying up to stabilize yourself, you grip his shoulders so tightly that your nails were sure to leave red marks on them. Satoru knocks the bowl off his lap, and the crumbs spill everywhere onto the floor and in between the crevices of the couch. How annoying it would be to clean up later. But it was completely worth it to pull you down and have you tucked into his lap, your thighs clenching each side of his own. He’s completely and utterly enveloped by your presence, something which he could bask forever in.

Wooziness begins to cloud your mind. A reminder that you need oxygen because you’re human. But Satoru clearly isn’t. The moment you try to pull back for a breath of air, he’s immediately chasing after you for more, more, more. His hands fly up to the back of your head and neck, lips clinging onto yours in heated desperation.

You can’t help but give in to this lovesick puppy. He’s licking, sucking, and nipping feverishly like a dog scarfing down his dinner and licking the bowl clean.

“More,” he whines and tries to kiss you again when you detach your lips with a loud pop. You turn your head away and block his lips with your hands before he devours you again. When he pries your hand off his needy mouth, you stand up and scurry away from him because you know he’ll never stop.

Satoru pouts at the loss of contact. “You didn’t like it?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not that.” An evil grin takes place of that bratty pout. “…I j-just need a break. Please.”

Satoru eyes you up and down carefully. The sight of your disheveled hair and the flush that spread from your cheeks down towards what’s visible of your chest did unspeakable things to him.

“Oh, that’s good to hear. Your break’s over, princess.”

“What? Wait, hold on, just a minute-“

You backpedal a few steps back thinking Satoru would follow after you. But he doesn’t, just sitting there with his legs all manspread out waiting for you to take your rightful place on his lap.

“Cursed technique lapse: Blue.”

And in a blink of an eye, you crash face-first onto his lips for round two.

[scudslut]

Fiending for Daryl x F!reader at the point where they're super domestic and sexually comfortable with each other. Like making jokes like "I'll do that thing you like if you take Dog for a walk ;)" and just being super teasing and playful with each other

lazy mornings w/ daryl

daryl x f!reader

wc: 1k

warnings: teasing, slight allusions to sex, mdni

a/n: omfg i adored this idea. thinking about daryl finally super comfortable with you, able to relax and just be himself is just🥹 i hope this is close to what you wanted!! i kinda got carried away in my imagination with this one lol. alsooo, i have a few other requests i’m working on, i promise i’m not skipping anyone’s i just take forever to write:,)

daryl would absolutely love to tease you. he just loved to see that little spark flash in your eyes, reminding him that you want him and he has you.

he was incredibly shy initiating anything sexual during the first couple years of your relationship. and still to this day it’s not often that he’ll outright vocalize his lust, but rather use his actions and subtle, playful remarks that’ll have you ready to pounce on him the first moment you get. the little sanctuary you call home is his favorite place in the world, and it was only ever you who got to see this goofy, mischievous side of him.

and he found he couldn’t help himself, watching you around the house, so casual and domesticated.

you’d play quiet music often on the little record player he’d found, hair tied up in some messy knot, loose shorts and a small t-shirt the only things adorning your soft skin as you read, or cooked, or whatever hobby was interesting you at the time. it brought out intense feelings inside of him, ones he never imagined he’d ever feel and it almost made him giddy. so happy he could provide that safety for you to simply be, and ravenously hungry to devour you whole any chance he got.

it must’ve been sometime in early may he figured. the sun was bright in the sky no later than 6am the past few weeks. mornings still brisk but afternoons hot and nearing swim-worthy. you both rose late that day, having spent a little extra time in bed where the light flooded through the cabin windows, glowing across fluffy sheets and warm skin, simply too soothing to move from right away. he always woke before you and always had to drink you in for a while, admiring how the sun danced through the strands of your wild hair across the pillows. your chest rose so fluently and calmly it made his own tight. he’d ingrain that picture deep in his memory; your vibrant, lively body something he’d protect till his last dying breath.

you had a leg propped outside the blankets, tossed close to his body subconsciously and he brought his fingers to the soft skin of your exposed thigh, painting invisible shapes. it only took a few minutes before you started mumbling sleepily as he dragged them upwards, towards your inner thigh.

“mmm, good morning,” you breathed softly, eyes still shut but a lazy smile gracing your features.

“mornin' sunshine,” he drawled, leaning down to press light kisses over his artwork. “sleep alright?”

“mhm, you?”

he nodded against your skin. he always slept well next to you, especially now he had you all to himself; your little hole in the woods providing much-needed peace and solitude after all the years without. just you, dog, and acres of tall green trees.

speaking of which, he noticed the door creaking open behind him as he placed more nips and kisses, paws padding across the wooden floors at the sound of your voices finally awake.

his tongue dragged up, grazing over the hem of your panties. your hips shifted beneath him as you moaned softly. “can we make it an agreement that you always wake me up like this?” you gasped when his hands joined in, massaging your plush hips with strong hands.

he snorted at that, “i already always do.”

“mm, right,” you muttered quickly distracted as your hands found purchase on his soft brown locks. your morning brain never failed to amuse him. you’d mutter nonsense half asleep, sure to barely remember when you fully came too.

his fingers were just slipping under the waistband when dog whimpered quietly behind you both. a smirk cast over his face, already hearing your whines of dismay at what he was about to do.

“think somebody needs a mornin' walk,” he pulled away with a kiss to the little bow at the hem. a low groan followed in suit just as he expected and he chuckled slightly.

“D… just a few more minutes.”

but he was already dragging his body off the mattress, grabbing a random strewn shirt and pulling it over his head.

“such a tease, dixon,” he heard from the bed, turning to see you propped up with a phony pout. the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin at your state, hair wild from sleep, and cheeks flushed pink.

“how bout this,” he bargained, leaning back down to peck your ankle and slowly up your calf. “we take him out quickly, and then i’ll bring ya right back here and let ya have yer way with me… sound fair?”

he watched as you feigned contemplation.

“come on, look at that face,” he pointed to dog, who sat patiently at the foot of the bed, tail wagging.

“never thought i’d get cockblocked by a dog, but, alas,” you sighed, trying your best to cover the grin on your face.

daryl bent over, shielding dog's ears. “hey! he can hear ya y’know,” and there was so more hiding your grin, giggles escaping your lips in fit.

he’d never seen you move so fast after that, speedily throwing on a top that barely covered your ass and rushing to the front door.

“come on doggy boy! your dad and i have a date, we gotta make this quick,” you mused loudly through the house, dog chasing after you.

he couldn’t help but shake his head in laughter, following after his family blissfully. this was definitely his favorite place in the world.

sorry i’m so cheesy byyee❤️

[cythena]

JUST FRIENDS

ꨄ︎ synopsis . satoru told your parents you were "just friends" then proceeded to dick you down in your bedroom

warnings . fwb, porn with no plot, protected sex this time, almost getting caught, multiple orgasms, teasing, slight degradation, gojo has is attached, reader's feelings are ambiguous

word count . 0.8k words

notes . 100 posts yippee

"no don't worry, we're just friends," with an emphasis on that part.

satoru was a liar through and through and he'd be caught in a huge one if anyone were to catch you two right now. his broad shoulders covered your own as he dug his nails into your waist. his other hand pushed your back into the perfect arch for him. his strong thighs slammed against your ass, forming ripples for him to admire. you gripped onto the pillow that you sank your teeth into, soaking it with spit and muffling moans of your friend's name. he also tucked his shirt between his teeth to quiet himself.

"shiiiittt," satoru cursed into his shirt. he let it fall out of his mouth. "barely even touched you 'n you're soaking. should've done this way fuckin' sooner, y'know."

"t-toru! i- ngh—" your pretty voice slipped off into a whimper. satoru grinned at how mindless you became. your brain fried from his cock pounding into you. mascara dripped from your eyes onto your pillow now smearing from your watery eyes. you'd surely have to throw it away or maybe satoru could keep it.

it'd be a nice memorabilia. y'know, finally getting to fuck the girl he's been into since he met her. it needed to be framed, never forgotten. not that he could forget this if he tried. he already ingrained the feeling of your cunt around him and the sound of your moans.

"it's okay, pretty, don't need ya to speak. you're doing so good for me," he teased. you could hear your parents walking through the hallway but he didn't slow down. "you hear that-"

"y/n?" your mother called. satoru wrapped his hand underneath your chin and pulled your face up. he urged you to respond, squishing your doughy cheeks and pulling at your swollen lip. you blinked into to focus enough to reply.

"yes mom?" you bit your lip hard.

"pizza's here. you and gojo can come down wherever."

satoru sighed mentally, relieved that she had no reason to open the door. he gave you a particularly hard thrust. one that sent you over the edge just as you were giving your final reply to your mother. your juices spilled all over satoru's cock and dripped down to your bedsheets.

"yeah be down— ngh! in a sec!" you hurried your words before burying your face back into your pillow.

satoru leaned down next to your ear. he dipped his fingers down to your clit where he rubbed delicate circles. his sultry voice soaking you further with a soft chuckle, "naughty girl . . . you came while talking. didn't think you could be so slutty, all for me."

you let out of muffled sob into your pillow. "y-you're such a— fucking b-bully satoru," you hissed. his length continued hitting you in all the right places. he knew he was a bully but you didn't mind at all. you could feel every detail sliding against your walls and going so deep into your guts that you were sure you could taste him.

"i know it doesn't bother you. can feel you squeezing down on me. wanna cum on my cock again, pretty?"

you frantically nodded. your body writhe under the cool palm he dragged over your back and pushed your shoulders down with. you reached a hand back. your brain was overridden with pleasure and you grabbed onto nothing until satoru linked his hand with yours.

"oh fuck fuck fuck toru! i'm cumming!" you gasped so loud you slapped your hand over your mouth.

holding hands while you came on his cock again? how romantic, he thought. it made his head dizzy and his heart pound. he felt his cock twitch inside of you. he held you tighter while his pulsating cock spurted out warm ropes of cum. his eyes shut in bliss as he sighed.

"mhmm, so good . . . you're so perfect f'me."

he rocked his hips steadily before he pulled out. he sank to a sitting position where he carefully removed his condom then tied it and tossed it into the trash. he helped clean your smudged makeup and even replace your pillowcase. he brought you a new shirt to throw on.

"lie down with me," he whined. he wrapped his arms around you and held you close to his chest. he nuzzled his face in your neck.

you gently pushed away from him but it was futile. you sighed and let him hold you. "what are you doing satoru? we have to go downstairs," you reminded him.

"come on it's just an innocent nap . . . as friends." friends is what satoru decided to call you. it's what you were and he was okay with it being just that as long as he got to hold you like this.

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

[abbyshands]

for you

🇵🇸 LINKS | before engaging !!! | m. list | join my tag list!

♡ synopsis; making a home out of catalina island for years on end had been wonderful, but for most of it, you had been derived of the last piece of the puzzle: abigail anderson. you were a skilled medic, so when abby had showed up, you had cared for her, and nursed her back to the girl she was, helping her to heal, and to find home the same way you had. now, it’s abby’s chance to return the favor.

♡ pairing; abby anderson x fem!reader

♡ warnings; lot of game references, some of which include infected, the WLF, plot of the first and second game, loss, violence, etc, general angst (ish) in the beginning, but fluffy at the end, i promise, reader loses her dad in the backstory, and there’s a heavily established backstory for the reader, abby uses nicknames (my love, babe, gorgeous), reader calls abby baby, just general angst n’ fluff tbh!

♡ a/n; sooo this idea has been sitting in my notes app for the longest time, and to be honest, i’m not sure how i feel about the finished product! i don’t think it’s my best work? i don’t know. i like the idea but i’m unsure about the way i executed it. maybe i’ll revisit it at some point, but this is what i’ve got for now ♡

♡ wc; 4.5k

divider creds !

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS. APOCALYPSE.

If someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, you would’ve checked them for a bite mark.

Because they would have been losing their mind.

2034, and all the years beforehand, were years unforgettable. The person you were couldn’t imagine a life that wasn’t the one you had. Infected roamed, and danger lurked. But love prevailed.

And you were lucky to be a part of it.

You were born in Boston, Massachusetts in the 2010’s at an unlucky hour. To an unlucky life. You had lost your mom before you could say your own name, and the only biological family you had ever gotten to know in your life was your dad, who was the reason you were where you were today in the first place.

When you were young, your dad joined a group once asked to by the leader of it, a woman named Marlene. Since then, and for as long as you could remember, this group has been your place to call home.

They called themselves the Fireflies for the very bug they took the name from: Their goal was to spread luminescence in a world full of darkness. Your dad, who was an incredibly skilled medic, was roped into it when you were younger, for that very reason. And because of the group’s dire need for medics at the time, their leader, Marlene, who was an old friend of your dad’s, asked him to join, all but begged him to, really.

Your dad wasn’t one to deny anyone in need. It was in his nature, and it was why he was such a great medic. So, of course, he agreed.

But only if there would be a place for you, too.

Your dad raised you up as a member of the Fireflies, and then later as a medic, and it was because of him that you were who you were: A resilient individual, a survivor, and yet, a person who embodied compassion, just as he did.

The years went by hazily, the older you got, anyway. You became just as immersed into your work as your dad did, bettering your medical knowledge on a daily basis, be it by old books, rusted cassettes, or your dad himself. But all the while, you managed to balance work, love, and family, and, in a world like this one, that was a lot more than most people could say.

For obvious reasons, you couldn’t remember the 2010’s. Then came the 2020’s, which sped by your eyes. But the 2030’s as a general consensus were years ingrained into your brain. Full of friendship, family, and love? At times. But they also encompassed chaos, despair, and pressure, and changed your life forever.

And forever was a long time.

In the year 2033, all that you believed was true about the world as you knew it, crumbled to the ground. In a land following an apocalypse, it wasn’t uncommon to feel as if there was no way out, as if the life you lived had hit a place of no return.

Now, if only there was a way to fix it. A cure, right?

It was late one evening while you were working on somebody in the Fireflies’ medical center, that Marlene came into the room, expression serious, and voice showing for it. Once you had the person you had been caring for under control, you followed Marlene out of the center, and into a room of a pair of people, one familiar, and one not.

Your dad, and a man who would later become a crucial figure in this tale: Surgical expert, Doctor Jerry Anderson.

You didn’t understand what Marlene, your dad, and Mr. Anderson, as you used to call him, were getting at when you were first pulled into that room. All that they were explaining to you was blurring inside of your head.

Because it was unlike anything you had heard before.

Your ears were told a tale that you had heard on numerous occasions. A girl who was only a few years younger than you, was bitten. You weren’t sure how. But it didn’t really matter, did it? Everyone who was bitten turned into an animal in a matter of days. It didn’t matter how she had gotten the bite mark. It didn’t even matter where on her body the mark was. All you knew was that in a few days, this girl that was being described to you, would no longer be human. That she would no longer have control over her body, and she would no longer know right from wrong, up from down, man from woman. All she would know, was kill. Kill. Kill.

Unless she was one in a million.

Ellie Williams was hardly a human in your mind when you originally heard, but a God given chance, to fix the world as you knew it. You never believed you would live to see the day where a bite mark was a good thing, and yet, it was here, gazing you in the eyes.

Immunity. She was immune. The auburn haired girl had been bitten three weeks prior to the date you heard about this, and zilch. As Marlene had explained to you, it was like the mark was healing, not worsening. 

And in a desolate world, where danger lurked every corner, where sorrow was normalized, and where loss was ceaseless, you were desperate. The Fireflies were desperate. Hope like this didn’t come on a daily basis, now, did it?

You jumped on the prospect as soon as you became conscious of it. All of you did.

Graciously unaware that it would blow up in your face.

In the earlier days of 2034, Ellie was smuggled to a Firefly base in Salt Lake City, a medical center, where your dad, Mr. Anderson, and several Fireflies were residing. As head medic by this point, you decided to remain in Boston caring for the members of your group back home, especially in the absence of your dad and Mr. Anderson.

It’s your life’s biggest regret.

Marlene had asked that you come to the Salt Lake City medical center as soon as you could, and to employ someone else to take over for a bit. Mr. Anderson was a good doctor, but he had decided that to perform proper surgery on Ellie, he would need a few more hands. You were honored that it was you he had chosen. To you, it was on the same level as getting an award. And so, alongside Marlene, and a few more members of the group, you made your way to Salt Lake City, your hopes in your hands, and dreams in your heart.

There was a point during the journey, however, where you ran into some trouble. Infected. And naturally, you were not just a medic: You knew how to survive in a world like this, and you knew how to hold your ground.

Splitting up wasn’t usually recommended when it came to any scenario, and for good reasons. However, it was your only choice. You and everyone beside you aside from Marlene, split up to make sure that she was the first one to make it to the medical center. You remember the last thing you said to her like a movie on loop in your head. See you soon.

And it plagues your brain like the virus that grips your world.

See you soon. You wish you had never said it. You wish you had never split up.

You wish it hadn’t happened.

You did see Marlene. But she was no longer alive when it happened. Fear grasped your bones as your body paralyzed, eyes glued to Marlene’s bloody corpse on the second floor of the medical center’s parking garage.

Tears filled your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And then, you remembered.

Dad.

You took off running, brain not even processing that you could be putting yourself in danger by doing so. Whoever had done this to Marlene couldn’t be faraway from the building for all you knew. Hell, they could even be in it. But you didn’t care.

You booked it to the highest floor, where your dad and Mr. Anderson were supposed to be, heart racing, begging and bargaining to the universe, or whatever God there was, or somebody, to ensure that they were okay. That they were just fine.

There are some days where you wish you hadn’t opened that door.

The pair of them, alongside a third medic in the room, were found by you in a shape similar to Marlene. Naturally, you ran to dad first, small, shaky hands reaching out to flip over his face down body.

But you were too late.

Your mind goes blurry whenever it goes back to recall the memory. You don’t remember much: Tears, nausea, shaking, panic. You remember screaming, loudly, at that.

And you remember passing out, before being pulled out of the room.

The second that Jerry Anderson was announced dead, all hell broke loose, and you knew, you knew, it was over. The chance that had been driving you and your family of Fireflies for the last year, was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. Unless a brand new surgeon was going to generously drop from the sky, you were hopeless. 

And it wasn’t even just that.

Because the universe had taken from you the one person you held closest to your heart. To your soul.

Dad.

You had a chance. You all did. 

And, then, it was robbed away from you.

You and your dying group made your way back to Boston knowing just that: That you were collapsing. The days passed by in blurs, each one gloomier than the last. You just weren’t sure what to do anymore. All hope for a cure was gone. All hope for yourself was gone.

In 2036, the Fireflies were disbanded by what little members of it were around to do so, and that was it. It was over. 

Your home was paradise, and paradise was gone.

You didn’t know what to do. Most of the family you had found here in the Fireflies was leaving, searching for a life away from the one you all had known for years. You didn’t know if you wanted to do the same. Part of you wanted to follow suit and leave Boston. Renew who you were. Adapt, and move on. But Boston had always been home, and by leaving it, you were leaving a part of you behind.

But you didn’t have a choice.

It was an early morning in 2036 when you began to pack your bags, readying to go. Where? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that home or not, Boston carried way too many painful memories, way more than you could bear. Marlene was dead. Mr. Anderson was dead. Dad was gone.

You didn’t see what else Boston had to give, that it hadn’t already taken away.

But just, just, when you were about to say your goodbyes, the universe, who had screwed you over in the past, clearly had different plans.

A few members had heard word, from previous members who had left the Fireflies before you, that on the west coast of the country, there was a chance: A chance to find home again, in a place named Catalina Island, a gorgeous land in California.

Risks had failed you before, and so had second chances. But, for once, you wanted to give in. You had to.

So you did.

That’s not to say that the second you got to Catalina Island, finding home once again in your fellow Fireflies, who were just as shattered as you were, that your tale was over. God, it was really, really far from it.

Because there was one more piece to the puzzle.

Abigail Anderson.

Anderson. The last name rang a bell once it escaped her lips. A blonde woman, body bruised, bloodied, and covered from the arms down in oozing gashes. Her hair was short and poorly cut, and from the way her bones were pushing into her skin, you could tell that she was severely malnourished.

Alongside her was a boy, obviously younger than her. Tousled black hair, bruises wherever you looked, and fully unconscious. In your time at Catalina Island, and as a Firefly in Boston, for that matter, you had never seen any pair of people in worse shape.

Not unless they were dead.

You remained head medic once you arrived in Catalina Island, naturally, and you had been managing that way for the last four years. So, when this woman showed up, this young boy by her side, like this, it was you who took control. It was you who nursed them, and it was you who made their scars, in a physical and mental sense, not disappear, but easier to handle. To bear.

By looking at them, by looking at her, it was like a mirror. You saw you.

Which is why you saw her.

Now, if someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, losing your dad, losing Marlene, and losing Mr. Anderson, but falling for his child, you would’ve looked for a bite mark. But now, come the year 2040, where you had made a new life, one that Abigail Anderson was a prevalent part of, happiness no longer seemed impossible.

Because it wasn’t far away anymore, slipping from your fingers, the way it had on numerous occasions. 

It was in your hands.

And you were in Abby’s.

Your eyes were being covered by Abby’s large hands as she led you to a place unknown. You had to assume it was one of the several beaches on the island, sand under your feet, sounds of waves in your ears. A smile had been plastered across your face for what seemed like hours, as Abby dragged you along.

“Come on, Abby. Are you going to tell me what this is about or what?” you asked her for the second time in the last minute. You could hear her low chuckle from behind you, and the way it always happens, comfort surges into your veins.

You had learned from Abby, once you bonded over the mutual loss of your dad and hers at the same man, that once Mr. Anderson had been killed, her and her friends, a few former members of the Fireflies, joined a group named the WLF. You had hence learned that during her time there, she was commonly known as a rugged, scary person, who a lot of people in the WLF didn’t dare insult, nor disobey.

And you couldn’t lie: It was hard to believe that for a second.

You had learned from Abby, also, that her resolve began to slip when she met the young boy who she had made it to Catalina Island alongside, who you had also taken care of: Lev. To put it simply, Lev was a member of a different group, that the WLF was never supposed to come across.

Not unless it was in war.

But he changed her. He did. Some days, you could see how guarded Abby was, how she couldn’t help going back to all she used to know, which was being all but barbaric when she was in Seattle. Closed off, wary. But most days, like today? You knew in your heart, that deep down in hers, Abby Anderson was good. Not innocent, but good.

And that was enough for you.

“Just come on!” Abby chuckled as she walked, not letting up her hold on your eyes for a second as she led you along.

You smiled, shaking your head in mock disapproval. “I have work to do back at the center, and we’re not supposed to be roaming around like this. You know that, right?”

“Babe,” Abby responded in an almost firm tone of voice as her feet quit moving, forcing you to root your body to the spot. It was silent, before she pressed a series of sweet, sloppy kisses to your neck and cheeks, managing to keep her hand over your eyes all the while. She had you crumbling just like that, making you a giggling mess as her lips met your skin.

Her kisses subsided once a million of them seeped into you, and it wasn’t the island heat that had your face warm when Abby was done. “Can you just trust me, please?” she laughed, and you didn’t need your vision to know she was giving you that puppy dog look that had you falling to your knees every time. The one that you couldn’t resist if you gave it your all.

You were too easy. “Yes.”

It wasn’t long before you and Abby reached where she wanted to bring you, and once you did, she paused. She was perched behind you now, large hands over your face, the solacing sound of her sighs coming into your ears. “Okay. Are you ready, my love?”

There wouldn't ever be a day where Abby calling you that wouldn’t make your heart pound in your chest.

“More than,” you easily respond.

As soon as you said it, Abby returned your vision to you, and your eyes can’t help but widen at what you see before you.

Because you never pegged “rugged” Abby Anderson as one for picnics.

“Oh, my God, Abby,” you said more to yourself than the blonde as you slowly approached the scene. Laid out on the sand of the beach was a picnic blanket, a folded blanket, a few pillows, a basket, a few books, and playing cards.

Accompanied by a perfect view of the beach.

“Do you not like it?” Abby asked, and there’s an air of sadness to the way she says it. You turn to look at her on cue, your face one of complete, utter disbelief.

Like it?

“Like it? Baby, I love this. More than know,” you respond, meaning every word. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to care for you. A long, long time, since you had been the receiver, not the giver.

“Abs, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You can see Abby blushing as you approach her and take her face into your hands, her freckled skin burning in heat. She leans into your touch, pressing her forehead onto yours, and holding your hands in her own.

“I just,” Abby sighed, opening her eyes once more to meet yours, solemn expression across her cheeks. “I just don’t feel like I cherish you enough, babe, show it, that is. Because believe me, I do cherish you. S’just, it’s been hard for me to show you how much. All that you did for me and Lev when we got to the island. Taking care of us. Helping us find a home here. I’ll spend the rest of my life saying thank you for it.”

You can feel your soul healing the more Abby speaks.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough to make up for what you did for us, and I wish it was. But I just figured, maybe. . .it could suffice for now.”

“Abby, baby,” you let a small laugh escape your lips as you say it. “You don’t have to make it up to me. At all. I did what I did, because I saw someone in you. I remember asking for your name, and you responded by asking me where Lev was. You didn’t even care what shape you were in. All you wanted to know was if he was okay. You reminded me of me.”

“You reminded me of dad.”

You couldn’t help but sigh, letting silence seep into the air around you as your brain battled to process what you had just said. You didn’t speak on your dad as much as you likely should: Abby knew that, and so did you. Talking about him made your chest compress, and your throat would fail you, making it feel as if you were choking. As if you were helpless. As if you were there all over again. But Abby knew as well as you did, that when your dad came into discussion, it was for a certain reason. 

And for that reason, Abby didn’t speak: She hung fire. For you. For you.

“We live in a world where people combat their own morals just to survive. There’s no good guys. No principles, no rules, no laws. Anyone you come across is just as bad as you, and if not, they’re worse. But when I saw you? I knew. I knew that wasn’t you. Not anymore.”

You know you’re rambling by now, saying whatever comes to mind as soon as it does, but you can’t find it in you to care as you go on. “You want to believe I don’t know how much you care for me. But you don’t need to show it, Abby. I know you do. Right here.”

You take one of Abby’s large hands into yours, and as cliché as it is, not that you care at all, you place it over your heart.

“You feel that, don’t you? That’s all for you, baby. And it���s there that I feel how much you care about me. It’s there that I know.”

The same silence that was here before comes back. But this time, it’s not sad, or dark, or eerie. It’s solacing. It’s warm. It’s home.

And Abby doesn’t need words in order to respond.

It’s her turn to take your face into her hands as she pulls you in close. Her lips meet yours like they have so many times before, her familiar scent hitting your nose as you settle your hands onto her hips. The kiss is slow, and sweet, but passionate, and a burning desire surges inside you to never let her go, to always hold her close. To always call her yours.

You pull back from the kiss once you tire from it, gasping, Abby’s body mimicking yours as she does the same. You gaze into her eyes, the pretty blue ones that always make your heart swell, smiling up at her as you press one last kiss to her lips for good measure. “I adore you, Abby Anderson. You know that, right?” you grin.

It’s the first time you ever hear her giggle. “Me more than you, gorgeous.”

You spend hours there alongside Abby, and it’s the best time of your life. You spend time indulging in a few snacks the blonde packed for you, playing cards, and running around and playing in the sand, smiling all the way. You even get to hear Abby read to you, one of the most endearing things in the world, accompanied by the calming sound of the ocean before you. And when it came time for sunset, you sat down beside Abby, gazing on as amber, ochre, and rose faded into night.

It was perfect.

When it was nearly time for the evening to come to an end, you used the second blanket Abby had packed for your shared night to cuddle up beside her, heads rested on the pillows she had carried along as well. The side of your face was pressed into her chest as you gazed into the sky above you, Abby’s hand rubbing your back in slow circles to console you. Small suns coat the evening sky like sweet, powdered sugar, accompanied by a full moon that looks incredible over the horizon. All you could hear was the sound of the ocean, alongside Abby sighing gingerly every once in a while, or her pressing kisses to your forehead.

Not that you needed much more than that.

Suddenly, the sound of Abby chuckling in your ears snaps you out of your head, and you turn your face upwards curiously. Abby’s smile makes you smile, and it’s no surprise you began to wonder what the blonde woman found so funny all of a sudden.

“Remember how I told you Lev and I had to cross those bridges that were really high up?” Abby asked, and you had to raise an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. “Mhm,” you mumble, which is when Abby goes on.

“Well, before that, we had to get there by foot once we got out of the aquarium I told you about, the one I used to go to all of the time. That part of Seattle is overrun in rushing rapids, so a lot of the buildings around there were a lot more demolished than they usually would be anywhere else,” she explained.

“And, well. . .”

“We walked into this building, and there was a painting of these dogs playing cards. And I asked Lev if he knew our dogs could really play cards like that. Then he asked me if anyone found me funny,” Abby laughed. “It cracks me up whenever I remember it.”

She wasn’t the only one laughing. “Sounds like Lev. And like you,” you smile, and the tale makes you recall a humorous memory of your own. “Once, I was working late at the medical center back in Boston. I was doing research on this girl who had been feeling sick, but I wasn’t sure by what. Mind you, it’s late, and silent, if you don’t count me flipping the pages in my books.”

You giggle just remembering it. “It’s the weirdest thing ever, but my dad was really good at making Clicker noises. Like, really good. Sounded so real it made your heart drop. I was reading when I heard it, and I remember wondering how the hell infected had gotten inside. ‘Course I grab what was closest to me, a scalpel, and I swivel around.”

“And it’s dad.”

That one got Abby to burst out chuckling. “Oh, my God. Of all the things you could get, gorgeous. A scalpel?”

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully so. “What can I say? I’m just a medic. I didn’t carry a gun.”

Once Abby’s done laughing, which seems to take forever, she smiles down at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead as if to make up for poking fun at you. You cuddle closer into her, letting your body relax in her embrace as a sigh escapes your lips.

You fall back into silence soon enough, eyes glued to the sky as Abby rubs her hand over your back, holding you like you would fade away if she let you go. You run your fingers through her short hair as you press kisses to her neck, jaw, and face, giving her all the love you know she deserves. Your eyes scan her features like she was molded by some higher power, and you can’t help but want to worship her, endlessly.

Not just for what she looks like. But for who she is.

“My baby. It’s like you were made for me, you know?” you whisper in Abby’s ear as your eyes pierce into her blue ones. But Abby’s head shook quickly.

You can predict what she’s going to say in response. “No, gorgeous.”

“It’s you who was made for me.”

—

reblogs are very much welcomed! <3

—

[withleeknow]

for the requests — i'll send two songs that i've liked for quite a while and you can choose the member that you see who fits the vibe?

sand by dove cameron

and

make you mine by madison beer

conversations with strangers.

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader genre/warnings: exes to ??, non-idol au (i wrote this with seungmin in mind as a celebrity/singer or musician of some sort so it's pretty vague and it's not explicitly mentioned what he actually does, so if you wanna imagine him as an idol it still fits the narrative. i can't tell you what to do lol), Angst™️! (i think. i liked this at first but then i was looking at it so much that i became desensitized to it and idk if it's that sad anymore lol); the ending is a little ambiguous maybe?, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, could've been more edited word count: 2.9k note: this might be one of my favorite things that i've written lately but i am also in my fish freshly dropped on land era so i am fully prepared for this to flop like ass lol bye

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half of your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand

Sand - Dove Cameron

"Why did you call me?"

"Why did you come?"

There isn't a good answer to his question, so you choose to ignore it in favor of keeping your eyes on the road, your fingers holding tightly onto the steering wheel. You don't know what to tell him. You yourself aren't even sure why you came to that bar, why Seungmin is sitting in your passenger seat right now just because he was drunk and he wouldn't let anyone take him home but you.

"I asked you first," you say. It takes an effort to keep your voice even, an effort not to look over at him.

"Don't know," he sounds like he couldn't care less, but that's always been Seungmin for you. "Old habits die hard, I guess. You were the only one I used to call."

You round a corner without even having to look at the GPS. The route to his place is still ingrained in your brain even after all this time. On some nights when you feel too stuffy indoors, you would go on a walk by yourself. Directionless for an hour or two, you just want to feel the wind wrap around your body and solid ground beneath your feet.

On these same nights, you would find yourself at Seungmin's door.

It's always unintentional, the way your feet would carry you to his home without your permission.

"Used to," you reiterate. "Past tense. You don't get to call me anymore. I'm not your chauffeur."

You feel his eyes on the side of your face. Then his voice, ever so calm and collected, "You came anyway, didn't you?"

His words irritate you for some reason, even though he means nothing bad. No malice in his voice; he's just simply stating a fact. You did come when he called, and perhaps the person that you're really annoyed with is only yourself, because why did you come?

He should be a stranger to you by now, and yet, you're here.

Maybe you know the answer. Maybe it's not a hard question at all.

You let the both of you wallow in silence for the rest of the drive. When you pull up to Seungmin's building about ten minutes later, you finally turn to cast your gaze upon him with your eyebrow slightly raised, a polite Get out if there ever was one.

Instead of taking the hint like a normal person and going on his merry way, he just stares at you with his big eyes and his hair still styled to perfection even after a night of celebrating and drinking. Seungmin loves to be difficult, this you can't ever forget.

"Well?" you press. "You're home."

He blinks, then swallows thickly. He looks around your car for a few seconds, unsure of himself. If he wasn't intoxicated, you would think he's trying to stall.

"I... I can't go up by myself," he says.

"Are you serious?"

He just nods, something expectant in his gaze.

"You're a grown man."

"Help me up." He doesn't sound all too drunk, but maybe he's just got a way of masking it because Seungmin would never outright ask for help. He's stubborn, and he thinks it makes him look weak. Incapable.

In the end, you give in to his request. You let him lean on you in the elevator on the way up to his floor, the scent of his cologne still overpowering the bourbon he had all night and it makes you just a little nostalgic.

At his door, you hold onto his waist and look away when he punches in the passcode. The door unlocks and this should be it for the two of you, your unexpected reunion should be ending the moment Seungmin crosses over to the other side of the threshold, but he just turns around and looks at you, his body against the frame of the door this time.

"There, you're home safely," you say. "I've done my part. Goodnight."

"Come in."

"Why?"

"I'm tired. Come in." And with that, Seungmin retreats into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow without any further explanation at all. For a moment, you stand there by yourself, not really sure of what to do. You hear him shuffling inside, before the sound of his body plopping onto the couch carries over to your ears.

What business do you have here? What business did you have with Seungmin in the first place today?

And yet, you find yourself trailing inside, closing the door behind you until the lock clicks into place. Maybe you're curious to see what the place looks like since the last time that you were here. The two of you never lived together - you weren't foolish enough to agree even though he did ask - but you were over often enough to consider this your second home.

Not much has changed. It's still the same minimalist four walls that you were used to. Same light gray paint, same black couch. Same framed signature of his favorite baseball player and same tiny crack in the decorative bowl on the coffee table. There's a photo on the credenza lying face down seemingly on purpose, but you don't say anything about it.

"What am I doing here?" you ask.

"Why did you come?" he shoots you the question for the second time tonight.

You blink at him. He only stares back.

"Why did you call me?" you repeat. "Why did you really call me?"

Questions thrown out but no answers received, like you're both running in circles, with neither of you knowing why you're even running in the first place.

Seungmin purses his lips before he stands up, the suddenness of the movement leaves him unsteady on his feet, makes him hold onto the couch's armrest for support. "Do you want some water?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Okay."

"Give me a second. Have a seat."

You watch as he pads into the kitchen a little wobbly, then returns a few minutes later with two glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to you, some distance dividing the two of you. He takes a sip, you do the same.

"Called you because I missed you," he says, casually admitting it like he was merely discussing the weather. The place hasn't changed, but maybe he has.

The last time you spoke to Seungmin was about six months ago, when he dropped off your things two weeks after you broke up. You haven't had any contact since, and that's exactly the way it should be for you and him now. You went your separate ways and that was it. A mutual agreement that hurts, but it was mutual nonetheless. For the past half a year, all he's been to you is a stranger. You know why it had to happen. You agreed to it.

But, just because you haven't talked, doesn't mean that you haven't thought of him. You wish he only crossed your mind in passing, wish your brain only conjured up the image of him whenever you saw something that he would like, or whenever you caught a glimpse of him on the TV or radio. In reality, it's been much more pathetic. You think of him almost every day, despite your best efforts to cleanse yourself of everything that's remotely related to the name Kim Seungmin. His absence carries itself with you all the time, a hollowness that seeps into every crevice of your life.

You know he means it. Seungmin doesn't lie, least of all to you. His honesty twists inside of you like a knife. Salt, meet wound.

You have no words to offer him, no response you can think of that would make sense to say out loud so you don't say anything. The only sound that falls from your lips is his name, like a warning, a plea, a consolation all at once.

But he doesn't seem to mind. Not his sudden vulnerability, not your reluctance to entertain that split second of honesty.

"I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine," he says. "Why did you come?"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes a moment like he's mulling it over in his head. "Thought maybe you missed me too," he says eventually, ending the sentence with a bitter chuckle. "Just a little bit."

You tongue your cheek, stall with another sip of water before you place the glass on the table. On a coaster of course, Seungmin hates cup rings on his fancy table.

You lean back to rest on the couch, staring up at his boring ceiling. There are memories of you on this very couch, ones of you lying with your head on his lap as he plays with your hair, the two of you winding down after a long day. Or ones that are far too inappropriate to bring up ever again, of nights where you were both too desperate and impatient to take it to the bedroom. Those gentle reminders are still here somewhere, tucked between the cushions perhaps.

"Sure." You hum, nodding along. "Let's go with that."

Another chuckle, humorless. Though, you think he's pleased enough with that non-answer but you're not sure. He mirrors your position, falling into the couch with a sigh. From your peripheral vision, you think he's scooched closer to you, just by a few centimeters, in the process of settling into the sofa.

"My turn," you say. "Why do you want me here?"

"What is this, 21 questions?"

You shrug simply. "You asked me to come in. I'm just curious."

When Seungmin stays silent for a beat too long, you turn your head to watch him, thinking maybe he's knocked out because of the alcohol in his system. But you find him wide awake, his eyes staring ahead, looking like he's already sober.

His face is unreadable when he says, "Wanted to see something."

"See what?"

"See if something is still there."

It's your turn to remain quiet as you process his words, and it's Seungmin who has to turn to gauge your reaction.

"And? Is anything still there?" you ask.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one that stayed."

"Does it matter? If I say there is?"

"Of course it does."

"What would you do about it?"

He goes still once more. You know he doesn't have an answer to your question. What would he do? What could he even do? Patch things up only for them to fall apart again in a couple months? Once upon a time, you were naive enough to think that you could find a way to make it work. You had enough blind faith to think that it would all work out in the end; that if you wanted it enough, maybe the universe would let you have this one thing.

You return your gaze to the ceiling. He's shown you his cards, maybe it's only fair that you show him some of yours too.

An uncertain inhale, then the realization that this is the only time you would be able to have an honest conversation with him about this.

"Wanna hear something funny?" you ask.

"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway."

It's anything but funny, and Seungmin is certain that you're not building up to a punchline. Sure, it's a little tragic that nothing matters, but there's some freedom, some comfort in that too. You can tell him everything that's plagued your mind for the past couple hundred days or so without having to worry about the repercussions. Even though not all is said, everything is already done.

"You know, you were mine before you were anyone else's," you say. You feel his eyes on the side of your face. The silence persists, and you aren't sure if you can take it as a sign to continue, but you do so anyway because at least he's not pumping the brakes on it, right? "I used to be jealous of your life. Toward the end, I mean."

"Jealous of what?"

"I don't know. Just your life, your dream. All of it."

Seungmin blinks. "You were jealous that I got to live my dream?"

"I said I was jealous of your life, not you," you correct him. "Because you always seemed to want everything else more than you wanted me."

"You make it sound like I was the bad guy." He turns a little defensive all of a sudden, an edge in his voice when he says, "That's not true."

You still remember him well enough to know that it is.

And it's not such a terrible thing; it's simply the truth. You can't fault him for having a dream and for having enough courage to see it through, even if it means unintentionally leaving you behind in the process. You could foresee the end even from the beginning. If you wanted to blame someone, you would have to blame yourself too.

You swerve around his metaphorical walls, his make-believe suit of armor. If you'd been nervous around Seungmin tonight, then that anxiety is now chipping away brick by brick the more you internalize the fact that nothing matters anymore.

"Remember your last show before we broke up? You were so happy, I was so proud of you. You belong on stage and I never wanted to take that away from you. But then I noticed the crowd, the thousands of people out there cheering your name and I realized that I would never compare to them. Their praise meant more to you than mine, and it was only a matter of time before you outgrew me to look for bigger and better spotlights.

"I'm not saying you were wrong for any of it. I don't blame you. You were always going to outgrow me. It's sad, but it's okay. I always knew that you'd have to leave me behind at some point. It's on me too; I just fell too hard too fast for someone who could never stay. It's your dream, you can't help it. But that night... that was the nail in the coffin for me, knowing that one day, to you, I would be just one of the faces in a crowd that you can't even tell apart."

It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. In fact, it's even a little cathartic to pour out the words that have been sitting heavy on your chest. Although it's not until a single tear spills over that you realize your eyes have welled up somewhere along the way. You quickly wipe it away with your thumb, then you feel his hand reach for yours after a few beats.

Seungmin calls your name, and you can hear the regret in his voice. When you look at him, his eyes have softened, no longer on the defense now that you've beat him to the offense. "I'm not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning, you know," he says.

"Does it matter? What are you going to do about it in the morning?" you ask. "We're already broken up. It's not like we can go anywhere from here. But at least now you know what it was like for me."

It seems to be a common theme tonight - stretches of silence in between admissions of truth so that one of you can gauge the other's reaction, trying to assess what path would be worth it to take at this crossroad you find yourselves unable to move on from.

Then he's tugging on your hand, pulling you to him until you're in each other's orbit again. Close enough for him to wrap his arm around you. Close enough that you're weak, not that you were ever that strong to begin with. It doesn't really come as a surprise that you let him.

"I..." Seungmin starts, full of uncertainty as he tries to string together a sentence. "We could go back."

This isn't a surprise either, that you're considering his words.

"What happens when it ends again?"

You can practically taste the residual bourbon on his breath when he leans into you, his lips brushing your cheek just slightly. "Then it ends again," he says, a little pained, all too selfish. "But it'll be worth it. It's worth it to me."

"What if it's not what I want? What if it's not worth it to me?"

He pulls back, putting some distance between your faces so he could see you better, the deep brown of his eyes searching for something that you're both aware of.

"You came tonight," he murmurs, as if that in and of itself is a sufficient enough explanation. "You stayed."

Not all is said, but everything is already done.

You had chance after chance after chance to leave, to shut this down - whatever this is - but you didn't, not even once. You're still a willing participant even though you've lived through this ending before. You know he loved you, know he loves you even if the way he goes about it is selfish.

Because you do know the answer to his questions. It's clear as day; anyone can see it from a mile away.

When your world eventually comes crashing down again some time from now, you won't blame Seungmin. You won't blame yourself either, despite having option to walk away from all of this right now.

Because maybe some pains are worth enduring twice, aren't they?

Why did you come? Why did you stay?

Is anything still there?

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.06.2024]

[tmwcs]

Hsjaksis this idea has been in my brain for so long but imagine demon heeseung who watches little church girl y/n ever since she turned of age, he's smitten,he wants her but also knows that her purity is too strong and he can only touch her body if she gives him permission,so he has to use deception. Pretend to be someone else to earn ur trust, making u suck on his fingers by telling u that it will earn u god's grace. Overall heavy on corruption if u catch my drift. He will slowly prepare you for himself cuz u r oh so sweet and innocent completely unaware of the pleasures of the human body

”A Test of Will.”

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, corruption, deception, demonic HS x Y/N. Stealing y/n's virginity, possessiveness, secret admiring, cursing, I think that's it.

I apologize it took me so long to post. I got super jet-lagged after our flight back home the other day. But without further ado, here is (sorry it's not proofread) the one shot, "A Test of Will." REQUESTED.

Begin Read:

For as long as you can remember, you loved and praised God, taught to submit into his will whenever he desired or called upon you. As a young girl, you wanted nothing more than to become a bride of Jesus and yearned to remain everlasting and pure. It was a life you loved and respected, being the daughter of a pastor and the wife of a devoted homemaker. From the moment you understood speech, and emotional love, it had always been ingrained in your head to please him and only him.

So, you did.

The first moment you realized the importance of your obedience to the Holy spirit was after you turned seven and your family coordinated your Baptism at the local church, one your family had been attending for years. Donning all white, looking as angelic as the Renaissance paintings, you gained holiness and rebirth as God's child, watching as everyone gathered around and sang praises and cheers. It was a joyous event that displayed your conformance to the standards of God's holy will. Among the chanting choir, one particular guest lurked from above, watching with intrigue. Despite being uninvited, he remained to observe the Holy ritual while being unheard and unseen.

He hovered high above, over the large grand fountain, and watched as the priest gently dipped your frail body in the water, allowing you to rise and take your first breath. Seeing how you smiled delicately, accepting your dedication to fulfilling God's will, creates a smirk in defiance to form gracefully on his dark lips. Now, this ritualistic occurrence was not unique to him, but he could care less, for the event wasn't the reason for his stay. It was you that he was interested in. Your innocence appealed to him, and the strength of your devotion, especially at such a young age, what an enchanting young girl you were. Perhaps he'll possess you and devour your soul while you sleep, letting you die while he tucks your spirit away for safe keeping.

Spreading his wings wide, they rested against the cathedral ceiling; the darkness of the spikes and bat-like features looked as if it smeared the face of the great mother Mary and baby Jesus, tainting their warm faces with the hue of black and blood red. His lithe frame is sharply adorned in an all-black suit with fingerless gloves, while his hair is stained royal purple. Gravity did not affect his demonic nature; no one would have been able to notice him even if he decided to become visible to the mortal eye. He took on a perfect stance of a straight stand, parallel to the roof of the ceiling, with arms carelessly crossed and a raised hand stroking his lips by the lead index. Chuckling, he becomes amused and admires your happiness in becoming one of them, another tribal animal that falls into the pretenses of spiritual love and devotion, neglecting the nature of your mortal existence and desire. That won't do for him, considering he can only devour your spirit when it is strong in faith.

……………..

Years have passed since then, and the hellish guest permanently remained in your life, unbeknownst to you. It was enjoyable for him to watch you grow, molding into a prideful young woman. He admired your dedication but grew infatuated by your stubbornness. You had no problems remaining vigilant in keeping your chastity, but it wasn't easy. As you came of age, you longed for a sense of touch and physical companionship. Most times, you continued to plow through life with your dedication strong and steady, yet some moments you questioned if you were doing enough, feeling complacent with your current path and therefore drifting in thought, wondering if there is more to life than just serving the Lord.

It had hit you hard upon graduating high school, you realized that your greatest wish was to do more, thus furthering your motivation to stay on the current course. Especially after observing your peers, watching them take part in dating, following the natural courses of love, marriage, and family life. You did everything you could to take your mind off it, from actively volunteering in holy community services to leading Bible study every day, but none of it gave you the strength you needed to stay engaged with your dedication to God. Unfortunately for you, he had sensed it and took great delight watching as you tried fighting off your instinctive desires as a mortal woman.

There were times when his invisibility was clicked on or off, depending on his mood, yet it didn't matter for each time that he was present, he remained undetected. Whether it was appearing as the air itself, or disguising as one of your friends, teachers, or even your parents, he gained interaction to hear how lovely your voice became with age. He had found you peculiar upon discovering you as a young girl, but seeing how you grew into the dedicated young woman you are today, he was obsessed. Who could have ever thought that demons could gain affection and desire for humans? It wasn't natural nor was it normal, but there is a first for everything, including him. The last straw was when he lay, relaxing himself on your bedspread, watching as you remained oblivious to his unobtrusive presence. Figuring you were going to conduct your normal routine in changing inside your closet space, he relaxes on your bedding, already knowing that your inclusive habit was due to your shyness in changing out in the open, despite being nestled in the privacy of your room…or so you thought.

It's true, that you have made a habit of changing in discrete areas such as your closet or your bathroom, but time has an effect on everyone, even God's most dutiful child. Sure, you were still fruitful and pure, but as you matured, you found it nearly silly

you weren't as shy as you were before. You were a fully, blossomed young woman who helped and loved her family and had prospects to attend the university of your choice in the oncoming months, all with the attending hopes of joining a nunnery and becoming a bride of his holiness.

His brow raises when he notices you undressing. Shifting his gaze, he looked confused for a moment as you broke out of your traditional habit, and stripped off your clothing delicately until you reached full nudeness. It takes a lot for him to become shaken, it's never happened before, but you accomplished a feat that many, including the demons of Hell, found impossible to achieve. There he lay, iris expanding and glowing red as he noted the suppleness of your soft skin, how you tenderly removed your skirt, blouse, and the undergarments that cradled your luscious breasts and the simple white lace that protected the heart of your core. It was at that moment for the first time since he discovered you, he realized that he was not just intrigued, but obsessed with having you. His infatuation develops into something deeper and stronger upon seeing your bare form, he had to keep you, shower you with his darkness, and hide your lightened heart away for only him to admire.

………………

"Y/N, come here sweetheart, and meet the new priest who has graciously volunteered his services to our church."

You had just returned from your college orientation and noted an unfamiliar umbrella staged by the front door upon entry. Your steps were timid, but you approached the living room steadily, catching sight of your mother and father both speaking to a tall figure, with his back facing you. Your mother catches your entry and bids you to introduce yourself, and you had every means of doing so gracefully, until he turned around.

"Y/N, this is Father Ethan, he has come from far away and is blessing our church with his devotion and preaching of God." Your father added on, continuing your mother's praise of the rather young-looking man that stood before you. He had dark, shiny black hair, was lean, and had a handsome face; for a priest, he was unlike any holy servant you had ever seen before. He was Asian, though you couldn't pinpoint which national region his ethnic background came from, and didn't probe to ask as it would have been too rude. You smiled sweetly and finally gulped faith before emitting your first words in greeting him.

"It's…nice to meet you, Father Ethan. My name is Y/N…."

"Well hello, it's very nice to finally meet you, Y/n. Your parents were spending the last hour boasting about you."

Looking over to your parents, Father Ethan displays a sly smirk as he crosses his arms and swings his body before returning his gaze to your direction. Your parents nod with approval and gleam proudly. You couldn't be entirely sure but there was something strange about your meeting with Father Ethan; there was an unusual level of attraction that you felt towards, and from him.

The next day, you carried out your diligent duties in leading Bible study for the younger age group. Walking in, you immediately became aware of the stark emptiness inside; no one was around, yet the candles were lit. Making your way down the aisle, you looked around and peeked between the benches, only to find that the main hall was just as empty. You stood before the holy cross, admiring the small statues and chalices that decorate the platform where the priest conducted his prayer and Biblical lecture, when suddenly a deep voice emerges from behind you. "You're here for Bible study?"

Sharply turning, you set your eyes on Father Ethan. He stood straight and tall, wearing a casual black suit with a white undershirt, partially unbuttoned. "Oh, I'm sorry Father, I didn't know you were here."

"Pay no mind, and no need to apologize." he slyly smiles in response.

Surrendering a faint nod, you smiled sweetly before clearing your throat. "Are the children here?"

"Oh you mean the ones you're leading for the lecture? I'm afraid not, everyone had prior engagements set in stone and couldn't make it."

Stroking his chin, he flares his infamous smirk once more, locking his gaze and finding you heavenly and delectable.

"You know…y/n….your diligence and faith towards God is astonishing."

"It is?"

"Mmhmm…I wonder if there is anything you wouldn't do, all in the name of your love for him."

Your eyes slightly widen as you lean in, enhancing the value of your statement. "There isn't…I would do anything to show my loyalty and to become closer, I intend to be a bride of God."

"You want to be a nun?"

Nodding, you shifted your gaze to the side upon feeling his gaze examining you with intrigue.

"Interesting." Walking towards you, his hand reaches down and gently cups your cheek. Just as he expected, your skin was soft and supple, the strands of your hair grazing against his knuckle felt like silk threads, and you warmed his coldness in an instant. "Hm…pretty."

You were taken aback by his statement, as he displays a devious smile. "No-no…it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you…in fact, I'm here to help you to get closer…"

"Closer to God?" your eyes began to water, yet you couldn't help it, you became curious by his rather bold statement. Chuckling, he bites down on his lower lip and steps back. "You wanna see proof?… You wanna see a miracle…y/n?"

Nodding once more, you watch as he takes one of the empty chalices in his hand and flicks it. The chime of the brass echoes through the main hall and into the massive foyer. Presenting it to you, you gently cradle the cup in both hands and become stunned upon seeing that the chalice was filled with blood-red wine. "I-is….is this?…. How?" You snapped your gaze over to him, curious for an explanation as you were quite sure the chalice was empty a moment ago.

"Are…you an….are you an angel?… Father Ethan?"

"Something like that." tilting his head, he continues to flash his devilish smile before whispering once again, "Something….like that."

Looking down at the chalice, you smile softly. "Can I ask why you're here?"

Playfully rolling his eyes to the side, he shrugs his shoulders before emitting an answer. "Just here to help preach his desire."

"….What is his desire?"

"You really want to know?"

"…..Yes…."

Snapping his hand forward, he snags your wrist and rapidly pulls you close, pressing you chest to chest. "First…." he softly lets out into your ear before he slowly licks the nook of your neck.

"Father! W-what…!"

"Shh….I said…everything is going to be alright…don't you trust me?….If you don't, I guess I can leave and you'll be forever marked in his eye as someone who went against his will…."

Gasping, you desperately voiced out your objection. "No! That's not true! I would do anything for him, even if it meant giving up my happiness. That's how much I love him."

"Huh…that right?" Rolling his tongue, he tilts his head and peers his gaze into yours. "You know what would make him happy?"

"….No…would you tell me?"

"Its easier if I showed you…come here."

Gripping your shoulders, he straightens your posture and squares you up with his frame. He leans in and places a soft and sensual kiss on your neck, stirring a vibrating sense to riddle deep inside your gut. Giving you the thrill of passion, he presses his parted lips against yours and harshly breathes out, coating your skin with the warmth of his exhale. Slowly, his tongue trails through his mouth, feeding its way through your lips and smears his saliva over your tongue and cheek. Your brows furrow in fear and worry, but slowly transitions into delight once you reminded yourself of how Father Ethan was bringing you closer to God, or so he says. No one could blame you, after all, seeing his talent with what he did to the chalice was proof enough that he was not an ordinary person. But what was he exactly?

Your thoughts were interrupted when his grip changes, holding your firmly by your waist while he buries his tongue deeper. As soon as you let out a gasping moan, he takes things a step further by smoothing his palms over every curve of your body. Hesitant, you try to push yourself away, yet his hold on you remained strong and he continues to shower you with the passion of his sinful touch. "Stay close to me, I promise I'll show you heaven."

"O-okay…." you faintly whispered, unable to make any sense of what was going on. You knew that what he was doing was a sin, something your parents had warned you to avoid. However, when he began feeding his hand under the hem of your dress, and smother your neck and chin with his dangerous kisses, you faltered at the sensation, keeping in mind that you were displaying your loyalty to God and his will.

"F-Father Ethan…I…I can't breathe…" you whimper as he forces your head to tilt back, allowing him a wider range to lick and nibble the skin on your throat. "It's okay, I'll fix that in a second." He mumbles.

Turning you around, he was abrupt and rough with his movements, he could tell that you didn't seem to mind, at least it didn't sound like it. Since he started to rub your inner thighs, your pitch sounded more pleasurable and less fearful. Either you were too trusting towards him, or you were melting at the feeling of being ravished by his hands and mouth.

Piercing your entry, you gasped in shock upon realizing that his hand had made its way under your panties, taking advantage of your partially exposed cavity. "Wait! Wh-what are you doing!?" you gasped out, placing your hands on his shoulders as he inserts his fingers, lifting you upwards in the process. "Dont worry…its all in his will, remember?" Father Ethan smirks as he burrows his face into your neck, groaning against your skin. "You wanna be closer to heaven, riiiiight?" Gripping a handfull of your hair, he forcefully tilts your head to the side and bites, "Ah! That hurts!" Resetting your position, he looks down at you under heavy lids, his smirk completley gone but the lust in his eye remains. "Tell you what, if you're good, I'll show you my wings."

You looked up, completely bewildered. "You have…wings?" He nods his head as he pets your hair, it was at that moment you were convinced he really was an angel. Sensing your instant will and obedience, he ignores in confirming the validity of your submission and instead, turns you around while ripping your dress in half. Shredding off your undergarments, you cover yourself as you stood fully nude with his frame pressing against you from behind. "Did you know that you've been lied to all your life?" kissing your back, he leaves a lengthy trail down your spine as he plasters his lips onto your skin.

"W-what do you mean?" You ask in all earnesty, trying to refrain from releasing your desperate moans of pleasure as you relish in the sensation of each kiss. With his lips pressed onto your lower back, he grips the back of your thighs before mumbling against you, giving a slight tickle. "God would never demand that his creations to be so ignorant as to dismiss their instinctive will to learn the life lessons of pleasure, pain, and happiness. It's what humans are meant to do in their short lifespan." Biting down, you felt the sting of his demeanor on the back of your shoulder. "I'm sure he appreciates the spiritual faith in his name, but what good is flesh and blood if not without the practice of tasting, feasting, and desiring the need to touch and be touched."

Counterattacking his resolve, you whimper your words, trying your best to maintain composure. "Flesh and blood is all but a facade, its our will that remains everlasting and true."

Chuckling, you feel his teeth against the back of your neck as he responds in amusement. "Hmph…that right? Well then princess, let's see if we can break that will of yours."

He wastes no time and begins to insert his lengthy shaft into your womanhood. Even though you hadn't given him consent, you weren't resisting to the act, so long as he kept his promise in bringing you closer to God, among other things. True, you wanted to be closer, you wanted to see Father Ethan's wings, and you wanted to enter heaven, but there was also the longing built up within you that desired for him to do more. The feeling of his thickness filling you became the most painful and pleasurable sensation you've ever felt; you nearly questioned how you could have gone so long without experiencing it, when a quick thrust on his part pinched you with sharp pain.

"Ugh….it-it hurts! F-Father Ethan…."

"Call me Heeseung baby." Be breathes out in a low groan.

"He-Heeseung?"

Noting your perfect pronunciation, he showers you with praise as he continues to lick your neck. "Very good. You have a gift of tongues, don't you?"

Fully leaned forward, he coats your back with his chest, sealing his muscle as he stuffs his entire girth in between your wet folds. "Ready to see Heaven?"

You hesitated for a second, but nodded as your body shook vigorously from the immense pressure. "Alrighty then." he smirks, just as he starts his thrusts back up. "Wow…you're fucking perfect, aren't you?"

He starts slow, but picks up the pace as he continues to pump his lengthy cock in and out of your entry. The bulging tip harshly taps against a sweet spot that lays dormant inside of you, something you never knew existed until now. In and out, he steadily increases the pace, the sound of your skin wrapping his, squelching as he thrusts ferociously with the hidden intentions of staining your internal spirit with the darkness of Hell. He goes faster, your body jolts forward as he slams his cock deep inside each time, with his thighs slamming against your own and his groin popping against your derriere. Lost in the whirlpool of erotic pleasure, your moans were interrupted as you felt his fingers crawling up, around your neck, and onto you chin. Tapping his finger against your lips, he lets out an indiscriminate tone and smirks out another one of his chuckles. "Open." Bidding to his demand, you part your lips and watch as he slips his index in and rubs the inside of your cheek. "Good girl…"

Just as you started to question his claims, his voice punctures your thoughts when he asks you, "Can you see them?"

Never losing his momentum, he continues to pump his cock, disrupting the tightness and elasticity of your feminine virtue, jerking your body back and forth from his performance. Confused by his formulation, you were about to bid him to elaborate when suddenly you saw the glowing of spheres surrounding your bodies. Thrusting, your body motions forward and back as he pulls you by the hips, making it nearly impossible for you to admire the majestic beauty of what appeared to be stars, encircling you.

"W-what….ugh!"

"I told you, didn't I?…I'd show you heaven…"

Seeing the evidence of what you could only surmise as divine intervention, you submit fully by extending your arms overhead and plastering your forearms against the wall, spreading your legs even more and allowing him unbarricaded access. Arching your back, you perk your rear cheeks upward, wanting to see and feel more.

"Yeah? Bet you wanna see more, don't you?" he scoffs in between his growls. Nodding, you bend and submit every inch of your will and begged him to do more. "Huh….if only everyone you know could see you right now….what would dear mommy and daddy think if they were to see their precious daughter getting fucked…hmm?" Following his words, he speeds up his thrusts as he firmly grips the center of your throat. "Keep yourself steady baby….you feel so fucking tight like this."

Following his instructions, you keep yourself arched as you feel his thrusts going in deeper and harder. His fingers rubbing the side of your neck as he holds you down, pinning you against the wall while he takes advantage in fully penetrating you. The more he did, the more you saw. Soon the entire hall was filled with the glowing spheres; you watched as they fluttered around and looked too beautiful to be real. They had to be angels; small and delicate cherubs that were enhancing the legitimacy of his claims.

In between your pleading moans, you faintly smile as you felt wholesome in seeing what others could not, all due to giving yourself up to this man. Letting him continue, he delightfully takes you in and punctures your entry for hours, painting your skin blue, purple, and red by his licks and nibbles. He kept going and going, your body became numb and the pleasure wore off, the only thing you could feel at this point was prickling pain and sting, yet each time he sensed your weakened state, he taunted you with his words, teasing as he scoffs them out. "Are you giving up on me? Should I stop?"

You shook your head every single time, maintaining your stance so that you could continue to be closer to your faith, to which he would respond with a chuckle, and a dark decree. "Gonna fucking break you to pieces, girl."

You barely had enough time to process his word's let alone respond, all due to his last and final effort in increasing his speed. "Oh fuck you feel so good…going to make me cum."

With tears staining your cheeks, you shook your head as you helplessely leaned your head against the wall's surface, already having done too much to suddenly stop now, not that he would ever let you. Punching your internal gut, he goes faster, deeper, and harder. Your breasts bounce fiercly as your hair flies forward, your skin tainted red as he drags his nails and digs them in. Reaching your breaking point, a sharp, stabbing sensation pierces your clit as overstimulation takes effect from the constant throbbing of his cock. "Please! No more! I-I cant!"

Your scream was all he needed to hear before he releases, fully submerging his cock deep as he groans into your ear. "My little slut...you feel me turning us into parents?" Filling you, your walls become stained by the creaminess of his seed, the warmth of it all eases you inside and out. When he was finally done, he slowly exits, releasing his grip and letting you drop to the floor. You whimper as you lay weakened, your womanhood destroyed and beaten, and all he did was stand feircly tall as he smiled deviously. Grabbing hold of his cock, he slowly strokes it as he watches you faintly struggle up. "How pretty…I'm going to have fun keeping you all to myself."

Looking up, you tearfully watch as his blackened hair turns purple, his eyes glowed dangerously red, and his lips darken. The white spheres around suddenly turned black, formulating into wild shapes of various demons with jagged teeth and elongated tongues that practically reached the floor. Beyond frightened, you gasped out a series of whimpers as you used your arms to back away, only to meet with the wall behind.

"What?…Scared?" he chuckles, taking his steps closer to you. "Didn't I promise to show you my wings? My pretty...pretty....pretty wife..."

Furrowing your brows, you looked at him mercifully when he abruptly stretches his neck. From left to right, a series of cracks could be heard as he hovers his chin over each shoulder, his lids remained partially shut, revealing the rolling of his eyes towards the back of his head; with a subtle groan, he releases his bat-like wings as they extend high and wide. Covering your mouth, you gasp in horror as you begin to sob hysterically. What have you done? Who was he and just what did you allow him to do to you? The entire afternoon spent with him taking away your purity.

"Y-you're….you're not an angel…." you muttered out, watching as he reopens his eyes and tilts his head. Gazing at you with a smirk that pitied your oblivious state of mind, his eyes drift and takes in the miraculous sight of you from head to toe. He loved how broken and helpless you looked, trapped against the wall as you attempt to cover your breasts and bring your closed legs in. With a pleading tone, you asked with sweet innocence in your voice as your eyes pushed out fresh tears. "A-are you….the Devil?"

Smirking, he takes in a final step and kneels down before you, leaning in for a kiss. Holding your head steady by a fistful of hair, he gently pulls your head back, and whispers before sealing your fate eternally, having special plans in store for when he brings you back home with him, leaving you unfound and forever a mystery in the world you were born into.

With a deep tone, his lips brush against your own as he responds…

"Something like that…"

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

[luvonmes-blog]

slow

just, slow down.

warnings/labels - MDNI!!, decided to switch the narrative of a guy actually taking women into consideration (omg!! men who care😱) and decided gojo needs a lil love aka, reader takes gojo into consideration, fem! reader, fluffy smut, pnv, pwp, lil bit of nipple play (i wholeheartedly believe gojo has sensitive nipples, fight the wall), gojos in love, reader shows him how to love (fuck) her.

authors note - you know when people post and say “this was supposed to be a drabble but i got carried away” i always questioned if they were serious or not but now?? i understand. i’m so in love with the idea of being in love

————————————————————————

when gojo first met you, he didn’t think anything would come of it. he just assumed you’d be another colleague of his but you quickly proved him wrong.

it started with quick, shy glances. those quickly because fleeting touches which would burn his skin and leave a mark ingrained in his brain of where you placed your hand. looks became less shy, touches became more certain and then you asked him out. you asked him out and that day he knew he was hooked. the moment he kissed you, he knew he was going nowhere, his brain already planning your future together. your lips met and he wanted to devour you but before he could go any further you pulled back and murmured something about taking it slow.

“d- did you not like it?” he asked nervously, face burning red.

“no, satoru.” you laughed and his face paled. “i liked it i promise but could we slow it down?” it came out as a question and he was confused on what you meant.

“slow it down?” he repeated, trying to understand what you meant.

“yeah, like…” you didn’t finish your sentence instead leaning in and pressing your lips against his. he let you take the lead, wanting to see what you meant. and he finally understood. your lips moved slowly against his, parting just a bit and breathing him in. you meant slow literally and gojo likes this more. he was used to being rushed, everyone around him expecting him to do any and everything quickly but you didn’t. you let him do things on his own terms and now he was doing them on yours. slow. he was used to women rushing him, just trying to get him into their beds, lips moving hurriedly, all teeth and tongue as they stripped him.

but you, you took your time. when you parted your lips enough to slip your tongue into his mouth, he groaned. your hands trailed down his abdomen and met his, moving them from the harsh grip on your hips to up your back, cradling your body and allowing him to pull you closer. the two of you now flush against each other as gojo hunched over to keep his lips against yours. you licked into his mouth moving your tongue against his, tasting him and taking whatever he’d give to you. you finally let go as you felt light headed from the lack of air and looked up to gojo. for your date tonight he opted for glasses instead of his usual blindfold, he had taken them off when you reached your door and as you stared into his beautiful blue eyes, they were sparkling.

“like that.” you finished your earlier sentence. all he could do was nod dazedly, too entranced by you to actually respond with words. “so i’m gonna go inside now…” you backed away slowly. “you’re welcome to come in if you’d like.” you added.

“god you have no idea what you do to me.” he sighed breathily so caught up in you. “but i can’t. i have um, paperwork.” his voice was raspy and breathy as he panted.

“oh, ok.” you sounded disappointed. and he grabbed you just a bit tighter before you could slip away.

“please don’t think i’m shooting you down.” he was quick to explain himself. “trust me, there is nothing i’d like to do more than come in there with you but if i’m late on my assignments one more time, yaga will be on my ass.” he clarified.

“satoru, you’re fine.” you smiled at him. “i understand, i don’t want you any later on more work than you already are. we can just continue this another time.” you smiled at him. he went in for another kiss and as your lips met you let out a satisfied hum.

“another time.” he agreed. he watched you enter your apartment and then made his way back to his car, when he finally took a seat and looked down, it was exactly as he thought. there he was, sporting a semi in his slacks and he wanted nothing more in the world than to go back to your apartment and ravish you. but he had already promised, another time.

- - -

for a while gojo wasn’t sure another time would happen. curses had been popping up more and more out of nowhere and when he finally got to the bottom of it, it was weeks later and he was scared you wouldn’t be interested in him anymore. but after you reassured him you still wanted to go out with him and understood how important work is he finally got you where he wanted you for weeks.

you were under him in his bed, completely bare for him. he was kissing you slowly, just as you taught him and your hands were all over him. trailing from his back to his chest and you rubbed your thumbs over his nipples jokingly but he had whined into your mouth and you laughed. giggles escaping your mouth and flowing into his. he pulled back to look at you with one of his eyebrows raised. “you like that?” you questioned.

“lil’ bit.” he murmured, his face completely red from you finding out he has sensitive nipples. you laughed some more before gripping his hair and pulling him back down to you.

“you don’t have to be embarrassed, i like that you let me touch you, let me figure out what makes you squirm.” you brought his lips back to yours and bucked your hips, his cock soaked in your wetness gliding against your heat and he moaned. he reached over to his nightstand, searching for a condom, pulling back from your lips to look at what he was doing. he finally found the foil packet and tore it open, ready to slide the rubber onto his cock but you stopped him, taking it from him and gliding it onto him instead. he groaned, your hand moving up and down his shaft as you finally got the condom on.

“fuck. fuck, stop.” you looked up at him. “you gotta stop or i’m gonna cum.” his voice was breathless, panting as you continued to move your hand.

“what if i want you to?” you challenged. he shook his head.

“can’t.” he grit his teeth. “fuck, i can’t. when i cum, i wanna be inside you. and it’d be a waste of a condom.” he laughed, you finally took your hand off him and he sighed. he lined his tip up with your entrance, circling it, smearing your slick over the condom and your pussy lips. your hole was clenching around nothing as he teased you.

“please ‘toru. don’t tease me.” you pouted at him and he thought that if you kept looking at him like that, he’d give you the world. he finally pushed in, stretching you open and settling so deep within you. you moaned in bliss as he buried himself to the hilt, pressing against all the spots that made you squirm. he choked on a groan when he finally settled all the way in, you’re so warm and he had to stop moving or he’d be damned to cum too early. he gave you time to adjust to his girth and length and for himself, staving off his orgasm. “you can move now, ‘toru.”

“fuck, just give me a second, please baby, just a second.” he moaned into your neck. you simply rubbed his back as he pressed his entire body flush against yours. he finally felt he was in the clear as the orgasm settled. he sat up, resting his arms beside your head and he started moving, setting a quick rhythmic pace. your nails dug into his lower stomach and he whined, face falling back into your neck.

“‘toru, ‘toru, slow down.” you sighed out, tits bouncing up and down from how fast he was going. he pulled his head up to look into your eyes. “slow down.” you said lowly, not a command but he followed your direction anyway. “i like it slow. like when you take your time.” you told him. you moved your hands from around his neck to his hips, gripping them as you showed him how to move. “l- like that.” you stuttered as he moved at the pace you enjoyed. your back arched, chest pressing against him as his cock rubbed against your walls. your moans were so soft and gentle in his ears. with the way you’re guiding his hips and how slow he’s moving he can really feel you and while he’s used to the fast pace of sex this is different. good different.

every time he pulls out and pushes back in he can feel you clenching around him, every twitch and clench of your pussy, he can feel and it has his head reeling. he’s never felt this good and he can feel his orgasm building again. his stomach is clenching and his hips are twitching with his every movement. your moans spur on his own and he’s whining into your ear. his hand moves to rub your clit causing your eyes to roll back and choke on a moan. “‘toru,” his name falling from your lips has a visible affect on him as he caves in on himself. “‘toru, i’m gonna cum.” your voice is high pitched, your knees locking around gojos hips as he keeps pressing into your sweet spot and rubbing your clit. your thighs are twitching and you clench so tightly around him he has to grit his teeth.

your back arches as your orgasm washes over you and you go completely silent. it takes you in waves, starting from the pit of your stomach and flowing throughout the rest of your body. your mind is completely blank, all you can see and hear is white and you don’t notice you start crying out for gojo, pulling him down into your grasp. he falls into you as your entire body trembles, shaking as you cum. your chest is heaving as you come to, body shaking as gojo keeps thrusting and rubbing your bundle of nerves. you feel his hips stutter against yours and his back tensing, he’s trying so hard to not cum yet, wanting at least one more orgasm out of you. he’s shocked he made it this far and he’s determined to keep going but you have other plans.

you grip his hair and turn yourself towards his ear nibbling at it and your other hand comes up to his chest and rubs over his nipple. you suck and bite at the skin behind his ear, the sensitive part you found earlier. your thumb and index finger tweak his nipple, pinching and twisting it. “want you to cum ‘toru. want to see how pretty you look when you cum in me.” he whines loudly into your ear. he’s trying so hard to not cum but when you play with his body they way you are and whisper in his ear so prettily, who is he to disobey you? his hips slam into yours one more time and he buries himself in you, trying to get as close as possible.

just as yours, his orgasm starts in his lower stomach but he swears he can feel it in his soul. he’s moaning and whining loudly in your ear as you continue to lick and prod at his body and he shakes. he’s stuttering over words, trying to tell you how good he feels but fails, his body won’t let him. his hips are grinding into yours, grinding into your clit and his cock is twitching as he shoots his load into the condom. he cums so hard for the first time in his life since he was a teenager, he swears he’s going to pass out. you’re still pinching his nipple and biting his ear, dragging his orgasm out as rope, after rope, after rope, leak from his over sensitive tip. he’s crying now, tears falling onto the skin of your neck as he keeps cumming. there’s so much of it he fears it will leak out of the condom but is that so bad? to see his cum leak out of your clenching hole and he wishes that you would have let him go bare. he prays to god you’ll let him fuck you without a condom next time.

his body finally calms down and he falls slack on top of you, cock still twitching deep in you. he’s panting heavily, his chest finally filling with air after holding his breath for so long. you move slightly, just trying to get comfortable and he cries out. “fuck don’t move, ‘s sensitive.” he sobs, voice so high he barely recognizes himself. you freeze in your spot and murmur apologies, kissing wherever you can reach and rubbing both your hands up and down his back. he’s still shaking and you fear it won’t stop.

“satoru.” you say worriedly. “are you ok?” you’re concerned, so concerned. you hadn’t meant to harm him, you really hadn’t but now you’re afraid you had. he laughs but stops almost immediately when it causes his hips the slightest movement.

“m’ ok.” he mumbles. “jus… i’ve never cum that hard.”

“oh…” you’re surprised, to say the least. while you know gojo isn’t the most popular with girls - he’ll never actually admit it out loud but he’s too afraid to actually approach a woman, past relationships and flings were initiated by the female counterpart - you expected him to have better experiences than you. he finally pulls out, mustering enough strength from his body that feels like jelly, pulling off them condom, throwing it to where he hopes the trash can is and collapsing beside you. he falls onto his stomach and places his head on a pillow to look at you.

“are you ok?” he mumbles sleepily, he’s never usually worn out after sex but you’ve gotten to him and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“i’m ok.” you move closer to him, resting your head on your hand that was supported by your arm and trailing your fingers up and down his back, tracing the freckles and blemishes there.

“i really like you, y’know.” you blush at his words.

“i really like you too.”

“i was being serious.” you raise an eyebrow at him, questioning what he meant. “i’ve never cum that hard. i don’t think anyone’s ever taken their time to see what i like. but you did. you always see what i’m ok with before anything. thank you.” his eyes are falling shut.

“you’re welcome.” you whisper leaning over to press a kiss into his hair, ready to turn on your other side and fall alseep but gojo wraps his arm around you and pulls you into him. tangling his body with yours before pulling his comforter over you two and passing out. you look at him and giggle. just as him, you could get used to this.

of course you two don’t always take it slow over the course of your relationship. you both have your moments when you’re begging for more, faster but gojo likes when you’re like this and he enjoys taking his time with you and slowing down.

————————————————————————

i’m in heat. (it’s ovulation week.)

[littlemissclandestine]

Soft!Russell Adler x Reader pt.2

Note: Hello again my fellow Adler enjoyers! Just thought I'd add some more hcs because tbh this list is endless. He knows exactly how to treat a woman and you can't tell me otherwise. Look at him! GRAHHH!! Enjoy my lovelies... - Star ✰

🤎 Soft!Adler who has a habit of doing everything for you and you tell him to stop but he says that you've been a strong, independent woman all of your life and that it's one of the reasons he fell for you but now it's time for his girl to relax and enjoy life a little, and for you to let him take care of you

🤎 Soft!Adler who has the cutest pet names for you such as sweetheart, darlin', doll, honey, beautiful, gorgeous, tiger, princess etc

🤎 Soft!Adler who loves calling you his girl and gettin' all possessive

🤎 Soft!Adler who stands behind you while you're in front of a mirror as you're almost ready to go out, putting the necklace that he gifted you on for you, planting kisses on your neck, his hands tracing the outline of your body as he looks at you both in the mirror, in awe of you

🤎 Soft!Adler who always picks up your favourite things when he's out shopping and you're not with him, your likes and dislikes ingrained in his brain

🤎 Soft!Adler who understands your needs, both physical and emotional and fulfils them in a way that makes you adore him even more everyday

🤎 Soft!Adler who craves intimacy but denied it for far too long because of how his last relationship ended and underneath all of that bravado, America's monster needs to be reminded he is, in fact, human

🤎 Soft!Adler who takes time out and makes a conscious effort to visit your family when you finally introduce him even though it's something that makes him slightly nervous but he does it for you whether they like him or not

🤎 Soft!Adler who buys you flowers, chocolates, bath bombs etc. when you least expect it

🤎 Soft!Adler who makes you breakfast in bed during slow mornings, insisting he cleans up the plates and you have a nice soak, coming up to massage your scalp, scrub you gently and read a book to you as you hang your arms over the edge of the tub, your chin resting on top of your hands, listening intently

🤎 Soft!Adler who catches a whiff of your scent on his shirt or jacket at work, smiling to himself, leaning back in his chair as he remembers how you wore it the day before and he closes his eyes, inhaling it once more before getting back to his job

🤎 Soft!Adler who lets you apply his war paint for him on missions

🤎 Soft!Adler who offers to give you massages, claiming he is an expert and nobody would pass up on it, not even Woods or Mason

🤎 Soft!Adler who secretly loves skin on skin

🤎 Soft!Adler who picks you up bridal style or throws you over his shoulder whenever he feels like it, carrying you around the house

🤎 Soft!Adler who kisses every part of you that you don't love and cherishes it because he knows the pain of low self esteem and in his eyes, every inch of you is beautiful

🤎 Soft!Adler who opens car doors and pulls out chairs for you like a proper gentleman would

🤎 Soft!Adler who playfully smacks your ass when nobody's looking as you're boarding a heli or getting into a SUV if you work together

🤎 Soft!Adler who admires you for who you are and feels inspired by you, making him want to be a better person, not just for him but for you

🤎 Soft!Adler who won't get up and move when you've fallen asleep on him, even if his limbs are feeling numb, out of fear of disturbing you

🤎 Soft!Adler who's only vulnerable with you

🤎 Soft!Adler who tells you how you make him feel alive again after all of the trauma he has endured over the years due to the requirements of his job and the toll it takes on him, no matter how much he denies the extent of it

🤎 Soft!Adler who always wonders if he's doing right by you, how he managed to pull a girl like you in the first place, if you'd stay in his life no matter how long he's away for, how hard it gets and if you'd accept his hand in marriage when, not if, the time comes

🤎 Soft!Adler who lets his tears fall when he finally gets to see you walk down the aisle

dividers by @chachachannah <33

[starryeyedjanai]

All things end and all things change.

Steddie | 23k | Explicit | Read on ao3

written for @patchworkgargoyle for the server gift exchange! 🥰 this is also a fill for @thefreakandthehair's winter challenge

Summary: 

When Eddie took over Robin's room, Steve made a promise to himself that he wouldn't scare Eddie off, that he wouldn't do anything to let him know that he’s still carrying a torch for him this many years later—because Steve feels like Eddie had to have known in college.

He had to have seen it every time Steve looked at him for a beat too long, every time he looked to Eddie first when told a joke, every time he wore his feelings so loudly because he’s never had to reign them in before.

And now he’s doomed to spend more than a week letting Eddie show him glimpses of his life that he’s never seen before, parts of him that he’s kept to himself up until now.

Steve feels like the more he gets to know Eddie, the more ingrained these feelings for him become.

But, you know, other than all of that, what could possibly go wrong?

Or, Steve was planning to spend the holidays alone, but there's no way Eddie's going to let that happen.

-

excerpt under the cut!

“Hey, are you going to be in town for New Year’s Eve?” Eddie asks as Steve walks out of his room, bleary eyed and barely awake. “I told you I’m visiting my uncle Wayne for Christmas, but I can be back in time for New Year’s Eve if you’ll be here.”

“I’ll, uh, I’ll be here,” Steve says, his voice still scratchy from sleep.

“What are your plans for Christmas now that Birdie’s gone home with Chrissy?” Eddie asks, dropping the curious act and getting to what he really wants to know.

It’s too early for this.

Eddie knows he has less of a filter when he’s just woken up, so this is a targeted attack.

He’s been avoiding answering the question when Eddie’s asked what his plans were before, but Christmas is in a few days and it looks like his hemming and hawing around an answer—‘I might go with Robin and Chrissy,’ and ‘I’m not sure yet’—won't suffice anymore.

Robin left yesterday with Chrissy to spend Christmas and New Year’s Eve with her family, her first time taking Chrissy home to her parents, and Steve obviously didn't go with them.

He hums and takes the cup of coffee Eddie pushes into his hands when he takes a seat at their kitchen table. He takes a sip, trying to formulate a way to not say outright that he’s staying here alone.

He shrugs his shoulders and says, "I’m not doing much. I’ll be in town for New Year’s Eve though,” because his brain is still mostly offline and he’s hoping Eddie will leave it alone. (He knows that he won't, but it’s a nice thought.)

Eddie asks, “How are you getting to your parents’ place? Or are they coming to town?”

Eddie knows Steve isn’t super close with his parents just like he knows that he hasn't spent Christmas with them since he graduated college—he and Robin have spent it together since she and her parents aren't big on Christmas as a whole.

They did visit Robin’s parents the first year after college and spent the holidays there, but since then, they’ve just had Christmases at their apartment, getting each other a couple gag gifts and a couple real ones and opening them in front of their comically small Christmas tree. The only reason they aren't spending it together this year is because Robin’s parents want to finally meet Chrissy.

He gulps down more coffee before saying, “I’m not going to Hawkins.”

“Steve, work with me here. Are you or are you not spending Christmas with your parents?” Eddie asks, leaving no room for ambiguity or ‘misinterpretations’ of his question.

So he just sighs and comes clean.

“My parents are in France for Christmas, so I’m just hanging out here for the holidays,” he says, not looking Eddie in the eyes. His parents did invite him to come along, but his passport is expired and he didn't want to stress about getting it renewed in time for the trip.

“Hanging out here alone?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods, still not looking at him, fiddling with the handle of his coffee mug.

“And how’d you get Robin to leave without you?” Eddie asks, suspicion in his voice.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks, playing dumb.

“I mean there’s no fucking way she’d let you spend the holidays alone, first Christmas taking her girlfriend home or not. So what did you tell her you were doing for the holidays?”

Steve sighs, so worn out all of a sudden. He wishes they weren't having this conversation at 8 in the morning—well, he wishes they weren't having it at all, wishes Eddie’s ADHD would have let him forget to ask what his plans were before he left for his uncle’s place.

“I may have said I was spending the holidays with you,” he says sheepishly, finally looking up at Eddie.

Eddie levels him an unimpressed look and then, in an even voice, he says, “Okay. So you’re coming home with me.”

“No,” Steve says. “No. I swear I’ll be fine. It’ll be nice even. Relaxing, having some time to myself.” It sounds weak even to his own ears, so he’s not surprised when Eddie doesn't let up.

“Uh huh, sure. You come sit by me when I’m doing my virtual D&D sessions even though you don’t play because you hate being alone for that many hours, but you want me to believe you’ll be alright being alone for more than a week over the holidays?”

God, it's so not fair bringing up how needy Steve is right now. Steve only pretty recently realized how codependent he and Robin were. They spent almost all of their free time together before she started dating Chrissy and when she moved in with Chrissy and Eddie took her bedroom in their apartment, he had to actively stop himself from monopolizing all of Eddie's time because he doesn't deal well with being alone.

He keeps finding himself almost meandering into Eddie’s room first thing in the morning because spending any amount of time without someone’s voice filling his ears is unbearable to him. Even just having someone in his presence, even if they weren't talking, is better than being alone.

He tries to save face by saying, “I swear I’m fine being alone—“

“Nope, you’re coming home with me,” Eddie says, cutting Steve off, his voice final. “It’ll be a tight squeeze since my uncle’s place is pretty small, but he’ll be glad to have someone to talk sports with, so—you’re coming.”

And this is why Steve has been trying to avoid this conversation so hard for weeks now, skirting around the truth with half-answers and changing the subject because he knew Eddie wasn't going to drop it once he knew.

He really has no choice but to accept or else Eddie won't shut up about it. Or worse, he’ll tell Robin and she’s definitely not going to drop it. And she’ll be disappointed that he lied and she’ll make him drive to her parents’ house and threaten to come get him if he refuses and it’ll spoil her Christmas with Chrissy and her parents. And he doesn't want that, obviously.

This is the first time Robin’s been serious about someone and all he wants is for her to spend her Christmas in love and happy and not worrying about him.

So he says, “Fine. Fine, I’ll go home with you.”

As much as he doesn't want to insert himself into someone else’s holiday plans, he doubly doesn't want to ruin Robin’s Christmas.

“Great. We leave tomorrow afternoon.”

The triumphant smile on Eddie’s face doesn't lessen the growing guilt and unease in stomach.

He really was going to be fine, spending the holidays alone. It would have been quiet and he would have hated every second of the silence, but he could have handled it.

His parents were never super into the Christmas spirit part of Christmas anyway. They never had traditions or decorated the house or anything. Growing up, Christmas was mostly about the gifts—not that he was complaining. He always had the newest toys or video game consoles, so for the most part, he was happy enough to skip the rest of it.

It was only when he was dating Nancy and saw how her family gathered for the holidays and spent time together that he realized that his Christmases were always kind of lonely even when his parents were around.

So after college, when he and Robin moved in together, they started to make their own traditions for the holidays, decorating their apartment and wearing matching pajamas and FaceTiming Robin’s parents on Christmas morning.

This would have been the first Christmas since he started having actual Christmas traditions that he’d be spending it alone. So yeah, it would have sucked, but it would have been worth it if it meant Robin got to have her Hallmark Christmas movie moment.

And now he’s apparently going to the Munson’s for Christmas.

At least now Robin won't actually kill him when she gets back and finds out what he did for the holidays.

read the rest on ao3

[imtryingbuck]

Three simple words

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Summary: Steve tells you he loves you

Word count: 1,640

Warnings: fluff, tiny mention of our Stevie boy having to pleasure himself, swearing

A/N: I wrote this ages ago and wanted it gone from my drafts. It’s shit but have fun reading🙂

Masterlist

Steve knew he was in trouble when he heard your laugh for the first time, it warmed his body and melted the iron bars from around his heart. He followed the sound like a lost puppy, and when he looked through the windows he saw you.

Your eyes shined so brightly he was convinced they could light up a dark room. The huge smile on your face made your cheeks puff out, your hair was all over the place slightly looking like you had been electrocuted.

But to him, you were the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on.

“-ah here’s Steve” Bucky’s voice pulled him out of his trance.

“Huh?” There was that laugh again making him all fuzzy inside.

“Come in then punk, everyone you obviously know who this is and Steve this is everyone”

“Great introductions Buck”

“I know” His best friend smiled before turning back to the class “I want Y/n and Donny to spar next, thanks” Bucky winked at Steve then whispered “I saw you watching her, you creep. You’re going to love her Stevie”

Before Steve can even try and defend himself he sees you getting into the ring with a huge guy, who was clearly ten times bigger than you, he’s heart stopped.

Watching you move around the ring dodging hits from your opponent, getting a few good shots in yourself he had to admit you was doing good considering how big this Donny guy was.

He felt a tinge of jealousy when you looked at Bucky and winked. He didn’t see it coming nor did he suspect it but when you walking straight up to Donny grabbing his fist as he tries to punch you, you flipped him like he weighed nothing. Steve’s eyes nearly bugged out of his eye sockets, his trousers started to strain.

He’s never been more grateful holding a stack of paperwork as he was right now, in his life.

As soon as the class was dismissed he rushed out of the room to go to his, pleasuring himself to the image of you that had ingrained its self into his brain.

“I’ve talked to Fury about bringing L/n on our next mission, he said I have to talk to you. So here goes, Steve I want to bring Agent L/n on our next mission. She’s great, amazing really. Top of her class and she’s a fast learn-“

“Buck slow down jerk, if she has your approval then you’ve got mine. But I wa-was thinking what about Y/n? She was great in the ring against that Donny kid”

Bucky tried his absolute hardest not to laugh or smirk at his friend “Yeah I mean she’s great and all but not like L/n”

“No that’s fine, bring Agent L/n on board but you stick with her the whole time okay” Steve tried not to let his disappointment known, he would of liked to of seen Y/n again - even talk to her would be amazing for him.

“Cheers pal you won’t regret this”

As the door closes behind Bucky, Steve slumped into his chair and sulked.

Their next mission came a week later and it was pretty simple; get in, arrest the bad guys, download information, get out. Easy.

Steve and the team was already on the quinjet and was just waiting for Bucky and L/n to arrive, him and Nat were talking about a film they all watched the night before, when he heard two sets of footsteps coming closer.

“Sorry we’re late, I had to sign off some more paperwork for this one, everyone this is L/n and L/n this is everyone” Bucky says.

“Terminator you really need to work on your introductions, I’m Sam it’s a pleasure to meet you”

“Hi Sam I’m-“

“That’s Nat, Tony, Wanda and Steve” Bucky cuts you off.

“I’m Y/n, it’s so great to meet all of you” That. That has Steve lifting his head, his brain short circuiting for a moment before his eyes went directly to Bucky who stood there with a smirk on his face.

“Aren’t you going to say ‘ooh it’s an absolute honour to be working you The Avengers, it’s a dream come true’?” Tony asked in a mocking tone which caused Steve to snap his eyes away from Bucky to the Billionaire.

“No” Your laugh caused him to smile lightly “That would be a lie well the second part anyway, my dream was to always be a fairy princess but-“ waving your arms out “that appears not to of come true.” Everyone laughed as Tony smirked and clicked his fingers.

“I like her, welcome aboard the crazy express”

“Thank you, Mr Stark”

“Tony, call me Tony sweetheart”

Steve didn’t know which one to kill first Bucky or Tony. Both as bad as each other really.

With the introductions out of the way and the mission briefing just finished, Steve pulled Bucky to the back of the quinjet.

“You didn’t tell me that L/n was actually Y/n!”

“Yeah, L/n is Y/n’s last name Stevie”

“Don’t try and be funny Buck! She sticks with me throughout the mission”

“But you said for her to stick with me…”

“I know what I said but I’ve changed my mind”

“Why?”

“Be-because…I’m Captain America” Smiling and raising his eyebrows at his friend.

“That’s true - oh just before I leave, you know tonight when we get home? Make sure you get FRIDAY to soundproof your room so I don’t have to hear you moaning out Y/n’s name again like the other week”. It was now Bucky’s turn to smile as Steve’s face went bright red.

“H-how?”

“Remember Captain America I’m just like you” Tapping his ears before walking off.

Steve bows his head and mumbles “Shit”.

Days after the mission Steve was walking down the corridor with you occupying his thoughts when he bumps into a person-

“I’m so sorry” The voice he’s committed to memory says.

“It’s okay, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going-I’m really sorry”

“It’s fine honestly. I’m glad I bumped into you actually, I’ve spoken with Fury about making you a part of the team, and he’s agreed”

“Wait thee team?”

“You’ll be a member of the Avengers”

“Oh my God thank you!” You jump into his arms throwing your arms around his neck hugging him.

He holds you tightly, breathing in the scent of your soft hair. Loving the feel of your weight in his arms and before he knew it you was pulling away and jumping down.

“I’m so sorry! I-that was so inappropriate and unprofessional, I’m so sorry Mr Rog-“

“It’s fine! I promise it’s okay, and it’s Steve I told you this”

“Still I’m sorry”

He hates the look in your eyes, he knew that he would happily hold you in his arms for a lifetime if given the chance.

It’s been a few months now since you joined the team, everyone welcomed you with open arms. Nat and Wanda loved that there was now another woman on the team. They both became your best friends instantly.

You became close to everyone especially Steve, if you two weren’t next to each other you’d be texting. And since he was always up before you he would always make you breakfast in bed after he came back from his run. Every Friday you would make him his favourite meal that is mom use to make, it took you about five tries before you perfected it not that Steve ever complained.

You developed feelings for the super solider early on, you didn’t mean to per say, it was his own fault for being perfect, and beautiful, kind, understanding even when he had no idea what you was talking about, did you say beautiful? Oh and he had an incredible arse. So really it wasn’t your fault, but his.

It was Saturday night, you and the girls were watching rom-coms in the common room when you heard Steve and Bucky talking.

“It’s just three simple words Stevie, tell her”

“It’s not that easy jerk, what if I scare her away and she never wants to talk to me again”

“You’ll never know unless you try, just tell her you like her, easy”.

Your heart sank into your stomach.

You knew you weren’t going to be that lucky woman who he confesses he likes but a girl can dream.

Despite the pain you’ll go through seeing him with another girl, you’ll be happy for him.

When he walked past the common room he saw you, Nat and Wanda watching a movie. Wanda was throwing popcorn at you as you tried to catch them in your mouth.

Bucky nudged him, mouthing ‘do it’. He didn’t even think about what he was going to say to you other than the truth.

“Go away, this is girls night” Wanda says as she sees the pair coming into the room.

“It took us half an hour to get rid of Sam so please just leave or we’ll result to violence” Nat speaks.

“I just need to say something to Y/n then we’ll be out of your hair ladies” Steve says as his eyes are trained on you.

“Sure what’s up?”

“I love you”

The silence was deafening.

“What?”

“I love you. Pretty much from when I heard you laughing when you were training with Bucky’s class”

“Is this a prank?”

“No. Why would you thin-“

“I love you too”

Steve stood there with a shy smile on his face “Re-really?”

“Yes Steve I love you too”

“Good, good. Okay bye”. All four of them sit there and watched as Steve walked out of the room and down the corridor.

“Did he just…”

“Yep”

Bucky laughs, says his goodbyes to the women and follows his best friend.

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[lisenberry]

WIP Wednesday Thoughts        

Working title:  There’s smoke seeping out of your bloody teeth (but you’re home somehow)

(From 28 by Zach Bryan)

Recovering Price x Recovering Reader

A/N: I have way too many WIPs at the moment, but this one came out of nowhere and I’m wondering if there’s something more here.

It’s a little darker than my usual, but somehow rides the line of more fluff than angst if you can bear with me through the backstory.  I’m also seeing a trend where I love to paint Price as a complete mess and struggling with himself.  I just know he has some Big Repressed Feelings buried deep in that broad chest.  Like, the Captain takes care of everyone else on missions but needs more help than he lets on in the real world.

CW:  Accidental overdose, Addiction/Recovery, Alcoholics/Narcotics Anonymous, a whiff of PTSD, single parent/recovering addict Reader, written with afab/fem reader in mind, but it came out fairly neutral. Overall heavy subject matter, but with some hope/humor to follow.

John fucked up.  He knows it, Kyle knows it.  And now Kate does, too.

He’d promised his sergeant that he’d lay off the whiskey, but he didn’t tell him about the pills.  The oxys and the benzos.  And sometimes, when things got really bad and he got in a little too deep, the ketamine and fentanyl. 

It was pure luck that Kyle found him.  That he was worried enough to kick the door in, strong enough to pull him out of the bathtub, and quick enough to do CPR until the ambulance arrived with the Narcan. 

He hadn’t meant to end it.  His life, that is.  Just the never-ending pressure in his brain.  The headaches, the sensitivity to light, everything being so bloody fucking loud.  Two decades of explosions, gunshots, and crashes had racked up on him, each one a tithe to be repaid down the line.  And it seemed they’d all come due at once.

In the aftermath, Kate had paid him a visit when he’d been ready to check himself out of the hospital, and she’d given him a directive.  It wasn’t even an ultimatum.  There was no other choice. 

Get help.

She wasn’t kicking him off the team.  She wasn’t even putting a note in his file.  The military wouldn’t know, other than an extended personal leave signed off on by high enough names no one would question it.  A 30-day stay in a doctor-supervised substance abuse treatment facility, and another 60 days at home with weekly check-ins.

Who he told other than Garrick would be up to him.

He agreed, of course.  It was his last chance to get his shit together, maybe even more than he deserved.  The look on Kyle’s face when he regained consciousness would be ingrained on his brain for the rest of his life.

“I always thought it’d be Ghost.  Never you, Captain.”  It wasn’t disappointment that clouded the kid’s eyes with tears, but fear.  That it could happen to any of them if they weren’t careful.  That the danger didn’t end when they came home.

Price hadn’t asked for help, but he knew when to take it.

Which is how he met you...

He tried to attend four to five meetings a week.  They were usually at night, after dark, when the urge to settle into his chair with a bottle of scotch and a few extra Percocets was all he could think about.  When the distractions of the day faded and he was alone with himself. 

If he could hold the urge at bay long enough, in the company of others, even if he just sat and listened, then it would pass like a mad dog thrown a bone.  And then he could go home in peace, until the dog came back around again.

In the beginning, he jumped around to a new meeting each night.  There was St. Stephen’s, St. Giles in the Fields, St. George’s, the Salvation Army, and the Tenant’s Hall.  Some were for beginners, and others just for men.  He didn’t want to become familiar with any particular one, preferring instead to lean on the Anonymous side of the program.

He sipped his tea and ate his biscuits, all from the back row.  Quietly reflecting on the opening speaker, and the stories of hope and struggle that followed.  At first, he found it hard to relate.  Kids who got hooked on drugs in school to escape from abusive parents, or former gang members and dealers looking to buy their way out of poverty and the system that abandoned them.

He’d been born into money, went to good schools.  His demon didn’t come at him until later.  It had taken its time and made roots into an already established foundation.  Like a parasite, it didn’t take him young, or weak.  It took him when he was at his strongest and broke him down from the inside out.  He was already infected long before he saw the signs.

He had no one else to blame, and didn’t think he’d find much sympathy from telling his story.  He didn’t want it, anyway.  He just needed to get through his 60 days and be back on a mission again.

But then one Friday evening, he walked into your regular 7pm meeting in the basement of an old church and everything changed... 

It was the best around, because they had a small children’s area in the next room, with a library and a sweet old nun who would read books and watch the kids for free.  It had become a local favorite for parents without childcare, and the group had grown as close as a family. 

There were a few of you who took the snack duty very seriously.  There were no stale, day-old donuts or flavorless boxed biscuits.  Instead, the spread was enough to rival the set of the Great British Baking Show.  Cakes and puddings, shortbreads and tartes.  The coffee was freshly brewed, not the cheap instant granules.

It had made you very protective, still always a little wary of newcomers, as against the spirit of the program as that was.  It had become your safe space.  Where you brought your children, and shared your biggest regrets and darkest moments.  And mainly because, despite the progress you’d made in your recovery, you’d never fully be able to trust again.  To look at another person and not see a potential threat. 

Outside the church, you knew where the dealers stood waiting to find you on an off day.  Where the pimps lingered in the dark alleys ready to meet you when you were broke and desperate.  They were the obstacles you could see.  Like a video game level you’d failed so many times you could jump and duck and kick your way a little further with each respawn.  You already knew there was a bad guy waiting on the other side of that door and all the tricks to avoid him.

It was harder to tell with the quiet, six-and-a-half-foot tall, bearded man in the beanie hat and combat boots slumped in the back row.  He’d popped up about a week ago, and always arrived exactly five minutes early.  He'd wait patiently until the snack line died down and load his plate before sitting in the same seat, closest to the door.

He hadn’t shared with the group yet, but offered a few pleasant nods and greetings to anyone who’d initiated a conversation.  It seemed rude not to reach out, if for no other reason than to gauge his intentions for yourself.  Was he here because he was serious about his addiction, or was someone forcing him to come?  Some set number of days on his coin before he’d be free from his sentence and never be heard from again.

It didn’t matter, and it wasn’t any of your business.   

But that didn’t stop you from looking over at him a few times during your share, only to find him paying close attention.  His serious features unreadable. Enough to make you stumble on your words and lose your train of thought.  Everyone there knew your story already and could probably recite it for you.  It just helped to recount the good parts, along with the bad.

“Did you make these?” he asked afterward, a rumbling voice breaking through your thoughts as you sat in a folding chair sipping the last of your coffee. 

He held up a half-eaten salted caramel chocolate chip blondie.

“Yes, those are mine,” you answered with what you hoped was a polite smile.

“I thought I saw you bring them last time I was here.  Fucking delicious.”  He popped the rest of it into his mouth, catching the crumbs with his thick dark beard.  “But your hair’s different, isn’t it?” he added, once he’d swallowed his bite.

You reflexively raised a hand to your head, remembering with a laugh the events of your day.  You’d nearly forgotten the fiasco at work a few hours before.

“I work at a training salon.  I let the students experiment on it when there aren’t enough dolls.”  You didn’t have time to fix it before you had to pick up your kids from their afterschool program.

“It’s green.”

“Very green, yes.”  You found yourself smiling again.  Before that, it’d been black with purple tips.  “Who knows what color it will be next time.”  You stood and folded up your chair.

And tried not to read into it as he took it from you promptly and stacked it over with the others.

“Reason enough to come back and find out, then,” he called over his shoulder.

And you didn’t miss when he stopped to grab the last blondie on his way out.

[withahappyrefrain]

Talking about pegging Jake is not good while I’m OVULATING ugh fuck, he’s such a baby back bitch..I want to ruin him and put him back together..just want to BREAK him and stitch him back up..ending up sucking on my tits (oral fixation) (Did I just write this🫣🤭)

Edging Jake would be so delightful. He tries to appear unbothered, even commenting he could go "all night."

But after the fifth edge? He's a blubbering mess. His words are slurred as he begs you to let him come.

"I don't know," your fingers lightly graze his hard cock, eliciting a desperate whine from him, "Are you going to be a good boy?"

"Y-yes." He has tears in his eyes. Jake is willing to do anything for you. His hips are jerking erratically, practically humping the air. Any shame he had was gone.

Hesitantly, you prop his knees up to his chest, "You gonna apologize to everyone tomorrow?"

He nods desperately, "Yes! I'll, I'll do it tomorrow."

The head of the silicone cock brushed against his hole, making him drop his head back, sighing out of relief.

But the relief quickly turned to panic when he realized you hadn't moved, only the tip was in.

Jake needed it all.

"Who are you gonna apologize to? Tell me."

Jake briefly thinks about pushing himself down on the strap on. He has the strength, his hands are free.

But the potential punishment stopped him.

Instead, he merely whimpered, hoping those green eyes would garner sympathy from you.

"I'll give you a hint baby. It's five people. Name all five and I'll let you come."

A frustrated groan escaped Jake's lips. Your eyes narrowed and you pulled your hips back, beginning to leave him-

"B-Bradshaw!" You smiled, thrusting forward slightly.

"Good boy. Now name the rest."

"N-Nat?" His brain was scrambled. All he could think about was you, how you were ever so slowly filling him up.

"Three more."

"P-Reuben?" Jake's brain tried to think back to today's earlier events, which was what caused him to be lying on his back in the first place.

"Two more." Your hips move closer towards the back of his thighs.

Jake practically sobs, trying to think through the haze who else he offended.

"M-Mav?" His voice is weak, body shaking.

It's a delicious sight to witness.

You pull away, ignoring his cries, "No baby. He deserved that. But you should thank him for saving your neck."

You giggled as his body squirmed. Leaning over, your mouth captured one of his hard nipples, your hot tongue swirling around the hardened bud.

When met with Jake's groans, you simply tsked, not even bothering to hide your smirk. Why should you? He knew you delighted in this just as much as him.

"C'mon baby, gimme two more names." The head of the silicone cock now brushed against Jake, teasing.

After all, he needed to focus.

Your thumb wiped across the slit on the head of his cock, relishing in the groan the pretty blonde man made. Jake was putty in your hands. While getting up and walking away was possible, the thought never crossed his mind.

Your other hand gripped the base of the strap on, guiding it towards where Jake wanted it the most.

"Two more names Jake. I'm waiting."

His whole head felt fuzzy. With each minute that passed he slipped further and further into that headspace. It's what he craved, what he needed. It was why he always acted so bold and brash. From the first day you met him, you knew he was silently begging for someone to put him in his place.

He still wrestled with it, the idea of fully submitting himself to someone else. It went against everything he had been told, everything that had been ingrained in his head from the beginning.

A harsh thrust, filling him completely sent the pilot gripping the bed sheets. His hips thrashed against the mattress, struggling to adjust to the size.

The privilege of time had been revoked several edges ago. You pulled your hips back, only to thrust forward again, building up a fast rhythm.

"S'good." Jake was a withering mess underneath you, a far cry from the cocky man from earlier. From how his cock twitched to his knuckles turning white, you knew he was close.

"I know. Such a shame."

He's so lost in pleasure your words don't even register. No, it's not until you abruptly pull out, leaving him empty and desperate that Jake realizes what's happened.

"I told you baby. Two more names."

[rachelambery]

dbf!joel no outbreak hcs

nsfw near the end

- joel owns 1 pair of boots. at this point it's an ongoing joke that they're gonna outlive him, the once hard protective fabric has turned into something that now resembles tissue paper. they're pretty sure he thinks it's his second child

- you're unsure how he was a single father with his inability to cook anything except for breakfast, as far as you're aware him and sarah lived on frozen pizzas and Chinese takeout.

- as cheap as he is, he refused to skimp out on birthday gifts for you. even when you say "i don't want anything!" he'll show up to your party with a box of whatever trinket reminded him of you

- of him and tommy, he was definitely the lower maintenance of the two. everytime you'd sit next to them by the fire, the conversation of eye cream would always come up, maria put him onto it, and he REALLY things joel would benefit from it.

- joel doesn't play about his cigarettes, you're unsure how all of his teeth haven't fallen out with how many times he smokes a day. you'll look the other way and when you look back it'll just appear in his mouth.

- he smells like a mix of smoke and whiskey, as gross as it sounds, at this point the smell is comforting. reminds you of him. his truck.

- you're pretty sure he's narrowly avoided death with how poorly he cares for himself when he's ill. you'll go with your dad to work and your eyes will settle on him, coughing up a storm and practically vomiting while he builds the roof. when he eventually passes by and you question his state, he'll just say. "it's a cold. everyone gets it"

- once sarah moved out, he'd stay way too late at your dads house. and on nights back from college when you couldn't sleep, you'd end up sitting next to him on the couch, laughing. after a while you'd both fall asleep on the couch, your head normally nuzzled into his neck, enjoying the mix of whiskey and smoke that emanated off him.

- don't let his buff physique fool you. that man is only athletic looking, even at your state, when you hadn't trained since middle school track, you'd smoke him on a race to his truck everytime.

- he's the cheapest man you've ever met. in the 18+ years you've known him, you've only ever seen him buy 1 new pair of pants, and that was onto after he'd ripped his old reliables. you're pretty sure that's the first time you've seen that man cry like that.

- every bandaid in his house has dinosaurs on it, sarah used to refuse to use anything other than dinosaur bandaids, so it's ingrained in his brain to only buy them. even though she's been out of the house for months.

- he once fell off the roof during a job, they don't let him up there anymore.

nsfw starts here !! minors avert your gaze !!

- he's very respectful during sex, talking you through it, kissing you at every opportunity, praising you.

- he refuses to listen to you when you say your legs still work after, he'll pick you up bridal style and lay you in bed.

- he loves teasing you, it's actually sick how much he loves it. placing a hand on your thigh during family dinners, slowly working its way up until it's barely not touching you.

- he's a munch (self indulgent)

- whenever you're alone, he'll pull you into his lap nearly immediately, sometimes just to toy with your hair and sometimes to tease you

- speaking of hair, he likes when your hands find their way to his hair, pulling and gripping it

ok thank uuuuu

this was so self indulgent it's actually insane :P i apologize for my actions

[teecupangel]

Been holding a thought on my brain for too long abt putting Desmond in Situations: have you watched Dimension 20's The Unsleeping City? At least s1. Bc 1) watch it, it's so good & 2) I specifically in this situation think abt Bad Weather being the normal version of the bar in Broadway that Kingston & Misty go to. Pre-canon Desmond seeing past the Umbral Arcana & getting involved in magic shenanigans..... Yeah.

You know his latent Eagle Vision is peeling out & seeing the magic shit happening in New York City. You KNOWWWWW. Please tell me one of your followers has been thinking this too.

I have good news for you, nonny, because I have just started watching Dimension 20 this year but I am a slow watcher so I’ve only gotten as far as the first 3 episodes of Unsleeping City season 2 (atm, I think my fav D20 moment is with the Bad Kids’ “Spring Break, I believe in you!” XD). I’m one of those few people who’s pathway to D&D and TTRPG is Oxventure→No Rolls Barred/Chaotic Neutral→Mystery Quest so I am absolutely late to the party XD

Anyway, for this one, we need to do a bit of housekeeping.

I’m basing this on the title of the opening theme New York 2006 because I think that’s the year Season 1 was set (feel free to correct me though)

This means that Desmond would be 19 at that point and we can push it that he’s already working in Bad Weather.

Now, I like the idea that Bad Weather is the normal version of the bar that Kingston and Misty goes to but, may I suggest an alternative?

An earlier possible way to add Desmond to all these shenanigans is to make Bad Weather one of the bars Sofia and Kugrash go to for their ‘hairy baby free drinks scam’.

Towards the end, maybe the last bar they go to, Desmond walks up to Sofia and requested that they leave because the big rat pet she had would make other customers uncomfortable.

Sofia and Kugrash are already drunk at this moment but they hear Desmond call Kugrash a rat and are like “you can see him???”.

Kugrash immediately remembers Desmond as one of the homeless kids he helped when Desmond first moved into the city and had clocked him as ‘strange’ because there was something about him that felt... not exactly magical but almost magical-adjacent.

This ends with Sofia and Kugrash inviting Desmond to their new party as a recruit (with Sofia thinking both (1) this boy needs someone in his life to take care of him and now I’m trying not to cry because my cheating (as far as she knows) husband and I never had kids and (2) maybe he and Pete can get along as newbies with me)

And that is how our Intrepid Heroes managed to recruit an Assassin Rogue who may or may not multiclass to Gloom Stalker in a different playstyle to Liam Wilhelmina.

.

Unorganized Notes:

This is a Desmond who doesn’t know about his destiny or his ancestors but his training on the Farm is so ingrained into him that it makes him a Rogue.

Because of his lack of knowledge, we can argue that he could turn into a Thief Rogue instead of Assassin in this one because he had never assassinated anyone before.

In terms of playstyle, he’d actually be more a close combat attacker that uses some kind of switchknife with sneak attack being part of 'bonus action: hide -> main action: sneak attack')

Another suggestion I have is for Desmond to subclass as Phantom, more because of ‘Whisper of the Dead’ where every short or long rest, he can gain one skill or tool proficiency and the flavor text describes it as one of the ghostly presence shares its knowledge to the user. Desmond has no idea what this means because this is pre-canon but this is actually his ancestors managing to create a link to him in some form thanks to the Umbral Arcana mixing with his ‘destiny’.

If you want Desmond to be given the illusion of choice and not be a Rogue, we can make him a Warlock ‘worshiping’ an unknown Fathomless. In this setup, they don’t know who Desmond’s patron is and Desmond himself just shrugs because he can do magic so that’s nice. Part of his deal is that he receives messages from his patron in the form of texts on his phone. They all come from an unknown number he can’t call and the texts are always like ‘The Scholar is pleased with your desire to learn about the history of this place’ or ‘The Prophet is worried of your health and asks that you requests your companions for a rest’ or ‘The Hunter suggests you still find a weapon even if you are using magic’ and this is some weird shit even for Kingston because it seems like Desmond has multiple patrons or maybe even an entire pantheon of unknown gods/beings.

Abstergo is going to be so fucked in this one because, by the time they try to kidnap Desmond, he’d probably be around level 10~12 and maybe even living with Pete in his apartment.

And yes. Desmond absolutely knows Ricky as Mister March as well XD