#and then one thing leads to another and he kisses me and i was like kind of trying to be like nooo we're just friends I'm in a relationship

[lipglossanon]

Our Lip Are Sealed

Brother-In-Law!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

A Little More Savory tier commission from Anon 💜

Word Count: 2173 (I keep going over 😩 lol)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, cheating, dirty talk, cucking (although the husband doesn’t know lol), breeding, size kink, breeding kink, kissing, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

proofread ✍️

It’s another dumb family get-together hosted by your husband, which is basically an excuse for him to invite his brother and a few close cousins and get blackout drunk. This time, he uses the excuse of it being the holidays. 

“It’s the best time for families to come together!”

His exact words to you as the first of the invitees showed up at your front door. You’re honestly not surprised. It’s something you’ve come to expect from your husband. It’s put a strain on your marriage, although he somehow seems oblivious to it. The only person to lend you a sympathetic ear about the whole thing is your brother-in-law, Leon. 

He knows how much it bothers you, always giving you an empathetic smile once the drinking starts. You’ve noticed that he doesn’t drink as much when he’s around his brother—a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by your husband. 

“What happened with you? Y’used to drink like a fish,” he laughs, face red. A few of the cousins chuckle along with him.

Leon shrugs with an easy grin in place, “Just like to take it easy these days. Enjoy the finer things in life.”

He shoots you a glance, and you go hot all over. Later, after everyone either passes out where they sit or go crashes in one of the guest rooms, Leon’s the last one standing to help you carry your lush of a husband to bed. 

Your heart races when Leon’s hand brushes across your lower back; it could be seen as an accident, just him trying to help his brother stagger along, but you know it’s more than that. Excitement thrills through your body, making you bite your bottom lip while you glance at Leon from under your lashes.

The first time anything illicit happened, it wasn’t even that bad. After helping your husband to bed, you sat on the couch with Leon and spilled your marital woes. He drew you in close, a sweet side hug, and the next thing you remember is grinding in his lap as you make-out on the couch. 

Since that time, your physical relationship has tipped over into the taboo; it’s a very well-kept secret between the two of you. No one suspects a thing—least of all your husband. As much as you hate the drinking and the constant informal parties, Leon makes the headache bearable. 

Dumping your husband on the bed, you turn him in his side to help prevent any choking if he happens to get sick later. Leon stands behind you, body heat a beacon against your back. 

He runs a hand down your arm. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“Leon,” you whisper urgently, eyes glued to your husband’s snoring face. “Wait until we leave.”

“Why? He won’t hear a thing,” he presses himself completely against you, rocking his bulge against the swell of your ass. “Gonna fuck you right here, sweetheart. Break this bed in.”

Slick coats the gusset of your panties, fabric sticking to the lips of your cunt. Biting your lip, you let Leon lead you around the edge of the bed until he’s pushing you down onto your side. 

He kisses you before slipping a hand under your dress to brush across your soaked slit.

“Fuck, so wet already. You want my cock?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want it so bad.”

“Bet he doesn’t fuck you like you need, does he?” Leon goads, working your panties down and off your legs. “What a fucking loser.”

“Leon,” you gasp. “You shouldn’t say that about your brother.”

“Why? It’s the truth,” he cups your pussy, middle and ring finger parting your slick folds. “Too bad you married the wrong Kennedy, sweetheart.”

Whining softly, you roll your hips down into his hand, “Leon, please, just touch me.”

“I gotta finger this tight hole or ‘m not gonna fit,” he croons, fucking his fingers into your fluttering walls. “We both know this little pussy hasn’t had a cock this big.”

Keening in your throat, you ruck your dress up so Leon has easier access to the apex of your thighs. 

“Look at that pretty hole,” he groans, fingers seeking out the spot at the front of your cunt that makes you squeeze down on the digits. “Married pussy’s the best.”

“D-don’t say that,” your thighs twitch, arousal burning hot in your belly.

“Why not?” He grins, and it makes your heart race. “It’s true. You’re married, and you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

Cunt squeezing down on his fingers, you tangle your fingers in the sheets, shooting a quick glance to make sure your husband is still passed out. 

“I can’t wait anymore,” Leon mutters to himself, fingers slipping from your wet heat with a wet schlick. 

His middle and ring finger are shiny with slick as he pops them in his mouth with a groan. “Taste so good, but I’m too impatient to lick you til you scream.”

You gasp, watching with dilated eyes while he takes his shirt off and pulls his jeans and briefs down to his thighs. The tip of his fat cock drips precum down the shaft, making your mouth water for a taste.

He grips the base and shakes his dick at you. “Look at you drooling over it. Bet you’d love if I fucked that sweet little throat. Don’t worry, one of these days, I’ll have you choking and gagging all over my dick.”

You nod along with his words, clit throbbing like a second heartbeat and pussy dripping slick all over your thighs. He’s big. Much bigger than your husband’s dick; it sends a pulse through your cunt, knowing he’s about to fill you up and stretch you out on his cock.

Kneeling in front of you, he humps your pussy, thick cock, sliding through your slick folds and across your clit. Whimpering, you part your thighs even further. 

“Please, Leon.”

His head presses against your hole but doesn’t sink in any further. He grips his cock and rocks the tip in and out of your cunt. 

“Am I gonna fit in this tight little hole, baby?” He mocks, slapping the fat head of his dick down onto your wet pussy. “God, I’m gonna stretch this little pussy out.”

Whimpering, your eyes dart over to your husband passed out on his side of the bed. Your marital bed is pretty big—he always complained about needing the space—and now you’re appreciating that fact more than ever. 

Leon clicks his tongue. “What a poor, frustrated little pussy. She’s crying she needs my cock so bad.”

Choking out a moan, your head thrashes back and forth against your pillow while Leon sinks his thick cock inch by inch in your snug pussy. 

“Fucking hell, he’s not been giving it to you, has he?”

“Uh uh,” you hiccup a whine. “You’re too big. It hurts.”

“Aww,” he leans forward, bottoming out in your pussy with a grunt. “We’ll just have to get this hole used to being so full. Doesn’t that feel good?”

Your pussy flutters and pulses around his cock, slick coating his length. “Fuck, it’s so big.”

“Yeah, it is,” he chuckles before kissing your temple. “And your married pussy is a perfect fit. So snug and wet.”

Covering your mouth with your hand, you cry out against your palm as Leon begins to fuck you with hard, deep strokes. Eyes rolling back in your head and toes curling in pleasure, you rock your hips against his thrusts, pussy gripping his cock like a vice. His pelvis grinds against your clit every time he bottoms out in your cunt. 

It’s so unfair how good this feels—knowing your husband’s right next to you as his brother pounds into your needy pussy. The pleasure crests higher and higher, body jostling with the movement so hard your tits bounce underneath your dress.

“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he whispers, grinning down at you, sweat darkening his fringe. “Cum all inside this cheating slutty pussy.”

“No!” Your voice cracks. “You can’t! What about m-my husband?”

“What about him?” Leon swivels his hips, the fat tip of his cock rubbing against your g-spot hard enough to make you squeal. “You’re fucking gagging to have me stuff you. You love my cock rawing this sweet little puss.” 

“Noo,” you cling to his biceps, fingers digging into his skin.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I guess I’ll just pull out and—“

You tangle your hands in his hair and bring him closer for a dirty, tongue-filled kiss, pussy walls gripping his dick tightly. 

“Please, don’t,” you whine. “Want your cock, want you to cum in me.”

“Fuck, baby, gotta keep quiet,” Leon laughs in your ear, dick slowly rutting in and out of your squelching cunt. “This fat pussy’s so loud, gonna get us caught.”

“Leon,” you whine, nails digging into his bare shoulders. He hisses in pleasure, thrusting harder into your clenching heat. “Feels so good, can’t help it.”

“Yeah? This tight pussy just can’t stop creaming my cock, can she?” He coos in your ear, lips nipping at your lobe. “Want me to put a baby in this cheating pussy?”

Eyes fluttering closed, you moan loudly, legs wrapping around his waist to lock behind his back. “Oh, please, want you to knock me up.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll breed this hot little pussy,” he groans, moving up onto outstretched arms. His hips roll against yours, cock plunging deeper into your dripping hole. “Gonna blow my load in your greedy cunt til it takes.”

Pulling out suddenly, he grips your hips to manhandle you over onto your front. He yanks your ass back, pressing his palm on your shoulders to push your head onto the pillow. His cock bullies back into your sopping wet pussy, the sound—plap plap plap—filling the bedroom. 

You moan into your pillow, drool soaking the material as Leon rails you into the bed you share with your husband. 

He slows his pace, dragging his dick halfway out before sinking back in. “Which cock’s better, mine or my brother’s?”

“Huh?” Your brain is mush at this point, your thoughts concentrating on cumming all over his cock while he creampies you. 

“I said which cock is better,” he thrusts deep enough the tip bumps your cervix, making you moan weakly. “Mine or my brother’s?”

You stumbled over your words, not able to think when he reaches under your body to play with your clit. 

“Better question,” he purrs into your ear, “which cock do you love? Hmm? The one that makes you cum? The one that’s gonna breed this fat pussy til she’s pregnant? Or…”

He pulls out, and you whine while he smacks his wet cock against your ass, “Some fucking cuck who passes out while his brother dicks down his wife?”

“What’s it gonna be, baby?” He teases the tip in and out, in and out, until you finally press your ass back against him. 

“Yours, Leon,” you nearly sob when he fucks his cock back into your cunt. “Love your cock, s’the only one that makes me cum.”

He humps your ass, dick pounding at your drippy hole. “And? C’mon, what else?”

“A-and it’s the only cock I want to creampie my pussy,” you mewl, thrusting back against him. “Please, Leon, want you to cum in me. Cum in my cheating little pussy til you knock me up.”

“Goddamn,” he groans, fucking you so hard and fast the bed shakes. “Good fucking girl, gonna breed this needy pussy, gonna knock up my brother’s wife—fuck!”

He slips his hand around your hip and begins rubbing your slippery clit in quick circles. 

“Cum for me, want this slutty pussy creaming my cock so I can fill her up,” he bites the shell of your ear. “Cum for me, so I can give you a baby.”

He slaps your clit with the flat of his fingers, and it pushes you over the edge, climax overtaking your body. You squirt, slick gushing from your hole to coat his pelvis and run down your thighs. 

“Fucking hell, that’s it, baby, show me how much this pussy likes my cock,” Leon moans. 

You shake and scream, burying your face in the pillow to muffle the noise. Fireworks explode behind your eyes while your pussy milks his cock over and over, dripping slick all over the two of you. 

“That’s it, fuck, gonna breed you nice and deep like I promised,” Leon curses under his breath and thrusts a few more times against you before sinking to the hilt. 

Hot, thick spurts of cum fill your fluttering walls until it spills out around his cock. Rutting against your ass, he grinds his cock in your pulsing cunt. After a few minutes, he takes in a deep breath and pulls out with a low groan. You lay there, panting heavily into your pillow, body completely spent. 

He smacks the head of his cock against your sensitive and puffy cunt, “Since this naughty little pussy is just leaking out all my cum, guess I’ll have to stuff it again.”

[pinegreenapples]

Radiostatic Fic Recs Part 3!

Hello everyone! I'm back again with a third installment in fics that I believe are great reads! A quick reminder as always, read the tags and if you don't like something, just tab out! The previous parts can be found here. Part 1 | Part 2

Finished

Sound Effect!

This is a silly little crackfic by the beloved ohdeercoffee! It features proto Vox who has been cursed to be a silent film where all his speech is shown as title cards. This leads to a misunderstanding between him and Alastor, but everyone walks away pleased with the aftermath.

Wallow

This series is heartbreaking. It had me shedding real tears as I read it. Alastor and Vox reckoning with the aftermath of their falling out and the mistakes they made that have cost each other everything.

Oh, I'm gonna be wounded/Oh, you're gonna be my wound

Alastor spends an evening devouring Vox as he watches through his cameras. They end up talking about some things afterwards.

Questionable Attachment

Alastor goes to Vee Tower to mess with Vox because he's bored. They end up kissing and Alastor finds himself consumed with the thought of kissing Vox again.

a glass full of love

Alastor accidentally gets dosed with love potion and falls madly in love with Vox. Vox is milking it for everything he can get.

Playing the Victim

As always, I am a sucker for lykomancer's stories and this one is no different. Vox captures Alastor and implants various hypnotic codes in his psyche before fucking him.

Unsurpassable skills in espionage

Vox manages to collect dirt on the hotel that could ruin them, Alastor is tasked with retrieving said dirt because he's so well versed in subterfuge, and not, as Angel claims, because Vox wants to fuck him.

Two for the Show

This fic was so good! There's something about ohdeercoffee's smut that is just absolutely delectable. Alastor has a little game he plays each time he goes into rut. He goes to bars and flirts with sinners only to blue ball them the second they leave the bar. This time Alastor spots a peculiar looking sinner with a box for a head and decides he will be his next victim.

(Temporary) Truce

Alastor is going through heat after seven years away from Hell. Vox notices the signs and steps in to help.

The Trials and Tribulations of Alastor's Cursed Pussy

As you can imagine from the title, this series deals with Alastor going through estrus and the various points in their relationship that Vox has helped Alastor through it. This series is in turn sexy, funny, and heart wrenching.

Haven

This fic is so sad but so wonderful. Alastor is so desperately worried for his friend and it provides a wonderful characterization of his inner monologue. Vox pisses off another overlord and is kidnapped. Alastor searches the whole of Pentagram City to find him and bring him home.

Two Halves of a Whole Idiot

Alastor goes into heat and chases Vox down as part of a mating ritual. Vox is super into it. They end up fucking about it.

Man or Machine

Vox has just finished another surgical upgrade and Alastor becomes curious as to how much of Vox remains organic and how much has turned mechanical. He conducts his own investigation.

Thought Contagion

Vox works until he drops and Alastor finds it funny to keep a tally of all the silly places Vox has ended up passed out in. During this latest instance, Vox starts to dream and Alastor finds himself drawn to the fantasy displayed on his screen.

Epitaph

This fic is very sad, much hurt and no comfort. Alastor finally commits the inevitable and deals with the fall out of his own needs.

Shadow of Yourself

Another delectable smut piece by the beloved princeliest! Alastor lets slip that he and his shadow share sensation and Vox decides to bring that to the bedroom.

Coup de foudre

The hotel hosts a party to celebrate their win against the exorcists. Alastor meets Vox again and finds himself weak to the man's charms even after decades apart.

Meet Me at My Frequency

Starting after episode 2, Vox's actions push him and Alastor to actually reconcile with each other. The rest of the series follows the rest of canon with some small twists prompted by their rekindled relationship.

Even Exchange

So sad but it has a happy ending! A very nice fic for some good catharsis and exploring Vox's complicated feelings for Alastor. Heaven plans a larger attack and Alastor and Charlie meet with other overlords to secure their support. The Vees agree and join the fight. Vox sustains a major injury.

Video Fucked The Radio Star

Alastor comes to pick up Angel from the studio and Valentino bites him. Unfortunately for Alastor, Val's venom is a potent aphrodisiac. Vox offers to help him through it.

Floating, Where You Belong

This is a delightfully dark fic where Vox hypnotizes and mind breaks Alastor into his own personal sex kitten.

The New and Novel

Alastor grows curious about Vox's hypnotism and he asks Vox to use it on him while they have sex. The end results are very worth it.

Boredom Ruins Everything

Alastor feels particularly vulnerable after his fight with Adam and he worries that he might be overpowered and taken advantage of. This leads him to make a deal with Vox to ensure his own peace of mind. Mostly a smut series, but a very good smut series! Binturong Rose has an excellent grasp of the push-pull between these two and masterfully incorporates that in their sex life.

You'll Know

Alastor's first sexual encounter was deeply disappointing. So much so, that he's never attempted something like that again. After meeting and falling in love with Vox, he decides to give it another try and finds that perhaps sex isn't all bad after all.

Shadows and Light

This fic has been rewritten and this is its newest iteration! Vox brings home his latest film to watch with Alastor. Watching it together brings out some unexpected revelations.

So An Author & A Serial Killer Go On A Date

This one's super cute! Based on a well known tumblr prompt, Alastor and Vox meet because Alastor is a serial killer and Vox is a murder novelist and they have been searching similar things on the internet.

In Your Dreams, Old Pal

Vox has been dreaming of Alastor and himself together for a while. Alastor decides to take a peek and is disgusted to find the simpering dream version of him Vox has made. In a fit of rage, he eats his dream counterpart and accidentally seals his own fate. Now he has to play the part of himself every night in Vox's dreams.

Background Noise

A fluffy fic about Alastor's hooves and how cute Vox finds them!

Nothing Above the Knee

A smutty fic of Vox deeply appreciating Alastor's hooves!

Red Bow Tie

Alastor reminisces on the past and his current relationship with Vox. A bittersweet piece about what could have been and what still is.

golden rule, it's just for show!

An unfortunate incident at an overlord meeting turns all the overlords back to their human forms. Alastor finds himself mesmerized by the slight figure Vox cuts and resolves to make him his.

Brand me (so I'll have a reason to be mad)

This fic is super sexy. I really enjoyed the erotica and characterization of the two. Vox presents Alastor with a piece of jewelry with his brand on it. Alastor ridicules him for it, but does he really consider the piece as tacky as he claims?

Sinking Funds

Alastor discovers that Vox has given him the most exclusive credit card one can get in Hell and decides to take it for a spin to see how much Vox cares about Alastor spending his money.

You Want It Rough, You're Out Of Bounds

I will forever and always be a huge Mothball Milkshake fan. Any time they write radiostatic, I am running to read it. Here, Moth took a break from Signals to give us a lovely smutty fic. Alastor and Vox have finally started up a relationship of sorts. They've had sex several times but vox has never been able to make Alastor come. He's determined to change that tonight!

Wind Me Up and Break Me Down

Another fic by the wonderful Mothball Milkshake! (As I said, I am their number one fan lol) This is loosely connected to the above fic but can be read separately. Vox ties Alastor up and worships his body.

scatterbrain

This fic is sweet and hilarious. Alastor discovers that sleeping is technically optional in Hell and stops sleeping for several decades. Lilith steps in and forces him to sleep until he is fully rested.

The Merman

For my Vox merman lovers, come eat! Alastor has heard tale of these merfolk and has been working to capture one for study. He stumbles across Vox and he attempts to capture him. Vox is amused and decides to keep the pretty human that tried to capture him.

In Season

This fic is cute and funny! A little cracky but a good read! Vox and Alastor used to spend their autumn rut/heat together since both their sinner forms went into heat/rut at the same time. Even as enemies, they kept this arrangement. As Alastor goes into his first rut after his sabbatical, he fully expects Vox to join him like normal. However, Vox is not happy that he got left in the lurch for seven years and refuses to cave to his desires.

Research and Development

Velvette and Valentino are sick of Vox constantly obsessing over Alastor and order him to do something about it. He ends up creating a virtual reality so that he can finally fuck Alastor and maybe get it out of his system. However, the program seems to have other ideas.

when the flies fell

A modern day human AU wherein Alastor convinces Vox to help him summon a demon. This has worse consequences than either of them foresaw as they race to fix their mistake.

Unfinished

Harlem Sunset

Set after the events of episode 2. Alastor approaches Vox to propose scheduled brawls outside of the city. Vox decides to take him up on it and it sets in motion a chain of events that can't be stopped. Just a small note, none of the fight scenes are on camera, so to speak, in the fic. However, the developing relationship is sweet and I am enjoying it a lot!

My Body, Your Temple

This is a masterfully done human AU set in the 1930s. Vox comes down to New Orleans in an effort to poach New Orleans' very own Alastor Deveaux, Alastor finds him absolutely insufferable. They find themselves drawn into each other's orbit and find themselves tangled in an all consuming desire for one another.

Believe Me, (The Sun Always Shines on TV)

In a fit of rage, Valentino damages Vox's head so badly that he can't fix it himself, so he goes to the one person he knows can piece him back together. Doing so forces both Alastor and Vox to confront the ugly history between them.

Summer Wine

Charlie strikes a deal with Heaven to trial run redemption with a sinner of her choosing. By pure accident, Vox and Alastor are selected instead and must work together as they find themselves back on Earth in the modern day.

Perhaps it's Pedestrian

Okay so I normally have a rule that a fic has to have at least three chapters before I toss it up on the list because I always hate clicking on rec lists that are full of one chapter WIPS. However, this fic is so long and wonderfully written for the two chapters it does have that it deserves a spot so more people can go encourage the author with kudos and comments!

Vox and Val break up again and Vox goes to a bar to drink and find a one night stand. Alastor makes that much harder than it should be to do so.

Animal Natures

Another favorite by the dear lykomancer! This time it's a series. As the title suggests, Alastor goes into rut and Vox helps him through it. Unfortunately, Alastor likes it a little too much and now that's Vox's fault, somehow.

For the sake of research and understanding

Alastor is curious about why others seem so obsessed with sex, so he goes to his good pal Vox to ask him to explain to him. One thing leads to another, and Vox finds himself giving a practical demonstration.

An Unforgettable Debut | 1961

After several years of hard work, Vox is finally ready to launch his own studio and has thrown a huge party to celebrate. Unfortunately for him, someone has ordered a hit out on one of the Radio Demon's companions and he's been caught in the crossfire. Will he be able to make it to his party on time?

Modulation Missteps

I'm really enjoying this fic and the worldbuilding the author has put in to make a comprehensive narrative. This is a Human AU where Vox and Alastor were childhood best friends who separated. Years later, Vox forces a reconnect and they have to work through all the ugly emotions they've both been harboring for over a decade.

Now only dogs follow me (Is He Following?)

Several years ago, Vox was an incredible detective solving serial killer cases until he suffered a mental break and was fired. After finally getting his life back on track, all his progress is threatened as a new killer comes to town and the department needs him again. Luckily, he finds support in his old childhood friend, Alastor.

it's not murder, it's research and waste disposal

Okay so. This guy is dark and very gory. And I do mean that a lot. Please read the tags before diving into this fic, it is absolutely not for the faint of heart and it has even grossed me out a few times. That said, it is beautifully written and the relationship between Alastor and Vox is simply divine.

Vox moves to New Orleans and meets Alastor and immediately falls in love. Alastor wishes Vox would choke and die until he finds Vox attempting to dump a body in the bayou and suddenly Vox is so much more interesting.

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[archangeldyke-all]

I feel this is somewhat fitting for today,

So reader comforting sev after silco died (I feel she is the most sad out of everyone because she always saw him as some sort of father figure ngl and he sorta neglected her or never validated her)

-🫖

:( my poor baby. he's like her fucked up bestie/boss/dad

men and minors dni

they send lock or deckard to tell you if sevika's gonna be late getting home.

thieram if she's drunk and moping at the bar.

but ran only ever comes when something bad's happened.

and jinx has never accompanied any of silco's goons on one of these errands.

you assume the worst. your heart drops to your ass at the sight of ran and jinx on your doorstep, both looking haggard and scared.

jinx reaches out and grabs your arm before you can start weeping, shaking you a bit. "relax, would ya? it's not her, she's fine she's just..."

you gulp, looking to ran. they sigh. "silco's dead. she's... just sitting in his office... drinking."

jinx breaks into tears on the walk to the last drop, disappearing in an alleyway for the night. ran is solemn as they lead you to the bar.

"w-what happened?"

"dunno. jinx won't say. think she mighta killed him." ran shrugs. "think she did something bad in piltover too. shit's stirring and silco's dead and sevika's supposed to take over if this happens but--"

"take a breath." you say, patting your friend's back. "'s okay. she's gonna be fine."

this isn't true. but you know your wife wouldn't want you telling her troops any different. sevika's going to wake up sobbing for years to come, just another thing on the long list of losses that haunt her. you'll be there, though, like you are now-- to hold her and let her cry in your chest-- to remind her that she's got you. and you've got her.

she's slumped asleep on the couch when you enter silco's office. ran leaves you alone, closing the door behind themselves as the leave.

"sev." you whisper, gently nudging your wife. she snaps awake, taking a moment to drunkenly register her surroundings and your face, before she bursts into silent tears, leaning forward to bury herself against you. "fuck, honey." you coo, wrapping her up into a hug. "i'm so fuckin' sorry."

"i can't believe he fucking died. he's fucking invincible!" she cries. your heart shatters, and you kiss her scalp.

"sevika, baby. you know he isn't."

"but-- it's my fucking job to make him invincible and--"

"sev." you pull her face away from your chest, wiping up her tears and forcing her to look you in the eye. "it's your job to take over if shit goes south. that's your job. silco was not a god-- he was a man. and there is nothing you coulda done to save him, baby."

"i..." she trails off. you frown, already knowing what she was going to say, your heart breaking.

"you're gonna miss him."

she nods. "i fuckin' hate him, too." she says.

you chuckle, nodding. "i know, baby. that's the power of love."

sevika huffs and leans against you again. "how long do i have before shit gets real bad out there?"

"long enough to come home and get a proper sleep in." you say, dragging her toward the door.

sevika doesn't resist, letting you take her home. letting you care for her.

you kiss her before you leave the office, sweet and chaste but for long enough that you melt together. "thank you." you sigh.

"for what?"

"letting me take care of you before your big debut... sevika... the lioness of the lanes." you tease. sevika snorts at the nickname and rolls her eyes, and your heart flutters in your chest at the sound.

hi if u know who came up with the lioness of the lanes nickname pls lemme know so i can credit them!

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

[verycoolusername1]

Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another

Summary: Luke meets your parents, which leads to taking a huge step in your relationship.

Luke Hughes x gn!reader

Warning! Mentions of a embarrassing childhood story(that I have made up((it isn't that bad) 😔)

A/N: I have never been more tired but man is Hotch(from criminal minds) so damn fine in the earlier seasons- I miss him more every single day.

And I gave your parents names to help me keep track of them... guys say hi to Bobby and Athena(definitely wasn't taken from a certain fox/abc show about first responders whatsoever)!!

You fixed your hair for what felt like the tenth time in the past five minutes. Luke groaned quietly besides you, wanting to do nothing more than to hold you.

Yours and Luke's relationship was fairly new, only ten months in, and you decided it was time for him to meet your parents.

"Are you done now?" Luke asked the question for the 3rd time.

You sighed. "Yes, I'm just nervous. Everything needs to be perfect."

Your parents were coming in to visit you since Luke and the team were staying home a couple of days.

"Everything is going to be perfect, no need to stress." He kissed the crown of your head.

"Well, I'm sorry for wanting my parents to like you." You joked, but it did nothing to ease your nerves.

The doorbell rings, scaring the two of you.

"Shit," you cursed. "They're here." You grabbed Luke's hand and took him to the living room but not before fixing his shirt and hair.

"My hair is fine, baby stop it." Luke swats your hand away.

"No, it's not," You continued to fix it before the doorbell rang again, and you sighed in frustration. "Don't touch it."

Luke rolls his eyes. "Aye aye captain."

You walked up to the door and were greeted by your parents.

"Oh Y/N there you are." Your mother smiled warmly at you.

"I was beginning to think we were at the wrong place." Your dad joked.

"Just had to fix stuff up is all." You said, but you didn't miss your mom's glance. "Not like that, mom!"

Your mom only chuckled in response, moving past you. "Now, where's this boy you keep talking about?"

"He has a name." You told her.

"Which is?" Your dad snickered at your mom's patience.

"Luke." He appeared from the bedroom. "Luke Hughes. It's a pleasure to meet you both, Mrs. and Mr. Y/L/N."

"Oh please, sweetie, call me Athena." Your mom looked at him warmly.

Your dad shook his hand. "Bobby is fine. No need to be formal son."

While they shook hands, your mom whispered to you. "He sure is tall."

"Yeah I know, you should see his brothers." You told her.

Your mother's eyes widened. "There's more??"

"Just two mom, both older." You answered.

"So tell me about yourself, Luke, Y/N was just telling me you had two brothers." Athena spoke.

The four of you guys recently moved to the kitchen as you got the plates.

"Uh yeah, two older brothers, Quinn and Jack. We actually live with Jack, Y/N cause I asked and me and Jack work together. He makes appearances here and there mostly to tease us."

"Yeah, siblings tend to do that." Bobby chuckles.

"You said you and Jack work together? What do you guys do?" Athena asked.

"Oh uh actually me and my brothers play hockey, professionally." He answered.

"So your other brother Quinn isn't on the same team with you two." Bobby put the pieces together.

"Yeah, don't get to see him much during the season, but during the summer, we hang out all the time." Luke adds.

You came back with plates, clearly struggling. Something that Luke had noticed.

"Hey baby, cmon, let me." He took two of the plates away from you and served your parents.

Your parents observed the scene with a silent conversation between eyes.

"I was doing fine, Luke." You sighed.

"You were totally going to drop the plates. You don't have to do things by yourself. You can always ask Jack and I to help, I tell you that all the time." Luke mumbles.

"Y/N was always known for being stubborn. It'll take them a while to finally let you help." Bobby reassuranced Luke.

"Yeah, like once when they were younger, they were so sure they were going to be a lawyer." Athena says an example. "But refused to ask for any advice from their aunt who was a district attorney, said they wanted to do it by themselves and didn't need help from anyone."

"Sounds like Y/N, alright." Luke chuckles but quickly stops when he sees your glare.

You noticed your parents seem to be welcoming Luke in with open arms, which was a shock, considering the last time you brought your ex home, they were furious. But then again, you were also a teenager. Now you're an adult.

Your dad seemed to catch the interaction between the two of you and laughed. "Don't be mean to your boyfriend Y/N." He scolds playfully.

"I wasn't being mean just warning him is all." You smiled innocently.

Now your mother started laughing. "We certainly raised them well."

"Yeah, no, we did." Bobby chuckles alongside his wife.

The four of you ate the meal with laughter and jokes till it was time for your parents to leave.

Your dad talking with Luke before pulling him into a hug, your mom pulled you to the side.

"He's good for you, Y/N." She said, you nodded.

"I know." You smiled softly.

"Don't let him slip through your fingers honey." She hugged you. "And let him help you from time to time." She winked.

You groaned. "I thought we was over that."

"Oh please we'll never get over that sweetie." She kissed you on the cheek. "We'll text you when we get back, love you."

"Love you guys, too." And with that, you shut the door.

"That went better than expected." Luke says beside you.

"If your definition of better is disaster. Just promise me one thing, baby?" You looked at him.

"Anything." He hummed.

You looked at him sternly. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid... like ever in front of me, or I will break up with you."

Luke chuckles. "Noted."

[bueckerrss]

the lover - sam golbach

summary𞠬: sam shows you what real love is like.

warnings: cheating, toxic! boyfriend, cursing, mentions of y/n, slightly suggestive (?) lmk if i missed any :)

pairing: x reader (friends to lovers)

tags: @patscorner @bernardsbendystraws @endereies

𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘𖣘

THE DOOR OPENED TO SHOW y/n in tears, mascara running down her face as she looked at sam for a split second before throwing herself into him for a hug.

“y/n? what’s wrong?” he asked as he hugged her back “fucking marcus! he started an argument for no reason today and he said all this horrible things to me, and when i tried to explain myself he didn’t let me speak so i just left i didn’t know where to go and before i knew it i was here”

sam didn’t say anything just listen to what she had to say, comforting her as she ranted, “have you ever thought that maybe he doesn’t deserve you?” he deadpanned “w-what?” she was a little taken aback by sam’s response “yea i mean y/n this is like the fifth time this month that you’ve come crying to me and telling me how much a fucking dick he is! i mean i don’t mind helping you but five times in one month? like that’s absurd!” he said “but he’s all i have..”

“no it’s not, you have me, you have colby, you have y/b/f/n . you’re not alone!” he replied as he got closer to you “if only you could realize that there’s a lot of guys out there who would give you the world if they could but you’re stuck with a piece of shit that probably doesn’t give two fucks about you!” he continued as he grabbed your hand and held your chin to look up at him.

“what are you saying? that you would give me the world?” she questioned as she looked up at him “if you let me i would.” he whispered as he leaned in capturing her lips into a passionate kiss, she hesitated before kissing him back.

he tapped her thighs to indicate for her to jump, not breaking the kiss he lead them to his room. he gently placed her down on the bed, he pulled away looking at her breathing a little heavy “are you sure you want to do this? i won’t push you to do something you don’t want to” he said looking at her for any indication of continuing or stopping.

she didn’t respond but leaned forward to kiss sam again, he ran his tongue across her bottom lip while he ran his fingers across her body memorizing every single detail of her.

she pulled at the hem of his shirt “off” she said before sam pulled away to take his shirt off, y/n following right after sam froze as he looked at her “what?” she asked nervousness slowly creeping up “you’re beautiful” he whispered before leaning in to kiss her again.

she smiled as she pulled him in kissing him harder, sam’s hand atomically going to her hip as the other one traveled to the waistband of her leggings “can i?” he asked looking at her in the eyes “yes” he slowly removed her leggings and panties before pushing he pushed two fingers inside her, making her gasp slightly “is that okay?” he asked looking at her face for any reaction of discomfort “y-yea” she affirmed as he continued to slowly push his fingers in and out of her at a slow punishing pace before speeding up a bit, curling his fingers making her let out a loud moan.

he brought his other hand down and started rubbing tight small circles on her clit another moan escapes her lips as she subconsciously arches her back, she felt the familiar knot forming in her stomach “gonna cum, fuck” she whimpered as the knot snapped and a moan left her throat. sam helped her ride out her high before pulling his fingers out and sucking them clean “you taste exactly how i’d thought” he said before pulling her in for another kiss.

-

it’s been a few weeks since the “incident” but nothing really changed between them, they agreed to never speak about it again or so they thought. sam couldn’t stop thinking about that night and neither could y/n but she swore she “loved” marcus and that her cheating was a mistake to never be made again.

that’s until she slowly started realizing that marcus was getting more and more toxic by the day it was not longer just yelling he started getting more violent. that’s when she realized she needed to put an end to it before it got worse.

“marcus, we need to talk” y/n spoke as she put her fork down and looked straight at marcus “about what?” he spoke clearly not paying attention to her “i think we should break up” she deadpanned looking straight ahead “what? you can’t break up with me” he raised his voice “yea i can you’re not my owner to be telling me what i can and can’t do!” she said raising her voice as well “listen here you little shit” he said getting up from his seat “we’re not breaking up got it?”

“actually we are i don’t care what you say, i want you out of my house by tomorrow morning and when i come back you better not be here or ill call the police.” y/n said as she grabbed her phone and keys and headed out.

-

2 years later

“happy anniversary baby” sam said as he brought in a big bouquet of flowers and gifts “sam! you didn’t have to do this” y/n said as she walked over to him grabbing the flowers. “i know but i have to spoil my lovely girlfriend!”

————————————————————————

a/n: um first time writing slight smut idk how to feel about itttt 😃 and honestly im kinda proud of this just the ending is kinda rushed but i hope you guys liked this :)

[overnightheartbeats]

Seeing his grin amused her immensely. Laurel just felt relief all around, especially when each moment they had spent together felt fleeting, feeling like she could lose it from one moment to the next. Still, even if it turned out to be short-lived, she was willing to enjoy it to the fullest. Each smile, laughter, the way his eyes seemed to pierced her soul - greedily, she craved it all.

She caught that glimpse of surprise in his features, and for a second, she feared she had been too honest. But, the satisfaction that followed was much more familiar to her and Laurel couldn't help the smile full of relief that adorned her lips. "Back at the dock, what a smart ship," she mused out loud, wondering if she could take that to mean that he also had not moved on. Even after all this time. It was a second of mirrored satisfaction, followed by that immense guilt that wouldn't leave her alone. All these years, after ruining his life, and he still hadn't moved on? She couldn't help the pang of guilt that struck her. "I would be pleasantly surprised to find our ship back somewhere on that dock."

Even with the semi-hopeful conversation happening, her situation wasn't lost on her. He may have turned a new leaf and his life may look very different than it had all those years ago, but Laurel knew he was still close to his family, thinking back to his cousin stopping by his place and that dinner he went to with his dad. And on her side? Well, her mom still held some influence in her life - something she'd been unable to kick. Laurel's need for her mother's approval still dictated her life to this day. "Well, I was never really good with small talk," she teased, following his lead and taking another drink from her glass. Though, it was much larger than just a sip. Liquid courage? Maybe. Setting the glass back down on the table, Laurel willed herself to look back up at him, meeting those blue eyes she loved so much. Looking at him once more, she reiterated to herself that, yes she was willing to try again. Go all in for him. If her gaze was not communicating that, then one more sip of her drink, and Laurel was ready to say it out loud. Unable to continue dancing around what she wanted.

"You're glad?" she breathed out in surprise. Her realistic tendencies held her down, though a sliver of hope threatened to take over. "New territory is right, yet it feels very familiar. I just can't pinpoint why." Laurel hung to every word, his smile mesmerizing her like it had so many years ago. It felt like a turning point for them - an adult conversation between two people who hadn't seen each other since their teenage years. It was definitely something. Inevitably, a smile broke out on her lips. Pure joy in her features, and that hope from earlier burst through her chest. "Really?" she said breathlessly, unable to contain herself as she stood up from her chair and closed the distance between them, cupping his face in her hands and pulling him in for a kiss.

A laugh pulled from her lips, shaking her head. "Okay sorry, I got carried away. Yes, me too. Well, I had already said that. But, honestly...no pressure. I'm not expecting us to just immediately go back to what we had. More so, I just wanted you to know that I'm still here and I still...feel things for you. So yes, expecting things from each other, I can work with that. We can just take it slow, right?" She felt like she was reaching rambling territory, her nerves were in full display and leaning on being chill and nonchalant to not completely freak him out. "Don't worry, I won't request any girlfriend titles or anything of the sort."

Pat couldn't help the grin that curled his lips at the way her demeanor lightened when he agreed and assured her he would stay another night. It was impossible not to look forward to another night with Laurel, not to bask in every single moment he could with her. It was impossible not to appreciate the flush that came to her cheeks, just like it used to when they were younger and he would wink at her, although this time it wasn't unaccompanied with a roll of her big beautiful eyes.

The dirty blonde was sure surprise crossed over his features, though it was quickly replaced with a sense of satisfaction and relief. She hadn't moved on? A part of him felt guilty for that, but the other part, the larger part, was glad that was the case, because he certainly hadn't moved on from her. His hand came up to run through his hair as he let out a slow sigh. "I don't know about our ship sailing, maybe its back at the dock or something." he offered with a half-hearted chuckle. Despite the fact that years had passed, they were both still in scarily similar situations to the moment he'd been placed behind bars. He was still dangerously entwined with his family and his father's family business, and Laurel was even closer to the law then ever before. Not to mention, her mother would never come around to the idea of her daughter dating Patrick O'Morhan; especially now that the word felon followed his already tainted last name.

Pat's brows rose slightly at her next words, followed by a soft chuckle when she mentioned how it wasn't good dinner conversation. "Better than pointless small talk I guess." he offered with a shrug before he took another sip from his glass and let his light eyes find her darker ones across the table. What did she mean when she said she wouldn't mind if he expected things from her? Was she willing to try again, even with everything seemingly stacked against them? And how did he even go about asking that?

"I'm glad you asked." he settled on, a slight smile taking his lips. "I know it's kind of new territory for both of us, I mean, I never expected you to even still live here." he admitted with a small shrug. "But I," he paused, swallowing the growing lump in his throat that made itself apparent whenever he was attempting to be vulnerable. "I'm open to..." he paused, unsure how to word it. "Expecting thing from each other." he finished with a half laugh.

[b5withextrachicken]

FALLING IN LOVE? - JAMAL MUSIALA

pairings: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: they were seen kissing at a party but she can't quite remember. now she wants to find out if does.

(i hate this and also english isn't my first language.)

(pictures are not mine)

______________________________________________________

Perfection. Pure perfection. That was probably the only word that could describe his performance today.

My eyes were practically glued to the pitch as my gaze followed his every move. He was at his best today, making his way through the defenders, dribbling out every single one of them. That man was sickeningly good on the field, I had to admit as I watched from the stands. The atmosphere was loud, cheering and addicting. Not where I usually spent a friday night but I could get used to it. Especially when the view was this good.

At a party several weeks ago I had befriended another peer group of athletes, temporarly increasing my number of close friends from 2 to 7. Normal, right? Well, no, because when I woke up with a headache the next morning and checked my way-too-bright phone on the nightstand, it was blown up with messages. Whatsapp, Insta, TikTok... even Facebook. Photos, low-quality videos, theories. There were strangers on the internet speculating about me and a boy. That boy. The boy i later found out was Jamal Musiala. The pictures clearly showed me and him. Way too close. But the worst thing was: I couldn't remember what happened that night.

And that's what brought me here today, to the front row of the Allianz Arena. Because since that night, I couldn't help but wonder if he remembered me or anything that happened. I needed to see him.

The game was heated, the tension could've been cut by a knife. A winner wasn't yet clear when the ball made its way to Jamals feet again. Even from across the pitch I could see his expression fall into concentration as he skillfully turned and sprinted through the opposition towards their goal. It was like the whole stadium went quiet as the fans and rivals realised his chance. He moved to a perfect position to aim. Shot. Scored.

The south curve went wild. Fans spilled their beer. Plastic cups flew. Bayern took the lead in the 87th minute, now so close to a home win. The scorer wearing the number 42 on his back ran over to them to celebrate his goal. He was ecstatic, smiling as he got closer to the barricade.

That's when his gaze met mine.

It was sudden. Fast. But for that minuscule second I could see his eyes light up. A telling spark. Was it recognition? Our momentary connection was severed when his team mates finally caught up to him, engulfing him in a wild hug almost sending the young man to the floor. I smiled, deciding to push the heavy thoughts to the back of my mind for now and embrace the warm atmosphere.

..........

The game was over, proudly ending in a 2:1 for Bayern Munich. The masses hurried to the exits, hoping to avoid the cramped traffic after the win. I lingered around, taking my time to collect my things and also to circumvent the crowded halls of the stadium for a little longer. My mind was racing as the stands cleared out, only leaving trash and spilled beer behind. I was about to sip up my jacket when-

"Y/N?"

I practically whirled around at the sudden voice and my gaze (once again) was met by those chocolate brown eyes that belonged to no other than Jamal. He took a small step back startled by my movement and send me an apologetic look for the scare. Now there was a litte more than an arms-length between us.

"Uh-hey!" I answered nervously, a shaky smile painting my lips. This wasn't at all how I imagined our encounter. My eyes scanned his appearance, he wore a baggy tracksuit jacket over his kit, the grass residues on his shorts still evident from the many fouls he had to endure. He hadn't even made it to the locker room. My gaze lingered on his lips before locking with his eyes again.

His mouth stretched into a sweet smile "Hey..."

Awkward silence. A few beats passed. I looked around nervously, my eyes now darting to anywhere but him. What was I supposed to talk about now? The weather?

Jamal also shuffled around nervously, looking down at his cleats. It was clear we both beat around the bush. He looked back up at me, his gaze resembling that of a deer. "So...Why-I mean, what brought you here, I didn't think I'd see you again..." he asked carefully. A blush tainted my cheeks "Uhm, I just... wanted to see you." I started, embarassed "You know, after the party." pausing for a moment, I thought back to the pictures of us kissing, contemplating if I should ask the question and just get it of my chest. Yeah. Best option.

"Do you remember anything about that night? Like what happened exactly? Did we... do something?"

It tumbled out of my mouth, one ask fused to another. I watched as his posture shifted, his eyes slightly widening. "What? No,no,no." he shook his head. A small wave of relief washed over me but it couldn't tame the burning lack of knowledge about that night. "Then what happened, the only thing I know is that I woke up with a headache.". He took a step back, processing my words before answering. "We had a good night you know, dancing, drinking...kissing. It went well until some drunk incel pushed you and you hit your head on a door frame..." the man paused, anger flashing in his eyes for a second. "He knocked you out. I drove you to the hospital. Your friends picked you up."

My mouth opened to reply, but quickly closed when no good answer formed on my tongue. It wasn't what I expected, but I still didn't know what to think about it.

"You waited at the hospital?" I asked, now completely catching up to what he said.

"Yeah." Jamal looked down to the floor again, hiding the faint red that now tinted his cheeks. "I wanted to ask for your number but... after everything happened I didn't think it was appropriate..." He trailed off.

"Oh-OH..well..." I was taken aback. Caught off-guard. Then I suddenly felt confidence seep through my body.

"You could ask me now."

He looked at me, a beat passed, then his face lit up. He took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me, ready to enter the digits. As I was about to give him the phone back, he cleared his throat.

"Are you free next friday? It's my free day and maybe we could meet up at a café?" He asked, also growing more confident now. I blushed, and nodded, still a little overwhelmed by what just happened. "Yes, yes I'd love to. 5pm? Hopefully this time I'll remember..." I chuckled and Jamal quickly joined in. The situation now blurred into a sweet moment as we stood in the stadium that was completely empty. I smiled as I looked up at him. His eyes drifted to my lips before they met mine again.

"You better stay away from the door frames."

________________________________________________________

my first piece on here, yayyy ig

[purplepixel]

So.

I read issue 44 of idw.

[blindedguilt]

//Was thinking about posting this on my alt, but since I figure I've spoken about this frequently enough on this blog and it's THE dedicated Leonard Space™️... //I'm throwing up and crying thinking about how leonard had never gotten to experience romantic or sexual attraction (or will ever GET to experience those things, unrequited or not) without complete dread and self-blame and guilt and how that must have been growing up with the hope and expectations of "Being in love must be so nice, I hope I'll be able feel that one day" and not ONLY having that hope gradually dwindle as he grew into the "expected marriageable age" watching those around him go on with their lives and attain those things in a way that seems so natural but is so foreign to him and the absolute sadness of the point the notion of "attraction" and "falling in love" turned to complete and abject horror and disgust when he realises that this is what his mind has decided is "Normal" for him, and all possibilities and aspirations he may have had of a child, teen, young adult, etc. up to that point of even the bare minimum is now a complete impossibility. //how it fully sets in he'll never experience love. never find his own family or someone to be interested in and care about in such a way or even feel attraction without that weight attached.... like idc, actual relationships are one thing but if ANYTHING you should at least be able to know the joy of falling in love if even for a SECOND without any strings (Disgust, guilt, self-hate, etc.) attached!!!! guys!!!!!!! //HE'S WAY TOO KIND AND GENTLE AND HANDSOME AND CARING AND HUMBLE AND A GENTLEMAN AND HANDSOME AND HIS VOICE IS WAY TOO SEXY FOR THIS SHIT, HE DOESN'T DESERVE THIS!!!!! LET HIM LOVE!!!!!!! HE'S SHOWN TO HAVE SO MUCH TO GIVE IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS (Parental, familial, just being an empathetic person towards his "enemies" in general) AND YET HE DIES HAVING NEVER KNOWN IT...... WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO HIM........... ouuugughhh.........

[grimandghoulish]

.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Y'know, there's this gripe I've had for years that really frustrates me, and it has to do with Love, Simon and people joking about it and calling it too-pg and designed-for-straight-people and all the like. (A similar thing has happened to Heartstopper, but that's another conversation.)

I saw Love, Simon in theaters when it came out my senior year in high school. I saw it three times, once with my friends/parents on opening night, once with my brother over spring break, and once with my grandparents.

On opening night, the air in the room was electric. It was palpable. Half the heads in there were dyed various colors. Queer kids were holding hands. We were all crying and laughing and cheering as a group. My friends grabbed my hands at the part where Simon was outed and didn't let go until his parents were saying that they accepted him. My friend came out to me as non-binary. Another person in our group admitted that she had feelings for girls. It was incredible. I left shaking. This was the first mainstream queer romance movie that had ever been produced by one of the main five studios, and I know that sounds like another "first queer character from Disney" bit but you have to understand that even in 2018 this was groundbreaking. Getting to have a sweet queer rom-com where the main character was told that he got "to breathe now" after coming out meant so much to me and my friends.

But also, from a designed-for-straight-people POV (which, to be frank, it was written by a bisexual author and directed by a gay man, this was not designed for straight audiences), why is it a bad thing that it appealed to the widest possible audience? That it could make my parents and grandparents see things in a new light? My stepdad wasn't at all interested in rom-coms but he saw it with me because it was something I cared about and he hugged me when we came out of the theater. My very Catholic grandparents watched it with me and though my grandpa said he still didn't quite understand the whole 'gay thing,' all he wanted was for me to be happy and to have a happy ending like Simon did. My Nana actually cried when Simon came out and squeeze my hand when his mother told him he could breathe.

And when Martin blackmailed Simon, my mom, badass ally that she is, literally hissed "Dropkick him. Dropkick him in the balls" leading to multiple queer kids in the audience to laugh or smile. Having my parents there- the only parents, by the way, out of my group of queer and questioning friends- made multiple people realize that supportive adults were out there. That parents like those in Love, Simon do exist in real life.

When people complain about Heartstopper not being realistic or Love, Simon being too cutesy, I remember seeing Love, Simon on opening night. I remember my friend coming out and my stepdad hugging me and my mom defending us through this character. I remember the cheers that went through the audience when Bram and Simon kissed and the chatter in the foyer after the movie was over and the way that this movie made me understand that happy endings do exist.

Queer kids need happy endings. Straight people need entry points to becoming allies. Both of these things can come together in beautiful ways. They can find out about more queer culture later, but for now, let them have this. Let them all have a glimpse at a better, happier world. Let them have queer joy.

[cherienymphe]

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, mentions of prostitution, mentions of infidelity

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

summary: turning your life around is easier said than done when you tempt the very man meant to lead you to salvation.

♱

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned…”

The familiar words tumbled from your lips, and your gaze remained on your lap, eyes following your finger as you traced patterns into the solid black skirt on your frame. It kissed your ankle as you shifted your feet, and the reminder of the long fabric had you swallowing down less than gentle thoughts. You slowly reached up to touch the collar of your shirt, eyes briefly falling closed as you cleared your throat.

You’d spent hours agonizing over how you’d leave the house…

“It has been seven days since my last confession. These are my sins.”

Like clockwork, you listed the time you cursed for some accident or another and the time you took the Lord’s name in vain and the brief impure thought about that attractive man you’d seen in the grocery store. Every week, it was the same. Sins that you yourself would never have considered as such months ago that you were now hyper aware of. They climbed out of your throat seamlessly, remembering every single one until only one was left.

The silence between you and the man just on the other side of that wall stretched—a familiar occurrence—and you took your lip between your teeth. You could taste blood as you worried it, swallowing it down before clearing your throat again. You smoothed your hand over your skirt, and you furiously blinked, struggling to blink away the tears that had started to collect. As you sat in silence, you wondered why you were trying so hard to impress people that had already written you off?

“I’ve had…some hateful thoughts as well.”

You struggled to get the words out, always struck by just how emotional this made you. You looked up towards the ceiling, eyes roaming, and you hadn’t even realized that your breathing had started to pick up until he spoke.

Father Mayhew.

“Take your time,” he gently encouraged. “Speak when you are ready.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words, recalling your first ever confessional and how you’d cried. It was as embarrassing now as it was then, but it was necessary. You were determined to live differently now—to be different, now.

“Although I have abandoned my former life and…occupation…” you thought you heard him shift. “...I feel as if I will never truly be forgiven for it.”

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“...will never be accepted.”

You recalled the eyes that often found their way to you during mass—the judgment, the disdain, the way in which some stared at you as if they didn’t know how to place you. 

Every sunday it was the same. You’d wake up and agonize over how to present yourself in a place as holy as this. You’d fret that this skirt was too short and that dress was too tight. You’d fiddle with your hair for far too long and every lipstick you wiped off would stain your lips a little more than the last. You were constantly at a crossroad, torn between wanting to look nice for church and concerned about looking like…well…a whore.

You struggled to swallow.

“I see the way they look at me,” you eventually whispered, staring at nothing. “I can’t hear what they whisper, but I know it’s about me.”

You touched your throat, hating how tight it felt.

“It’s…discouraging.”

You didn’t want to use that word, but it was the only word that was appropriate. It made you sad, and you often wondered why you kept returning to a place that made you sad. Surely a church wasn’t necessary to ‘find God’...right? You didn’t think so, but you had wanted to start somewhere, and considering that none of your friends even owned a bible, they had been of no help. Stepping foot into a place that had only ever served to be ominous and oppressive in your eyes was the most terrifying thing you’d ever done.

…but then you had laid eyes on Father Mayhew.

He’d been the only one in the church at the time, and you would never forget the curious glint in his dark gaze. You’d had no doubt that he could see you were scared and unsure and in an environment you were wholly unused to. You’d appreciated the gentle way in which he talked to you, guiding you towards a pew in the front as you asked him questions that some people had answers to their entire lives. He hadn’t treated you like you were stupid, but more importantly, he hadn’t treated you like you didn’t belong.

You were willing to bet that he hadn’t even known about you then.

Although, months later, you were willing to bet that he did now…even though you’d never told him.

“Humans are flawed,” his smooth voice reached your ears through the wall. “We all fall short—even the most devout of us—and we find ourselves falling prey to the temptation of judgment…pride…lust…”

You intently listened. After all, he’d never said these words to you before, always giving you some speech about God’s love trumping all.

“I have no doubt that it is trying, but I am sure you will come to give them grace for their sins just as they will give you grace for yours. We are all God’s children striving to lead a life in his image…”

His voice lowered at that, and you frowned slightly, looking towards the wall and thinking to yourself that he almost seemed to be talking to himself now.

“He wants his children to love one another, a feat that is not without difficulty I’m sure you know…” that actually made you hold back a chuckle. “...but God’s love is powerful and he always grants forgiveness to those who genuinely yearn and ask for it.”

At that, you did smile.

You told him that you were truly sorry for your sins, and he told you to say ten Hail Mary’s, and you stepped out of the confessional feeling better than you did thirty minutes ago. You didn’t know how long the feeling would last though, and so you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could, but you knew from experience that was easier said than done.

You touched the crucifix around your neck as you stepped out of your building.

It had once belonged to your mother, and despite how long she’d been gone and how down on your luck you’d been ever since, you could never quite find it in you to pawn it. It was real gold—probably the only real piece of jewelry you ever owned—but you just couldn’t do it, and you supposed that you were never meant to. Despite the many years you’d lived life as the complete opposite of a God fearing woman…it felt right sitting just below your collarbone.

Even if many would not agree.

You were no stranger to several men in this town—and the ones who often passed through on their truck routes—but that had not stopped you from seeking solace and guidance from a place you’d never stepped foot into in your life. You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel…strange to be in the same building as some of the men you’d serviced before, their wives and children at their side as they furiously avoided making eye contact with you. It felt even worse to watch the way the women would congregate together after church, excluding you all the while talking about you.

It felt somewhat pathetic for your only ally in the place to be the priest.

Although you sometimes wondered how true that was these days. You’d never once confessed that you used to be a prostitute—although the kids called it sex work these days—but you weren’t stupid. As godly and devout as they claimed to be, you knew that the church was filled with gossip and there was no telling who’d let it slip to the dark haired man. You knew when he knew though…

…because he looked at you different.

It wasn’t a bad different—thank God for that—but just…different, and while it wasn’t necessarily bad, you still didn’t think you liked it. Confession—being anonymous—never allowed for you to tell him your name, and considering you’d only ever spoken to him once outside of confession months ago, you didn’t know if he ever knew it was you he was talking to. You didn’t know if he knew that the woman he spoke so gently with each week and listened to cry on the other side of some window was the same woman who often shrunk under his heavy gaze as he looked down on his congregation.

You never felt like he was judging you, no, but you also never felt like he was looking at you as he did that first day, a gentle curiosity in his eyes. He wasn’t your friend—far from it in fact—but he felt like the closest thing you had to one in this church, and so you often forced yourself to find excuses for it. He watches you because he wants to make sure you’re settling in okay. He watches you to observe how other members of the church are treating you. He watches you because he’s wondering if you’ll ever come to confession, convincing yourself that he’s never recognized your voice all this time.

That is why he watches you, you told yourself.

No other reason. 

“You always come to pray at least three times a week…”

The familiar voice startled you as you stood, hand lowering as you’d just finished signing the cross. Your hand was still on your chest as you turned to face him, a small smile on your lips as he stood directly in the center of the aisle. You hadn’t even heard him make a single sound, and you wondered how long he’d been standing there.

He slowly returned your smile with one of his own, although it was smaller, and the silent way in which he stared at you reminded you that he’d said something to you. 

“Yes,” you finally said, moving away from the altar. “It helps with…um…really everything.”

He blinked at you, and you noticed that a strand of his hair was threatening to go rogue. He always looked so neat and perfect that it was hard to miss. Father Mayhew was handsome—if anyone had seen enough men to know it was you—but he was handsome in a way that you would categorize as flawless. Divine even. In a way that was untouchable and only meant to be admired in the most innocent of appreciation. 

He slowly nodded at your response, and you didn’t miss the way he studied you—dark eyes drinking you in and taking note of every stylistic choice you’d made today.

“You know, I think I might see your face far more than those who have been coming here for years,” he lightly told you, a slight laugh on his lips.

You laughed with him, only offering him a shrug.

“I’m still new. I’m sure it just seems that way because you aren’t used to seeing me.”

He started to shake his head before you could even finish talking, and you watched him move closer.

“No,” he murmured—so low you almost didn't hear him. “I think you are perhaps my most…devout congregant.”

He touched your crucifix as he said this, dark eyes tracing the shape of it, and he was so close that you could smell his cologne. You blinked at the scent, finding it strange to know that he wore cologne. It shouldn’t be strange, you supposed, but you realized then that you didn’t quite view priests—view him—as human. As normal…

His eyes lifted then to finally connect with yours, and a crooked smile danced along his pink lips.

“It’s admirable,” he whispered. “More of my congregation could stand to follow your lead.”

You couldn’t ignore the way your chest bloomed at those words, almost hating how much validation you wanted from this place. Validation that you were a good person…you weren’t who you used to be…that you were worthy of something more, you didn’t know. It just felt relieving to hear such a compliment from Father Mayhew when no one else in the church would even give you a chance.

“Thank you, Father,” you quietly replied to him. “That means a lot to me.”

You watched him slowly inhale as he dropped his hand, and he seemed even slower to step out of your way. When you walked past him, you could feel his gaze on you—always watching—and you smiled when he called out to you, telling you that he looked forward to seeing you on Sunday.

No one was more sad than you when you had to disappoint him.

An unexpected cold had you bedridden for days, and while you knew that an illness was a perfectly valid excuse to miss church, you couldn’t swallow down the disappointment. You hadn’t missed a single Sunday since you first started going, and you thought to yourself that the first thing you’d do when you returned was explain your absence to Father Mayhew.

You had never anticipated him showing up at your door to get it himself.

No one ever knocked on your door these days, so the sound had taken you by surprise. Your friends—while supportive of the direction your life had taken—didn’t quite understand it and so you didn’t see them as often, and as for anyone else… Well, there wasn’t anyone else who would come knocking on your door. You didn’t do that anymore so no customers were going to be greeting you on the other side with their money in their hand and an eager grin on their lips, and you doubted any of the women in town would want to sit down for a chat anytime soon.

Your shock at Father Mayhew’s presence was all over your face.

“Father,” you stated, the lilt in your voice hinting at your surprise.

He looked just as you were used to seeing him—clerical collar still on, not a hair out of place, and a hint of a smile on those pink lips. You stood there gaping at him for all of five seconds before it struck you how rude you were probably being.

“I…I’m so sorry. Um…come in,” you told him, stepping out of the way and widening the gap in the doorway.

He didn’t respond nor move right away, looking past you into your small house with a look in his gaze that you couldn’t name. If he were anyone else, you might worry that he was judging where you lived. You watched his jaw briefly tighten, a noticeable strain in his face, and it only just occurred to you that maybe this wasn’t appropriate? Although you were positive you’d heard of priests and pastors visiting the sick before, and while you certainly weren’t on your deathbed, you didn’t see why this would be different.

Before you could say another word though, his foot crossed the threshold, and you closed the door behind him.

“I do apologize for the unexpected visit,” he said to you, gazing around before his eyes landed on you again. “...but when I noticed that mass was absent of a face I’d grown to look forward to, I became concerned.”

You couldn’t stop your smile at his words

“Oh,” you softly said. “Well, there’s no need to be concerned. It’s just a small cold that will be gone in a day or two.”

You watched him exhale at that, nodding to himself, and you studied him, surprised to see that he looked genuinely relieved at that.

“I’m glad to hear that’s all it is…”

At that, your brows furrowed, and you watched him slowly walk about your living room.

“I had feared that some of your fellow church goers had scared you off.”

Your lips parted at his words, and he turned and looked at you.

“They often fall into the temptation of judgment, after all…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t know how to react with the knowledge that he knew it was you who came to see him once a week. You’d only spoken to him face to face twice, and you swallowed, looking away.

“I thought it would be a shame if they scared you off,” he confessed, and you noted that he was closer now. “I wondered what I would have to do to convince you to come back. Drag you, perhaps.”

You gave a soft laugh at that, although he didn’t join you, and it awkwardly faded. He stared at you in silence for what felt like a long time, and just when you were considering asking him if he wanted anything to drink, he reached out to touch the crucifix around your neck again.

“So devout,” he quietly said to himself. “It almost makes me ashamed…”

At that, you gave a heavy laugh, wondering how you could ever shame a priest.

“Why?”

“...because I see why they flocked to your door…money in hand.”

His gaze lifted as he said that, and you were still as you both just stared at each other. His words made you blink, and you were suddenly very aware of his hand practically on you. You couldn’t stop the slight frown that fell over your face, and for the first time in months—since you first stepped foot into that church—you felt…wrong.

“I see why their eyes trace every inch of you when you’re not looking…as if to relive the memory of what you felt like—tasted like.”

You finally took a step back, hand coming up to cover your necklace as if protecting it from his touch.

“What memories they must have of you…”

You wrapped your other arm around yourself, mind whirling to reconcile the man before you with the same man who’d always been so welcoming and gentle. Not once did you ever think he judged you for your past, and you supposed that you were right, but not once did you ever think he also might…

You hadn’t done that in over a year, but had it really escaped you so quickly that a seemingly devout man was still…a man?

“Father, I think you should-.”

“I don’t say any of this to offend you,” he interrupted, tilting his head. “I say it because I fight the urge to touch you every time you’re in my presence.”

You moved by him to make your way to the door, but like an ever present shadow you only just noticed, he was close behind.

“You can cover up as much as you’d like—wear skirts down to your ankle and shirts up to your chin…” his hand on the door halted your movements. 

You felt his chest just barely grazing your back, and his lips followed suit, the softness of them brushing against your ear as he spoke. That familiar cologne invaded your senses.

“...but none of it can hide the temptation you pose by merely existing.”

You shrunk away from him at that, tears in your eyes as he verbalized the same fears you had every time you walked into the building. You flinched when his lips touched the back of your neck, heart dropping to your stomach, but you reached for the door handle anyway.

“Father, I’d like you to leave-.”

Your words were cut off by your own sharp scream, taken aback by the feel of his fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your throat. His hand rested on the back of your neck, and you pressed your hand to the door when his lips grazed your cheek.

“They’re all like rabid dogs…just waiting to pounce,” he mused against your skin, sliding between you and the door and forcing you further into your house with every step. “Just waiting for you to give up this charade and go back to taking their money for a quick fuck.”

You blinked, and a few tears escaped.

“...but they don’t know you like I know you.”

He grinned against your cheek, and you winced as he lightly nipped at the skin there.

“They don’t know that you come to church at least thrice a week to light candles and pray…”

You were full on sobbing now, and you could feel the cool metal of his ring against the back of your neck.

“They don’t know that you never miss your weekly confession, telling me every time you so much as say the Lord’s name in vain.”

His free hand was reaching for the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one by one, and you gasped when his fingers finally met skin. He dipped his head, mouth finding the skin of your shoulder and collarbone interesting before his hand searched for your wrist.

“They don’t know that you are the most pious woman to walk through those doors,” he purred, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your wrist. “...and that I just want to ruin you for it.”

When his hand dipped between your legs, you were quick to try and stop him, still wincing at the tight grip on the back of your neck. Father Mayhew made a noise of disapproval, and your hand faltered when he harshly bit your shoulder.

“We are…and always will be…sinners…”

Once his fingers were inside of you, it was like the point of no return. You found it funny that he likened the men in church to that of rabid dogs when he himself was behaving like the very thing he used to insult them. When your knees buckled, he followed—one arm around you and holding you in place while the fingers on his other hand curved into you.

Every thrust of his fingers made you wetter—embarrassingly so—and when he pulled your head back, he forced a kiss onto your lips. He swallowed down your whimpers and noises of protest, a moan escaping him as he tasted the inside of your mouth. With him so close to you, you could feel the muscles and contours of his frame beneath his clothes, and you were forced to recognize your predicament and his strength and what that meant for you.

When you were face to face with him again, his hair was nowhere near as neat as it was when he first walked through your door. His pink lips were swollen and reddened from kissing you and dragging over your skin. Your pajama top had long been discarded, the bottoms long ripped and pulled off of you. Father Mayhew’s—Charlie—clerical collar was long gone, his shirt pulled open and hanging off of him.

You recalled the way your mouth had parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock finally dipped into you, stretching you with every inch and making your heart momentarily stop. His hand covered a breast, the feel of his ring cooling that singular part of your skin, the rest of you so overheated. His other hand was wrapped around your throat, and you clawed at his hand as he fucked you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in your tiny home, the only sound to rival it being his harsh grunts and your strained voice. Any fight that you’d put up had been quickly squashed down, shown in the harshest manner just how strong your priest was. You hated how good it felt, hated that you didn’t want this but was now forced to enjoy it. Nevermind the fact that you hadn’t enjoyed sex for the act itself in years…

…but of all people to find yourself in this predicament with.

Father Mayhew’s hands never stayed in one place for long. He seemed determined to touch every part of you he could get his hands on, lips tasting the saltiness of your skin. Sweat clung to your frame and his, his fingers sliding over you as he kneaded your thighs and your waist and your chest. Every time you reminded yourself how wrong this was, he’d push his cock into you to the hilt, and you’d involuntarily throw your head back.

You could feel your crucifix pressing into your skin, and your eyes watered.

“I must admit that I was—am—jealous,” he dragged out, voice hoarse and throaty and wholly unlike how you were used to hearing him. “Your devotion to God inspires an envy within me that I never knew existed.”

You took note of the scars on his back underneath your fingers.

“...a desire to have you completely devoted to me,” he bit out, covering your lips with his own. “You so desperately desire forgiveness and acceptance…and all the things you didn’t think you were worthy of having.”

He harshly thrust into you, making you gasp.

“...and I can give that to you,” he whispered into the kiss.

The power behind his thrusts had you scratching at both his back and the floor, eyes squeezing shut at the way his fingers dug into your skin. It was like he was both holding you to him and trying to prevent you from ever walking away. Your chest arched up into his as you gasped, choked whimpers climbing out of your throat with every push of his hips. He growled against your skin as his lips traveled to your neck, the sound almost demonic to your ears.

When you came around him—your first orgasm in over a year—you couldn’t swallow down the noise it forced out of you. You could feel blood beneath your nails and a slickness on the inside of your thighs, but all the while Father Mayhew didn’t stop.

With one hand pressed against the floor, he pushed himself up to look down at you. His free hand slid up your sweaty frame, coming up to wrap around the crucifix that rested against your skin. He tightened his hold around it, and he pulled on it, forcing you to lift your head and meet him halfway for a kiss.

“I want you just as eager to get on your knees for me…”

[levenlike11]

his hands come up to your cheeks and hold, looking- rather staring into your soul. you smile and your cheeks in his hands squish up making them look chubbier.

"wanna bite you." he says it still holding instense eye contact. you laugh and a faint smile appears on his face. "i missed you." his head drops on your shoulder and he takes a deep breath of your perfume.

"missed you too." you put your head on his, as if it hasn't only been less than a full day since you last saw each other. he thanks the owners of the place for the dim blue lighting in the dark room as it conceals the blush starting to make itself known on his face.

his hands that are hugging your figure travels down and down until they hit your waist and sneak under your top to caress your soft skin. every inch his fingertips touch burn with excitement and leaves goosebumps on his way.

"missed you so. damn. much." he sighs into your shoulder and places a small kiss on there, slowly moving upwards on your neck. you open yourself to him and throw your head back, enjoying his acts. his hands are softly scratching your back while he keeps kissing and nipping at your skin.

"show me how much you missed me then." you whisper near his ear and peck his lobe, knowing it makes his knees weak every time you do that. his attention is now diverted to your chin, biting it tenderly. "baby-" you whine when he licks the part he bit to soothe the pain he caused.

"my pretty thing. all mine." staring into your eyes again, he touches your nose playfully with his pointer finger. you close your eyes and lean into him, letting your lips touch gently at first. it doesn't take long until he's exploring your mouth feverishly, teeth clattering and tongues brushing against each other with lust.

you push him off of you for a second to take a breath but he chases after your lips and doesn't let you leave. you can taste the drink he previously had on his tongue and it mixes with the minty taste your altoids left in your mouth. he thinks he's found heaven, right here in your arms.

when he eventually pulls back, you can't help but giggle at all the lipstick stains on the lower half of his face. (and trust my word on this one, he wears it proudly until you force him to wash it off- which leads to another make out session, in the bathroom this time.)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

eren, jean, levi (aot) geto, megumi, toji, nanami (jjk) SUNARIN, hinata, iwaizumi, akaashi (hq) reo, chigiri, rin, sae (blue lock) draken, wakasa, mitsuya (tokyorev) giyuu, sanemi (demon slayer) and anyone else you'd like!

all feedback is extremely appreciated, sorry for the inactivity!🥹🫶🏻

[aphelionwrotes11]

MDNI 18+ (not edited)

Part 2

Trucker!simon, who finds himself a lovely bird at a local truck stop he often runs through on his usual routes.

Sits his massive self at the bar on one of the small stools, glaring at any of the blokes who stare at you a bit too long.

Gives you a blank look when you check up on him, asking if he’d like anything else.

“Just anotha’ cuppa, sweet’art” he always says, sliding his mug towards you, which looks microscopic compared to his massive hand.

You think he doesn’t like you, considering he doesn’t ever talk to you much when you try to make small talk, but he always leaves you a fat tip. You figure he’s just quiet. He can’t dislike you that much considering how many times you’ve glanced over your shoulder to see him gazing appreciatively at your ass.

It’s an especially rowdy night at the truck stop that finally breaks the camels back. A real gentleman decided he wanted a feel of you. So he didn’t hesitate to grab a handful of the fat on your backside, his table and him whooping and hollering as you squealed and slapped his hand away, glowering at him as you scampered away to the bar.

You held back tears as you started up another pot of coffee, never were the confrontational type. This wouldn’t be the first time a man had taken it upon himself to put his hands on you, but it would certainly be the last. Considering how Simon was sat at the end of the bar; shaking with rage, his knuckles white from being clenched tight as he stood.

It all happened so quick you didn’t even catch it, you back had been turned. The restaurant went from ruckus, laughter, and loud voices, to silence after the sound of a sickening crack rung through the room.

You turned just in time to see the asshole’s friends jump from their seats and go for your favorite regular; Simon. The handsy asshole laid flat on the ground, out cold.

It took no time at all for Simon to lay out the other three, he was twice each of their size in pure muscle, and obviously lacked nothing in skill. Once he was done he simply turned to you, pointed to the back room and said,

“Go get yer things.”

You didn’t think twice. Passing your manager who stood in the doorway, face solemn. You asked him quickly if it was okay for you to leave, he took one glance at Simon and nodded his head. You grabbed your things, throwing on your coat and met Simon at the door.

He takes your arm, surprisingly gentle for his huge form, he looked enraged. His shoulders tense, brows furrowed, you’re certain if he didn’t have a mask on the lower half of his face he would have a deep frown on his lips.

You thank him softly, following him as he leads you through the full parking lot. He says nothing, staring ahead. You tell him you don’t live far, you can just walk.

“No, you’re not doin tha’.” He says, and you don’t argue.

Helps you into the cab of his massive semi, getting into the drivers side and turning up the heat.

Offers to get you some food, “haven’t seen’ya eat a bite ol night, bird.”

You refuse, thanking him for the offer, telling him you’ll eat at home. You probably won’t, your stomach is still all twisted from earlier, if he can tell you’re shaken up he doesn’t show it. He just nods.

Takes you to the corner of your street, wouldn’t be able to drive his truck down the narrow road. You thank him again, asking him if there’s anything you can do to repay him.

“I know’a few things you can do for me, bird.” He says lowly, you feel your cheeks warm at the implication. You ask him what he wants. He grunts, glancing to the side as if he’s thinking.

“Gimme a kiss.” He says, tapping his cheek. Your eyes widen, is he serious? Out of all things he could ask for, he asks for just a kiss on the cheek? You shocked to realize you’re disappointed he didn’t ask for more.

He pulls his mask down to his chin, revealing his chiseled jaw and thin, scarred lips. You lay a trembling hand on his giant thigh for support as you lean over, and just as you are about to meet his cheek he tilts his head and has your mouth. Pressing a heated kiss to your lips.

It takes you a moment to catch up, but before you know it you’re in his lap, making out sloppily, mouths open and tongues swirling together. You sigh into his mouth, cupping his jaw as his hand cradles the back of your head.

When you start grinding yourself against him is when he stops.

“Not yet, bird. Gotta take you out first, do it the right way.” He says. The right way? What the hell.

“Take ya for dinner, treat ya real good, take ya home and fuck that sweet pussy halfway to heaven.”

He cups your ass as he whispers that nasty shit in your ear, one hand on your hip as he bucks up once against your wet heat. You let out a whimper and he just chuckles. Asshole.

Jumps out the truck and helps you down with two strong hands on your hips. Walks you all the way to your front door, smiling at your peeved expression. You were definitely gonna have to rub one out once you got inside.

Gives you a sweet peck on the cheek, gripping your chin with his thumb and finger.

“Be here tomorrow a’ seven. Wear something nice.” He says softly before turning and stalking off into the night. Leaving you flabbergasted on your front doorstep.

Note: I dunno if you guys can tell but im incapable of writing anything small. This was supposed to be just a short little thing about how sexy trucker!simon would be but i got so carried away 😭 he’s the ghost that haunts my nights, can’t get him outta my head

Simon Riley master list

[sanjisblackasswife]

JJK Men with a GF with a Fat Ass (NSFW-ISH)

…I’m taking a small break from drawing and I missed doing HCs. Shaddap.

Ft. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Choso

Black ! Fem Reader in Mind

CW: Twt Links!, mentions of sex, men are a bit OOC

Gojo

Gojo definitely does this to you anytime you lay on his lap. And if he finds out you’re not wearing any panties under it…welp..all plans are now cancelled

He’s a pervert and it’s your fault.

He’s never really seen women of your stature often so when you both were younger he was so BLUNT with his thoughts about your body.

“You have a very voluptuous—“

“Imma stop you right there….VO-WHO?”

“You don’t know what the word vo—-“

“No, I know. I’m confused as to why you are using that word when talking about my ass.”

Gojo is 6’6-7” , he’s a big nigga, but can he handle a big behind?

No.

No he cannot.

He constantly uses his blindfolded eyes to shamelessly watch the way your walk across the room in public. His poker face is actually impressive, but if you couldn’t see how tight his fist were in his pockets it’d prove otherwise.

He’s so got damn childish he does this shit sometimes because he thinks your ass is perfect for playing on

“CAN YOU STOP.”

“Whhhyyyyuuuhhhhhh.”

When you wear moomoo’s or a big shirt it is his favorite

Yup.

Moomoo.

Your ass is free to move and shake to its desire and he just watches in awe. He loves you bad.

Another thing he loves doing is napping on your butt, he doesn’t sleep often, unfortunately, but he can attest that the best nap he has ever taken was in between your plush thighs and ass.

He blames his pretty little girlfriend as to why he is now an ass man when he initially was a boob guy.

Geto

He takes these kinda pictures with you which sometimes leads to him pulling down your underpants and massaging it with his bare hands to then licking or kissing it to then…eating…you…out…while you’re standing.

He loves watching you put on clothes.

Having to shake, jump, and wiggle yourself into some pants is actually so sexy to him.

If your butt is anything like mine and is HEAVY. He LOVES it even more , watching the way the movement in your butt and thighs to match is something Geto finds so so mesmerizing.

One thing about Geto he’s very sneaky, he’ll come up behind you to help pull up your bottoms you clearly need no help putting on, and everytime he does you can feel a slight pressure on your ass that is a verrrryyy familiar feel to a bulge.

He can’t help it, your ass is so pretty.

Sitting on his lap is a must, whether he is talking with someone in public or doing some work he needs to feel your weight on him.

The first time you sat on his lap you swore you heard a groan. When you turned to ask him if he was okay, his cheeks were very pink.

He denies it to this day, but even if he did it’s your fault because why does your ass feel so good against his pelvis?

Showers with Geto are so insufferable in the best way because once you finish cleaning yourself your long haired boyfriend can’t wait to practically grind and hump against you into the cool shower wall.

He definitely loves hugging you from behind, swaying you back and forth. To others it’s a cute gesture seeing such a big man hold you so close, practically dwarfing you , only you and him know the real intention behind it was just him whispering how good you look in that dress and how badly he wants you.

Geto is such a sensual person next to nanami. Even after sex and you’re laying with him in a bliss he finds his way to continue his love by kissing and licking you down and praises of how beautiful and sexy you are even after such activities. He calls it “Cleaning you up”…little perv.

“‘Was wrong?… Embarrassed?”

“YES.”

“Good, now c’mere.”

Toji

Ass eater.🫵🏾

That’s an ass eater he eat ass🫵🏾.

Toji “Ass Eater” Fushiguro

You thought gojo was shameless? Toji is WORSE

As an ass connoisseur he prides himself on always reminding you how fine you are to him.

“You like my dress?”

“Hell yes, mama. Turn around for me.”

SWAT to the ass just to see it recoil

He definitely slaps and GRABS. It’s kinda hot though because he’ll do it anytime anywhere

For example you went with him to some horse racing game for him to make bets and got hungry so you headed to grab a few drinks and snacks. Before walking past him, his legs were spread, tooth pick in his mouth and just like clock work you feel a firm hit to your Jean covered behind.

“OOWWUH!”

“Sssh, Baby im watchin the game….what? Your ass was all in my face what else could I do?”

Whether you are a chunky girl or a skinny girl with a larger butt he don’t care he quite actually is your biggest fan.

Toji is your new seat btw.

Not just his pretty face but his lap too.

He’s a big strong man so don’t EVER think or assume you’re too heavy for him. It ACTUALLY wounds his ego more than you think.

Of course Toji being the ass eater he is almost every other night is spent just like this or sitting on his face. He never seen himself as a pleasure dom kinda guy. With his one night stands he only had sex for himself, but with you of course being the first woman he finally got to love after MamaGuro he takes his time with you. It’s a slutty sight but he knows it’s exactly what can get you off before him

Nanami

This man here.

A KING.

Freaky king but a king none the less.

He loves every part of you.

Which is what he does say and prove everytime you both are together but he does have a small little quirk about him that you aren’t sure whether or not to point it out in fear he may stop out of embarrassment or awareness.

Most men guide their woman by putting their hand on their lower back

Nanami however does this

ESPECIALLY on date night.

Just like Geto he loves to watch you dress, but also dresses you himself

“Wear this, yes? It compliments your skin beautifully.”

“You sure it’s not, because it’s a bit tighter below the waist?”

And now hes blushing.

He’ll admit. Whenever you come and visit him during lunch to feed him a home cooked meal he hates to see you go but LOVES to watch you leave.

Especially with that sundress you wear during the spring.

Nanami definitely is another man that will practically BEG for you to sit on his face.

“It’s okay, baby, honest. Use my face.”

“Kentoooo—!??”

One of his favorite ways to eat you out is like this. It was actually so embarrassing for you at first only because of his SLUTTY MOANS. Which was something you wouldn’t expect from a man like him, but you wasn’t complaining!He whined and whimpered so shamelessly inside you, you couldn’t even make eyes contact after cumming on his tongue.

Choso

Lord bless him.

He is very….confused to say the least.

He never understood the attraction of women’s parts.

Of course he found YOU attractive, but that was all over until he seen your shape.

“Oh.”

“…oh?”

“You—“

You usually wore baggy clothing like him. You decided to change really quickly at his new apartment and he was watching you.

Who knew you had a BODY LIKE THAT under all of those clothes!

“You’re sex—cute…”

Choso isn’t necessarily a shy man, but more hesitant when it comes to touching and complimenting you…

You’ve told him time and time again he is free to touch you when he wants but you sometimes have to guide him.

Usually when he wants to grab your ass he walks DANGEROUSLY close behind you.

So a few times you take his hand and place it on your cheek. For a moment he just rubs his hand across the soft skin and then SQUEEZE.

Choso loves to kneed and rub on your ass while he licks you so usually it’s 69 or you laid to your side.

Another things he actually loves seeing you in are sweats with a small top. Your lower body being heavier than the top is so attractive and you look so squeezable he can’t help but to hug you from behind

Please. Please PUH LEASE wear thigh high socks around him the ones that go RIGHT UNDER the cup of your ass and shake it JUST A LIL in front of him.

Moans at the sight everytime

No like literally MOANS by just looking at your ass jiggle.

He doesn’t think he’s a pervert but from how he grinds and hump against your ass while you sleep says otherwise.

If yall are wondering why I didn’t really speak on backshots it js because ALL OF THEM GO FERAL DOING IT.

[sttoru]

‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’

☀︎｜tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!

satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.

ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.

though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.

“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”

you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.

“mama, go! mama go papa.”

satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.

your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.

you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.

however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.

“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”

even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.

“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.

satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.

“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”

your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.

you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.

it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.

your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.

“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.

“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”

you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.

“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.

your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.

he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.

“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”

the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.

“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”

you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.

it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.