#but over time they’re like oh…. i feel seen and safe with you and i want to be by your side……. idiot 😠😒 /silly

[jmkjournalblog]

Sweet thing (Part 1)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2000+

Summary:  A new mysterious girl appears in the Westview, capturing Agatha's attention.

A/n: I couldn't forget this plot that came to me after watching AAA so, here we go. Btw English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Agatha Harkness leaned against her kitchen counter, nursing a cup of coffee as the morning sun painted the room in soft, golden hues. The house was quiet, save for the faint buzz of magic beneath her skin. It was always there now, a faint hum that had taken root since Wanda’s Hex wrapped itself around the town of Westview.

Agatha didn’t mind the quiet—she thrived in it. It gave her time to think, to observe, and, most importantly, to plan. The game Wanda was playing fascinated her, the raw chaos magic that maintained this picture-perfect suburban paradise a symphony only she seemed to hear. But Agatha wasn’t content to be a spectator.

Her musings were interrupted by a knock at the door, sharp and deliberate. Agatha frowned, setting down her mug. Few people in Westview came calling without reason. The nosy neighbors usually knocked too loudly, their voices pitched with exaggerated cheer. This knock was… tentative.

Agatha adjusted her cardigan and opened the door, her curiosity immediately piqued by the girl standing on her porch.

She was young, with an almost ethereal quality to her—a soft, doll-like beauty wrapped in a modest sundress and wide-brimmed hat. Her hands were clasped in front of her, clutching a basket of baked goods, and she looked up at Agatha with a shy, hesitant smile.

“Hi,” the girl said, her voice light and airy. “I’m Y/N. Wanda mentioned I should… introduce myself?”

Wanda. Of course.

Agatha smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Well, aren’t you the polite one?” she said, stepping aside to let the girl in. “Come on in, sweetie. Don’t just stand there looking like a lost kitten.”

Y/N giggled softly, the sound almost musical, and stepped inside. She looked around the living room with wide eyes, as though taking in every detail with nervous curiosity. Agatha followed her gaze, watching the way her fingers brushed the edge of a throw pillow, the faint catch in her breath as she noticed the clutter of books and trinkets on the coffee table.

“You’re new in town?” Agatha asked, her voice casual as she gestured for Y/N to sit.

Y/N perched on the edge of the couch, smoothing her dress over her knees. “Oh, yes,” she said quickly. “Very new. Wanda’s been so kind—helping me settle in, introducing me to everyone…”

Her voice trailed off, and she ducked her head, as if embarrassed by her own rambling. Agatha studied her, intrigued by the girl’s bashful demeanor. Wanda had mentioned her in passing—a "sweet little thing who could use a friend." But there was something about Y/N that didn’t quite fit the mold of Wanda’s usual creations.

“Wanda’s good at that,” Agatha said, her tone light. “She loves playing the perfect hostess. But don’t let her fool you—she’s got a bit of a wild side, that one.”

Y/N giggled again, her cheeks turning pink. “I don’t think I’ve seen that side of her yet.”

“Oh, stick around, honey. You will.”

Agatha leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other as she observed the girl with casual interest. There was something almost too perfect about Y/N—the way her smile wavered just enough to seem genuine, the slight tremor in her hands as she picked up the cup of tea Agatha had poured.

“So, what brings you to Westview?” Agatha asked, keeping her tone light.

Y/N hesitated, her gaze dropping to the cup in her hands. “I guess… I wanted a fresh start,” she said softly. “Somewhere quiet, where I could figure things out.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “And you picked Westview? Not exactly the first place people think of when they’re looking for a fresh start.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a shy smile. “Wanda said it was… special. And it is. It feels… safe here.”

Safe. Agatha’s smirk widened, though she quickly hid it behind her cup. If only the girl knew the half of it.

“Well, you’re certainly in good hands with Wanda,” Agatha said, her voice warm and reassuring. “And the neighbors will eat you up. They love a sweet, innocent new face.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced up, her eyes meeting Agatha’s for the briefest moment before darting away again.

The girl’s shyness was endearing, almost painfully so. But Agatha had spent centuries honing her instincts, and something about Y/N didn’t quite add up. She didn’t press, though. Not yet.

Instead, she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she gave Y/N a conspiratorial smile. “Wanda matchmaking again, huh?”

Y/N’s blush deepened, and she shook her head quickly. “Oh, no! It’s not like that. She just thought I could… learn a thing or two from you.”

Agatha chuckled, her sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. “Is that so? Well, I suppose I can be quite the teacher when I want to be.”

Y/N’s laugh was soft, nervous, and she ducked her head again, hiding her face behind the rim of her teacup. Agatha watched her for a moment longer, the faintest prickle of curiosity tugging at her thoughts.

Whatever Y/N’s story was, it wasn’t as simple as she made it seem. But Agatha could wait.

“Welcome to Westview, sweetheart,” she said finally, her tone warm but laced with subtle intent. “Something tells me you’re going to fit in just fine.”

Y/N smiled, her eyes glinting with a fleeting emotion Agatha couldn’t quite place. For now, the girl was an enigma—a puzzle wrapped in sweetness and blushes. But Agatha would figure her out.

Agatha Harkness prided herself on reading people like open books, but Y/N was proving to be an unexpectedly complex chapter. The girl had a way of weaving herself seamlessly into Wanda’s narrative, her every action a perfect blend of naivety and charm. The neighbors adored her, each interaction reinforcing her role as the sweet newcomer.

Agatha wasn’t fooled, not entirely. There was something there, lurking beneath Y/N’s soft demeanor. Something that kept her watching.

The afternoon sun bathed Wanda’s backyard in golden light as she bustled about, her hands full of gardening tools. The scent of freshly clipped grass mingled with the sweet aroma of cookies baking in the oven. Agatha leaned against the fence, watching as Y/N knelt beside Wanda, carefully arranging a row of daisies in the freshly turned soil.

"You’re a natural at this!" Wanda exclaimed, her bright smile aimed at Y/N.

Y/N laughed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Oh, I don’t know about that," she said, her cheeks tinged with pink. "I’m just following your lead."

Agatha arched an eyebrow, sipping from the thermos of tea she’d brought over. The girl’s humility was textbook charming, her every move designed to blend in perfectly with Wanda’s carefully constructed suburban dream.

But there was more to it. Agatha could feel the faintest ripple in the Hex whenever Y/N was near. It wasn’t enough to break Wanda’s illusion, but it was there—a subtle distortion, like a melody slightly out of tune.

"Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N," Agatha called, her voice light and teasing. "You’ve got a knack for fitting right in, don’t you?"

Y/N looked up, her smile shy as she wiped her hands on her apron. "I just want to do my part," she said.

Wanda beamed at her, clearly pleased. "You’re more than doing your part," she said, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. "You’re already a part of this little family."

Agatha’s smirk softened, though her thoughts remained sharp. Wanda’s maternal instincts were in full swing, and Y/N seemed to thrive under her attention. But was it genuine, or was the girl playing her own game?

Later that evening, Agatha found herself on her front porch, nursing a glass of wine as the stars blinked into view. The hum of the Hex was quieter here, its magic settling into a steady rhythm as the town went to sleep.

She was about to head inside when she heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Y/N emerged from the shadows, her arms wrapped around herself as if warding off the chill.

"Agnes?" she called softly, her voice tinged with hesitation.

Agatha straightened, her brows lifting in surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing out here so late?"

Y/N hesitated at the foot of the porch steps, her green eyes wide and uncertain. "I… I didn’t want to bother Wanda," she said. "I just… I couldn’t sleep."

Agatha gestured for her to come closer, her curiosity piqued. "Well, come on up, then. No sense standing out there in the cold."

Y/N climbed the steps, her movements careful and deliberate. She perched on the edge of the porch swing, her fingers twisting in her lap.

"Trouble on your mind, sweetie?" Agatha asked, her tone casual as she leaned back in her chair.

Y/N shrugged, her gaze fixed on the ground. "I don’t know. I guess… it’s just a lot, you know? Starting over, trying to fit in…"

Her voice was soft, almost fragile, and Agatha felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. She studied the girl in the dim light, the faint shadows under her eyes, the tension in her shoulders.

"Fitting in isn’t all it’s cracked up to be," Agatha said finally, her voice tinged with dry humor. "Trust me, I’ve been trying for centuries."

Y/N looked up at her, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You make it look easy."

Agatha chuckled, swirling her wine. "Oh, honey, if only you knew."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, the quiet night wrapping around them like a blanket. Agatha found herself relaxing, the usual edge of her thoughts softening as she watched Y/N.

The girl was good—she had to admit that. Whatever she was hiding, she played the innocent act perfectly. But Agatha wasn’t about to let her guard down. Not yet.

"So," Agatha said, breaking the silence. "What are you really running from, Y/N?"

Y/N blinked, her expression startled. "What do you mean?"

Agatha smirked, leaning forward slightly. "Oh, come on, sweetie. Nobody ends up in a place like Westview without a reason. Fresh start, sure, but fresh starts usually mean there’s something you’re leaving behind."

Y/N hesitated, her fingers tightening in her lap. For a moment, Agatha thought she might deflect, but then the girl sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"I guess… I’ve always been looking for somewhere I belong," she said quietly. "Somewhere I can just… be."

Her voice was so earnest, so raw, that for a moment, Agatha believed her. But there was a flicker of something in Y/N’s eyes—a shadow, fleeting and elusive—that reminded Agatha to stay sharp.

"Well," Agatha said finally, her tone softening. "You’ve got a knack for making people like you. That’s half the battle right there."

Y/N smiled, the tension in her shoulders easing. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha watched her for a moment longer, her thoughts swirling. The girl was a mystery, no doubt about it. But if there was one thing Agatha loved, it was solving puzzles.

"Goodnight, Y/N," she said, standing and draining the last of her wine.

"Goodnight, Agnes," Y/N replied, her smile shy as she rose to leave.

As Agatha watched her disappear into the night, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was standing on the edge of something big. Something dangerous.

[danveration]

Questionable Interests

Parings: Art x Reader

Summary: You fall asleep next to Art while riding the subway, and then he walks you home

Warnings: Mention of blood/killings/serial killers, talk of drunk men, talk of drugs, a mean male subway driver

Word count: 1203

A/N: tehehehehfkbdfk i hope u like ittt🙈🙈 it’s not the besssttt. i did this in one sitting within like 10 minutes HAHHA. i will do better stuff in the near future but Yes!woooo

Art was the talk of the town. “The killer clown is back again!” “Art the serial killer clown was spotted?” “5 killings that all lead to a killer clown. People have seen a black and white clown with blood all over him. They thought it was fake blood but they’re having second thoughts.” Art the clown.

You obviously heard of him. You’ve always had an odd obsession with serial killers and true crime documentaries. It’s a.. passion, some would say. You wondered if Art had any motive, or if he just killed whoever he thought of killing. Did he kill people because they were mean to him? Judging? Or did he just kill anyone, even if they didn’t pay him any mind at all. Did he feel anything when he killed? Did he feel anything at all?

You wished you could see him in real life. What can you say? Your have questionable interests.

You’re currently on the subway, sitting down with your headphones in. You’ve had a long day today. It’s about 8pm and all you want to do is get home and sleep.

The subway isn’t very busy. There’s only about 5 or 6 people on it at the moment. Your mind begins to wonder about random things as your eyes threaten to close. The subway makes a stop, you pay no mind. You’re too out of it to notice who gets on and who sits where. Little did you know, Art stumbles into the subway, bloody and carrying a black bag. Everyone looks scared and soft murmurs begin to start as people look him up and down. He sees you and doesn’t think anything. He see's that you're the only one who doesn't really acknowledges him and so he sits next to you and tosses his black garbage bag on the other seat beside him. You don't hear nor see the worried whispers and worried eyes of the others on the subway.

Your eyes begin to close and your head slowly drops onto Art’s shoulder. Art is taken aback, his eyes go wide for a moment before looking down at you slowly. He stiffens and then goes back to staring in front of him at the empty seat. He doesn’t particularly think anything of it. He just stays still and let’s you rest on him.

10 minutes later, he notices the subway is about to stop at the stop that he plans to get off. Though he doesn’t get off. He just sits there.

After a while, it’s time for subway to “close” aka just stop until the morning. Everyone is off except for you and Art. The driver gets up, and yells, “Hey! It’s time to go, come on. Get up!”

Art stars daggers at the man and just stays sitting down.

The subway driver rolls his eyes and hits the metal pole close to you. “Come on!”

With that, you suddenly wake up and whimper. Looking up to where the sound was made, you come to realization and your eyes go wide. “O-oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. Where are-“

He cuts you off, “You’re at the subway center on Marshall Street.”

Luckily that was not far from where you lived. You could walk, though you’re a bit scared to considering your watch says 2:50am. There are so many weirdos out there at this time. Drunk men stumbling out of bars, drug users, and even murderers! Like Art the clown. But honestly, you’d feel more safe with him than any other man. Which sounds horrible but at least you know he could protect you and he isn’t afraid of killing someone if it came to that. But why on earth would he protect you? He would probably just kill you. You don’t know what morals he has, if any.

You’re about to get up but you realize that you were actually laying your head on something when you were sleeping. There was not a wall next you so..

You turn to where you were sleeping and you notice something black and white out of the corner of your eyes. Looking up, you see..

What? You have to be dreaming.

Art or someone who is dressed as Art is sitting there staring at you with a neutral expression. You just stare with wide eyes as he stares back without blinking. Looking straight at him, you can definitely confirm it's the Art. Blood & all.

“Hey!! I said scram. Both of you!” The subway driver yells and motions for you both to leave.

You go to walk off the subway as Art reaches for his black bag and gets up to following you off, giving the subway driver a nasty look as he walks off.

Once you are off the subway, you look over to Art as he stares down at you. You don’t feel scared, necessarily. He doesn’t look mad or anything. But still, you feel the need to apologize for sleeping on his shoulder.

“H-hey. I’m real sorry about falling asleep on you. It-it’s just been a long day.” You stutter out.

He looks at you and motions for you to walk.

“W-what?” You ask in confusion.

He makes a finger person with his hands and motions them walking.

“Walk? Walk where?”

He attempts to draw a house with his finger and points at you and back at the house.

You take it that he wants you to walk to your house. Does he want to follow you there? You really are starting to feel intuitive with the way you just thought of this not even a little while ago.

“Walk to my house?” You ask him.

He eagerly nods and gives you a thumbs up as he smiles.

Art the killer clown wants to walk you home? You smile to yourself at the situation you’re in right now. Most people would be running away but you’re literally happy right now. You are kind of a fan girl of Art, so it’s crazy that he’s actually here and not.. Killing you. He actually seems sweet. Maybe he does have morals left.

“O-okay.” You say.

You start to walk and he walks beside you, slugging along his black garbage bag. You two walk in silence. You want to ask him questions but you’re not sure if too much at once is a good idea. Maybe asking him questions will set him off in a way, you’re not sure. So you decide to just stay quiet and soak in the moment.

You’re walking on the side of the sidewalk, until you hit a street. Your street. You take a turn and he follows, smiling to himself and looking around to take in the neighbourhood (Totally not to memorize where you live). You walk for a few minutes until you get to your house.

“This is me” You say as you awkwardly chuckle and motion towards your house.

He motions for you to walk up all the way to your door, at which you do. He follows you all the way until you open your door. Then, he waves goodbye with a smile and closes the door for you.

You stand on the other end, in disbelief of what just happened.

[nemmet]

AWAAAAAAAA THIS IS ABSOLUTELY DELIGHTFUL!!!!! TYSM I OWE YOU MY LIFE 🥺🥺🥺🥹🥹🥹🫶🫶🫶🫶

omg hi…… sliding over my stardew farmer to you!! they are a shane kisser (eventually. agonising enemies to friends to lovers arc occurs first)

I LOVEB UR FARMER THEIR HAIR IS SOOOOOOOOO 🥹 smth abt an enemies -> lovers arc is so juicy

[astrotruther]

Astro placements that remind me of the 'archetypes' in Robert Greene's Art of Seduction

The gist of the book is that the author claims there are 9 types of people who attract our fancy, and if you look back upon your past relationships in which you had the hardest time getting over people, you'll find at least one of these archetypes had you in a chokehold. I've noticed certain placements embody these archetypes quite well. So let's get into it!

🧜‍♀️The Siren

Intense, all-consuming, irresistible. This is the kind of person who pulls you in just by existing. Their energy is sensual, they play with desire, and there's no hiding the fire behind their gaze.

Venus in Scorpio or Mars in Scorpio: These folks ooze mystery and magnetism. Venus or Mars here practically commands intense eye contact, a stare that feels like it's looking straight into your soul (and maybe reading all your secrets 👀).

Pluto in the 1st House: They have that come hither aura without even trying. Their presence is just heavy, dark, and intriguing.

Lilith aspects to Venus or Mars: Lilith knows how to channel that raw, primal energy that people can’t look away from.

🕶️The Rake

A flirt and unapologetically so. The Rake is playful, passionate, and knows how to make someone feel like they're the only person in the room. They thrive on thrilling their “prey.”

Mars in Aries: Direct, passionate, no games. Mars in Aries dives right in and doesn’t hold back, which makes people feel desired AF.

Venus in Gemini: Flirty, playful, always has the right words at the right time. They’ve got charm in every text, every look, every smirk.

Eros in the 3rd House: Eros here gets off on mental stimulation, knowing that once they can engage your mind, they can get you anywhere else too.😏

💐The Ideal Lover

Romantic, tender, understanding. They know just what you want and give it to you. There’s an aura of "I was made for you" about them that feels very movie-like.

Venus in Libra: Literally the ultimate lover. They’re charming, attentive, and all about creating harmony in love.

Neptune in the 7th House: They radiate dreamy, fairy-tale love vibes. It's a magnetic quality, and people project all kinds of fantasies onto them.

Psyche in the 1st House or conjunct Venus: Psyche brings an intuitive understanding of what people need emotionally, making them feel deeply seen.

🎭The Dandy

Unpredictable, a little bit of both masculine and feminine energy, and oh-so-daring. The Dandy doesn’t fit into any one box and totally thrives on that.

Uranus in the 1st House: Think uniqueness and uncontainable vibes. They attract attention without even trying and aren’t afraid to stand out.

Venus in Aquarius: Experimental in love, unconventional, and so full of quirks. They might dress edgy, embrace their quirks, and draw people in through pure originality.

Mars in Libra: Balances both masculine and feminine energy perfectly. Their way of pursuing people is soft yet firm, and they’re never boring.

🌱The Natural

Effortlessly cute, innocent, and unassuming. They have this way of making everyone around them feel at ease and seen. They’re playful without trying too hard, which gives a refreshing sense of authenticity.

Moon in Cancer or Venus in Cancer: They radiate warmth and gentleness. People feel safe around them and are easily drawn to their nurturing vibe.

Venus in the 5th House: This Venus placement is playful and creative, attracting people through sheer joyfulness and a love for fun.

Ceres in the 1st or 7th House: Ceres has that caring, supportive energy that makes people feel genuinely seen and loved.

🕸️The Coquette

They play hard to get, with a bit of push-pull energy. They leave people wanting more and keep others on their toes. Coquettes are experts in creating mystery.

Venus in Virgo: They might come off reserved at first, but their attention to detail and small gestures make people feel special.

Moon in Scorpio: They keep their emotions under wraps, drawing others in by only showing glimpses of their deeper self.

Juno in the 12th House: They’re commitment-focused but mysterious about it, leaving people to wonder if they’ll ever fully understand them.

💃The Charmer

Smooth, sociable, a lover of people. Charmers win over others with their adaptability and attentiveness, making everyone feel like they’re the most fascinating person in the room.

Sun in Libra: Naturally sociable and harmonious, they know just how to appeal to people’s desires and make everyone feel at ease.

Mercury in the 7th House: Skilled at reading people and adapting to them. They know how to say the right thing at the right time.

Aphrodite in the 1st or 10th House: Aphrodite brings allure and grace to their public presence. When they walk into a room, people notice; they just want to look, like they’re drawn to a work of art.

🌟The Charismatic and The Star

Radiates confidence and star quality. They draw people in with the sheer force of their presence and charisma. This type doesn't even need to try—they just shine.

Sun in Leo: Confident, warm, and charismatic. Leo Suns love to be adored and know just how to work a crowd.

Jupiter in the 1st House: Jupiter expands their presence, making them seem larger-than-life and totally magnetic.

Pallas in the 5th House: With Pallas here, they’re strategic about how they present themselves, drawing people in with skillful, playful interactions.

✰ That's it folks! I hope you all can find your placements somewhere in there and feel empowered and confident in your charisma.

Help Palestinians:

Ahmed: https://gofund.me/102d1cb3 (vetted by @90-ghost)

Tamer: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help (vetted by @el-shab-hussein)

Heba: https://gofund.me/e6a27592

Howayda: https://gofund.me/4d233342

Aya: https://www.gofundme.com/f/fm8uf-khan-younes

Click daily: https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/

[satorusugurugurl]

Can u pls do jjk men fic w a chubby reader where the boys like her but they think he wouldn’t go for her cuz she’s a lil extra thicc.

(Maybe other jealous ppl tell her that too n make her insecure) and then the boys find out and confess n stuff (and spice too maybe) :3

JJK Men: You’re Beautiful!

Summary: JJK Men react to someone making you feel insecure about your body.

Characters: Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna (Roommate AU), Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Chubby!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: making out, public smexy stuff, dry humping feeling up, body worship, language, fatphobia, body shaming, weight insecurities, Word 

Count: 9K

A/N: Sorry for the lack of content! I wanted to finish this fic, and I have two others that are almost done, but your girl kept passing out in the middle of editing this! I hope you enjoy it!!

Choso Kamo: 

“Snacks?”

“Check.”

“Water?”

“Check!”

“Picnic blanket?”

There was a pause on the other line of the phone. “Shit!” Choso yelled as you watched him turn back towards his house. “I knew I was forgetting something.” You bit down on your lip, kicking your feet as he turned his pretty eyes on you. The second your eyes made contact, you felt your cheeks flush as he smiled softly.

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze as he turned and went back inside his apartment. You fell harder for your best friend when he smiled at you like that. The man you sat next to in art class who was quiet and kept to himself. Sitting there despite your friend's pleas for you not to had been the best decision of your entire life. Choso was amazing! He was sweet and talented, and he had a huge heart. 

He loved his brothers and took amazing care of them, and God, he was so sweet. Plus, he was like the hottest guy you’d ever seen. God, you had it down for him, but you didn't dare tell him how you felt—not yet.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Choso said as he walked to his car.

“N-Nothing!”

“There is because you haven't shown me your outfit.” 

You perked up, grinning as you propped the phone on your vanity, standing far enough to show Choso your outfit. “I'm wearing a crop top and shorts!” you grinned, twirling around, showing off your thick, curvy body that you loved. What do you think?” When you glanced at the phone, you nearly tripped as you saw Choso smiling dreamily at you, his chin resting on his steering wheel as he stared.

“You look cute.” He said in an almost hushed tone that had your heart racing. “Alright, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sounds good. Please be safe while driving over here.”

“I always am.”

The second line disconnected, and you shoved your face into the corner and kicked your feet. He was so cute, and he said you were adorable! This was the best day ever, and he hadn’t even picked you up yet. Your eagerness had you rushing out of your room into the living room, where you found your roommate sitting. She was watching television, and as soon as she heard your entrance, she glanced up, eyes wide as she did a double takeover of your outfit. 

You looked smoking hot. Your boobs were perfectly fitted in the tight crop top. At the same time, the curve of your ass would have men howling at it like those old-timey cartoons. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your light makeup was done. You were a stunning sight. But it wasn’t just your beauty that had your roommate seething with jealousy. It was your confidence and your giddy attitude over the fact that Choso Kamo was taking you out.

“Where are you off to?”

“Oh, Choso is taking me to the park! They’re having a movie night there, so we got tons of snacks, and we’re just going to watch a movie and talk under the stars.” The dreamily lovey-dovey look in your eyes made you already jealous of your roommate. 

“You're going out like that?” 

Her words had you stopping in your tracks as you glanced down at yourself. “Yeah—? Why do I have a hole in my pants or something?” You glance back at your pants.

“No, it's just—you’re going to be wearing a crop top in public with Choso?” 

“I always wear crop tops.” 

Your roommate could see the hesitation in your eyes at her words. “Yeah, but that’s normally when we’re with our other friends. You know friends who are thick like you. You’ll be sitting on a blanket next to Choso, who looks like an artisan carved him out of marble.” You swallowed, poking at your cute tummy. “I just wouldn't want you to be embarrassed; you are a little extra thick.” She stood up, carrying her past you and moving towards the kitchen. “You aren’t trying to impress him by wearing something like that, right?”

You had been trying to impress him. You picked out your cutest and the shorts that looked great on you. This was the outfit you always wore when you needed a confidence boost.

“Oh—you were trying to impress him, weren’t you?” You swallowed hard at your suddenly dry throat. “Oh honey, you’re too thick for him. Could you imagine being on top of him?” She shook her head as she threw her bowl in the sink. “If you want to impress him, maybe pick up on my workout regiment?” 

Her words left you feeling stunned as you scoffed. “That was fucking rude.” You snapped, eyebrows throwing together as you glared. “Choso said my outfit looked cute. And you might be insecure with your body, but I love mine.” Your roommate rolled her eyes as she grabbed her keys off the counter, heading for the door. 

“Cute as in a sisterly way, probably.” 

As the door to your shared department behind her, you resisted the urge to throw her mother’s face at the door. Ever since you and Choso had grown closer together, your roommate, who was a friendly acquaintance, had turned into a mythic bitch. She was constantly jabbing you about your weight and what you wore. It might be time for you to start looking for a new roommate or somewhere else to live. She had just to be jealous, which shouldn’t affect you.

But it did.

As you glanced at the mirror, you suddenly felt overly exposed. She was right; Choso had a nice build, and you were curvy and thick. Those toxic, cruel words had you reaching into the closet, slipping on a hoodie over your shorts before you headed downstairs to wait for Choso to arrive.

The second he pulled up in front of your dorm, the passenger-side window rolled down. “Hey cutie, ready fo—” Choso frowned eyeing the hoodie as you got in the front seat. “Uhm, what happened to the crop top and shorts?” He prodded as he pulled onto the main road, heading for the park.

“Uhm—I got cold.”

“It’s eighty degrees.”

“Yeah? So?”

Choso sighed, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he focused on the road. “You know I hate it when you lie to me.” That stung like a lash from a whip. 

“I’m not lying.” You sighed out, tilting your head back.

“Ha, you honestly think I’m buying that? I know you. And I know when you’re cold because you’re normally on top of me, trying to steal my body heat. So you aren’t cold.” It was almost annoying that he knew you so well. But at the same time, you were thankful that he did. Slowly turning your head, you could see him glancing at you every few seconds while he maintained a vigilant gaze on the road. “So, are you going to come up with another shitty lie? Or are you gonna tell me why you’re wearing a hoodie over the outfit you were so excited to show me.” 

You groaned, scrubbing your hands down your face before turning in your seat. “Has anyone told you that it’s annoying how observant you are?” The remark only had your crush smiling. “Fine, fine, uhm—” you rubbed your neck, “my roommate made some pretty nasty comments, so I wasn’t feeling as confident in it.” 

Anger tagged at the features of Choso’s face. “What?!” He snapped, turning his gaze back on you. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty shocking, to say the least. She said lots of stuff. Mostly along the lines that I was too thick to be wearing what I was.” Those words rang in your ears. “She asked if I was trying to impress you, and when I said I was, she said I was too thick for you. And I snapped back, telling her you said my outfit was cute.” The blinker clicked several times. It chose to pull off the main road and down a dark alley. “And then she said that it was most likely in a brotherly way. Which I knew it was bullshit because we’re friends and you were just hyping me up.”

“No, " the car stopped completely. You’re both wrong.”

When you turned your attention back on Choso, he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I-I was wrong?” you squeaked as he learned over the console. His thick, long fingers grabbed both sides of your face. 

“Yeah, I meant it in an I have the biggest fucking crush on you, and I want to kiss the hell out of you kind of way.” 

You breathed heavily as he brushed his nose against yours, closing the distance between you. “W-What a coincidence, I have the biggest crush on you too.” He hummed stray dark strands of hair, tickling your cheek. “A-And I would love to kiss you.” You were suddenly yanked forward, Choso’s lips on yours as he kissed you like you had never been kissed before. 

You melted, and the sweet taste of mint flooded your mouth as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip. With a soft moan, you opened your mouth for him, shaking as his hands reached around you, grabbing the back of your head, forcing your lips harder against his as he deepened the kiss. His tongue moved feverishly against yours as he pulled you tight against his chest. 

“M-mm!” You moaned, digging your fingers into his shirt, reciprocating the want that he had shown you.

Choso broke the kiss, first panting heavily as he glared at your hoodie as if it had insulted one of his brothers. “Take this off; I wanna see your body.” He growled, grabbing the fabric shielding you from his gaze, tugging it over your head, and throwing it somewhere in the backseat. “Oooh fuck.” He whispered, hands gliding over your shoulder, saying he took in an eye full of your beauty. “You’re so pretty.” His eyes slowly met yours as he yanked you over the console. 

“W-Wait!” You yelped out, your roommate's words hitting you at a terrible time. “Hold on!”

“My windows are tinted. It’s fine.”

“That’s not it! I don’t want to crush you.” 

“Honey,” you squeaked out another gasp as Choso bull-yanked you over the console of the car, flopping you down on his lap. “You aren’t going to crush me. Fuck.” He groaned as he laid the seat back. “Fuccck, you’re so pretty.” He whispered, running his hands over your beautiful curves, fingers gently caressing the stretch marks on your sides. “You have no idea how much I wanted this. To have you in my arms, kissing you, worshiping your beautiful body.” 

You moaned, shaking slightly as you pressed his face and your breasts, kissing and nipping out your cleavage. “F-Fuck—” Shivers ran down your spine, and goosebumps littered your arms; your best friend continued to run his hands up and down your body, taking you in like this was the first time he saw you.

“You’re a masterpiece.” His hands grow up your ass, squeezing it. “I can’t believe I can finally admire your beauty up close and personal and not from afar anymore.” Choso ran his tongue over your breasts while his hands moved your hips, encouraging you to rock against him.

“C-Choso~ g-god me too; I‘ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Then have me.”

 

Your hips automatically began rocking against the hardening bulge in his jeans, drawing out soft moans from the both of you. Each roll of your jean-clad shorts against him was like electricity, like fireworks going off at a summer festival. It was exciting and new, and each move was more exciting than the first, as you were both bound by rhythm, and that was perfect in no time. Choso’s fingers dug into your hips as your lips found his neck, nipping and sucking at his sensitive skin, growing out the prettiest sounds from him. 

This felt like a dream, a dream that you had had many times. But the smell of spice and pine let you know that this was not a dream. It was reality, and it was a reality where your best friend was moaning underneath, you bucking his hips up against your core as you relentlessly ground down on him.

“Nngh~ fuck, that feels so good.” 

“C-Cho, fuck you’re so hard.”

He laughed, and it was smooth and rich, like dark chocolate. “I’m always hard around you.” He admitted, his hands leaving your hips, slowly slipping under your shirt to grope and tease your breasts. “I like you so much. I liked you before you even sat next to me in class, f-fuck!” Choso cried out, throwing his head back as you sucked on his skin, leaving marks everyone would be able to see.

“Yeah~?”

“Fuck y-yeah, haaah,” you watched an ecstasy as his eyes rolled back into his. “I-I was working u-up the courage to talk t-to nngh!” A loud moan broke through his words as you rolled your hips in a circle over his hard cock. “Oooh, holy fuck—it’s hard to talk when you’re doing that.” 

“Ooh, I’m sorry, honey.” You weren’t sorry in the slightest. “You can continue.”

Choso sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth. “I-I was working up the courage to talk to you, but you beat me.” He spat out before his voice broke as you rolled your hips faster against that hard bulge in his. “Fuck—c-confessions later, it’s hard to be serious when I’m trying not to cum in my pants.” Knowing that you already had them on the edge only encouraged your momentum.

“Ooh~ what stopping you from doing that?

“Heh, I don’t want to make a mess inside of my pants like a teenager again.” You rocked harder against him. “Fuck, but you seem determined.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about messing up your pants; you could mess up my mouth instead.” 

The confidence, the tone of your voice, and the friction were Choso’s downfall.

You felt him twitching his pants before bucking up relentlessly against you. And in that moment, you had never been more thankful than inseams and jeans. That perfect scene rubbed right against you in quite the ideal way, drawing shattering cries from you as you forward onto Choso’s chest and coming inside your panties, right along with him. The waves of pleasure left you twitching as your heart thundered in your ears.

After a few minutes of lying in the afterglow, you pulled away to look down at the man underneath you. He looked as dazed as you felt. His cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink, and his fingers ran lazily up and down your back. Choso looked like every dream he’d ever dreamt had just come true. It was a blissful expression, one that you fairly certainly mirrored.

“I should’ve told you a long time ago, I felt. And I’m sorry my confession came out under such shitty circumstances.” Choso whispered as he sat slightly, peppering your shoulders with kisses.

“I could’ve easily confessed to you, too; I was just nervous.”

“We both were.” He corrected, wrapping his arms around you. “But I want you to know I meant every word I said. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and my best friend.”

You take your bottom lip between teeth and smile shyly down at him. “You’re my best friend to Cho, and thank you for liking me for me.” He hummed, slapping your ass and drawing out a squeak from you.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way. And as much as I would love to keep you on my lap, I think we need to make a pit stop at my apartment before we go to the park. I need to change my pants.”

“Oor~ we could have a movie night in your bedroom? With no clothes on. Because believe it or not, leaving naked underneath, you would be a lot more cuter than this outfit when you agree.” 

Choso turned red, not saying a word at first before his hands massaged your ass. “Get this sweet succulent in the passenger seat right now. We’re going back to my place.” And you were right; your crop top looked much better on his floor next to his clothes.

Ryomen Sukuna:

Gojo always found an excuse to go party at his luxurious house. His excuse this week was to celebrate his new puppy. It was an excuse everyone would gladly use to spend an evening dancing, drinking, and smoking. You and your roommate Sukuna were two of those people.

“Did You seriously bring a fucking gift for the dog?” your crimson-eye roommates snapped as he opened the door to Gojo’s house for you.

“For starters, her name is Kiki, and secondly, yes, I did.” you turn to look up at your towering roommate. His face tattoo is even visible in the low lights on the porch. “You drop the beer. I brought the gift. That’s what makes us a great team.”

Sukuna looked away; annoyance etched into his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, teammates.” he smacked your ass with the six-pack he was carrying, pushing you through the threshold. “Go on, teammate, get that ass of yours inside.” you barked out inside the crowded house and searched for your mutual friends. “Oi, I’m going to drop this off in the kitchen, okay?”

“Okay!” you yelled over the blaring music before venturing into the living room.

You spotted Satoru on the couch with a husky puppy sitting on his lap. Bright blue eyes met you as you approached. “Stop!” Gojo nudged a smoking Suguru, who choked on his hit. “Who the fuck is this sexy bitch?” Kiki barked almost in agreement as you grinned, handing the tug-of-war toy to Kiki, who sniffed it hesitantly before chewing on it approvingly. “Seriously, you look so hot. Did you get all dolled up for your asshole roommate?”

“No, I just felt like dressing up a little.” Dressing in a short red and black plaid skirt and a tight red T-shirt with something you rarely did. You weren’t exactly thin. Your butt was too big, your thighs pressed together when you walked, and your tummy was soft. You loved your body, all the dimples and stretch marks that came along with your curvy figure, but mostly showed off around the apartment wearing a tank top and dolphin shorts. You often wear leggings and an oversized jacket when you are out and about, but tonight was different.

Sukuna had been the one encouraging you to dress up, telling you to live a little and wear what you wanted. Initially, You hesitated, but you decided that maybe he was right. Life was too short to suffer inside of a hoodie!

“You look hot.” Geto chimed in, taking another hit from a blunt. “You should dress like that more often; I can feel the confidence radiating off you.”

“That's what I keep telling her.”

You smiled as your roommate came up behind you, draping his arm over your shoulders. “Maybe now you’ll believe me.”

“I don’t know, Sukuna; you should see how some of these guys look at her.” Gojo shifted Kiki to his other arm. “You might be going home alone tonight.”

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo.”

“I’m just speaking the truth!” Satoru shrugged the shoulder, pushing himself up. “Better act before someone else does.” Your roommate growled to ignore. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to take Kiki outside for potty training.

Before your friend could even step away, Shoko and Utahime hurriedly stepped in front of him. “Gojo, some delivery person is here with a three-tier cake, and he won’t bring it in until you sign for it.” A three-tier cake for a dog party?

Gojo looked between Shoko and his pretty husky. “Fuck, okay, let me put Kiki ou—” You stepped in, holding your arms out.

“I can take her out for you. I know how important potty training is for puppies.”

“Really, oh my God, thank you.” He pressed to kiss on top of Kiki’s head before handing her over to you. “Be good for your auntie. I’ll be back!” 

“Hey, do you need me to come with you?” Sukuna asked as he nursed a beer.

“No, we’re all good!” Kiki probably turned you, licking your chin as you carried her to the backyard, replacing her down on the grass. “Good girl Kiki go potty, sweetie.” you praised her, the grass following her further out into the yard. “You’re such a pretty girl—”

“Did you see Sukuna’s roommate?” a voice called out from the back porch, and the door opened and closed.

“Who didn’t?” a man chimed in with a laugh. “You could spot that girl out in a heartbeat.”

“No shit! She’s a sore thumb compared to Sukuna! I honestly feel bad for him.”

Your stomach soured as you stayed out of sight of their cruel words. “Seriously, she should think before she dresses like that and when she’s around Sukuna on top of it! I would’ve been so embarrassed being seen with her in that skirt.” 

Their choir of laughter had you sinking onto the grass. You thought your outfit looked good. Gojo, Geto, and Sukuna thought so, too, but maybe they were just being nice because they were your friends. These assholes had a point. Your roommate was so handsome, and you weren’t feeling the prettiest.

As Kiki sniffed the grass mindlessly before the door opened again. The assholes on the porch suddenly grew as you followed their gaze to Sukuna, who was looking around. They said nothing as he huffed out and sighed in annoyance.

“Have you guys seen my roommate?”

“No—I’m sure we would remember if we saw ‘her.’” one of the girls snickered, making you sink further onto the ground. Was this the part where your roommate joined in with their teasing? Making comments about your outfit? Being honest about what he thought.

You shut your eyes tight as you braced yourself for the truth. “What the fuck do you mean by that? Why are you laughing?” you perked up to look at a very pissed-off Sukuna.

“Well, let’s be honest, man, with her thighs, she shouldn’t be—”

The last words didn’t even get a chance to leave his mouth as Sukuna grabbed the asshole by the front of his shirt. “ I would think very carefully before the next words leave your fucking mouth.” you watched your roommate slam this dick against the wall of the porch. “That’s my girl you’re talking about.” his girl? Your cheeks flushed as you watched color leave the man's face.

“I-I’m sorry, man, I didn’t know!”

“Yeah? Well, now you do. Get the fuck out of my sight before I decide you’re not worthy of being in the same vicinity as me.” 

The instant the assholes left, running inside with their tails between their legs, you picked yourself up off the grass, shuffling forward. Sukuna’s head lifted as he listened to your footsteps, turning his head and listening to you approaching him from behind. He scoffed, turning on his heel, leaning over the railing, and glancing at you.

“I’m going to take a while, guess, and say you heard everything those fuckers said.”

“Yep.” 

“You know they’re full of shit, right?” You hummed, putting your hands behind your back because you stood below him, looking up at the porch. “I’m serious; they’re nothing but jealous pieces of shit. You’re beautiful.”

“And I'm also apparently your girl, too.” 

Shock didn’t cross his features; his fingers curled in slightly as he kept his transfixed on you. “Yeah, I want you to be my girl. I'm tired of being this teammate to you. And I honestly don’t know how clear I can be about how I feel about you.” Now that he was being so blatant with his words, you were finally starting to see what he was talking about.

All the late-night cuddle sessions, the lingering touches on your hips when he passed you, how he looked at you sometimes. Your roommate had been flirting with you this whole time, and you hadn’t realized it until he called you his girl. It was almost embarrassing to be so blind to his advances, but there was a time to be embarrassed about that later. Right now, you wanted to focus on the words he had just said.

“Why?” 

Sukuna shows no signs of confusion or fear. His face remains blank, like an empty canvas. “Why what?”

“Why would you even want me to be your girl? I mean, look at me.”

“I am.” 

You flushed as you bore into his eyes. “Okay, and you see me, right? You heard that asshole say, I shouldn’t be wearing skirts; I stick out like a sore thumb compared to you. People, apparently, think I’m not good enough.” A shadow flashed across your face as your roommate leaked over the edge of the porch, landing on the grass in front of you.

“Ive wanted you from the second you walked into our apartment.” Sukuna grabs both your wrists, gently holding them in his hands. “Im so fucking attracted to you. You have the perfect fucking body. I want you. I would not be able to keep my hands off of you if you even gave me a chance to touch you.”

“K-Kuna—” You gasped as his arms sneaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “I-I— are you sure?”

Instead of responding to your question, Sukuna leaned forward, pressing his lips against the drawers in a kiss that could stop time itself. The lingering taste of alcohol made your head spin as he backed you up against the pool house, pressing you firmly against it, one hand gripping the side of your face while the other slammed against the door.

His lips moved feverishly against yours, and your wall slowly began to come down around him. You found yourself no longer hesitating as you remembered his words and how passionately he had spoken of you. Your hands, which had limply stayed by your side, lifted up, and your fingers ran through his hair. You pulled him more tightly against your chest. And it was an action that your roommate absolutely loved.

Feeling you getting into the kiss into the passion that he had felt for you for so long, made Sukuna snarl as he gripped your hips, lifting you up as he searched for the handle to the door of the poolnhouse. He was going to take you in there and take his time to show you just exactly how much you meant to him. And how much he wanted you.

But finding the handle turned out to be a lot more difficult when his lips were on yours. “Where the fuck is the stupid handle?” Sukuna growled out, pulling away from your lips for a second before slamming them back against you, stepping back an inch in search of the handle from a different angle. 

“I think it’s the left.” You out in between breaths of air before your lips connected with him again. But as your roommate searched for the handle, he found himself drifting along the side of the house, which had been a mistake.

It was a mistake on both of your parts. When Sukuna went to put his hand down on the wall, he came into contact with nothing. He had unknowingly reached the edge of the pool house and found himself tumbling forward with you wrapped in his arms. You let out a scream of shock as water engulfed you, and you both fell into Gojo’s pool. But this slight hiccup didn’t stop you—notin the slightest.

The instant you broke through the surface of the water, both of you blindly searched for each other. When you felt his body heat, you threw your arms around your roommate's neck, holding him close as you wrapped your legs around his waist. This allowed him to freely carry you towards the back of the pool, where he slammed you against the cool pebble tech wall. 

“Sorry about your outfit,” Sukuna growled as he pulled back just enough to allow him to pull your shirt up and throw it over your head on the patio.

 

“Does it look like I give a fuck about my outfit right now?” You asked, grabbing a hold of his shirt, tugging it up and over your head, tossing it into the water, allowing it to float somewhere off in the pool.

“No, I honestly don’t think you give a fuck about it.”

“Then why are we still talking about it?” 

Sukuna smirked, licking his lips slowly. “Alright, I hear ya’ I guess I’ll go ahead and let my lips do the talking.”

While you both made out in the back of the pool, Gojo stepped outside, looking around for you as he picked Kiki up off the ground. “Hey~? You good? Please tell me you didn’t fall in my pool and drowned.” He was starting to step forward when the unstable sound of splashing water, followed by a string of moans, stopped him in his tracks.

Kiki yelped happily as Gojo snickered, heading into the pool house, grabbing a couple of fresh towels, and setting them on the pool deck near the steps. “Well~ it looks like he took my advice and finally stepped up and took some action,” Gojo told his pretty dog as he headed back into the house, dimming the lights around the pool, making your steamy session just a bit more romantic.

Nanami Kento:

“So it’s a date?” Shoko asked, watching you Finish applying some very light makeup to your face.

“It is not a date. Nanami Just happened to have an extra ticket to my favorite musical. We’re friends, and there’s nothing more than that.”

“Oh, he just happened to have an extra ticket to your favorite musical. But he’s also taking you to a fancy restaurant beforehand?”

 

“It’s one of his favorite restaurants, and he wanted to take me there.”

Shoko blew smoke from the window to your balcony, shaking her head. “Boy, I bet you’re in for the surprise of a lifetime tonight.” You shot your best friend an annoyed glance in the mirror.

“We’re just friends—” Even though you wanted to be more than friends with the handsome, sweet, caring blonde you had fallen head over heels for. “so drop it.”

“Nah, I don’t think I will.” Shoko put her cigarette out in the ashtray you had for her. “I cannot let you go on your date like—this.” She grimaced, eyeing your dress suit that skillfully hid your curves and thick thighs from the world.

You pouted, smoothing out the long skirt that went past your knees. “What’s wrong with it?” 

“What isn't wrong with it? You look like a mother at her daughter's wedding. Or an elderly college professor. Or you look like you’re about to go in for a job interview, trying to make yourself look more professional than you are.” 

Each very accurate comparison felt like a stab to your back. “Damn! Tell me how you feel. Sho, fuck.” She opened her mouth, and you quickly raised your hand, silencing her. “Wait, no, please don't,” Shoko smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, what do you suggest I do?” Shoko, head to your closet, opening the door wide.

“The red one.” 

Nanami arrived at your door right on time. He took a deep breath, adjusting his burgundy tie, before knocking on the door. Tonight was the night he was going to confess how he felt, how he wanted to be more than friends. His nerves were strong as iron as he focused on the door. There was nothing in the world that would stop him.

Your door opened, and Nanami swore he felt like you had personally punched him in the gut. You looked stunning. The tight red fabric clung to your waist showing over your unique curves; his eyes trailed lower, and god, the dress's sides were slit open, allowing him to get a peek at your succulent thick thighs. You had never dressed like this around him before; by god, you were like a masterpiece right off a canvas.

“Kento, are you okay?” His eyes glued on you and you alone, leaving you slightly flushed. 

Your best friend shook his head, blinking before his gaze met you. “Oh, uhm, yes, yes, I am.” He did another quick glance over you. “I’m sorry, I just, I’ve never—” His eyes were glued on the slit in the dress. His expression was almost unreadable, making you feel like shrinking in on yourself. 

This was the first time you’d ever worn anything this revealing around him. Usually, you wore loose-fitting clothes, so wearing a form-fitting gown was different. Something that had rendered him speechless. Which could be a good thing or a bad thing. That was something you didn’t care to find out about.

“Different,” you answered for him instead, gripping your clutch as you stepped out. “So, uhm, should we get going?”

“Of course.” 

That initial interaction had set the tone for your entire evening. The drive to the delicious restaurant was quiet with stolen glances. Ones solely focused on your hips and your thighs. You had hoped maybe things would settle down once you sat down to eat at the restaurant. But things only seem to progress into something more. Nanami’s eyes seemed to linger on other patrons at the restaurant who passed you by.

Maybe wearing this dress was a mistake. You felt exposed to your best friend in the entire world and anyone that passed by. You tried to focus on what Shoko had told you to envision when she pulled the dress from the back of your closet. 

‘You’re a badass sexy bitch, own it!’

Yeah, owning it wasn't something you’d ever been comfortable doing. You had been a little thicker than others the entirety of your life. Dealing with that, being called names has taught you how to conceal yourself. If you wore all black and hid your supposed flaws behind layers of clothes, you would worry about anyone staring at you, which is exactly what everyone was doing.

Having people glance you over made your stomach sour as you tried to enjoy your food. You wanted to play it cool and make it look like nothing was wrong, but your attempts didn't go unnoticed. Nanami could see how you shifted; a visible unease etched into your pretty features.

That unease had you hugging yourself as you walked to the theater. You had hardly said a word to each other, and the tension felt thick. While you felt uncomfortable showing off so much, Nanami was beginning to think maybe you weren't having a good time. That's the last thing he wanted, so as you climbed the stairs heading toward your seats, Nanami stopped, tasting at your back. 

Noticing he was no longer behind you, you stopped turning to look back at him. “Kento? Everything okay?” You tilted your head to the side, watching him look you up and down.

“No, l.” he quickly closed the small distance between you, gently grabbing your wrist and walking you to an empty part of the theater where no one was. “Everything isn't okay.” You opened your mouth to ask why he felt that way, but he beat you to it. “I'm sorry if asking you on this date has made things uncomfortable or weird for you.”

Date? 

Wait, Shoko was right?! This really was a date?! Electricity shot went down your spine as your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. No words came to you as Nanami sighed shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away.

“I’m sorry; I don't want you to feel as though you have to do this to appease me. We can see the show as friends and act like this nev—”

“No!” You yelled out, grabbing his hand and holding it. “No! I want this to be a date! I-I thought we were—going as friends.”

Nanami’s face relaxed as he looked down at your hand gripping his. ”I guess I wasn't as clear with my intentions as I thought.” Honey-brown eyes trailed over your exposed skin. “But may I ask you a question?” You nodded. “What’s made you so distant tonight.”

“Oh, I just haven't—I don't normally dress like this.” you motioned down to the silk dress, hugging your curves in all the right places. “And, I—ugh, it's silly.”

“It's not silly if it’s coming from you; please tell me, talk to me.” 

“Well, you seemed stunned by my outfit. And you've been quiet all evening, staring at other people. So I thought maybe you were a bit embarrassed. I know I’m not the thinnest girl out there.”

In the blink of an eye, Nanami had you pushed against the nearest wall, out of sight from anyone who may pass you by. Both his large hands slammed against the wall on either side of your head, caging you in. You gasped, looking up to find a burning desire in his eyes that you had never seen before.

 

“Embarrassed? You seriously thought I was embarrassed?” His hand slowly trailed down your curves. “Darling,” he learned next to your mouth, the smell of wine and chocolate from dinner lingering on his breath. “I find you stunning. I'm more embarrassed by myself for letting my mind wander when it comes to how good you look in this dress. Do you know how hard it was to stop myself from gouging out the eyes of every man eye-fucking you at the restaurant?” 

You began panting as his hand trailed lower, teasing the exposed skin that peeked out from the slit in the dress. “T-That’s why you were glaring n-nngh.” Nanami hooked his hand under your thigh, lifting it to actress your sensitive skin more freely.

“Yes, I couldn't stand the way they were undressing you right in front of me.” The warmth of his fingers sent shivers throughout your body. “But I’m afraid to admit I’m not better than them.” 

“Oh, and why is that?” 

“Because I have wanted to do nothing more than kiss you since you opened your door this evening. Your curves, dress fit, and everything about you are stunning, no matter what you wear. But seeing you all dolled up for the first time had left me longing for you in primal ways.” 

You hooked your foot around the back of his thigh, watching his warm eyes grow wide as you grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his in a searing kiss. Nanami moaned, eyes fluttering shut as he dug his fingers into the fat of your thigh, squeezing and massaging it. The tender, careless feel of his lips against yours had you whining into his mouth as his tongue caressed your bottom lip. 

The kiss was searing, full of desire, as Kento found himself shamelessly rocking his hips against you, trying to close the thin layers of clothes between you. Each kiss, each careless set your skin ablaze with need, as the taste of chocolate and white wine felt like fermenting into an aphrodisiac. With each kiss, you fell deeper and deeper into the passion, leaving you feeling drunk.

Nanami broke the kiss, pulling back far enough that a string of saliva connected your lips. “T-That was unexpected.” He admitted, fingers trailing further up your leg.

“But was it good?”

“It was the best kiss I’ve ever shared with someone. So yes, it was unexpected but good.” The way Nanami’s hands roamed over you left you feeling overly sensitive as you gripped his upper arms. “You're so beautiful. God, I wish I could take you home and truly worship every inch of your body.” 

“Well, the show only lasts two hours.”

“Which is going to feel like a millennium when you're sitting next to me looking like some kind of goddess.”

“Goddess?” You mischievously grinned, running your hand slowly down his chest. “I like the sound of that.”

Nanami grinned, squeezing your thigh before leaning next to your ear. “After this show, can I take you back to my apartment and show my devotion to you? Worship your body as if it were your temple?” You moaned, melting like butter against his chest.

“Yes, god, I would love that.”

“Good, I‘ll be sure to worship you thoroughly.” 

Gojo Satoru:

Gojo had a problem with your butt, and that problem was that he was obsessed with it. Every time you reached for something, your best friend made it a point to grab a handful of your big ole booty and squeeze it, which didn't bother you. If anything, you were flattered that this six-three muscular man likes your ass. 

Because Gojo was gorgeous, with tufts of pristine white hair, cerulean eyes that reminded you of the blues oceans, and lashes you would kill for, having someone like him rubbing your ass was a cnficmsence booster. You adored him and knew deep down inside that adoration for him would never grow into something else because you were just friends, nothing more.

Because you were a curvy queen, and Gojo was a gym rat. It didn't matter if that butt squeezes and long hugs often left you fantasizing about a more romantic relationship with him. You could dream and fantasize about that as long as you wanted, but that reality probably would never come to be. 

But that wouldn't stop you from secretly praying and hoping for that reality to be manifested. 

Most of your girlfriends supported you both; they tried to get you to ask him out, while his friends felt the same way as yours. All of your friends could see you both getting together. But not everybody was as kind. 

“Hello, dearie!” You shifted the brown grocery bags in your arms as you turned to look at your elderly neighbor and her grandson getting on the elevator with you.

“Hi, how are you?” You smiled sweetly as the elevator began moving up to the fourth floor.

“Oh, we're doing great! Where’s that boyfriend of yours? The tall, handsome one.”

Hearing her call Gojo, your boyfriend, left you feeling butterflies as you shifted the bags again. “Oh, Toru? He’s at the gym, and we’re just—” Her grandson scoffed, shaking his head as he rolled his eyes 

“They're not dating grandma.”

 

“Oh, sure they are!” She grinned, tilting her head to look up at her rude grandson. “What even makes you say they aren't?”

“He’s fit and handsome, and she's got a fat ass and a gut.” 

You winced at the sting of his words as the elevator stopped on your floor. “Takashi!” Your neighbor snapped at the older man, rolling his eyes. “That was rude! She's a beautiful young woman, apologizes.” 

“Look, I’m sorry.” He shrugged as the three of you stepped off of the elevator. “I just know you ain't my type. I don't like,” he gestured over to you, “this.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, I’m not into assholes myself.” You grinned sourly at the man before storming towards your apartment.

“Takashi!”

You ignored the pleading from your neighbor and the apologies she shouted. None of that shit mattered, not to you. You loved yourself and your body, and someday, you would find somebody who loved you for you. They would show up someday. 

While you did your absolute best not to let the comments from the jerk bother you, your heart still aches as you put away your groceries. You hated men like him. Men who found it necessary to point out a woman’s flaws, to put them down. 

It soured your mood, making you pout as you grumbled and shoved things in cabinets. You were fuming so much you barely heard the knock on your front or when the door unlocked courtesy of the spare key you had made. You didn’t realize anyone was there until hands grabbed your hips while loading the fridge. Fear rose in your throat as you began to scream, only to have a hand clasp over your mouth, silencing you. 

“Easy, sweetheart! It’s just me.” The smooth, almost sultry voice had you relaxing as Gojo chuckled warmly behind you, his hand pulling away from your mouth. “You listening to music or something?” He questioned, dropping his chin on your shoulder to examine your ears, finding no earbuds.

“No.” You bluntly stated before pulling away from your best friend and shutting the door.

“Oof, someone’s angry.” The warmth of your best friend followed you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you as tight as he could. “Angry that you hadn’t seen me in a while~?” 

Your anger faded as the smell of clean linen and musk invaded your senses. You found yourself melting into his touch, tilting your head back to ring him, staring down at you with big sparkly eyes that glimmered with amusement. No matter your mood, Satoru always seemed to make you feel better

“I’m fine—it was just a crappy day.”

Gojo hummed, pressing his lips together as he swayed with you. “I’m sorry, Sweetie; what made it so bad?” You hesitated before groaning, knowing if you were to tell him the truth, it most likely would end with him doing something irrational. But you also hated lying to your best friend.

“It was just a lot of running around, going to the store.” You sighed. “Plus, I just haven’t been feeling good.”

In the flash of an eye, you were whipped around and turned to face Satoru, whose hand reached up to feel your forehead. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, continuing to think if you had a fever. “You aren’t dizzy? Feeling sick, are you?” Your cheeks burned, losing yourself in the concerned look in his eyes. 

“N-No, not like that, not like that at all.” 

Gojo pulled his hand away, dropping it to his side. “Okay, then, what’s wrong?” he asked, watching you carefully. That careful gaze had you frowning as you sighed.

“I feel a bit bad about myself.” When your best friend copped an eyebrow at you as if you were speaking another language, you sighed, smacking his arm playfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m having a hard time understanding why you feel bad about yourself.”

This time, you looked at him as if he was speaking some alien language. The man was cut out of a magazine. he was over six-feet tall had the most beautiful eyes, and he was handsome. There was no denying your best friend was good-looking. So, it only made sense that he wouldn’t understand how some people have insecurities about themselves. 

Gesture vaguely towards his body, moving your hand up and down as you focus on the mirror behind him. The last thing you wanted to make contact with him at the moment. Because he might not be secure about himself, he can read you like a damn book. 

“You wouldn’t understand what it’s like. You’re molded out of clay and given life by the gods themselves.” you moved your hand, gesturing to yourself. “I’m just curvy beyond all means. Unfortunately, not a lot of people are into that kind of thing. They don’t like a girl that’s bigger than them.”

Silence grew between you both as you tried to focus your attention on the mirror. Seeing him in such a state was shocking, but it was even more surprising to have him grab both your arms, squeezing them reassuringly.

Your mouth felt dry, and the room seemed to close in around itself as Gojo bent down closer to your height. In this situation, you weren't able to look away; Satoru made sure of that. You were stuck right where you stood, having to stare into the eyes of your best friend. 

“Who said that?” he asked, in a tone that could freeze hell over. 

“W-What?”

“I asked who said that load of bullshit to you so I can kick their ass.”

You flushed, shaking your head, not wanting him to beat up your neighbor's grandson, but the idea of it had you pressing your thighs together. Seeing your hesitant reaction left Gojo with a twisting sensation in his stomach. He knew something had been wrong when he wrapped his arms around you. Normally, you were touchy-feely, wanting to climb him like a tree, but today, you had been hesitant and standoffish, something he didn't like seeing you deal with. 

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Toru—it isn't that—”

He gave you a firm shake. “It is a big deal! Especially when somebody hurts you.” With a heavy sigh, you reached up gently, placing your hand on the upper arm. 

“Ugh, my neighbor thought we were dating, and I tried to tell her we weren’t, but her grandson beat me to it saying we aren’t dating. Because you're handsome, and I have a fat ass and a gut.”

“That—”

“I know its craz—”

“Motherfucker!” Gojo dropped his hands off your arms and growled, storming around the kitchen. You were too stunned to speak, just watching him closely as he grumbled and kept looking at the door that led out of your apartment, “I should kick his ass! I really should! That dick!” 

You blinked several times, watching as the white-haired man fumed. “W-Wait, you're angry about him saying that about me?” That got Gojo to stop as he turned to gawk at you. “What?! I'm just shocked you'd care about that; I thought you’d be more embarrassed over the face his grandma assumed we were dating.”  Your genuine shock and concern made Gojo grip the counter as he shook his head.

“The only person that doesn't think we're dating is you. Because God, I don't know how much more obvious I can be with you over the fact that I want to date you.”

“Y-You wanna date me?” You repeated back to him in stunned shock. “S-Since when?!”

“Since forever!” Gojo laughed out loud, shaking his head as he cock his brow at you. “I'm always over here, hugging you, telling you how much you mean to me. But every time I try to make a move, you toss me in the friend zone.

The words from your neighbor's grandson invaded your ears as Satoru stepped closer to you. “B-But I'm curvy, I have a gut!”

“And I love your curves and your tummy.” You stood still, allowing Gojo to cup your cheek gently. “Everything about you is perfect in my eyes. I wouldn't change a damn thing about you. Except for moving you away from that piece of shit.”

Your heart began to race at his confession, leaving you inching closer towards him. “Y-You're being serious right now. Are you not messing with me?” Gojo rolled his eyes so hard you could hear them roll into the back of his head.

“Sweetheart, I've been serious about you for years. You just were too blind to see that.” 

For all these years, you'd always thought that Satoru was just overly affectionate with you. Knowing there was a legitimate reason for him constantly caressing you and talking sweetly to you, all of your insecurities faded as you felt his eyes roaming over your skin. You could tell he was serious. He wanted you.

“Maybe you could be a bit more direct with me then.”

“Oh? You want me to be more direct?” 

Gojo wanted you to nod your head before he lifted you up and off the ground, placing you on the counter before kissing you deeply. Your eyes went wide at the sudden kiss, but you slowly found yourself melting into it, your hand gripping his tank top. You kissed him back with as much passion. Seeing that sort of expression, feeling your hands on him, only fueled the need in him. 

Gojo growled as he grabbed your thighs, kneading them with a groan as he seeped the kiss. “You’re so pretty, so damn pretty.” He whispered against your swollen lips. “All these other boys are stupid.” You moaned happily as he trailed his hand up further, sliding them. “Which I’m so thankful for.” He trailed kisses along your jaw with a sigh. “God, I really wanna beat his ass for making the prettiest girl in my world feel like that,” he pulled back, glancing back at the door. “I really should go beat his ass.” 

“I have a better idea” you grabbed his chin forcing him to look into your eyes this time. “How about you put your lips back on mine, and you kiss me and make up for lost time since I was so blind.”

Gojo grinned, picking you off the counter and carrying you to the couch, where he dropped you. He took a chance to look at all your beautiful curves. “God, you are so right.” He crawled on top of you, relishing in the way you whined and shivered. “We have lots of time to make up for, so you better clear your schedule because you are all mine until we’re both knocked out.” 

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[boolger]

Never getting rid of me - John Price x reader

Hi sinners, so here are some dark!john price x reader thoughts that got out of hand. Yes, inspired by the song ‘never getting rid of me’, both the musical version but also the more creepy version by Egg on Spotify.

Dead dove don’t eat. Read the tags. Mdni. 18+. Tw creepy ass Price, stalking, kidnapping, non-con and dub-con, forced marriage, forced gender role/stereotypes, non-con punishments, loss of virginity, daddy kink, squirting, just….dont read if you’re looking for a sweet fic w John price. There will also be feet kink and scent kink.

Reader is chubby and described as having a pussy and perceived to be a woman by Price. Whether or not the reader actually is this, is up to you, really. besides that, i did my best to keep the description of reader vague. I apologize for any grammatical errors. English is not my first language and i am ttired

Something something dark! Price who sees you randomly at a coffee shop where you serve him awful tea - but it’s okay, pet, because you are the most beautiful and innocent thing Price has ever seen.

Dark!Price who knows it’s best to be sweet at first as to not scare you away - he can’t lose you this early, you’re perfect for his retirement after all, even though that’s far into the future. So despite the bloody awful tea, Price does his best to be a regular at the shop.

He even walks you home afterwards, you just don’t know it. He doesn’t consider it stalking — no no, he is just making sure you come home safe after your shift! Never know what kind of men are out there after all, besides himself of course.

While you’re at work, he breaks into your house early, going through everything throughout a couple of days. After an hour or two (sometimes three if he is feeling cheeky) he leaves, going to the shop to see you. He has time off before the next mission, what else is he supposed to do?

And is that a diary? Oh my, how convenient for Price, he needs to know his sweetheart's thoughts after all. And boy, does he learn a lot of fun things in that little book of yours

He becomes obsessed with very specific things in the following days — the way you write the letter J and P. The way you organize the fridge, the way your socks and underwear smells - so sweet, so perfect. All you. He liked how you read a lot of romance, how you always drank dr. Pepper every Friday evening. 

Okay, so you might prefer coffee, but don’t worry, Price knows he can fix that! You just need to taste actual tea, good tea, not the dog piss he drinks at the coffee shop almost every day by now.

He pulls a few strings and gets access to all of your electronics and oh isn’t it fun to see what you do on your phone every day, what music he needs to get on CD, because a silly lass like you can’t be trusted to have a phone when you get together in the future, can you? Not at first at least, maybe you can earn back the right with time.

Dark!Price loves seeing what kind of porn you watch. Loves seeing what your search words are, whether it’s kinky or not.

Especially after reading in your diary that you are a virgin! It has him frothing at his mouth, the urge to take you instantly, overwhelmingly strong when he sees the words for the first time.

Of course he always makes sure to put everything back in the exact same spot and way as he found it. Can’t have you stop writing in your sweet diary, it’s his favorite book already!

The first mission he goes on is awful. Sure everything goes smoothly and even though he has installed hidden cameras all over your apartment, it isn’t the same as being there.

Dark!Price who proudly shows you off to his team - the boys need to see who their captain is in love with after all. And he trusts his men, knows that they’re just as fucked up as him — they coo at the sight of you, of the few photos he has dared to take of you while you slept. Not his fault that you live in an apartment that is embarrassingly easy to break into, is it, pet? 

Dark!Price who feels so proud as his men drool over your soft curves, talking about your tits and ass and when Price mentions that you’re untouched, he is pretty sure Soap and Gaz almost come in their pants. Possibly Simon too, Price knows him, but he pretends he isn't as affected by the words - As if Price can’t see the man’s erection in his pants.

He gets everything ready, his little house in the middle of nowhere gets fixed up. He always imagined he would move into the house much later, when he actually retired but he can’t wait that long to have you. He loves the idea of having his missus all ready for him whenever he returns from work. All his. He would never let you go, you would always be his. He would take care of you forever - he already imagined bringing you to his mom, bless her. Old and sick, but you would charm her, he is sure.

Price who asks you out after two months of coming regularly to the coffee shop, putting on his best charming smile - and of course you, his future bride, says yes! All shyly, barely able to look him in the eyes, but there is a jump to your step afterwards and you’re grinning like you won the lottery.

Price, who is the perfect gentleman at the date, he takes you out somewhere nice, pays for everything despite your protests, soaks in all of your attention, who loves every second he spends with you. He is ready to declare his love for you at the end of the night but he knows it’s too early. He doesn’t try to kiss you, doesn’t even imply he wants to get in your knickers, despite his strong urge to do so. No, no need to scare you away.

so imagine Dark! Price’s reaction to seeing your diary entry the day afterwards - you describe him as too sweet, unsure if you’re ready for a relationship - almost upsets him, until the last line. He would probably be a nice person to lose my virginity to. That’s as good as a love confession to him! A bloody proposal almost and despite not having planned to move things along this quickly, well he has to, doesn’t he?

It’s embarrassingly easy to kidnap you together Gaz. He just happens to drive by you on your way home after a long shift, and saying “want a lift, sweetheart?” is all it takes.

Gaz who was hidden in the backseat and the moment the doors closes and locks, he sits up and uses one of those fancy syringes to stab you. Don’t make a fuss, don’t be silly, birdie, it’s all good! Just take a nap, eh? 

Nikolai and the rest of the team are almost finished packing up your things - they’ve been at it all day after all, dark!Price has personally packed the most important parts of your home, like that nice diary of yours, sextoys and underwear and all those nice photo albums you have. Nothing is getting left behind! You need to feel at home at his house after all. The boys almost deserve to have their fun with you at some point in the future.

He is there when you wake up, smiling happily at you, as you groggily take in the basement you’re currently in; See how some of your furniture is down there, the nice green color he painted the walls, how it’s your own lampshade hanging from the ceiling. He lets you take in the wedding dress hanging proudly in front of the wardrobe, the little bathroom not too far from you - the cameras that hang everywhere, not even attempting to be discreet. He has to make sure you’re behaving after all.

Dark!Price who gets incredibly turned on when you realize you’re wearing a metal collar and chained to the wall - the way your eyes widens and how confusion visibly changes into fear. Like a little prey releasing they’re in a trap - and unable to get out.

he is extremely proud over how he doesn’t take you right then and there, despite how much he wants too.

Oh how adorable your attempts at attacking him are! Even though you’re still groggy from those nasty sedatives, you hit his chest and try to claw at him. Screaming and crying, throwing a proper tantrum! He can’t help but laugh as you threaten him. “sure you’ll go to the police, pet” he agrees while he easily catches your fist that was aiming for his nose, “but no I’m not letting you go.”

you scream bloody murder, as if he has done you anything. Ridiculous. But Price patiently (and easily) fights you off all day. Teasing back, pointing out that it’s not that bad down here, trying to explain that the two of you are going to be together forever.

Price who lets you run out of energy that first day, until you’re a sobbing mess - gathering you into his arms, promising you that he is never gonna leave you, that you’re never getting rid of him. Not like all those other people in your life, no don’t worry, princess! Price will be your daddy, he will make sure you have everything you need! You’re not even going to work at that lousy job anymore, pet, don’t worry, he already quit it for you. 

Dark! Price, who is all sweet and gentle as he comforts you, kissing your forehead and temple, muttering about how silly you are - that he understands that you might feel a little overwhelmed - but look at how pretty your wedding dress is, sweetheart! All in the different sizes as well, don’t worry, he has taken your measurements and bra sizes and everything, his missus doesn't have to worry about anything. He saw your Pinterest boards, Gaz and Soap showed him how the website works, and saw all the different dresses you had dreamt of. Isn’t this perfect? Just for you!!

Dark! Price who doesn’t outright admit to having read your diary, breaking in or stalking you, despite all those accusations of yours… no no, he didn’t he just … got ready for the two of you to be together - but of course he knows so much about you sweetheart, he has seen the daddy kink porn you watch regularly, yeah he knows you’re a virgin. No no, he won’t rape you, what’s that all about? No, you’re saving your virginity to marriage, you’re a good girl - the two of you can wait another week, that’s nothing.

and after everything, how nice he has been and how he has sat everything up in the basement you’re still angry with him? Don’t be absurd, sweetheart, you would come around soon - you were going to be his missus after all, what kind of wife would you be if you didn’t want to talk to him?

Something something, he ends up pushing you to the floor, holding your hands down as he takes his time to properly smell you. Your pussy, over your clothes, don’t worry - your armpits. Grabs your ankle and sniffs your foot too. Sweet all over!

dark! Price who loses control of his anger when you throw the entire tray of breakfast that he made for you, at him. The tea is not too hot because of the milk, but still. You made a mess and that isn’t nice. He takes you over his knee for that, slapping your arse and upper thighs sore, leaves you an absolute mess. He apologizes afterwards of course, not really because he feels bad about it, but because you made him do that. He has to make sure you understand that there are consequences for your actions! 

Dark!Price who keeps you downstairs in that little basement of his, while you get your worst fits over with. He expected these, you’re a strong woman after all, you just need to understand that the two of you are meant for each other. Next week the boys will swing by and they’ll be witnesses as the two of you get married - isn’t that grand?

No, the shop won’t be looking for you, bird, don’t worry about that! You already quit immediately - had to move home for a family emergency, but you were very sorry about it. You already terminated your apartment lease too, moved out already! Pesky family emergency again, innit? No no don’t cry pet, Price knows you don’t have any family you’re close with, it’s okay. Nobody is hurt! All is good! You’re just being silly, you don’t know how good all of this will be for you. How you will be a perfect missus!

He will threaten and hurt you all week, but not touch that sweet pussy of yours - grope you? Sure, but nothing more than that. You’re not married yet after all. 

Price who sweetly explains that he knows you love him, even if you can’t say it out loud yet! That’s alright, sweet pet, you will be able to soon!

Dark! Price who happily makes it clear to you that making any kind of fuss at the town hall and they will kill everyone. You won’t have to wear the beautiful dress at the town hall, no, Price got you something much more simple, they don’t deserve to see you at your most beautiful - it will be quick anyways, don’t worry sweetheart. Just sign the papers. No fuss, remember? No protest - look, all the boys dressed up nicely in suits - and look! They’re all armed as well. Would be a bloody shame if you were guilty of getting so many people killed, wouldn’t it?

dark! Price who kisses you for the first time after you sign the papers, who almost wants to lick off the tears rolling down your cheeks as the workers of the town hall coos, thinking you’re crying from happiness. And you are, but you’re also a little overwhelmed, aren’t you, pet? Better get you home again.

dark!price who dresses you up at home, forcing you to swirl in your dress in front of his men, Nikolai and Laswell. All of them ignore your attempts at asking for help and you’re a quick learner - you figure out that they’re not going to help you after a few attempts. You’re his girl, his sweet missus, and you’re handcuffed as you sit on his lap during their dinner at home, being fed all the nicely made dinner from a fancy restaurant. You don’t even throw a fuss as you eat all together, so you’re rewarded with some champagne and wine. Good tasting, aren’t they?

Dark!Price who grins as he sends his guests on their merry way, while you begin to cry again, begging to not be left alone with him - aw, you’re so sweet when you’re getting nervous. Is the wine getting to your head?

Dark! Price who throws you over his shoulder then, not bringing you down to the basement but instead into your new shared bedroom. Laying you down on the bed, taking in the sight of you like this. In your wedding dress, surrounded by rose petals, painted all warm colors by the sunset. Cooing at you as you hiccup and cry and hide your face behind your hands, saying you don’t want to. Don’t worry, he will be nice! All gentle for you, pet, it will feel good!

Dark!Price who cuffs you to the bed, pushing up that nice dress of yours to expose your bottom half. Looking at the pretty lace he forced you into earlier, praising you for how beautiful you look! He kisses your thighs, keeping your legs open with his strong hands, taking his time. Finally the two of you are married. You’re going to be his in every way now! With a ring on your finger, a new name — losing your innocence to your husband.

Dark! Price who eats you, Mrs. Price, out all lovingly, enjoying the sounds that escape you against your will. Loving your taste, loving the way your legs shake, the way you cry as he ducks on your clit. He makes you come on his tongue and then fingers, and you’re perfect! Squirting for him! He is lapping up the sweetness that pours from you! See, he will make it feel good for you. He even frees your hands. 

Dark! Price who shushes your cries as he pushes his fat cock into your hole, ruining your sweet pussy for everybody else; he can feel how wet you are for him, croons at how good your cunt feels. How daddy will take care of you, just breathe. Yeah, just like that, c’mon princess, look down to see how the two of you are connected! He pushes in the last couple of inches the moment you look down, taking in your cry with pride, drowning in pleasure and ownership.

You’re so wet and warm around his big cock, he couldn’t help himself, lass! His perfect wife with a perfect cunt, feels so good - he is going to fill you up, don’t worry, but not until he has made you come again and again.

dark!Price who whispers “i know I know, pet,” as you whimper over how it feels weird, how it hurts because his cock is so big. Who drinks in the sight of you as he licks two fingers before slipping them in between the two of you, gently rubbing at your clit and oh, that feels nice, doesn’t it?

Dark! Price who finally begins to fuck you then - no, he isn’t fucking you, he is making love to you. The first round is all sweet and gentle, he is claiming you, taking his time. Covering you in kisses as he rolls his hips, touching all those soft places of yours. He wants to run his tongue over those stretch marks, wants to fuck his cock in between those two breasts of yours. But for now he fucks you as you deserve, enjoying your little moans and whines that grows stronger and louder, the way your body shakes and the way you grab onto his shoulder and back. How those sweet nails of yours digs into his skin.

Dark! Price who makes you come twice, cooing in your ear about how you wanted it after all, how you’re his wife forever now - before he comes himself, hot cum shooting deep inside of you.

The second round isn’t as gentle in any way - it’s after twenty minutes of holding and kissing you, cuddling you and declaring his love, that he takes you again. He fucks you, properly. He makes the bed rock as he fucks into you, making you scream and trash, before surprising the both of you by squirting again. 

Dark! Price who almost fucks you the entire night - yeah, he might have taken some viagra, but he honestly wouldn’t even have needed it, because you naked in front of him is enough. Wedding dress ripped to shreds, cum all over it and over you. You’re fucked from behind, then in a mating press. You pass out during the last round, much to his amusement! Sweet missus, all tired, eh? That’s okay, the two of you got the rest of your lives together - forever and ever, because you’re never getting rid of Price. Never.

[bookwormjust]

Protective shadows (Established relationship, Azriel's mate, Cassian teasing as usual, Azriel not in the mood)

The sun hung low over the sprawling courtyards of the House of Wind, casting long, golden rays across the stone floors. The Inner Circle had gathered for a relaxed afternoon, a rare reprieve from the pressures of their roles and responsibilities. You sat beside Azriel on one of the plush outdoor sofas, enjoying the warm breeze that carried the scent of blooming flowers from the nearby gardens.

Azriel’s shadows, ever-present and watchful, danced lazily around him, the dark tendrils swirling softly like smoke caught in a gentle breeze. One shadow, in particular, was coiled around your wrist like a bracelet—warm and familiar, its touch a constant, comforting reminder of his presence. It seemed to pulse with a life of its own, moving in sync with the rhythm of your heartbeat.

Cassian, always one to notice the little details, caught sight of the shadow and grinned, leaning back in his chair with a teasing glint in his eyes. “You know, Az, I don’t think I’ve ever seen your shadows so attached to anyone before. Are you sure you’re not overdoing it a little?” he joked, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I mean, they’re practically glued to her.”

Azriel’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he glanced at Cassian. There was a flicker of something sharp in his gaze, a protective edge that made his shadows stir restlessly around him. He kept his hand resting on your knee, his thumb brushing slow, calming circles into your skin, but his posture tensed, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

“They do as they please,” Azriel said, his voice low and steady, but there was an unmistakable warning in his tone. His shadows, sensing his unease, tightened ever so slightly around your wrist, as if reaffirming their presence, their silent vow to protect.

Cassian chuckled, clearly oblivious to the shift in Azriel’s mood. “Oh, come on, Az. It’s just a shadow. It’s not like anyone’s going to steal her away from you,” he teased, the grin on his face broadening. “Besides, it’s not like she’s in danger here.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened, a flicker of anger sparking in their depths. The shadows around him grew denser, swirling with a sudden intensity that made the air feel heavier. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerously quiet level. “They’re not just shadows, Cassian,” he said, each word edged with a quiet menace. “They’re a part of me, and they know exactly where they belong.”

Cassian’s smile faltered, the lightness of his teasing dimming as he realized Azriel was not in the mood for jokes. He raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender, though the gleam in his eyes showed he was not entirely cowed. “Alright, alright. No need to get your feathers ruffled, Shadowsinger,” Cassian said, though his tone was more subdued now. “I’m just messing with you.”

But Azriel’s gaze remained hard, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. “She is my mate,” he said, the words resonating with a possessive finality. “My shadows protect what’s mine, and I won’t apologize for that.”

The declaration hung in the air, charged with the weight of his emotions. Azriel’s shadows pulsed in time with his heartbeat, the tendril around your wrist tightening slightly before relaxing, as if echoing his protectiveness. You could feel the intensity of his feelings through your bond—the fierce need to keep you safe, to ensure that nothing and no one could ever harm you.

You reached up, placing a gentle hand on Azriel’s arm, grounding him with your touch. “I like having them close,” you said softly, offering him a reassuring smile. “They make me feel safe.”

Azriel’s gaze softened as he looked at you, the tension in his posture easing just a fraction. His thumb resumed its soothing motion on your knee, and his shadows seemed to calm, their movements becoming more languid and relaxed. He turned his attention back to Cassian, his expression still guarded but the anger fading from his eyes.

Cassian met Azriel’s gaze, his own expression more serious now. “I get it,” he said quietly, a hint of understanding in his tone. “I just didn’t realize it meant that much to you.”

“It does,” Azriel replied, his voice steady, though the underlying edge of protectiveness remained. “She’s everything to me.”

Cassian nodded, his teasing demeanor replaced by a rare look of respect. “Well, then,” he said, a small, genuine smile touching his lips. “I’m glad she has you—and your shadows—looking out for her.”

Azriel inclined his head, accepting the peace offering with a slight nod. He turned his attention back to you, his expression softening further as he caught your eye. The shadow around your wrist gave a gentle squeeze, like a silent promise, before settling back into its usual, comforting rhythm.

You leaned into Azriel, resting your head against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer. His wings shifted slightly, brushing against your back in a gesture that felt both protective and intimate. The bond between you thrummed with warmth, a steady reassurance that no matter what, Azriel would always be there, his shadows ever-watchful, ever-loyal.

Cassian might have teased, but you knew the truth: Azriel’s shadows were more than just wisps of darkness—they were extensions of his love, his devotion, and his unyielding promise to keep you safe. And in that moment, wrapped in his embrace with the steady presence of his shadows around you, you knew you were exactly where you belonged.

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Nine - Babymoon

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie takes you up to Canada to visit her family and for a relaxing trip out to cottage country. Her parents are thrilled to see you and to - technically - meet their first grandchild. The problem? They just won't leave you two alone.

Warnings: G!P sex. Masturbation (r), fingering, oral, g!p penetrative sex, preg and breeding kinks, dirty talk, language.

A/N: J and R are horny, y'all. The rest of the series can be found here.

“I used to play hockey at that arena. The locker rooms were terrible. Oh, and I used to run track over there. And you see that store down the way - it used to be this little hobby shop and my dad used to take me there sometimes to buy models or crafts.”

Jessie pointed enthusiastically out the windows of the rental car as she drove you both to her parents’ home from the airport. She’d brought you to her childhood home a handful of times by now, but she never tired of showing you the sights even if you’d seen them all before.

“You’re adorable,” you told her as you watched her affectionately. “And yes dear, I remember. Pregnancy brain hasn’t hit me that hard yet,” you chuckled.

“Oh and that house had the best candy at Halloween,” Jessie went on, undeterred. You laughed.

“Well look at the size of that house. They definitely had full-size-candy-bar money,” you joked.

“I can’t wait until I can take our daughter around town and show her some of these places. And soon enough she’ll have memories like these of her own.”

You smiled softly at her, kissing her hand before resting it on your belly.

“Has she settled a bit?” Jessie asked as she rubbed your bump.

“Yeah, the drive seems to be keeping the activity to a minimum compared to the flight,” you chuckled. “That was the most active she’s ever been. She either loves flying or hates it. Not sure which.”

“Everything seems okay though?” Jessie asked, concern creeping in.

“Yeah, I feel fine. I’m only at 24 weeks, the midwife said I’m well within the safe zone for flying.”

She smiled and relaxed as you gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Alright, we’re here,” Jessie announced as she pulled into the driveway. “I’ll get the bags. You just go in. They said the door’s open. Plus they were probably staring out the window the whole time waiting,” she laughed.

“Their first grandchild is technically visiting,” you said with a smirk. “Of course they’re excited.”

Jessie chuckled. “Yeah, imagine what they’ll be like after she’s born.”

She gave you a peck on the cheek before bounding out of the car and jogging over to your side. She opened your door with a very satisfied smile on her face, counter to the mild glare you gave her. She held out her hand, which you dutifully ignored as you climbed out, somewhat more encumbered than weeks before and it requiring a bit more effort.

“I don’t need help yet,” you said under your breath to her and Jessie just kissed your cheek again. You gave her a teasing look. “You’re just trying to look good in front of your parents.”

“What? I-”

Her words were cut off when her parents opened the door and greeted you both boisterously.

“Oh my gosh,” her mom cooed moments after giving you a hug and immediately had her hands on the swell of your midsection and began asking you rapid-fire questions.

“Mom,” Jessie chided. She was about to interject further when she noticed her dad hauling the bags out of the trunk. “Dad!” She rounded and ended up going shoulder to shoulder with him, jockeying for the leverage and space to grab the bags.

“Oh, you two,” her mom scolded mildly before placing an arm around your back. “Come on, Y/N, let’s get inside. We’ll let these two duke it out.”

After an initial visit with her parents and a quick walk around as they showed you both new things around the house, Jessie and you were free to get settled.

Despite your protests to help, Jessie lugged all of the bags up the stairs to her old bedroom where you’d both be staying.

"Sure you don't want to stay in the guest bedroom?" She asked one final time with a discerning look. It would be much more comfortable. It had a bigger bed and its own bathroom - a very valuable perk as you now got up almost every night to go to the bathroom - but you were insistent on staying in her old room. You said it was sweet being surrounded by remnants of her younger self.

"I'm positive," you said without hesitation as you walked in.

Even though she hadn’t lived at home in many years now, her parents left her room exactly the same. Her old medals and trophies were still there, old pictures and trinkets of hers were still neatly displayed around the room.

“Oh, I love it,” you said as you clasped your hands together under your chin and looked around. “So cute. I can’t get over it,” you said as you held up an old picture of her and some friends. “I really, really hope she has your freckles,” you went on before giving her cheeks a light pinch, and pulling a feigned glower out of her.

“Thanks for being okay stopping here for a few days,” Jessie said as she sat down on the bed. “My parents and grandparents have been begging me to bring you back forever, never mind now,” she said as she pulled you by the hand towards her and kissed your stomach.

“Of course, baby,” you told her as you stroked her face and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m happy to be here.”

“The family stuff’s going to be pretty full on, but you’ll get to relax when we head to the cottage, I promise.”

“I’m not worried,” you assured her as you continued to run your fingers through her hair. Jessie lifted your shirt and kissed your stomach furthermore.

“Okay, cool it,” you ordered as you gently pushed her head away. “You know how I’ve been lately. And yeah, not the time and place. Agreed?” You finished with a look of warning.

She sighed heavily as she leaned back on her hands, arms outstretched. “I know,” she said though her gaze lingered on your body. When you folded her arms across yourself, inadvertently emphasizing your growing bust, she belatedly forced herself to look up at you.

“Jess. I’m not kidding. I am not having sex in your childhood bedroom, okay?”

She made a slight face in mock contemplation. “Well, I did suggest we take the guest bedroom…”

You scoffed and turned away briefly before rounding on her again, arm outstretched and circling the air in gesture.

"You can't even sit like that. Okay? Cause seeing you leaned back like that just makes me want to drop to my knees and suck you off."

Jessie's eyes grew wide at the blunt declaration while your words threatened to cause her blood to pump strictly between her legs. You scoffed further and walked away, leaving Jessie to jump up after you.

“I’m sorry. I understand. I’ll be good, I promise.”

"Mhmm," you voiced flatly. She nearly sighed; she was in the doghouse again.

You ignored her a while longer as you both returned to catching up with her parents. At one point her parents suggested a board game and Jessie went downstairs to pick one out and was relieved when you piped up saying you'd join her.

She matched your pace on the stairs, though she hopped down from step to step. She jumped and turned mid-air landing in front of you at the base of the stairs with a smile on her face though you just rolled your eyes.

"Must be nice to be so spry," you deadpanned.

She held out her hand to you and stepped out of the way giving a small bow. When you side-eyed her and gave a noncommittal hum as you walked on, her face fell in a frown of disappointment.

"Where are we going?" you asked.

"This way," she said, more subdued as she led you to an adjacent room. She turned on the light and pointed out the collection, but turned to face you right after. "Why are you upset with me?" She pouted.

"I'm not upset with you," you responded evenly. The way you examined the board games instead of looking at her did little to reassure Jessie.

"You seem upset. And I don't know what I did wrong," she went on.

You were leaned down slightly, hands on your knees as you determinedly studied the game collection, but straightened now and looked her way, your expression unreadable. Jessie frowned as you looked past her for a moment.

Before she could question you, you grasped her hand and pulled her towards you. You took her hand and guided it under the waistband of your pants and underwear until her fingers were against your hot, wet heat.

"Do I still seem upset to you?" You whispered in her ear as your other arm went around the back of her shoulders and pulled her close. Her knees gave slightly as she was overcome by the feel of your arousal and warm breath against her skin.

"Fuck," she said as her eyes closed as she began to automatically stroke her fingers through your swollen folds. "Oh my God, babe."

"I'm horny. And I want you. And I can't do anything about it," you said matter of fact. "That's all."

Jessie's eyes were still closed as she inadvertently began to grind her hips up into you while her fingers continued to explore. She gently circled your clit and wrapped her arm around your back securely as your own knees weakened.

"God, baby, I want you inside of me," you whined under your breath as you subtly rocked against her hand. Goosebumps rose across Jessie's skin as you softly panted in her ear; fingers on one hand running through her hair while your other hand groped her ass needily.

"Kiss me," you ordered as you pulled her head into you. She readily complied, her mouth clashing into yours in a messy, wanting kiss.

Jessie felt that all too familiar tightness forming in her pants as she began to harden. If you two were at home, she would've undressed you and fucked you the way you wanted. However, given current circumstances - there was no way.

She listened for noises beyond your whispers and moans. Hearing nothing, she sunk two fingers inside of your waiting tunnel. She pulsed at the sharp inhale you took and the way you melted into her embrace.

The angle was certainly tougher than months prior, she had to position herself around your burgeoning bump and she couldn't get as deep as she wanted with both of you standing like this, but it didn't seem to bother you.

While you wrapped an arm around her shoulder for balance, you let yourself fall into her waiting hand rhythmically, trusting her to hold you up and she did just so.

"God, baby, you're flooding my palm already," she breathed as she burrowed her head against you and curled her fingers inside of you furthermore. She was rock hard as, despite your efforts, the odd repressed, high-pitched whimper filled her ears.

"Shit!" She cursed as suddenly loud steps began to boom down the stairwell. You rapidly pulled away from one another, both wide-eyed with panic as you both tried to recover.

You quickly adjusted your clothes and fixed your hair. Your cheeks were flushed, but there was nothing to do about that. Jessie glanced at the very obvious bulge in her pants and at her fingers and palm that were coated in your juices.

"How's it going in there?" Her dad called from the other room. "I'm grabbing a couple of photo albums. Y/N, I can show you those pictures of Jessie at the science fair in elementary."

Jessie was still overwhelmed with panic and before she could determine what to do, you took a quick glance at the door before you stepped forward and grasped her hand. You held it up, locking eyes with her before placing her fingers in your mouth and very sensually bobbing your head up and down as you sucked them clean. Jessie's jaw fell at the feel and sight, her cock pulsing once more.

"Amazing! I'll come check them out with you," you called back once you released her fingers from your mouth.

"Babe," she hissed, though all she wanted was to feel your lips around her length.

You smirked and wiped her palm on the inside of your shirt before heading to the door. You were nearly there when Jessie's dad rounded the doorframe. She dropped into a crouch, back angled towards the door as she feigned looking at the games again.

"You two still haven't picked anything?" He asked as he arched an eyebrow. "Well, come on, Y/N, I'll start by showing you pictures first."

"Sounds good to me," you said as you and her dad departed. Jessie watched you subtly over her shoulder and glared when you waggled your fingers at her in a teasing wave with a wink.

It took her longer than she'd like to admit to recover. When she finally deemed it safe to head upstairs, her heart warmed at the sight of you on the couch with her parents poring over childhood pictures and listening attentively as they shared various, albeit, embarrassing stories.

Normally, she'd be bothered by the tales, but all she could focus on was the meeting of these two families of hers - the one she was born into and the one she was making with you.

You were together in the kitchen later and you sidled up to her, your arm brushing against hers as you whispered.

"Seems you recovered okay."

Jessie shot you a half-hearted glare. "Barely. I don't know how you're surviving." She leaned in, keeping an eye out for either of her parents, "From the way you were tightening around me, the way you were whimpering in my ear, seems you were pretty close." She held back a grin at how your shoulders fell and a faint, low groan escaped you.

You reciprocated, leaning back into her, your breath sending shivers down her spine.

"You better finish what you started, that's all I can say."

"Girls! Do you want some crackers to carry you over until dinner?"

Jessie groaned, jaw clenching in frustration as her mom's voice filtered in. Her annoyance dissipated slightly as you kissed her cheek.

The rest of the afternoon was filled with fleeting, hidden flirtations - all interrupted by her parents without fail. At the end of the night, you were all sitting in the living room watching a movie together, Jessie and you sitting together under a blanket on the couch with her parents on the other.

Jessie did her damn best to ignore the way your hand very subtly caressed her leg, inching so slowly towards the inside of her thigh. She shot you a few, increasingly less subtle looks of warning as you continued your incognito explorations.

At one point, Jessie felt herself start to grow firm and she cleared her throat, shuffling slightly away from you. She ignored the look you gave her.

She thought things were in the clear until you quietly excused yourself. Her parents offered to pause the movie, but you insisted they keep watching. Jessie's eyes followed you as you ducked upstairs.

She fidgeted for a while until she felt enough time had passed that she could reasonably excuse herself as well, also insisting that her parents keep watching.

Quietly padding down the upstairs hall, she frowned as she scanned the doors - seeing you weren't in the bathroom. Her bedroom door was closed though.

She gingerly opened it, peeking her head around the door and was met with a shadowy visual of you on the bed, legs spread, your hand between your legs. You met Jessie's shocked gaze, yours entirely unfazed, your motions not faltering, clearly knowing it would be her walking in.

Her jaw was slack yet again that day as she stepped inside quickly and closed the door quietly behind her. The second the door closed, you allowed soft moans to fall from your mouth.

"Jesus Christ, babe," Jessie whispered as she approached.

"I was hoping you'd follow me," you said. "I couldn't wait any longer."

No coherent thoughts ran through her mind as her eyes raked over your naked form in the pale moonlight. The curve of your breasts shone in the glow, your darkened nipples drawing her attention. And the ever growing roundness of your stomach caught the light just so, casting a shadow between your legs that was only illuminated every time your wrist moved as you played with your clit. She could hear how wet you were as opposed to seeing it, and the sound alone caused her to start to swell.

She hooked her arms under your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the bed as she settled wordlessly between your legs, hooking yours over her shoulders. Wasting no time, she buried her face in your wet folds, tongue wide and soft as she began to lap up the juices that dripped from your entrance.

You immediately let out a high moan, but you both stopped right away, your hands coming to your mouth in surprise, but to also muffle anything further. Jessie waited a few moments to let you recenter, but your hand coming to the back of her head told her the break was over.

She began to hungrily eat you out, her tongue pushing inside of you, circling your entrance, tracing up and down between your folds, tongue firm, then soft, over and over before flicking across your clit while she sucked.

Muffled whines came from you as your legs tensed and relaxed intermittently around her head. Your fingers dug into her crown, tugging her hair sharply now and then before releasing and caressing her and starting all over.

Eventually, you shifted slightly, tugging at her hair differently than before.

"I need you," you said as you signaled for her to stand. She quickly rose to her feet, undoing her pants and dropping them to the floor along with her boxers. She glanced at the bed for a moment, grabbing you a pillow and tucking it under your hips.

"Sorry," she said for not thinking of it sooner.

You didn't say a word, instead grabbing her by her hard on and pulling her towards your entrance.

"Okay, baby," she said, holding back a chuckle at your eagerness. She lined herself up and pushed herself forward, slipping inside of you effortlessly with how worked up you were.

"Oh Jesus," Jessie mumbled, eyes fluttering shut as you wrapped around her. "Fuck," she breathed as she drew her hips back and began to thrust into you with slow, firm strokes.

Your hands came up to your face, fingers digging into skin as a long, soft moan fought its way up your throat.

"God, I love you," you said, head thrown back. "I needed you so badly."

"I need you, too, baby," she said as she began to gradually pick up her pace.

"Fuck me harder, baby," you pleaded as you moved your hands to the back of her neck and pulled her into a kiss, Jessie needing to angle herself around your swollen middle. "I need you."

"Mm," Jessie groaned as she rolled her hips as she thrust into you. "I can't. I want to - God, I want to. But we can't be loud."

"I just want you to fuck me," you told her desperately as you began to claw at the back of her neck. A muffled cry fell from her lips as the sensation, arching her back over you, a hand subconsciously resting on the side of your bump. She went to lift herself back up so there was zero risk of her weight on your stomach, but you pulled her back up. "I want you with me."

Jessie nodded, angling herself again despite how uncomfortable it was, but if that's what you wanted and needed, then she'd gladly do it.

Despite what her mind told her, Jessie began to pump faster into you. The bed jostled, but it didn't creak. The loudest thing was the sounds that came each time she withdrew to the tip before driving her full length back inside of you. A small grunt escaped her as she dug her fingers into your thigh.

"I love you," she panted above you. "God, you're amazing."

You kissed her hard, but pulled back with a breathy laugh.

"How many girls have you fucked in this bed?"

"Huh?" Jessie frowned, blinking as she processed your question though her hips didn't falter.

"I said," you grasped her chin gently and bit her lower lip, giving it a tug, "how many girls have you fucked in this bed?"

"N-none," she responded, a deeper frown etched on her forehead. You knew better. You knew her whole history. Including the fact that she didn't get laid until university.

"Well lucky me," you said, a lilt in your voice as you traced your tongue along her lip.

Jessie chuckled, finally leaning back, grasping your legs and holding them out - careful not to do so in a way that'd strain you. She looked down at you as she fucked you and a smug smirk crossed her face.

"You're the only one in a lot of ways, babe. Definitely all the ways that count." She told you. You bit your lip and she went on quietly. "The only girl my whole family's met. The only girl I've bought a house with. The only girl I've given a ring to. And certainly," she rolled her hips in emphasis as she let her hands caress your stomach, "the only girl I've given my baby to."

"Oh fuck," you said, your voice barely a whisper as you draped an arm across your eyes, "I'm gonna cum. Don't stop."

Jessie was nearly on the verge as well as she did as she was commanded. She saw the way you bit down on your lip and buried your head into the sheets. You were so close.

"Girls! Is everything okay? Is Y/N? alright?"

"Oh fuck," Jessie hissed and you bit back a groan as footsteps ascended the stairs. Her hips stuttered as she fought between throwing caution to the wind and just chasing your high and stopping altogether. She looked down at you and you'd begun playing with your clit, hips still rocking against her.

Her voice got caught in her throat as pleasurable sensations shot through her as you began to convulse around her, squeezing her tight as your pussy pulsed around her. Her mouth opened and she blinked rapidly as she fought to react.

"Yeah, we're fine!" She eventually managed, your fingers now circling around her base and urging her to cum. She shot you a bewildered look as that familiar tightening and rush began to mount between her legs. She winced as the footsteps continued to approach. "We'll be down in a minute!" She called through the door, praying her voice wasn't as strained as it seemed in her head.

You continued to rock against her and suddenly her tension hit a peak and her jaw fell as she began to spill herself inside of you.

"Okay. We paused the movie. Come down when you're ready," her mom called.

"Thank you! We'll be down soon," you called through the door, finally coming to Jessie's aid as she instinctively held her hips flush against you, cum still pulsing inside of you, eyes screwed shut, her shoulders high and tense in the midst of the conflict between her physical and mental self.

When she finally came down from her climax, she dropped to her knees on the floor and between your legs, chest heaving as she recovered.

"That was mean," Jessie said as she glowered at you.

"The cum you dumped inside of me tells me otherwise," you said lightly as you pushed yourself off of the bed and began to get dressed. Jessie kept her eyes narrowed at you as she watched you. With a heavy breath, she hoisted herself up off the ground and began getting changed as well. She didn't take her glare off of you the entire time.

You walked up to her, unbothered, and rest a soft hand on her cheek as you gave her a peck.

"Look at us, sneaking around like a couple of horny teenagers," you said with a teasing smile before giving a nonchalant shrug. "It's actually kind of fun."

-----------------

"Oh my God," you breathed as you fell into the couch cushions of the cottage you two were renting. Though you still had three months to go, your stomach had already grown enough that sometimes when you sat, you automatically sat with your legs wide to accommodate your bump that rest low above your hips.

"Are you okay?" Jessie asked as she set down the backpack from your hike onto the wooden floor with a light thud. She crossed over to you, crouching in front of you and gently kneading your leg.

"I'm fine," you sighed, allowing your eyes to fall shut as your hand came up and idly rubbed your stomach. "I think I just pushed it too much. It's so stupid - that hike wasn't even hard. It was a walk not a hike, yet my hips and my back are so sore."

"Baby, I'm sorry," Jessie said, a frown of concern settling on her face. "I shouldn't have picked that hike. And I should've checked in more."

"Stop," you said, head lolling languidly side to side in dissent. "I thought it'd be totally fine and you checked in; I just kept pushing." You opened your eyes to look at her, offering a faint smile. "I'm not in pain, I'm just a bit sore and uncomfortable."

She hummed quietly and rubbed your hips gently. You winced softly and her frown deepened.

"I'd run you a bath, but...," Jessie trailed off, gaze flitting away. Though beautiful, the one flaw with this rental was the failing hot water. It was lukewarm at best and ran cold within a few shorts minutes. She was beyond annoyed by it.

"It's okay, really," you assured her as you waved her attention off.

"Here, let me help you up. Go lay on the bed, I'll start a fire and I'll give you a massage," she offered. You cocked your head in contemplation before giving a slow nod. Jessie beamed. "Okay."

Soon, she had a fire roaring in the fireplace and you were naked on the bed with Jessie gently and meticulously working your muscles, laying soft sweet kisses on you now and then as she went.

"I'm telling you right now, nothing's happening tonight," you told her, eyes closed as you lay on your side, Jessie rubbing the small of your back. "I'm just too uncomfortable."

She held up a hand in mild defense. "Heard. Got it. No funny business. That is more than fine. I just want to make you feel better."

"K, thank you," you said as you blindly reached down, pawing until you found her hand. You lifted it to your lips, giving her a small kiss before releasing it and sighing as you settled in again.

Jessie carried on dutifully, truly just hoping to make you feel better. That is, until you reached back and started to caress her leg. She didn't think anything of it initially until you hand continued to wander higher up and inward when possible, fingers kneading into her muscles.

A frown settled on her face as she fought off the urges that were building between her legs. You began to moan softly at her ministrations, shifting slightly under her touch, and it was doing more to her than she cared to admit. However, the burgeoning hard-on forming in her shorts - the one that she was working to conceal from you - would give her away. She cleared her throat and refocused her attention on the wall, trying to think about anything but how good you looked and sounded.

With the fire roaring across the room, the light it cast against you accentuated your bump. She quietly observed the faint line that was forming from your naval to your pubic bone and the way the light danced across your skin.

It was such a strange sensation, a tingling in her chest upon seeing the way your body changed as the new life you two created grew within, and the way her arousal grew at knowing it was her who made you like this; that it was her you let transform you in this way.

"I changed my mind," you eventually said in a whine, legs rubbing together.

Jessie looked away, wondering what to do.

"About?" She asked innocently, though she was hopeful about what you were meant.

"You know what," you whined further, peeking an eye open at you.

"...you sure?" she asked apprehensively. "Cause there's no pressure at all."

"Your tented shorts tell me otherwise, baby," you said teasingly. Jessie blushed madly, closing her legs and timidly shuffling away from your prying eyes.

"Ignore that," she mumbled.

"I don't want to. I want it in me," you said resolutely, reaching back for her.

"Babe...," Jessie went on. "You're sore already."

"You took such good care of me. I feel better," you assured her. She gave you an unconvinced look and you implored. "I'm serious, baby. I want you."

Jessie hesitated further, but when you placed her hand between your legs, her fingers immediately being met with your arousal, she caved.

"Okay, but, you just stay like that, I don't want to strain you at all," she said as she took off her clothes and settled in behind you. She kissed the back of your shoulder and wrapped her arm around your stomach, thumbing it affectionately as she spooned you.

She continued laying slow, sensual kisses along the back of your shoulder, smirking at how you began to writhe in her arms.

"Baby, please."

She gave you one more lingering kiss before she pulled her hand back to line herself up with your entrance.

"Since you asked so nicely," she said, as she slowly entered you. You gasped softly as you reached a hand back over your shoulder to run your fingers through her hair.

"Mm, you feel so incredible every time," Jessie praised as she slowly drew back and pushed in again. She reached around your swollen midsection and placed her hand between your legs to gently play with your clit.

"Oh God, Jess," you said as you writhed under her touch. You moaned. "Mm, you feel so good inside of me." You leaned your head back into her and she pulled you closer as she pushed deeper inside of you.

She kissed along your back softly, your body rocking within her embrace as she made love to you in the warm glow of the nearby fire.

Eventually, Jessie propped herself up on her forearm to look down at you. As nice as it was to hold you in her arms, she missed seeing your face as you made love.

She shifted further, pulling out momentarily as she knelt, knees wide and now leaning over you, one arm behind you and one arm in front.

"Mmm," you complained, a frown on your face as you looked at her. "I liked being held by you." She kissed your shoulder as she lined herself up again.

"Let me try this," she said as she pushed inside.

You moaned as she sunk deep into you. In this new position, she was free to angle her hips better and a few strokes in, she began to pick up her pace, something she couldn't easily do before.

A renewed moan fell from your lips, your mouth dropping open as Jessie held herself up over you and began to thrust steadily and deeply inside of you, her hips free to bounce easily and quickly in this position, while still not adding weight or stress to your body.

"Oh shit," you panted as she fucked you with fervour, sweat starting to bead around her hairline.

"God, you look fucking beautiful," Jessie said as she stared down at you adoringly. "You look even more amazing carrying my baby than I even imagined."

Your hand came up to the back of her neck and you moaned heavily.

"I can't believe I waited so long to let you get me pregnant," you said, hand still caressing the back of her neck. Jessie groaned, eyes closing briefly.

"You know what that talk does to me," she said as her pace quickened slightly.

"It's crazy to think about," you went on. "Back when we first met - to think I was sitting across from the woman who - in a few years - I'd be underneath, legs spread, begging her to pump her baby into me."

"Christ," Jessie cursed as she gave a slight shake of her head, trying to hold back her orgasm which was now rapidly approaching as your words egged her on.

Your other hand came to your stomach and caressed it.

"We don't even have our first yet and I already want you to give me another."

"Babe," Jessie said desperately, her hands clenching into fists on the mattress. "I'm gonna cum if you keep that up."

"Do it. Cum inside of me, I want you to," you said as your fingernails dug into the back of her neck.

She didn't want to oblige, she hated cumming before you did. She balanced on one hand, returning the other to your clit, encouraged by how your eyes closed in pleasure and your sounds rose in pitch.

She felt a bead of sweat run down the side of her face and she panted in effort, but she knew you were close. When you finally clutched the sheets and a cry fell from your lips, she couldn't help herself and she came with a stunted moan, legs spreading wider as she angled and pushed herself as deep inside of you as she could.

"Fuck," she panted, head falling back as she looked up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly as wave after wave of pleasure shot through her as she emptied herself into you. As the last few drops drained out of her, she gave a couple of slow, prolonged thrusts before collapsing next to you, her arm draped over your midsection.

When she came to, she laid slow, gentle kisses along your waist and up your body, finishing at your flushed cheeks. Her heart swelled as she looked at you.

“I love you.”

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel. 

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish. 

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise. 

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet. 

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower. 

Purposeful. 

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?” 

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give. 

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone. 

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. “How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth. 

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long.  You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen. 

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half. 

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room. 

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control. 

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent. 

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[yelenasdiary]

4 year old R has a nightmare and doesn't want Nat she wants Wanda's comfort so Nat brings R from R's room to her room where Wanda is and Nat tells Wanda, "She wants you, I hope that's okay." And Wanda's heart just fucking soars that R wants her after a nightmare.

Nightmares

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter! Reader

Summary: When you’re woken up by a terrible nightmare, you ask Wanda to make the nightmare go away. 

Comfort

Warnings: None | 0.7K

AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope it’s okay that I changed Reader to 5 in this. Reader met Wanda when they’re 5 x 

A Widow’s Sunshine Masterlist

Soft sobs came from your bedroom when your mother woke to the sound of them, not wanting to wake Wanda, she quietly slipped out of bed and made her way to your room. She wasn't sure if this was a phase or maybe you had heard or seen something recently that had been causing you to wake up in the middle of the night in tears from a nightmare. Usually, you would crawl into bed with your mom and fall back asleep in her arms, but not tonight. 

"Sweetheart, is everything okay?" You heard your mother's voice standing over your bed. Slowly you pulled the covers off your head and shook a simple 'no' at her. Tears streaming down your face, breaking your mother's heart to see you in such a scared state. "Come here, baby" she said with open arms. You wasted no time jumping into her arms, feeling a sense of safety wash over you as you hugged her tightly. 

"Mommy" you said ever so softly as your mother rubbed your back gently. 

"Yes, my love?" She replied. You slowly pulled back to look at your mom, you loved her very much, but you wanted Wanda tonight, but you were worried to ask for her in case you'd upset your mother. "It's okay love, you can tell mommy all about your nightmare" your mom added, noticing something was on your mind. 

"C-can I have W-Wanda cuddles? Please?" you asked with a worried stutter. Nat smiled softly at your request; she loved knowing that you felt safe with Wanda. "Of course, baby, let's go see if we can wake her" your mother replied before walking you down to her room. 

Wanda was already awake, she heard Nat leave the room and was worried something was wrong. She smiled softly at Nat when she entered the bedroom with you wrapped in her arms, "she wants you, I hope that's okay" Natasha said softly.

"Of course it's okay" Wanda smiled, opening her arms to gently take you from your mother. You instantly wrapped your little arms around her and cuddled into the crock of her neck. "Oh my, was it another nightmare?" Wanda asked you; you nodded before pulling back a little to look up at her. "It was too scary!" You sobbed, Wanda naturally rubbing your back for comfort. 

"Do you want to know what I do when I have a nightmare?" Wanda asked, using her free hand to wipe your tears away, you nodded with a soft pout. "I take a big deep breath in" she started, you followed her actions and copied the way she took a deep breath in then exhaling, "Then I tell myself that it was just a scary dream, and it can't hurt me anymore" she added. 

"It was a scary dream, and it can't hurt me anymore" you repeated, already starting to feel better. 

"And if it was a super, super scary dream, I tell my brother about it and then he likes to make me laugh so I forget about the dream" Wanda explained, "was your dream super, super scary?" She asked. You nodded softly, "I was being chased by a crocodile with big wings!" You explained. Your mother kept quiet as she watched you tell Wanda all about your horrible dream. 

"That does sound super, super scary!" Wanda replied, "but guess what" she added. 

"What?" You questioned. 

"The tickle monster is coming to get you!" Wanda chuckled before she attacked you gently and tickled under your arms making you break out into loud laughter. "Help me mommy!!" You said while laughing, your mom chuckled, "sorry baby, I think the tickle monster won this match" she replied. 

Your laughter brought happiness to both Wanda and your mother and just like Wanda said, all that laughter made you forget that you had just had a bad dream. "I feel better now!" You boosted, "but…can I still sleep in here tonight? Please?" you asked. 

"Of course you can" your mother replied, shifting slightly to make room for you. 

"Now it's time for the cuddle monster!" Wanda added, helping you get under the covers. Natasha smiled softly at Wanda and mouthed "thank you" before the three of you got nice and cozy. 

"Goodnight mommy, goodnight, Wanda" you said softly before drifting off to sleep. 

"Goodnight, Y/n" Wanda smiled, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

"Goodnight darling" your mother whispered, making sure the covers were covering you. 

Wanda soon fell asleep shortly after you with an ever so soft smile on her lips that Natasha couldn't help but notice, she knew that Wanda would perish this moment forever and it was definitely a memory that Natasha wouldn't forget either.

Taglist: @koinsss | @liloandstitchstan | @marcia-maximoff | @skittlebum | @katethewritersblog | @taliiiaasteria | @nova-kyle | @daddipantherr | @riyaexee | @sgm616 | @elle161989 | @alphalesbianwolffoxdragontribrid | @mathxa | 

If you want to be on the taglist for this series, please see the masterlist. It's linked at the top of this post.

[llamagoddessofficial]

How would Farmer Sans handle hearing that MC was sick? Maybe they usually meet up a certain time while managing their morning chores and they’re just.. not there, only for him to later find that they’re bedridden

"hey, pumpkin."

The sound of Sans' voice, regardless of how soft it was, made you panic.

You sat bolt upright from your spot curled into the couch, jolting out of your strange fever dream. A cooling pack fell off your head, and a blanket you didn’t remember grabbing slipped from your shoulders to your lap.

Immediately, you could tell that you weren’t on your home couch. You didn’t recognise the blanket someone had tucked you under. You weren’t cold, you couldn’t smell the usual mix of dust and gradually fading damp - in fact, there were many wonderful scents mingling in the warm air, soup and tea and a sweet bread aroma that made your stomach rumble. 

It certainly wasn’t where you expected to wake up, after you fell asleep in front of the dodgy TV once the painkillers finally kicked in. This was someone else’s couch. And after a few bleary moments, you recognised it all. 

... It was Sans’ couch. You were in his house.

You looked up a little to see the man himself, as handsome as ever, leaning over the back of the sofa and looking at you. A gentle flicker of relief passed over his face. 

“rise and shine,” he said, voice as warm as the room. “how’re you feelin’?”

Huh? 

...

Your eyes widened. "S-Sans!?"

Bad decision. At such a sudden vocalisation, your body decided that was the perfect moment to send you into a horrendous coughing fit that made the inside of your throat feel like someone had gone at it with sandpaper.

Sans just put a big gentle hand on your back, letting you work through it, quiet as you hacked your lungs up.

Eventually the coughing eased off; once you had control of your body again, you turned your gaze back to him.

"Y-you...” Your cheeks were starting to burn. “why am I...?"

“you weren’t answerin’ the phone. i got worried.��� As he spoke, you kept messing with your shirt, nervously pulling it down over yourself. “came to check on you, an’ you were totally out of it, could barely answer me. i had to go work, but figured i should bring you somewhere me an’ pap can keep an eye on you.”

... Oh no. You put your hands over your face, slowly getting quieter and quieter as the situation dawned on you. “Y-you really didn’t need to...”

“course we did. ain’t safe for you to be so sick all on yer own.”

This was a nightmare. Now, on top of being sick, you were absolutely mortified at Sans seeing you in this state. Tired, achy, sweaty... you were dressed in a stained old shirt and pyjama pants, visibly unshowered and pretty much as ungroomed as one could get. You distinctly remembered throwing stuff on your floor before you fell asleep, too weak to get up and go put it in the garbage - empty blister packs and used, crumpled tissues. Did he see all your dirty trash when he came to find you?

You wanted to melt into the couch. He had seen you delirious and ill, at your absolute greasiest and grossest. Stars, what did he think of you now?

“I-I’ve been out for hours?” you asked.

“mhm.”

Your whole world was coming down around your ears. Why couldn’t Sans have just let you die at home, where no one would see your shame?

“you didn't tell me you were sick,” he said, so quietly you almost didn’t hear. There was a strangely... sullen edge to his tone? 

Your face was on fire. You had already intruded so much on him and his brother’s kindness over the last few weeks. Sans had repaired your stove and water pipes, bought you fresh food from the farm, helped fix a leak in the roof, not to mention when you asked him to stay the night like you were a frightened baby. Now here you were; being sick and disgusting right in the middle of his house. 

Before he could say anything else, you pushed the blanket off you, swinging your legs over the side of the couch and scrambling to your feet.

“I-I should get home,” you said, hoarse.

Immediately, Sans’ brows raised. You didn't look at him for long, walking unsteadily and trying your best to concentrate on not tipping over.

“I’m so sorry to intrude. I’ll just-”

... Your feet went out from underneath you. 

You squeaked, loudly - but Sans didn’t care, he scooped you up like you didn’t weigh a thing. To him, you probably didn’t weigh a thing. You could feel his massive strength through his clothes, and you immediately knew that if he wanted to, he could’ve thrown you straight into the air like a child.

You couldn’t tell if it was the height that was dizzying, how close your face was to his, or if you were just way weaker right now than you realised. But immediately your hands balled in his shirt.

"... easy," he murmured, one arm under your thighs. "i don't bite."

... Your face filled with so much heat it felt as if the tips of your ears were going to set alight. You tried to say something, but when you opened your mouth, literally nothing came out. Not a sound. All you could do was hold on to his shoulders.

Sans’ voice became normal again, jokingly stern. “sorry. not goin’ anywhere on my watch, pet. you need to rest. look at you - yer burnin' up.”

Your whole body had tensed up. But not out of fear. You just stared into his eyelights.

He very gently sat you back down onto the couch, putting the cold pack into your hands. “you stay right there, ok? i’ll getcha some soup. it should be ready by now.”

"O-ok," you helplessly replied.

Sans moved away, disappearing into the kitchen.

...

There wasn't much else you could do, but lay down and put the cooling pack back on your head... trying to figure out how to make your heart slow down.

[b1rds3ye]

I have to HC Simon is hella expressive under his mask because he really never has to worry about schooling his expressions; the mask does it for him. So picture it - he sees his work crush in the grocery store and immediately hides. Face, neck, ears bright red. (I also HC that he's got the mask off if he's off duty for extended periods of time.) All of a sudden, you're right behind him super excited to learn you live near each other and he just CANT get a grip. Can you picture it? Cause I can picture it, and I'm as soft a fucking pillow about it lol

AYO I CAN TOTALLY SEE THAT. Even with the mask, we’ve seen Simon be super expressive, he throws a nasty side-eye, has a death stare that would make anyone cry but have you seen the zoom up on his eyes?? They’re actually the sweetest puppy eyes sometimes oh my gOD-

Personally, I feel off-duty Simon still wears a mask for anonymity and also not to worry about pulling a funny face in public (man's being covid safe what a legend) but then there will be one day he forgets. And that will be the one day he runs into you and he knows fate is playing some stupid trick on him. He's so conflicted, he wants to hang around the vicinity (he usually just lets himself be found by you so he can get the small ego boost of you approaching him), but conversely there's nothing flattering about his face looking like a cooked lobster with how red it is. The rush of embarrassment overrides his want to see you and he's ducking behind aisles, hoping you'll get distracted by the rack of lollies that's fifty percent off. But of course you don't, you're far too stubborn, and you track him down throughout the grocery store.

"You alright Simon?" He hears your voice directly behind him in no time. Do you bloody teleport now? Seeing your face contorted in such concern has him reeling, wanting to snap out in denial that no, his face is not that red because he's found you.

"Sunburn," Simon grumbled and he's mentally slapping himself because Manchester hasn't seen a ray of sun for the last damn month. And you must've known that too because you're cocking an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh and for once in his life Simon feels like an absolute muppet.

"Yeah, alright. It's nice to see you too," you snicker. You eye the items in his shopping cart, undoubtedly questioning the lack of diversity in his diet and Simon is genuinely hoping at this point that the earth will swallow him up whole.

"Hey," you clear your throat, eyes trained on his trolley cart, but no longer for scrutinising. If he hadn't trained for literal years to keep his composure, he'd likely be cupping your cheeks and cooing over your bashful expression as you struggled to get your next words out. But no, instead his composure is fully invested into desperately pummeling down the blood in his cheeks.

"I live pretty near here. If you want, you're more than welcome to come for dinner or a cup of tea? You like that, right?"

Good grief, his blush wasn't going to go down anytime soon.

[hcsiqs]

Can you do “"Come back to bed." With Caitlin pls? 💌 tysm<33

| OH YOU KISSED ME, JUST TO KISS ME

• pairing: caitlin clark x reader

• prompt: “come back to bed”

• warnings: talks abt sex the previous night

As you moved around in bed and your eyes started to flutter open you realized that the sun was already out. You felt a sense of urgency rush through your body as you attempted to quickly but quietly get off of Caitlin.

You promised your friend you would meet her for coffee around 7, but once you looked at your phone you noticed it was 9:30 and there were many missed messages and calls from her.

You hadn’t realized how tired staying up with Caitlin all night would’ve made you, and it was safe to say you weren’t thinking about your coffee meet up during that time.

You scurried to pick out random clothes and try to throw them on, but during this whole time you had failed to realize Caitlin had woken up and was just watching you from your guys bed.

As you threw on a random shirt you heard her voice and jumped at the sudden sound, “Come back to bed,” she whined, sitting up in the bed and looking at you with a pout on her lips.

“I can’t,” you frowned, “I promised a friend I’d meet them and I’m so late,” you put on biker shorts and then clipped your earrings in.

“How late?” Caitlin sat on the bed trying to keep her eyes open but all she wanted to do was you get you back in the bed with her.

“2 hours,” you cringed at yourself for completely letting your previous commitment slip your mind due to your girlfriend.

“They’re not gonna be there anymore, so I think you should come back to bed,” she smiled, turning her head to the side to look at you better.

You knew she was right, and had even seen the text of your friend saying they had left the coffee shop when you didn’t show after 30 minutes. “I need to make it up to them though. I feel really shitty,” you sighed, running your hands over your face as the front of your legs met the bed.

“Having them wait five more minutes won’t be the end of the world,” Caitlin moved forward in the bed so that she was now right in front of you, still under the covers. Her hands came up to your legs as she rubbed the backs of your thighs trying to make you come back to bed.

“Cait,” you looked down at her, her hazel eyes meeting your own.

“You’re gonna have to plan a whole new hang out, so just come back to bed please.”

You let out a deep breath before nodding your head, “10 minutes,” you got into the bed with her, your head laying against her chest as her hands raked through your hair.

“Thank you,” she placed a kiss to your forehead as her other hand came down to your leg to pull it over her body.

“Mhm,” you hummed, allowing yourself to let your eyes flutter shut. Caitlin was the best pillow in the world to you and you wished you could stay like this forever. “Maybe I’ll just reschedule for another day and we can stay like this,” you whispered, digging your head into the crook of her neck.

“I’d like that.”

[knavesflames]

since we are both sick in the head, i request biker arle headcanons (both sfw and nsfw)

oouuhhh thinking about biker arle who looks all intimidating and has tattoos showing up to your doorstep with flowers and melts when shes around you

im gonna throw up

thankyouiloveyoubyee

We truly are sick in the head. Literally what is it about this woman that has us in such a chokehold actually it’s so stupid but UGH. I have not once simped over a fictional woman as hard as this. Anyway, screaming, crying, throwing up at the thought of her

Anyone notice the references to a couple people in server?

Word count: 1159

Contents: fluff, soft arle, she’s scary but she’s not

Fluff utc!

Arlecchino. Everyone knows her. Who wouldn’t know the biker filled with tattoos, going around cursing like a sailor and never being seen without that stupid motorbike? She’s scary, intimidating. Even the grown adults shy away when they hear the familiar engine from afar, or refuse to look at her when she grumbles out that she wants to buy coffee. Even the store owner who supplies her parts for her bike and accessories for her stumbles over his words when she says she wants a new helmet. This one just doesn’t make her hair look nice when she takes it off, she says. The store owner is too intimidated to correct her, and tell her that it is not, in fact, the helmet’s fault.

The people in town also seem to be a little wary around you, too. They seem to know that if they say the wrong thing, or cause your face to fall or crumple, or cause tears to fall from your pretty eyes, that they’ll soon be facing the wrath of Arlecchino. Nobody seems to understand how you managed to break through her walls, how someone like you, so opposite Arlecchino, has her melting. Everyone sees it. Do they comment on it? Do they want to face her piercing glare, and whatever else she would do? Not a chance. It’s a little comical, though, seeing someone so tough looking, waiting outside of a store holding your cat, holding her in her arms while she feeds it treats every so often, going so far as to buy and place a bandana around her neck to surprise you. She does this all with a straight face, of course. It’s second nature to her, she’ll do anything for that smile of yours, the same smile that makes her feel like her insides have been set ablaze, makes her feel like a blushing teenager all over again.

You yourself think it’s adorable. Walking out of the store to see her holding your beloved cat (you joke that the cat is more important than her to see her pout) (you reassure her straight after that they’re on the same level, just to watch her pale cheeks flush a light pink). In reality, she makes you melt just as much. You have to hide the grin forming on your face when she speaks to you in that stoic voice she always has.

“Look. She looks dashing, I think. Matches my bike. I should get her a helmet.. I will ask someone to custom make one, I can take her on rides.” You cut her off immediately with an “absolutely not. My cat is not riding on a motorcycle.”

“Oh. Okay. I am still getting her a helmet. I want us to match.” She responds, her face completely blank, which makes everything funnier. You stand on your toes to kiss her cheek, pretending you don’t see the way her eyes widen. “My two favourite beings staying safe, wonderful.”

Even the notion that she’s one of your favourite things has her turning on her heel to conceal the ever growing blush on her face. She finds herself blushing often when she’s around you, she realises. She realises also that her words falter when you tell her to not speed, to make sure she’s wearing the correct material, that no, she doesn’t need to try and look sexy, that you find her the sexiest when she’s wearing the correct things.

She’s out riding for longer than usual, this time. The evening is dragging on, and she ALWAYS texts you when she’s home. She knows how you worry.

She is, actually, finished with her evening ride. Riding her bike as the sun sets is freeing for her. She likes to picture all of the negative shit being left in the wind as she drives. This evening, however, she drove past a field. A field decorated with different wild flowers she just knows you’d love. So, she slows to a stop, parking her bike in a way she knows won’t get it damaged. Her bike is her prized possession, second to you. She wades through the flowers, finding the best ones, slicing the stalk with her nails, the ones she kept long and not filed blunt (for your sake, of course). She grumbles to herself when the ovule gets under her nails. Once she deems the small bouquet good enough, she drives to you. Stopping just a little ways from you, she ties her boot lace around the stalks of the flowers, tying a clumsy bow. Arlecchino being Arlecchino, fixes herself as best as she can before she finds her feet moving towards your door.

When you rush to open the door after hearing her familiar knocking pattern, your own words falter for once. There she is. Stood in that shirt she KNOWS shows off her arms and the tattoos she knows you love, stood in those jeans she and you know all too well shows off her ass. She’s caught you staring, it’s the reason she wears them. And in her hand sits a messy, slightly wilted bouquet of flowers, clearly handpicked, hand cut (or rather, nail cut, you can see the residue under her nails), tied clumsily with a boot lace of all things.

“Here,” she mutters, “I thought you’d like these. Sorry they’re all.. weird.” You’re silent for a few seconds before she speaks again, a little defeat in her tone as she glances away, a sad frown twisting at her features despite her attempting to hide it. “Never mind. It was stupid. They’re ugly now, anyway. Have a good night.”

She goes to turn, but your hand shoots out and wraps around her bicep before she can leave. “Stop it. I love them. I don’t know what to say because you’re so.. adorable.”

“I’m what.” Her voice almost sounds shocked, if it wasn’t for the rough attempt at stoicism. She never thought she’d be called adorable in her life. She’s not meant to be adorable. She doesn’t want to be adorable. Her insides say otherwise, when she sees your soft eyes, filled with small tears, and your eyebrows furrowed in a look of pure adoration. You snatch the flowers before she can take them away, immediately walking into your home and placing them in a vase in the middle of your living room. She watches, straight faced, no indication of her feelings until she huffs, her face bright red.

“Turn on the air condition. It’s fucking hot in here. Where’s that kitty of yours, I want to see if she liked the fox toy I bought her.”

You look at her once more, a giggle rising in your throat as you tilt your head towards the cat tower, your eyes following as she moves towards it. You realise just how much you love this woman. At the same time, she realises she probably wants to spend her life with you, if you’d let her.

[defectivevillain]

slashers & thrillers

individual pairings: Reader/Demon Brothers, Barbatos, Diavolo, Simeon, and Solomon

It's horror movie night at the House of Lamentation!

reader's race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors used.

word count: 4.2k | ao3 version

this was just my excuse to write horror movie headcanons for the characters. there, i said it.

warnings: blood/violence/gore typical of horror movies; slight angst in Simeon and Diavolo's parts

Asmodeus tends to be more preoccupied with the attractiveness of the actors than the story itself. In fact, he often forgets that you’re watching *horror* movies, as he usually enjoys watching romance films. Sometimes you’ll catch him leaning forward when two characters are in close proximity, only to flinch and fall backwards when the villain evidently appears. 

And, safe to say, showing him the Friday the 13th films is a huge mistake. You had forgotten the sheer amount of nudity and sex in the first movie until Asmodeus was dazedly remarking, “I like this movie.” You shake your head in disbelief. 

It’s rather surprising to learn that he enjoys the gore. You wouldn’t have necessarily seen him as the type, but he’s often leaning closer to the screen when people are being ripped apart. You want to joke that he may be part vampire, but you know that he’s just fascinated with the grotesque. Surprisingly, he even enjoys the films with monsters in them—especially if they’re rather unsightly and have sharp teeth or slime. It’s oddly touching (albeit in a weird way) that he can find beauty in the most unlikely of places.

Beelzebub is just there for the snacks. He doesn’t really care about horror movies one way or another. He’ll often leave to get snacks and never return. One night, you track him down after to ask if he disliked the movie, only for him to blink at you owlishly and go, “What movie?” He’ll see the way your face contorts slightly at his answer and try to remember. “Oh, right! It was good, I was just hungry.” Beelzebub admits. Your lips quirk at the edges. 

“We should just watch it in the kitchen next time,” you respond playfully. Despite the fact that the suggestion is clearly a joke, Beelzebub brightens at the idea. You resist the urge to laugh at his reaction, instead trying to think about how you could keep him in the room longer. “Maybe we need a popcorn machine or something, huh? A spare fridge?”

Beelzebub is practically salivating at the mention of a spare fridge in the room where you watch movies. He nods excitedly, neglecting the food in his hands to reach out and give you a hug. You happily embrace him back, glad that he doesn’t feel left out or guilty for leaving.

Belphegor falls asleep nearly every time. It doesn’t matter how gory or violent the movie is—by the time it’s nearing the end, he’ll be peacefully sleeping. It’s honestly a pretty impressive skill, considering the sheer volume of the movie and the chaos occurring all around him. After all, with all his brothers, you, Diavolo, Simeon, Solomon, and Barbatos, you’re sort of a rowdy group. 

Belphegor usually sits next to you, so you often end up with his head slumped on your shoulder at some point throughout the movie. You can’t find yourself to be bothered by it—he’s a peaceful sleeper and doesn’t make so much as a single sound. His brothers, on the other hand, are rambunctious as ever. They often bicker about whether they should wake Belphie up or not, but you violently shush them and they eventually let it go. 

One time, you’re so engrossed in the movie that you don’t notice Mammon and Satan trying to throw popcorn at Belphie until you’re promptly hit in the face with a kernel. You blink and look over at them, watching as they try and fail to hide your laughter. You then glance over at Belphegor, only to find that he has a few kernels stuck in his hair. Feeling strangely sympathetic, you pick them out and throw them back at Mammon and Satan. 

If there’s a movie Belphegor really enjoys, he’ll make sure to drink some caffeine before watching—so that he doesn’t fall asleep. He will still lean into your shoulder and act as if he’s an unmoving pile of limbs, but he’ll watch with unusually rapt attention. You haven’t quite picked up on the pattern between the movies he likes, but you hope to learn more as time passes.

Levi’s interest really depends on the movie. He enjoys the stories that are fleshed-out and have compelling characters; slasher films without much plot tend to bore and irritate him. If he doesn’t like the movie, he’ll often pull out his gaming console on low brightness and start playing that. Sometimes, if you find a film boring too—which is usually a rarer occurrence—you’ll rest your head on his shoulder and watch him play. Levi will let you, but if he loses or messes up, he’ll often blame it on you. He gets strangely embarrassed in those moments, as if ashamed of letting you see him fail. At that point, you’ll try to lift your head off his shoulder and give him some space, but he’s quick to tug you back and insist you watch him try again. 

If he is watching the movie, Levi is prone to letting out sarcastic and spiteful comments like Mammon—especially when he doesn’t like it. The two of them together are a pretty lethal combination, and they often render a bad film to a complete dumpster fire by the end. 

Truthfully, Levi enjoys psychological thrillers. There are a few of his favorites—and when you watch those, he’s practically shaking at your side as he resists the urge to explain the story, characters, and everything to you. You nudge him on the shoulder, encouraging him to speak. He’ll spend at least ten minutes of the movie whispering the details to you. And when Mammon turns around and hushes you both, you promptly throw the nearest object at him and urge Levi to continue.

Lucifer is a bit difficult to read. You can’t tell if he’s here to watch over his brothers or watch the movie. You suppose it could be both. He’s often tagging along to events like these, even if it seems as if he doesn’t want to be there. 

On the rare occasions that you find yourself near him, you always have a strange urge to make conversation with him. Whether it’s to reassure yourself that he’s not bored out of his mind or to make him more comfortable, you’re not sure. One time, you look pointedly to the main character on-screen, who is making their way through a dark cavern alone. “If you were ever in that situation-” You ask Lucifer, trying to make conversation. 

“I wouldn’t be,” Lucifer responds with almost unfounded confidence.

“But if you ever were-” You try to interject.

“I wouldn’t be.” He says with a prideful finality. 

“You’re just too good for the entire genre, huh?” You huff. Lucifer smiles knowingly and stares at the screen. He almost seems to relax after your small conversation; you swear you see his shoulders slowly lose their previous tension. 

Lucifer is often watching his brothers more than the movie itself. He’s always been the unofficial caretaker—and that role is never more apparent than during nights like these. He’s often anticipating fights before they happen; getting up to fetch things for his brothers when they need them; talking to them when they seem to feel off. You admire how much he cares for his siblings, but you always feel a little guilty. It never seems as if he has the chance to actually enjoy himself. 

At least, that’s what you think. But after one night, he pulls you aside and thanks you for organizing the event. You can’t quite control your thoughts at that moment. “It didn’t seem like you were enjoying yourself.” You immediately freeze and stare at him helplessly. 

Lucifer laughs goodnaturedly. “I appreciate your concern,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “My brothers are enjoying themselves. To see them so carefree… means more to me than you could ever know.”

“Oh,” you respond, feeling slightly foolish and embarrassed now. As if sensing your quickly spiraling thoughts, Lucifer squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. 

“Besides, seeing Mammon’s reaction was worth it.” Lucifer smirks. 

“It was, wasn’t it?” You smile in return. “He was talking such a big game earlier, too… Saying he wouldn’t be scared…” You think back to the way he flailed and screamed at the jump scare, practically hiding behind the couch. 

Lucifer’s hand falls from your shoulder and he pulls out his phone, tapping it a few times before showing you. Upon closer investigation, you find a picture of Mammon and him: with Mammon recoiling backwards in evident fear while Lucifer looks on with a blank expression. 

“That’s incredible,” you laugh. “Send that to me; I want it as my wallpaper.” 

“Will do,” Lucifer hums, clearly amused. He pockets his phone and studies you for a moment. His expression morphs into his typical stoicism, but with a hint of something uncharacteristic. Concern, perhaps? “Get some rest.”

“You too,” you respond. Lucifer nods and departs, leaving you to stand in the hall with a fuzzy feeling in your chest.

Mammon is the type to yell at the characters as if they can hear him. He’s often berating them for their stupid decisions and making sarcastic comments once they encounter the villain. He can be quite the talker, to the point where his brothers are frequently hissing at him to be quiet. Mammon will then cross his arms and pout exaggeratedly, until you tell him that he can just whisper his comments to you. 

He has somewhat dramatic reactions to the movie and its jump scares. Sometimes, you’ll catch him and Mammon will immediately stiffen, muttering something about how he was just acting. It’s never very convincing and he seems to know it, if the flush on his cheeks is anything to go by. 

Mammon enjoys seeing the cruel or vicious characters getting what they deserve. He’ll often be the one cheering when a filthy rich, abusive businessman gets cut in half or a criminal gets their eyes torn out. It’s amusing to see him so passionate, even if his glittering eyes and excited smile seem a bit misplaced. 

He also tends to brag about how he’d survive or fight through a situation the character is going through. Mammon is adamant that he wouldn’t take shit from anyone, ever, and it’s very amusing. He’s often pretending as if he’s in the scene himself, throwing fake punches with exaggerated sound effects. Mammon is a very active movie watcher, ultimately. It’s endearing most of the time, but when a movie is very quiet and requires you to really pay attention… Well, you often have to watch it again at a later date. 

Satan is infuriatingly knowledgeable about the specifics of horror movies: especially the medical practicalities. A needle jabbed into the neck of a person is enough to make him throw his hands up in the air in disbelief; a sacrificial cut to the palm will make him flip a table. “That’s not how it works!” He’ll hiss. 

“It’s fiction, you’re supposed to suspend your disbelief a little,” you try to remind him. This only makes him turn his infuriated attention towards you. 

“Oh, right,” he scoffs. “Because it’s totally smart to go to a hairdresser where someone was just murdered. This is stupid!”

“Satan, shut up!” You hiss, pointedly gesturing at the others, who are very engrossed in the movie. The two of you keep bickering for a while, until Mammon gets pissed and pauses the movie, chewing you both out and ordering you out of the room. (The irony of him telling you both to keep it down is not lost on you.) Satan and you exchange annoyed glances before you’re being pushed out of the room and sentenced to sitting in the hallway like two elementary students being disciplined. 

You adjust your posture and let your head fall back against the wall. “That movie was stupid,” you eventually acquiesce. Satan looks at you in disbelief, clearly not expecting you to concede the point. He was right, though. It made virtually no sense. It was just gore without plot. 

“Yeah,” Satan agrees after a second. “It really was.”

You tap your fingers restlessly against the ground. An awkward silence descends across the space, before you find yourself breaking through it. “Do you think Cat’s Eye is still open?” You ask. Offering to go to Satan’s favorite café seems like a pretty good peace offering. 

Indeed, Satan blinks for a moment, before a grin rises on his face. “It better be open.” He gets to his feet, walking over to you. Satan then offers you a hand and you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. You walk through the halls and head outside to where the car is parked. Satan promises to drive and jumps into the front seat, a devilish smirk on his face. You sit in the passenger’s seat and pretend not to feel nervous… but it only takes moments for the reality of the situation to set in.

“...Lucifer’s going to kill us.” You realize aloud. He hates when you leave unannounced; as the eldest brother, he feels responsible for your safety, too. 

“Yep.” Satan smirks, looking thrilled at the prospect. 

Barbatos is just grateful to be there. It’s hard for him to escape the feeling that he’s just a third wheel… but you went out of your way to extend an invite to him specifically. If the other brothers are surprised by his presence, they don’t show it. Diavolo just raises his eyebrows at him, which Barbatos pretends not to notice. 

As for the movie itself… Even without his powers, Barbatos is usually able to intuit what will happen. He tends to keep his suspicions to himself, but one time he mutters something under his breath and a few of the brothers hear. Since then, they seem excited to test his theories. 

He doesn’t react to jump scares. At all. Even if he’ll truly be scared or frightened by something, Barbatos will remain stock-still with an unaffected expression on his face. When the brothers notice this, they soon take to attempting to scare him outside of movie nights. Unsurprisingly, their efforts never work. No matter how many times Mammon pops out from behind a corner or Asmodeus appears out of thin air, Barbatos is never affected.

“They’re never going to scare you, huh?” You ask him one time, after Mammon jumped out from behind a door and screamed loudly at him. Admittedly, it scared the shit out of you—but it didn’t even phase Barbatos. Mammon had departed after that, clearly conflicted between feeling proud of scaring you and disappointed for not scaring the demon. 

“I don’t think so,” Barbatos responds, a hint of amusement gracing his features. “But it’s fun to see them try.”

“Wow, that’s brutal,” you remark, unable to suppress your laughter. “It is funny to see them fail, though.” Barbatos is silent all of a sudden. You feel your lips rising into a smile. “What, now you’re going to deny it? Come on, it’s fun to mess with them.”

He’s still quiet. You feel strangely determined to break through his professionalism, to get a glimpse of the real Barbatos. “You can tell me, I won’t tell anyone. Hell, I live with them—if anyone gets it, it’s me.” You try to persuade him. 

Barbatos averts his eyes for a moment, as if making eye contact with you is growing to be too much for him. “Very well,” he acquiesces. “It is… amusing to mess with them.”

“There you go,” you smile, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You feel strangely proud of yourself for getting him to say it. 

Barbatos shakes his head in disbelief, a bit of color rising to his cheeks. “You are insufferable.”

Diavolo really enjoys himself at these movie nights. It’s not often that he can sneak away from his work—and few people treat him as a normal person. This movie night is refreshingly mundane. Here, he doesn’t have to be Lord Diavolo. He can just be Diavolo.  

He likes the movies too. Truthfully, he didn’t have much of a childhood: this is the first time he’s ever watched a movie. Diavolo doesn’t want to make that big of a deal about it, and he tells Lucifer as much as they’re talking in lowered voices. But then you whip around, somehow hearing him, and stare at him in disbelief. 

“You’ve never watched a movie?” You ask quietly from over the back of the couch. Fortunately, in the chaos of having all the brothers in the same room, the remark goes unheard. 

Diavolo stares at you for a moment, before looking to Lucifer for assistance. But Lucifer is just watching the exchange between the two of you, clearly unsurprised by your persistence. Diavolo rolls his eyes, before turning his attention towards you. “That’s correct.”

You stare at him for several seconds, studying his face. Lucifer is still sitting there, clearly sensing the tension but not making any move to diffuse it. It’s almost as if he’s amused by Diavolo’s suddenly precarious situation. Before Diavolo can muse on that thought any longer, Mammon and Satan are fighting—leaving Lucifer to walk off and break them up. 

“You’ve really never watched a movie?” You ask again, as if you genuinely can’t believe it.

“That’s what I said.” You can sense that he doesn’t want to talk about it, but you do get up from your seat and move to sit next to him. Diavolo chances a sidelong glance at you, confused. “What are you doing?” He eventually asks. 

“Sitting next to you,” you answer, as if the answer is obvious. “This is your first movie, I want to see how you like it.”

“Okay,” Diavolo frowns. 

“You don’t really seem like the horror type, but who knows?” You mutter to yourself, just barely loud enough for him to hear. Diavolo arches a brow and stares at you, expecting you to retract the remark. You just stare back at him unflinchingly, and he’s reminded of one of the many reasons why he likes you so much. You aren’t afraid of him. You treat him as if he’s a regular person. “You can pick the movie next time.” You offer. “Even if it’s not horror.”

“Thanks.” Diavolo says, not quite sure how to feel about what’s happening. On the one hand, you’re sitting next to him and conversing with him as a friend would. On the other, he can see you occasionally looking at him from the corner of your eye—as if seeing him in a new light. Somehow, Diavolo gets the feeling that you’ve intuited what his childhood was like. And that’s something he’s hidden from everyone in the room, save for Barbatos. 

Diavolo can’t shake the instinctual dread that’s assaulting his chest, as he imagines you worming your way into his heart and prying all of his secrets out of him. He’s seen the way you’ve interacted with the brothers—how you’ve grown closer with each and every one of them, despite their unwillingness. He knows it will likely only be a matter of time before you’re becoming a staple figure in his life, too. While before, he would’ve jumped at the chance to get to know you better, he finds himself in a strange balancing act. Diavolo can’t lie to you—he promised himself never to lie to others—but, at the same time, he can’t deny the appeal of closing off and remaining the elusive Headmaster. By all means, he should be nothing more than an acquaintance to you. Yet, here you are, sitting next to him during movie night and looking at him as if you’re actually worried for him, the future ruler of the Devildom. 

Diavolo doesn’t know how to feel about any of it. He doesn’t know how to feel about you. You’re igniting feelings within him that he had sworn off of. 

You must sense his racing thoughts, because you lean over to whisper to him. “You don’t have to talk about it,” you reassure him. He can feel the body heat practically radiating off of you. Humans are strange. “Just know that I’m here. If you ever need someone to listen.” You say, before leaning back and enforcing the distance between the two of you once more. 

Feeling strangely appreciative, Diavolo nods silently—pushing past the unfamiliar burning feeling in the back of his throat.

Simeon hates horror movies. He’s troubled by the violence and gore. You don’t realize this until it’s a bit too late—until he’s leaving the room with a flimsy excuse and not returning. After a few minutes, you decide to go looking for him. You eventually find him standing on one of the balconies outside, staring off into the distance. His shoulders are drawn tight and he looks tense. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask him as you approach. He almost flinches, before glancing back to find you and relaxing.

“Of course,” he responds deceptively. Simeon is rather adept at keeping his composure, but you’ve grown to know him better and are able to understand what he’s thinking. You frown and chance a sidelong glance at him, noticing the firm draw to his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” you hear yourself say. Your chest feels tight and you feel terribly guilty for not having the forethought to consider how violence and gore would distress him. 

“For what?” Simeon asks, his brows furrowing as he continues staring ahead. 

“I should’ve figured you wouldn’t like horror movies,” you frown. “Being an angel and all.”

Simeon just takes a shuddering breath. He’s shaking slightly, you realize. Concerned, you reach out and place a hand on his—which is gripping the railing of the balcony with an unnecessary amount of force. With your support, he slowly loosens his grip. You’re sure he must have bolts of pain sliding up and down his fingers, but he doesn’t show any sign of feeling it. 

You squeeze his hand for a moment, feeling helpless. For a moment, Simeon doesn’t respond verbally; then, he extends his arms and hugs you. You’re quick to reciprocate, secretly surprised that he’s initiating the contact.  “I’m sorry.” You murmur again. 

“You apologize a lot,” he chokes out. 

“Says the angel,” you huff in amusement. You pull back for a moment, worried by the uncharacteristic tone of his voice. To your surprise, there are tears falling down his cheeks. You swallow past your remorse and take a slow breath, bringing your hands up to cradle his face and wiping his tears away with your thumbs.

“You should get back,” Simeon says, a note of something unreadable in his voice. “The brothers will be worried.”

“They can be worried.” You say with an amused smile. They’re not the ones who need you right now. “They’ll survive.” 

“Doubtful,” Simeon responds, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. He’s grateful you stayed.

Solomon isn’t the biggest fan of horror movies in particular, but he enjoys spending time with you—especially doing “human” activities. It’s refreshing to do ordinary things—to maintain an air of normalcy, even when surrounded by demons and angels. It helps calm him down from the day’s events, from the pressure he sometimes threatens to buckle under. 

As it turns out, the Devildom’s horror movies are kind of bad. The two of you have to convince Lucifer—and later Diavolo—to let you snag some classics from the human world. This is how Solomon and you find yourselves standing in the middle of a superstore, sifting through a bin of clearance DVDs. 

“Will these even work with Devildom tech?” You realize aloud. You make sure to keep your voice down so any other humans don’t hear you. Solomon stares at you for a moment. 

“That’s a good question,” he huffs. “I guess we’ll find out.” 

You shrug and continue sorting through the seemingly endless pile of DVDs. The majority of the movies are rather old, but you glimpse Halloween out of the corner of your eye and immediately grab it excitedly. 

“What’d you find?” Solomon asks, evidently sensing your growing anticipation. 

“Halloween!” You respond. 

He looks down at the DVD in your hand and frowns. “Never heard of it,” he hums. 

“What?” You choke out. “You haven’t heard of it? It’s one of the most iconic horror movies of all time.” Solomon just shakes his head. You find yourself shaking your head in return, although your head shake is born out of disappointment. “I thought you were a human,” you say sarcastically. 

“Okay, low blow,” Solomon responds, clearly amused. “And, what, I’m not a human unless I know every movie ever made?”

“No, of course not!” You roll your eyes. “But Halloween? Seriously? Next you’re going to say you’ve never heard of Silence of the Lambs.” He doesn’t respond. “For real? How? Don’t you like The Quietude of the Black Lambs? It’s pretty much a plagiarized version!” 

Solomon throws his hands up in mock-surrender. “Okay, okay,” he says, attempting to calm you down. “I didn’t realize this was such a big deal for you.”

“It’s a huge deal,” you respond exaggeratedly. “We’ll have to fix this immediately. With a full night movie marathon, when we get back.”

Solomon just sighs. It appears you’ve adopted the brothers’ stubbornness.

thanks for reading! <3

check out my other works, sorted by fandom.

general taglist: @its-ares @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @kingkoku @the-ultimate-librarian @gayaristocrat

friendly reminder that i don't give permission for my writing to be shared to other sites, stolen, copied, translated, or used in any way. thanks!

[atinylittlepain]

okay i have a joel request!! so yknow in the game where joel pushes ellie into the water as a joke, how about that situation with reader while they’re just playing around and reader pretends to drown or like not come back up to the surface to get back at him LOL and he’s just not happy

hey there! i love this idea, i did give it a lil of my own twist bc i like to write a very grumpy Joel lol - i hope you like it :)

Splash

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

She's just trying to get him to lighten up, but Joel is far from amused.

warnings | 18+ angst, allusions to smut, joel is a stinker

......................

“C’mon.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Joel–”

“No. We’re supposed to be on patrol, not fucking around.” She huffs, turning heel and traipsing further away from him and closer to the lake they had just come across. It’s the middle of the summer, and even up in the mountains, the heat is nearly stifling, especially as they’ve been hiking around on patrol for the last three hours. 

She kneels down at the water’s edge, dipping her hand into the lake. The water is refreshingly cool, and sends a shiver down her spine. She looks over her shoulder at Joel, who’s standing with his arms crossed over his chest, a pursed look on his face as he squints at her. Rolling her eyes, she stands, dropping her rifle down alongside her as she starts to toe off her boots and peel off her shirt. She can hear him scoff behind her.

“What’re you doing?” Now bare from the waist up, she turns to look at him, enjoying his wide eyes and slack expression as he takes in her figure, like it isn’t the thousandth time he’s seen her like this. 

“Our shift’s almost over and we haven’t seen a damn thing. I’m hot and tired and I’m gonna cool off in the lake. You don’t wanna join me? Fine. You can stay scowling like that and keep watch, Miller.” Before he can reply, she’s already turning back around, shucking off her pants and underwear in one brisk tug. She hears him gruffly sigh her name, but she gives it no acknowledgement, wading out into the lake until she can float lazily in the deepest part. It really does feel good, the cool water easing her aching muscles. She tips her head back, letting out a moan of relief, her eyes fluttering shut. When she cracks one eye open, she sees that Joel has sidled up along the water’s edge, his scowl softened into a little pout as he watches her.

“Just get in, Joel. Feels so good.” She can just barely hear his grumbles as she watches him sit down at the edge of the lake.

The moment she has the idea, she knows it’s mean, cruel even. But she’s sick of him taking everything so goddamn seriously. They’ve been living in Jackson for months now, the most comfortable and safe situation they’ve probably ever found themselves in, but Joel is still acting like a skittish asshole. So, she decides that if he can’t lighten up on his own, she’s gonna make him.

She calls his name to get his attention, acting like she’s about to say something more before letting out a dramatic gasp and starting to splash jerkily in the water. He’s up in a flash, calling her name in concern. Got him. She pushes herself down under the water, sinking slowly to the bottom of the lake.

Joel meanwhile is a frantic mess as he practically dives into the water still in his clothes. He keeps calling her name, dipping under the water, but it’s too murky to see anything. Even at the deepest part of the lake, the water only comes up to his chest as he moves around, eyes darting everywhere for her. He lets out a loud curse when something brushes against his leg.

She pops out of the water with a spluttering laugh, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck as he tries to jerk away. His hands find purchase on her waist, squeezing harshly as he lets out another string of curses. She can’t stop laughing, trying to lightly shush his exclamations, but judging from the look on Joel’s face, he doesn’t find anything about this funny. 

“Oh, c’mon, Joel–” he doesn’t let her finish before he’s shrugging out of her hold, leaving her splashing back into the water as he trudges back onto shore. He doesn’t even look at her as he wrings out the ends of his shirt, sliding his rifle back onto his shoulder.

“Get out and get dressed. We’re going home, goddamnit.” She swallows hard, still treading lightly in the middle of the lake, clearly not moving quick enough for Joel as he finally turns and fixes her with a steely glare.

“Now!” She jumps in her skin at his raspy shout, quickly swimming back to land before his temper fires any further. 

It’s a very quiet hike back to Jackson, and she winces when Tommy greets them at the gate, slapping Joel on the shoulder before looking at his brother questioningly.

“What the fuck happened to your clothes, man?” Joel huffs, shrugging off Tommy’s hand and stomping off toward their home. She smiles apologetically at Tommy before trailing behind Joel, entirely dreading the groveling she’s going to have to do.

When they both get home, he still won’t talk to her, won’t even look at her as she follows him into their bedroom, watching him shuck off his damp clothes for a dry shirt and pants. 

“Joel, I’m sorry, ok? Will you please just–” he holds up his hand, and she stutters into silence.

“Don’t– just don’t.” Before she can say anything else, he’s already shuffling out of the room with a huff. She sighs when she hears the front door open and slam behind him.

…

She spends the rest of the afternoon helping at the greenhouses, only being shaken out of her guilty thoughts when Ellie joins her, kneeling down alongside her and the garden beds.

“Just ran into the old man at the stables. Is there a reason he looks more pissed off than usual?” She huffs, sitting back on her haunches where she had been tending several plants.

“Think I’m in the doghouse, kid. Did something kinda mean to him on patrol today.” Ellie snorts, shrugging lightly.

“Eh, he probably deserved it. I wouldn’t worry about it, though. Joel couldn’t stay mad at you even if he tried.” She sighs, offering the girl a small smile as she squeezes her shoulder.

“I’d rather not think about it anymore. What’re you up to, huh?” Ellie grins.

“Just stopping by to let you know I’m hanging out with Dina tonight. Probably won’t be home until late so don’t wait up.” She can’t help but smile at the girl’s obvious excitement, laughing lightly.

“Alright, kid. Just be safe, ok? And smart.” Ellie nods as she gets up, already backpedaling away.

“Yes ma’am! And hey, seriously, don’t sweat whatever funk you put the old man in. I’m sure it’ll blow over soon enough.” She does her best to give Ellie one more smile, but it quickly wilts away once the girl is out of sight. The truth is, she hadn’t seen him quite that angry in a long time, and for it to be over something so silly, it has her worried. It was an unnecessarily dumb thing to do, sure, but it certainly didn’t merit such a backlash of a response from him. 

She sighs, getting back to work, but she can’t shake the swirling thought that she’s really not looking forward to talking with him again.

…

She lingers well into dusk at the greenhouses, knowing full well it’s not because she has a particular fondness for mulch. By the time she reaches their house, the sun has set and a faint glow comes from the windows. It’s quiet when she steps inside, she can just make out the faint twang of guitar strings coming from upstairs. Not a great sign, she knows Joel tends to play when he wants to be left alone. 

As she makes her way upstairs, she takes a few steadying breaths, padding quietly into their bedroom. He’s sitting on the end of the bed, brow furrowed in concentration on his fingers lightly plucking at the guitar strings. He doesn’t even look her way, continuing to play nonsense chords. She sighs, getting up on the bed to kneel behind him. She can feel his muscles tense when she brings her palms to his shoulders, but he slackens slightly when she lays a kiss between his shoulder blades. 

“I’m sorry, Joel. I really am.” She murmurs it into the worn material of his t-shirt, pressing her forehead into his back. She can feel the push and pull of the sigh he lets out, can hear the sound of him gently setting his guitar down. One of his hands tangles with hers where it’s resting over his shoulder. His voice is low and thick when he speaks, what remains of his southern drawl muddling the words together.

“Fucking scared me. What were you thinking? I just– I–” She shushes him, moving to sit next to him, but Joel has something else in mind, squeezing her hip to guide her to straddle his thighs. Now that he’s finally looking at her, she kind of wishes he’d stop, his eyes so intensely staring her down. She huffs, winding her arms behind his neck.

“I wasn’t thinking, alright? It was stupid– just a stupid thing to do and I’m sorry. But Joel, you just– you got so angry. I haven’t seen you like that in a long time. I just feel like it was a little blown out of proportion.” He sighs, his fingers flexing into the plush of her hips as he studies her face.

“I know you’re right, but christ– I just feel restless. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, I guess. For all this to be too good to be true.” Her brow furrows and she dips her head to catch his downturned gaze.

“What if it isn’t too good to be true, huh? This is the longest we’ve stayed anywhere in a long time, hell, maybe ever. I understand, I really do. But I think we have a really good thing here, and you’re so skittish it’s passing right by you.” A deep frown still creases his face, his gaze not quite meeting hers. She starts laying smacking kisses to his cheeks, the downturned corners of his mouth, punctuating each with reassuring mantras.

“I’m safe. You’re safe. Ellie’s safe. We’re safe.” He grumbles under her ministrations, squeezing her hips, but she can tell by the way his features are softening that he’s finally starting to give in to her coaxing, letting out a long sigh as he looks at her.

“You’re right– but I can’t help being on edge. Just the thought of something happening to you or Ellie– I don’t even–” She cuts him off, tugging lightly at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“So don’t. Just be here with us, right now. Here with me.” She presses a chaste peck to his lips to seal her words, but as she pulls away, he chases after it, pulling her into a deeper kiss. They’re both a bit breathless once they finally separate, a smile daring to tug at the corners of Joel’s lips.

“Still a little mad at you.” She huffs, pouting out her lip at him.

“Aw, poor baby. Want me to make it up to you?” He lets out a breathy chuckle as she’s already slinking out of his hold, down onto her knees between his legs. She rubs her palms up his thighs and he shakes his head at her, nothing but fondness in his eyes.

“Gonna be the death of me, woman.”