#charlie writes drabbles

[floralscented]

ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤlazy mornings . . . charlie baker.

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"shh," charlie whispers in your ear, each of the shallow thrusts between your pressed together legs enough to make the rickety bed shake against the wall. "gotta be quiet for me, alright?"

quiet was a word you weren't sure that anyone in the baker family knew the meaning of. outside of his closed and locked door, you could hear his siblings chasing each other down the halls, doors slamming and creaking open, voices coming and going.

charlie was used to it, you knew. impossible not to be. but that didn't make it any less nerve wracking to have the pressure of silence on your shoulders, lest one of his siblings catch wind that he was awake, and try to barge in.

his arm tightens around your chest, tugging you back into him, each shift of his hips grinding further into you. he was still tired, his movements lazy, but he always knew how to make you squirm.

your lips part in a shuddering breath, and his other hand atop your mouth loosens a little, his cheek nuzzling into the side of your neck. "sorry," he says, pressing little kisses on your skin, his morning voice rough against the smooth column of your throat.

you try to whisper back to him, but your words are caught there, right beneath his lips, and instead, all you can do is press your head backwards again, further into the warmth of his chest.

charlie shifts a little, moving you along with him, and the bed creaks a little too loudly, his cock stilling inside of you. listening, and waiting, for any sign that his family heard him starting to stir. your breath joins your words in your mouth, lodged behind every sound that wants to come out.

"i think it's okay," you whisper into his fingers, pressing a kiss to one of his fingertips in the process. one of your hands drops down to his thigh to urge him on, nails scraping lightly on the warm skin. "i think─"

"charlie?" mr. baker's voice is as loud as a gong in your ears, your words stuttering off into nothing at the sound of it. "you finally awake?"

charlie buries his face into your neck, letting out a sigh just for you. and to your horror, a smile, too, just for you, as he starts to push inside of you again. "go away, dad," he calls over your shoulder.

your heart is in your throat already, but it pounds at the rattle of the doorknob. thank god charlie locked it last night. thank god some things could stay secret in a house of fourteen.

"why is your door locked?" mr. baker asks, and he's still rattling the knob as if it'll loosen the bolts inside and magically open, and charlie is still slowly rocking his hips in your wet heat, and you think you might just die, really.

charlie's arm tightens around your stomach, pulling you against him all over again, this time in rhythm with each deeper push into you. his other hand clasps around your mouth again, like he can sense it, the way your lips start to shudder and the dam in your throat starts to break. "because i wanted t'actually try and sleep in, for once," he says finally, and maybe you're paranoid, but his voice sounds more gravelly than before, strained at the edges.

mr. baker can't meet you for the first time like this. with charlie buried inside of you, and you naked in his son's bed.

your nails dig into charlie's leg in warning. his palm curls around your waist in silent answer. still, he doesn't stop.

"you should know by now that sleeping in is not something that happens in this family," mr. baker laughs through the door, rapping his knuckles against it. "c'mon. up n' attem. breakfast's gonna get cold."

charlie groans again in your ear. another sound just for you. no words were being spoken but it was almost like a conversation, anyways. "m'coming, alright?"

"alright, kid," mr. baker says, and for a second, it's quiet again. there's just the sound of your muffled breaths into charlie's palm, and his soft noises pressed behind your ear. but things were never so easy in the baker house. "hey, isn't your girlfriend coming by this afternoon?"

charlie doesn't answer. heat coils in your lower stomach, snapping and biting in warning, your breaths coming out more frantic. again, you can feel charlie's smile quirk against your skin.

his thrusts slow, each one more deliberate as he stretches out your fluttering walls to fit him. "yeah," charlie finally answers, his arm firmly around your waist, holding you tight as you fall apart, the hand around your mouth loosening, "yeah, she's comin'."

you have enough sensibility to not make a sound as your body shakes with the force of your pleasure. you also have enough sensibility to elbow charlie in the ribs for what he says.

"good, good," mr. baker hums.

charlie pushes one more time inside of you, harder than the last, as his cock twitches, coating your walls with the thick white beads of his cum. he presses one more kiss into the crook of your shoulder before he goes lax behind you, tugging you back into his arms.

mr. baker's voice starts to fade, becoming more distant, but not far away enough for you not to hear his final utterance of, "henry says she's lovely."

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this is very niche. so i am dedicating it to the two pookies i KNOWWWW will get it. @deansbeer & @titsout4jackles this one's 4 u.

[bruisedboys]

thinking about how luke castellan calls you “lovergirl” and kisses your neck and tucks your hair behind your ears and rubs your back when you’re upset and plants a kiss on the top of your head when you hug him. and also how he melts into a puddle when you kiss his scar and practically moans when you play with his hair, and how he buys you a necklace with his initials, and tells you you’re not allowed to ever take it off — and he’s mostly joking, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t, he is a little possessive like that . . .

[lqveharrington]

Lucky King? | L.M.

summary: Lucifer takes pride in everything he has, especially his wife.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x wife!reader

includes: fluff, lucifer being a sweet and attentive husband and father, suggestiveness, possessiveness, that’s pretty much it (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: okay but like, i am on serious hazbin brain rot, i have written more for HH than any other fandom so far.

Being the embodiment of pride meant that Lucifer constantly flaunted everything to his fellow sins and his people. And being the King of Hell meant he had a lot to brag about. Especially his family. God, Lucifer loved his family and would do anything to talk about them in every conversation.

An overlord meeting about movie productions on VoxFlix? Add romantic comedies, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite. Speaking with Beelzebub about her different alcoholic beverages? Make sure to make mojitos, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite.

He took pride in who he married and who his daughter was. After all, they were the royal family of Hell.

“Mom, I think it’s as tight as it can go— MOM!” Charlie’s eyes flashed red as she squealed, grabbing your arm.

“Sorry!” You tilt your head back as you let a laugh fall from your lips. “I thought you said—“

“No no no no noooo!” She turned around, eyes wide. “I think I’m good.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her crown.

Charlie beamed at you and traded places with you. “My turn!”

You hum as she tightens the corset around you, eyes flickering up toward the mirror when you hear the door creak open. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hi, my love.” He pressed a kiss to your hand and then one to Charlie’s forehead. “Hi, apple pie.” He watched his daughter tug on the strings attached to the corset, moving forward when it seemed like you were going to fall from the platform. “Charlie, what are you doing to your mother?”

“Pulling her corset tight—“ She grunted as she held the string in place, tying the back. “There.” You gave her a thumbs up as she finished, watching her glow at your silent praise.

“Gorgeous as always.” Lucifer stole you from your platform, the devil’s tail wrapping around your waist.

“You know? Vaggie is probably looking for me! I should leave…” Charlie let out an awkward laugh and fled for the door. “Text me when you need me for the entrance!”

Lucifer dipped you down, chuckling when you let out a noise of surprise. “You look breathtaking, my love. Maybe we should just skip the gala and do better activities right here—“

“Lucifer!” You lightly smack his chest, face flushed from his words. “You horny devil!”

“Says the queen of Hell.” He captured you in a quick kiss, red lipstick staining his lips. “Come on, Charlie can handle it on her own.” He squeezed your hips as you walked over to the vanity with his head resting on your bare shoulder.

You glance at your beloved with a soft look, “Luce, we didn’t coordinate a whole gala just to have our daughter host it herself.” You clip on a pair of earrings, the golden snake and apple shining through the light. “We also didn’t have these outfits made for us just for them to be wasted away on our bedroom floor.”

“I mean…” He nipped on your exposed shoulder, earning a gasp and glare. “They made you a maroon dress with a slit exposing your legs, my love.”

“Because it matches your maroon and black suit.” You turn in his arms and tug at his lapels. “Which I have to admit, kinda does it for me.”

He smirked as he slowly pushed you up against the vanity, “Yeah? Maybe we should ditch.”

“Nope.” Your hands clasped behind his neck, eyes widening when you feel one of his hands trail down to your exposed leg. “Luce…”

“You started this.” He slotted himself between your legs and continuously peppered kisses to your collarbone and neck, softly sucking. “You’re a tease.”

“Lucifer—“ Your protests were cut off with a quiet moan, but you quickly covered your mouth when hearing him chuckle. “Nope, we’re leaving now.”

Lucifer separated from you, a wide grin adorning his face as he scanned you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Let’s go then, my love.”

You raised a brow but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arm around your waist to guide you toward the ballroom. You both were quickly accompanied by your daughter as you made your way to the landing of the grand stairway.

The lights flashed off and the spotlight projected on the Morningstar family, the crowd’s voice hushed when spotting the monarchy. Lucifer gave a welcoming speech to the sinners, overlords, and sins who attended, making sure to mention his family and how they helped make the gala entirely possible. Final rounds of applause echoed through the ballroom as Lucifer finished off, letting everyone go back to their socialization and dancing.

“Mom,” Charlie caught you before you could follow Lucifer to greet his fellow sins. “Did you… Do you know why… You have bruises on your neck.” She finally mumbled out, eyes not meeting yours.

You felt yourself warm from embarrassment. Not only did your daughter tell you that you have hickeys on your neck, but you stood in the blinding lights with an audience staring at the three of you. No doubt photographers caught this and snapped photos for the internet. “Thank you for telling me, baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to murder your father.”

“Mom—“

You scanned the room before your gaze zeroed on Lucifer. He was laughing with Asmodeus before meeting your gaze and gave you a wink. Oh, he was going to pay.

“Lucifer.” You appear by his side. You give his fellow sin a quick smile but turn back to the little devil with a scowl. “Can I talk to you?”

“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around your waist. “It was nice catching up with you, Oz.”

You guided Lucifer back to a secluded hallway, eyes flashing bright red when you were alone. Within a blink of an eye, you had Lucifer pinned against the wall with your forearm.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is to know that I went out there with bruises all over my neck? Or, better yet, that our daughter was the one who told me what was on my neck?” You seethed. You were beyond embarrassed and pissed, you’re surprised you haven’t become a full demon yet.

“To be fair, it was more than just your neck—“

“LUCIFER!” You use your free hand to reach up your collarbone. The room felt ten times warmer, and it didn’t help that you felt Lucifer’s devil tail decided to wrap around your calf.

He remained pinned on the wall, giving you a cheeky grin. “This is really hot.”

“Oh, my god!” You release him with a glare. “There’s going to be photos everywhere! What will the public think about—“

“Lucky king?” He shrugged as he let his fingers trail up your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Listen, we’ll get rid of the photos. But is it really a crime to show off what’s mine?”

You grumble a small response, propping your head on his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Luce.”

“I love you too, beautiful.” He chuckled.

The photos never made it outside of Pride Manor, but the teasing you received from the other sins made you flush every time. Lucifer listened to each jeer, a smirk present on his face from the constant reminder that you were in fact his.

Especially when the bruises scattered around you spelled out his initials.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[sunsburns]

[ nsfw 17+ ]

i’ve been thinking about frat boy!luke who tries to throw the biggest party the world has ever seen at least once a month. he's one of those guys who is actually convinced he can throw a party exactly like project x. but maybe even better (his words i swearr).

he’d even be corny enough to print out a bunch of invites and just throw them around the school so whoever’s interested can just show up.

and that's where you met him, at his biggest party yet. the party was already at full swing when you got there; music blaring through the speakers, colourful lights glowing from the open windows. students and crashers alike jumping to the music and holding red cups in their hands.

and then you catch his eye. he’s standing near the backyard, just walking back into the house to get more drinks when he spots you.

and yeah, you’ve had a class or two with him before, he might have asked you for a pencil once. you doubt he remembers you though.

but then one look turned into three, and the lingering stares from across the room, and knowing smiles, and nudges from friends continue.

you eventually bump into him on the dance floor, both tipsy. a drunk smile crosses your face as you wordlessly start to dance together.

what starts off innocent quickly turns into something more, your hands brush his arms, his hands find themselves comfortable on your sides, and they start to crawl to your waist, then your hips, and if you were a little braver, you might’ve grabbed his collar and kissed him then.

but instead, luke took your hand in his, and he leaned closer, close enough for him to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere a little more private. somewhere quieter, he said, so you could talk.

and you would’ve loved to talk to him, to get to know who the real luke castellan was, his interests, what he studies, where he’s from. but all those questions start to blur the moment you find yourself climbing up the stairs, turning corners and giggling behind him when he walks in on a couple fucking in the bathroom.

you barely remember what you want to ask him when he pushes you against a wall at the end of the hallway, music a little muffled, breaths a lot louder. and now you’re gasping into his mouth, your teeth crashing against his because there’s no coordination in your movements. one hand at the back of your neck to hold you while his tongue slips into your mouth.

and you’re both touching each other, hands wandering over clothes, fingers twitching to touch the warmth of skin, squeezing whatever there was to squeeze frantically.

your head spinning as his other hand pulls your leg up, up and up until you can wrap it around his hips, and he presses his crotch against yours. he tastes like cheap liquor and bad mistakes, and you try to ignore the way your stomach twists whenever he says your name (or at least something that sounds like it, maybe off by a syllable or two).

you bite his lower lip, tugging on it with your teeth and you let go to stare at him for just a second. he's a lot prettier up close. his big pouty lips, the scruff hair on his face. the way he smirks at you before pulling his cap off and placing it over your hair. “fit’s like a charm.”

you roll your eyes, “shut up.”

his hands find themselves under your shirt, cupping your boob and squeezing them gently as he sucks a bruise to your neck. you decide to take a leap and reach for his crotch, glancing down the hallway to make sure you’re away from peering eyes before you unbuckle his belt and grope him over his boxers.

it's all wreckless, and messy, where he tries to undo the buttons of your shorts but his fingers are trembling from you touching him. and while you’re not actually sure of what you’re doing, you love the noises luke is making, so you keep going.

he’s huffing into your neck, your ear, then back into your mouth, little whines that urge you to move faster, his black cap nearly slipping off your head.

“fuck- wait wait,” he sputters, pulling away from you.

you need to suck in a deep breath to clear your head. “what-?”

“you're in my calc class, right?”

“seriously?”

[niteskysx]

ghostface nac x reader

Warnings: psychological manipulation, stalking, established relationship ig?

(I wrote this in between appointments over the course of several months… haven't even properly edited this thing, idk how to feel about it. lmk 😭 also, it's not smutty at all, just a collection of drabbles filled with tension, I guess? sjdkejd)

The sound of your frantic breathing filled the quiet of your darkened living room. You pressed yourself against the wall, heart pounding as you clutched a lamp, your last line of defense.

Somewhere in the shadows, you could hear his boots against the floorboards. Slow. Deliberate. He was in no hurry. “I know you’re here,” his voice called out, low and taunting. “Come on out, sweetheart. We both know how this ends.” Tears blurred your vision as you pressed a trembling hand to your mouth, trying to muffle your cries. You’d seen his face—or at least his mask—at the scene of the crime. You’d been at the wrong place at the wrong time, and now he was here to silence you for good. A floorboard creaked nearby. You tried to bolt as fast as possible- “Ah, there she is!” he called out, his tone almost playful as he pursued you.

You ran blindly, crashing into furniture and stumbling in the dark until you reached the hallway. Just as you turned to glance behind you, his hand shot out, gripping your arm. You screamed, wrenching yourself free and stumbling backward, only to trip over a rug and fall to the floor.

You scrambled back against the wall, your knees tucked to your chest as he approached, his knife glinting in the faint light.

The sounds of your sobs filled the room, each breath a desperate gasp as you pressed yourself further into the wall.

The knife was still in his hand, but his posture had changed—no longer looming over you with the intent to kill, but kneeling down to your level, something softer in his eyes, though it remained guarded.

"Please," you gasped between sobs, your hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. "I don’t want to die. Please.”

But something shifted in him. His grip on the knife loosened, and he took a slow step back. For a moment, he simply stared at you, your tears streaking your cheeks, your body trembling like a frightened, frigid ittle thing...

Without a word, he reached up and removed the mask.

Your breath hitched.

He was too handsome to be a killer. His hair was a messy brown. His skin glowed faintly in the dim light, and his eyes—dark, intense—scanned your face with an expression you couldn’t read. He smelled of cologne and sweat, a mixture of danger and something oddly intoxicating.

He crouched down to your level, his hand lowering the knife to the ground, leaving it forgotten on the floor. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice soft now, almost tender. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Your chest heaved as you stared at him, confused and terrified. What was happening?

His eyes stayed fixed on you, his movements slow and deliberate as he leaned closer. You flinched, but he didn’t stop. Instead, he reached out, one hand softly grazing your cheek, wiping away a tear as he whispered, "Hey... it’s okay... it’s okay."

Your lips quivered as you tried to speak, but no sound came out.

“Shh,” he whispered, his thumb tracing your jawline, making you shiver. “It’s okay.”  You froze, unsure of what to do. His other hand’s thumb, almost without thinking, traced upon your top and bottom lip.

You didn’t move, your mind spinning as his face inched closer to yours. His breath ghosted over your lips, and you instinctively turned your head slightly, but his hand on your cheek kept you in place. He didn’t want to hurt you, not like this– not anymore. But why? 

“Hey,” he murmured again, his voice so soft now it almost broke you. “Look at me.”

Against your better judgment, you did.

 

“See?” he whispered, his lips barely a breath away from yours. “It’s okay… it’s okay.” He kept repeating it, over and over, like a mantra, as his thumb traced your lips more insistently, his touch growing more desperate and intimate.

You stared up at him, wide-eyed, confused, and fearful. Your voice trembled as you managed to force the words out.

"Wha—what are you doing?" your breath hitched, the confusion still heavy in your voice.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his eyes drifted down to your lips once again, and his hand slowly slid from your cheek to your jaw, fingers gently cupping your face.

Then, without warning, he leaned in closer, his lips brushed against yours in a hesitant, slow motion. You froze, your breath catching in your throat as his lips pressed more firmly against yours. He kissed you deeper then, a rush of heat flooding his chest as his tongue slipped past your lips. You gasped, a sharp sound escaping as you instinctively tensed at the sensation. The kiss, rough and hungry, was a sharp contrast to the gentleness he had shown moments before. He could feel your surprise to the kiss; the way your body stiffened, but he didn’t stop— his hands began moving to your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with an intensity that startled even him.

The warmth of your breath mingled with his… The feel of your heartbeat against his chest as you let out a soft, surprised gasp before the kiss consumed you. The frantic beating of your heart mirrored his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away, not when he was so consumed by the moment.

And in that brief moment, everything else- your fear, the trembling… the knife that was once in his hand—seemed to vanish entirely.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

It had been days since he first broke into your apartment. Weeks, actually. Ever since that night, he had been showing up uninvited—always late, always in his usual Ghostface attire. Sometimes just to watch a movie, raid your kitchen, or talk. Other times… to do other things. 

The guilt was suffocating, growing heavier with each passing day. This had gone on for too long now. You had to tell someone. That the Ghostface killer—the masked murderer terrorizing the city—was your secret late-night rendezvous. And worse? You didn’t even know his real name!

So, you made a decision. If you couldn’t stop him, if you couldn’t stop yourself, then you could at least try to make sense of it all. Therapy was supposed to help with that, right? Surely, someone would understand.

You clutched your bag tightly as you entered the waiting room, nerves already frayed. This was supposed to be your safe space, the one place where you could untangle the chaos in your mind—especially after him.

But then, as if the universe itself was mocking you, he walked out of the office.

“Thanks, Dr. Goldman. I’ve never felt better!” he said, flashing an exaggerated grin, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Your heart plummeted. No. No, this couldn’t be happening.

There he was, standing in the doorway, hands shoved casually into the pockets of his maroon leather jacket. When his gaze met yours, his smirk spread like wildfire.

“Well, fancy seeing you here,” he drawled, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

You froze, your entire body going cold.

“What… what are you doing here?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

“Oh, just taking care of my mental health,” he said smoothly, mock sincerity lacing his tone. “Isn’t that what they say? Therapy is good for the soul.”

Dr. Goldman glanced between the two of you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Do you two know each other?”

Nick didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he said with an easy smirk. “We’ve got history, don’t we?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. We don’t.”

His grin widened. “Don’t be shy,” he teased, stepping closer. His voice dipped into something quieter, something meant just for you. “Tell him how close we’ve gotten.”

Your face burned, anger rising in your chest, but somehow, you couldn’t look away from his gaze.

Dr. Goldman cleared his throat. “Well, [Y/N], I’m ready whenever you are.” He stepped away awkwardly, sensing the tension. “I’ll be in my office.”

As soon as Dr. Goldman disappeared, Ghostface—or Nick, as you’d overheard him introduce himself—took a step closer to you, that cocky grin not leaving his face.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here,” he murmured, his tone casual, but his eyes—sharp, knowing—betrayed him. “But then again… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. After everything, I’d need a therapist too.”

You swallowed hard, throat suddenly dry. “W-what are you doing here? Are you following me?”

He feigned a look of offense before grinning wider. “What, you think I don’t have issues to work out? Come on, sweetheart, even psychos have feelings.” He leaned in slightly, the scent of his cologne—spice and danger—filling your senses. “But don’t worry. I’m cured now.”

Jaw clenched, you turned sharply, making your way toward the office—until you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist.

Gently. Not enough to hurt, but just enough to stop you.

Then, before you could pull away, he leaned in close, breath warm against your ear. His voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“Go ahead,” he murmured. “Tell him all about me.”

Your knees nearly buckled.

But you forced yourself to keep moving, stepping into the office with your entire body trembling.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

You're curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, the soft hum of the TV filling the empty space around you. Your hair is pulled up in a messy bun, a few strands falling loose against your face. The house feels too quiet without your parents here—eerily still, like it's waiting for something. Every small creak of the walls settling makes your stomach tighten, every shadow in the dim light of the screen seems darker, deeper.

You try to shake the feeling, telling yourself it’s just your imagination. But then—

You hear a sound of the back door clicking shut.

Your entire body goes rigid. The kitchen.

Your breath catches in your throat as you strain to listen. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate. The unmistakable rustle of someone moving through your house.

Not again...

“Nice place,” his familiar, cocky voice called out from the kitchen.

Your stomach twists. No. No, no, no. How did he get in?

You shove the blanket off, your heartbeat a frantic hammering in your ears as you rush toward the kitchen. 

There he was, rummaging through the cabinets like he owned the place. His leather jacket hung loosely on his broad shoulders, and his fluffy hair was slightly disheveled. He radiated a casual arrogance that both terrified and infuriated you.

“What are you doing here?” you demand, your voice sharp, desperate to keep steady.

He doesn’t even look at you, instead pulling out a box of cereal, inspecting it like he’s making himself at home. “What does it look like? I’m hungry.”

He was getting under your skin. “You can’t just—just be here. You need to leave!”

Finally, he turns to face you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Relax, princess. Your parents are out of town, aren’t they? Won’t be back for…what, a week?”

Your breath hitches. “H-how do you know that?”

He shrugged, plucking a banana from the fruit bowl and peeling it. “I know a lot of things.”

“Get out,” you say, forcing even more steel into your voice, but it still shakes.

He takes a slow bite of the banana, leaning casually against the counter. Then, with an easy shrug, he says it—like a dare, like he already knows you won’t.

“Make me.”

You grit your teeth in anger and try to grab the stack of mail he had started flipping through, but he easily holds it out of your reach.

“Oh, no, no,” he says, pulling the envelopes further away. “Say please first.”

Your brows furrow. “What?”

His smirk widens as he leans closer, voice dipping into something low and teasing. “Say… please. Come on, you can do it. Please.”

She hesitated, blinking at him in disbelief.

“Come on,” he coaxed, holding the mail just out of reach. “It’s not that hard. ‘Please, mister terrifying murderer who broke into my house, stop opening my mail.’”

Your face burns as you mutter, “Please.”

“What was that?” He cups a hand to his ear, leaning in mockingly.

“Please!” you say louder, your voice shaking with anger and humiliation.

“Ah, there you go!” He hands you the mail, but not before brushing his fingers against yours just long enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“Now,” he says, tone shifting from playful to something sharper, more curious. “What is it about you?”

Your pulse quickens. “What are you talking about?”

He sets the banana down and turns toward you fully, “You. What’s so special about you?”

You step back, bumping into the counter as he stalks closer.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, tilting his head like he’s studying you. “I don’t let people go. Ever. So what is it? What, you got some deep, tragic childhood trauma? Mommy didn’t love you? Daddy wasn’t around? There’s got to be something, right?”

You swallow hard, shaking your head. “What? N-no. Th-there’s nothing—”

“Or,” he interrupts, leaning in so your faces are inches apart, “is it just because I’m a guy? Because, yeah, I’ve got my moments, but this?” He gestures between you. “This isn’t me. I don’t do this. I don’t let people go. So what the hell is it? Hmm?”

His eyes flick down to your lips briefly before he steps back with a frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair. “God, you’re such a headache.”

And just like that, he turns back to the cabinets, rifling through them like nothing had happened.

tags aka my lovelies: @lalavenderangel @violetidk @nicholaschavezslut69 @blackynsupremacy @motherismotheringggg @hoffmansgirl @greengoblinswifey @emluvsuxo @iamsebastiansstan @thekhloediary @blog-o-meter

[spoiledprincessbratspostsblog]

Touchy Bsf!Luke x Ditzy!reader

A/N: This is short (not a full fic!) and just something on my mind very late at night! All credits of GIF to the owner! My first Language is not English and I apologize for any errors! Enjoy <3

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

~Of course they're just friends! When someone asks her if they're dating she gets all confused. Can’t they tell that they're just friends?

~ I mean just cause he sometimes sleeps over-oh and don't forget how he's always touching and holding her, but that's just how they show their love! She gets real defensive. 

“Guys we’ve been friends for forever, that's just how we work!” 

~Oh and when she asks Luke if that’s really how all friendships work he just responds

 “ Of course baby I just show you a little more love s’all”.

~ But if anyone else asks him about it she’s off limits. 

~Sometimes you do wonder what it would be like if you two were together. But you’re too scared to ruin the friendship! That’s why you just let him hold you-as friends of course! 

~He has no boundaries when it comes to you. Always holding you whether it be your waist,thigh, around you, he’s always touching you no matter what. 

~One time you saw him laughing with another girl as his arm was around her shoulders and you broke.

~But you obviously couldn't say anything cause that's your best friend right?

~Later that night he asks if youre okay to which you just nod. This makes him mad and confused.

~”Alright just drop the fucking act n’tell me whats wrong?” he said aware of your attitude

~ you just shrug and ask “How's your girlfriend?” without making eye contact with him 

~”what you jealous or something? Come on you know you’re my best girl” he said with a smirk 

~It’s moments like that in which you think you guys have something more going on. I mean after that he watched you get shit faced and walked you to your cabin. He also took off your makeup for you and made sure you threw up before falling asleep

~He just cares like any other friend does!

~ But after that night he never talked to that girl again, weird huh?

[fortheb0ys]

I want Master Chief to take off his helmet. See his pretty face, sweat covered and glistening. A proud look on it from a mission well done.

I want to see that same face, just a different look on it. A look of desperation replacing it. Needy lust taken over him.

He's on his knees in full gear. His erection pressing painfully in his suit. His tongue hanging past his chapped lips. Eyes trained on your cock. A begging glimpse behind them.

He wants what's his. He wants his reward. He wants you in his mouth. Hands palm at the bulge in your pants, feeling blood fill your member quickly.

Your thumbs caressing is stubbled chin as you cradle his face. Eyes connecting, so does your understanding. You know what he needs and he will get it.

A small kiss is placed on his forehead.

"Well done, sweetheart." You whisper into the flushed skin behind his ear.

He closes his eyes in anticipation as eye contact is finally severed. The sound of your zipper, a clear sign of what's to come.

[arrestedforhomestuckcrimes]

what do you have in mind? 👀 you said in your tags, what if vox is right? I’d like to know if you can expand on that thought 👀

WHAAAAAA

Okay so. Full Disclosure TM. A good portion of this thought is the simple fact that I have a Wonderful Alastor who I roleplay with, who writes an Incredibly touch-adverse autistic Alastor to my Vox. I probably wouldn't have jumped quite so quickly to "Oh Vox is Correct Alastor is absolutely gritting his teeth and bearing it" entirely on my own.

If I legitimately enjoyed RadioApple that would probably also lead me to focusing more on simply jealous Vox, but were we are

A N Y W A Y

Going off of That Comic, Vox who's incredibly focused on Alastor, who knows Every little detail about him, Who Knows what Alastor is like in a relationship and aches over the fact it's not him at Alastor's side anymore. He hates him, it's definitely hatred, loathing, nothing else.

It's an event for Overlords, traditionally. Something that's been going on for as long as there have been kings to rule over the masses. Just being in charge isn't anywhere near enough, you have to _show_ how much better you are than the common folk. Any overlord worth their salt is in attendance, even those who only have a measly five souls to their name will do everything they can to show up. To rub elbows with their betters and make connections.

Of course, it's power that allows you into the event. Nothing more, nothing less.

There's more hellborn in attendance than Vox is used to. The doors aren't closed to them, but the ratio is... Off. Nothing he can't handle of course, and he's smiling, charming, coaxing, figuring out the lay of the land so he can decide who to make offers to. Who might want a career in film, or bring his tech down to their rings. Two pixelated lines of red drip from his lips at the idea of getting his claws into one of the tech moguls from Envy, the things they could do together, the things they could be... He barely notices when the door opens to let in another pair of demons, until the shock and amazement ripples out from the entrance. When he turns, he fully expects to see Velvette showing up fifteen minutes late and making a scene to get all eyes on her. He doesn't expect the king of hell, and he really doesn't expect to see Alastor there.

Vox doesn't know about the tension between Alastor and Lucifer. All he sees, at first, is Alastor rubbing in his connections with royalty in his face. He sees Alastor and instantly believes he's showing off just how untouchable he is, how powerful he is. The first time Vox has gotten to actually lay eyes on him in seven years and here Alastor is, practically arm in arm with someone else, not even bothering to look him in the eye, like he's nothing? Fine, fine! Fuck him. He doesn't need Alastor, he's never needed Alastor, he's made it this far without him. Sure, Lucifer is powerful, but more sinners know him at a glance than some recluse who's been locked in an ivory tower the past few centuries.

Vox is definitely not seething as he watches the two of them make their way through the crowd, mingling. And if he tightens his grip on the delicate glass in his hand too much, if it shatters in his grip into shards of glass and ice and bourbon, well, that's a simple calibration error after his last update. He's not pissed. He certainly isn't jealous. What even is there to be jealous of? A scrawny, almost skeletal deer who even here can't bother to put on a suit that isn't tattered at the edges? Please. He's only paying close attention to the pair because he knows Alastor has to be up to something. Nothing else. It takes a while for his frustration to- Not fade, but at least become constant enough he can tune it out. Can focus on more than just that. The cameras scattered throughout the atrium people have gathered in don't get a good look at the pair, but when there's few enough people between them Vox can get a good look at Alastor? He can see a smile that's tight. Eyes that are fixed open.

Alastor can be an incredibly touchy person when it's his choice, and there's plenty of alcohol around for him to loosen up. But his hands are staying fixed at his sides, not even holding his microphone- Where is his microphone? His ears are upright, but it's not the idly twitching, perked act Vox is used to seeing. They're stiff. Primed.

Lucifer keeps Alastor with him as he goes to talk to one group of hellborn or another, chatting like they're old friends, ignoring the sinners around them entirely. But it's not until that dark hand settles on the small of Alastor's back that Vox stiffens like he's just been electrocuted, eyes narrowing as his entire world zeroes in on that idle little touch. So casual you would think it belongs there, settled on Alastor like it's nothing, only a breath away from the tail hidden beneath his coat. Ink black staining blood red, thumb rubbing idle circles, and Vox, after years of knowing the man, can see the tension in Alastor's shoulderblades. How his smile has become tight lipped, and this man who has never shut up for a full five minutes in his afterlife is standing silent, spoken over by this sin and the demons-

"Hey." Valentino's touch is light on his shoulder, the lightest trace of a claw to catch his attention. The "You okay?" is light, casual, not breaking the peace of the evening, not drawing attention to what has the potential to be a moment of weakness. Vox should lean into it. He should wash his hands of the whole affair. Alastor isn't his problem anymore, he made that much all too clear when he vanished without a fucking word-

"He would never let anyone touch him like that," is what Vox says instead. Not here, not in public. Not so casually, like Lucifer had the right to do as he pleased. If his touch was a constant now, guiding Alastor from one set of giggling goetia to a sultry set of succubi, then what was it like elsewhere? Eventually Vox manages to tear his gaze up to Valentino's own, voice low as he replies "I think... The king has him trapped."

[velvetcloxds]

Sitting on charlie swan's lap trying to get his attention/distracting him or just talking about yor day.

PATIENCE | C.S.

word count: 0.6k

warnings: age gap, talk about getting married, quickly proofread, hoping tumblr doesn't screw up my ending again

"I want to marry you," you hummed from Charlie's lap, fingers digging through his beard as you cupped his face lightly in your hands. If the man hadn't been caught by surprise by you settling right on his lap without a single word, that little statement certainly did it. He lost all interest in the game he'd been watching, abandoning his beer on the table next to him, hand instead moving to your back to support you.

"You do now?" his tone was curious giving away just how intrigued you had him with such a simple sentence, bringing it up just as easily as you'd remind him to stop for milk before coming home from the station.

"I do," you nodded and sighed, in thought as if you were picturing it, tuning out the details, and then you smiled, holding onto him a little tighter and he didn't mind, simply adoring the sight of you dreaming wide awake. "Nothing fancy, just us two and Bella, maybe Edward, definitely Billy and Jacob," you were moving, shifting so you were almost straddling him, truly the only comfortable one but he was willing to wait it out. "We can go down to city hall and I can wear a pretty white dress with big poofy sleeves and we can go to the diner afterward to have pie instead of cake, we could have our first dance as husband and wife right in this living room."

"You don't think you deserve more than that?" his hand was brushing up and down your back, soothing you, telling you that you had all of his attention, telling you to keep going.

"More than you?" you shook your head, unimpressed by the foolishness of the question, how could he think a future with him wasn't more than you'd ever deserved to begin with, let alone that you'd need more. "Got any ideas for our song?" you quipped and he shrugged, fighting a smile when you moved your hands to his head, threading through his hair as you gave your own question some thought.

"Something from the sixties," he beat you to it and the smile that dipped into your lips proved that he was on the right track. "Though I don't think it matters, I'll step on your toes no matter what," you giggled, he was very right but you didn't think you'd mind if he did.

"We'd be barefoot," you informed him, happy to edit your little dream to make it perfect. "So it wouldn't hurt as much," you added and he smiled, he didn't dare hide it, happy to see you happy, knowing that after the week you'd had, seeing you like this meant the stress was fading.

"Sweetheart," he almost purred and the softness of his voice made you shiver, leaning into him, elbows on his shoulders as you nodded to make him continue. "Is this a proposal?" he pressed and you bit your lip, considering it, and that was where your perfect plan reached a plot hole, you never decided on that part.

"Maybe," you shrugged and then shook your head. "No, it's not," you decided and you weren't all that happy to hear a car pull up in the driveway, Bella coming home from a night out with Edward. "Don't think we're ready yet, but I know we'll be ready one day," you explained and it was ridiculous, the way you wanted to melt into his arms even more, feeling silly for how sure you sounded of yourself but it made him fall in love with you even more, as simple as it was, as silly as it was, as clear as you could see your little wedding day, the future he saw with you was just as clear, now more than ever.

"And what if I'm ready now?" you bit your lip, wishing there was a way to make time stop for just a few more minutes so you could appreciate this moment with him as you tried to figure out what exactly you'd done to get so very lucky.

"Then you'll just have to be patient, Chief Swan," the kiss you gave him wasn't at all long enough for his liking and he wasn't at all impressed when the front door swung open and robbed him of you, your hand lingering in his hair for barely a second before you were skipping to the kitchen. "Hi, Bells," you sang as the teenager came into the house, met by the sight of you holding a plate full of brownies you'd baked earlier, something sweet that you needed after a long week and you were sure she needed them too. "You hungry?" you were already pulling out a little plate from the cupboard so there wasn't really a choice in the matter as she nodded.

Bella squeezed her father's shoulder as she passed him on her way to you, earning a mumbled greeting as he tried to focus on the game he was so entirely captivated by just a few minutes before but it was harder than he thought it would be. You jumped onto the counter listening to every word of Bella explaining her date in a whisper while nibbling at the chocolate treat but you were more than ready to lock eyes with Charlie as he turned around to meet your gaze.

"Marry me," he mouthed with a lovesick look, one you'd only gotten the chance to see on very rare occasions and you had to bite back a giggle as you shook your head with a slight shrug and a daring smile.

"Soon," you mouthed in reply and when he turned back to the television with a soft sigh his attention was further from football than ever before because if this was what his future would look like then he wasn't sure just how patient he could be.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

★Fred Weasley★

This is your fault Fred Weasley - Dad!Fred

Finding out he's having Triplet's - Dad!Fred

Snuggling with Fred.

I need a hero- saving Fred's life

Fred's meet cute

The yule ball

Pretty like the stars- insecure reader, Dad!Fred and the kids reassuring you.

★George Weasley★

Comforting George after a nightmare.

Reaction to seeing George lose his ear.

George's meet cute.

The Yule ball

★Draco Malfoy★

Unexpected- Dad!Draco (featuring Lucius Malfoy)

★Severus Snape★

A lesson in patience - Dad!Snape

★Charlies Weasley★

Confession's

[bruisedboys]

luke castellan x fem!reader

I think we need to talk about possessive!luke castellan and his shy!gf …

luke who likes to mark you up with love bites!! he desperately needs everyone to know you’re his, and he can’t give you his last name (yet. he plans to as soon as you’re both ready) so he makes do with love marks instead … he’ll have you pressed against the mattress, his thumb pushing gently into the hollow of your throat to hold you still. you’re breathless underneath him as his mouth works away at the juncture between your neck and shoulder. and the lovely sounds you make when he does it just egg him on further! not to mention how pretty your neck looks when he’s finished.

luke who buys you a necklace with his initials and tells you you’re not allowed to ever take it off … he’s half joking and half super serious but you smile softly and tell him you wouldn’t want to take it off, anyway. and luke hopes the time never comes when you do want to, because he really likes how his initials look dangling over your sternum. it makes him dizzy every time he catches a glimpse.

luke who loves when you cling to him!! especially in public or at big group events, you’ll often cling to his arm or his waist in your shyness. and he loves it, something about being your protector stirs a feeling in his chest that he can’t explain. of course, he’d let you do your own thing if you wanted, but you don’t want to. you seem to want to be latched onto him as much as he wants to be latched onto you. he’ll always have a strong arm around your shoulders or waist, or have his bicep hooked between your soft hands. even when he’s talking to his friends he’s got you glued to his side.

luke who’s super handsy and touchy because he’s just so so obsessed with you! in public he tones it down (for your sake, of course. if it was up to him you’d be in his lap 24/7), but when you’re alone he’s so grabby and needy, tugging you by your belt loops to give you a kiss, hauling you into his chest by the hips to wrap you in a hug, pinning you against the wall to tease you (and then make up for it by slathering you in kisses).

luke who’s just so sickeningly obsessed with his shy girl, and he has to make sure that everyone, especially you, knows you’re his forever <3

[lqveharrington]

Nothing Left to Lose | L.M.

summary: You and Lucifer have an argument about the exterminations that happen in Hell, and it just so happens your daughter heard you through the crack of the doorway.

pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Wife!reader

includes: ANGST, couples arguing, charlie basically being the family’s mediator and glue, some fluff, (let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i’m on a hazbin streak omg 💁‍♀️

“Lucifer, stop!”

You were in a fight for what seemed like the nth time in a month. It had been exactly 3,500 years since you and Lucifer were cast out of Heaven to rule over the hellborne and sinners. This kept your patience thin the entire month. Especially with Lucifer pushing and pushing for a better way to have sinners saved from exterminations and sending them to Heaven completely broke you.

“Just stop.” You lean against the railing of your balcony, hands gripping on the metal. “Heaven won’t listen to us—“

“They will if we just ask for a meeting.” He ran his fingers through his ruffled hair, growing frustrated at your unwavering discouragement. “We’ve done this before. They listened and—“

“LOOK WHERE THAT GOT US!” You throw your hand up in frustration, eyes flashing crimson for one second. “They cast us away for caring for the human souls on Earth! What are they going to do to us when we send sinners up to Heaven?”

“I don’t know!” Lucifer let his horns poke out, tail whipping violently. “I don’t know, but if we don’t try—“

“Mom?” A quiet voice came through the yelling match you and Lucifer started, making you both turn to the door. “Are you okay?”

You rub your temple before stepping away from the balcony, not sparing a glance at your beloved. “I’m fine, baby. Your dad and I are just talking.” You take her in your arms, running your fingers through her blonde locks.

She looked back at her father, watching him sigh before his horns and tail disappeared. “Is Dad okay?”

“I’m fine, apple pie.” He kissed her forehead, making her giggle at the feeling. “Can you let us have a few more minutes? We’ll come find you when we’re done.”

“Okay.” Charlie gave you both curious looks, not realizing the tense situation she walked in on.

You press a kiss to her temple, “Wait in your room, baby.”

Charlie silently left as you stood from your previous position. You moved back to the balcony, messing with the wedding ring on your finger as the wind blew roughly on your skin.

“My love, we have nothing left to lose if we take this risk and ask for our people to be redeemed instead of letting them die again.” Lucifer took your hands in his, speaking softly this time.

Your crimson and gold eyes meet his, “We risk Charlie, Lucifer. What if they take her away from us?” You shut your eyes, hiding the red sky from your sight. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to go up there and face the Heavens when my daughter is hellborne. What if the exterminations keep happening even if they accept your proposal? They might target us—“

“I signed the papers, they know they can’t touch the hellborne or our family.” He squeezed your hands. “Just—“ Lucifer let his head fall on your shoulder. “Let me try. If it doesn’t work, we’ll come up with another solution.”

“Luce…” You murmur, blinking back the tears from the fear of losing your family. “I can’t lose you or Charlie.”

“And you won’t!” He cupped your face, frowning at your words. “You will never lose us. I promise, beautiful…” He rubbed your cheek, “I know you hate the Heavens for casting us here. I know you hate being here. But these souls are our people. We have a duty to protect them.”

“Lucifer…” You sigh and hold his hands in yours. “You need to listen to my reasoning. What if the Heavens refuse to do this and make the exterminations worse than they already are? We can’t know what they might do to our people! To our daughter!”

Lucifer removes his hands from you, “Can you just listen to me?” He walks toward the other end of the balcony, leaning against the railing. “This is a situation where we never know what’s going to happen. It might be good, it might make things worse. But we can’t know unless we try.”

You watch him run his fingers through his disheveled hair, knitting your brows at his actions. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He nods slowly, looking up at you. “I can do it?”

You nod, wringing your hands together. “I trust you… If you say we’ll be okay then… You can go through with your plans.”

“Thank you, my love.” He took long strides over to you and scooped you up in his arms, peppering kisses over your face. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” You smile and thread your fingers in his hair, “Let’s go find Charlie, darling.”

“Our caring little girl.” He nudged your cheek with his nose. “Who might be as strong-willed as her mother.”

“Hush.” You press a soft kiss to his lips.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[kisses4kaia]

OVERSTIMULATING CHARLIE OMG- Like making him cry, maybe tie his hands up

jesus christ this took me so long to get to, I'm so sorry and your patience is so appreciated. also highly inspired by lexi's charlie drabble here @arachine

filthy charlie drabble😜- c, walker ,,

god, charlie looked so pretty, you almost felt bad for what you were doing to him.

"p-please, please, momma. i can't take it," tears streamed down the boy's face as he tugged on the restraints on his wrists. "come on, baby. you can give me one more, can't you?" you lazily dragged your fist up and down his crying shaft.

you could tell he was hesitant about his ability to fulfill your request so you spoke again. "you wanna be my good boy, don't you?" the second the words escaped your lips he was bucking his hips into your hand and nodding vigorously.

"yeah, yeah, mhm. i'm your good boy, promise," he whined as he tried his hardest to cum again, for you.

you smiled at this. just a few more pumps of the ring of your fingers around him and he was yelling out in pain and pleasure as he came for the what, 5th time?

he smiled as he came down from his high, thinking it was over. "was that good for you?"

you smiled. "it was good, but you know what would make it great?" you asked him, raising your eyebrows and plastering a smile onto your face.

"hm?" he hummed, now curious.

"if you could give me just one more."

[purposefully-lost]

He only thought of Buster after he'd started the engine. Charlie's hand had already fallen away from the ignition, and a deep, heavy sort of guilt settled on top of his chest. That poor dog had always deserved a better home than the one he gave him. He'd been too distant for too often, and he'd always sort of known that he should've found him somewhere else to go. Left alone like he would be for a few days now, he'd probably try to chew through the doors. Hell, there was a chance he'd succeed, as stubborn as he was.

Leaning back against the driver's seat, Charlie frowned to himself, then lifted a hand to scrub a stray tear away from his cheek. It wasn't as if he'd exactly planned on this. There wasn't anyone who'd think to go checking on his dog until someone found him, or until his mother happened to stop by the house again. He hadn't left anyone any notes to tell them that he was planning on disappearing. It'd been sort of an accident, really. He'd closed up early, after he'd spent two hours staring at the engine of a toyota and failing to make sense of something that was usually so familiar. Then he'd gotten into the driver's seat to drive the damn thing out into the parking lot only to remember he'd already closed the garage doors and shut off all the lights. And then he'd wondered if this wasn't what he'd wanted, anyway.

His mother would probably just take Buster to the shelter. Which wasn't horrible, but he deserved better prospects than that. Vi would give him a good chance. It was just that Vi never wanted to hear from him again and Charlie would respect that.

He tilted his head against the headrest and took in a soft breath, tasting nothing and wondering idly how long this would take. He knew it wasn't instant, but he knew it wasn't too slow, either. Not when done this way.

Buster was gonna be waiting on him. Chewing down on his lip, Charlie suppressed a shaky sound and reached out to find his phone where he'd dropped it on the passenger seat. He couldn't talk directly to Vi, but he could find someone close enough. He just had to hope he'd be receptive, after he'd gotten Vi hurt and left him behind those weeks ago.

[To: Nick] hey, you dont owe me any favors but I kind of need one

[To: Nick] would you mind checking in on the dog for me? spare key is under the rug. Id appreciate it

[To: Nick] thanks in advance

The phone was turned off and set to the side. There was every chance Nick wouldn't go, but he sort of hoped he would. Better for him to find Buster than his mom.

Charlie rested back against the seat and let his eyes fall shut. He'd thought of writing to Vi, but that would just break his heart, and he couldn't do that to him. The best he could do, he thought, was go quietly. And maybe it'd just feel like falling asleep.

@unwillingprince

[crumbleclub]

drabble.

Outside of Fredbear's Family Diner, there are a set of handprints in the sidewalk. The Afton and Emily children had lined up, biggest to smallest, and pressed their palms into cold, wet concrete. They were excited to leave their mark on this place.

Maybe they'd all come back one day to see how much they had grown; how tiny the handprints in the sidewalk seemed to them now. They couldn't wait to find out who they would become.

Every child who'd left their handprint in the sidewalk was gone, now. None of them had made it to twenty years old.

[itsjustdg]

16 - Hudson and Rex 😁

"Stay still!" Joe yelled, panic in his voice as he watched the small trickles of dirt cascade down from the ledge where Charlie was sprawled. "You landed on an unstable ledge," he continued urgently. "If you move, it could give way. Just stay still."

Rex barked.

"Rex?" Charlie called.

"Yeah, he's right here! He's fine, Charlie," Joe reassured him. "He's the reason I found you so quickly."

Charlie coughed, then groaned. "Feels like I've been hit by a truck." The pain in his voice was unmistakable.

"You're gonna be fine," Joe replied. "Just hang tight. Help is on the way."