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#i have been cooking up this all week this is as much for my peace of my mind than it is out of any hope the people who deliberately engage
constelationprize · 2 months
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Okay so I wasn't going to post about this because there is a kind of person I don't want to attract to this blog and I have so blessedly few followers it might not even matter but. It's been driving me insane for days.
You guys know we can't hold people accountable on information they don't know, right?
I've seen this said in two contexts: Kevin and Thea (and the other Ravens) in regards to Jean, and Nicky and Aaron in regards to Andrew.
I won't elaborate much on Jean because TSC2 is yet to be released and I expect this to be expanded upon there, but I'm going to point out a few things: there is no proof that the Ravens at large knew exactly how old Jean was (I do not personally looked that different between 16 and 18), which is a shit excuse, but is compounded by: the Ravens are a cult with a dog-eat-dog mentality. No one there had the time or the will to think "well let's consider the ethics of this situation" because they were all locked in the fucking Torment Nexus. Riko deliberately packaged Jean and the circumstances of his SA so that it would further alienate him from the rest of the team. He was offered to them as a scapegoat and even if a single person there thought the situation looked iffy, they were not in an environment that allowed people in power to be questioned, and so no one was going to look their captain and head coach in the eye and say "hmm actually Mister Moriyama I think you're wrong". They accepted the version of events that Riko and the defensemen he picked told because they were the loudest voices and because an easy lie is so much better to hear than an ugly truth. Yes they are complicit for not seeing the red flags and cowards for not standing up if they did, this does not mean that their actions were senseless or purely out of some inherent moral cruelty.
But most of all: none of them saw a need to defend Jean because JEAN never defended HIMSELF. And yes, WE THE AUDIENCE know why that was, but you cannot expect everyone to. Jeremy knew, because he was outside of the situation and already looking for signs of abuse in Jean.
So, while I don't LOVE how Thea seems to have reacted to Jean's assault, I understand why she did it. (And if Nora hadn't been bullied off of writing her, I would have loved to see her come to terms with how she played a part in the abuse of someone she clearly cares about). As for Kevin, Jean himself says he did his best to not let him know the full truth of the situation, and for other reasons I have my theories, but I will just sit back and let TSC2 prove me right on this one.
Now, about Andrew. It fucking baffles me how anyone can interpret Nicky and Aaron as deliberately malicious toward Andrew for no reason when they have made sacrifices to stand by his side for no reward at all.
Aaron's first contact with Andrew is a hopeful letter he wrote as an abused child longing for love and connection, which Andrew just threw back in his face. When Andrew is in juvie, Aaron tries AGAIN, even though he had no reason to believe it would work, and for all intents and purposes it looks like it doesn't change a thing when Andrew moves in with him! He is cold and cruel and distant and he kills Aaron's mother and buys a sports car with the life insurance money. Can you really blame Aaron for believing Andrew's motives are petty when Andrew himself goes out of his way to pretend they are? He bought a car. With the life insurance. Of the woman he murdered in a car accident.
What is more likely: that the brother with a history of violence who has pushed you away at every try killed your mother as revenge for her abandoning him? Or that he did it to be the first person to ever keep a promise to protect you?
And even after that, when Aaron truly believes that Andrew does not and cannot care about him, he makes a second deal to keep Andrew in his life. And then renovates it through college. He can't hold a single conversation with Andrew and he still won't let him go. Aaron reaches for Andrew in the only form he knows that Andrew will reach back even as he tells himself that it's for nothing.
I won't even talk about Nicky because that man left his only chance at happiness behind in a heartbeat to care for two teenagers who were all but strangers to him just because he (correctly) believed no one else would.
It's so crazy to look at this story, a tragedy about how the Minyard-Hemmick children were so systematically failed by the adults in their lives that they were subjected to horrible abuse, and the consequences of that made it so they had incompatible coping methods that stood in the way of them being capable of understanding each other, and those misunderstandings only drove them apart even as they were holding onto each other for dear life, and ask: Oh but why didn't they notice Andrew's trauma? :(
Bitch they tried!!!!! But at the point that Andrew even met Aaron and Nicky, he was past believing that the truth would make a difference, so he didn't even try to tell them; rather, as Nicky says multiple times, he did his best to push them away and make them believe there was nothing behind his attitude other than cruelty. And they still stood by him ANYWAY. Not even Neil, who has more context than both of them, figures out the truth of what Andrew went though until the literal last minute. Because Andrew, and repeat this with me, didn't want them to know, and they were not fucking mind readers.
It is so naive to believe that every single person who struggles does so openly; or even that if they do, that they'll accept help just because you, who Knows and Fixes everything, offered it. Be so for real. If there is one thing AFTG does well is portray realistic trauma responses and how people from the outside perceive them. Try to learn something from that, or if you don't want to, at least try not to publicly put your foot in your mouth so much.
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smileysuh · 2 months
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good & bad
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🌙 staring. Kim Mingyu & Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”
tw/cw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dirty talk, fingering, dry humping, horny!gyu, dom!wonwoo, Wonwoo tells virgin!Gyu what to do, hand job, Wonwoo using his power to help y/n ride Mingyu, manhandling, size kink, groping, nipple pinching, praise, degradation, voyeurism, pussy stretching, cream pie, multiple reader orgasms, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous & baby.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 8.8k
🍭 aus. superpower au, uni au, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I was thirsting for another Meanie fic and I came up with this super power, I'd never seen it before and I thought it would be fun :)
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Prologue:
“We thought she just had an active imagination,” your mother explained, reaching over to grab your hand and give it a soft squeeze. “Most kids show signs of powers when they’re six or seven, she’s ten now, so we just thought maybe she wouldn’t have any. Her father is a none-supe, so we came to terms with it years ago.”
The doctor was looking over your family file, and she nodded softly, looking up at your mother, then to you. “When did you first see signs that these imaginary friends of hers weren’t just in her own head?”
“There were little things,” your mother admitted. “I was cooking one night and she was drawing. When I looked again, the paper next to her had this image on it- a completely different art style to what she had been doing. When I asked her who drew it, she told me that Mingyu had.”
“Mingyu is one of her imaginary friends, correct?”
“Yes, she has Mingyu, who at first was described as the ‘good’ one, and Wonwoo, the ‘bad.’”
“Something akin to an angel and devil on your shoulder,” the doctor nodded. 
“Exactly.”
“After the art incident?”
“She was outside one day, tossing a ball around, and the ball bounced back to her, like some invisible person had thrown it back. At first, we thought maybe she had some sort of telekinesis, but she told me she was playing catch with Wonwoo.”
“So this was the first instance you saw proof that one of her imaginary friends could actually manipulate real-life objects, correct?”
“Yes.”
The doctor leaned back in her chair. “Are there any other events that have happened that push you to believe these imaginary friends of hers are real and it’s not a telekinesis power?”
“Well, y/n fell off her bike last week. Her knee was all scraped up. I was about to run and get bandages when this soft glow appeared over her knee. The scrape disappeared and she told me that Mingyu had healed her.”
“Very interesting.” The doctor had looked at you then, rolling forward on her chair. “Can I see your knee, please?”
You lifted the hem of your dress, showing your leg. There wasn’t so much as a scratch where Mingyu had healed you, and your ‘imaginary friend’ leaned over the doctor's shoulder to inspect his work. 
“Can one of these imaginary friends move an object in the room for us?” The doctor had asked next. “Perhaps, a book on the shelf over there?”
“Wonwoo can do that,” you’d nodded, gazing over at the boy your age who was leaning by the door, a disinterested look on his face.
With a sigh, he’d approached the bookshelf, reaching for a copy of War and Peace. The book had clattered to the ground.
“I don’t like being paraded around like this,” Wonwoo had mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Very interesting,” the doctor nodded. “It appears there might be some power at work here. I’ve never heard of a power like this one- two imaginary friends, one of which has healing abilities. I’ll make a note of it, and we will see how the power progresses with age. It’s possible as your daughter grows, so will the strength of these friends of hers.”
“Do you mean…” Your mother looked down at you nervously. “Is it possible we’ll ever see these friends ourselves? Or do you think they’ll stay invisible forever?”
“It’s anyone’s guess on that. As I said, I’ve never seen a power like this one. All we can do is wait and see what happens.”
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one 
You’re seated on a musty old couch in the middle of a loud frat party, and a large part of you really doesn’t want to be here. Even with your friend Joshua keeping you company, you’re not here for yourself, and that always feels obvious to those around you.
Your gaze keeps shifting to Wonwoo, who’s having the time of his life. He’d done a keg stand the moment you’d arrived, and now, he’s in the middle of an arm wrestle with Seungcheol, the frat president, who, like your dark protector, also has a strength power variation.
Dino, a new pledge approaches you, handing a fresh cup of alcohol to Joshua. Like you, Dino’s eyes are locked on Wonwoo. “Tell me again why that dude isn’t part of the frat? I’ve never seen anyone go toe to toe with Seungcheol like this.”
“Should I tell him, or do you want to?” Joshua grins, bumping his shoulder against your own.
“You can tell him,” you sigh. In the past ten years since you found out you had an unusual power, you’ve gotten tired of explaining it.
“Dino, this is y/n, y/n this is Dino. Dino, y/n has a power where she has two imaginary friends, except, these days, they’re not so imaginary,” Joshua begins. “Wonwoo is one of y/n’s imaginary friends-”
“Wonwoo prefers the term companions,” you quip.
“Right, one of her companions,” Joshua corrects himself. “He’s got super strength like Cheol does. The reason Wonwoo’s not in the frat is because he can’t go more than a ten-meter radius from y/n, he’s tethered to her.”
“That’s a weird power,” Dino muses.
“Don’t be rude,” Joshua snaps, smacking the pledge’s arm. “Anyways, y/n’s not a huge fan of frats, so Wonwoo can’t join because she won’t be caught dead here more than once, maybe twice, a week.”
“My new therapist says it’s healthy behavior to let Wonwoo do what he wants to do ever so often,” you explain, watching Wonwoo beat Seungcheol at the arm wrestling and proceed to down two shots in celebration. “I’m not sure how she can think him coming to frats, getting drunk, and getting into pissing contests is healthy, but hey, it’s not my job to counsel power holders.”
“You said you have two uh… companions, where’s the other?” Dino asks, looking around.
“Mingyu’s staying inside tonight, he doesn’t agree with this sort of thing,” you sigh.
“Staying in?” Dino’s brows furrow in confusion. “I thought you said there was a radius thing?”
“Staying in here.” You tap your head. 
“He’s… inside your head?” Dino’s face scrunches up in something like disgust. “You have a dude in your head right now?”
Before you can answer, another frat boy comes running up. Seungkwan looks frazzled, his shirt haphazardly buttoned, eyes wide. “Y/N!” he bellows. “Quick, I need Mingyu! Some kid is greening out and puking in the bathroom upstairs!”
In an instant, your light protector appears next to you. Mingyu stands up quickly, face already shadowed with concern. “Show me where.”
“Jesus-” Dino jumps from the sudden emergence of the six-foot-two brick wall of a man. 
“Come on,” Mingyu urges, grabbing your hand to pull you from the couch. You let out an annoyed groan as he drags you through the crowd after Seungkwan, leaving Joshua and Dino in your wake.
You arrive to the second-floor bathroom, and you wait outside while Mingyu goes to investigate. Ever since the frat found out Mingyu has healing powers, they call on him for any sort of drunken mistake, including greening out. One touch from Mingyu can clear nausea, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to his powers.
You’re at a university dedicated to helping people train their abilities, and yet, you often feel like an outsider. It had been clear that you’d been struggling when you arrived, after all, you yourself don’t have any overt powers other than being connected to two men with astounding abilities, and that’s when you’d been assigned a therapist.
This whole ‘do things for Wonwoo and Mingyu’ idea has been a lot to wrap your head around, but you’re trying to make it work-
Wonwoo bounds up the stairs, his eyes alight with anger. “What are you two doing up here?” he practically growls.
“Mingyu’s helping some kid who greened out,” you explain.
“Of course he is, fucking knight in shining armor. Doesn’t he know this is my night? He’s ruining it with good deeds- pulled me away from beer pong.”
You sigh. “Discuss this with him.”
“I will,” Wonwoo states, pushing past you to enter the bathroom.
Releasing a deep breath, you sink against the wall, listening to the two men argue. Their words are muffled by the loud music that thrums through the house, and you don’t particularly care to know the details of their heated exchange.
You’re exhausted, and after looking at your phone for the time, you decide enough is enough. Pushing your head into the bathroom, you find Mingyu and Wonwoo holding each other by the front of their shirts, and their argument stops the moment you appear.
“It’s past midnight, I want to leave,” you sigh.
“But-” Wonwoo begins.
“That’s a good idea!” Mingyu grins.
“Wonwoo, I know this is your night, and I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this right now.”
Wonwoo frowns at your words, then releases Mingyu. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go.”
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two
“You seem agitated,” the therapist notes, watching the way Mingyu is fidgeting on the couch.
“It’s just…” he casts a sideways glance at you and Wonwoo, seated next to him with noise canceler headphones on, “I worry that they can hear me.”
“I can promise you they can’t. The noise cancellers are playing loud music. This is your time to talk with me.”
“Still…” Mingyu frowns, “it feels weird.”
“We can ask Wonwoo to go back inside y/n’s head if you’d like.”
“I don’t want that either, Wonwoo prefers to be outside.”
The therapist looks down at her notes. “Tell me more about that. What does being ‘inside’ feel like.”
“It’s dark,” Mingyu explains. “I can’t really explain it. Wonwoo and I don’t sleep, so I don’t know what sleep is like- but I’m pretty sure it’s not just dark boredom the way being inside feels.”
“Do you both have a preference for being ‘out’ then?”
“I mean… it’s a whole lot nicer than being in.”
“Have you ever discussed this with y/n?” The therapist cocks her head, and it’s clear she’s trying to understand, but Mingyu’s still not used to her.
“No. She has enough on her plate, especially now with the whole ‘give Wonwoo time to do what he wants to do’ thing.” Mingyu looks down at his hands, and he picks at his skin.
“I take it you don’t enjoy doing what Wonwoo wants to do.”
“No, and neither does y/n. My night in control is all about good food, relaxing, and watching Netflix. Wonwoo’s night in control is frat parties, keg stands, and getting into fights.”
“Sounds like comfort versus destruction.”
“Destructive is a good word to describe Wonwoo,” Mingyu admits. 
“Aside from your feelings on frat parties and keg stands and fights, do you think you each having time to choose what’s happening has been beneficial?”
Mingyu thinks about it for a moment. “Wonwoo has been less of a dick lately.” 
“That’s good news.” The therapist jots down some notes. “If I may, from the way I understand y/n’s power, you and Wonwoo are both parts of her. Opposing parts, but parts nonetheless. Do you think it’s possible that seeing as you’re both parts of her, there’s some part of y/n, perhaps even some part of you, that enjoys frat parties?”
Mingyu only shrugs.
“From what I understand, you mostly stay in during Wonwoo’s controlled times. If you weren’t so focused on disagreeing with his morals, or whatever it is you do disagree with, are there things about frat parties that you might like?”
“Maybe.” Mingyu picks at his skin again. “I do like to dance.”
“What if I challenge you to be out more at frat parties, to let loose and give it a chance?”
“I’ll do it because you’re asking me to, but I’m not sure how good it will feel.”
“Maybe that’s something to discuss at our next one-on-one.”
Mingyu can only shrug. He’s been tied to Wonwoo for over ten years now, and he doubts much could change the destructive, obnoxious way he views your darker half.
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three
When you’d been accepted to a superpower-focused university, you’d been enrolled in things that would benefit both Mingyu and Wonwoo’s powers. For Wonwoo, you have to go to the gym with him and watch him lift obscene amounts of weight. The gym isn’t your favorite place, but at least you can get a workout while he trains. For Mingyu, on the other hand, he’s doing healer training in the hospital, and due to doctor-patient confidentiality, you’re stuck sitting in the hallway outside the exam room where he heals people. 
It’s quite boring. 
The one shining grace is that Wonwoo often sits with you, and the two of you watch anime on your phone together. Although Wonwoo doesn’t complain as much as he used to about being bored, you can tell from his slouched stance and heavy sighs that he’s just as tired of this whole thing as you are.
“You know,” you say, nudging him between episodes, “you don’t have to sit with me.”
“If you have to be here, I have to be here.”
“You can go back inside, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“I’m entertaining, you’re less bored when I’m here,” Wonwoo insists. “Waiting for Mingyu is boring. You weren’t bored at the frat though, because frats are infinitely more fun than hospitals.”
“It might be boring,” you admit, “but… either way, it’s nice to see you both thriving. I think this therapy thing has been helpful with seeing all sides of this power.”
“As long as you’re thriving too,” Wonwoo notes, casting you a sideways glance. “It will be girls' night soon- you can have a whole night without us.”
“For real this time?” You narrow your eyes at the man who had ‘popped out’ during your last girls' night. While you enjoy Wonwoo’s company, both he and Mingyu make it very difficult to have female friends, who always get caught up in a sense of longing for the gorgeous men. 
“For real,” Wonwoo sighs. 
“Good, because if I get propositioned by one of my friends again for them to get a chance to sleep with one of you, I might just poke my eye out with a fork.”
Wonwoo lets out a soft chuckle. “Maybe that’s something you want to talk about with the therapist in your next session.”
“Maybe it is,” you huff, hating whenever Wonwoo says something that’s actually valid.
Your eyes turn back to your phone, where the anime has progressed through its recap and intro. As boring as sitting in a hospital for hours is, Wonwoo does make it a little bit easier.
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four
Wonwoo appreciates Mingyu staying inside your head for his therapy sessions. It’s less stress having only you seated next to him, your noise cancellers on, your head leaned back, eyes closed. He thinks you might be sleeping, and he’s happy you can rest while his psyche is getting poked and prodded by the therapist. 
“How are your classes going?” 
“Fine,” Wonwoo murmurs.
“Elaborate on the word fine.”
He shrugs. “Fine. Not good, not bad. Just… fine.”
“What’s the not good aspect of that?”
Wonwoo looks up at the therapist. He doesn’t want to open up, but you’ve encouraged him that this is the place to do it.
With a loud sigh, he leans back against the couch. “I guess… last week we had a class about prospective jobs for people with strength powers, and I don’t know… all the other guys have options. They could join superhero teams, make a difference- and I can’t.”
“You can’t?”
“No, I can’t,” Wonwoo repeats. “I’m tied to y/n. Anywhere I go, she has to be within a ten-meter radius. I couldn’t run into danger and worry about her getting hurt. She’s my priority, not anyone else. No matter how much I want to do more with my power- I can’t.”
The therapist cocks her head at him, assessing him with analytic eyes. “It sounds like you’re saying you feel like perhaps your skills are being… repressed, in a way.”
“I guess you could say that.” Wonwoo looks down. “I just… it’s not as bad for Mingyu. He could get a job at a hospital and y/n would be safe there. She’d be bored out of her fucking mind. But she wouldn’t be in danger. I’m starting to think that’s the best path forward, as much as I hate to admit it.”
“Do you think y/n would prefer that path?”
“I don’t know. Haven’t talked about it with her.”
“For three people so closely tied together, it seems as though there’s not as much communication about the important things as there could be.”
“We talk,” Wonwoo insists.
“When was the last time you all talked about something important?”
Wonwoo can feel hot anger bubbling up inside of him, but luckily, he has a quick example. “We talked about how we feel about this whole sharing time thing.”
“And?”
“Mingyu and I both like it, but… as much as y/n says she’s okay with it, I’m pretty sure it’s draining her to be bored all the time.”
“Earlier you said being tied to y/n has restrictions, do you think being tied to the two of you has restrictions for y/n too?”
“Clearly it does.” Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Some days, I think she’d prefer to be powerless and be at a regular university.”
“Has she ever voiced that to you?”
“She never would, even if she felt it. No matter what it might look like to outsiders, the three of us care about each other. Or… well, I care about y/n, and so does Mingyu, and she cares about us.”
“You and Mingyu still haven’t been getting along I take it.”
“Nope.”
“And yet, Mingyu is inside right now. He’s giving you space to have a private conversation, which is a grace you don’t return when it’s his chance to talk with me one-on-one.”
“I hate being inside her head.” Wonwoo has never told you this, but most nights, when you go to sleep, he waits for you to be fully passed out before coming out again. He sits on the couch, watches anime- Mingyu’s gotten on his case for it a number of times, but Wonwoo hates boredom like he hates sand, hot weather, and the way Mingyu hums to himself when he cooks for you. “I don’t like being inside,” Wonwoo states again, more firmly this time.
“If you had your preference, how often would you be out?”
The answer comes quickly, “A hundred percent of the time.”
“And this is not something you can talk about with y/n?”
“It would make her uncomfortable,” Wonwoo says. “She never talks about it, but- she’d never had a proper relationship, she can’t with two dudes in her head or hanging around all day. I bet she can’t even touch herself without worrying me or Mingyu will pop out- I can imagine it would be very uncomfortable, and if I asked to be out all the time, it would put even more pressure on her. I don’t want that.”
“You care about her a lot.”
Wonwoo doesn’t see the need in responding.
The therapist clicks her pen. “Do you often think about these things? About… y/n’s sexual restrictions due to you and Mingyu?”
A wave of heated anger flashed over Wonwoo’s skin at the question. “I’m not a fucking pervert.”
“I never said you were, I’m just trying to understand the way this unique power affects that aspect of y/n’s life, of your life. Humans are sexual beings, and repression of desires like that can lead to anyone being pent up and frustrated.”
“If you’re asking if I’m a virgin, I’m not.”
“No?”
“Y/N’s had sleepovers with other girls since coming to university. More than one of her friends has propositioned me.”
“How frequent are these… encounters?”
“Not at all now. Y/N was getting upset with her friends falling for me, and sometimes I felt it was unfair to the girl. I can never have a relationship. On top of that, I felt bad keeping it a secret from y/n.” Wonwoo lets out a sigh. “It’s better for everyone if I keep it in my pants.”
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five
Girls' night is going very well so far. You and two friends have already watched a movie, and now, while checking for your next rom-com, you’re all chatting about classes.
Jenni has ice powers, and she’s progressed an astounding amount already with how long she can use them. Yeji, on the other hand, can manipulate sound waves, and there have been all sorts of weird ways she’s adapted that for offensive and defensive situations.
It sucks sometimes to listen to them gush about their powers while you don’t really have any of your own. Besides Mingyu and Wonwoo, you feel like you’re just y/n. You yourself have no super strength or healing, no mind reading or telekinesis- you’re… just y/n, and in a university surrounded by amazing power wielders, it can be hard to hold your head high.
“Anyways, enough about us,” Jenni says, turning her eyes to you, “How are Wonwoo and Mingyu doing? I heard Mingyu’s one of the top healing power students this year.”
“Yeah, they’re doing good,” you shrug. “We’ve been spending more time at the hospital, Mingyu seems happy to be helping people.”
“He’s definitely the good one,” Yeji nods, flashing a grin at Jenni. “Are they gonna pop by tonight? They’re both uh… really hot.”
“I don’t think so… this is girls' night.”
You don’t miss the way Yeji frowns or the way she exchanges a glance with Jenni. 
“Anyways,” you turn to the TV, “should we start our movie?”
The girls nod and you begin to watch your next rom-com. You try to enjoy having just girl time, but soon, you start to get hungry. 
“How do you feel about ramen?” you ask.
“Oooh yum!” Yeji’s eyes brighten at the idea, and you immediately stand to go to the kitchen.
You haven’t even reached for a pot to boil water when you feel a presence beside you, and you turn to look up at Mingyu.
“You guys need a cook?” he grins. 
You let out a sigh, turning to see if Yeji and Jenni have noticed Mingyu, but they’re leaning together discussing classes.
“Gyu,” you whisper, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“But I thought maybe you’d wanna relax and I could cook?”
“Wait-” you narrow your eyes at him, “this is the second time in two weeks you’ve popped up at the exact time something was convenient for you. First with someone getting sick at the frat, and now with cooking-”
Mingyu looks guilty, and you cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to explain himself. “Look… my uh… my power has been getting a little better and I kind of have a general sense for your thoughts when I’m in your head now.”
“What!?” You can’t help the way your voice raises, and you see Jenni and Yeji whip to look at you from over the couch. “Since when!?”
“Just for a bit-” Mingyu raises his hands in defense. “Look, I especially didn’t hear anything about Yeji calling me hot like two seconds ago.”
Now you’re mortified, and one look at your friend’s pink face shows you she is too-
Before you can say another word, Wonwoo appears, and he gives you a once over, then Mingyu. “I uh… sensed a disturbance in the force.”
He’s such a nerd, and in an odd way, he actually calms you down a little. “You know what? Fuck it. Mingyu, you can cook for us, but when you’re done, you’re both going to my room and wearing headphones and not eavesdropping on my girls' night!”
“Okay, you got it.” Mingyu turns to begin making the ramen, and before you can go to join your friends, Wonwoo grabs your arms.
“Uh, sorry about this,” he apologizes, and you’re shocked he’s apologizing for Mingyu’s behavior. “Neither of us really like being ‘inside,’ I think… he was just looking for an excuse not to be cooped up.”
“I’m very sorry,” Mingyu says over his shoulder.
“Look- we can talk about all of this later,” you sigh, trying to process what Wonwoo just said. “Please just- this is my night, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Wonwoo nods. “We’ll try not to be a bother.”
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six
At this point, you’re pretty sure neither Wonwoo or Mingyu can hear you talking to the therapist, after all, whenever you have the headphones on, everything else is muted by music. Even so, if they were to hear you, part of you wouldn’t care.
“It was girls’ night,” you state. “Girls’ night. My night. And even though I asked them to stay inside and not interrupt, they still popped out! And it turns out, their powers have been getting better, so now, even when they’re inside, they can sense my thoughts?! I have no privacy! It’s a disaster!”
“Deep breaths,” the therapist encourages you. “I can see why that would be frustrating.”
“Very frustrating!” You let out a deep sigh, and you’re shocked when it helps calm you down. “The thing that really bugs me though- is Wonwoo said they don’t like being inside.”
“What about that bugs you?”
“Because now I feel bad- now I feel like I’m being a bad friend whenever I ask them to go back inside- but, a girl needs alone time. She needs girl time- without two hot guys walking around and making her friends drool and go all googly-eyed!”
“What about your friends ogling Mingyu and Wonwoo frustrates you?”
“I guess- it’s more than the fact that they’re both hot,” you admit. “I think- sometimes I think I feel lesser to begin with because I don’t have any overt powers. I feel powerless in a university of power holders. It’s hard to make friends if you can’t do anything flashy- I never know if girls are friends with me for me, or for them.”
“Let's touch on that feeling of being lesser for a moment, then we can circle back to everything else,” your therapist suggests. “You said you feel powerless, although, the way I see it, you have two top-tier protectors. Mingyu is the highest-ranked in his healing classes, and his professors say he’s extremely gifted. And Wonwoo is strong, he’ll protect you no matter what.”
“But those are their powers, not mine.”
“They only exist because of you. Have you ever thought about your future after this? After school?”
“Not extensively,” you admit.
“How would you feel about being outside an operating room, about Mingyu being the main breadwinner and using his powers to take care of you?”
This isn’t something you’ve ever considered, and the notion takes you by surprise. 
“Many people use their powers to make a living, Mingyu is no different, and since he’s an extension of you, allowing him to use his power to take care of things would be moral, it would be natural even, don’t you think?”
“Are you suggesting I be a pretty little stay-at-home powerless tether to a healer?” you ask.
“It’s one possible outcome if that’s something you’d be interested in.” The therapist cocks her head at you. “You enrolled in this university, obviously you care about Wonwoo and Mingyu furthering their powers- I would find it difficult to see you go through all of this only to get a regular job that doesn’t utilize them.”
“I really have not thought that far ahead.”
“Think that far ahead for a moment. Tell me your ideal situation.”
You sit there, thinking. The Mingyu outcome she’d just painted was interesting, so you dare to consider a Wonwoo option. Could you go with him on hero missions? No. He wouldn’t let you. The Wonwoo path wouldn’t be good for anyone. Wonwoo gets distracted enough about your safety when you try new weight machines.
“Maybe… maybe going forward with Mingyu’s healing career would be good.” 
“Healers with the aptitude he has go far in this life,” your therapist notes. “You wouldn’t have to worry about money, or getting hurt.”
“But what about…” You bite your tongue. When Mingyu and Wonwoo had first become visible to others when you were fourteen, it felt like a dream, but when you’d been sixteen and unable to spend time with boys for fear of one appearing- you’d started to realize the downside to having two constant protectors. You try not to think about having a relationship too often, but now that you’re being asked to consider your future, you know you’d be happier to have someone in your life five years from now- even a week from now if that was possible.
“What are you thinking?” the therapist asks.
“Just that… as years go by, I feel like my hopes for getting a boyfriend diminish more and more. If we’re talking about my future, the one thing I know for sure is that I want someone to share it with.”
“You have someone. Two someones, in fact.”
Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Are you suggesting…”
The therapist shrugs, sending you a girlie smile, one Yeji has sent your way multiple times before. “Are you interested in either of them that way?”
“I mean… sure… look at them.” You cast a sideways glance at Wonwoo, then Mingyu. “But… would it be weird to do that? They’re part of me, aren’t they?”
“Self-love and acceptance is the most important part of life, or so many Yogi’s say.”
“Yeah, but… I don’t know, I’ve always thought maybe that would be crossing a line.”
“What line?”
“An invisible one?” you suggest, not quite having the words to explain it yourself. 
“Listen, I understand why this might be daunting. It would change the dynamic, as I’m sure you know, but, if you are looking to be romantic with someone, or two someones, I know that it would be hard to find a man who would care about you and want to take care of you the way Mingyu and Wonwoo do.”
“Is it okay for you to be suggesting this?” you ask.
“My job is to further your development, to straighten out any roughness in this dynamic. I’ve not shared this with you yet, but my power is to see auras. Whenever you talk about Mingyu or Wonwoo, your aura lightens, it’s a sign of love. Theirs lighten when they’re talking about you too. Wonwoo’s in particular is quite dark, but whenever you come up, he’s shockingly thoughtful and candid. Mingyu’s easy to read, as I’m sure you know. They both care about you, and you care about them.”
“I guess- if they feel that way, why haven’t they ever said anything?”
“You’re the boss, y/n, I think sometimes maybe you forget that.”
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seven
If there’s one thing all three of you can agree on, it’s anime. Nights spent watching shows together are always very civil, and you enjoy the peace of this, even as you begin to get a little sleepy.
When you yawn for the third time, Mingyu turns to you. “Do you want to go to bed?”
“Nah, not bed, I think I just need a nap,” you explain. “But don’t worry, you don’t have to go back inside, I can just… curl up here and rest for a bit.”
You and Mingyu are on the main couch, with Wonwoo on the solo seater just next to you. You lay down, but Mingyu’s so big and takes up half of the space, so your feet end up haphazardly on top of his lap, and it’s not the most comfortable position.
“Do you want me to be the big spoon?” Mingyu suggests.
“That would be nice,” you admit.
You don’t often get that close to Mingyu and Wonwoo, but on rare occasions, when you’re feeling an extra need for protective energy, you’ve found yourself as a little spoon.
Carefully getting behind you, Mingyu opens up the space so you can stretch your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you curl up to the pillow, with Mingyu’s warmth heating your back. 
You close your eyes, and while you are able to rest, you aren’t able to fall asleep.
Your mind is too full of thoughts about your last therapy session. Now that a professional has given you the go-ahead to explore things sexually with your two protectors, it’s frequently at the forefront of your mind. Having Mingyu’s strong body behind you isn’t helping any of these dirty thoughts, and you do your best to readjust slightly, trying to get into the most comfortable position in the hopes that you’ll pass out.
“You good?” Wonwoo asks. 
“You seem fidgety,” Mingyu notes. 
“Just thinking,” you sigh. 
Wonwoo casts you a glance. “About?” 
“Just…” Should you tell them? “I guess I had a kind of weird chat in therapy yesterday.”
“Our therapist is definitely a little unconventional,” Wonwoo agrees, and from the look on his face, you can tell he’s had an interesting chat or too as well.
“Do you want to tell us what happened?” Mingyu asks softly, his hand soothing against your arm.
“We were talking about the future,” you explain. “She asked what I wanted with my life. I hadn’t thought about it much before, but… I did tell her that one thing I’ve always wanted is a relationship. I don’t see myself getting old and being alone, you know?”
“You’ll never be alone,” Mingyu assures you, wrapping his arm tight around you to pull you close to his chest. “We’ll always be here with you.”
“And that’s the thing,” you let out a small laugh. “I’m out here wishing for a life partner, when I already have two.”
The room goes quiet, neither of your protectors say anything. You hear Mingyu take in a sharp breath, and Wonwoo looks at the man over your shoulder. There’s an unspoken communication between the two of them, and then Wonwoo’s eyes meet yours.
“What are you saying, y/n?” he asks.
“I guess… what I’m saying is…” You take a deep breath, mustering up your courage. “What if… what if we gave it a try?”
“Gave it a try?” Mingyu repeats.
“You know, it.” You look at him over your shoulder, willing him to understand.
“I think you need to spell it out for him,” Wonwoo chuckles. “He’s such a goody toe shoes he doesn’t get that you’re propositioning us for sex.”
“She’s what?” Mingyu’s lips part in confusion, and he looks between you and Wonwoo.
“I mean, unless you don’t want to-” You’re quick to try to back out of this, feeling anxious that you’d ever even brought it up.
“We want to,” Wonwoo assures you. “Mingyu’s been in love with you since we were sixteen.”
“Have you really?” you ask, blinking up at your bright protector. 
“I uh… well…” Mingyu stammers, his skin turning a cute shade of pink.
“And what about you, Wonwoo?” you turn, looking at the stoic man. “Are you in love with me too?”
“I’m the bad one, remember?” Wonwoo smirks. “As if I’d get sappy like he does.”
“I feel like that’s a yes,” you grin, heart thundering in your chest at this new development. “How come neither of you ever said anything.”
“We’re not big fans of putting pressure on you,” Mingyu says softly.
“It would also change things,” Wonwoo notes.
“Yeah, but, part of me thinks it would change things for the better,” you admit.
“So…” Wonwoo pauses your show, turning to face you and Mingyu. “Are we going to do this?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, giving a quick nod.
“Yeah?” Behind you, Mingyu presses closer, his hand caressing your arm again, his breath hot along your throat. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“I think he wants to hear you say it,” Wonwoo grins. “We both do.”
“I want…” your words falter, but you’re quick to steady yourself even as Mingyu rubs his clothed cock against your ass. “I want you both to fuck me.”
Mingyu presses his lips to your neck, it’s a soft kiss, but it sets your body on fire. You let out a sigh of delight, tilting your head to give him more access. Tingles of pleasure erupt across you as he continues to press his gentle lips to your skin, his hand slipping down to cup your hip.
He squeezes you, almost enough to hurt, and it’s a rough motion from your generally gentle giant- it betrays how he feels, how deeply he wants you, and it makes you moan in excitement.
“We should move into the bedroom,” Wonwoo directs, standing from the single sofa. “Come on,” he reaches down for you, easily lifting you from Mingyu, who lets out an annoyed whine.
Sometimes you forget Wonwoo has the power of strength, and he carries you like you weigh nothing. His gaze is forward, his intentions set on getting to your bed, and it’s so incredibly sexy you think you might die.
“How do you want to do this?” Wonwoo asks softly.
“Hmm?” You’re a little shocked at the question, and it takes you a moment to even register it. “Oh, uh… no anal?”
Wonwoo laughs, looking down at you with those pretty eyes of his. “Yeah, that feels a little advanced for you.”
“Fuck you, I can be advanced!”
“Sure you can, just not tonight.” Wonwoo places you on the bed, and Mingyu, who had been following the two of you, is quick to big spoon you again, his lips returning to your throat.
Your eyes are on Wonwoo, and after a moment of watching you, he gets onto the bed too, facing you.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asks, cupping your cheek.
“Uh huh.”
Wonwoo only laughs, shaking his head slightly before he brings his mouth to your own. It’s a soft kiss, and it takes you off guard. Behind you, Mingyu is getting more and more restless, all hands and tongue- but Wonwoo, in contrast, feels as cool, calm and collected as a cucumber.
At this point, Mingyu is practically dry-humping your butt, grinding his front against you and moaning. His sounds are awfully distracting, and you break your kiss with Wonwoo to look over your shoulder at the man who immediately grabs you to bring your lips to his.
Wonwoo lets out a chuckle again. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is, Mingyu’s a virgin. The good news is, that means he’ll be easy to teach.”
“I’ll be good,” Mingyu murmurs against your lips.
“Wait.” You turn to look at Wonwoo again. “He’s a virgin… you’re not?”
“I’m the bad one, you keep forgetting that,” Wonwoo laughs. “It’s not like you’re an angel either.”
That’s true, so you choose not to dwell on it. Instead, you grab Mingyu’s hand on your hip, guiding it down to your abdomen, then bellow the waistband of your sweatpants. 
“Do you want to direct him, or should I?” you challenge Wonwoo, who cocks a brow at your change in tone.
“Touch her pussy, Gyu. Tell me how wet she is.”
Mingyu moans in your ear as his hand explores further down, his fingers brushing over your clit then between your pussy lips. “Fuck, she’s so wet, and so warm-”
“Tease her a little. Her clit is at the top, it’s this small, pearl-shaped bud. Girls love it when you play with that. She’ll be dripping by the time you’re done.”
God, hearing Wonwoo talk like this is taking your breath away, and you squirm as Mingyu does as he’s told, his touch lingering on your clit.
“I found it,” Mingyu groans, pressing his cock against your ass again. “Does this feel good, baby?”
“Feels so good, Gyu,” you whine, your hands reaching out to grab Wonwoo’s broad shoulders like an anchor. 
Wonwoo watches your every expression. “Once she’s wet enough, you can try to slide one of your fingers into that tight pussy of hers. It’s important to stretch her out since I know you’re packing.”
A shiver runs through you now. Mingyu’s big- you know it in your bones, you feel it against your ass- 
“Can I?” Mingyu asks, sucking on your ear lobe. “Can I put my finger in your tight, wet pussy?”
You nod. “Please-”
He teases your opening, and you wait with bated breath for him to finally push in. When he does, you both moan loudly.
“Fuck her like that for a bit, then see if she can handle another finger,” Wonwoo instructs next. “While you’re doing that… how do you feel about stroking me off, gorgeous?”
You swallow thickly, nodding. Then you reach down for Wonwoo’s pants, helping him shift them down to his thighs. His cock slaps up against his abdomen, hard as a rock and glistening with precum. He’s big, on the longer side more than thick, but you don’t mind. You grasp him, rubbing your thumb through the precum to spread it across his skin.
“Do you need direction too?” Wonwoo grins at you.
“Don’t even try it,” you warn him.
“I was just teasing, you don’t seem to mind Mingyu’s teasing.”
“That’s cuz he’s-” Your words are choked off as Mingyu thrusts his finger in your pussy. “He’s doing a different kind of teasing.”
“Can I add another?” Mingyu groans in your ear, seemingly oblivious to the bickering between you and Wonwoo. 
“Yeah,” you nod, stroking Wonwoo faster while you wiggle your hips as an open invitation to Mingyu. 
Two fingers drag through your pussy lips, and when Mingyu pushes them into you, you swear you see stars. You throw your head back, eyes closing in ecstasy-
“If you crook your fingers, there should be a soft, spongy spot. That’s called the G-spot, girls like it when you apply pressure there,” Wonwoo tells Mingyu.
You feel Mingyu’s fingers beginning to explore inside of you, and you let out a whimper when he finds the spot Wonwoo is talking about.
“Looks like you found it, Gyu,” Wonwoo grins. “See? What did I tell you? A quick learner.”
Mingyu applies more pressure to your G-spot as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you. Soon, you can hear how wet you are, and Wonwoo’s eyes darken.
“I think you’re just about ready for him, don’t you?” he asks.
“Yeah- fuck it, yeah,” you nod quickly. “Let's all get naked.”
Mingyu’s hand is out of your pants before you can even finish your sentence. He licks his fingers off, groaning at your taste, before he rips off his pants and shirt.
Your clothes are quick to follow, discarded onto the floor. “I’m gonna ride him,” you announce.
“Sounds like a good idea,” Wonwoo nods. 
You swing a leg over Mingyu’s hips, your hands flat on his chest- when you look down at Mingyu, you’re overwhelmed with a feeling you quite can’t explain. Bending down, you press your lips to Mingyu’s, capturing his cock between his body and your pussy. You grind against him while you make out, a flurry of tongues and whimpers of pleasure. 
“He might not last long, so I’d be careful if I were you,” Wonwoo warns, and you feel his body behind yours, his hands trailing up your sides.
You pull away from Mingyu, grabbing his cock and lining it up with your pussy. He’s so big- and his tip stretches you out as you slowly seat yourself down onto him, your wet hole taking inch after inch until you’re full to the hilt. 
“Fuck-” Mingyu whimpers, his hands settling on your hips.
“Feels like heaven, huh?” Wonwoo asks.
“Even better than heaven,” Mingyu breathes.
Wonwoo’s lips find your throat, and you arch your head back, enjoying the way his hands capture your breasts, massaging you. His thumb and pointer squeeze your nipple and you gasp, your pussy clamping down on Mingyu, who groans loudly.
“You should start riding him,” Wonwoo says, his mouth hot on your neck. “Here, I’ll help you.”
Wonwoo’s hands find your hips, and he lifts you off of his fried before pushing you back down. You let out a whimper of pleasure, closing your eyes and resting your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder. 
With his super strength, he can easily lift you up and put you back down on Mingyu’s cock, effectively taking away all the leg strain so you can enjoy every moment of Mingyu filling you up.
“I might be bad, but I can be nice,” Wonwoo coos. “Look at me doing all the work.”
Mingyu lets out a grunt, and he begins to thrust up to meet you, driving his cock even deeper into your pussy.
“Fuck-” you gasp, reaching behind you to thread your fingers in Wonwoo’s hair.
“He feels good, doesn’t he?” Wonwoo asks. “Hey Gyu, rub her clit. Wonder if we can get her to cum for us.”
Mingyu’s thumb finds your sensitive bud and you squeal with delight, pussy throbbing around the massive cock impaling you. 
Each circle of his digit on your clit drags you closer and closer to the edge, your sounds filling the room-
“She’s gonna cum,” Wonwoo announces. “Tell her how badly you want to watch her cum.”
“Wanna watch you cum,” Mingyu moans.
“That’s not very original,” Wonwoo tuts.
“Fuck, you look so good bouncing on my cock. We both wanna see you cum. You’ll cum for us, right?” Mingyu looks so desperate. Lips puffy and parted, skin a soft pink, dark hair curled with sweat by his strong brow-
“Okay, okay- fuck,” you groan. “I’m gonna- fuck, I’m close-”
“When a girl tells you she’s close, don’t change anything,” Wonwoo tells the man below you. “Don’t add pressure or take pressure away from her clit. Don’t change your pace- the only thing I’d say you can change, is you can fuck her harder, but since you’re the bottom right now...”
Wonwoo’s grip on you tightens, and he bounces you even harder onto Mingyu’s cock, which makes you nearly cry from how good it feels. “Oh my god, oh my god-”
“How about you cum for us?” Wonwoo suggests. “I’m sure you’ll get Mingyu there too.” 
“Are you gonna cum with me, Gyu?” you ask, looking down at Mingyu from under heavy lids. “Please- I want you to cum with me?”
Mingyu lets out a grunt, his brows furrowing in concentration. You’d bet he’s holding off his high now, waiting for you, waiting for the moment you say it’s okay-
The cord in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, and when Wonwoo leans over you to whisper the word, “Cum,” in your ear, you can’t even help yourself.
Your pussy tightens like a vice on Mingyu’s cock, all the tension snapping as waves of pleasure throb from your core outward to the rest of your body.  The moan you let out is obscene, and the one Mingyu echoes is even worse, in the most sinful, sexy way.
“Fuck-” Mingyu grabs your hips, forcing you down on him completely, unable to move while the contractions of your orgasm milk his cock for all he’s worth.
“Look at you two cum whores,” Wonwoo breathes, and for some reason, the degradation doesn’t phase you in the slightest. “Bet you both needed that, didn’t you?”
You can only whimper a sound of affirmation. 
Wonwoo’s hands smooth along your back, helping your body calm down from the aftershocks of your orgasm.
“Let me know when you’re ready for more,” he says softly.
“Now,” you respond without hesitation. “Fuck me now.”
“You’re that eager?”
“Eager- plus the moment we’re done, I think I might pass out,” you admit. 
Wonwoo only laughs. “I’m going to help you off of him, then it’s face down, ass up. You good with that?”
“So good with that,” you grin. 
It’s easy enough for Wonwoo to help you off of Mingyu. He sets you next to your gentle giant, who’s still trying to catch his breath. 
You immediately push your butt toward Wonwoo, arching your back and looking at him over your shoulder.
“Wow, you really are ready,” he muses, hands gliding over your ass. “Don’t fall asleep on me or it might bruise my ego.”
“Sleep after you cum, so don’t worry if it’s quick.”
“What if I want to take my time?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his cock up and down your slit.
“Then I’d say you have so many other opportunities in the future to take your time, but right now, I just want to be full, and then I can pass out between you and Gyu.”
“You know what? That doesn’t actually sound that bad.” Wonwoo presses his cock into your wet hole, Mingyu’s cum acting as a kind of lube that makes it all too easy for Wonwoo’s length to glide against your walls.
“Fuck-” you groan, grabbing at the bed sheets. 
Wonwoo isn’t as thick as Mingyu, but somehow he reaches deeper. Two hands spread your ass cheeks so each rough thrust has Wonwoo’s cock going as deep as possible, his tip kissing your cervix and making your toes curl.
“Taking it so good,” Wonwoo muses, digging his fingers into your flesh.
“So pretty,” Mingyu whispers, pushing a stray strand of hair from your face.
He leans in, and you find yourself kissing Mingyu while Wonwoo rails you from behind. You can hardly help your moans as Mingyu’s tongue glides over yours.
“It’s kind of hot watching you two make out,” Wonwoo admits, his thrusts slowing so he can appreciate the view in front of him.
“Yeah?” You kiss Mingyu even harder and he shuffles closer, groping your breast.
“Rub her clit for me Gyu,” Wonwoo instructs. “If she wants this fast, we’ll have to get her to cum first.”
Your body tingles- you should have known Wonwoo would want one of your orgasms for himself if you gave one to Gyu. You have no problems with them providing you pleasure and you providing them with a view of your high in return.
You simply relax while they work you up together, acting in unison. 
Mingyu’s fingers are rubbing your clit in rough circles, and the feeling of Wonwoo filling you up has you going crazy. You’re doing your best to hold onto the moment, but you can feel yourself getting close to the edge again.
“You’re getting tight, gorgeous,” Wonwoo muses. “Gonna cum for us?”
“Yeah- almost there,” you whimper, arching your back even more so when Wonwoo drives forward, he hits a specific spot that has you seeing stars. “Fuck-”
“You feel so good, want to feel you cum on my cock, wanna feel your perfect pussy get all tight and creamy with my cum-” Wonwoo grabs your ass tighter, and the slight pain paired with his dirty words is enough to throw you over the edge.
Your entire body tenses as the cord of pleasure snaps, erupting through you like a volcano of white, hot intensity. “Fuck-” you whine, and Wonwoo echoes the sound as your pussy grips him harder than ever before.
“Shit, I’m cumming,” Wonwoo warns you, his thrusts faltering as he shoots his load deep inside your throbbing core. 
He lets out sinful groans, and you love the way he sounds as he rides you through your orgasm, roughly ramming into your gspot with shallow thrusts that feel like heaven.
Wonwoo finally comes to a stop, and you can feel him breathing heavily against your bare shoulders. 
“Clean up time, then bed,” Mingyu reminds you before you can close your eyes and fall asleep then and there.
“Right-” you whisper lazily, resting your cheek against the comforter.
“Here, I’ll help you, but only if I get to be your big spoon,” Mingyu suggests.
You nod. Wonwoo pulls out of you, and Mingyu is quick to bring a warm cloth to your aching core, wiping up the cum and getting you situated. He helps you lay down, disposing of the towel before joining you at your rear. His lips are soft against your shoulder, his hand gliding the expanse of your arm.
“We love you,” he tells you. “Even if Wonwoo won’t say it cuz he’s a jerk.”
Wonwoo only laughs, laying on his back in front of you and Mingyu. You’re too exhausted to say much other than, “I love you guys too,” and with that, you fall asleep next to your two lifelong protectors.
You don’t know what the future holds, but one thing is clear; as long as Mingyu and Wonwoo are protecting you, you have absolutely nothing to worry about.
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🔮 preview. It’s been interesting learning about yourself and your sexual tastes with Mingyu and Wonwoo
cw/ tw. Threesome, unprotected sex, dildo use, pussy eating, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, Mingyu monster cock agenda, spitting, spanking, dirty talk, dom!wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, cream pie, Eiffel tower/spit roasting, double penetration, cumming on y/n’s face, masturbation, etc…   I petnames. Baby & gorgeous. 
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🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader
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“So,” your therapist grins as she looks amongst you and your protectors, “I’m guessing things are going well?”
You can only smile, squeezing Wonwoo and Mingyu’s hands.
“It’s never been this easy,” Mingyu says wistfully, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss.
“How are you two getting along?” your therapist addresses Wonwoo and Mingyu.
“Shockingly,” Wonwoo sighs, turning to grin at Mingyu, “I feel like we’re pretty good. Once Mingyu started listening to me, for once, things got easier.”
You nearly choke at Wonwoo’s words- reminiscing about how well Mingyu listens to Wonwoo’s instructions in bed.
“This is a good step,” your therapist smiles. “I’m proud of all three of you.”
No one’s ever told you they were proud of you for getting railed like a whore in heat by not one, but two, men- but hey, there’s a first time for everything.
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2K notes · View notes
blughxreader · 9 months
Text
platonic yandere batfam thoughts...
how you end up integrating into the family.
I think we often forget how insidious the long-term effects of kidnapping are. Your whole world narrows and you have nothing fulfilling outside of them.
Realistically, how many weeks straight can you do nothing but look at your phone/watch TV? I know we do this every day, but we have school/work/friends/family to provide actual fulfillment and joy. But when you take that away? And have to decide whether you should scroll through monitored social media or talk to your captors?
Especially because the TV doesn't distract from the cold, hard gaze of the surveillance cameras in your room.
Even if you read and craft and cook, it's so difficult to keep your mental health in-tact without having a positive interaction with another human being.
It would start small.
It's morning and Cass smiles at you from across the breakfast table. Not wanting to be rude, you smile tightly back.
Jason wordlessly slides you a book. You take it.
After a few months, you feel slightly more comfortable about taking up space in the manor. Alfred is out of town for the weekend, so you make a sandwich with Tim.
Bruce talks to you about the new scientific breakthrough at Wayne Enterprises and keeps you relatively up-to-date on major world events. You begrudgingly learn more interesting facts than public school has ever taught you.
Soon, you've watched everything good on Netflix. You exhausted your tolerance for social media. You've given yourself headaches reading so much. You've hit an art/writers block like never before because your input has run dry.
With no other source of entertainment, you become more attentive to the Bats.
Of course, you've always watched them out of fear. But as months tick by and you've learned their hearts (and delusions), it's obvious that they would never hurt you. Furthermore, operating within their expectations is easy enough as long as you never challenge them, so the constant danger-sense slowly turns off.
However, because you don't have any outside noise to occupy your mind, drama in the house becomes almost life-and-death to you.
Peace is so fragile, and it's all you have.
Damian and Bruce return from patrol in a rage one night. Damian's furious echoes bouncing upstairs, followed by Bruce's low, indistinguishable scorn.
Fuck, you think. Now your and Bruce's talks are going to be stilted and uncomfortable. Now Damian is going to sulk in your room for hours, unwilling to talk about what happened yet wanting some kind of reassurance.
You can't keep them from fighting, but you want to protect your peace.
When you first arrived in this dreadful manor, you never would have imagined you'd offer them kind words and affection. However it's the only thing you can do now.
There's conflict. The house is tense--your world is tense.
Should you call Dick? He has a day job again, so he can't come over until tomorrow night. It's up to you to ease the tension.
So you do, slowly, with homemade food and Bruce's favorite coffee blend and Damian's favorite hot chocolate. You sit with them individually, shoulder to shoulder (much closer than you would normally sit), and pretend everything is alright. They're surprised but very quick to snap back into a good mood.
The house is suddenly back in order and you did it all by yourself.
And with these vigilantes, conflict is ripe. There's always people coming and going, fighting and playing, and you're unwillingly the most in-tune with the well-being of everyone's relationships.
You protect your peace. You protect the house.
this shit makes me gnaw at my enclosure. if you're fem, it's worse because ✨ stereotypical woman archetype ✨ anyway this has been on my mind because i've been taking care of my baby chicks and cooking dinner most nights, so i'm like 💁‍♀️ i could be a captive house wife click here for my yandere batfam masterlist
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freakyfrye · 2 months
Text
ᝰ. 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔰
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requested ( @cartoonykat ) : alastor, angel dust, husk, lucifer, charlie & vaggie, vox, adam, sir pentious x gn! reader (separately), they’re having a moment (or romantic date) but it’s interrupted/ruined by someone or something
type: scenarios
content: domestic, fluff, slight crack, bunch of smitten sinners, swears, angle dust bad ass reader s/o, val mentioned thrice cause he’s annoying ash (but he will be added to the blog soon), vox’s kind of a whiny baby but it’s hot (?¿), brief luci vs alastor bit
note: this took a while. ngl because, honestly, alastor and luci had me stumped — also some may be longer than others, what can I say? give inspiration where it’s due
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꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔩𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯
It's rare to see Al anywhere but the heir Morningstar Hotel, whispering over her shoulder like the villain you know him to be. Yet, even he needs a break from the chaos. Strangely enough, for someone who loathes any form of physical touch, he always shows up on your doorstep like clockwork by the end of the week.
Your mornings are routinely filled with melodic tones that stir you awake. The air is thick with the scent of powdered sugar beignets, which only he can make, and the aroma of the finest coffee beans you worked hard to procure because you knew how much he enjoyed them.
He's busy working on something when you creep up behind him, hearing him hum along to his favorite jazz song. Always the jolly fellow with the wickedest mind, he seems at peace for once, even when you audaciously wrap your arms around his waist from behind.
In the past, he would have tensed up and demanded an explanation through clenched teeth. Instead, he now leans into your touch as you lay your head on his back. “Mornin’ Al.” you’d greet muffled, breathing in his scent.
He hums softly, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning towards you, his grin devilishly relaxed. "Well, well, good morning, mon cher. Hope I didn't stir you with all my shufflin'."
You open your mouth to assure him that wasn't the case when, within the next second, there's a loud boom from your far wall and debris flying around your kitchen. When the dust clears, you both stare blankly at a large hole in your wall. You're lost to what's happening when a figure steps through, glaring at Alastor with intense hatred.
"What—Who?" you ask, looking from him to Al, whose smile is tense. "Is this one of your enemies?" you deduce, realizing he must be, since he wasn't here for you.
Alastor blinks before turning towards you, smiling proudly. "Who could tell?,” he jokes, “It's a difficult task to keep track when you're the most hated demon in hell."
“You gonna handle that?” you ask, staring up at him, a frown on your face.
You didn't have to ask twice; he was already pulling away from you, though he didn't appear as cheerful as one might expect when heading off to handle his business.
“And fix my wall when you’re done, Alastor.”
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩 𝕯𝔲𝔰𝔱
It was clear that Angel hadn’t been himself lately. Whether it was the strain from Valentino’s demands or dealing with Charlie and her redemption shenanigans, the reasons were irrelevant. It did bother you and concerned you that he wasn’t confiding in you about whatever was troubling him, though.
But you weren’t going to press him, adding to his burdens. Instead, you decided to show your support: tidying up your place, setting the table, adjusting the lighting, and spending the entire day preparing his favorite Italian dishes. They weren't quite as perfect as his mama's, but you knew no one could match her cooking.
As evening arrived, you finally invited him over, knowing he wouldn’t be free until this hour, dealing with Val’s big head. Greeting him at the door with a kiss, you noticed his tired gaze soften as he returned the gesture. Leading him inside, he gradually perked up, taking in the atmosphere you had carefully set.
By the time he sits at the table, he's lively, smiling like a kid in a candy store as he pours both of you a glass of Roscato wine. “Wow, baby, all this for me?” he asks with a bashful charm, his eyes slightly hooded as he swirls the wine in his glass, chin resting on the back of his hand.
“No,” you begin joking, “this is for the guy after you—don’t eat it all, alright? Leave some for him.”
Angel chuckles, setting down his glass to pick up his fork. He scoops up some fettuccine, then leans forward and offers it towards your mouth. "I think ya runnin’ that pretty mouth a lil too much, sweet cheeks. We both know there ain’t no competition."
Before you can bite back something naughty, his hellphone chimes repeatedly in his pocket. A weighty silence falls over both of you as he reluctantly sets down his fork and retrieves it, his brow furrowing deeply at the messages displayed on his screen. He looks to you from his phone before sighing and rising from his seat.
You raise your hand, stopping him in his tracks. "Wait. Hold on! Where do you think you're off to?" you demand, scrutinizing him suspiciously.
He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he gestures with his hands while explaining, "I'm sorry, sugar. It's Val. He needs me. I gotta go—"
"Sit your ass down," you bark, your mood souring. Angel does a double-take, and you continue, "I planned this day perfectly—slaved away to cook these loving dishes for you—and that man-child was not part of the picture. If he wants my man, he better come and pry me away from you."
Angel quickly considers his options. Ignoring Val usually ends in trouble, but ignoring you feels worse than anything Val could inflict—especially since you're somehow scarier and hotter than him. Plus, he knows you can handle yourself, a skill you demonstrated long before you two got together. He makes his choice and sits back down. To hell with Val; dealing with him can wait.
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕳𝔲𝔰𝔨
By the end of the day, exhausted from working tirelessly, all you wanted was to faceplant into your bed. But Husk was coaxing you to spend the night with him, mentioning relaxation and the allure of Hennessy. Honestly, if he had just said he wanted to see you, you’d be right over. No coaxing needed, but who’s gonna tell him?
As you stand outside his room door, it dawns on you that Husk may not even know what it means to relax. Sure, he's somewhat chill after a few drinks, but you've never seen him truly unwind since you've known him. You wonder what you’re in for when you knock on his door, waiting for him to answer.
A gravelly voice answers through the door, "Come in," then falls silent. You purse your lips in confusion and twist open the door, cautiously stepping inside. The room is dimly lit by candles, making it a bit challenging to see at first, but as your eyes adjust, you find him seated on a loveseat, staring at you intently.
"Yeah, not creepy at all," you mumble halfheartedly, dropping your bag on his bed before walking over to him. Your comment earns a tsk from him and a grumble under his breath, but nothing more. Yeah, this was definitely weird. “Who are you and what did you do with gumpelherekitty kitty?”
"Shut the hell up and come here before there's no liquor left," he bites, taking the bait with a small smile on his face as he watches you flop down beside him. An array of pillows behind you looks like clouds waiting to be drooled on, but instead of relaxing just yet, you lean in for a kiss.
A glass of Hennessy is placed in your hands as you pull away, the dark liquid resembling brown sugar but far from sweet. You judge the small amount and down it in one gulp, tilting your head back and letting out a hiss at the burn. It was well worth it, though.
Husk must have agreed because he took the glass from your hand to pour another. "Rough day, huh?" Instead of passing it back to you, he drinks it himself and then gently guides you back onto the pillows, placing your legs across his lap.
You groan, "You have no idea!" before pausing, recalling his own stressful situation. You send him a sympathetic smile, "Then again, you might." You watch as he shrugs, carefully removing your shoes one by one and placing them aside.
"Tell me about it," he says, grabbing one of your feet and starting to massage it, aiming to ease the soreness. "Your day, I mean. Or not." Despite his half-hearted objection, he looks at you expectantly, knowing you'll likely indulge him anyway. And you do—you recount how everything that could go wrong today did, venting about nasty customers and expressing relief to end the day with him.
That confession didn’t escape him; instead, he purrs softly at your words, his eyes grows hooded as his hand moves from your feet to your calf, rubbing gently. He starts to reply when his door bursts open, capturing both of your attention.
He stands up, your legs sliding off his lap as he reaches for his cards, but pauses at the sound of Nifty's sinister giggling and the frantic scraping on the floor. You both watch as she chases a large roach in circles for a few seconds too long before finally following it out the door.
"You people are strange," you comment after a long pause.
Husk sighs heavily through his nose, flopping back into his earlier spot and pouring himself and you a drink. "Tell me something I don't know, sweetheart.”
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕷𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯
You've been in the hotel long before he showed up. You were already making progress on your redemption arc to heaven. That was always the goal, but you never anticipated to fall for him. This complicated your plans, and he knew it. You wonder if that’s where his doting and overbearing behavior stems from; abandonment and guilt—the risk of both losing you and stopping you from enlightenment.
He often sweeps you off your feet and plans spontaneous outings, desperate to keep you close for as long as possible. It was romantic and considerate of him, just so him, but he didn't have anything to worry about. You wish you could tell him, when you realized it, that even in heaven, you'd fall just to be with him. But the relationship was still fresh so you opt in matching his energy.
The dopey smile he gave you after you guided him to the candlelit table adorned with handmade meals was worth it. You could visibly see his shoulders relax, as if a weight had been lifted. Ever the gentleman, he helps you sit before himself. The evening is filled with sweet nothings, laughter, and smitten glances.
Lucifer reaches across the table, taking your hand and bringing it to his lips, planting a loving kiss on your knuckles. "Thank you," he expresses his gratitude as dinner comes to an end. But you had more planned for this night.
"I should be the one thanking you," you confess, causing him to raise a curious brow. You playfully reach over and nudge it back into place, eliciting a pout but no protest. Instead he chooses to lean more into your touch. "I haven't had this much fun since arriving in hell in years."
His devilish grin returns, his posture straightening as he half-heartedly feigns humility, failing halfway because how could he not when you're hyping him up? "Well, y’know, I try. How about we take a trip to Lulu world tomorrow? It's a blast—fully comp, of course, you’re dating the boss," he winks mischievously.
“Don’t you mean “loo loo land”?”
Lucifer shakes his head, waving his hands dismissively. "No—no no no, heavens no. That dreadful place shouldn’t exist in any of the 7 rings,” he sneers with disdain.
You nod, though not fully understanding, and rise from your seat. Lucifer, following your lead like a lost puppy, closes the distance between you. With a smile, you guide him by the sleeve to the center of the ballroom, wrapping your arms around his neck. "The night's far from over. Care to dance with me?" On cue, soft music gently fills the background.
He certainly does. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close, swaying gently. His expression softens to one of peace. You playfully plant a kiss on his nose before resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes in contentment. They open not even a minute later when the music abruptly stops, gaining both your attention.
You know where the music box is, assuming it malfunctioned but you're surprised to see Alastor standing there, observing you both. Once your attentions on him, he casually addresses everyone in the room, "Oh, my sincerest apologies. Am I interrupting something?" his smile widens at the growl that rumbles from Lucifer chest.
"You’re still here?" Lucifer grumbles, holding you closer, clearly annoyed by the interruption, especially because of who it was.
This earns a deep chuckle from Alastor, “Well, of course. Charlie’s had her fill of parental figures abandoning her, wouldn’t you say, sir?”
“What did he say?!” Lucifer turns towards you for confirmation.
"Anywho, I came to inform you both that a hotel meeting has been called. You know where," Alastor adds, then starts up the music again before disappearing into the shadows.
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔞𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔢 & 𝕮𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔢
Redemption this, redemption that. That's all Charlie ever talks about, with Vaggie always backing her up. Sure, you support her too, but it gets annoying when it consumes all their time, leaving very little for the three of you to nurture your relationship. It was seriously irritating the heck out of you. Having two girlfriends but neither showing you affection like the good old days.
They probably caught on to the problem after enduring your snappy, sarcastic comments and watching you bail on redemption exercises for the nth time this week. With enough silent glances exchanged between them, they realized they had to do something. The following week, they lead you to a romantic picnic in the hotel's garden. You didn't even know the garden existed.
It was surprisingly sweet, especially for a setting in Hell—maybe even slightly cheesy. A white lace blanket was spread across the ground, with a silver tray of desserts of all kinds adorned with rainbow flag toothpicks. Beside it was a black heart-shaped picnic basket and a bouquet of flowers.
There was champagne with smiley faces on the bottle and plates with quirky little sandwiches that you were sure Charlie had tried to make. A gothic black umbrella stuck out from the ground, purpose of shielding you all from the hot sun.
Before you could say anything—not that there was much to say, as you were frankly speechless—Charlie and Vaggie pulled you to sit with them. Vaggie wore a soft smile, while Charlie beamed with eagerness.
"We’ve noticed you’ve been a little snippy lately,” Charlie starts, her expression shifting to one of guilt and sympathy. She tightens her hold on you, pulling you closer to her side. “I’m so, so sorry, sweetie. I’ve been so focused on the guest that I’ve neglected both you and Vaggie.”
“I carry some of the blame too,” Vaggie chimes in. “I was so caught up in making sure the hotel ran smoothly and keeping everyone safe that I forgot about the people who matter most to me.”
Charlie’s hands travel down your arms to hold yours in hers. “Can you forgive us? We really didn’t mean it.”
“Of course we didn’t,” Vaggie adds, placing her hands on top of Charlie’s. “We love you so much.”
You bite your lip, glancing between their faces as guilt starts to eat at you because of their words and romantic gestures. “Fuck…” you groan, pouting and closing your eyes. “I’m such an asshole.”
Charlie shakes her head. “No, you’re sweet for wanting time with us,” she says, batting her lashes. “We want time with you too.” She leans in, placing a soft kiss on your lips. Vaggie leans in for a kiss, but just then, someone stumbles into the garden, interrupting the moment.
“Charlie!” Lucifer exclaims, zeroing in on her before finally noticing the surroundings, including Vaggie and you. “Oh—uh, haha,” he chuckles nervously, “I’m interrupting something, aren’t I?” He slowly starts to back away. “I’ll just find you later, sweetie! Enjoy your date.”
Just as quickly as he stumbled in, he’s gone. Charlie gives you both an apologetic smile before you all resume your date.
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝖁𝔬𝔵
Opportunity didn’t always come knocking, but you must have one hell of a lucky streak to go from being Vox’s assistant by day to his lover by night. As his assistant, you saw how swimmingly put together Vox always was—after all, the cameras were always rolling if you were one of the Vees.
There was never a moment he wasn’t on top of things, keeping everything in check and everyone in line. Of course, the best times were when Alastor wasn’t involved. But now Alastor is back, and he’s even more of a pain in his side than Vox remembered. Just when Vox was on top of the world, now he’s glitching out at the very thought of that vermin.
Surprisingly, he kept it together in front of almost everyone. But when the clock strikes midnight, he clocks out and heads to his fancy penthouse where you're currently curled up on the couch, waiting for him. His expression instantly shifts to a tired smile as he walks over to you, and you open your arms for him.
He flops all his weight onto you, burying his face in your chest with a low groan. You purse your lips, wrapping your arms around his upper back and kissing his head. Cooing, almost babying him, you ask, “Had a rough day, sugar?” You wouldn’t know since your shift ended hours before his. He grumbles inaudible into your chest.
Tsking, you shake your head. “I can’t understand you when you do that.”
After a moment, he reluctantly pulls away just enough to glance up at you. “That smiling freak… fuuuck…” he mutters before snuggling back into your chest.
There was only one freak who smiled like he had carved it into his cheeks. Why are you not surprised? Sighing, you ask the million-dollar question, “What did he do now?”forcing him to look up at you fully. Perhaps the better question is what doesn’t he do? He can so much as breathe in Vox’s direction and it pisses him off.
“That shitty fuck is tanking my ratings,” Vox begins ranting. “Yesterday, they were down 2 percent. Today, they’re down 7 percent. 7 PERCENT!”
Tilting your head, you frown. “How do you know it’s him? Alastor doesn’t like electronics.”
Vox narrows his eyes down at you as he rises from on top of you, sparks flying from his hands. “Are you seriously defending that asshole right now?!” he asks, his voice strained with disbelief.
“Of course not! What the hell, Vox? I was just stating the obvious.” Here he was, getting insecure again. Seriously, why even mention Alastor around him?
"Fuck your obvi-" Vox is cut off by the ringing of his phone. Velvet's name and photo pop up on his screen. Blinking, you wait to see if he's going to answer, but he declines the call. "—ous bullshit. You’re riding his dick more than mine."
Hunky hunky hunky.
She calls again, and this time Vox answers, zapping the call to the main screen in the living room. “What is it, Velvette? I’m in the middle of—” his screen glitches, his voice turning to static, “—something.”
"What the fuck do you think? He’s at it again, throwing a fucking tantrum over that spider whore," Velvette barks through the screen, her accent heavy with annoyance. "Handle it. I’m busy," she adds, then hangs up.
After the call, silence fills the room before he turns to you, his charming grin returning. “This conversation isn’t over,” he says, his words carrying a double meaning. Still, he leans over to give you a kiss on the lips before he leaves.
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕬𝔡𝔞𝔪
Lately, he's been acting strange. You weren’t sure what it was, but each time he comes down to visit you from heaven, he becomes more and more affectionate. At first, you thought he was teasing you, giving you just enough to keep you yearning and then pull back; let you sweat in want—but that never happened. It didn't click in your head until today, after he grudgingly confessed because—
“What the fuck??” you blink owlishly at your bathroom door. But the door isn’t the issue; it’s the noise coming from outside it. Lowering your thriller book, you place it on the toilet seat before rising from the bathtub, wrapping a towel around yourself, and exiting the bathroom.
You're glad to know you weren’t losing your mind, and were in fact hearing correctly. There was indeed a noise, more defined now—an instrumental tune growing louder towards your bedroom. Except, it wasn’t coming from inside your bedroom come to find out but outside your window.
Opening it, you peek over the sill, and your mouth drops. Standing there, looking up at you with an acoustic guitar in his hand, is Adam, with a bouquet of red roses lying at his feet.
“Adam…?” you stutter out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell are you doing?”
His fingers pause on the guitar strings, and he grins. "Fucking finally, babe, I've been standing out here for 10 minutes," he says as he slides the guitar onto his back. He then bends down to pick up the roses and waves them at you. "I brought you flowers."
"…for what?" you bluntly ask, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. Adam doesn’t do kind gestures—none that you know of—and he certainly doesn’t play acoustic guitars. He claims they're for pussy-whipped douchebags.
He scoffs, lowering it to his side with a shrug, “There has to be a reason?”
You chuckle, raising a brow. "That's how it works, dummy… why did you stay out there for 10 minutes? Just use the front door." Shaking your head, you duck back inside the window to close it and start getting dressed. You're halfway through putting on your pants when Adam barges into your room, tossing the guitar onto the bed.
He walks over to you, checking you out with a sultry smirk. "Are you struggling to fit into your pants?" he asks, before shaking his head as if to focus, adding and shoving the flowers at you, "I heard mortal bitches love this shit."
You finish buttoning your pants while juggling the roses, then sigh loudly and close the distance, pecking him on the lips. "What? Flowers being shoved at them and terrible music. Stick to electric guitars, Adam. It’ll get you laid more." you say sarcastically, pulling away and chuckling. “Acoustics are for pussy-whipped douchebags, remember?”
“Well, yeah, obviously!” Adam follows after you, scratching his head. “I’m talking about me serenading you and giving you flowers… It’s a romantic gesture or whatever… right?” He sounds unsure himself.
You whirl around to face him, pursing your lips as you try to figure out how to word what you’re going to say next without sounding too harsh. "Okay… what the actual fuck is going on with you? You haven’t been yourself the last few weeks, and this is starting to really weird me out."
Adam draws back, his lips forming a tight line before he utters, "Uhhh…" and averts his eyes. "I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about." Then, within seconds, he's back to his upbeat self, pulling you towards him by your hips. "You’re fucking hot. Who wouldn’t wanna get in your pants?"
You shake your head, removing his hands and crossing your arms as you stare pointedly at him. It's a silent staring contest for three minutes before he caves in with an annoyed groan. His shoulders tense up as he grumbles, "Fine, fuck. You can be so annoying when you want to be…"
When he doesn't get a reaction from you, he spills the beans, pacing around the room. "Some losers up in Heaven said I wasn't romantic. Me. I'm like, No fucking way, I'm the first dick. Nobody knows how to make bitches fall harder on it!" He scoffs, slouching in place. "Those little fuckers laughed in my face."
You sigh, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "So you came here to prove a point?" He nods, and you continue, "For the first man, you can be pretty stupid. I’m in Hell, who’s going to know? And secondly, I don’t need all this—it’s cute, but you can be sweet in your own Adam way, not this poser crap."
"Well, shit, fuck. Wish I knew that before wasting my break on this instead of fucking the breath outta you," he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist. "I guess I'll just have to make up for it next time."
“Well you better hurry up. The faster you finish your work, the sooner you come back to me.”
꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ 𝕾𝔦𝔯 𝕻𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰
When you were alive, your dating life was less than healthy and filled with constant disappointment. Your friends called it toxic, but you’d always reply that you only live once. So what if your typical lover was the stereotypical bad boy? Red flags never looked better on anyone. Besides, red was your favorite color.
Ending up in Hell with the life you led was no surprise. You thought you’d keep up the same lifestyle—getting plastered and starting fights with assholes—but somehow you wound up in a crappy hotel after the princess of Hell saw "potential" in you. But what left you even more baffled than potentially spending the rest of your stay in hell there was falling for a simp of a man.
A true gentleman from a different era than yours has you questioning where someone like him was hiding out in your past life. And if you had come across someone like him back then, would you have even given him the time of day if you weren’t being cooped up in a raggedy hotel? Highly unlikely but you’re glad you found him now, while on the road of redemption together.
You may have become sappy enough to tell him that whenever you both had alone time to breathe each other in, much like now. Watching as a heavy blush dusts across his face, his eyes glossing over with devotion, his tail swishing behind him, and his hands fidgeting. Man, he gets more adorable day by day.
“I—” he pauses to gather himself before continuing, “Well, I feel the sssame way, dear!" Sir Pentious always exclaims, suddenly grabbing your hands in his and adding, "In fact, I have sssomething for you. To sshow how much I value our time together…" His voice trails off bashfully.
Biting your lip with a grin, you coo at him, “You made something for me, baby? What is it?” You start making guesses, “Is it a little gadget that protects me? That’s sweet, but I don’t need that. I’m plenty strong on my own.”
“Oh, I know what you’re capable of, my beloved!” he bellows proudly. “Thisss is different. SSsomthing personal, for me and for you… I hope you’ll like it.” He turns away, digging into a bag you only just noticed. When he turns back around, in his hand is something you didn’t expect but also makes sense: an egg.
You eye it curiously, “Pen. Are you gifting me an egg?”
“Yesss... but not just any egg. Our egg,” he says, his hood flattening and eyes growing doe-eyed.
“Wait, what?” you tilt your head, now confused. Last time you checked, you didn't go egg hunting with him and—your eyes bulge out when realization sets in. “Heavens sake, Pen, did you-did you lay an egg?” You thought sinners couldn’t have children…
He shakes his head erratically. “Sssatan’s no. I created this one for us to—" He pauses to take a deep breath, closing his eyes. “To raise together,” he finishes, opening his eyes enough to peek at your reaction. He opens them fully after seeing you smiling.
“That’s the sweetest fucking gift anyone has ever gave me.” you open your arms for him, “Come here, baby.”
Delighted at your reaction, and never one to turn down physical invitations from you, he slithers over towards you. But in the moment of excitement, as he opens his arms to reciprocate, the egg slips through his hands and splats to the floor.
“Oh my God, Pen!” you shout horrified as he drops to the floor, mouth open in utter disbelief.
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midnightorchids · 5 months
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I love you and your writing. It makes me so happy to read your works!
Imagine Jason having his s/o move in with him. Imagine all the possibilities.
Like arranging the furniture together, showering together, taking turns cooking.
Or taking power naps together. I love me some soft Jason.
Omg stop!!! You’re literally so kind! Thank you for sending all these little scenarios, I always have so much fun writing them. Also, my apologies for getting back to you so late, I hope this little blurb makes up for it, enjoy reading!
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Jason stares at the small key in his large calloused hands and then at charcoal door in front of him. This is it, he thinks to himself. He runs his hands through his hair and then shifts his gaze to your face, it’s beaming with excitement. Jason tries to hold back his smile, but finds himself unable to do so. He reaches over to your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze.
He’s waited for this moment for a long time. He’s dreamt of owning a place with you, of days where the both of you will go to sleep together and you’ll still be there in the morning. He’s dreamt of making you breakfast and kissing your forehead before you go to work or school and then have you come right back home… to him.
Jason’s emotional honestly, there’s something so tender and domestic about the idea of building a life together in this apartment.
The apartment, it’s not very big and the walls are an awful shade of grey. The paint is chipping in some places and there’s some obvious water damage. But none of that matters because it’s yours. It’s your home and that thought alone is enough for you and Jason to be happy.
You’re both sitting in the empty kitchen, unpacking your boxes and Jason can imagine spending the rest of his life here with you.
He takes a mental picture of the moment, tucking it deep in his mind and engraving it in his heart. He hasn’t been able to stop smiling since he walked in through the door, he feels content, at peace.
You and Jason spent weeks scavenging through different vintage shops to find the perfect decor and furniture. There were countless trips to Ikea and multiple trips to the mall.
All of it was coming together now.
The thought of saying “our home” instead of “my house” made Jason feel giddy. He finally had a place to call his own with a person who felt like serenity.
Hours go by and you’re still working on getting your new place sorted.
You’re both sprawled out on the living room floor, putting together your new coffee table. There’s screws scattered across the floor and bubble wrap on the couch. There’s music playing on one of your phones as the speaker is still packed away in one of the boxes.
“This is so much fun! It’s like building life size legos,” Jason suddenly exclaims and you stare at him unamused, the hours of working finally catching up to you.
“Shut up Jay! You’re talking too much, I lost my page again,” you reply looking back at the paper manual in your hands, trying to find your page again. Jason looks up at you with a small pout.
“Don’t be mean, you know I’m sensitive,” he tries to say seriously, but the little smile on his face says otherwise. you shuffle over to his side on the floor and ruffle his hair.
“Aw I’m sorry baby, I’ll be nicer,” you say, realizing it might be time to take a break. “Should we postpone building furniture for a bit, I’m starving.” His face lights up and before you know it, he’s already in the kitchen gathering ingredients to make you soup and grilled cheese sandwiches. There’s not much in the fridge, but he’ll make do with what’s there.
You stare at him from across the room and this time, it’s your turn to click a mental photograph of the moment. He looks beautiful in your new kitchen, his hair’s messy, it’s in his eyes and he takes a second to push away the bangs. Then, he continues working away near the stove, humming along to the song playing on your phone. You can’t help, but admire him. You look forward to seeing him like this forever.
You make your way over to the kitchen and take a seat on the island counter, opposite to the stove. Jason tosses the final bit of ingredients in the pot and lets everything simmer. He looks over at you, leaning against the counter. He crosses his large arms against his body, his face soft and relaxed.
“I’m really happy, you know,” he says, grinning, and you scrunch your face into a big smile.
“I know Jay, I’m so happy too.”
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gallaghersgal · 8 months
Note
Lip Gallagher would fuck his girl so good after coming home from college and then be all domesticy
i fucking agree !! heres a little blurb for you <33 nsfw 18+. rough lip, unprotected p in v, praise, aftercare, domesticity
it's been so long since you've seen lip. five weeks, three days, and eleven hours. but who's counting anyway? it doesn't matter how long its been, or how much you missed him, how much you thought of him when he was away at school. he was here now. that was what mattered.
his hands and lips have been all over you since the moment he stepped off the L. you're alone in his room now, bent over his desk and crying from it. tears leak down your cheeks as he grips your now-messy ponytail in one hand.
"good fucking girl," he growls in your ear, thrusting sharper so that your hips are banging repeatedly against the desk. you whimper and press your ass back into him, you try to speak but all that comes out is a garbled moan of his name. he smiles at this, sharp and wicked as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass. "o-oh shit- missed this, jesus."
you manage to pant out, "fuck! missed it so much," before you're clenching around him and arching your back in a white-hot wave of pleasure.
lip coos in your ear, "so fuckin' tight f'me. tha's my girl." his hips speed up and his thrusts become erratic, his teeth biting down softly on your ear as he comes inside you.
you let out an exhausted whine and crumple into the desk, feeling his chest press against your back. he pulls out with a soft hiss, fingers trailing patterns over the expanse of your back as his lips map a trail of kisses across your nape. he really had missed you.
"lemme get ya some clean clothes," he murmurs, standing and cleaning himself up with a spare tee before searching his drawers for something of yours. he finds a loose tank top of his and a comfy little pair of shorts for you, cleaning you up with gentle hands and helping you to stand as he dressed you.
you smile warmly and lean yourself against lip's chest. his heartbeat is soft and quick under your ear, a stark contrast to how soft and sated you feel. his lips kiss your hairline with gentle fervor, smattering small pecks to whatever he can reach. "missed you," you murmur, to which he laughs softly.
"missed ya too, sweetheart." he replies, pulling away and finding a cozy sweater to wrap you in. "ian an' mickey are downstairs, an' i'm fuckin' hungry. c'mon," he tells you with a grin. he locks his fingers in yours and pulls you down the stairs, a sweet giggle floating effortlessly from your lips. he's here. he's home.
mickey wiggles his eyebrows at you suggestively, and lip swats his head, grabbing two beers from the fridge and tossing one in mickey's direction. lip hands the other beer to you and grabs the pack of cigs on the counter. he lights it from the stove burner as you crack your beer and grab a pan, all between pressing a kiss on his cheek.
"quesadilla?' you ask, holding up tortillas, cheese, and a bag of peppers. you watch lip's face break into a wide grin, reaching out and grabbing your waist to pull you into his side. he lands a kiss on your lips, his presence so warm all around you.
"yeah, babe. missed your cookin'" he murmurs, resting his cheek against your own for one quick, sweet moment. then, of course, the aura of peace is shattered when mickey speaks up.
"yeah sweets, lip can't cook for shit!"
lip moves to the doorway to bicker with mickey in the living room, and you can't help but laugh at their antics. they're annoying, but you love them to death. regardless of it's flaws, you wouldn't trade the current moment for anything in the world.
end.
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raginglesbian2006 · 7 months
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what is your vision on Alastor with a Male Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is kinda rough? Maybe, since Alastor loves dancing and singing, Reader or feels shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings or doesn't hate it and watches Alastor dance and sing
ooh, this is a fun ask, lets go
Alastor with a male reader who's the complete opposite of him
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So you joined the Hazbin Hotel out of genuine curiosity
You had died fairly young, almost in your late twenties. You have never figured out why you ended up in hell
So it is safe to say, that when you heard of the Hazbin Hotel, you were eager to join, albeit a little skeptical
Of course, it came with your fair share of anxiety when you knocked on the doors of the hotel and were greeted with the ever-smiling radio demon
It spooked your little heart TO THE CORE
Ah well, fast forward a few weeks later and you were adjusting well
Angel Dust was quite protective of you, claiming you to be his younger brother
Niffty initially took to you since she thought you were a "bad boy" but hey, at least she considers you as a friend now
Charlie and Vaggie have been sweet to you and so have Husk and Sir Pentious
Of course, you'd have trouble trying to bond with Alastor
Alastor was loud, boisterous, and loved to scare the living shit out of people whereas you were quiet, reserved, and soft-spoken
Alastor didn't even pay mind to you that much. To him, you were insignificant
All that changed when he tasted your food though. You cook a mean jambalaya. (You were surprised to find Alastor's plate clean when you just turned around for one second)
After that, the radio demon hung around you from time to time and you started growing comfortable with him as well
You were not a fan of him pulling you along to dance on random occasions when jazz played through the radios
Still, you tried your best to keep up with him. You weren't into all the swing dancing so you resolved to just watch him do all the work lol
You aren't that chatty of a person so you just listen to Alastor blab about anything and everything. He once told you that you were a good listener and patted your head
He gave you a personalized radio one day. He bragged about how he came up with the immaculate design but you were too flustered to notice
So it seemed was the rest of the hotel
The big bad radio demon gave you a gift??? Are we talking about the same radio demon here?
It didn't stop there. You were bombarded with gifts every other day. Sometimes it was books, flowers, tea cup sets, or a full-on attire (He gave you a coat that looked just like his, except with the colors reversed)
You asked Alastor about his...frequent gift-giving and he very bluntly stated, "Why, my dear, I am trying to court you after all. "
Error 404
He took you out on a date after you recovered from your slight panic attack
You realize you don't mind being the radio demon's boyfriend
He even started being respectful of your quiet nature. He quite likes the peace anyway
Vox is foaming at the mouth and plotting to kill you as we speak
A/N: This turned out a little different than I'd hoped but I hope you enjoy it!
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roosterforme · 5 months
Text
The Younger Kind Part 58 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley is hesitant to drive his family to Disneyland, and he's even more hesitant to make love to you. All he seems to be able to think about is the baby and his desire to plan the perfect, low-key wedding, but you make sure he takes some time to relax.
Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Bradley couldn't ever remember being this stressed out in his life. Well, besides every single time he had to deal with Meredith. The weeks had absolutely flown by, probably because he was not so secretly dreading driving up to Disneyland for Thanksgiving weekend. He'd voiced his opinions and concerns several times, but apparently your doctor's answer overrode his. Disneyland was happening, and the only thing he'd been able to insist upon for his own peace of mind was the addition of Nat.
Thanksgiving dinner at Mav and Penny's had been relaxing and peaceful. Bradley hadn't been home for the holiday the past two years, and it felt good to have a day to just appreciate everyone around him. Having you there made all the difference, and he knew he wanted you with him for every holiday from now on. You tried to help Penny cook and clean up, but everyone else insisted you rest and just enjoy yourself.
That was just a few hours ago, and now the sun had set, and Noah was in his pajamas. Bradley buckled him in the backseat of the Bronco before checking to make sure all of the bags made their way in as well. That's when he heard the argument coming from the sidewalk. 
"You can sit in the front," you insisted. "I don't mind sitting in the back with Noah."
"No, no," Nat replied, "I insist. I'll sit in the back so you can sit with Bradley."
"But I kind of want to sit with Noah," you told her. "You can sit with Bradley and talk about work."
"Or," Nat replied, "you and he can hammer out some of the wedding details while you sit in the front with him."
"Are you both serious right now?" Bradley asked as he slammed the tailgate shut. "Neither of you want to sit with me?"
He held his arms out to his sides, and you rushed over to give him a hug with a little smirk on your face. "I'm sorry, Daddy," you whispered, pressing your cheek to his chest and giving him a hug. "It's just that Noah is so sweet, and he'd probably hold my hand until he falls asleep."
Nat used this opportunity to get herself situated next to Noah with a bright smile on her face. "You know, I expect this kind of thing from her, but not from you, Princess," Bradley said before kissing the top of your head. "Get in the front and hold my hand instead?"
Thirty minutes later, Bradley was driving up the highway, and he was the only one awake as your hand rested softly in his. He stroked your knuckles and your ring as he wove along the roads on the way up to Anaheim. "I can't believe what you've done to my life," he whispered, shaking his head but smiling. At the beginning of the year, he'd been stressed out pretty much all the time. He would have never planned a trip to Disneyland just for him and Noah, because every day felt impossible back then. If he was honest with himself, every day still felt challenging now with Noah getting older and the baby on the way, but nothing was ever harder because of you. It was always better.
He heard rustling in the backseat, and when he glanced in his mirror, he saw that Nat was awake. "Javy texted me," she said with a yawn when she met his eyes. "He said your dog is a pussy magnet."
Bradley snorted. "Let me guess. He took her for a walk and women came out of the woodwork to talk to him?"
She hummed and said, "Maybe leaving Skittles with him for the weekend was a bad idea."
"Nah," Bradley replied, stifling his laughter. "I'm sure he told them that he already has a really mean girlfriend and that she would kick their asses if they looked at him too long."
She leaned forward and smacked the back of his head. "I'm not mean."
"Sure, Nat."
"Hey, I did the impossible by finding you a wife. That's nice person shit right there."
"Yet with the undertone of condescension," Bradley replied, making her laugh. "I do owe you though. And you won't even let me say thank you."
This time she patted him gently on the back of his head. "You can say it one time."
"Thanks, Nat."
----------------------------
You vaguely remembered half walking and half being carried up to the hotel room in your state of exhaustion. Thanksgiving had taken more out of you than you thought considering you barely did anything to help Mav and Penny with dinner or dessert. But apparently the turkey made you sleepy. Everything was making you sleepy now. But you were finally past the progesterone shots, and your doctor said everything was looking good.
Friday morning when you woke up as the sun just started peeking in through the window, you jolted up in bed naked. Bradley was still asleep next to you, snoring softly, but you looked around the room a bit frantically. "Daddy," you gasped, shaking him awake. "Bradley! Where's Noah?"
He rolled onto his back and looked up at you through barely cracked open eyes. "Princess?" he rasped, simply reaching for you and trying to pull you back against him. But the other bed was empty, and your heart wouldn't calm down.
"Where's Noah?" you repeated, and now he started to sit up.
"Next door," he mumbled. "He's in the other room with Nat, Baby."
You placed your hand over your heart and eased yourself back down onto the pillow as you whispered, "Right. Right. Sorry, I just barely remember you even bringing me to the room last night."
"Don't apologize," he murmured next to your ear as he pulled you closer to him. "You're the best Mommy." His face was pressed against your neck and shoulder, and his arm was like a boa constrictor, tightening little by little until around your ribs until you were snug against him. You felt protected and loved as the sound of his steady breathing calmed you down. But he had morning wood, and you could feel Bradley's erection firm and long against the back of your thigh as he spooned you. 
It had literally been months since you felt his cock thrusting inside you. You and he hadn't had vaginal intercourse since before he left for his special flight mission in Japan, and now you were aching painfully. Sure, you'd had fun getting him off with your hands, mouth and breasts for the last four weeks, and he'd been very generous with his lips, mustache and fingers. But you wanted him to fill you up. 
"Bradley," you whispered, trying to figure out if he'd fallen back to sleep again behind you, but when he grunted your first name, you moaned. He bucked against you even though you knew he was trying not to. "My doctor said it's okay now."
His rough thumb was stroking your nipple as he rasped, "I know, but maybe we shouldn't risk it. I can wait until after the baby is born."
An absolutely scandalized noise escaped you. "I love you for that, Daddy, I really do, but I don't think I can make it five more months."
"I'll go down on you," he said, letting his hand skim along your growing belly until he was cupping your pussy. "Happily." But you were pinned between his rock hard cock and his hand, and you knew exactly what you needed.
"I want your cock," you demanded. "It's perfectly safe for the baby now that my uterus is fixed up. And I want it."
Rarely did you ever tell him that you wanted something, and you almost never whined, but the combination of the two seemed to set him off a little bit. He was twitching and pulsing against your leg, and you felt him reach down to free himself from the confines of his underwear. Skin on skin was enough to make you whine his name a little louder. When you eased your leg up and back over his hip, you could feel the tip of him rubbing against your wet pussy.
"Take me just like this. Nice and slow from behind," you whispered, and his only response was a long string of obscenities as he pushed his cock just an inch or so inside you. 
"Baby," he ground out as his hand squeezed your hip. "Slow. Real slow. I don't want to hurt either of you."
You gasped, "You won't," as he slid himself deeper and deeper before eventually bottoming out with his hips pressed to your butt. "Oh god, you feel so good."
Bradley kept himself still, just like that, barely moving but filling you up regardless. "Shit," he whimpered next to your ear. "Fuck, it's been months." His voice was so rough, and his hot breath left goosebumps trailing down you back and arm. When you wiggled back against him, he grunted. "I'm not gonna last."
"I don't care," you told him, guiding his rough fingers to your clit and enjoying every sensation his body gave you. He smelled good, and he was warm and strong and big. Big everywhere. His lips found the spot right behind your ear, and he sucked gently. Your nipples were tender peaks, and your belly was just starting to show proof of your pregnancy. There was evidence of those days of rough sex from the summer all over your body, but right now he was gentler than ever.
"Am I hurting you?" he whispered before taking your earlobe between his lips. His thrusts were smooth and languid, and you could feel every bit of him.
"No. You're perfect." That had his fingers working a little more frantically on your clit, but he kept the same pace with his thrusts. Slow and steady and never rough. 
But he got you there. "Baby," he whined, punching and plucking until you were sure your clit was a tight little ball of nerves against his fingertips. You started to squeeze around him, and he held still, more filthy cursing filling your ears as he spilled his cum inside you.
"Oh. Daddy," you moaned softly as you came in his embrace with his body pressed to your back. You couldn't stop yourself from bumping back against him as you fucked yourself gently along his cock, enjoying every little tremor and tremble.
"Tell me I didn't hurt you," he whispered, easing his wet fingers up along your belly, cupping where you imagined the baby was right now. "Please."
You turned to look at his earnest eyes over your shoulder and said, "You didn't hurt me."
"I love you, Princess." A series of soft knocks made you jump in his arms, and Bradley groaned as the knocking continued. He was still inside you as he said, "That's gotta be Noah."
You realized there was a door conjoining the next room with yours, and you could hear Noah's little voice calling out. "Daddy? Mommy? I want to meet Mickey Mouse."
With one more kiss to your shoulder, Bradley withdrew himself from your body, inspected his cock and then pulled his underwear back up. "Go make sure you're okay," he commanded as he stood. "I'll take care of Noah."
Carefully, still blissfully aware of the way that orgasm left your skin tingling, you made your way into the bathroom as Bradley's cum dribbled down your inner thighs. You cleaned yourself up, and there was no sign of blood at all. You took a quick shower, and you felt amazing. When you eventually emerged from the bathroom all wrapped up in your towel, you found your boys both dressed and ready to go and sitting on the edge of the unused bed.
"Mommy," Noah whined. "I'm hungry and I want to meet Mickey Mouse."
You bent and kissed his soft curls as you said, "Well take care of both of those things for you. Promise."
----------------------------
Disneyland was simultaneously the most wonderful and most anxiety inducing place Bradley had ever been. The look on Noah's face as the four of you explored the parks together made Bradley smile, but every time you started to look tired, he wasn't sure it was worth it. But then you'd smile at him, too. He'd give you anything you wanted.
"Are you okay?" he asked, collecting you in his arms as Nat rode the teacups with Noah for the third time in a row. "You sure I didn't hurt you this morning?"
A little smile curled along your glossy lips before you kissed him softly. Then you kissed him again and again. It was bad enough that you looked so much younger than him; he got a few raised eyebrows here and there. But then you always called him Daddy with absolutely no shame whatsoever. It always got under his skin and made him run a little hot, but now you had your belly pressed against him as you kissed your way back close to his ear.
"Daddy," you crooned. "You didn't hurt me one bit. You gave me exactly what I needed. Your big cock."
"Baby," he whispered, squeezing your hips in warning. "Don't get us kicked out of the happiest place on Earth."
You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. "You know what would make it even happier?"
"Don't say it," he rasped, shaking his head as you looked up at him. "I'm begging."
You just smirked. "Sneaking off to that family bathroom..."
Bradley tipped his head back and groaned while you giggled. "You said it."
Finally having sex again in the hotel room this morning before Noah practically kicked down the door in search of breakfast seemed to make you extra clingy. Not that Bradley minded one bit. He didn't. He loved it. But you had been alone when you had to go to the emergency room last month, and he was still on edge about everything that happened when he was in Japan. 
When you started tugging on his arm, he shook his head again. "No. Not here. Only where I can be as gentle with you as possible."
Then you were in his arms again telling him how sweet he was, and Bradley was just a lost cause. 
"I'm tapping out," Nat announced as she and Noah walked over hand in hand. "That ride is okay the first two times, but after that, it's evil."
"I loved it!" Noah announced as Bradley picked him up. 
"Of course you did," he said, kissing his son's cheek. "What do you want to do now? Another ride? Get a snack?"
"Meet Mickey Mouse!"
Bradley groaned for an entirely different reason. The line to meet the characters was pretty long, but you'd insisted on buying something called an autograph book, so he said, "Sure, Bub. We can go meet the main mouse."
Bradley held hands with both you and Noah while Nat led the way, talking with her hands and bouncing like she was Tigger to make Noah giggle. Bradley was right, the line was long, but it was worth it. Noah didn't complain about how much time it was taking, but he did ask you to pick him up over and over again.
"Let me hold you," Nat offered, but Noah kept reaching for you instead. When Bradley told him he was too heavy, tears filled his eyes and his face scrunched up.
"Sweet Noah," you whispered, kissing his cheek and kind of cuddling up with him while he was in Bradley's arms. "Don't cry. I'm right here. I'm just not allowed to lift things like big, growing boys who love dinosaurs and coloring books, okay?" You wiped at his tears with your thumbs, and Bradley was once again mesmerized by you. "That's better," you told him. "I don't want you to cry right before we get to meet Mickey Mouse."
Noah sniffled and nodded, and you didn't move away from his as the line moved up. "You're amazing," Bradley whispered. "Mommy of the year."
"There he is!" Nat gasped, perhaps more excited than all of the kids in the line put together. "Mickey! And I'm not talking about Fanboy!"
Bradley chuckled as the Mouse beckoned them forward to take photos. 
------------------------
"How about we ride something else?" Bradley asked, but you watched Noah tug him back toward It's a Small World. 
"This is my favorite!"
"Noah," he laughed, "you've said that about every single ride all day long."
"No, this one," Noah insisted.
"Just one more time?" you asked, also tugging on Bradley.
"We've been on it seven times in a row," he insisted, shaking his head.
"Six times," Nat replied, pushing him from behind. 
"Natasha, the song is going to kill me," he said, taking a few steps toward the line queue again. "I'll never be able to get it out of my head."
But the three of you won, of course. Because he was willing to do anything that you and Noah wanted. And that included riding a boat past legions of slightly creepy, singing, animatronic children. "You'll be fine," you insisted, rubbing his abs. "After this, we'll feed you dinner."
"You better," he mumbled, winking at you. "And I need more Mickey shaped snacks, too."
To your delight and Noah's, Bradley willingly rode It's a Small World three more times and sang the song nearly the whole time. "I'm going to annoy you with this forever," he whispered in your ear as the little boat sailed along. 
You looked up at him and said, "Please do. That means you'll be around forever."
His eyes widened in soft surprise. "I'm not going anywhere." You felt his thumb run across your engagement ring where he was holding your hand in his lap. "Just a couple more weeks and we'll be married."
The fact that he was taking care of most of the planning without showing any signs of stress was amazing to you. As the song played on repeat and the dancing animatronics spun around, you tapped your foot. "You really want to get married so soon?" you asked him. 
"Hell yes. I already told you I did."
"Even if it's just a backyard wedding?"
Bradley gave you all of his focus like you were the only thing in his world when he said, "All we really need is both of us and Noah for it to be perfect."
"Technically we also need Natasha," you added, and he rolled his eyes.
"Fine. We also need Natasha. But that's only because she got ordained online. Other than that, I don't really care about the details too much. I just want to see you in a wedding dress."
You bit your lip and moaned. "Nothing fits me great right now. And I feel like my belly is really going to pop out one day soon."
"I can't wait," he grunted, making you shiver at the tone of his voice. "Jesus, I hope your belly gets bigger in the next three weeks."
His lips found your neck, and this time you were the one who had to remind him that you were very much in the middle of Disneyland sharing a seat in the boat with Nat and Noah. But now you had a better idea of what kind of dress you should get; you'd been holding off, hoping to figure out how to get one that would still fit for the big day. 
"So you want to be able to see the bump in the wedding photos?"
"Princess," he grunted. "God, yes. But don't you dare make me hard on It's a Small World."
You were still laughing as the boat floated up to the exit and you climbed out.
-----------------------
"Stop," you and Nat whined in unison as Bradley started singing the Small World song again on the drive back to San Diego on Sunday. But he just smiled and finished, dodging away from your hand as you tried to cover his mouth from the passenger seat. This time, he saw you and Nat playing rock, paper, scissors to see who got to sit in the back with Noah. Your rock lost to her paper, so you were in the front with him. 
"This is your punishment for being mean," he said as Noah napped. "And I'm talking to both of you."
"I'm just happy that you loved Disneyland," you said over his singing. You were looking at wedding dresses on your phone and holding the selections up for Nat to look at. Bradley had to fight to keep his eyes on the road instead of the screen, but he honestly did want to be surprised. 
"Hey, what am I supposed to wear?" he asked, realizing that you'd seen him in most of his nicer clothes when he was leaving you at home with Noah to go on app dates. He'd have to buy something new, something just for you. Something to make the day special.
"Doesn't matter," Nat said followed by a low whistle as she held your phone. "Nobody will even notice you if your wife is wearing this dress. Holy shit."
Bradley glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Noah was still asleep. "It's that good?" he asked as you looked a little bashful next to him. "Buy it. Put it on your princess card."
"It has two-day shipping," Nat said. "If you don't like it, we can go out and look at some other options on Wednesday after work."
"I don't know..." you said, hesitating as you took your phone back and looked at whichever dress Nat thought was perfect. 
"Buy it, Baby, or I won't shut up for the next hour." Bradley cleared his throat and started singing, "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears. It's a world of hopes, and a world of fears."
"Fine!" you said, scrambling with your phone as Nat covered her ears. "I'm buying it!"
Bradley smiled at the road before him and muttered, "Gotta love Disney."
-----------------------
If you have Princess wedding dress inspo (that will show off her little bump just like Bradley is hoping) please send it to me! I'm thinking we will end up with 62 parts for this story, which is absolutely wild to me. Thanks for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 59
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jupiter-letters · 5 months
Text
Dating Number 4/ Klaus Hargreeves would include☂️👻:
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Fem! or GN! Reader TW: Brief mentions of addiction
A/N: I started Umbrella Academy a week ago and I’m obsessed, I’m almost done with season 3 and I can’t wait for season 4. I’d managed to fall in love with Robert Sheehan all over again and all that love has to go somewhere so here it is.
Waking up to little peppered kisses on your back and up your torso. If you don’t open your eyes he’ll just start blowing raspberries into your neck and on your face. Once he hears you laughing he’ll stop and flip you over. He likes being the first thing you see when you wake up. Some days are a little more peaceful and less silly, you wake to see him still asleep. A mess of curls and smudged glitter eyeshadow is the first thing you see. He’s at such peace and the most still you’ll ever see him. 
Putting makeup on each other, whether it’s going out or just playing around with new looks it doesn’t matter. Being able to experiment with new colors and combinations with each other is so much fun. On date nights you’ll pick outfits for each other, sometimes even just wearing each other’s clothes. Doing things like this with him leads to doing most things together. 
Why have him do things when you can do it for him? Or even with him? He loves having you wash his hair. Showers, baths? Of course we have to both be in there at the same time! Klaus is so touch starved any reason to spend time together he’ll take it,an added bonus is your company keeps the spirits away. 
You’re always in close proximity to each other, so your skin is always touching. Klaus just can’t get enough, physical touch becomes his middle name. He’s a natural affectionate person but just having you near is very grounding for him. 
He’ll draw on you with little glitter pens he carries in his pocket, he likes to call you his “canvas and his muse.” Even without the pens he’ll trace random shapes and words onto your arm or your back when you both lie in bed. Klaus also likes to play with your fingers when he’s bored.
Kissing!! He’s such a fiend for kissing my god, after that first kiss he’s finished. He always says he wants just one but it ends up escalating to a full on make out sesh. Doesn’t matter if you’re public or not you look too good it’d be a crime not to kiss you. Klaus doesn’t really give a damn about public embarrassment, if you wanted him to he’d run through central park naked, he would.
 Once he knows you’re ok with all the random bursts of affection he really piles it on. Neck kisses, shoulder kisses, nose kisses, not one day goes by where he doesn’t kiss you. He kisses like he wants to devour you, if he wasn’t able to kiss you that’d be hell on Earth. If you’re a fan of random kisses at the most inappropriate times he’s a professional. You’re driving, he’s gonna make out with you. Out shopping, kissing! Right now! Doctor’s appointment? Kisses under your jaw in the waiting room, he can’t help it, he's bored.
Helping him get clean, you and Ben have been pretty good influences in his life. Trying to keep him on the straight and narrow for the sake of his health. He wants to be present for you, he wants to be able to remember the things you do together. You help him find fun things to do without getting drugs involved. Taking your time and being patient with him means the world to him. He loves his siblings but they aren’t the best at helping him with it. They do try a little harder when you come around seeing how serious you are about helping him. You stay awake with him when his nightmares get too bad or when the withdrawal is really wearing him down. If it’s the ghosts that are bothering him you just tell them to piss off.(he really appreciates that)
Klaus begins to teach himself new skills to help you out around the house, cooking, cleaning you name it. He doesn’t do it very well but you appreciate the effort anyway. Chores become another activity for you both to do. He’ll even indulge in some of your hobbies just for the fun of it. 
Tattoos! He gets something on his wrist that reminds him of you, he can’t wait to show you too. If you get one related to him, god forbid a little number 4 on you he’ll cry. He does eventually tell you about the rest of his journey in Vietnam and Dave. Klaus wants to be sure you know he won’t compare you to him, He’ll always love Dave but he doesn’t love you any less. He’ll get really shy if you kiss his hand tattoos, there aren’t a lot of ways to fluster him so that’s a good one. 
Being surrounded by death and destruction most of his life really makes him appreciate what you have. The way you indulge in his antics and impulses makes Klaus feel so seen. You don’t feel real to him sometimes; late at night he’ll just lay his head on your chest and listen to your heart beating. 
When some crazy new developments or drama happens in his family you’re first to know. Luther tells him something very personal and secret and 15 mins later he’s calling you on the mansion’s phone. 
Luther: “This stays between us Klaus I mean it…” Klaus: “Of course Lulu I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone you’re dirty little secret” A few moments later… Klaus: “Babe you’ll never believe what Luther just told me!”
He’ll always be looking at you, wherever you are and whatever you’re doing you have his full attention. Klaus will just be gazing at you lovingly while five is trying to talk to him, eventually he’ll just ignore him and go to talk to you. You're his favorite person to talk to; he never gets bored with you.
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Thanks for reading! Lemme know what you think. Please like or reblog if you like my stuff.
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gojomamashouse · 11 months
Text
Taking Care of You
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader
Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.
Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.
A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.
3.7k words
18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!
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You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.
"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"
"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”
Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.
Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.
A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.
“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”
“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”
Just let me take care of it.
A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.
He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.
His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.
“What’s this?” He picked it up.
“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”
There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.
You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.
“Let me help with that,” he said.
You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.
But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.
“Mike?”
He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.
“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”
In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.
“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”
You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.
“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”
“Why?”
You avert your gaze.
“I just do.”
“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.
“Because this feels like home.”
The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.
You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.
“Mike?”
“Yeah?
“Let me take care of you. Please?”
He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?
The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.
“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.
Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.
“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”
You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.
“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.
“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.
“Then talk to me.”
“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”
“You started a fight, didn’t you?”
“Something like that.”
He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”
“You don’t need to pay me.”
“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”
He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.
Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.
He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.
“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.
“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”
“Yeah?”
Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.
“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”
He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.
“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”
You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.
“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.
“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”
You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?
He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.
“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”
He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.
You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.
He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.
He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.
“Such a good girl,” he breathes.
“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”
Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.
He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.
“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“
Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.
“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
He hears you laugh.
“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”
“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”
He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.
You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.
You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.
“Abby, go away!”
“No! Let me—“
“What’s all this?” You interject.
Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.
“Abby, I can explain—“
“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”
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dontexpectmuch · 4 months
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Jude with a mechanical engineering student, and she's working on f1 and is a good friend of the drivers and jude gets jealous and hard launches at a race? She works for redbull and is friends with the real Madrid guys, ty, God bless
jude is aware of how much attention he gets, no matter where he goes or whom he talks to. so many people shy away from talking to him due to all the eyes that were on him, yet he tries to stay positive and look at the bright side of the picture. as a rising star, it can be hard to meet someone that would willingly hide their relationship from the world, though when he got to know you, he felt like his prayers have had finally been answered.
it was the miami grand prix he had been invited to, ferrari have shown their interest about his appearance multiple times and when his other friends finally had the time to come along, he immediately went to the race and enjoyed his time there.
it was also the place where he met the cute engineering student that was walking out of the rivals garage, cute cap with the official team shirt on, baggy pants and a book in hand. he sneaked away from the group and followed you to the water fountain in the middle of the two garages, desperately trying to look cool yet uninterested.
so when you two fall into a conversation [slight argument] about the team and who would win the race, jude knew that he had to keep in touch with you, exactly what he did.
now, two years later, the two of you have been in a private and secret relationship, something both of you enjoyed at the beginning. the relationship blossomed quietly, only his most trusted friends knew about it, same with you. having an intelligent partner who works for one of the best sports team ever is something that jude is incredibly proud [and turned on] of, it’s like a match made in heaven. no one could disturb your little bubble of happiness and peace, and you would like to keep it that way as long as you can.
but these days, jude really wants to post about his relationship, just to mark his territory. just to let all of those sneaky, weird, [and attractive, fuck] drivers know that their ‘friend’ slash engineer was off the market.
especially now, when all you talk about is the garage and the people you work with.
“well, and then i told max to-“
you immediately stop talking when you hear jude let out an annoyed sigh, eyes wide as you look at your boyfriend.
the atmosphere around you is quite comfortable, you’d say, or at least it is to you. it has been quite some since you were able to sit down and have a nice, home cooked meal together. normally your schedules clash during the week, and weekends were spent outside the house, exploring new places and trying new things.
and normally, jude would love to hear you talk about your week, about the new stuff you learned that he definitely did not understand, but the sparkle inside your eyes made it all worth it. he didn’t know why he is so annoyed about you talking about the person you literally work with, more likely work for, but just hearing the name drop from your lips makes him want to go and shoot a ball at all of their heads.
“uh, you okay, my love?” your concern for him makes jude melt, and he wishes that he could just ignore this negative feeling growing inside of him, yet he simply can’t.
he shrugs, corners if his lips turning slightly down, “don’t know, why don’t you ask your little friend max. that’s what you always do, right?”
he knew that this was the moment he royally fucked up, no turning back now.
when you frown and look at him with those confused eyes, jude gets even more worked up than he should.
as if you don’t know what he is talking about.
“i beg your pardon, jude?”
you called him ‘jude’, meaning you were also getting worked up about the situation, well, his behavior.
he scoffs again, getting up from the table to put his empty plate away.
it was delicious, he would say, but right now he just wants to be pissed about this whole situation [that he started].
you copy his movements, actually quite sad that your usual chat time after eating is interrupted by this petty argument.
“hey, ‘m talkin’ to you.” your confusion does not seem to go away, no matter how you try to look at the situation. jude simply takes your plate from your hands and places it inside the dishwasher, before he dries his hands to continue the conversation [discussion].
“all ‘m sayin’ is that you love to be seen with your little racer buddies instead of with me.” he moves out of the kitchen back to the dining table to pick up the other dishes and the drinks.
“what the fuck?” is all you can say about his statement as you take the drinks from his hands to put them into the fridge, “what do you mean i ‘love to be seen’ with them? i work with those people and actually get along with them, just like you do with your teammates.”
the tension [not the hot one] between you rises by the second and jude is once again walking around the apartment, “that’s not the same.”
“the fuck you mean it’s not the same? it literally is?”
a few minutes ago jude would have [maybe, probably not] admitted that he might have gone too far with what he had said to you, but now seeing you getting so offensive about something that bothers him, he no longer feels like he should back off. instead he wants to win this, he wants you to understand that he is right and that you being seen with others could be, no it is, disrespectful to your relationship.
“you are my girlfriend, why would you want to be seen with other guys?!” raising his voice was something he rarely did whenever you guys argued. he preferred to keep calm in order to avoid hurting you in any way. but right now, his voice was getting louder with each argument he made, heating up the whole conversation even more.
you genuinely did not understand why he would come up with this argument all of a sudden, it is not the first time that you are seen at max’ side at races or maybe even next to others. you had a healthy relationship with most drivers and pleasant conversations with them in between races and breaks. everyone knew that you are the intern who will soon work for the redbull racing team, and jude actually was the one to be the proudest of you. it is literally how and where you guys met.
“the reason why i am seen with them is because, one; i work with them. we have to talk a lot because of the development of the car and i still have to learn a lot from the other engineers. two, i get along with them, you know, like normal co workers do, because, fuck, why not? you know all of this.” you feel your throat straining with how much and how loud you are talking, but the rage inside of you somehow numbs the pain.
“so people thinking that you are dating one of them also comes with the job, yeah?”
jude now stands tall in front if you, nostrils flared and eyes wide. he isn’t mad at you entirely, he knows it, but more like at the situation and the people that dare to pair you with someone that is not him.
but you cannot know that he isn’t mad at you, because in your eyes it seems like he is blaming you for the stuff the media puts into the news. your heart beats faster than ever and this whole situation makes your head spin.
“i don’t control what the media says? like, it’s not in my hands? to them i am a single woman who is successfully working for a motorsport team, rumors are bound to happen?”
“well, there is always some truth behind rumors, right?”
something inside you snapped, “what about you, huh?!”
jude almost flinched when you suddenly raised your voice at him, a sight he has never seen before.
“you also get paired up with a new woman every fucking day, jude. do you see me complain about it? no! because i trust you.” right now, you really wished to cry. was it that hard to understand?
the comfortable atmosphere from a few minutes ago vanished entirely, coldness and a bitter feeling on your tongue seem to have replaced it. during the two years you and jude havr spent together, you never had such an argument to this extent.
“but i am never pictured next to those people! i never even talked to them ever in my life!”
suddenly still, your eyes widened, mouth dry as you speak up, “are you accusing me of cheating on you?”
silent.
jude looks at you with his mouth open, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.
“no, never…” the stark contrast between your voices now compared to just a second ago is almost cinematic, as if you had practiced this scene multiple times already. silently looking at one another, eyes dancing around the others faces in order to understand what just had happened.
“do you also think that way when i talk to aurelien and eduardo?” your voice breaks as you speak up, a defeated feeling replaces the rage inside, “do you actually think like this of me?”
judes shoulders sack down as he listens to you speak, this is absolutely not something he ever thought of, nor would he ever dare to accuse you of such thing.
he wants to speak up, yet you quickly cut him off, “just for your information, to the media and the rest to the world, we both are single individuals who don’t even know each other. and all the guys on the grid know that i am a taken person, they would never do such thing.”
you scoff as you shake your head, turning around to go to the front door.
jude panics as he watches your fast steps, immediately following you, “what- uh, where are you going?”
you quickly put on your shoes and put your bag on your shoulders, not in the mood to continue any of this, “wanna go home.”
“but this is home-“
your head snaps to his direction, eyes cold, “apparently not. at least not now.”
jude closes his hand around your wirst, not wanting you to go away when the situation between you is so heated.
“let’s find a solution, babe, c’mon.” he begs, voice husky and desperate. he did not know that it would escalate like this, but now he regrets to even bring up this topic.
you sigh, all of this arguing took a toll on you and now you want to do nothing more but lay in your bed and not to think of anything anymore.
inhaling deeply, you look at jude, his big brown eyes never left yours anyway, and he truly does look like he wants to fix this, which you do too.
“listen,” you begin, taking one last deep breath, “you cannot accuse me of such thing and then expect me to do nothing about it-“
“i don’t want you to do anything, just, let’s stop arguing.”
scoffing, you tighten the grip on your bag, “you started all if this because apparently, you do not trust me, jude.”
“it’s babe-“
“it’s jude right now, don’t test me.” you threaten him, not in the mood for his little jokes.
shaking your head, an almost mocking laugh leaves your lips, “we decided to keep our relationship a secret. you, by the way, wanted to do it this way the most. i would have launched our relationship ages ago, because i trust you and i trust our bond. y’know, communicating and stuff.”
judes voice cracks slightly as he speaks up, deep sigh leaving his body as he tries to hold your hand, a sign that he is getting desperate, “i trust you, too, babe. ‘t’s just- i don’t know, like, rumors and shit and i don’t want you to have reporters on your neck at all times, y’know.”
you frown at his words, “but that does not explain why you literally sprung at me for mentioning max, or the others. when we first started dating, i already knew what would come along with being with you, and i would take it all, jude, everything.”
jude smiles at your words, now looking down at your hands, so you continue, “all those annoying rumors about me, people following me and what not, i genuinely will take it all, because i love you. not max, not lando nor charles or whomever you’re jealous of.”
“i ain’t jealous.” he rolls his eyes, slowly stepping closer to you.
“don’t lie to me, belli.” you smirk at him.
jude chuckles, his thumb dancing across your knuckles help you to be at ease.
“soo.”
“sooo?” you look at him confused, waiting for him to continue.
“do we just post a picture together? or like, do a sex tap-“
“shut it.” you pinch his waist, chuckling as he squirms away from your touch, “we will do a, hm, maybe a soft launch? yeah, something like that.”
jude groans, throwing his head back, “that takes way too long.”
“well,” you shrug, “ that’s what you get for literally yelling at me for doing my job.”
“and i’m sorry, love.” judes hand now caresses your cheek softly, head tilted down as his bog brown eyes apologetically look at yours, “next time, i will calmly ask you about something that bothers me, okay?”
“okay.” you smile at him, leaning into his touch.
“you have a race this weekend, no?”
“yeah, in belgium this time, why?”
“just because.”
-
“still trouble in paradise?” you hear landos [annoying] kind voice from behind you, making you draw your eyebrows together.
turning around, you tilt your head in question, “wait, how do you know?”
lando innocently smiles at you, shrugging his shoulders, “max and i are somewhat besties, y’know.”
“max.” you grumble, already planning on how to get your revenge from him.
“so? everything okay now?” lando questions again, this time in a slightly more serious manner than before.
“it’s always okay between us, just rocky at times.” you tell him, not stopping yourself from smiling when you think of your boyfriend.
lando nods his head at something behind you, “seems like goal-machine over there still wants to rip off my head, though.”
“goal-machine-?” you turn around and are immediately met with the sight of jude leaning against some tires in the garage.
he looks good, you must admit. sunglasses on too of his nose, oversized shirt with the first few buttons undone, night dress pants and matching shoes, a real snack.
a snack that should not be here, or well, a snack you did not know that would be here. so, you bid your goodbyes to lando and walk closer to jude, coming to halt a fee steps in front of him.
“eh, hi?” you greet him, confused but happy.
he smiles down at you, taking off his glasses to get a better look at you, “hey there, sexy lady.”
you scoff, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms in front of your chest, “not now, i am working, y’know.”
“chatting it up with little lad over there is quite some work, huh?” jude points at lando with his head, who still, you don’t know why, is standing inside the redbull garage, subtly [nit really] glancing at your direction every now and then.
“lando just likes to annoy me, nothing more.” you explain, smiling as you watch jude stand up straight.
“well, let’s annoy him back.” he smirks down at you.
“how-“
jude cuts you off by placing his soft lips on top of yours as his muscular arm sneaks around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. at first you feel like resisting, but the more he deepened the kiss, the more you could not get enough of it. tilting your head to gain better control, you feel up his chest before you place your hands at the back of his next, enjoying this public display of affection more than ever. maybe because it is the first time you’ve ever done something like this in a place like the garage-
you immediately push jude away, eyes wide open, “jude! there are cameras everywhere!”
he just smiles down at you, that little tease, before taking your hand into his, “you wanted to go public anyway.”
“i wanted a soft launch, though! i always wanted to soft launch a relationship.” you whine, moving closer to out your forehead against his chest in defeat.
“you can still soft launch it, love.”
you shake your head, still against his chest while you feel his hand move up and down your back, “no, let me grieve in peace, please.”
“love you too, babe.”
“shut it, you ruined my dreams.”
“you’re welcome.”
———————————————————————
enjoy 🥰
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llamagoddessofficial · 4 months
Note
hello llama
i have been thinking and headcanoning about vampire bad sanses lately, so i was curious if you have any thoughts about or interest in vampires of the nightmare and crew variety? (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)
"do i have interest in vampires", he asks
ok, i will share my extensive vampire brainrot. but in return..... you have to write that vampire fic.... oooOOooO look into my eyes you know you want to write it ooOoOooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
I very much like the idea of Nightmare's castle being Castlevania-style. Lots of spooky architecture, lots of ancient magical passages that haven't been seen in centuries.
Horror can be summed up in one word. Bloodlust. There's a constant hunger inside him he can't ever seem to fill, driving him almost to the point of madness. He is more beast than man. When he smells or tastes blood, he loses control of himself, becoming little more than a starving wild animal - his capability for slaughter is limited only by his appetite. So unless Nightmare requires it, he generally abstains from blood. He doesn't like losing himself so entirely.
Something about you makes him forget his hunger. Is it your voice? Your scent? He has no idea, but oh, it feels good to feel whole. When you're around it's as if he'll never be hungry again... he follows you like a dog, grinning intensely every time you look at him. This is one hound that can't be shaken.
Despite his 'condition', he finds a lot of solace in cooking. Nothing will give him the same drug-like rush as blood but human food is nonetheless warm and filling and distracts him momentarily from the emptiness. He enjoys the process of making it, too, doing something with his hands. Let him cook for you, please? Watching you eat brings him vicarious joy.
Dust's backstory is one of legend. Something resembling a story can be spun from the loose whispers. A vampire invaded his peaceful isolated village hundreds of years ago, intending to turn the helpless populace into enslaved vampires. Dust, the first to be bitten, turned and slaughtered them all himself - and despite being a vampire for barely a week, the equivalent of a stumbling newborn, he killed the centuries-old invading vampire in single combat.
No one's quite sure why he's joined Nightmare. Perhaps Nightmare was keen to take this uniquely violent creature under his wing, and Dust just didn't really care where the wind took him. Or perhaps he has some other motive, hidden beneath that silent face. Who knows.
... Dust might be quiet, but it's obvious he's fixated on you. Which is a big deal. This is a creature who hasn't mustered a second thought for anything but blood for decades; but somehow, you've excited him. He's very clearly interested in you, silently watching your every move, listening intently to every word you say. Too bad he's not much for conversation.
Killer's backstory, on the other hand, is shrouded entirely in mystery. No one knows where he came from, who he is, or what he's done. He simply appeared one day - right within the coveted inner circle of Nightmare himself. He's the Night King's most trusted weapon, and the closest thing he has to a friend.
Killer seems very clear about what he wants. He thinks you're adorable, and he says you'd make such a pretty vampire. He talks (at length) about how much he wants to bite you, and how if it were up to him you'd already be one of them. A lot of his flirting involves calling you things like sweet treat and honeyblood. However... despite all the taunting, all the talk of seeing you as food, Killer is the one in the castle who treats you with the most respect. The others seem to see you as an object, a cute toy, something to squish and own. Killer talks to you like you're a real person. You can't help but like him for it.
Nightmare's inferiority complex has driven him to declare himself the king of the vampires. No one contests - Nightmare is royalty by blood, and vampires place a lot of emphasis on blood. But even if he wasn't, Nightmare frequently murders those who won't bend the knee. Plenty of powerful vampires have fallen embarrassingly fast at his hand.
... Nightmare's goal is to make you agree to be his spouse. A pretty little human partner would be excellent for his image. It would not only demonstrate his incredible self control as such an ancient vampire (not to mention his control over his warriors), but it would also show that his power is so great he doesn't need to strike a political marriage with another powerful vampire. It might also convince some of the pesky rebellious human groups to settle down.
His pride means that he won't force you. Not yet, at least. He likes to think he can seduce you. He's a royal vampire, after all, and you're just a simple human - isn't it only a matter of time?
... But it seems like, as time goes on... he's the one falling.
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scudslut · 6 months
Note
Fiending for Daryl x F!reader at the point where they're super domestic and sexually comfortable with each other. Like making jokes like "I'll do that thing you like if you take Dog for a walk ;)" and just being super teasing and playful with each other
lazy mornings w/ daryl
daryl x f!reader
wc: 1k
warnings: teasing, slight allusions to sex, mdni
a/n: omfg i adored this idea. thinking about daryl finally super comfortable with you, able to relax and just be himself is just🥹 i hope this is close to what you wanted!! i kinda got carried away in my imagination with this one lol. alsooo, i have a few other requests i’m working on, i promise i’m not skipping anyone’s i just take forever to write:,)
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daryl would absolutely love to tease you. he just loved to see that little spark flash in your eyes, reminding him that you want him and he has you.
he was incredibly shy initiating anything sexual during the first couple years of your relationship. and still to this day it’s not often that he’ll outright vocalize his lust, but rather use his actions and subtle, playful remarks that’ll have you ready to pounce on him the first moment you get. the little sanctuary you call home is his favorite place in the world, and it was only ever you who got to see this goofy, mischievous side of him.
and he found he couldn’t help himself, watching you around the house, so casual and domesticated.
you’d play quiet music often on the little record player he’d found, hair tied up in some messy knot, loose shorts and a small t-shirt the only things adorning your soft skin as you read, or cooked, or whatever hobby was interesting you at the time. it brought out intense feelings inside of him, ones he never imagined he’d ever feel and it almost made him giddy. so happy he could provide that safety for you to simply be, and ravenously hungry to devour you whole any chance he got.
it must’ve been sometime in early may he figured. the sun was bright in the sky no later than 6am the past few weeks. mornings still brisk but afternoons hot and nearing swim-worthy. you both rose late that day, having spent a little extra time in bed where the light flooded through the cabin windows, glowing across fluffy sheets and warm skin, simply too soothing to move from right away. he always woke before you and always had to drink you in for a while, admiring how the sun danced through the strands of your wild hair across the pillows. your chest rose so fluently and calmly it made his own tight. he’d ingrain that picture deep in his memory; your vibrant, lively body something he’d protect till his last dying breath.
you had a leg propped outside the blankets, tossed close to his body subconsciously and he brought his fingers to the soft skin of your exposed thigh, painting invisible shapes. it only took a few minutes before you started mumbling sleepily as he dragged them upwards, towards your inner thigh.
“mmm, good morning,” you breathed softly, eyes still shut but a lazy smile gracing your features.
“mornin' sunshine,” he drawled, leaning down to press light kisses over his artwork. “sleep alright?”
“mhm, you?”
he nodded against your skin. he always slept well next to you, especially now he had you all to himself; your little hole in the woods providing much-needed peace and solitude after all the years without. just you, dog, and acres of tall green trees.
speaking of which, he noticed the door creaking open behind him as he placed more nips and kisses, paws padding across the wooden floors at the sound of your voices finally awake.
his tongue dragged up, grazing over the hem of your panties. your hips shifted beneath him as you moaned softly. “can we make it an agreement that you always wake me up like this?” you gasped when his hands joined in, massaging your plush hips with strong hands.
he snorted at that, “i already always do.”
“mm, right,” you muttered quickly distracted as your hands found purchase on his soft brown locks. your morning brain never failed to amuse him. you’d mutter nonsense half asleep, sure to barely remember when you fully came too.
his fingers were just slipping under the waistband when dog whimpered quietly behind you both. a smirk cast over his face, already hearing your whines of dismay at what he was about to do.
“think somebody needs a mornin' walk,” he pulled away with a kiss to the little bow at the hem. a low groan followed in suit just as he expected and he chuckled slightly.
“D… just a few more minutes.”
but he was already dragging his body off the mattress, grabbing a random strewn shirt and pulling it over his head.
“such a tease, dixon,” he heard from the bed, turning to see you propped up with a phony pout. the corners of his eyes crinkled in a grin at your state, hair wild from sleep, and cheeks flushed pink.
“how bout this,” he bargained, leaning back down to peck your ankle and slowly up your calf. “we take him out quickly, and then i’ll bring ya right back here and let ya have yer way with me… sound fair?”
he watched as you feigned contemplation.
“come on, look at that face,” he pointed to dog, who sat patiently at the foot of the bed, tail wagging.
“never thought i’d get cockblocked by a dog, but, alas,” you sighed, trying your best to cover the grin on your face.
daryl bent over, shielding dog's ears. “hey! he can hear ya y’know,” and there was so more hiding your grin, giggles escaping your lips in fit.
he’d never seen you move so fast after that, speedily throwing on a top that barely covered your ass and rushing to the front door.
“come on doggy boy! your dad and i have a date, we gotta make this quick,” you mused loudly through the house, dog chasing after you.
he couldn’t help but shake his head in laughter, following after his family blissfully. this was definitely his favorite place in the world.
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sorry i’m so cheesy byyee❤️
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obae-me · 8 months
Text
Dumb Injuries- Pt 2
This may or may not be based off of real events that may or may not have happened a few days ago... Only I was on my own with no sweet demons, just my panic, a bloody sock, and a bunch of tissues. I bet it's going to leave a scar...
Warning: Blood, glass, injury. Note: I am not a medical professional, so do not use this as advice on what to do in a situation like this.
--
A gleeful little hum came from your mouth as you walked about in the kitchen. Today was your day to make dinner. And while sometimes you loathed these days, expecting nothing but needy demons practically clinging to you as you cooked and begging for a taste as if they were all Gluttony, today was different. Today everyone was giving you the proper space to work on your own. The peace was much needed. You’d felt like you’d been running around non-stop going from room to room, reading message after message, fulfilling your duties with hardly a chance to rest.
You loved these people, but boy did they run you dry sometimes.
However, despite your exhaustion and perhaps slight irritation, dinner was still being made with much love. You figured, perhaps, if the meal was fulfilling, they’d all be calm the rest of the evening.
Even from here you could hear them bickering.
Something had been up with all of them all week. They were picking fights with each other constantly. Or, should you say, more than usual. If that was somehow even remotely possible. In fact, they very nearly destroyed the kitchen a handful of days ago. Someone had eaten Satan’s special cat-shaped cake he was saving for himself after a day of testing. So, naturally, he went ballistic. He assumed it was Beel, but Gluttony- for once- swore it wasn’t him. After being blamed too many times, he got frustrated. Lucifer of course had to get involved. And let’s just say he wasn’t in a very good mood that day. Luckily, no appliances were harmed, but you recall how long it had taken them all to clean it up. And now they were all still on edge as the culprit had still yet to come out with their crimes.
With an audible sigh, you shook your head. Demons will be demons as some of them so often liked to say. Moving away from the stove and towards the table in the middle of the room, you reached out for the cutting board of vegetables you’d prepped earlier.
Pain. You gasped loudly, hurting your throat in the process. You stumbled, completely dropping the items that had been in your hand. They struck the ground with several noisy clangs. As you grasped for balance with support from the table, you clenched your teeth. The nerves in your body sparked, starting from the bottom of one of your feet and all the way up your back. Even if you wanted to swear, you were so stunned, you couldn’t. You leaned harder against the furniture, curling your leg up and raising your foot to spot an inch long piece of glass sticking out of your heel. While the adrenaline was still pumping through your body, you reached forward and plucked it out. It didn’t seem to have much blood on it. Shaking hands wrapped the little shard in a small wad of paper towels before it was chucked in the garbage.
Apparently, whoever had been in charge of cleaning the mess after the fight from a few days ago missed a spot… Of course you had to be the one to find it… Limping, keeping your injured foot on the tip of your toes, you headed towards the door to the kitchen. Thank Diavolo that your room was nearby. Hopefully you could make it there and patch yourself up before—
The door swung inwards, just a few inches away from smacking you in the face. You staggered back a bit. Mammon nearly barreled into you, grasping at your shoulder’s and steadying you to keep you from falling over. “You alright?! I mean… what did ya do this time, huh?” He blushed a little at his worried blurt before glancing by you and seeing the mess of scattered vegetables on the floor.
A heavy sigh from a second voice rang out behind Mammon. Your heart nearly stopped for a moment. Lucifer glared at you with narrowed eyes. “You couldn’t have waited another few weeks before making another mess of the kitchen?”
Well, at least so far, neither of them had noticed… You lowered your hurt foot a little flatter, keeping your heel just barely hovering over the ground. “I-I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I’ll get it cleaned up, don’t worry about it.”
The eldest, while usually appreciating those who fixed their own messes, was not satisfied with that answer. Exhaustion filled his eyes as he brushed past you and further into the room. “You can work on cleaning up your mess while I finish dinner. If we are even a few minutes late serving the food, Beel might go on another rampage.”
You nodded, gulping down a painful lump in your throat as your heel began to sting and throb. “Okay. I just have to grab something from my room real quick.” Lucifer just hummed at you, already pulling out replacements for everything you’d dropped. You looked up at Mammon, who was staring at you suspiciously, remaining unusually quiet. Walking as steady as you could, you squeaked past him and out into the hallway. Your hand pressed against the wall for support, fingernails almost digging into the wallpaper as you worked hard to remain quiet and upright.
Thank goodness your room was right next door…
All the sudden, the hallway flipped. Your head felt light and your chest squeezed as the floor was no longer right under you. You slipped, completely thrown off balance. You held our your arms, ready to catch the floor, but instead caught someone’s shoulders.
“I got ya…” Mammon sighed as he seemed to reach you just in time.
You leaned into him for a moment, trying to calm your wild heart. Then you straightened yourself, pulling away and looking down to see what you had slipped on.
A bloody streak covered the hard ground. Wide eyes looked down in shock, both Mammon’s and yours. You turned to look over your shoulder. Drops of blood made a pretty dotted trail all the way down the hall, stretching from your feet to—
“Lucifer…” You spoke as your gaze met his own. He no longer seemed exhausted, but now stunned, standing just outside the kitchen door.
“What the hell happened?!” Mammon shouted, his voice projecting far down the hall.
Oh great...
Like curious little mice, the Dining Hall opened as several demon heads poked out of the doorway, eager to see who was getting in trouble. You noticed Beel sniff the air and turn pale, muttering a single word to the rest of them that had all of them scurrying down the hall.
Either panicked or jealous, you were suddenly swept up into Mammon’s arms and absconded away. The House was a series of blurred colors before a door slammed open, nearly breaking in half. Mammon used one arm to sweep several items on the bathroom counter onto the floor before setting you on the empty space by the sink. You curled your leg and raised your foot again. Blood coated nearly your entire foot, steadily gushing and dripping onto the floor.
A hand ran through his own white hair as he nearly looked ready to pass out on your behalf. “L-Let’s wash it off…” Mammon whispered, his voice shaking as he turned on the sink and held his hand underneath the stream till it felt warm.
The other brothers were starting to flood into the room now, varying levels of shock, awe, and worry coating their faces. However, they were starting to learn about proper care, and how to not have a complete meltdown anytime you got hurt. But there was still a bit of a scene, the demons pushing each other aside and crawling over the others to get closer to you, reeling at the sight and smell of your blood.
Mammon cleaned your foot off, but frowned as it crimson continued to spread across your skin. Levi rushed over and placed a little Ruri-Chan bandaid across the injured spot. It bled through the bandage and started dripping again within a few seconds…
Now they were all starting to panic.
“We need to stop the bleeding!” Asmo shouted!
“Oh, do we?!” Belphie huffed sarcastically.
Satan pushed his way forward. “We need to add some pressure to stem it.”
Lucifer pulled out a first aid kit from… somewhere. You were starting to swear they had one in every room now… The eldest handed out specific items from the kit. Mammon continued to clean off the dripping blood. Asmo pressed a small folded cloth over your heel. Belphie started wrapping a cloth bandage around the injured spot. Beel gently pressed his hand down over the bottom of your foot to add some pressure.
“A-Are you okay? Does it…hurt?” Levi stammered from behind his other brothers.
You responded a little sheepishly. “It stings a bit, but… I didn’t think it was that bad.”
“Probably the adrenaline,” Satan sighed, bending down to pick up the items off the floor that Mammon had thrown down in a frenzy.
“What in the world happened, hon?” Asmo wondered, coming over to pet your head in a bit of comfort.
Biting your lip a bit, you took a breath. “Stepped on glass…”
A very gentle flick struck the back of your head. “Do you remember that little conversation we had where I told you to be wary of the kitchen floors?” Lucifer shook his head at you, his furrowed brows laced with worry, and perhaps a bit of guilt if you were reading his expression properly.
“I… thought it was fine.”
Pride opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Mammon instead. “You gotta be more careful!”
Beel rubbed his thumb over your foot before removing his hand. “I don’t think it’s bleeding through anymore.” Taking a peek, he appeared right. You didn’t see anymore blood seeping through the bandages.
His twin looked over at you. “So, you’re okay now, right?”
“I think so.” A little squeak came out of your mouth as you were suddenly picked up again. Satan hardly said a word as he took you out of the bathroom.
“Hey! No fair!”
“Satan!”
Wrath ignored them all as he walked on. “Don’t worry about dinner tonight. We’ll take care of it. You stay off your feet.”
It didn’t quite sound like a suggestion…more like a command.
Well…it sounded quite like you wouldn’t be walking anywhere on your own this week…
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simonrileysfavteacup · 6 months
Note
Ok so, maybe this is gonna be a bit further into the future when Tommy’s a bit grown up (teenage maybe).
So your doing laundry and see that your son hasn’t been doing his chores and you go up to his room and see him playing his video games as usual, and you softly chastise him about his chores.
And he surprises you with his outburst, and he actually swears at you. And you flinch at the sound, astounded that your own son, your baby boy talked you into that manner.
Simon. Is. Pissed. He loves Tommy, but he will never tolerate him disrespecting you. Simon knows how much work you put into being a mother. Simon goes full on stern dad mode.
Imma let you decide what happens next 🤭🤭
THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA WTFFFFF
Run through here for anyone confused about all the characters
***
Sundays were your favourite days. You loved the relaxation, the peace, the days off. Simon had been home for a few days. Your kids, Tommy, Emma, Lilah, and Alex, were ecstatic. Atleast, the twins were. The second Simon walked through the door, they wanted to play games and go outside and all that. Emma was just happy her dad was home and safe. She had been her father’s daughter from the moment she came out of the womb. 
Tommy, however, your eldest, was a bit closed off. He practically sat in his room all day and never came out, It was starting to get on your nerves. 
You were doing Simon’s laundry when you notice Tommy’s dirty clothes that you had asked him to wash still sitting by the laundry machine. You roll your eyes, heading into his room. “Bubby?”
“What?” he doesn’t turn to look at you, still focused on his PC. 
“You didn’t do your laundry.”
“So what?”
“You need those clothes for school.”
“So you wash them. I’m busy.” 
“Bubby, you’re old enough to wash them yourself.”
“Don’t call me that and isn’t it your job? It’s not like you work or anything. Dad does all of that. All you do is cook and clean and-”
“Thomas Riley!” His words hit deep in your chest. 
“What? God, why do you always have to be such a bitch?” 
That was it. He hit a nerve. You turn, walking out of his room, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You head into your room, holding a pillow to your chest. His words hung in the air. 
Simon walks in moments later, covered in mud after a football game with the twins. “HI lovie,” he smiles before noticing the tears on your cheeks. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you turn away from him. 
“You can’t lie to me, lovie.”
“Tommy yelled at me and he called me a bitch…said my only job was to cook and clean…”
“He what?” Simon is fuming. 
“Please, don’t say anything to him…”
“He’s getting grounded. You stay here,” Simon walks out, running into Lilah. “Oi. Go to mom. She’s sad.”
The little girl nods and pads off to see you.
Simon walks to his eldest son’s room. Tommy turns in his gaming chair. “What?”
“Off the game or I unplug it,” Tommy rolls his eyes but turns off his game. “What did you say to your mom?” 
“Nothing.” 
“You lie just like her,” Simon holds back a chuckle. “She’s crying and it’s because of you. You know how much she does for you? And you swore at her. Go apologise. You’re grounded. No games for a month.”
Tommy looks down at his feet, guilty. He walks off to your room, where Lilah curls into you. You look up as Tommy sits on the edge of your bed. “Ma?”
You look at him.
“Ma, I’m sorry. I kinda let my emotions get the better of me. Didn’t mean to yell at you…just…I found out Lizzie was cheating and I’ve had a real bad week and I took it out on you. Please forgive me?”
A moment passes. 
You open your arms, letting him curl into you. “She cheated?”
“With Neil,” he sighs. “I’m never dating again.”
“That’s what we all say, bubby.”
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We Belong Dead| Alastor x Dead Wife!Reader
A/n: Hey everyone I know it’s been a LONG time since I’ve written something and I’m sorry it’s not DC related but I finished Hazbin with my fiancée MONTHS AGO and I’ve been wanting to write Alastor soooo bad! With all of that being said, let it be known that I do NOT condone or agree with any of the questionable actions and opinions of Vivienne Medrano, but I DO enjoy this show and a lot of the characters.
Warning(s): Floofy but suggestive, Alastor “using” reader and reader just kind of going along with it, mentions of murder, sad at first, human Alastor and reader mentioned, temporary unrequited love, Demi romantic Alastor, Alastor because he’s…Alastor, mentions of marriage, canon divergence, suicide, death, loooooong introduction and plot h🫠
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“Mama, we’re gonna get married!”
Alastor had decided that you were both ready for marriage in the middle of the school yard and decided to announce this as his mother came to pick him up.
His mother feigned shock as she started to playfully chide him.
“You can’t just marry some girl you met on the first day of school!”
Alastor kept his arms around you as you both giggled and showed his mother the ribbon he had tied around your finger.
“Oh my!” She exclaimed.
“Obviously you two are very serious about this! How about we have your fiancée over for dinner after school one day so I can get to know her better, hm?”
Despite Alastor never having that wedding ceremony with you on the playground, you both remained close all the way up until you graduated high school. After that, you went your separate ways.
Several years later, when Alastor bumped into you as you were leaving the corner store one day, you ended up talking to him for hours. After which, you had started getting together more often. Eating out, going to shows, drinking and having fun together.
Somewhere along the way, however, having fun together turned into going on dates together. Going on dates turned into staying up late talking for hours about anything and everything, and lovely gifts.
One such gift being your engagement ring.
Looking back on it now, you don’t know how or why you thought it was normal for a man to propose after 6 months.
On the outside, Alastor was the husband that every woman dreamed of. He helped you clean and cook, he never raised his voice, and he always bragged about you. On the inside however, something felt stiff. Tense. Off.
Alastor rarely ever initiated kisses, he barely touched you, and he disappeared in the middle of the night rather frequently.
After he was killed, it all made sense. You weren’t his wife so much as you were his alibi. Who would have thought the vicious killer that buried his victims on a hunting ground had a wife waiting at home? A wife who, despite what everyone believed, was oblivious to his crimes. It didn’t matter, though. In a matter of days, you lost your job, your friends, and your peace of mind. In the weeks that came to pass, you slowly lost your mind and your will to live as well.
You died in your sleep after taking a cocktail of pills with a glass of brandy. The police found you in bed wearing your most expensive nightgown, your hair neatly styled, and makeup done perfectly.
Just like before, time had gone on, and your time in hell had been quite interesting. Maybe even a bit enjoyable if you were being honest. The old saying rang true: Hell truly had no fury like a woman scorned. Your arrival in Hell was a testament to that.
Armed with your broken heart and raw, stinging rage, you made a home for yourself and began your own business. Anyone who got in your way was sliced open with the very weapons you sold. You were very aware of Alastor’s presence, but made no effort to contact him. He had no idea you were here, either.
That changed a few days ago.
Who should you see while on an outing in Cannibal Town but your darling husband. He looked different, but you recognized him almost immediately. He offered to walk with you and followed you even after you declined. Every day after that, he miraculously ran into you everywhere you went. He was relentless in trying to get your attention. He would try to talk to you and when you ignored him, he would carry on speaking like it was nothing. Today you finally cracked when he invited you to come to a hotel. The Hazbin Hotel, specifically.
“Why?”
“Well, I thought I might show you this little…business venture…I’ve been working on recently! After all, it’s been awhile since I’ve seen my lovely wi-“
“Don’t call me that.” You spat.
His smile never faltered, but his eyes held a look of momentary discomfort.
“Ah, and here we are!” Alastor pointed his staff towards the building in front of you. It looked like some place from when you were alive, except old and decrepit.
Ever the gentleman, Alastor held the door for you as you walked in before he followed suit. Not 5 minutes passed before a woman with long silver hair angrily stomped in your direction.
“Alastor! Where have y-,” she paused when she noticed you by his side, “who…who the fuck is this?” A blonde was following close behind her.
“I’m glad you asked!” Alastor’s smile broadened. He proceeded to introduce you as his beloved wife to everyone in the room, and then introduced them to you, completely ignoring the looks of shock and awe on their faces. Before anyone else in the room could speak, Alastor hastily took your hand.
“Now, if you excuse us, we have some things to discuss.” With that, you and Alastor promptly dissolved into a shadowy mist.
The lobby was silent then as everyone stared at where Alastor and you once stood.
“Ssso…that was weird for everyone elsse too…right?”
Meanwhile, upstairs, Alastor turned after carefully locking the door to his room.
“Now, I suppose I owe you an explana—“, he was cut off by a resounding smack when your hand connected with his cheek. Alastor’s head turned with a sharp snap. He stood completely still there for a moment, eyes wide and smile looking painfully forced. If it had been anyone else, they would’ve been dead by now, but you? Well…he always liked how feisty you were. Alastor cleared his throat before speaking again.
“Alright…”, he said while turning to face you. “I probably deserved that…”
“You deserve a lot worse than that actually, but go on.”
“I know, and I can’t…” Alastor suddenly felt unsure of what to say. Granted, The Radio Demon was not one for heartfelt apologies (or any apologies for that matter) but if anyone deserved one from him, it was you. Yet, there he stood: the feared Radio Demon, lost for words at your mere presence.
There was a long and uncomfortable silence.
“Do you have any idea what you did to me?” You finally said. “What I suffered because of you?!”
Alastor offered no response.
“What FUCKING-“ you paused as tears began to well in your eyes. Your face red and splotchy and your lips quivering as you started to sob.
“You lied to me-“
“I did.”
“You used me!”
“I did.”
“You told me you loved me!”
“I do.”
And that gave you pause. Had he loved you? Really loved you? No. It had to be a lie. He couldn’t possibly-
“I know I can’t make up for everything I did and everything that happened…” Alastor said while walking towards you. When he stopped, just a few inches from you, you had to look up at him. Alastor was taller than you in life, but now he towered over you. He gently took your hand in his. “But I’ll spend the rest of eternity trying…for you.”
You watched as he gently kissed your fingers. With tears in your eyes and an uneven breath, you laid your head on his chest.
You missed him. You tried not to miss him, but you did and there was no use in denying it anymore.
“One chance,” you finally said. “That’s all you get.”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
You looked up at Alastor and locked eyes with him briefly. The feared Radio Demon wanted nothing more right now than a chance to have you back. His eyes flitted between your lips and your eyes before he dipped you low. To anyone else, it would be an over-the-top gesture, but to you? Oh, how his theatrics made you blush and swoon.
“So…what do you say, darling?” He leaned in closer, almost touching his forehead to yours.
“Do we have a deal?~”
You raised a brow at his words.
He chuckled then.
“Ah, I apologize for my poor choice of words. What I meant was: May I have the honor of courting you, my dear?”
Your eyes softened and you smiled up at him.
“Yes, darling.”
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