#i love this job more then those feelings of going backwards

[peaches-and-honey-and-the-moon]

Im working at an old food place I worked at three years ago, got let go from the stupid corporate job, and it feels like I can finally breath again. Like it feels like my coworkers actually respect me as a human being. And the venders I would see when I worked at the merch job have all told me they're glad I don't work at that company anymore when they see me at my food job lol. Our bread lady literally was like "thank fucking God you got out of there" which I found hilarious.

[arieslost]

quiet | op81

oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary: oscar is quiet in the ways he loves you.

word count: 1,620

warnings: disgusting levels of fluff

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

– the sidewalk rule

You don’t even have to explain this to Oscar. In fact, he’s done it every single time the two of you walk together. You really don’t even notice until you see something on TikTok about it and think it would be fun to pay attention and see if he did it or not without you saying anything.

“Wanna go for a walk?” You ask him casually, and he nods, reaching for his sneakers.

Exercise tends to be the bane of your existence, a la Yuki Tsunoda, but you love to walk, and Oscar loves to walk with you. So whenever you ask him to go for a walk, no matter what he’s doing or how he’s feeling, he’ll always drop everything to go with you.

He holds the door open for you to go out first. “What kind of walk are you thinking, babe?”

“Mm, probably a longer one. It’s pretty nice out today.” You say, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. It feels so nice after being cooped up inside working for most of the day.

Lacing your fingers with his, you purposely place yourself on the outside of the sidewalk, but you don’t make it more than fifteen feet before Oscar stops both of you so abruptly that you nearly fall backwards.

“What? What’s wrong?” You ask your boyfriend, who is frowning.

“This is not right,” he mumbles, gently grabbing you by your shoulders and maneuvering you to the inside of the sidewalk. “You walk there. I walk here.”

“Why?” You feign innocence.

“I protect you,” he says, like it’s obvious. “I��m always on the outside to protect you.”

He says it with such conviction that you don’t bother telling him that you did it on purpose because you saw a TikTok. Instead, you press a kiss to his cheek, take his hand again, and go on your way on the proper side of the sidewalk.

– fixing your clothes

Sometimes, you think that Oscar is more attentive to you than you are to yourself. It’s like he’s gained a sixth sense dedicated entirely to you. This applies to microexpressions, body language, even when your clothes are even the tiniest bit askew.

You’re five minutes late to a work meeting, you can’t find your shoes, and you haven’t even left yet. Oscar watches you rush around the apartment, holding your bag and your keys in his hand so you don’t have to go looking for those either.

“I’m so fired after this,” you huff, forcing your feet into your shoes that you finally located and wincing when your fingers get stuck between your heel and the shoe.

“You won’t get fired,” he says gently. “This is the first time you’ve ever been late, and you’re a fantastic employee. I’m sure they’ll be understanding.”

“They’d better be, I need this job.” You mutter, shoving your arms into your jacket and buttoning it at the speed of light.

“You don’t need a job, I can take care of you.”

“Nice try, Osc. We’ve talked about this, I’m not going to be your sugar baby.”

“Trophy wife?”

You glare at him playfully. “I’ll see you later. Or in an hour, if I get fired.”

“You won’t get fired,” he repeats as you take your bag and keys from him. “Oh, wait a second!”

You pause as he reaches for you, undoing the uneven buttons courtesy of your hastiness and deftly buttoning them back up the right way. “There y’go, have a good day, honey.” He gives you a kiss and opens the door for you.

A few days later, Oscar comes home to see that his favorite hoodie is missing. He walks into the living room, where you’re curled up on the couch taking a nap, wearing the hoodie in question. He sits at your side, brushing your hair away from your face, and that’s when he notices that one of the drawstrings is tucked back behind your neck into the hoodie. It doesn’t look like it’s causing you any discomfort, since you’re asleep, but regardless he immediately starts to tug on it. You stir, and he freezes.

“No, don’t wake up,” he whispers. “Just fixing this for you.”

“M’kay, thanks Osc,” you reply, wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Cuddle me.”

“Baby, I just got home from work, I’m sweaty-”

“Don’t care,” you grumble, reaching for him when he stands up and causing the hoodie to ride up over your stomach. “Miss you. Cuddle me.”

“Let me shower quick, and then I’m all yours, okay?” He pulls the hem of the hoodie down as he leans over and kisses your forehead.

You twiddle the drawstring that he fixed between your fingers as you wait for him, thinking about how sweet he is to pay such close attention to you all the time.

– watching your favorite movies with you

Nobody is perfect, and in your eyes, Oscar’s only imperfection is that he’s never seen Star Wars. As a life-long, diehard fan, you decided to wait until you’d been with him for a few months to introduce him to that side of you and invite him over for a Star Wars marathon.

“I hope these live up to the hype,” Oscar teases, surveying the way you’ve decorated the entire living area with Star Wars paraphernalia, prepared Star Wars inspired snacks, and just laid a Star Wars blanket across the both of you.

“Are you joking? It will be everything I say it is and more, now be quiet.” You shush him as the main theme begins.

You peek over at him over and over throughout every movie, almost watching him more than the films to see how he reacts to every little moment. You start to watch him more intensely during Revenge of The Sith, but ultimately your focus goes back to the movie when Padme arrives on Mustafar to confront Anakin, Obi-Wan secretly in tow.

Oscar’s enjoying the movies, of course, but even without seeing them he knows how well you know this upcoming scene. He’s heard you recite it so many times under your breath at various times that he feels like he might be able to surprise you with his minimal well of knowledge within the next few minutes. He grins to himself as the penultimate moment of the scene grows closer and closer and you sit up straight, accidentally knocking his arm off of your shoulders without noticing as you move to the edge of the couch.

“I have brought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new empire!” Anakin says on screen, and you say the words at the same time.

“Your new empire?” Obi-Wan replies. Oscar mouths the words along with him, gathering up his nerve.

“Don’t make me kill you,” you and Anakin warn.

“Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy!” Oscar exclaims, getting a little ahead of Obi-Wan in his enthusiasm.

“If you’re not with me,” you and Anakin say as you slowly turn to face your boyfriend, “then you’re my enemy.”

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes.” Oscar and Obi-Wan reply evenly, Oscar unable to hide the smile on his face at your barely contained excitement. “I will do what I must.”

“You will try.” Only Anakin says this final line, because you launch yourself at Oscar and bear hug him.

“You knew the lines! You did so well!” You cheer, kissing his head, his temple, his cheeks.

“You say them all in your sleep, that’s how I knew,” Oscar says, flushed from your sudden onslaught of affection.

“I do not!” He gives you a look. “Okay, I wouldn’t be surprised if I did, but still! You knew! I can’t believe- oh, wait, shh!” You shush him again, even though you’re the one talking. “Pay attention, this part is so good.”

Oscar’s smile doesn’t fade for the rest of the night as he pulls you back into his side, knowing that while this is the first, it definitely isn’t the last time he’s watching these movies with you.

– nose kisses

Oscar is the first and only person to kiss you on the nose, and you’re glad. It’s become such an Oscar thing that if anyone else did it you’d feel wrong.

The first time he did it had been a complete accident– all the lights were off already, you were both exhausted, and he was just trying to give you a goodnight kiss, but completely overshot your lips and ended up getting your nose instead.

“I’m too tired to apologize, I’ll do it in the morning,” he grumbled, and you had simply snuggled closer to him.

“S’alright, I liked it.”

After that it became the place he kissed you the most. He gives you a nose kiss first thing in the morning and last thing at night. At this point, he kisses your nose more than anywhere else, including your lips. You ask him for a kiss, and he kisses your nose.

“A real kiss,” you whine, and he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“That was a real kiss.”

“On the lips, like a normal person, please.”

Oscar crosses his arms over his chest. “Now hold on, I thought you said you liked it.”

“I do!” You protest. “It’s very sweet, but sometimes I want to actually kiss my boyfriend.”

He gives in easily, but the nose kisses are never ending. Posing for a picture? He wants to kiss your nose. Saying goodbye? You’re getting a nose kiss. He’s about to get in the car to race? He’s kissing your nose before he puts his helmet on.

While you love getting “real” kisses, Oscar’s nose kisses are more precious to you than any other kind of kiss.

note: here is the prompt list i used for this; this was a different format than how i usually write so i hope it was good! this is also the first full fic i’m posting that isn’t in the 3k word range which is shocking jdjfkfkf

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika !

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[hoshifighting]

latino!mingyu

WARNINGS: smut, latino life, im jus kidding (ou não também), mentions of alcohol, flipping the cap before kissing you, fingering, oral, dirty talk, hair pulling, public-teasing, public-make out.

if nobody said it, i will. MINGYU LATINO!!! mingyu who, no matter where he is, somehow finds a reason to grab a beer, and yeah, it's gotta be ice cold. “wanna pilsen, babe?” he’s already tossing one your way before you can answer. like, let’s be real here, this man drinks anything that remotely resembles beer. pilsen, brahma, skol, corona? he’s down. anything to cool off that tanned, toned-ass body of his after playing fútbol/futebol/soccer, anyways, for way too long just ‘cause he knows you’re watching. and when that shirt comes off? goddamn, everybody in the surroundings is drooling. mingyu knows it too, that cocky grin spreading across his face, and you're just trying to act normal. but it’s impossible when the man is literally glowing under the scorching sun.

he danced at his cousin’s quinceanera/festa de 15. of course, he did. he’s that hot cousin, the one all the aunties fawn over, talking about how he’s grown up so well, while the guys on the block are salty ‘cause their girls won’t stop staring when he's shirtless walking in havaianas flip-flops. he’s out there, not giving a damn, smiling, swaying his hips to reggaeton with you, and trust—he’s glued to your ass like you owe him something. or clapping his hands and asking you to dance samba with him. you roll your eyes, but you’re lowkey hyped up by his attention. that man is always hyping you up, calling you “amor/cariño/gatinha/mama/bebe” like it’s a full-time job.

every party, every gathering, someone’s got him dancing with their cousin, their sister, their aunt even (and he’s good at it).

mingyu who comes to your ear, whispering dirty things, just to see you getting all wet. “you look so fuckin’ good tonight, mama. can’t wait to get you back home and ruin that dress.”

he says it like it’s a casual thing, with that smirk of his. the kinda smirk that says he knows you’re weak for him, the way you flush when he so much as drags his fingers up your arm. and he’s not wrong. you could play it off cool, but he’s already in your head, already got you thinking about what’s gonna happen later.

mingyu who's skin is so damn hot, like he’s a human furnace, and you swear it’s impossible to cuddle with him for too long without needing a breather. the dude radiates heat like no one else, and even though you love the way he wraps around you—those big arms pulling you tight, holding you like he’s never gonna let go—there’s always that moment where you’re like, “okay, I need to cool the fuck down before I melt into a puddle.” and he always laughs about it, gives you that lazy smile while you’re fanning yourself, like, “what? too hot to handle?”

but the thing is, it’s not just about the heat. there’s something else in the way mingyu touches u, like he’s always trying to get as close as possible. sometimes, he has no shame in it—like when he gets that look in his eyes, and next thing you know, he’s got you pinned against a random house on the street, his mouth crashing into yours. tongue and tongue and tongue, his lips moving against yours like he’s starving for you. his hands? they’re everywhere—flying down to grab your ass, squeezing like he owns it, pulling you closer, so you can feel just how bad he wants you.

and oh my god, when he turns his cap backward before kissing you? dead. you know it's coming—the way he runs a hand through his hair, then flips that hat around. it’s such a small move, but fuck, it drives you insane every time. like he’s gearing up for something more, and you know that look means he’s about to ruin you in the best way possible. no warning, he just dives in, lips pressing hard, tongue slipping inside your mouth, claiming you. he kisses like it’s his job—wet, messy, and so fucking good you lose yourself in it every time.

then there’s mingyu in bed. and the man’s got skills 😭, and he knows it. when he’s behind you, hands in your hair, pulling just enough to make your back arch, it’s game over. you’re a mess, and he’s thriving off it, low growls escaping him as he fucks you from behind, his hips slamming into yours with that steady, unforgiving rhythm. he’s so into it—one hand gripping your hair, the other on your waist, guiding you, pulling you back onto him. and he doesn’t just pull your hair like it’s a casual thing—oh no. he pulls it slow, but then suddenly he yanks harder as if he's silently telling you “this is mine. you’re mine.”

and don’t even get started on his fingers. mingyu’s got the best fingers, and he knows exactly how to use them. whether it’s slow and teasing, dragging it out until u’re practically begging, or fast and rough, working you up until you can barely think straight—he’s a pro at this shit. sometimes, he’ll have u spread out, fingers deep inside you, curling them, head bobbing as he sucks your clit. and he watches you fall apart under his touch? it’s like he’s studying every reaction, committing it to memory so he can wreck you even harder next time.

but the dirtiest thing about mingyu? it’s the way he talks when you’re in public and trying to keep it together. you know the type—when you’re at dinner or out with friends, and you’re trying to be normal, trying to focus on the conversation, but mingyu’s sitting next to u, whispering the filthiest shit in your ear. his voice is low, just for you, and no one else at the table has a clue what’s going on.

“bet you’re so fuckin’ wet for me right now, aren’t you, baby? can feel how bad you want it.”

and he says it all casual, like he’s not making you clench your thighs together under the table, trying to keep from giving yourself away. but he knows, and he’s not letting up. his hand brushes your leg under the table, fingertips barely grazing your thigh, and your heart’s pounding because you know what he’s doing.

“if i slid my hand up your skirt right now, you’d be soaked. don’t lie, mama. i can see it in your eyes.”

and it’s so fucking hard not to react, not to moan right then and there. but you can’t. you won’t. because you're in public, surrounded by people, and the last thing you need is to let everyone in on the fact that mingyu’s got you trembling in your seat. but he loves it, loves seeing you try to hold it together, that smug grin playing on his lips as he watches you squirm. “gonna take you home later,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “will make you cream on my cock, make you scream my name. don’t think you’ll be so quiet then.”

it’s all you can do to keep breathing, to keep pretending like you’re fine when, really, all you want is for mingyu to make good on every dirty promise he’s whispered in your ear. and you know he will.

[starboye]

starring: rafe cameron x male reader

request: reader finds it hot when rafe wears his cap but is too shy to tell frat boy rafe that but he catches on to it ad wears it while breeding reader. at the end rafe jokes and says he knows his cap makes reader precum

warnings: smut, cursing, drugs, reader taking drugs, breeding kink, rough sex, mentions of drinking

rafe cameron, god damn it, just saying his name gets you going and it doesn't help that he has that backwards cap on making it even harder to stay sane, you watched him from across the room selling to some random people who were desperate for the edge off, you couldn't take your eyes off him though, the way his jaw clenched when someone tried to skimp him on money or the way his hands moved when he counted money.

and it's not like rafe didn't notice the crush you had on him, he always saw the way you looked at him and he loved teasing you about it so that's why he did those little small things like clench his jaw or flex his hands, now he finally wanted to give you what you silently beg for every time you're at one of his parties "hey you" rafe called out to you, snapping your head up from your phone to look at him "me" you question heart beating faster.

"yeah you c'mere" he says waving you over and you timidly make your way to him, standing over him, his legs spread open as he relaxes into the couch "don't be shy sit down" he pats the space next to him and you couldn't possibly deny the man so you sat down next to him still sorta tense "could you be anymore tense" he chuckles taking a swig of his beer before putting it on the coffee table in front of him.

"here i got something that will make you feel good" rafe says leaning forward to grab some of the white substance he was selling earlier, lining some of it on his fingers and bringing it to your lips "oh no i couldn't do that" you nervously say "c'mon it'll make you feel great" he whispers in your ear, shivers running down your spine quickly before you nod at his question "fine" you exhale.

rafe brings his finger closer and slips it into your mouth rubbing the substance across your gums, immediately calming you with a wave of euphoria falling over your body "good boy" rafe smirks bringing you back to your senses, did you just hear what your think you heard, rafe calling you a good boy?! this making your heart beats against the inside of your chest quicker and harder.

"y'know you do a really shitty job at hiding your crush for me" rafe laughs bringing his face closer with yours, his lips almost grazing against yours "wait what if someone sees" you say placing a hand on his chest to stop his movements "everyone here is either drunk or high, they wont give a fuck" he says before bringing you into a kiss, it's like the room was spinning now and you couldn't control yourself.

"please fuck me" you breathlessly say in between the kiss and you don't know why you said it but rafe was ecstatic you did "say less" and next thing you know you're in rafes bed getting fucked like there's no tomorrow, "moaning like a bitch in heat" in the words of rafe and with the help of the drugs in your system you could feel every little thrust even harder now.

it felt like you were seeing stars as rafe grunts in your ear with each thrust, and to add to it rafe didn't take off his cap, leaving it on when he saw how it made you want him more and more, his chain also dangling in your face "damn who woulda thought id e fucking someone like you tonight" he laughed watching you turn away from his gaze "aw c'mon don't do that now" he pouts turning your head to face him again.

he had that stupid smirk on his face, and you looked like at this point you could be on another planet with how far your eyes were rolling back, the wet sound of skin slapping filled the room with your moans and rafes groans, your mind was fuzzy and cloudy from the continuous fucking that you started incoherently babbling some nonsense to rafe.

"p-please" you whined out "tell me what you want" he grunts, hips viciously snapping into your with no end in sight "please breed me, i want your cum so bad" you choke out with little whimpers in between, rafe looks down at you, tilting his head to the side wondering if he really heard your words right, you wanted him to breed you? i mean you don't have to convince him anymore your wish will be his command.

"of course i will" he smirks holding your hips to fuck into you harder, you moan out loudly but luckily it's covered up by the sounds of the blaring music, rafe didn't even know why but for some reason he just leaned down and began making out with you, sloppy wet kisses across your lips and neck, as much as you were infatuated with him, he was slowly starting to grow a liking to you and he didn't know why.

maybe it was the way you moaned his name or the way you sucked him back in every time he tried to pull out or maybe it was both, either way if he was gonna fill you up he was gonna do it his way, hard and fast, vulgar words spilling from his mouth as he thrusts became sloppy and soon cumming in you, pumping drop after drop if cum into your already messy hole.

rafe hid his face in the crook of your neck, to tired to even move and you didn't mind "i can't believe you came from the sight of me wearing a hat" rafe jokes breaking the silence and drawing a laugh from you, this definitely wasn't the end to the night.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (16/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: You know what's coming - they don't call me queen of slow burn for nothing.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, swear words

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: thank you all for your kind words on my engagement! and I'm sorry for this part! love ya. feedback is appreciated!

Charles is so close to you that you can breathe him in. His warm breath gently brushes your face, you feel the pressure of his big hands on your back and the thought that friends shouldn't look at each other like that makes your heart beat faster. 

Because Charles is looking at you just like that. As if you weren't friends, as if the connection between you was more intimate than a friendship could ever be. As if he's willing to cross the invisible line that separates his lips from yours. 

Your hands, resting against his hard chest, feel the strong heartbeat beneath and your fingers lightly claw into the fabric of the thick sweater as a sign for him to please be bold. 

Take this step with me, it's supposed to say. Take this step and come to me. 

And Charles even seems to understand. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your mouth, and you're so close you can almost feel his tongue against your mouth as he licks his lips. 

And then his hands disappear from your back as he takes a big step backward. Your touch slips from his chest, his scent disappears from your nose, and a distance is created between you that you can not only physically see, but also emotionally feel. 

When you look up into his face - a little confused - his features are harder than they were just seconds ago. 

"Let's go," he says coldly, tucking his hands, which a moment ago had you pressed against him, into the pockets of his sweater. "I need some sleep before I leave tomorrow, and like you said, we also need to grab a bite to eat and head back home." He turns away from you, takes the few steps to the door, and leaves the store without looking at you again. 

Puzzled and admittedly repulsed, you look after the man. 

He had been so close to you just a moment ago - and all of a sudden there is an uncrossable ocean between you. What has happened that he is now withdrawing like this? Did you do something wrong? Forced yourself on him? Crossed a line? 

No, after all, he sought your closeness first, pulled you closer to him, and whispered all those affectionate words to you that fogged your head and made little butterflies flutter around in your stomach. 

But maybe that's exactly the mistake. Maybe you've completely misread the situation. Maybe he behaves similarly with his other friends. While you can't imagine how he would pull Pierre into such an embrace, every friendship is different, after all. 

And lastly, you don't know how Charles behaves with his female friends either. The thought of him hugging other girls like that, too, and whispering such flirtations in their ears, makes your stomach tighten involuntarily. A nasty feeling that you didn't even feel when Raphael was flirting with other girls in front of you back then. 

You suppress the nausea rising in you and follow Charles, who is waiting for you in front of the store, typing on his cell phone. You lock the door behind you and toss the key into the mailbox, which hangs hidden by ivy vines on the wall of the house next to it. Without looking at your roommate, you start moving. "Well, let's go."

The icy Nice night wind blows in your face and ruffles your hair as you walk back to the car, but Charles doesn't seem to mind in the least. "What do you want to eat?" he asks nonchalantly, still staring at his phone. He seems so far away, as if the moment just now didn't even happen.

You shrug, unsure how to handle the situation. "I don't care. You go ahead and pick something."

"We don't have a lot of options at this point," he counters as your car enters your field of vision. "It's really late and a lot of restaurants have already closed." He continues typing away on his phone as he unlocks the Renault. "According to Google, I think there's a bistro nearby where the sandwiches are supposed to be good. Would you be okay with that?"

"Like I said, I don't care," you reply to him, getting into the car.

"What kind of sandwich do you want?" he asks after plopping down in the driver's seat. "I guess they have one with lettuce, chicken, and avocado." He raises an eyebrow. "I think I'll order that." He tucks his phone away and starts the car before letting it roll out of the parking lot. 

"I'll settle for a plain ham and cheese sandwich," you say, looking out the window. 

The fact that Charles is pretending you didn't almost kiss just now unsettles you so much that you can barely look at him. And the fact that you wanted to kiss him - actually wanted to kiss him - almost makes you disappear into your seat in shame. 

Because, as it seems, he doesn't want to. He draws the line between friendship and something more much more clearly than you do. And he doesn't seem to shift it to suit him. To him, you're his friend, his roommate, a means to an end until he can move into his other apartment. 

You are his friend. Friend. Friend. Friend. 

"Here we are," Charles breaks through your train of thought. He's already parked the car and points to the bistro on the street corner in front of you. A young man is tidying up the few chairs that are in front of the building and wiping down the tables with a rag. "I'll just get us something to eat. Do you need anything else?"

You look over at him with raised eyebrows. "I don't think we can get anything to eat there anymore."

"Why not?"

Confused, you look at him and point to the young man. "Because he's closing up store?"

Charles shrugs. "Just let me try it. It'll work," he smiles, and when you don't reply, he gets out. He jogs the few feet to the bistro and greets the man with a handshake, then points to the place. A little confused, but very pleased, the employee escorts your roommate into the building. 

How could you be so stupid? How could you think Charles would want something more from you than friendship? After all, it's Charles - funny, caring, and so handsome that it partially takes your breath away and he sneaks into your dreams. Why would someone like Charles - someone who could really have any woman on the planet - want more from you when you couldn't even keep someone like Raphael?

You've known each other for three fucking days. What makes you think he could even feel anything else for you after such a short time? How delusional do you have to be to even have a thought like that?

You're on the verge of jumping out of the car and walking home. 

How are you supposed to look him in the face now? Charles is not stupid, he would immediately notice that something is wrong. And you can't lie to him either, because he would see right through you. You don't want to face your feelings either, because that would mean that you have feelings for him that go beyond your friendship - and you are not ready for that pain. 

When Charles steps out of the bistro onto the street with two bags in his hand, you feel sick. Your appetite is abruptly gone, and just the thought of eating something makes you scrunch up your nose. How are you going to be able to eat anything after what happened?

Pull yourself together, you tell yourself. That's not a solution either. 

The only reasonable solution is obvious. The line that you've been pushing back and forth more than frequently over the past few days must stand nailed between you from now on. And it must be drawn up so that you can't cross it as you please. You have to protect yourself, protect your heart - especially after the thing with Raphael - and that's the only way without banning Charles from your life. 

Because that's the last thing you want. And you'll do anything to stop that from happening. 

"Here," Charles says as he rejoins you, handing you a bag. "I wasn't sure which ham you liked, so I just picked the one that looked the best." He places his own bag on the center console before steering the old Renault onto Nice's streets. 

Silence settles between you as you drive home. While Charles takes a bite of his sandwich in the meantime, you pick apart the bread with your fingers. 

To build this wall that is supposed to protect your heart, you need distance, which is definitely not possible in your small apartment. And the fact that you share a bed doesn't make matters any better, of course. For sure, it would be smarter if you reinstate your old deal - one of you sleeps in the bed, the other on the couch. 

But how are you supposed to set that up after you just agreed on the new arrangement at noon today? Snubbing Charles would be too obvious. He'd notice something was wrong, and he'd definitely be able to conclude that it had something to do with your almost-kiss. 

The fact that he will be out of the country for the next few days could be an advantage. The physical distance and the fact that you won't be spending every single second of the day together could build the wall between you up brick by brick. After that, you could claim that you are used to sleeping alone again - humans are creatures of habit, after all. And by then you will have shared the bed only twice. 

That shouldn't really be so obvious - right?

"Don't you like it?" asks Charles as you cross the border to Monaco. His gaze lingers briefly on your sandwich, which by now looks a bit messy. 

" Um, yes I do," you answer quietly and bite off a piece of it. Under other circumstances, the sandwich would actually taste delicious, but now it seems to have no taste at all. You chew on it a bit before choking down the dry lump of bread. "Thanks for getting us something to eat."

Your roommate smiles at you. "I'm sure my nutritionist would scold me if he saw me eating an entire sandwich in the middle of the night." He looks at the rest of his meal. "Even though it has lettuce and avocado on it." He tucks the last corner of his sandwich between his teeth, then grins at you with his mouth open. 

You roll your eyes. "You're disgusting."

His grin widens even more. "You love me," he teases you with his mouth full before swallowing. 

You don't even think to respond. 

The rest of the ride is quiet, and even when you arrive home, you remain silent. The silence is not uncomfortable, but the tension between you is still palpable. As you stand side by side in the bathroom brushing your teeth, you avoid Charles' gaze in the mirror, which you can clearly feel on you. 

The silence, however, gives you the opportunity to prepare yourself for what is about to come. It will be the last time you share a bed with Charles - which sounds like something you've been doing for years. The fact that your friendship feels like this doesn't make it any easier. 

If Charles comes home from Italy and you tell him you prefer the couch, he will surely feel put out. And rejecting your closest friend in such a way may not feel right, but keeping you safe is a priority. One thing you had to learn from Raphael. 

When you enter the bedroom in sleeping clothes, Charles is already in bed. He's lying on his side, facing the center, and apparently the man doesn't own pajamas, because his bare chest glows warmly in the light of the bedside lamp. He scrolls around on his phone, his upper arm resting on his side so that his biceps look even beefier. 

"I set an alarm, hope that's okay with you," he says as you lie down on your side of the bed and slip under the covers. "I have to get out on time, and then we can have a proper goodbye."

You plug your phone into the charger and then place it next to your pillow. "It's all good. We'll be fine." You pull your blanket up to your chin and snuggle in deep, trying to block out the fact that Charles is lying shirtless next to you. 

The brunette sets his phone aside, then flicks off the bedside lamp. As the room is in darkness, it feels like he's lying skin to skin next to you. You can feel his closeness, his warmth, and you would love to build a wall of pillows between you to bring the imaginary boundary into the physical world. 

You turn onto your back and stare at the ceiling, hearing Charles move under his covers as well, and hold your breath as you feel him rest his hand on your bedding. It's like he's reaching out for your hand. 

"I was with my ex yesterday," he says quietly, as if he doesn't dare say it out loud. 

You try to suppress the tugging in your chest. You have no right to feel this way when at the same time you wish there were countless pillows between you. You have no right to it when you're trying to protect your heart. You have no right to feel this way about your friend. 

"With Annika?" Your voice mirrors his, quiet, calm, hesitant. 

You hear his pillow ruffle. He nods. "She's the reason you and I share the apartment. She's living in my first apartment right now. Well, I'm still letting her live there." 

You purse your lips. "Your buddy from yesterday - he said he heard about you two and that he was sorry." You fight the urge to reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. Him revealing himself to you is something you didn't expect.

"Yeah, that was Nico." He takes a deep breath. "Annika cheated on me."

Confused, you turn in his direction, even though you can't see him. "And then you still let her live there?"

He turns as well, facing you. "I wasn't a good boyfriend during the years we were a couple. My job was always my priority, I couldn't give her what she needed. She tried - really tried - but I never really got into it and -" He rubs his palm over his forehead. 

"- and then she cheated on you." You feel like wrapping him in your arms. "Are you letting her stay in the apartment because you feel guilty?" 

"I - I don't know - maybe -" His breath catches and you can clearly hear him struggling with himself. "Maybe if I had paid more attention to her, this wouldn't have happened. If I had taken more time to be with her. If -"

"Stop," you interrupt him harshly, "We're not going to continue this spiral of thought. There's no point going through the ifs, ands, and buts because you can't change it now. You can't change the fact that she cheated on you, and you can't turn back time to make it better. The only thing you can do is do better next time."

The thought of Charles eventually having a new girlfriend and making a real effort with her makes you feel sick. You don't like it, this fucking jealousy that's spreading through you, creeping through your veins like battery acid and leaving a sickening taste in your mouth. 

You try to mask it, even as tears spring to your eyes. "I don't know how exhausting your job in the car industry is, but maybe you can find someone who can walk the road with you. Who can travel with you when your job requires it. Who will stay by your side and support you when things get tough and stressful." Your voice trembles, and you hope Charles can't hear it. 

"Do you think there's someone like that for me? Who's willing to give up that much for me?" he asks, scooting a little closer to you. 

The voice in your head almost screams at you - "me, me, me" - but of course you can't repeat that out loud, so you nod. 

In fact, you'd be willing to give up everything for him, even though it's not much, of course. You have no job, no responsibilities except for the apartment, whose rent you don't have to pay, and you'd give anything to explore the world. 

But Charles is your roommate, your friend. You want someone for him who can make him happy. Even if it's not you. 

"Of course," you answer quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "I believe that there is a person out there for everyone. A soulmate to share everything with. Someone who's there for you and with whom you don't have to pretend to be somebody else."

"Hmm." You feel Charles' breath on your face. Only then do you realize how close he is to you. "So there's someone for you, too. Someone who will make time for you, won't let you down, and will take care of you. And most importantly, someone who doesn't fuck other women."

You have to smile. "The latter would be enough for me. But even that seems impossible. After all, look at us. We've both been cheated on."

Charles shrugs. "But if that hadn't happened, we wouldn't be living together now. We wouldn't even know each other, we wouldn't be friends." He exhales. "The fact that we both got cheated on really sucks, of course - but we found each other through it. And I wouldn't trade that for anything in this world."

Something tugs at your heart. You place another brick on the imaginary wall between you. 

"I don't want to go to Italy."

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice."

Charles exhales a breath. "You said you were just going to sit here and wait for me to come home." He sounds concerned. 

"I was kidding," you try to lighten the situation. "I'm going to work, of course." The lie tastes bitter on your tongue. "And I still have Kika and Pierre." You pause. "And Lando."

You can feel your friend stiffen beside you at the mention of the Brit. "I thought you're happy with the tiramisu you had here on site?" His voice sounds colder and more bitter than it did a few seconds ago. 

"I am." You turn away from him, onto your back, to put distance between you. "But there are other desserts to try, aren't there? Or sandwiches. Pasta. Or something else. I've got to get these few days over somehow."

Unlike you, Charles notes that the meals you listed are all things you've already eaten together. That you would want to possibly top those few memories you have with him with Lando leaves a sickening taste in his mouth.

"Well, if you have to work and you're meeting with Kika and Pierre and we're facetiming in between, you might not have that much time to try other dessert. Or sandwiches. Pasta. Or something else," he repeats your words. 

"We'll see. If there really is someone suitable out there for me, I'm definitely not going to find him on our couch." When Charles doesn't answer, you declare the conversation to be over. You close your eyes, snuggle deeper into your blanket, and try to block out the fact that the person you want - the one who might be right for you - is lying shirtless next to you. 

You already have, Charles answers you in his mind, taking a deep breath. Your scent still clings to his bedclothes from noon today, his skin tingling as he breathes it in. Me. Me. Me.

next part

[mulderscully]

i am not sure how to phrase this, and i am certain nothing i can say will even breach the depth of what this election means and how difficult it has been to follow.

the closer the election comes the more anxious i am becoming.

there are less than two weeks to go, and the reality of trump becoming president again feels more and more real. this is the man who told people to take horse tranquilizers during an world wide pandemic that killed millions. this is the man who has been accused of rape multiple times. this is the man who said pregnant people should be arrested for abortions. this is the man who said they are performing transgender surgeries in schools. this is the man who said shit hole counties. this is the man who threw paper towels to puerto ricans after hurricane maria destroyed the island. this is the man who called men of color rapists and criminals. this is the man who said he wants to be a dictator. this is the man who promised to finish the job of a genocide.

make no mistake that i believe kamala harris is a bad person. i do not care that she is a woman. i do not care that she is a person of color. those things do not change the fact that she is a bad person. she is not a tv character we can stan, she is not a celebrity to have a parasocial relationship with.

her stance on israel is sickening, and i do not feel proud to vote for her. but she is the only person standing between trump and dictatorship.

i do believe the people of the united states can someday challenge the broken two party system, i believe we can abolish the two party system. not in two weeks.

not voting, or voting third party, in my opinion, is not using your voice for good. a trump re-election will be catastrophic for the entire world. he will be able to choose more right wing supreme court justices.

under a kamala harris presidency we can make steps forward to press democrats in congress to do better, we can push her to make decisions we want her to as a public servant - because she may not be the best leader but she is not a dictator.

i understand the quesy feeling of this election. i understand not being proud of voting. this is not a movie where we ride off into a sunset knowing that if harris wins the world will be at peace. that is wrong. it's terrible. but i believe in the duty of making sure we use all of our power to keep pain and suffering to a minimum with the cards that have in our hands in the present moment so we can have better choice and outcomes in the future.

please, for the love of god, vote for kamala harris. we cannot more forward by going backward. we cannot stand by the door when there is an armed shooter on the other side. we have to block the way.

[signedkoko]

You are such a sweetie! Since your requests are open, if you feel inspired and motivated by this (otherwise you can 100% ignore it, writing is hard - I know), could I request a one-shot for Vox who falls in love with a imp!reader? Would love to see how you write their "forbidden" love, how would Vox feel and what if the other Vee's found out about it. It doesn't have to be a story, you can do it in headcannon format if you feel like it suits better! Just try to have fun ♡ -Nia

Intern [Romantic]

In which the techy overlord falls for one of his new hellborn employees, much to his dismay. Reader is genderneutral.

Song - Break My Heart by Dua Lipa

Any hellborn would die for the opportunity that graced you. Well, graced was not the right word; you fought for months against many candidates, beefed up your resume, and pulled some strings to get an unpaid internship for the Vee's. More specifically, a three-month internship at VoxTek with the potential to be hired in immediately after. 

It was a position people could only dream of, especially hellborn. Sinner-based companies had a tendency to place sinners above hellborns, but you knew that and used it to your advantage. You couldn't go in as equal; you had to know you were less and make up for it. 

The job itself wasn't all that bad, either. It was a lot of unpaid hours, from the crack of dawn to the dip of the sun or later, but it mostly involved the small details. Coffee, sorting, and delivering mail between sections were hard to mess up. 

There was the rare extra task where someone messed up and they needed someone to cover quickly. 

Today was one of those days. You were at the right place at the right time, sitting by the coffee machine, grabbing yourself your first cup of the day. 

That was when he entered, his shoes tapping on the floor with confident clicks, and when he spoke it commanded attention. 

Mostly because he spoke through every speaker in the building at once. 

"Who here can follow me? No questions asked."

Before anyone could chime in, his monitor did a full rotation of the room, his eyes narrowing when they landed on you. 

Your ear piece buzzed to life. 

"You, follow me. Now." The overlord spoke directly into your ear using the device, and knowing this may be an opportunity of a lifetime, you followed. 

There was no question about who it was: a monitor for a head, control of all technology, and a towering seven feet tall. Vox was the top of the top, and it was hard to believe you were allowed to so much as stand next to him. 

It was hard to keep up with his speed-walking pace, but he eventually led you into the mail elevator, hitting the twelfth floor while he muttered something about incompetence amongst hires and how he always had to take control of every production if he wanted it done right. 

With a ding and the slow release of the elevator doors, he took the lead once more, though this time he was walking slower and backwards, navigating with ease despite looking directly at you. 

"Alrighty intern, ready for your shot at becoming something more? Because our previous voiceover person just walked out on us, and now you'll be covering for them." He stopped with his back against a door, grabbing the handle and awaiting your reply. 

"But I only just spoke to..." 

"You're cute, you know that? How many videos do you think are out there with your voice? I listened to them all the moment I saw you." Vox only smiled wider when his words sunk in; he saw the usual flash of embarrassment as you pondered what he might have seen. Without waiting any longer, he pushed the door open, spinning so he was finally walking normally. 

It was a recording studio, and there were several other employees waiting, mostly those handling the recording equipment and some holding papers. 

Vox sat himself in a comfortable rolling chair in front of the glass window that overlooked the recording studio, spinning to hand you some papers that he took from a demon next to him. 

"Here is your script; all you have to do is read. Make it sound exciting! Something new, something beyond anyone's imagination, is now available to the public!" He put on a voice as he continued, demonstrating what he hoped you could manage. Someone ushered you into the booth and plopped some headphones over your ears. 

"From the top! 3...2..."

The whole process was a thrill, but you managed to run over the script in three separate recordings, of which Vox cited them all as 'stunning' or 'absolutely perfect!', though the producer claimed to need multiple for any potential recording malfunctions. 

For an overlord, he had been oddly kind and encouraging throughout the process, and he walked you out himself when everything wrapped up. 

Vox continued to speak about what the script was for and how excited he was for the launch, all while leading you through parts of the building you had never been to before. You thought after that he would have sent you back down and forgotten everything, but eventually you found yourself in front of your supervisor. 

"Vox! Sir- oh no, had our intern upset you?"

"No, no, not at all. Sorry, what was your name again? Ally? Yeah, listen, Ally, I need you to handle the paperwork they were assigned. Oh! And I want them promoted to my personal studio for tomorrow, too."

Before you or the sinner could ask questions, Vox was already out of there, chipper as ever. 

That evening, you went home with an upgraded badge and access card, along with details on your new position and expectations. It was a lot to get through, but you felt extremely proud of yourself for doing so well. Hell, you met THE Vox, and he wanted you to be the voice of VoxTek? 

While flipping through the pile of information, the most surprising aspect was the six-figure salary you were about to get started on. 

. . .

Surrounded by monitors, Vox watched various camera feeds as they traced your steps home. Vox saw you smile from several angles, the electricity between his antennae flickering. Each monitor had some kind of file or piece of information on you, and he was only pulled out of his trance when he got a call from Velvette. 

"Hello there, Velvette! What can I help you with today?" Leaning back in his chair, the overlord flicked his wrist, which shot the call from his monitor onto one of the many others displaying you. 

"I need your guys for a sh- wait. Vox, what the fuck is all of that?" While the fashionista originally had her eyes elsewhere, her gaze quickly fixed on his background, which was quickly followed by all the screens going blank with his logo. 

"That? Oh, oh no, its nothing at a-" 

"That's the imp you were talking about last week! The one you were trying to get to apply to VoxTek!" 

"Well, maybe, but-"

Once again, she cut him off with a gurgling groan. 

"Listen, I don't care who or what you fuck; just get your camera crew here and we'll talk about this later. Kay? Kisses!" Before she abruptly hung up on him, he could have sworn he heard a small 'at least they're hot' before the call disconnected. 

Tensed from the interaction, Vox could only groan and dramatically fall back into his chair, tapping his claws along the armrest. 

So what if he scouted you out? You didn't know that, and you were happy about it anyway! One by one, each monitor opened back up on your data, the overlord grinning. 

It was better this way; everyone would think it was the intern going after him, so nobody knew one of the top overlords in hell was dotting on some helpless imp.

Author's Note - I love Vox so much...hes so obsessive but he denies every accusation (its the same w Alastor lmao) like its going to hurt him! But thank you so much for the request Nia, I hope this interests you 🖤

Word Count - 1,219

[casuallyanidiot]

Yandere model who basically dictates your career.

Yandere Model doesn't want anyone but you doing his makeup and hair. He's such a brat about it, and he'll refuse to work with a brand if they won't hire you to work with him. His looks and attitude have made him extremely desired and popular within the fashion industry, so any company worth their while would bend over backwards to have him wearing their clothing or holding their products.

Yandere Model who credits his whole career to you. When he first started, he was a nervous kid who could hardly walk in a straight line, much less confidently down the runway. He had been walking for a smaller clothing line at the time, an unknown to the masses, and you were a novice makeup artist. You admittedly had been working for a few months before the two of you met, so he viewed you with a nervous sort of respect.

"I don't really know what I'm doing here," He admitted with a shy, boyish smile, and you only shushed him and pushed his hair back. He shuddered under your careful touch.

"Oh shush," You murmured and dabbed some foundation onto his skin. "You'll do great. You've got something about you," You said, and he swore he felt his heart burst right then and there.

He kept those simple words in mind, and he strutted down that stage. After that, he was getting booked left and right.

Yandere Model who began to stalk you after he started getting more successful. Your skills weren't crazy good, but you did a decent job, and he craved your presence more than he'd like to admit. He starts booking gigs that are way below his pay grade simply for the purpose of meeting with you. Eventually, Yandere Model gets a bit tired of this. Wouldn't you be so grateful to him if he brought you to him instead.

Yandere Model will always feel like he owes you for all the love and money he's gained. You gave him inspiration and confidence, and he can't help but wish you would feel grateful to him. You would never get paid this much without him. You would never get to work with any of these other pompous, fashionista fucks if it wasn't for his word.

Yandere Model who gets frustrated when you don't let him into your personal life after all he's done for you. You say that you want to keep it professional. Maybe it's his fault for never making it clear, but not one little bit of this whole thing was professional.

Yandere Model who loses his shit after he finds out you've been working with other models at other shows where he wasn't there. You must've used the time where he wasn't constantly hanging around you to make connections, and now, now you think you can leave him. He slipped up, and now you think you can go and whore yourself around when he's not there to watch you.

Maybe he can finally clarify where exactly you stand in this relationship now that he has you locked up in his dressing room.

[sweetcocopowder]

Could i have a demon dean fic with the prompts "Are you afraid of me?" And "Take it off" with a male reader please

Prompt 6 | Crossroads Demon!Dean x Male! Reader

Synopsis: You finally bring yourself to summon a crossroads demon to strike a deal. But you quickly find out that this crossroads demon does things a lil differently to seal a deal.

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut. Tongue fucking. Size kink. Dean's a big boy. Reader's short. Praise. If i miss anything, please tell me. It's late at night.

Notes: I am so sorry that this took forever to post. This is probably the longest fic for the Milestone. I wanted to get it right since these types of prompts take me forever to write. But, I hope your enjoy hehe

You can’t get your breathing under control. It comes short and shallow that it makes your head dizzy and light. It actually worked. The ritual actually worked. You stumble backwards, your feet catching against each other on the loose gravel as you fall on your ass. So much for first impressions.

The demon stands tall in the middle of the crossroads clad in a pitch black suit. He sweeps a hand through his blonde hair, trying to tame it but some strands still fall over his freckled face. His black eyes scan over his surroundings before they flicker to an intoxicating green. They set upon you, a frown forming deep upon his features.

“You’re a little pipsqueak now aren’t you,” the crossroad’s demon comments.

At that, you’re quick to your feet, dusting yourself off as thoroughly as you can. You puff out your chest and square your shoulders, because you’re in charge. You’re the one that summoned this demon. You’re the one making the deal. How dare he call you that when you’re the only offering him something in return.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at him, but your voice comes out cracked.

The demon chuckles, a set of fangs showing from behind his lips. He walks towards you, and you quickly realize just how much taller he is than you. You’re short for a man, only coming up to a 5’5. And standing next to someone over 6 feet is always something.

“I can call you whatever I damn well please,” the demon snaps.

You flinch slightly, brows furrowing in anger at the mouth on this hellish creature. He may not have any horns. Or no tail. Or any hooves in those dress shoes he wears. But he sure as hell smells like a demon. Sulphur at its finest.

“I’m here to make a deal,” you get back onto topic, the reason why you even summoned him here in the first place.

The demon rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know why you’re here. Didn’t summon me for a chit chat now did you?”

He pinches your chin between his thumb and pointer, inspecting you. He moves your head back and forth, looking over every inch of you. You swat his hand away at the feeling of your cheeks flushing something hot.

“Is it money you want? You want your girlfriend to love you? Want a promotion at your job you’ve been stuck in for eight years? Or want your boss dead?” The demon lists off on his clawed fingers.

“What!? No!” You bark out.

“A new car? Your partner to be pregnant?” The demon asks a few more things. “I can do that myself if you want. If you’re the one shooting blanks then you’ve come to the right person. Probably the straightest and strongest shooter you’ve met!” He chuckles loudly.

“No! What are you going on about?”

The demon laughs harder, the noise seeming loud out in the open, deserted road. “Then what is it you want, pipsqueak?”

You ignore the comment. “I want to be six foot tall,” you answer with as much confidence as you can muster.

The demon goes silent. He stares at you with wide eyes, as if you’re pulling his demonic leg. But when you stand there in silence, not speaking a punch line, it settles into the demon that you aren’t joking.

As much as you’d like to be joking, you’re not. You’re sick and tired of people belittling you because of how short you are. Treating you like a child even though you’re a grown ass man. It’s humiliating at some points. And this demon is just showing you that it’s all true.

How will you explain it when you come back to your boring office job six feet tall? You’ll get to that afterwards.

“So,” the demon clears his throat. “You want to sell you soul to be six feet tall? Am I correct?” He asks bluntly, gesturing his hands around as he speaks.

You nod with a, “Yes.”

The demon pops a hip out with a hand placed over it. You watch the motion before dragging your eyes back up. You’d be a fool to admit the demon before you isn’t hot. You wonder if this is what he looked like before he became a demon. How does becoming a demon even work?

The demon shrugs. “Well I guess I know people that have done worse.” He sighs. “Do you know how a crossroads deal is made?” The demon asks with a cocked eyebrow. He makes his way towards you again, reaching out and patting down your tie.

“Yes. A kiss to seal to deal,” you say with confidence.

Just a simple kiss.

“I do things differently,” he says as he hooks a finger into the tie.  

“What?” You utter out weakly before you can control yourself.

With the smell of burning fabric, the fabric touching the demon’s finger burns a neat line. It falls off, flopping to the ground. His green eyes land on you and you find yourself unable to speak. A hand hooks into your belt and you stiffen up greatly, your face burning a bright red once again.

“My deals are struck a lil’ more intimately. A little more hands on,” the demon grins, his lips only mere inches away from yours.

You can smell the demon better than before now. The smell of sulphur still lingers, but there’s something else that lingers. Something much sweeter. It’s not a pleasant combination of smells though. But what else did you expect a demon to smell like. Rainbows and unicorns?

But you know what the demon is talking about. You summoned a cross roads demon. Not a fucking succubus.

Yet at the same time, you don’t want to have to do the entire ritual again just to get an ugly demon. It would be a shame to pass up on an opportunity like this. Yes? Maybe you are a little messed up in the head. But those green, green eyes. You can’t seem to look away from them.

“Do you still want to be six foot tall?” The demon all but growls out right in your ear.

You swallow thickly. What harm could getting fucked by a demon to be a little bit taller do? You’re just selling your soul.

“Y-yes,” you utter out.

The grin that spreads across the demon’s face is devious. “Are you afraid of me?” He asks, his voice low and even.

It goes straight to your crotch though. You’ve never had anyone come onto you like this but you’re quickly realizing you might be more into it than you may have first realized. You swallow thickly, not being able to look away from the demon’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you squeak out.

The crossroads demon takes a large step away from you with a hearty laugh spilling from his lips. You’re confused. You can’t help but stand there dumbstruck at the sudden change. With the demon’s back turned, you quickly adjust yourself in your suit pants. Don’t tell yourself that he was joking?

The demon turns back around to you, his eyes looking you up and down as if you’re a piece of meat. You can’t help but step from one foot to the other under the watchful, dark gaze.

“Take it off,” the demon suddenly says.

“W-what?” You utter.

“I said,” the demon makes his way back towards you, placing a finger on your chest. “Take this fucking suit off or otherwise you’ll be walking home in nothing but your birthday suit.”

Oh. Oh. Oh my lord. You can feel yourself become as bright as a tomato and yet, you follow the command instantly. You begin stripping, starting with your coat and button up, then to kicking off your shoes. With only a split second of hesitant, you take off your suit pants and hesitate at your underwear. You look to the demon before you who only cocks an eyebrow your way. You swallow thickly again, butterflies coming to your chest as you strip everything. You cover yourself subconsciously with your hands in front of yourself, trying to hide your bulge.

You flinch at the warm hand splayed across your chest suddenly. You can’t drag your eyes away from the crossroads demon. He licks his lips in anticipation, liking what he sees before him.

His hand glides up your neck to the back of your hair, gripping in to tug your face upwards to him. He’s so much taller than you it’s almost intoxicating. You’re almost standing on your toes as he comes down for a kiss, capturing your lips with teeth and tongue. You can’t help but moan into the kiss as the demon grabs onto your sides tightly. His sharp nails dig into your soft skin causing a harsh shiver to run down your naked back.

The demon pulls away, looking down at you with devious green eyes. A string of saliva connects your flush lips to his and all you find yourself doing is staring.

“Now,” the demon purrs, “Did you want to take this on the hard gravel or do you want to try and stand and take it?” He asks lowly.

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. The thought of your back or stomach getting scuffed up doesn’t sound all that pleasant in your eyes.

“I’ll be alright standing,” you say, a slight shake in your voice.

The demon shrugs with a cocky expression on his face. “Alright,” he mumbles, “It’s your deal.”

He then drop to his knees in the loose gravel, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabs onto your thighs and spins you around. Definitely not the direction you thought this was heading, but you don’t complain otherwise. You can’t help the shaky exhale that leaves your lips at the sudden direction this is turning. This is not what you thought would be happening tonight, but you can’t remember the last time you were properly laid. So may as well take this as it is.

Large hands spread your cheeks open and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You try and hold back the whimper that tries to escapes your throat as hot breath touches your skin. You bite down on your knuckles as you bend over just a little, giving the demon a better look.

“I’m gonna loosen you up a bit,” you hear the grin on the demon’s voice, his face buried under you. “Don’t want this to be unpleasant is all. May be a demon but I’m not a monster.”

“Who would hav- AH!”

You don’t get much warming than that before a hot tongue licks from the base of your balls all the way to your hole. You shiver violently at the feeling. Does his tongue feel much stickier and thicker than a normal humans or is that just your imagination? He licks a long strip from your balls to your ass again, this time slower than the last. And this time you can’t help the sound that comes from your mouth. You place both of your hands on your knees with your head bowed between your shoulders. This might be a little harder than you thought.

“Don’t hold back, pipsqueak. I love hearing those beautiful noises,” the demon says huskily. “It’s like a reward.”

You go to say something, but everything and anything you were going to do is thrown away as a thick tongue is pushed past the tight rim of your ass. You let out a startled cry at the odd sensation of the hot, sticky tongue within you. It’s as thick as at least three fingers and feels longer than such. It prods and seeps deeper within you, as if searching for something. It stretches you oddly, the strange feeling earning a whimpered moan from your lips.

You bend over a little more, fisting your hands on your knees as they begin to shake. You shudder an exhale as the demon’s tongue curls within you, folding on top of itself to make itself thicker before coiling back out. This is not what you had in mind, but you must admit it does feel amazing. If he keeps this up, you might have to take it to the gravel because your legs might just give way.

You can’t help but keen and gasp at the warm tongue prodding and pushing against your prostate. Your legs shake as it only feels like he goes deeper, and deeper. A sheen of sweat starts to cover your skin that’s quickly cooled in the cold night air.

Your cock sits half hard between your legs, but it wouldn’t take much more to get yourself to full length. You wrap a hand around your cock, giving yourself a few dry strokes. You can’t help the groans and whines that slip through your parted lips as the demon seems content in eating you out for the time being.

After another minute of prodding and twisting, you feel yourself already coming close. This is all so new and blissful that you can’t help yourself. You’re coming in your hand before you even know it. You gasp and groan, clenching your jaw as the tongue retracts from within you. A little shame rids into your gut, but the satisfaction out weights it for now.

A dark chuckle comes from behind you, “You lasted a little longer than some of the other fellas that come to me.”

“Nice to know,” you pant out.

You don’t think you can stand much longer. You return your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“But we ain’t done, pipsqueak,” the demon rumbles as he stands to his feet.

You peer over your shoulder with wide eyes to catch the demon wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His blonde hair is ruffled, and those green eyes only watch you with a hunger that’s on the verge of starving.

“Deal isn’t struck until I come in you,” he says bluntly.

“W-what?” You stutter.

The demon leans into your back, wrapping his arms around your middle and hooking his chin on top of your head. He engulfs you fully, holding on tight so that you can’t leave. He leans down and breathes into your ear, and you can’t help but freeze up and become ridged.

He speaks slower and gruffer this time, his voice rough in your ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you come again from just my cock. And nothing else. And then I’m going to fill you up so that you, a little pipsqueak like yourself can become nice and tall to impress everyone around you.”

Goosebumps run across your cool skin at the thought of such. You’ve never had anyone talk to you like this. You’ve never let anyone talk to you like this, but oh my do you like it a little bit too much. The rough words go straight to your soft cock, making it twitch.

“Do you want me to do that?” The demon asks as one of his hands slides back around to your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. “Can you do that for me? Hmm?”

You breath out shakily, “Y-yes, please.”

You can feel him grin again against your neck before giving your flushed skin a kiss. He moves away but just enough so that he can undo his belt. The clinking of the buckle is loud on the open road, and you suddenly become very aware of where you are. You glance around at the empty fields that surround the gravel crossroads. No one comes down here and you bloody hope that no one decides to spontaneously come down a deserted road. But all of that is quickly washed away as a thumb prods into your saliva slicked ass. You grit your teeth at the wet sound and the feel of the cool saliva running down your legs.

The demon hums behind you, almost satisfied with what he’s inspecting. “I think I over did it a little, but you’ll be perfect all the same.”

The thumb disappears to only be replaced by the warmth of the demon’s cock. From what you can feel, he’s big. You can’t help but tense up as you suddenly over think everything. But a hand comes around your front, resting over your heart.

“Oh my,” the demon hums. “Now now, that won’t do. Relaaax, pipsqueak. I ain’t going to do this if you don’t want to. It’s your deal after all.”

The statement does in fact calm you down. You’re here to make a deal. He may be a demon, but he hasn’t hurt you as of yet. Which is reassuring to you right now.

“L-Let’s seal the deal,” you shakily utter out. Not out of fear, but more anticipation and need.

A low chuckle in your ear has your soft dick twitching. The demon pushes past the rim of your ass, the head of his girthy cock slipping in easily. You gasp loudly as he pushes in a little further before pulling out and slamming his hips flush against your ass. He bottom’s out quickly, the entire length of his dick sitting snuggling inside of you. He worked you open well enough to do so, a deep chuckle emitting from his flushed lips. He curves in just the right way that hits against your prostate almost perfectly. The way that has your knees becoming weak and leaves you breathless. He stretches you a little painfully, more so than his tongue but you find yourself only wanting more. The pleasure that courses through your gut fizzles your head and you find yourself not thinking straight.

The demon begins a quick pace, using the hand on your chest to keep you in position as he thrusts into you. He more or less towers over you, being able to hold you up if your legs decided they didn’t want to support you any longer.

The noises that comes from your mouth are ones of pure bliss. You don’t know where to put your hands and after a while you end up placing a one on top of the demon’s on your chest. He chuckles at that, low and deep into the nape of your neck before grabbing a hold of both of your wrists. He crosses your arms in front of your chest, holding onto you tightly as he pounds his hips into your ass. The wet plap of the demon’s hips is numbed out by just how loud you are. You whine and keen and moan with every thrust and every inch he gives you.

You try to catch your breath but every time it’s knocked out of you with each thrust. You’re unable to keep yourself quiet at the closeness and the fulfilment of the demon. He breathes into your neck, mouthing words and kisses into your sweaty skin. Your once soft dick now bounces between your legs half hard. You don’t think you could handle anything touching your dick at the moment. Everything buzzes and trembles in all the right ways.

“You’re probably the best one yet,” the demon grins in your ear. “Taking my cock like a good lil’ boy.”

The praise makes you feel high. You get lost in everything, the constant stretch and pull of the demon pounding without tiredness into your ass. You hunch over, allowing better access for the demon and he follows you. Towering over you, holding you close to his chest. Engulfed in his arms that could wrap around your entirely.

You come a second time, this time being much harsher than the first. You forget how to breath and forget where you are for a second. The demon lets up. Even when you’ve tightened around him, it only makes his movements even more driven. He pumps once, twice before driving his cock deep within you. The warm sensation of him filling you makes your entire body shudder. Makes your dick twitch, expelling a little more cum before once again softening between your legs.

Your legs tremble and shake and if it weren’t for the demon holding onto you, you would have fallen on your face by now in the gravel. You breath heavily, trying to catch your breath as the demon makes sure every last drop of him is expelled inside of you. Sealing the deal.

He pulls out and you whine at the sudden loss. It’s a pathetic noise that you can’t stop. You never knew you could make so many noises until tonight. Nothing that has ever been drawn from you before. And find yourself having loved every moment.

“Can you stand?” The demon chuckles.

You lick your lips and swallow thickly. After a while, you nod sharply as you drag your feet under you. The demon lets you go but keeps his hands on you, afraid you may fall to your knees. But you don’t, you shake a little, but you stand all the same.

You can feel the demon’s cum drippling down your leg and you already know it’s going to be a fun five hour drive home. You might have to grab a motel because five hours sounds like five days right now.

When you turn to face the demon, you now stand eye to eye with his green gaze. He grins from ear to ear with a cocked eyebrow. The deal has been struck.

You don’t feel any different, but the ground does now look as if it’s further away. You’ve gotten your extra inches. Just like that.

“Th-thank you,” you manage to get out.

This makes the crossroads demon laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. Crow’s feet scratch at the corner of his eyes. He points to you with a toothy smile.

“You know, if you ever want to make another deal, call on me personally,” the demon chuckles deeply, “This was fun.”

That, actually sounds like a good idea. You work in an office. You’re digging yourself an early grave anyways.

“And how should I-“ you have to lick your lips, your entire mouth dry. “How should I do that?” You ask.

“Dean,” the demon finally greets himself. “The name’s Dean.”

-

:)

[spinningwebsandtales]

DMC5 Guys Accidentally Kissing Reader HCs

Requested by @danielle-marie​

(A/N:) Thank you for the request! I love doing these headcanons for my readers. They’re really fun to write and are some of my most popular! Buckle in for some fluff everyone cause this is gonna be fun! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

Dante X FemReader

Dante always teases you, acting like he’s going to kiss you.

You push him away thinking he’s mostly just joking, which he’s actually just trying to hide his actual feelings under his goofy persona.

So you actually never know what he is thinking or feeling cause he always hides everything under corny jokes or a grin.

Dante hides the fact well that the feelings he has for you runs deeper than even he can imagine.

Then the day came that day that he could no longer hide his feelings.

It had been a normal day when the job came in from Morrison. Dante wanted you to stay but you refused.

Dante knew it was going to be a difficult mission but you stayed in and handled it as you normally do.

His adrenaline was pumping at the end of the fight and he wasn’t thinking straight when he wrapped around your waist.

You gasped at the sudden touch before you were tugged into his side and Dante’s lips were on yours.

You stiffened looking at him with wide eyes before Dante regained his bearings.

He released you quickly as you stumbled backwards.

He sheepishly looked down, not knowing how to explain that it had been an accident when you said his name.

He looked up, surprised to see you so close.

“Is that how you feel?”

“Yeah.”

You kissed him gently back.

Vergil X FemReader

Vergil always seems to keep you at arms length so you honestly can’t tell if he likes you or just tolerates you.

Every time you get a little too close he puts distance between you both.

It hurts your feelings but you keep the hurt hidden as it would just push him away more.

He throws himself headfirst into whatever he’s doing, especially when it comes to battle.

Demons have no chance when Vergil is before them with Yamato.

You are rarely able to help when it comes to battles.

One day that changed when the hoard you and him came across was proving too much for even Vergil.

He’s too busy trying to keep himself alive that he has no time to check on you.

When he dispatches the last one he turns to find you, only to see you gone.

Despite his cool attitude towards you he cares deeply. So deeply it scares him.

He just doesn’t know how to express himself very well and it comes off as distant and harsh.

But when he finds you laying on the ground, surrounded by demon corpses and your body in a pool of blood. His blood freezes.

He rushes to your side knowing that he just lost one of the people he truly cares about.

Overwhelmed by his emotions and not used to feeling such things he kisses you as he’s scared he’s lost you.

You stir causing Vergil to stiffen and release you.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“I thought you were dead. It was an accident I didn’t know what to do.”

“Well at least that confirms that you don’t hate me.”

I could never hate you.”

Nero X FemReader

Nero and you have a very special relationship as you both like each other but have a hard time expressing how you both feel.

You both think so much alike you butt heads quite often which leads to arguments.

They aren’t arguments where you come to blows but just over stupid things.

Like if Nero leaves the toilet seat up or you left the milk out on the counter.

You both feel stupid afterwards and wind up making up a little later and becoming close once again.

But Nero has been noticing that his feelings for you are changing more and more each day.

He can’t imagine his life without you and it scares him that one of these arguments would have you storming out of his door and life forever.

Today was one of those times he was the most fearful as you were shouting at him with no end in sight.

He couldn’t remember the reason the argument started but here you were shouting and pointing your finger in his face.

He steps back trying to apologize but he can’t even get one word in as you are on a roll.

At a loss on what to do Nero sudden grabs you, pulling you in, and kissing you quickly.

Cutting off your argument you stand there speechless.

“Did you just kiss me?”

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to do and it just happened.”

“What were we arguing about?”

“I don’t remember.”

V X FemReader

V is a quiet man and more often than not he keeps his feelings to himself.

So you really don’t know what he’s thinking majority of the time and he’s good at keeping things hidden.

If his attention isn’t on you, it’s on his ever present book of poems.

You were beginning to think that he loved his book more than you.

It made you huffy if he didn’t pay attention to you in a certain amount of time but you didn’t voice your annoyance.

The reason V would retreat into his book is that he didn’t know how to react to the feelings that swirled inside when you were near.

One night you were making tea for the both of you, enjoying a cozy evening inside.

The radio playing softly in the background while V read from the book out loud.

His voice filling the house with deep rich tones that flowed from his tongue.

You found yourself enraptured as you placed the tea cup on the table at his side.

You leaned closer and closer, hanging onto every sentence until you were as close as possible. 

V paused midsentence to grab his teacup but when he turned, your close proximity was a surprise and he found his lips upon yours.

You stiffened and he quickly moved away, not wanting to insult you or think that was his intentions the whole time.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had gotten so close to me.”

“That’s okay I should have just left your tea and went to sit down. I couldn’t help it as I really liked that one.”

“Would you like me to read it again?”

“Yes please.”

He patted the cushion by his side and you took the offer.

When you sat back down your teacup cupped in trembling hands.

V leaned over kissing your cheek before going back to reading to you.

[marzipanandminutiae]

Since you recently reblogged that post about women's clothing, here's what the OP said in her tags in a post about defending corsets/skirts/parasols - needless to to say your tags about them hating people who enjoy those kinda things were spot-on

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

Good fucking god.

Yeah, I read the whole post in your other ask with the link (I'm not adding it because frankly I don't need more of this horseshit in my life). It was basically them taking someone commenting on the OVERWHELMING trend in historical fiction of making all women who have anything of value to say absolutely despise Gross Icky Skirts and Corsets And (in at least one case I've seen) Parasols

(while also making them baseline Modern Feminine AttractiveTM, and that's definitely a facet of the conversation worth having, too. oh, your heroine eschews corsets because she's Liberated? funny because her tits look perfectly supported. forming cleavage, even. almost like she's. wearing a bra. and her hair, that is loose and not pinned up because Hair Up = Repression is perfectly iron-curled and magically never in her way. hmmmmm.)

and this person responded to that sarcastically like "YEP YOU'RE RIGHT IT WAS ALL FINE AND DANDY FOR 100% OF WOMEN FOREVER!!! THAT'S TOTALLY WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!!! HEEHEE I PUT YOUR POST UNDERWATER BECAUSE IT'S DUMB!!!"

which like. for the love of. just stop; that is so clearly not what was being said

as for the tags, she probably thinks she's being even-handed by acknowledging that some poor backwards souls THOUGHT they liked these things, as they were misguidedly "fighting against progress," but of course they had no other options so they didn't REALLY like any of it. which is just so infantilizing to me

look, the fight for women to be allowed to wear trousers was huge and important. because some women wanted to wear trousers! and do manual labor jobs that require wearing trousers, from which women had historically been excluded! and women who want to wear trousers should be allowed to do that; gendering Lower Half Fabric Tubes is stupid, we're all going to die, and you should adorn your meat-suit in a way that makes you feel comfortable (mentally and physically) and happy and confident!

but. it was a fight for options. it was a fight for choice. it wasn't happening because one garment was good and the other was, to quote The History of the World I Guess, an Evil Virus of Satan. did some dress reformers frame it that way? yes! because humans are human and some humans deal in absolutes! but they didn't represent All Women, any more than the ones who thought wearing trousers was scandalous did

and moreover, this is still coming at things from a baseline assumption that corsets and long skirts- and again, weirdly parasols? women weren't like required to carry parasols at all times back then; do people know that? light skin as a beauty standard is a big conversation to have, but there was no Parasol Law or anything -are universally impractical and uncomfortable. and that any woman who doesn't feel that way must be either brainwashed or intentionally impeding progress

the fact that, in a time when not only are western women are fully allowed to wear trousers but skirts and dresses are seen as inherently formal for some reason, some women STILL feel their happiest and most comfortable in them (and some people of other genders, too!) is proof that you don't have to be a mindless slave of the patriarchy to like these things. if someone came to me and said "you have to give up your skirts and burn your corset; Progress is here!" I would punch them in the face. and I'm a left-wing, feminist lesbian

nobody forced me to dress like this- in fact, society would probably rather I didn't, because it's not making fast fashion companies any money and it's not #ontrend. I grew up primarily in jeans and t-shirts like most kids, teens, and young women nowadays. I chose this completely absent any societal pressures to do so, and indeed, in the face of pressures to NOT present the way I do

and if someone can choose it without that kind of pressure...don't you think there just might have been women who would have kept wearing what they wore even with broader options available? without being Horrible Deluded Serena Joys or whatever?

also I'm sorry but claiming that modern clothes- and implicitly by the rest of the text, modern trousers in specific -have the same breathability as a natural-fiber skirt over a hoop is just hilarious. they may work better for ~your specific lifestyle~ as OP condescendingly phrases it, but wrapping your legs in plastic (or even tight-fitting cotton twill!) is just not going to have the Breeze Capabilities of putting a lampshade around your waist

...not sure why I even wrote this, since in the comments on the original post OP freely admitted that they weren't reading any rebuttals anyone wrote because "women were jailed for wearing pants [which they were sometimes! but that's not the beginning and end of the conversation!] so I don't need your paragraphs." this attitude always comes back to having set ideas about history that you're not willing to have challenged. anyway.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz for seven sentence Sunday! Here’s uhhhhh more than that from a buddietommy vacation threesome fic-

The day is hot enough that Buck is curled up like a bug on the dock between them. He’d stayed in the water longer than Tommy or Eddie had, and had swum out further than either of them, so when he’d crawled back up onto the old wood planks he’d chugged an entire water bottle and promptly passed out. Eddie glances down at his bare torso, just starting to get a little pink.

“Should probably get sunscreen on him again.”

Tommy snorts as he leans backwards, stretching out to grab the spray can. “And you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to be a dad.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie says as Buck, still asleep, makes a similar sound when Tommy mists him all over with cold sunscreen. “It’s been months, man, that’s so long for a kid, who knows what he’s even into now-”

“Minecraft, right?” Tommy says as he smooths his hand over a few places the sunscreen pooled on his boyfriend’s back. “Wasn’t he on a video call with you and Buck about it for like three hours on Friday? Something about- uh- command blocks?”

Eddie is mildly impressed Tommy remembers the word — maybe — because he certainly doesn’t. Buck had only been slightly better at following along than he had as they’d squinted at the probably impressive pixels on the laptop screen. “I don’t know, I just feel like…” Every morning, still, he wakes up and thinks he needs to get Chris’ breakfast started. Whole parts of his being are wired around taking care of his kid, but since he’s been gone Eddie has been trying — in fits and starts and most of the time guiltily — to figure out what the rest of him is for. It’s part of what got him into the whole mess in the first place, chasing after the dreams of a 19 year old who got those dreams from his parents. A nice wife (but they never liked her, did they) and a good job (but firefighting is too dangerous, isn’t it) and a picket fence (one closer to home, Eddie, you’ve gone too far away.) So he owed it to Chris, owed it to himself, to figure out what the fuck he actually wants, so he doesn’t keep twisting himself into knots and taking out everyone around him when the line breaks. He’s not sure he’s any closer to whatever that is — other than it’s unlikely to include a wife of any kind — but in the time he’s taken trying, what if other things got lost in the upheaval? “I keep thinking I’ll just- not remember to do something. Forget how field trip permissions slips work, or not know what shoe size he wears, or- I don’t know. Anything. I won’t pack his lunch and it won’t be the end of the world but he’ll be hungry that day.”

Tommy leans back on his palms and looks across at him, quiet and thoughtful for a few moments in that way he has, like he’s thinking through every possible response before he speaks. He is, maybe; he’d confessed to Eddie that he’d spoken too quickly when he was younger, is embarrassed about a lot of the dumb shit he’d said, so he tries to take his time with his words now. “Eddie. You took us up here this weekend to check and make sure this place is accessible to take your kid to this summer. And- I get that’s a big thing, a big gesture, and maybe you’re worried about messing up the small stuff, but… You’ve still got his favorite kind of jelly in the fridge that nobody else eats. You love him, and he knows that. You’re gonna do fine.” He shrugs. “And he’s almost fourteen, if you forget to hand him lunch he’s gonna let you know.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess he will.” He groans a little, shaking his head. “Fourteen years old, that’s fucking crazy. I don’t feel old enough for that to be true.”

Tommy rolls his neck so it audibly cracks. “Yeah, yeah, you whippersnapper.”

Eddie grins at him. “You feeling the exercise, old man? Need to go lay down?” He cackles and leans away as Tommy grabs the can and sprays a burst of sunscreen at him.

Between them Buck grunts at the commotion, and rolls towards Eddie. He presses his face into the meat of his bare side above his trunks, and wraps his long arms around his torso. Eddie glances up at Tommy, who just looks fondly amused. “Uh. Wrong guy, there, bud.”

Buck stills, and then pulls back a little to squint up at him. Eddie’s not particularly ticklish, but something like goosebump are shivering across the skin of his stomach where Buck’s forearm rests against him. He has to actively try not to shudder as Buck pulls back and rolls the other way, Eddie watching hypnotized as he gives Tommy the same treatment. Buck presses a little kiss onto Tommy’s hip, in the spot he had just been cuddled into on Eddie, and Eddie’s mouth goes dry.

Tommy lets out a little breath, and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll be able to use the sun as an excuse for how pink he’s gotten as his eyes snap up to the other man’s face. Except- he’d been expecting a raised eyebrow, a flat mouth, some visual indicator of disapproval, that this is one step Buckandeddie too far, that all the rest of their codependent lives have been fine, a platonic kind of care built over years of being there for each other through the worst of the worst, but now the uncomfortable answer to what Eddie wants, the uncomfortable answer he’s been trying to avoid because it's something he cannot have, has been found out and the messy insides of him will have once again ruined something good. But what he finds is a tiny little smile and heavy eyes that-

Well, they don’t look disapproving in the slightest.

“You guys hungry?” Buck mutters, words muffled by Tommy’s skin. “We should go start the grill.”

Tommy’s little smile gets wide and lazy, eyes still stuck on Eddie. “I could eat,” he says.

Tagging @iinryer @shitouttabuck @butchdiaz @chronicowboy @homerforsure @rewritetheending @bigfootsmom if you have anything you want to share!

[lunemai]

idk if you do smut but plsss i need a part two to “mornings with you”

•• -Mornings with you- ••

[Part two]

Demigod!Y/n x Luke Castellan

Summary - Having newly (kidnapped) wed sex with Luke.

Warnings - SMUT, they are older but both the same age, marriage, newly weds, missionary, cunnilingus, kissing, praise kink, soft(?) smut, AFAB!Reader, no one is actually kidnapped (sorry to disappoint my yandere people), Luke with a big ego and an even bigger dick, love, if there’s more please tell me so I can add them.

part one - part two

•••••••••••••••••••••★•••••••••••••••••••••

“Luke,” I say whispering his name as he continues to kiss his way down my neck, “yeah, baby?” he says with no intentions of stopping his trail of love,

instead, he starts taking steps backward leading us towards the living room couch.

“Maybe, -we should go to our room” I manage to say in between the kisses Luke is now pressing onto my lips.

“Hmm,” he hums now leaning his body over mine, maneuvering me into sitting on the couch.

still standing he looks down at me and caresses my lips with his thumb just to reach down and kiss me again with a softness so sweet I almost melt into the couch. his hand finding refuse on my jawline.

“Or maybe, you lay down,” he says while grabbing onto my hips to position me on my back flat and one of my legs dangles over the arm of the couch.

throwing his leg to place it next to my hip closest to the back of the couch,

he leans down and pulls me upwards by the neck to share yet another passionate kiss,

his tongue dances with mine as my hand starts slipping up his shirt and his unoccupied hand slips down my body and towards my shorts.

he hums into the kiss when his hand slips into my underwear, “all this for me?” he mutters as he looks down at where his hand is just to be able to see exactly what he’s doing to me.

lifting his pointer and middle finger he places them on my lips and I know just what to do,

opening my mouth I lick his two fingers once and wrap my lips around them to suck until he pulls away with a pop.

“Good job, baby” he finally lowers his hand to place his two fingers right where I need them,

“f*ck, always so wet for me aren’t you, baby?” he says curling his fingers, always reaching that one spot I’ve never been able to reach by myself

“hmm,” I hum no longer finding any words to say as the pleasure just builds and builds,

“Feels good doesn’t it, honey? you wanna come for your husband?” I moan at the mention of the new titles we now bear, husband and wife, he’s mine and I’m his.

his wife. my husband. always and forever.

I clench around his fingers as that familiar knot in my stomach tightens, “Yeah? Like it when I call myself your husband?” he says with a taunting yet slightly soft tone, he leans down to swallow my next moan in a kiss,

pulling away with a string of saliva my eyes close and he whispers against my lips, “I’ll, always be yours, baby, always” with just those few words and a simple touch of my clit with his thumb, I have my first orgasm of the day.

I open my eyes coming down from high as he pulls down my shorts along with my panties in one go

I place my hand on his back, expecting him to finally get inside me until I realize he’s not coming up, he’s going down.

he places kisses on my stomach, leading down to my most sensitive parts, “You don’t mind if I have a taste do you baby?” I curl my fingers around his hair as he licks my slit from the bottom to the top.

“You don’t have to answer, I know you don’t,” with that he places his tongue inside my hole and I moan as his nose rubs against my clit.

one thing about Luke, he’s determined, when he does something he has to do it right, and gosh has he always done this right.

my back arches off the couch as Luke slips his hand under my bra to grab at my boob, flicking and playing with the nipple as I come for the second time today.

he lifts his head from between my legs and my hand falls from where they were tangled in his hair and towards touching the closest parts of him I could reach, his back, his abs, his arms, anything I can get my hands on,

licking his lips covered in my juices he reaches down to rid himself of his pants along with his boxers, finally revealing his red and sticky tip, the one part of him I love more than his nose,

even before dating Luke I knew it would be big, call me crazy, but it’s drawn all over him, from the way he talks to the way he walks, to his huge ego and the way he acts in terms of confidence.

he leans down to kiss me and slips his hands behind me to unclasp my bra, lifting me to remove my shirt altogether.

once my shirt is thrown somewhere behind us, he wraps his mouth around my nipple in a suck as the hand farther away from his dick wraps around the other,

nudging my hips towards his I groan and arch my back, “Luke,” I moan, pulling at the hair on his nape to get his attention,

finally noticing my cries he raises his head and moves to fully cover my body with his, “I know baby, I know,”

not waiting for him to take the initiative I reach with the hand closest to him and wrap my hand around him to nudge him against my clit, and finally, pull him inside me.

we both moan in unison at the feeling of finally being connected, he starts to thrust, slowly and passionately he presses his forehead against mine and nudges my nose with his,

with my hand still at his nape, I pull him down fast to connect his lips with mine, biting at his lip, I want more.

sensing my urgency Luke increases the harshness of his thrust,

the sound of me and him fill the room, the smell of sex and the moans and groans coming from both of us might just top the sight of the ocean outside our door.

he lifts my knee with his unoccupied hand, pulling it all the way to my chest, the change in position makes my back arch and my eyes close.

“No,” Luke says his thrust even faster and harder now, he slips his hand to the back of my head pulling at my hair,

“Look at me,” forcing my eyes open I look into his eyes and spare a glance downwards.

“You see that? that’s all me,” he lowers the hand not grabbing onto my hair to press down at my lower stomach, f*ck he’s so big, I can see the imprint of him moving inside me.

holding eye contact, he stops the pressing of my stomach to slip between us and rub circles on my clit. holy sh*t I’m gonna come again.

“You gonna come, baby? go ahead, we can come together, just so you know who you belong to, yeah?” He says while adding more pressure and speed into the magic he’s doing on my clit, nodding and struggling to keep in my screams of pleasure I finally release, 

gosh I swear I’m seeing stars.

Luke. Luke. Luke.

he’s all I think, all I breathe. all I see.

“I’m right here with you,” he says, I feel his release as he gives his final thrust and melts into me, placing most of his body weight into the hand ripping at the edge of the couch.

smiling and grinning we look at each other, our eyes full of love and pleasure.

his pupils are big and full of emotions, his cheeks are rosy, and his curls frame his face,

yeah, I think this is a far better sight than the ocean out there.

notes: I have to admit, this is my first time writing smut but I reallyyyy hope you like it.

this one was just a bit longer than the first, making up 1,290 words.

REQUEST ARE VERY MUCH OBLIGED.

[heywardsdoll]

day 2 - 3.010.2024 — fics will be uploaded every 2 days ! <3

one thing that you liked to do was give pope lipstick kisses. there was something special to it. the way your lips would ache to smeark that line of red across his collar.

you liked it because of what it meant. it meant that he was yours. all yours in a way that you could never explain to anyone else. those kisses were feverish whenever you gave them to him, from excitement, or from happiness. sometimes even from jealousy.

but—and the first time you did it he chided you it. the first time was when you got your job.

excited in your pleated skirt as you ran up to him. he had that smile on his face, that cheeky smile that you knew too well. the sun beamed down at you, and a laugh escaped your mouth as you ran into his arms. it was a glorious moment, something tangible in your mouth. it was something golden, you could touch it but no one around you would ever know it. that's all you knew, with that ache in your stomach from laughing so hard.

"i got it! i got the job!" you cried out, and pope chuckled, and then you took his hat.

"i knew you could do it," then he grabs you by the waist before dragging you closer for a kiss, "you can do anything."

it was that breathless confession that caught you off guard. pope was not the one to ever lie to you, his wide eyes crinkling softly at the corner was all you needed to know he was telling the truth. it was then that you found yourself getting on your tippy toes to press your lipstick on his neck. your breath was sweet with the coffee you'd drank before, but you were feverish as you grabbed his collar to get him closer.

you left little pecks everywhere you moved. soft smudges of your favourite lipstick, and you bit down softly as you watched him close his eyes. you knew he had work, and you knew he'd punish you for this later, and you were making a mess. you could already feel it on your lips as you kissed soft skin and cloth.

finally from what felt like an eternity pope exhaled, a soft sigh that was caught in the middle of his throat as he tried to move you a little away from him, "not here, yeah? i know you—" he sounded pained, watching you pout in your cute way. your eyebrows were scrunched, and you shook your head.

you groaned, balling up your fists, "i really, really want to touch–" he blocked you again, holding your hands in his. with your hands entwined in his, you melted. he was so pretty like this. a stern look on his face, as your lipstick marks covered the entity of his face. so pretty, and all yours. instead, he let you touch his forehead, your fingers dancing to fix his hair, as you tried not to blink, all breathless.

"listen now, i'm sorry that i can't," he chuckled awkwardly before dragging a hand across his hair, and then fixed his backwards to look at you properly, "but we're going to celebrate tonight, alright? bringing out my fanciest wine and some cupcakes. we'll go—" but you didn't let him finish a sentence before jumping on him again. you squealed with excitement.

"i love you pope, i really, really love you more than anything—"

"this is all for cupcakes? so heartless," he teased.

"no," then you breathed out, tilting your head to look at him properly. pope licked his lips, before caressing your face gently. there was a calm look on his face before he ducked his head back into his hat. a soft smile on his face before he looked at you again. a bashful smile was etched on his face before he pursed his lips in that endearing way.

"i got it."

—

see, this was not the part where he got a bit grumpy about it. no, rather it was when he got home to your apartment. you'd been on the couch eating a bag of chips, while re-watching some of your favorite seasons of gilmore girls. you heard the door creak, and jumped up to see a disgruntled pope. quickly you looked to see him give you a proper look, and you bit your lip to stop yourself from giggling. then he pointed at the bedroom door. there was a scowl on his face, and you knew he meant business. he got you from a single nod, and you scampered into the room.

it was here when you looked at him properly. you rushed to fix his buttoned shirt, but he gave you a single shake of the head, before furiously unbuttoning the shirt.

at that he tossed it on the bed. you felt glum now, feeling your heart ache at the frown he gave you. it was a look of disappointment, one of, 'i know you can do better." pope was the best at those, with his deep brown eyes, and his expressive body langauge.

you continued to stare at him, fluttering your eyelashes. sometimes he got you off the hook if you looked at him with your best pout. he was always so affected by it, but this time he was frustrated.

"look at the shirt."

you quickly looked at the shirt. it was peppered with kisses, marks of dark lipstick. clearly it was your handiwork. you couldn't help but bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling. pope looked like a total grump with his folded arms and a sharp scowl.

"yea? what do you notice?"

you pouted, "i'm not sure."

pope groaned, then picked up the dejected shirt, "you're not sure? i think this came from you." at this you lowed your head, and let out a small whine. you could feel pope come closer to you, a soft presence. even mad, you knew he'd be gentle.

"it's my fault. i was really excited."

finally he shook his head, in that little disappointment way. it killed you when he did that. you never ever wanted to disappoint him. the thing about pope was that he never got really mad, no, instead he gave you those eyes that you felt so bad for. it was that look that had your heart in a chokehold.

pope sympathetically tilted his head, "c'mon we've talked about this. you can't just jump me and get hyper. you knew i had a job to go to afterwards. you gotta think a little. yeah?" you nodded quickly, and he put the dress-shirt down, "yeah..." pope muttered before looking at you again.

"you got anything to say?"

"i'm sorry," you mewled, feeling tears form in your eyes. your hands tremble, as you held yourself together. you could see the cupcakes in the corner of the counter, and you knew he'd been so nice to you.

it was here that pope finally sighed, softening once more, his lips in a firm line before pecking the top of your head, "yeah, i know you're sorry. of course you're sorry—you're my good girl."   

please ask to be tagged!

taglist; @cerya @rainbowpiss34, @vi4goswrld, @th3eternalersi

[astars-things]

good job jack!

maybe with jack being not the best she had been asking him to go skating (idk if she is old enough to play hockey yet.) maybe with jack working on being better jack asked what she wants to do and she says skating and they gave the cutest little skating date

Part 1 -> here

“Ready, kiddo?” I asked, holding out my hand.

Her face lit up like Christmas morning. “Ready!”

We’d spent the last week watching hockey highlights together, and every time she saw me skating, her little voice piped up: “I wanna do that, dada" She had seen me skate before but she was not really showing an interest in it until now

So here we were.

I’d borrowed the smallest pair of skates I could find, and they still looked comically big on her tiny feet. Her wobbly steps on the rubber mats had already been an adventure, and I had a feeling stepping onto the ice was going to be a whole new level.

“Okay,” I said, crouching down in front of her as she held onto me with a death grip. “First rule of skating: don’t let go of Dada.”

“Not ever?” she asked, her wide eyes locking with mine.

I smiled. “Not until you’re ready.”

She nodded, her face serious as she stepped onto the ice with me. Her legs wobbled immediately, and she squealed, clutching my hands tighter.

“I got you,” I said, steadying her. “You’re doing great already!”

“Am I skating, Daddy?” she asked, her voice breathless with excitement.

“Almost,” I said, grinning. “Let’s take it slow.”

We moved little by little, her tiny feet sliding clumsily while I held her hands firmly. Each time she wobbled, I was there to catch her. She giggled every time, her laughter echoing around the empty rink.

“Dada, look! I’m skating!” she declared proudly after we made it halfway down the ice.

“You sure are, sweetheart,” I said, my chest swelling with pride. “You’re a natural.”

We spent the next hour like that—laughing, slipping, and gliding. Y/N’s confidence grew with every lap. By the end, she was asking me to let go of one hand, then the other, until she was shuffling on her own, arms outstretched for balance.

“Look at me!” she squealed, her face glowing with triumph. “I’m doing it, Dada!”

“You’re amazing, Y/N!” I called, skating backward in front of her to make sure she didn’t fall.

She reached me, throwing her arms around my legs in a triumphant hug. “I’m a hockey player like you now!”

I laughed, scooping her up into my arms and spinning her around. “You’re even better,” I said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

Her giggles were the best sound I’d heard in weeks.

By the time we left the rink, Y/N was practically bouncing with energy despite her flushed cheeks and tired legs.

“Can we go again tomorrow, Dada?” she asked, her small hand tucked in mine as we walked to the car.

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation. “Anytime you want.”

As I buckled her into her car seat, she looked up at me with those big, adoring eyes. “I love skating with you, Dada.”

And just like that, my heart felt like it might burst.

“I love skating with you too, Princess,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “And I love you more than anything.”

“More than hockey?” she asked with a sly grin, knowing how much I loved the game.

I laughed, ruffling her hair. “Way more than hockey.”

[mysicklove]

𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇

Pairing: Sub! Vamp! Tanjiro x Dom! AFAB! Human! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: NSFW MDNI, Pegging, heavy mommy/mama kink, LOTS OF BLOOD, blood drunk?, biting, riding, hand job, petting

A/N: Happy Birthday @vampcubus!!! I wrote this specifically for you bc I know you love ur vampires <3. Also, want to thank your amazing gf @renhoeku for encouraging me to make u this fic for ur birthday! You two are adorable. (also halfway into writing this I realized u may like vamp! reader more....but too late lol)

To be honest, dating a vampire was easier than one could imagine. Sure, he may be ten times stronger than you, and could kill you in a millisecond, but this was Tanjiro we are talking about, he tears up when he accidentally kills a fly. He was by far the gentlest person you have ever met, and it made it incredibly easy to fall for him.

Before he met you and early on in your relationship, he used to starve himself. Feeding once a week from stolen blood donation bags. It always made him feel horrible, but it was better than feeding off of an innocent. But still, with every gulp of the old room-temperature blood, he wondered what it would be like to drink straight from the source. The thought always made him shiver in delight, and he would have to force his thoughts away from it or else something could go seriously wrong.

But the thoughts seem to never leave his mind when he met you. He disguised himself for about three months into your relationship with much struggle. The scent of your blood drove him mad with need and the trips to the hospital grew more frequent. It was so unbelievably hard to take back the blood bags with you around. His fangs would protract whenever he got too excited, or when a drop of your blood spills.

He wanted it so desperately, and as he began to fall in love with you the need seemed to grow more and more. The staring of your neck would increase, and sometimes he caught himself salivating while running his fingers on the skin above your veins. He just wanted a drop of your blood, that’s all he needs and he won’t complain anymore. Just one drop.

It wasn't very hard to find out about his little secret. Day one, you met him you knew he was hiding something big, but couldn't put your finger on it. Slowly you've been studying him. The way he reacts to sunlight, not afraid necessarily, but obviously wary of it. He also is supposedly horrified of blood, but that doesn't explain why his face turns red, and you swear he had eyed you so strangely when you got a paper cut. And if he was so afraid of blood, why was he at blood drives so often?

You had your suspicions of him being a vampire, but he confirmed it without the use of words.

You found out his secret when you woke in the middle of the night to find him grinding on your leg, while his fangs lightly grazed the skin on your neck. He was obviously still half asleep, his eyes cloudy and half lidded. He was whining into your skin, and it was obvious that he wanted to latch down on your neck, but he was holding back.

When he saw that you caught him, he snaps awake and he seems to throw himself backward and away from you. His eyes widen with fear and he covers his mouth in an instant. He stares, panicked, in silence.

You blink at him in the dark. This confirmed it. “I-I knew I was right. You're a vampire. You have to be.”

He lets out a startled noise when you flick on your bedside light. His hands haven't moved from his mouth, but his eyes seem to dart around trying to think of an explanation on his strangely sharp teeth. 

But the poor boy does not know how to lie. “Whatttt? No. Vampires? Th-Those aren't real!” The words are tight, and his body is stiff. 

You raise your eyebrows. “Let me see your mouth.”

His eyes widen, and he scoots backward on the bed. “Just give me a second!” 

“Now, Tanjiro.” You shoot him a glare, and he flinches. You sigh feeling slightly guilty from your tone. You were just a little shaken that your theory was possibly true. “I won’t be mad, upset, or scared. Just trust me. I just want to see them.”

He gulps and stares for a long second, clenching his fists on the sheets. He's nervous, it’s obvious. “Do you promise that you won't be scared?”

You smile at him, your eyes softening at his words. “It won't change anything, my love.”

He nods and slowly brings his hands down. A small gasp leaves your lips before you can stop it, and he slightly frowns. Hanging out of his mouth, and gently gnawing into his lower lip were needle sharp fangs. 

He was pouting at you, afraid of your reaction, and continues to accidentally peirce his lip out of nerves. Small amounts of his own blood were coating his lip. In all honesty, he looked adorable.

But he was unintentionally hurting himself. You rush over to him and his eyes widen, but before he could protest, you lightly pull on his bottom lip. “Let it go. You are hurting yourself.”

He blinks at you, confused, but obeys and relaxes his jaw. His fangs now hang slightly in front of the pink flesh. “It's okay. I will heal.”

You nod at him, knowing this from your previous studies. “You really are one. A vampire.”

He looks away. “Yes I am. I'm sorry for lying to you.”

“Its alright. But Tanjiro,” You coax, and he glances at you, the slight pout still there. “The fangs are so cute.”

His eyes widen, and his face heats up. You watch the way he tries to hold back a smile from the praise. “Don't joke about that! They are deadly. I almost killed you!”

You smirk at him, leaning in closer to invade his personal space. He reacts immediately, not daring to make eye contact with you. “You wouldn't hurt a fly. You just want some blood right? You are hungry?” You pull your shirt down to expose more of your neck.

His eyes noticeably light up, and he gulps. He continues to stare at the spot on your neck, and his mouth slightly hangs open. His undergarments also seem to tighten at the prospect. The thought turned him on to an embarrassing amount.

When you catch the tent in his pants you giggle, and he immediately snaps out of the trance. He looks away with a red face and grips at the sheets. “No. I can't do that to you. I can't hurt you. I can wait till tomorrow to eat.”

It’s your turn to pout, throwing out the big guns. “Please? For mommy? I want you to be comfortable baby.” 

He melts at the title and looks back at the strap on the nightstand. The two of you were only going at it three hours ago, it’s probably why he was so hungry. He lost so much energy from the multiple rounds. 

“B-But…”

You scoot forward and rub your hand on his thigh. He shivers and grabs onto your hand for comfort. “Shhh, it will be fine. Should I get the strap? Maybe that will ease your worries.”

He wordlessly grabs the toy, and harness from the table and hands it to you. You pet his head with a smile and begin to attach it. 

He removes his clothes and lays back on the pillows next to you, waiting for you to get ready. “I don't know if I will feed. I'm nervous I might hurt you.” 

The idea sounds so perfect to him, but he is smart enough to not risk something like this.

You nod and position yourself above him, moving your hips to find his. He was already prepped considering earlier events.

You kiss his cheek and his ears turn red. “It's okay baby. You do what you want, yeah? Just going to make you feel good.”

The boy nods and covers his eyes with the back of his hands. “Mmkay…Mommy.”

You line up the tip, and slowly begin to press it in. He keens and grips onto you, slightly turning away so he isnt face to face with your neck. He really couldn't handle not sinking his teeth in if he was right next to it.

When you bottom out he lets out a breathless moan, and slightly arches his back. You pause to wait for him to get adjusted, and litter his red face with kisses. “Such a good boy. Taking it all, hmm?

He is visibly affected by the praise, nodding his head helplessly and pushing his hips back to try to signal you to move. You smile at this and begin your thrusting. 

Today he seemed to slip into the subspace quicker than usual. You didn't mind, but it slightly confused you. Was it because the two of you already had previously fucked, or was it because he was hungry?

You secretly hoped it was the latter. The thought of how he would look with some blood in his system made u shiver in delight.

Not even ten minutes in, he begins his withering and clinging. “Doing so good for me. Does it feel good, baby?” You coo, while his fingers begin to leave scratch marks down your back.

“Mhm…Feels good, m-mommy. Harder please!” You chuckle at the plea and do as he says. His eyes roll back and his mouth hangs open, his fangs now completely exposed. He didn't seem to give a damn about retracting them. It must be a relief, he can completely get immersed in the experience without having to think about exposing himself to you. It further egged you on.

You lean your head forward and onto the pillow next to him. It was a tease, your neck exposed right in front of him, and both of you knew it. He has been trying to stay away from your neck, but you know he wants it desperately. The way he is literally salivating at the sight gives you more reason to spurr him on. He was too selfless. “N-No, cant!”

You pet his hair, “C’mon, I don’t mind. I know you want to, Tan.” 

He moans at the words, his hands desperately pulling you closer. “But–I don’t wanna hurt you!” He cries, and you lick a stripe up his own neck to try to distract him from the ridiculous thought. 

Drool is pooling at the corners of his lips, and his tongue roams over his fangs. He’s staring at your neck, eyes hazy with need.

“I know you won’t. Don’t feel bad, want you to eat. Please, for me?” He goes eerily quiet for the first time tonight, and you thought you took it too far. But a couple of seconds later, he whimpers with a small nod and shakily brings his lips up to your neck. He kisses and licks it at first, his mind going woozy at the smell of your blood. He looks at you one last time, and when you nod at him, he buries his teeth into your neck. 

You cringe and bite back a whine, and Tanjiro moans into your neck. The sound was muffled but loud, almost desperate sounding. He flips the two of you over in a heartbeat with inhumane strength, now grinding on the strap while ravaging your neck. The sounds he lets are strange, almost animalistic sounding. A mix of whines groans, and whimpers vibrate on your skin.

“H-Hey, let’s get into a better position, sweetheart,” You say, the slight euphoria making your head dizzy. When he doesn’t move, you grip his hair and try to pull him back. He doesn’t budge, but he whines out at the interruption.

“N-No! Please, ‘s good, so good, please please please, mommy!” He begs into your neck, lapping at the dripping blood like a starved dog. It was endearing to see him like this. He was usually pretty composed, you have never seen him look so desperate. It was like he was waiting for this moment.

“Shh, I know. You can have more, let’s just get comfortable,” You reason and he nods into your neck, before hesitantly pulling away. His face is covered in blood, and his eyes are cloudy and unfocused. He licks at his lips and over his fangs, and to distract himself from latching back on to you, he focuses down on the strap, gripping at your hips and riding it more desperately than you’ve seen before.

You are quick to move but he is louder, already whining for your neck again. You swiftly put pillows behind you, and position yourself against the headboard, in a seated position with him on your lap. You grab at his hips and use the other to guide his head back to your neck. “There we go. All better now. Not too much, okay pretty?”

“Mhmkay,” He mumbles, still hazy-eyed and whiny. He latches onto the same spot again, and your eyes screw shut. You instead focus on his hips, helping him grind on the strap. His feet plant on the bed, and he uses them to help give him leverage to begin his own rapid movement on the toy. 

You gently rub at his hair, petting him while he makes an abundance of adorable noises from both the force of the strap and the taste of you. “Wanted this so badly. Taste so good. Love it s-so much,” The vampire mumbles into your neck, kissing and suckling the skin around the source.

You smile, even if your vision slightly begins to blur from the loss of blood. Instead, you begin to focus on the way his thighs begin to tremble as he starts to bounce up on the toy.  You grin, and he wraps his hands around your shoulders and neck, helping his movements become more intense. The toy seems to disappear within him at every bounce. 

He's gotten to be a pro at riding. You remember how in the beginning he used to be so embarrassed, clinging onto you and waiting for you to thrust upward and into him. But now, he seems to be in his own world, lost in his pleasure completely to be embarrassed. The strange drunkenness from the blood certainly is helping him move quicker. 

He begins to chant, “More. More. More.” into your neck with each passing second. Almost as if he was afraid that the supply would stop soon. You feel the heat of his breath on your neck, and you shiver.

After a couple more minutes, he willingly pulls away for the first time tonight. He stares at you, tongue hanging out to lick at the blood coated skin beneath him. His eyes are hazy, and seem to have little thoughts behind them. “May I cum mommy?” 

You grab onto his untouched cock, and gently move your hands up and down the shaft. His head falls forward and onto your shoulder, where he tilts his head to stare at the bite marks. “So polite Tanjiro. Such a good boy for mommy, of course you can.”

His face heats up at the praise, and he shivers, but his eyes are locked on the fang marks on your neck. He wants more, but he can tell you are growing weak. It made him feel guilty how starved he seemed to be.

It wasn't his fault that your blood was better than anything he has had before. He has been dreaming about this moment for weeks now, and now that it was finally here in front of him, it was so hard to hold back. 

You were making him feel so good, you didn't deserve to be overworked. But oh so desperately does he want to cum with his fangs in his neck. It would be so much better, so much more intense, he just knows it.

His eyes haven't left the spot on your neck, and it's gotten so bad that he has begun to drool again. The saliva of course is tainted with blood, so it slides quickly down his chin and onto his lap, staining his thighs red.

You can feel his gaze on your neck, and the way he slightly twitches. His movements don't seem to slow, but it’s obvious that he is having a hard time trying to fight his impulses.  “You want more baby?” 

 His eyes screw shut and he shakes his head frantically, his bottom lip back in his mouth. “It’s okay! C-Can cum with–ahh–Out it!”

You grip at his hips, slightly smiling. “I know love, but you want to, right?”

Tears are now mixing with the drool and his head is spinning. He grips on to your hand like a lifeline, and continues to shake his head. “No. No. I don't–stop encouraging it mommy!”

He's looking out for you, but at the moment you don’t care. You want him to feel the best that he can so that he is more comfortable with feeding later. So, you ignore his request, and just like before you tug his hair forward.

His stained, wet lips come into contact with your neck and he moans at the scent. Your hands continue faster on his cock and he shivers. The drooling is getting worse, and he's beginning to make strange whimpering sounds as he tries to hold back. “Drink Tanjiro. I'm fine, really.” 

He can't help it anymore. The voice of the rational side of himself is getting quieter and quieter every second he smells the blood. And now with your words? He bites into the flesh again and groans at the feeling of the warm liquid that seeps into his mouth.

He's licking and sucking at the flesh desperately, and honestly, it was strange to see your usual boyfriend so…feral. But of course, it was still him. His words proved through and through that he wasn’t really gone. “Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. I'm cumming. I'm sorry mommy!”

You slightly frown at the apologies, but instead focus on his orgasm, thrusting slightly upward, causing his eyes to roll back and tears to continue cascading down his face. His body tightens and he grips your neck possessively. A broken cry is released, and you feel his fangs drag upon your skin, only to let out a silent scream. The white liquid coats the both of your stomachs, and you play with his hair to help coax him through the high.

When he begins to relax, he isn't desperately pawing at your neck, but instead gently licking it to get the remaining drops, and hopefully helping you heal. When he pulls away to rest on your lap, your vision slightly blurs. “How are you feeling Tan?”

He grabs at your palm and nuzzles his face in it, the bottom half of his face stained red, but you’ve never seen him look so content. He seems to melt into your touch, glowing because he was now fed and had his orgasm. “Sooo good. Thank you so much. It tasted–” His half-lidded, lost eyes, fly open and he drops your hand. “Wait. How are you doing? Oh no, I drank too much. We need to get you some food!”

You lean forward to kiss him on his cheek and he touches it with a slight blush. “I'm fine. Just dizzy, and tired. I’m sorry love, I don’t think I can clean you up.”

He shakes his head, and scrambles off your lap, shivering when he feels the strap slide out. When he stands up to grab a wet rag you take notice of his shaking legs. It made you feel slightly bad, he was probably exhausted, but you couldn’t do much. You were equally if not more exhausted than he was.

When he catches your gaze, he smiles knowingly and leans down, and presses a kiss to your lips. “It’s fine mama, I’m okay. Go rest. I will take care of everything.”

But your eyes shut before he could finish his statement.

The next morning, you awake to find yourself dressed in your usual sleep attire, a bandage on your neck, and Tanjiro nowhere to be found. You frown at this, knowing he was probably still sore and tired. 

But as on cue, he walks in with a plate of food. Meats, beans, and spinach. You raise your eyebrows at him. “They are rich with iron. Eating this will help you feel better from the loss of blood.”

The pounding of your head was gone, and you weren't dizzy at all. He was overreacting, worried over nothing, but that was who he is. But denying him would only make him worry more, so you take the plate and begin eating.

He sits next to you, kneeling while watching you eat. He looks determined to make sure you finish it. It was cute, really. “I'm sorry for last night. I went too far.”

You glance back at him. “It's okay. No, you didn't. Other than a small headache, I was completely fine.”

He lowers his eyes, and you see his cheeks begin to turn pink. “N-Next time I won’t–”

“Next time?”

He clutches at the sheets and peers over to you, his whole face now red. “Oh. We don't have to–It’s just it felt—It’s okay. Yeah, you're right–”

You throw a bean at him, and his nose scrunches. You laugh at him. “I'm teasing you. I don't mind having you feed off me. In a sexual or nonsexual way.”

His eyes seem to light up at the statement and he nods his head frantically, unconsciously leaning closer to you. “I would love that! I promise to be more composed next time and I definitely won’t drink as much!”

You fake pout at him. “Awh, but I thought your bloody and drool-covered face was quite cute.”

His face heats up, and he grabs onto your hand with a small whine of embarrassment. 

You see the tips of his fangs peek out of his lip, obviously too distracted by your teasing words to retract them. It made you grin, and wonder how you managed to find someone like him.

Because who knew a vampire could be this cute?