#zooming into the room to ask what he's making for dinner

[theloveinc]

bakugos daughter vibes

so true actually. even tho he only got her one to make her stop talking abt all the fun she had on the kirishima household board (or granma mitsuki and granpa masaru got her one after katsuki said he wouldn't LMFAO)

and it makes him so agitated bc she'll ride into his office on it and rumple the carpet, and zoom around his desk trying to talk him... and when he tries to say anything even REMOTELY mean about it, or to get off, she's calling him an "old, bitter fart" and then dipping dfanfs;djasdlk...

and i'm just imagining you're on your little family walk and there she is on her board going way too fast for both of you... truly gonna give him a stroke eventually LOOOL

[kitten4sannie]

kitten fever

pairing: cat hybrid husband! sannie x fem! reader

genre: hybrid au, smut

summary: after you put your baby to sleep and head to bed yourself, you come to the discovery that your dear husband just hit his rut and desperately wants to put another baby in you.

w.c: 2.6k

warnings: needy pussydrunk maniac! san, service sub! reader, they’re giving switch energy as well <3, san gets lost in subspace, big cawk sannie, only pet names/praise (baby, mama/mommy (only a few times trust), sweetheart, princess), san likes to be called kitty, san humps reader’s pillow out of desperation, kissing, wet and messy, possessiveness, grinding, nipple play (f/m receiving), lactation kink (muahahahaha), face sitting that turns into a 69, oral (f/m receiving), good ol fashioned unprotected missionary, heavy breeding kink, bulge kink, knotting, creampie, just so, so much cum……

a/n: i did a poll a lil while back to ask what vibe everyone wanted for sannie’s bday fic and soft, sweet love making with husband sannie won by a landslide ~~ but ofc i had to add my lil spin to it and made him a hybrid husband in heat hehe <33 i wrote this all in one go just rn bc i’m a ✨chronic procrastinator✨ so i had less time to perfect it but i hope it’s just as enjoyable as my other fics 🥹🫶🏼 that being said, enjoy lovelies~

song rec: same dream, same mind, same night by svt (this is a love making song and you cannot convince me otherwise 🙂‍↕️) - sex on fire by kings of leon - terrible love by boston manor (“tell me i’m everything you want~ tell me you need me~ give it everything you’ve got, so give it all~” <33)

“Hush, little baby, don’t you cry, mama’s gonna sing you a lullaby,” you cooed gently in a sing-song voice to the sweet angel laying still inside her crib, continuing your soft serenade until her eyes closed, surrendering to another night of much needed rest after a long day of adventure and learning, her tiny fingers slowly releasing the grip they had on one of yours, her tiny fluffy tail uncurling from your wrist. When you saw that your babygirl had fallen asleep, you gave her a loving kiss on the forehead, before exiting the bedroom and heading to your own.

It had taken a fair amount of time to get your baby to go to sleep, making you wonder if your husband had fallen asleep himself while he was waiting for you to come back. He must’ve been tired, especially after how worked up he was during the day, zooming around the house to get chores done despite there not being a rush, not even giving you the opportunity to make dinner either when he put his signature ‘kiss the cat’ apron on, and somehow still having the energy to run a few miles on his treadmill afterwards, claiming he still had the zoomies.

As soon as you cracked open the door, you could hear whimpering and soft, breathy panting coming from deeper inside the low lit room, a few candles burning away on your respective nightstands. Poor, sweet Sannie was probably having a nightmare of some sort. You would have to wake him.

“Baby, nnngh, need you, need you so bad, wanna be inside you, need to give you more kitties,” San voiced desperately to no one, hunched over and driving his heavy, leaking cock back and forth across the plush, pre-cum stained pillow that was kept on your side of the bed, his sweaty raven bangs sticking to his forehead, his tufted ears splayed out in opposite directions. He lowered his head further to take in your warm, flowery scent, letting out an instinctive growl and bucking his hips forward until he began to emit little breathy ‘ah, ah, ah’s’. He slowly dragged his throbbing cock along the feathered pillow, leaving thick, milky cum shots onto the previously pristine material. “Cummingggg, filling you up so deep, mama, it won’t stop….”

Well, it seems like you wouldn’t have to wake him. Your husband was already wide awake and seemingly trying to impregnate your pillow. You entered the room and closed the door behind you, causing San to look up at you with big boba eyes, his ears now on high alert, sheepishness overtaking his blushing features and a gentle, understanding one forming on yours. “Oh, my sweet Sannie, is this why you were so active today? Are you in a rut?”

San tried to cover up the evidence he left all over your pillow, his long fluffy tail curling shyly around one of his bare legs, his stained briefs riding up a bit near his inner thighs. “I-i didn’t wanna tell you because it’s hard for me to control myself when I’m like this…I can only think of one thing…”

You took a few steps forward until you were standing at the foot of the bed, hovering over San, your hands already making their way to his overheated face to caress it. “And what is that, kitty?”

San just about melted into your touch, his hot breath fanning over your skin when he sighed, gazing up at you past his fluttering lashes. “Breeding my beautiful wife…” he whispered softly, turning his head to press a lingering kiss into the palm of your hand. “I want to make love to you….feel and taste every single inch of you…remind you why you’re mine…” He whimpered, closing his eyes for a second, before they returned to you, his eyebrows upturned with desperation, his glistening lips parted ever so slightly. “I’m burning up just thinking about it…”

You leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto his forehead, then his cheek, leaving one on his trembling lips afterwards. “Then, what are you waiting for, Sannie? Let’s play.”

-

“Baby, your pretty kitty, mmmnn, feels so good,” San panted, breaking the heated, messy kiss you were sharing to moan from the way you were eagerly grinding yourself on his lap, his hardened cock pressing up directly into your slippery, hot cunt, a bit of drool escaping his lips, only for you to lap it up from his chin, before your tongue repeatedly swirled around his. “Wanna knot you…”

“Not yet, Sannie….wanna have more fun with you first…” When San began to whimper and squirm around, you reached past his head to grab onto the headboard with both hands, pressing your forehead to his to keep him locked in on you. “You wanna feel me all over, yeah?” You moved your hips in a more precise motion, the pronounced edge of his cockhead catching onto your clit each time your cunt dragged up and down his length, making the both of you let out a collective moan. You lifted up your body a bit so that your heavy tits were bouncing ever so slightly in his face, watching as your husband fell into a trance. “Wanna taste me too, don’t you, baby?”

“Yes, mama, wan’ it all,” San nodded drunkenly, repeatedly licking at his lips and fangs, bringing his hands up to your tits to feel the weight of them, squeezing into them slightly, his tail quickly slamming against the side of the bed as though he were a dog. He knew they were filled with milk, and it drove him absolutely nuts.

How adorable. Your kitten was too predictable. You pressed your tits together, holding them near his pretty blushing face. “Does kitty need milk?”

“Yes, please!” San opened his mouth up just in time for you to press your chest into his face, his lips closing around one of your nipples, licking and sucking at it until he began to taste the sweet essence of your milk. Deep purrs reverberated from his chest and throat, clearly content, letting go of one tit to focus on the other, pinching your nipple to watch as your milk spurted out of it and landed on his small pink tongue.

“Nnngh, that’s good, baby…” Humming, you ran your fingers through your husband’s soft hair as he gently coaxed more of the milkiness out of your tits one by one, eventually reaching down to rub your thumbs over his nipples, rolling them in circles until he began to let out muffled moans and whimpers. “Sannie’s so sensitive, hm? Even more sensitive now that he’s in a rut…so desperate for Mommy’s kitty.”

San gulped your sweetness down, a few drops dribbling down his chest, before he gasped at the sensation of you pinching his sensitive buds. “Y-yes, Sannie wants to be inside mama so bad….” He nibbled on one of your puffy nipples, dragging his rough tongue over it just to hear you whine, looking up at you to take in your suddenly submissive gaze. “My pretty girl’s sensitive too, I take it.”

“Always, because of that tongue of yours…” you murmured, digging your nails into the headboard when he forcefully pushed your tits together and ran his tongue back and forth over your nipples, biting them with his fangs for good measure.

“S-sannie…!”

When San felt a fresh wave of slick leak out onto his lap, his eyes started to narrow into slits, his instinctive urge to dominate you beginning to slip past the surface of his hazy mind. “So wet for me, aren’t you, sweetheart? It’s all going to waste too….Such a shame…”

“Wanna lick it up, kitty?” you asked sweetly, bringing your lips down to his, tasting the sweetness of your milk on his moving tongue.

“Mm. Sit on my face, princess,” he commanded in a slightly deeper tone, waiting for you to climb off of him so that he could lower himself down onto the bed. Just as you faced away from him and lifted your leg up to go over him, San grabbed you by your soft hips and pulled you down onto his face, immediately getting to work.

San dipped his tongue between your slick lips and dragged it up, painfully slow at first, so that he could savor your warm taste, licking a long stripe toward and then over your clit. He repeated this action until all that could be heard in the room was his wet tongue coming in contact with your soaking cunt, along with the groans he was letting out with each lick. Opening his eyes to admire your pretty plush pussy, he pressed a kiss onto your bud, before sucking on it with varying degrees of intensity, reveling in the way his pretty wife moaned desperately for more. “That’s it, huh, babygirl? Your pussy’s getting so messy, you must be getting close already….”

“F-fuck, yes, I’m close…don’t stop, Sannie,” you sighed out, suddenly distracted by the sight of your husband’s throbbing cock standing at full attention between his thighs. Licking at your lips, you carefully lowered yourself down until you could slurp and suck the pre-cum that pooled out of his reddened cockhead with ease, opening your mouth wide enough to take most of his cock down your throat inch by inch.

“Oh my god, baby, I won’t last if you do that….” San tossed his head back for a second, temporarily losing himself to the pleasure of having his cock buried inside the hot, wet heaven of your mouth and throat, moaning hoarsely all the while. Feeling more of your slick drip onto his heated skin, he remembered about his current mission. Once his tongue returned to your dripping slit, you started to rock your hips in time with San’s lips, your clit even bumping against your husband’s nose, your thighs beginning to tremble.

You took San’s cock down your throat as deep as it would go, using your spilling saliva to jerk off the rest of his length that you couldn’t reach with your mouth, hearing him begin to emit muffled whimpers and curses against your pulsing cunt, feeling his thighs tighten up underneath your touch.

You continued to move in sync, your hips now desperately rocking against San’s splayed out tongue, your moans playing a hypnotic rhythm. You always seemed to fall into this matching pattern of giving and receiving, losing yourselves in each other’s love and pleasure. Just as you began to squirm around, San’s hands slipped from your thighs where they were previously squeezing to your waist, wrapping them tightly around your middle to keep you still as your release poured out onto his tongue.

“Sannieeee, so good, so good, gonna cum,” you whined out once you pulled yourself off of his cock, your lips connected to the sticky tip with a few strands of milky saliva.

“Me too, baby, me too. Fuck, take it for me, okay? Be good and take it all,” San moaned against your convulsing cunt, lapping up the rest of your arousal, just as he began to shudder, forcefully tossing his head back into his pillow.

You caught the seemingly endless stream of cum on your tongue, some of it shooting into the back of your throat. You swallowed it all without hesitation, before climbing off of him and leaning down to press your lips onto his.

He eagerly kissed you back, gently lowering you down onto the mattress so that he could climb on top of you, the both of you desperately exchanging your warm arousal with one another, only breaking the dizzying kiss when neither of you could take a proper breath. “I love you, Y/N…” he whispered near your cheek.

“I love you too, San…”

Gazing deeply into your half-lidded eyes, San gently lowered his body weight onto you, not having to ask to know what you both needed when he positioned himself near your entrance and slipped right in, the both of you moaning in unison.

“Ready for my litter, baby? I’m gonna fill you up over and over, okay? I won’t stop until you tell me to…” Saliva pooled in San’s mouth as a low, deep purr rumbled inside his chest. Part human or not, your husband’s cat-like traits still made themselves present when he was sheathed inside you like this, especially now that he was in a rut.

“Yes, give it all to me, Sannie, I want your kitties,” you begged breathlessly, hardly able to think now that you were getting stretched out by your husband’s thick length, your legs hooking around his small waist once he began to recklessly drill himself into you.

“I’ll give it all to you, baby, have it all, have all of me.” Huffing and puffing, San pounded his cock into you, slipping out a few times due to how incredibly wet you were, taking the time to slap his cock down onto your abdomen, just to show the both of you how his length just about reached your ribs, watching you swallow hard, your hazy, tear filled eyes sparkling with anticipation.

“I can take it, Sannie. I can, I promise,” you reminded him gently, just as he slipped back inside you, pounding your pussy as if he had never stopped.

“Yes, you can, you’re gonna take it all, because you’re mine, mine, mine,” San groaned out near your ear like a mantra, his heavy body flush against yours, your legs hanging off of his broad shoulders, slamming his cock into you like you were just a toy, your cunt taking it like you were made specifically for him, his tail wrapped tightly around one of your ankles, almost acting as an anchor to keep the both of you from slipping out of reality.

“Yours, yours, yours…” you chanted back, your nails starting to dig and rake down his back, starting to fade away once your high rapidly took over. “Sannieeee, give me your knot, please…”

Almost as if on command, San’s knot began to form inside your cunt, stretching you out to the max. He pulled back slightly so that he could press his hands into your abdomen, feeling just how thick and heavy his cock was inside of you. “That’s my good girl…Look at you….my pretty little wife, taking all of my knot like this. It’s gonna break and your womb’s gonna be flooded with my cum, you know…You wanna get knocked up again for me, baby?”

“Mm-hmm!”

He nosed at your neck, taking in your pretty scent, whispering, “Help me breed you, baby.”

“Breed me, kitty….Make me yours forever…” You clutched your hands into his waist and pulled his hips taut to yours, your cunt clenching around his cock just as San melted into you, whispering countless promises of love, mixed with involuntary curses into your ear, the dam finally breaking.

A short, broken cry tore out of your throat as you squirted onto San’s twitching cock, endless waves of hot cum pouring out past your cervix and filling your womb up with his potent seed, rendering you vulnerable to the very real possibility of impregnation by your dear hybrid husband. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Purring, San pulled you into his arms and began to lick at the tears that had stained your flushed cheeks, grooming you in his own special way. He nuzzled into you, his tail coiling protectively around one of your wrists, his lips ghosting along your jaw, one of his twitching ears tickling your own. “We’ll have to paint our baby girl’s room half blue if we end up having a boy.”

You giggled, nuzzling into your husband’s loving touch. “Bold of you to assume we won’t have another girl.”

San smiled at you, his brown eyes sparkling with love and adoration for you. “That’s fine. I’m a girl dad, after all.”

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[spectorgram]

eyes wide open

pairing: theodore nott x f! reader summary: you discover that there is so much more to theodore nott than you thought.  content: gryffindor! reader, semi-nsfw (characters are 18+) word count: 5.46k

You have never spoken to Theodore Nott before. You’ve him around a lot, usually with Mattheo Riddle or Lorenzo Berkshire, and he is a regular on the quidditch team — a chaser — so you’d see him zoom by during matches. He’s also in a majority of your classes for this year, which lets you observe him from afar. But past that, you’ve never really had much to do with him beyond seeing him with Malfoy and witnessing how he stands quietly — with either a small smirk or a look of complete apathy on his face — while Malfoy and your friends argue back and forth. 

Having class with Theodore Nott has let you learn three things about him: he’s quiet, whip-sharp, and unbelievably handsome. You didn’t need classes with him to know the last one is a well-known fact; he’s constantly noted as one of the most attractive of your classmates. “Shame he’s a Slytherin,” Lavender Brown once said to you, which had made you roll your eyes and retort, “And what’s wrong with that?” It had gotten you into a big fight and you don’t think she’s spoken to you since, not that you’ve really wanted her to. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Ron asks you as he, Hermione, Harry, and Ginny stand at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. “Mum would love to have you. She’s always banging on about what a lovely girl you are and how polite you were.”

“And I’m sure Fred would love to see you,” Ginny adds. 

You snort, “I’m really sure. But please give my regards to your mother and Fred.”

“Will do,” Ginny says with a two-finger salute. 

Your friends say their farewells as they leave through the portrait hall. You flop against the plush velvet of the couch, staring at the roaring fire. Your parents were on a months-long that brought them to see famous wizarding landmarks so you’re stuck at Hogwarts for the holiday. You’re a little disappointed that you won’t be with your family but another part of you is excited to be in the castle when it’s less populated. You’ll finally get to make your way through the massive pile of books you have at your bedside since you’re usually caught up in listening to and gossiping with your roommates. 

You head up to your room, empty except for you and your owl hooting in his cage. You wiggle your fingers inside, Ramses rubbing his feathery head against them. You grab the first book from the top of your pile, turning the leather-bound edition over in your hand. Hermione gifted it to you for your last birthday: William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. You shimmy into your gold and red striped sweater and tuck the book underneath your arm, walking down to the dining hall for dinner. 

Students are scattered around the Great Hall, some chattering with their friends while others eat silently. The ceiling has shifted to depict a clear night sky, floating candles casting an orange glow. You spot Mattheo Riddle alone at the Slytherin tables but the way he keeps looking to the door makes you assume he’s waiting for a friend. You settle down on a bench all to yourself, piling your plate with the mouthwatering selections available to you. 

You rest your chin on your fist, cracking open the play. You get only a few pages in when you hear a familiar low voice. “All alone, little lion?” His eyes examine you and you suddenly feel too exposed despite your layers. 

You come face-to-face with Theodore Nott and his sea blue eyes. He regards you coolly and you ask, “Can I help you, Nott?”

He points at your copy of Romeo and Juliet. “Where’d you get that?”

You furrow your brow in confusion. Why in Godric’s name is Theodore Nott of all people interested in a Muggle book. You respond, “Hermione gave it to me. Why?”

“It’s hard to find Muggle books here,” he says. His eyes linger on the play. “Think I could borrow it when you’re finished?”

Your brain stalls, questions floating around your head. “Sure,” you finally answer. He nods and neither of you say anything more. The quiet that falls between you two makes you tense and you say, “Is that all, Nott?”

He considers and then says, “I think so.” He heads to the Slytherin tables without another word, sitting beside Mattheo, who’s been watching on keenly. You catch his stare and he smirks, raising a hand in a casual wave. Theodore smacks his shoulder and pulls Mattheo���s hand down. 

You sigh, shake your head in disbelief, and go back to reading the play.

It’s been a few days since your encounter with Theodore, but the interaction sticks with you. Every time you open up the play, you’re reminded of it and your curiosity returns tenfold. 

It’s odd being at school when it’s this empty. You’ve managed to occupy yourself by playing Wizard’s Chess with some fifth years, helping Professor Flitwick organize his classroom and the Frog Choir’s practice room, and working on knitting gifts to give you friends when they return. 

You’re sitting in the Gryffindor common room, working on Harry’s scarf, when you spill a cup of tea one of the house elves had made for you. Cursing, you move your knitting out of the way and survey the damage to your sweatshirt. With a groan, you gather your things and bring them to your dorm, blotting out the growing stain with water and letting it dry over the edge of the bathtub. 

You slip into a forest green sweater and throw a brown corduroy jacket over it. You grab your copy of Romeo and Juliet and head down to the Black Lake. The cold breezes nip at your cheek and carries the scent of pine trees, which you inhale gratefully. You plop yourself underneath a tree on the shore of the lake, reclining against the trunk and cracking open the book.  

You’re not even a page in when you hear a familiar voice call your name. Your hold on your book tightens but you peer up, watching Theodore approach. He’s in a dark wool overcoat and similarly dark trousers, hands tucked into his coat pockets. His strides are leisurely and long, reaching you in only a handful of steps. 

He stands tall in front of you, shadow cast long in the afternoon sun. His gaze roams over you and he says, “Isn’t wearing green considered treacherous for you?”

You’re confused for a second before you follow his line of sight and glance down at your own sweater. Right. You reply, “No more than it would be for you to wear red.”

The corner of his lip twitches up in a small, half-smile and he says, “High treason then.”

You echo your words from earlier in the week: “Can I help you, Nott?”

He ignores your question, instead choosing to tip his chin at your book. “What part are you at?”

“Mercutio’s died in his duel with Tybalt.”

He nods and recites, “‘A plague o’ both your houses. They have made worms’ meat of me: I have it, and soundly too: your houses.’”

You don’t bother to hide your surprise. “You’ve read it?”

“Haven’t most people?”

“Sure, most people know the story but they don’t usually read it. 

“I’ve read it a couple of times,” he admits. He adds, “My mother’s favorite book.”

“I see. Is that why you want to borrow it from me?”

“Yeah.”

Silence falls between the pair of you. Distantly, there’s a cry of crows. Theodore is still standing above you, gazing down, and you squirm a little. He then says, “I always liked Benvolio.”

You’re reminded that Theodore’s half-Italian in the way he says ‘Benvolio,’ accent smooth and lilting. It suddenly feels a little too warm under your coat but you ignore it. You instead blurt out, “Of course you would. You’re kind of like him.” 

Theodore raises one eyebrow and you feel your face heat even more, embarrassed, and you hope he doesn’t take it as a bad thing. He doesn’t seem offended though and asks, “Oh, how so?”

“I mean,” you say, “you are— well, you seem like the most reasonable of your friends. A mediator of some sort.” 

“That sounds about right,” he says. “You remind me of Juliet.”

“Really? Why’s that?” You’re not sure if you should take it as a good thing or not.

“Well, she has a solid set of beliefs and stands up for them. She knows herself; she tells her parents that she doesn’t want to marry Paris, not just because she’s in love with Romeo but also because she knows she’ll be unhappy. What is it she says? ‘Now, by Saint Peter’s Church, and Peter too, he shall not make me there a joyful bride! I wonder at this haste, that I must wed ere he that should be husband comes to woo.’”

Theodore’s mouth lifts in a tiny, lopsided smile again and he says, “Plus, she’s the one most of the guys fawn over, right?”

You’re left to gape at him in shock and awe, processing what he just said as he turns and walks back to the castle along the shore, just outside the gentle lapping of the water. You watch his retreating figure, watch as he grows smaller and smaller and eventually disappears. 

You don’t get much reading done, the book remaining open in your lap and your eyes fixed on the spot where Theodore once stood.

You sit there until the top curve of the sun is just peeking out over the horizon and you stand, still a tad dazed, and make your long walk back to Hogwarts. 

It’s just past one in the morning and you can’t sleep, tossing and turning fitfully. Theodore Nott and his long shadow and his blue eyes keep appearing behind your eyelids, no matter how much you try to shove the thoughts out. You want to bang your head on one of the wooden poles holding up the canopy of your four-poster bed, but you opt for sliding on your slippers and going down to the kitchens to see if the house elves have any leftover brownies from dinner. Maybe they could warm up a mug of hot cocoa for you too.

You shuffle through the hallway, the chill of the castle waking you up. You rub your hands along your arms, wishing you had worn something over your pajamas. Since it’s break, restrictions about when and where students could go are essentially non-existent. You pass Filch, who scowls at you, clearly aggrieved that he can’t punish you for being out of bed, and Nearly-Headless Nick, who greets you cheerfully and questions you as to why you’re up at such a time. “Can’t sleep,” you explain. “I’m checking if the elves have any midnight snacks for me.”

He chuckles, “An excellent reason but don’t stay up too late, or you’ll wind up like me!” He laughs hard at his joke and you can’t help but giggle, bidding him a goodnight as you descend into the basement. 

You nearly run right into Theodore as you approach the kitchens. You jump at least a foot, clasping your hands over your chest. “Merlin’s beard, you scared me!”

“Could say the same for you,” he says. “Nice pajamas.”

You forgot you were in a tank top and shorts. You cross your arms and say, “You seem awfully fixated on my clothes, Nott.” You try to look as threatening as you can but the slight tremble to your body takes away any effect.

Theodore rolls his eyes and slides the robe he donned over his striped pajamas off, holding it out to you. When you don’t take it, he just throws it over your shoulders, the weight comfortable and warm. You say, “You keep popping up out of nowhere. Are you stalking me or something?”

He snorts, “You would never know if I was. But no, Mattheo’s snoring kept me up. I figured I should take advantage of my insomnia and grab some brownies from dessert.”

“Great minds think alike then,” you say. 

You and Theodore walk down the corridor towards the kitchen when he asks, “Have you finished the book?”

“No, didn’t get a lot of reading done after you left.”

“Did I distract you that much?” He looks smug, smirking, and it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“In your dreams.”

“Yeah,” he says. “When do you think you’ll finish?”

“Bloody hell, you’re impatient,” you groan, rubbing your temples. You’re not sure what possesses you, if it’s your sleep-deprived brain or something else but you suggest, “How about this? You grab brownies and cocoa for us and I’ll get the damn book and we’ll meet in the Clock Tower and read it together.”

Theodore considers it for a moment before he says, “Alright. I’ll meet you there in fifteen.”

“Perfect.” You scurry back to the Gryffindor dorms. Nearly-Headless Nick queries as to where your snacks are but you don’t answer, moving swiftly. You enter your dorm room, only pausing for a moment to catch your breath. Your heart is pounding but you can’t tell if it’s from the journey or from the thought of sitting alone in the Clock Tower with Theodore Nott. You don’t let yourself dwell on it and you pick up Romeo and Juliet and climb the stairs to the Clock Tower. 

Theodore has beaten you there, already sitting up against the glass of the clock. The frost on the glass obstructs some of the moonbeams streaming in but it’s just enough light to read. In the moonlight, Theodore’s hair looks lighter and more burnt golden than brown. He takes a sip of his cocoa and holds out a ceramic mug to you as you settle next to him. You accept it gratefully, plucking a brownie from the plate between you two. 

You flip through the play to find where you left off, the page dog-earred. Theodore makes a sound at the back of his throat. “What?”

“Don’t you have a bookmark or something?”

“No. Leave my marking choices out of it.”

He snickers and leans over you to get a better look at the text. Your shoulders brush and you’re all too aware that he smells of chocolate and sandalwood. His smell is clean and distinct; his robe smells like that too. 

As you two begin to read, Theodore tells you to turn back or move forward. You eventually figure out a rhythm, knowing exactly when to do so. You’re about ten minutes into reading when you feel Theodore’s gaze on you. You remain still, wondering if he’ll stop but when he doesn’t you mumble, “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Staring.” “Does it bother you?”

“It feels like you can see into my soul.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Does it bother you?”

You pause. “I don’t… I don’t know.” A beat. “Why are you?”

“Why am I what?”

“Staring at me.”

His voice drops, somehow deeper than you have ever heard it. “Because I like to.”

Your head whips to him but no words leave your mouth. He regards you carefully and asks again, “Does that bother you?”

You hesitate. Then, “No, it doesn’t.”

He hums and you think he’ll do… something but he just ducks his head back down to read and you let out of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, disappointment pooling in your stomach. You don’t know what you wanted him to do. You don’t know why you’re disappointed. 

You two read until your eyes grow heavy. You struggle to keep your lids open, head jolting up when you realize you’re drifting off. Theodore taps your shoulder and says, “We can stop here. Pick up another time.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, standing and stretching. You stifle a yawn and remember you have his robe on. You begin to take it off but he says, “Keep it. You can give it back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. Same time, same place?”

“Okay.”

It doesn’t take you long to finish the play with Theodore only two days later. You noticed that Theodore read slower than before, telling you multiple times per session to go back a couple of pages. 

Your eyes follow the last line: For never was a story of more woe / Than this of Juliet and her Romeo, and you close the book with a dull thump. You sit in silence with Theodore, listening to the clock hand turn to the next minute. You stay like that for a while. You sip on the spiced hot chocolate the house elves prepared for you. You share sugar cookies with Theodore that are shaped like snowflakes. 

“So,” you start, breaking the silence, “this is your mother’s favorite book?”

He nods. “I think she read it a lot when her parents arranged for her to marry my father.”

“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, adding lamely, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Silence. 

“Can I ask you something?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you stay here over break?”

He stiffens, expression unreadable. He glances over at you and finally sighs. “My father’s trial is happening right around now. My family doesn’t want any of the kids around this so…” He motions to the Clock Tower, adding, “My siblings are either at their own schools or with my grandmother.”

Your heart aches at the frown on his face and you bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to proceed. You’re thankful when Theodore moves on. “What about you?”

“Oh, my parents are on a sight-seeing cruise so they’re not home. I got a postcard today, though, they’re in Japan now.”

“I’ve never been. How’s it look?”

“Pretty. They said their tour guide told them the best time to come is when the cherry blossoms bloom. I would like to go.”

“We’ll go together then.” 

He says it with a finality that makes you shy. “When?” is all you can ask. 

“Someday.”

You haven’t seen Theodore in a couple of days, an odd thing to try and get used to when you’ve just adjusted to him popping up wherever you are. You assume that he’s done with you now that you finished Romeo and Juliet. 

It all makes your heart sink.

You’re alone in the common room, wrapping up your gifts for your friends. You stack Harry’s scarf on top of Hermione’s mittens, Ron’s socks, and Ginny’s hat, and you lean against the couch with a huff. 

You think about the spare red yarn sitting in your room. You think there’s just enough to make another scarf. 

Theodore’s face flashes in your mind’s eye and you run a hand down your face in frustration. Whatever weird thing you had with Theodore is over. He’s probably out with Mattheo at the Three Broomsticks or something. You’ve seen them there before along with Enzo, Blaise, Draco, and Pansy as well as just with each other, usually flirting with girls there.

You didn’t used to think much of it — just scoffed along with Ron and Hermione — but now the thought makes your stomach churn. 

You think about the extra yarn in your room again and you almost can’t believe that, despite his disappearing act, you’ve decided you’ll knit a scarf for Theodore Nott.

Almost.

You’re greeted with a delicious Sunday roast for dinner on Christmas Eve: tender roasted beef, warm Yorkshire puddings, fluffy mashed potatoes, and a side of jus from the beef. You sit by yourself once again, the loneliness threatening to swallow you whole as you plate your dinner. 

Theodore seats himself right across from you and places a parcel wrapped in brown paper in front of you. You look at it in confusion and he says, “Open it.”

“What is it?”

“Christmas present.”

You raise a brow. “You got me a present?”

“Yes, now open it.”

“Shouldn’t I wait until tom—” The sharp look he gives you makes you set your fork aside and tug on the string of the bow. There are two books inside. The first is a copy of Shakespeare’s Macbeth, similarly leather-bound like Romeo and Juliet, and the second one is an ornately-decorated collector’s edition of Romeo and Juliet. 

Your jaw falls open and you whisper, “Theodore…”

He says, “Figured that we can read Macbeth together. It’s a personal favorite of mine.”

Your fingers trace the golden embossment of Romeo and Juliet, swooping down to follow the curve of the ‘J.’ “Where did you even get this?”

“Sent a lot of letters and had Mattheo help me pull strings at Flourish and Blotts.”

Your face is on fire but you grin at Theodore and say, “Thank you so much.”

“Happy Christmas,” he says and you catch the pink at the tips of his ears.

“I actually have something for you too,” you say and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “I’ll get it to you after dinner.”

“I’ll come with,” he says and you nod. You wonder if he’ll get up but he stays put, taking a plate and serving himself dinner. 

You two talk quietly in between bites and something dawns on you halfway through. “Where’s Mattheo?” You look over your shoulder and can’t find the other Slytherin boy.

Theodore smirks. “Might’ve slipped him a couple of galleons to leave us alone.” Your cheeks heat pleasantly. 

You two finish dinner after that and Theodore walks you to the Fat Lady’s portrait. She eyes him suspiciously, glaring at you. “You know students from other Houses aren’t permitted in the Gryffindor dorm.”

You disregard her and give her the password. Begrudgingly and with one last glower at you and Theodore, the portrait swings open and you step inside. Theodore peers around the common room and says, “Never been in here before.”

“Some Gryffindor girl hasn’t taken you back with her?” you ask but you instantly regret your teasing words. The thought of Theodore with someone else (Lavender Brown comes to mind and you scowl internally) makes you queasy.

“Can’t say that it’s happened,” he says, shooting you a cocky smirk. “You’d be the first.”

“I’m honored. Wait right here.”

Theodore flops on the couch and sighs in satisfaction. “So much more comfortable than Slytherin’s.”

“Yeah?” you ask as you retreat up the stairs. He shouts after you that Slytherin’s couches, while not wholly terrible, are stiff whereas your common room’s are plush and cushy.

Theodore’s scarf, knit in a red cashmere, lays innocuously on your bed. You’re abruptly self-conscious of it; Theodore got you two beautiful and likely expensive books and you knit him a measly scarf in colors that aren’t his House’s. 

Merlin, you think, what if he hates it?  Only one way to find out, you suppose. With a deep breath, you pick it up and hide it behind your back. You peek into the common room, where Theodore lounges on the couch, his figure long and relaxed. His shirt has ridden up a little and you spy a sliver of the toned muscle of his stomach. 

“Close your eyes,” you say. You watch his eyes shut, unfairly long lashes brushing his cheekbone. You creep into the room, halting in front of him. The flames dancing in the fireplace are the only excuse you can come up with for why you’re so warm. “Hold out your hands.”

He sits up straight and does as he’s told. You say, “It’s not wrapped.”

“That’s alright.”

You inhale, exhale, and gingerly place the scarf in his hands. He opens his eyes and inspects the scarf, rubbing the knit yarn in between his fingers. You hold your breath.

His face breaks into the biggest grin you’ve ever seen on him. He looks—

He looks beautiful. He’s always handsome, yes, but he’s beautiful here.

“This is really nice. You make it yourself?”

You hum in affirmation and he loops it around his neck, standing and spinning around playfully. “How do I look?”

“I think red’s definitely your color,” you tell him, your own cheeks hurting from how widely you’re beaming. 

Theodore takes a step closer, his shoes nearly knocking into yours. The glee in his expression morphs slowly into something different. It’s not anything bad, but it’s somehow more intense and softer than before. “Thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome. Thank you again for the books.”

“You’re welcome.”

The fireplace crackles, embers spitting.

You’re not sure who moves first. Your mouths crash against each other like waves against a bluff, all lips and teeth and tongue. Your hands are everywhere, in his hair, clutching his shoulders, cupping his face. His hands are just as frantic, grabbing at your waist and hips, squeezing you tight against him. 

You two come up for air but you don’t surface for long. Despite the way he’s worked up, he’s careful in unwinding the scarf from his neck and draping it over a nearby arm chair. Then, he’s on you again, pulling you flush against him. 

He guides you to his lap as he sits back on the couch, lips never leaving yours. You straddle his thighs, tugging lighty at his curls. He moans into your mouth. Your hips move against his. His fingers, long and cold, creep under your shirt and send a shiver down your spine. 

His mouth only leaves yours to latch onto your neck, sucking and licking and nipping. You whine and push yourself against him harder, your hands clumsily trying to undo the buttons of his shirt. He helps you, flinging it off his shoulders, and pulling your own off your torso. 

“Fuck,” he groans, chest heaving as he takes in the view of you. He’s staring at you like you’re some sort of goddess. “Fuck, you’re beautiful, amorina.”

You melt under his gaze. His ocean blue eyes are a little glazed and his mouth is kiss-swollen and ajar. Godric, he’s one to talk. You lean in closer, tracing his jaw and letting your hand trail down his neck, his chest, down to his stomach. You graze the top of his trousers and lightly scrap your nails over the skin just above. He hisses, hips bucking, and before you can say anything to him, he’s yanking you down for a kiss. 

It’s slower, no less passionate but less frenzied, and you only break apart to whisper, “Bedroom, Nott.” 

He doesn’t say another word, springing from the couch, grabbing the scarf you made him, and dragging you up to your dorm. As soon as he’s inside, he sets the scarf on your bedside table and pushes you down onto the mattress, climbing on after you. 

You squeal as he peppers kisses along your neck. “Theo,” he murmurs against the skin of your collarbone. “Call me Theo.”

“Okay,” you say, testing it out. “Theo.” His hips slot against yours once more and you cant your up. He slips a hand down your pants and when he presses his palm against you, you whine, “Theo!”

Another rumbling moan, “Amorina, you don’t know what you do to me.” Another long, hard kiss. Your hands move to unbutton his trousers. 

You don’t care how sweaty and sticky you are as you lay panting against Theo’s chest, feeling the way it rises and falls in rapid succession. You listen to his racing heartbeat and he places a sweet kiss to the top of your head. 

As you two catch your breath, Theo says, “I think Juliet should have gone with Benvolio.”

You look at him like he’s crazy. “That’s really what you’re thinking about?”

He winks at you. “Of course not. I’ve been thinking about it since we finished the book.”

You slap his chest playfully and ask the obvious question: “Why do you think so?” 

“Well, you said I’m like Benvolio and I told you you remind me of Juliet.”

“Huh?” You think for a couple of seconds and then it clicks. “Oh!” You take in Theo’s half-lidded eyes staring at you. “Oh…” 

He dips down to kiss you again.

Over the break, you’ve expanded on what you know about Theodore Nott. One, he’s quiet because he’s thoughtful, always observing, always analyzing, and storing away information for whatever purpose he’d like to use it for. 

Two, he’s whip-sharp — you see it in the way he can quote Shakespeare plays like second-nature; in how he easily banters with you, always coming back with a swift reply and a cheeky smile. 

Lastly, he’s unbelievably handsome. You knew this before but it’s different now. You admire the way he holds himself with an unflagging confidence, how he has these rare full-bellied laughs that make you crave the sound. But you think he’s most handsome when you sit together, cloistered away in the Clock Tower, reading Romeo and Juliet and now Macbeth together. You’re so close, you can smell the peppermint on his breath from the candy canes the house elves snuck you. You can see all the shades of blue in his eyes. You can count the beauty marks on his face. 

This close, you can lean over and kiss him and delight in the way your heart thrums when he reciprocates, cradling your face and coaxing you into him. 

You spend the majority of the rest of the break wrapped up in Theo’s arms. By the last day, you’re sure you have snuck each other into your dorms more times than either of you can count. You hang out a few times with Mattheo, who turns out to be not as bad as your friends make him out to be. He’s sharp and quick-witted like Theo with a tendency towards the dramatics that makes you laugh. 

You’re sitting at the same spot underneath the tree at the Black Lake, Theo relaxing between your legs. He’s swaddled in the same black overcoat you saw him in before, only this time, the red scarf you knit is starkly bright against the coat. You card your fingers through his soft curls, ducking to peck his forehead. He tilts his head upwards and smiles boyishly at you and it makes you giggle, planting a kiss on his mouth. He brings your hand down to his lips, kissing each fingertip.

You relish the quiet with him, knowing that tomorrow will be a flurry of activity with students and faculty returning from winter holiday. It makes you sigh, the thought of leaving the little world you and Theo have created. Your relationship is only a couple of days old and you can’t deny that you’re anxious about your friends coming back. 

As if sensing your nervousness, Theo sits up and spins around to face you. You attempt to plaster on a reassuring smile but it’s wobbly and uneasy. He cradles your face with one hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “What’s wrong, cara mia?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble. He tilts his head, raising an eyebrow with an expression that tells you he knows you’re lying. “What are we going to do when everyone comes back?”

“What do you mean?”

“Theo, our friends all despise each other.”

He replies, “So? Just because they don’t like each other doesn’t mean we can’t.” He kisses the back of your hand. “And I happen to like you very much.”

You smile weakly at him. “I know, and I like you very much as well. It’s just…” You can picture the dawning horror on Ron’s face and the grimaces on Hermione and Harry’s. 

Theo’s mouth turns downward and he asks, “Why do you care what they think?”

“Don’t you care what your friends think?”

“No,” he says firmly, adding, “Plus, Mattheo likes you so who’s to say everyone else won’t?”

“Theo…”

He repeats, “Why do you care?”

“I just don’t want anything to ruin this, ruin us.”

“They can only ruin it if we let them and we won’t.”

“You don’t know that for sure! We’re still in the early stages of our relationship.”

“Do you not have faith that we’ll stay together?” he asks.

“I do! It’s—” You sigh in frustration, brow furrowed. “I just want to preserve what we have without outside influence. Please, can we just wait a little to tell everyone?”

You wish you didn’t see the way Theo’s expression falters, hurt passing across briefly before he wipes it away.  He’s studying your face, eyes dark and unreadable but he nods. “Fine. But you have to promise me that it’s just for a little while.”

“I promise.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Mattheo not to open his big mouth.”

“Thank you, Theo,” you say. This time, you reach for his hand and peck his knuckles. His shoulders lose their tension and he bends towards you, mouth ghosting against your neck. You squeal and giggle and you feel him smile against your skin.

author's note: at long last, the theo nott fic i teased months ago... this fic was supposed to be a lot longer but i when i went back to college and hit a major writer's block, it just languished. i'm proud of what i've written, which is why i want to post it, but please excuse the kind of abrupt end. there is a potential continuation in the future <3

[pricesprincess]

part two to this | angst | part three coming soon...

later that evening dinner was served and simone was bathed with her pjs on as she settled into the couch under a mountain of blankets holding her tablet while face timing simon who answered on the first ring with a smile that was reserved just for his little girl.

"hello, princess. i miss you already, are you all for bed?"

it hurt hearing simon talk so quietly like that and seeing him so torn up made your heart sink to your stomach and all the way down to your toes like a weight on fishing line. "i am! do you think you can you come over for dinner? mom made your favorite!" simone asked.

from where you stood in the kitchen you heard the silence fill the video call as you glanced down and sure enough you were making what you were so used too, even after months of the separation you were still doing things for him to make his life easier.

simon mulled the question over his head, and while he does respect you, his daughter wanted to see him and that came before anything.

"tell your mum i'll be there soon, i love you."

simone hung up her tablet and put it in her cubby before running to the kitchen, her lips tugged into a bright smile as she clapped her little hands together. "daddy is coming for dinner!" she announced.

when you and simon had separated she had asked if you still loved her daddy and without a second of hesitation you told her you always would no matter what but she was too young for the rest of it.

she came closer to stand by you, her arms wrapping around your legs as you bent down to kiss the top of her head earning a glare so similar to simon's. "my hair mommy! i want to look pretty for daddy!"

you couldn't help but chuckle a little and crouch down to her height as you took hold of her hands. "baby girl, you are the prettiest already to him, why don't you put on a dress then?" you suggested softly.

simone skipped off to her bedroom down the hallway as you finished up dinner feeling a soft flutter in your belly, like butterflies while you waited for your date to show up, but in this case it was your husband.

when he had flat out refused to sign the papers you thought about using one of the fighting moves on him that he showed you but instead you left your shared home with your daughter.

simon truly never felt like his nickname until the first night being alone without his girls giggling and doing each other's makeup, now it's just silence that keeps him awake, it was all overwhelming.

ten minutes later simone came strutting from her room complete in the princess attire, the glittering crown she wore matched the array of purples in the dress and the plastic shoes as well. "is he here yet?"

"not yet baby, i'm sure he will be soon though. do you still have that card for him?" you asked while setting the small dining room table up for three, the image was enough to make your heart flutter.

perhaps you and simon could work this out.

the card simone bought in the store as you shopped for dinner was something she hasn't been able to stop talking about since then nor could she stop bragging to everyone at the store about her dad.

she zoomed to her room then back to the kitchen holding the white envelope with a grin as she bounced back and forth unable to hide the excitement even though she just got done spending a weekend with simon, he truly was her hero and number one, same for you.

to pass time you cleaned up while simone got on her tablet to watch an episode of her show before asking you were simon was.

an hour passed and no calls or texts, dinner was now cold and you were irritated and disappointed. heating the food up you ate in silence with simone who kept glancing at the door with sad eyes.

you wanted to punch simon in the throat for getting her hopes up and you wondered what it was that kept him from coming over because you knew that him seeing simone was the most important thing to him.

another phone call and more unread texts later you finally helped simone out of her dress and into some pjs before tucking her into bed and reading a story. "why didn't daddy come? does he love us?"

her question made you tense as you perched on the side of her bed, simon and love could be like oil and water sometimes, his version of love was never something like this so he tried his best.

"of course, he does honey bug. i think he got caught up into something which happens, he loves you so very much sweet girl."

her blue eyes watered before flowing over down her cheeks as she clutched the rainbow teddybear simon gave her a few months ago.

even at her tender young age simone was beyond smart.

"why can't daddy live with us?" her question wasn't aimed to hurt but you could feel the physical pain bloom in your chest then your throat formed a lump as you fought back the tears as well.

you cleared your throat and brushed her hair back. "it's a lot baby, ok? just get some rest and tomorrow is a new day." you told her and kissed the top of her head before standing up.

making sure her nightlight was turned on you had to fight off the torrent of tears that threatened to break like a dam as you listened to simone sniffle and bury herself deeper under her blankets.

once the door shut with a soft click you quickly made it to the living room and tapped at the screen, each one a flame adding to the raging fire building inside you from simone being stood up.

as much as you hated to say it you were used to it, from the beginning of the relationship there were enough missed dates and anniversaries to fill years old calendar you were sure but you love simon enough to over look all of that, none of it mattered.

that is until you had simone and while it was just you at first you couldn't stand to see your daughter go through the same feelings or have consuming thoughts of whether he'll come or not.

voicemail. again.

you dropped on the couch and rubbed your face before dialing john's number.

voicemail.

soap, same thing.

taking a steadying breath you pushed aside the what-ifs that you've battled for years and tried to keep calm. why the hell isn't he answering his phone? you kept repeating over and over again.

then finally, kyle answered.

"kyle...hi, do you know where simon is?" you asked immediately, not even giving the man to say hello or anything, suddenly your mouth went dry waiting for his answer. "kyle? hello?" you pressed again.

[mingis-orangejuice]

Using Reverse Psychology On The Demon Bros

Warnings/Genres: manipulation(in a cute way, kinda?), mentions of diets (only in Beel’s part) fluff, crack

I feel like all the Brothers would fall for reverse psychology so easily. I don’t think MC would purposely try to manipulate them (at least not all the time), they would just say things that happen to make the brothers suddenly want to help them lol

Lucifer

-He’s literally the avatar of pride, if you wound his pride he’d be quick to try and prove you wrong

-MC: Lucifer can you help me with my potions homework?

-Lucifer: MC, can’t you see I'm extremely busy with paperwork for Lord Diavolo so that will have to wait for now

-MC: Fine, I guess I'll just go ask Satan, he’s the smart one anyway… *turns to leave *

-Lucifer: *is instantly standing in front of you within half a second looking all flustered and grabs your notebook from you* Let me take a look at that for you 

Mammon:

-Even tho he’s a Simp for you he’s also a bit lazy so you’ll need to ask him multiple times for help when it comes to any type of hard work.

-MC: Mammon, can you help me carry some boxes from the attic Lucifer says we need to start getting rid of some of the useless junk up there.

-Mammon: Nah I got better things to do than menial labour for Lucifer

-MC: ok I guess I‘ll ask Beel to help, He can probably carry all the boxes in one trip, we’d get it done so quickly ☺️ 

-cue Mammon zooming up to the attic trying to stack all the boxes to prove that he can lift way more than his little brother.

Levi:

-Levi would definitely be the easiest to trick with this since he’s already constantly jealous of his brothers anytime they spend time with you.

-MC: Levi it’s my day to cook dinner do you want to come shopping for the ingredients with me?

-Levi: Sorry MC I’m on hour 9 of rewatching TSL, plus it's too bright outside. Why don’t you pull up a cushion and we can watch it together?

-MC: Oh that's ok I guess I'll go ask as Asmo, he’s been wanting to take me out on a date anyway *You close his door and start walking down the hall to Asmo’s room

-Levi: D..D..D.. Date! Wait MC no I’ll take you, I didn’t realize you were asking me out on a date, wait please come back!

Satan:

-I feel like he would also get jealous really quickly. Especially if you bring up Lucifer he would go full-on rage mode. Basically, anything that works on Lucifer will work on him too.

-MC: *pointing to one of the many books in his room* can I read that one? it looks cool.

-Satan: No MC it's cursed you could get hurt

-MC: ok *walks away*

-later MC is on the couch reading a book they borrowed from Lucifer

-Satan: *sees you reading the book Lucifer recommended, runs to his room to get the cursed book you wanted to read earlier* wait MC read this instead !!!!

-MC: but you said it was cursed

-Satan: it's fine I’ll figure out how to cure you just drop that other book NOW!

Asmo:

-Asmo would definitely get upset if you complimented someone else

-he wants to be the only one MC goes to for beauty advice 

-MC: Asmo can you share your skincare routine with me?

-Asmo: My dear MC I can't just give away my secrets to looking this gorgeous *walks away*

-later at RAD

-MC talking to Simeon: Wow Simeon your skin is positively glowing what products do you use, you’re so beautiful!

-Simeon: *blushing* oh, let me show you, I use…

-Asmo who had been eavesdropping: *Grabs MC’s arm* MC why don’t we head home I have to show you how gorgeous I look when I’m doing my skincare routine! 

Beel:

-I don’t wanna be cliche but reverse psychology would only work on Beel if it was about food

-Beel is always ready to help so there wouldn’t be too many situations where you’d get to use reverse psychology on him. Like if you asked him to help carry something he would do it, no questions asked. 

- but if you wanted some of his food, especially if it was something special that he’s been looking forward to it might be a bit difficult.

-MC forgot their lunch and saw Beel eating in the cafeteria: Beel can I have some of your food it looks really good!

-Beel: *looks at MC and then looks at his food* uh this is the limited edition Goliath Hellfire pizza from Hell’s Kitchen each customer is only allowed to purchase 1 in their entire lifetime. 

-MC: oh it's okay I just hadn’t had lunch today, I guess I can just go ask Asmo for some of his lunch

-Beel: *Grabs MC’s wrist to stop them from leaving* Asmo is on a diet again so there’s no way he has enough for both of you to get enough, here MC have some of mine *sits MC down and  hands them a slice of pizza that's almost double the size of their body

(this one was a stretch cuz I feel like Beel would have given MC some food anyway but I couldn’t think of anything for him, but I also didn't want to leave him out)

Belphie:

-He is the definition of unbothered he doesn’t care if you go out with the others cuz he’s too lazy to go out but also he knows the moment you sit down he can just fall asleep on you and now you’re stuck with him 

-but other than that I think he’d be just a little possessive of his nap stuff tho like blankets pillows etc… 

-you know he has the best stuff so if you want to have a great sleep you’ll need to ask to borrow them.

-MC: Belphie can I use your fancy sleep pillow I can’t sleep

-Belpihe: *pretends to sleep on the couch so he doesn't have to give MC his favourite pillow*

-Mammon: Don’t worry MC come sleep on my bed it's crazy comfy you'll definitely fall asleep right away.

-Belphie: *Throws the pillow at MC and pulls them onto the couch to take a nap with him-Mammon: Hey they were gonna sleep in my room tonight!

[lixie-phoria]

summer sun forever (stray kids comforting their 9th member!reader)

pairing : platonic stray kids x fem!9th member reader

requested : yes

warnings - mentions of blood, description of poor parenting (lmk if i've missed any!)

genre - angst to comfort

jeongin thought it was normal, the way you would sit alone during group discussions giving your input only when asked directly.

seungmin though it was a habit, the way you would immediately pinch yourself if you made a mistake.

felix thought it was out of good nature that you would constantly appreciate his sunshine-like personality and inability to be mad for longer than a few moments.

han thought it was adorable, the way you would cover your smile while laughing at one of his jokes, trying to hold back any laugh that was louder than a giggle.

hyunjin thought it was just your strive for perfection that you would spend hours more than the other boys trying to perfect your choreographies, scared to mess up.

changbin thought it was a personal preference, the way you'd always dress up in lose clothing, rejecting anything that was too fitting.

lee know thought it was impressive, the way you could recognize any member just from his footsteps approaching your room or the way you always left one ear uncovered when using headphones.

but chan knew. or he thought he did, at least. maybe it was brotherly instincts kicking in, but he knew these habits weren't healthy. far from it. it concerned him, but he didn't know how to approach you either.

his concerns were triggered for the first time when you dropped a glass at the dorms, sharp shards scattering everywhere. you didn't notice him rush to help you as he stopped dead in the doorway of the kitchen, watching you pick up the broken pieces with bare hands. he saw the way your hands were trembling and how a particularly tricky piece sliced right through your skin, blood oozing out. you didn't even flinch, sparing the cut a small glance before you went back to cleaning the floor. you didn't bother trying to disinfect it, opting to only run it under the tap and wiping it away with a few tissues. then you crumpled them up, making sure the members wouldn't notice the red on the paper and went about your day as usual. chan waited, patiently, expecting you to bring up the injury to anyone, but you didn't, so he thought maybe it was just a small cut. maybe it was just a small wound, after all.

you would tell them if you were really hurt, right?

the second time chan notices something wrong is when you hit your upper arm at the edge of the table during dinner. it had hurt, that much he knew from the way you yelped and rubbed the sore spot. he had laughed at your clumsiness with the others as you smiled sheepishly, ducking your head and running away to your room to do who knows what. he thought he saw tears in your eyes, but you didn't mention the bruise again, so they all thought you were okay.

but chan's breaking point was when stays themselves noticed something was wrong. he was scrolling through instagram when a particular reel caught his attention. it was of their dance performance, and the fan had zoomed into your figure - specifically your upper arm - and the large reddish blue spot was so strikingly evident it took him three rewatches to make sure it was not an edit. how had any of them missed it? then another reel came up, and it was you wincing slightly as lee know jokingly shook your hand, the same one you had cut while cleaning the glass. and it's like the pieces immediately fall into place.

chan doesn't think twice. before he knows it he's out of his room and walking (more like storming) towards yours, and he doesn't bother knocking. but even then, you had been expecting him, because you're staring at the door with a small smile on your face.

"i heard you coming. is everything ok?"

it's the first time your keen observation skills concern him, but he doesn't answer, instead striding towards you and lifting your arm despite your complaints. when his eyes zero-in on the bruise that you had expertly been concealing, he sees red. he isn't sure why he's angry. it's not your fault. but he is mad, and he couldn't control it.

of course you could see it on his face, and it's like you go into auto pilot mode, snatching your arm back and immediately apologizing, making excuses that fly straight out of his ears. he tries to hold back, he really does, but he can't. and before he can stop, the damage is done.

"don't bother. you clearly don't trust us enough anymore."

in hindsight, that was probably the worst thing chan could have said to you. blaming you would only worsen things, but he's so confused and disappointed in himself. he didn't know what kept you on the edge so often, and it hurt him that you wouldn't open up.

and thus the apparent cold war began.

you weren't mad. no. far from that. you were terrified. you had disappointed chan, the one person who made you feel safe always. the one person you knew you could go to with anything. but you chose not to, and now maybe you never will be able to. and it was like you were a teenager again, crying yourself to sleep every night, cautious of every word you spoke, and jumping at the slightest raised voice.

chan wasn't mad either. he was confused. he was hurt, a little bit. and he regretted the words he had carelessly spat out. it clearly hadn't been the right approach and now it hurt him to see the way you would tense whenever he stepped into the room, not making eye-contact and apologizing profusely to everybody for the smallest mistakes.

he thought giving you space was the best option for now. but in hindsight, that was a terrible decision too. he didn't realize how angry he was coming off as. he didn't know that not just you but all the members thought he was giving you the silent treatment. and for you, that hit too close to home. literally.

"ynnie, do you want some more soup?"

felix is met with a timid yes as he happily pours you another serving. but even his bubbly smile couldn't diffuse the obvious tension in the atmosphere. the other 7 didn't know the details of what had happened. chan knew you would want to tell them yourself if you told them at all, but they knew it was bad. because now you barely smiled and chan always seemed tense.

"and salt?"

again, you only nod, reaching towards the jar he was offering, when it happens. all of a sudden. jeongin's arm brushes yours, and as his elbow pushes into your bruise, you yelp, the lid falling to the floor with a loud shattering sound.

the silence that follows immediately after is loud, and everyone notices the way you go completely still. unnaturally still, as though waiting for someone to yell at you. lee know recovers first, and as he bends down to pick up the fallen object, you flinch, and their hearts collectively shatter.

what was the matter with you lately?

before they know it, you're gulping the steaming hot soup down, hurriedly apologizing and making a bee line for your room. but this time, everyone can see the tears brimming your waterline.

nobody gets up, but nobody eats anymore either. the silence only intensifies until chan groans, burring his face in his hands.

"hey lix, you mind checking up on her? i don't think she's doing very well."

the blonde boy doesn't need to be told twice. he's making his way towards your room and when he enters, the floor slides from beneath him. you're curled up in your bed, trying to muffle your sobs that wrack through your body.

when you see him come in, your first instinct is to hide. to not show. but it's too late, because he's rushing towards you, embracing you in the warmest hug. its comforting, in a way you have never felt before, and that only spirals your break down further.

felix doesn't know what to do or say. he doesn't know what happened. he doesn't know what could make you feel better, but it's so incredibly heart breaking the way you curl up into yourself as though trying to reject any help that it brings tears into his own eyes.

it isn't long before the others come following, and when chan sees you it's like a part of him dies. you look so small, so hurt, so breakable. and deep down, he knows this could have been avoided if he'd thought twice before lashing out at you.

"yn."

his voice is soft, and when you notice him you're scrambling out of felix's grasp, and he almost thinks you're trying to get way from him. but then you're throwing yourself into his arms with apologies tumbling out along with your sobs. he tries to calm you down, running a hand through your hair, but you're inconsolable. they have never seen you cry like this before.

"calm down, angel. please. talk to me."

it's the first time chan has spoken to you in more than a week, and you hadn't realized how much you had missed it. how much his silence had been affecting you.

"please don't be mad at me." you whimper as chan guides you sit on your bed, the other 7 hovering around unsure of what to do but concern reflecting in each of their eyes.

"mad? i'm not mad, ynnie. i'm concerned."

his words come as a shock.

he's concerned?

"but i'm crying."

"that's exactly why i'm concerned."

"oh."

you've never heard these words before. you never thought you would. growing up, showing emotions was a big no. crying was almost a taboo. showing emotions was for the weak, as your parents would say. they didn't wish to raise a weak daughter. nobody ever showed you concern. it was either anger or silence.

you've run out of tears, but dry sobs still shake your body every few seconds as chan holds you closer, motioning for the rest to sit down.

"do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head. no. you were bad at talking about your feelings. they didn't have to know. it's not that important.

"you have to open up at some point, yn."

"i don't want to burden you guys."

"burden us?"

even seungmin, who usually stays expressionless during conflicts, seems appalled.

"yn, your emotions are not a burden."

"that's not what mum used to say."

you didn't mean to say it out loud, but it slips from your mouth and they all seem to have heard it.

chan's grip on you tightens. none of them knew much about your family. you didn't like talking about it. now it was slowly coming to them exactly why this preference could be.

"you can trust us, you know? we want to be there for you."

"i do trust you."

"then why won't you tell us what's wrong."

"don't want to annoy you any further."

the guilt gnaws at chan as felix pulls you away from his grasp, snuggling you into his side.

"yn, i wasn't mad. i was trying to give you space."

"i thought you were ignoring me." and in a smaller voice you reluctantly add "like my parents used to. everytime they were mad."

even han is somewhat misty eyed as felix runs calming circles against your upper arm.

"we would never give you the silent treatment."

"yeah! we love you way too much for that."

"is that why you're so closed off?"

"changbin! you can't just ask her that."

you giggle tiredly, earning a small smile from chan.

"it's alright. i'm glad you asked binnie. i think i'm ready to tell you guys."

they're all attentively waiting, and you shift uncomfortably. you never thought you would have this conversation.

"growing up, my parents didn't encourage me to express myself very much. i wasn't allowed to make mistakes, and if i did, they would give me the silent treatment for days on end. i hated it."

your voice is so small and fragile it breaks their hearts a little more.

"i've gone weeks trying to get my mother to speak to me normally. to act like she cared. but she'd always be so cold, insistent on punishing me for every little thing."

"and-" your voice broke, making hyunjin join felix in smothering you with cuddles.

"take your time, yn."

you hum, closing your eyes to stop the fresh wave of tears.

"and when chan stopped talking to me, i felt terrible. i thought i disappointed him too."

there was no more place, but chan joins the tangle of you, felix, and hyunjin as well, rubbing a soothing hand on your back.

"i'm so sorry i made you feel that way ynnie. i had no idea."

"it's not your fault," you admit, leaning into his chest.

"are we good now?"

"i hope so."

chan lets out that breathy laugh of his which you've grown to love over the years.

"don't ever hide your feelings from us, ynnie. you're a part of us. we don't want to see you hurting."

felix bops your nose as you smile, and it's all so corny and sweet, but it's also exactly what you need.

"now can we please have a movie night?"

"yah! jeongin. give her some time."

"no no, i'd actually love that. please?"

they're all ready to do whatever you want. it warms your heart and you almost cry again. nobody ever did this for you. you learned to think you didn't deserve it.

but here these 8 boys were, scrambling around trying to a build you a pillow fort and searching the shelves for snacks, yelling at each other across the house.

and as you're sitting there, you think that this could be your favorite site. they could be your favorite people. this could be your favorite memory. this feeling of being at home could be your favorite forever.

©lixie-phoria, 2023 taglist : @foxinnie8 @hamburgers101 @starlostlaiba @jiisungllvr (send an ask to be added/removed)

[bat-mom-writer]

Wife On Repeat

Reader(Wife) X Bruce Wayne(Husband)

Summery: Bruce goes on an interview, and during his interview he wouldn't stop talking about you.

Rating: Fluff, slight spicy(if you squint your eyes and turn your head sideways.)

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

"Welcome back, folks," the host, Janelle, flashed a gleaming smile as the commercial break concluded. "And tonight, we have a truly remarkable individual joining us. An inspiration to millions, a legend in his own right. Ladies and gentlemen, let's give a warm welcome to Bruce Wayne!"

The studio audience erupted into applause as Bruce emerged from behind the velvet curtains. He was impeccably dressed, as always, his jaw firmly set, and his eyes focused on the cameras. He took his seat opposite Janelle.

"Mr. Wayne, we're absolutely thrilled to have you here," Janelle said, her voice a mix of excitement and professionalism.

"Oh, Janelle, it's an honor to be here," Bruce responded with a courteous nod, his deep voice resonating through the studio. "I might even say I've been here before, but then I realize that you're show is always on my 12th living room Tv."

The audience chuckled at Bruce's light-hearted remark, easing the tension that always seemed to follow him. Janelle leaned in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Now, as a man with such an illustrious career, we're all dying to know, what drives you?"

"Well, Janelle," Bruce replied with a twinkle in his eye, "you might say it's my chauffeur."

The audience chuckled again, and Janelle couldn't help but laugh along. "Seriously though," she said, "what motivates you to get out of bed in the morning?"

Bruce's smile remained, but there was a sudden shift in his demeanor, a softening of his eyes. "My wife, she usually has to shove me out of bed in the morning," he joked, his tone light but tinged with a hint of something deeper. "But in all seriousness, it's my wife and sons that keep me going. They're my rock, my reason."

The camera zoomed in on his face, capturing the sincerity of his words. Janelle nodded, her own expression a blend of admiration and curiosity. "You speak of your wife, Mr. Wayne, but you never mention her name. Is there a particular reason for that?"

Bruce's smile never wavered, but his eyes grew distant for a brief moment, as if looking into a memory. "Let's just say she's a very private person, and I like to respect her wishes. Plus, I think the mystery adds a bit of intrigue to the whole billionaire philanthropist package, don't you think?" He winked at Janelle, and the audience laughed in response.

"Well, I'm sure swim suit modals and Russian ballerina, are sadden to see you off the market," Janelle said with a playful smile, eliciting another round of laughter from the audience.

"Ah, the perils of fame," Bruce chuckled. "But in all seriousness, she's the love of my life, I wouldn't have her any other way."

The interview progressed, with Janelle asking him about his latest ventures in tech and philanthropy. Yet, she found herself drawn back to the topic of his family life. "You have quite the brood of young men, Mr. Wayne," she said, glancing at her notes. "Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. They're all so accomplished in their own right. Tell us a bit about them."

"Well, my wife would tell you that each of our sons mostly take after me, but I'd say with a sprinkle of their mother's charm and grace," Bruce said with a proud smile. "Dick is the eldest. He's taken after me in a lot of ways, but he's also forged his own path. He's got a strong sense of justice, and he's not afraid to get his hands dirty to make the world a better place. Sometimes he'll literally get dirty, and my wife has to remind him to wash up before dinner."

The audience chuckled, and Bruce's gaze grew more intense as he continued. "Jason, on the other hand, is the wild card. He's got this fiery passion that can either set the world alight or burn bridges. But usually my wife is the one putting out the fires."

"Then there's Tim," Bruce went on, a hint of warmth in his voice. "The brains of the bunch. He's got a mind like a computer—no, better than a computer. And he uses it for good, just like his mother always taught him. He's got a gentle soul, but don't let that fool you. He's as tenacious as they come when he sets his sights on something. I think he picked that up from my wife."

"And finally," Janelle prompted, "what can you tell us about Damian?"

Bruce's smile grew wistful. "Ah, Damian. He's the youngest, but he's got the heart of a lion. And the stubbornness to match. He's a bit of a handful, I won't lie. But he's also the most loving and fiercely loyal little guy I know. He's got a bit of his mother's grace in him, which I'm sure she's thrilled about, and he's learning to channel his intensity into positive outlets. I can't wait to see what he'll achieve when he's all grown up. Though I think my wife would argue that he's already achieved quite a bit."

Janelle nodded, scribbling down notes. "It seems you're very proud of your sons," she said.

"I am," Bruce said, his eyes glowing with pride. "But it's my wife who truly deserves the credit. She's the glue that holds us all together. Without her, we'd all be lost."

Janelle leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "I couldn't help but notice how often you brought up your wife," she said. "It's clear she plays a significant role in your life and the lives of your sons."

"She does," Bruce agreed, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed to radiate through the studio. "She's the unsung hero behind the Wayne legacy. Without her, none of this would be possible."

"How did you two meet?" Janelle asked, her curiosity piqued.

Bruce took a deep breath, his eyes glazing over as if lost in a cherished memory. "Well, Janelle, that's a story for another night," he said, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "But I can tell you that she walked into my life when I least expected it, and she changed everything."

The audience leaned in, hanging onto every word. Janelle, sensing the gravity of the moment, decided not to push further. "Let's move on to your philanthropic efforts," she said, switching topics. "Your newest venture, the Wayne Foundation, is making waves with its innovative approach to solving global issues. Can you tell us more about that?"

"My wife's idea," Bruce said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "She saw a need for a more personal approach to giving back. We wanted to create a foundation that didn't just throw money at problems, but actually rolled up its sleeves and got involved in the community. We've started with education and environmental initiatives, but our goal is to expand into healthcare and social justice as well. She's the heart of it all, the one who keeps me grounded and reminds me that it's not about the size of the donation, but the impact it makes."

As Janelle nodded, she couldn't help but feel the genuine love and admiration Bruce had for his wife. It was clear she wasn't just a partner in life, but also in his mission to make a difference.

The interview continued, with Bruce explaining the intricate details of the Wayne Foundation's projects. His passion for the cause was palpable, and it was evident that his wife's influence had been instrumental in shaping the foundation's core values. The audience listened intently, inspired by the depth of his commitment and the quiet strength of the woman who remained behind the scenes.

"Well, that's all the time we have for tonight," Janelle announced as the interview drew to a close. "Thank you, Bruce Wayne, for giving us a glimpse into your fascinating life and the incredible work you do. And of course, a special thank you to the woman who stands by your side, even if she's not here in the flesh."

"Thank you, Janelle," Bruce said with a nod. "I'm sure she's watching," he added, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "And she's probably cringing at every sappy thing I've said."

The audience erupted in laughter as Janelle wrapped up the segment. "Well, folks, there you have it," she said as the lights dimmed. "The enigmatic Bruce Wayne, opening up about his life's work and the woman who fuels his passion. Thank you for watching and we're going to take a quick break. When we come back, we'll be discussing the latest in celebrity gossip."

The cameras switched off and Bruce took a moment to collect himself. The mention of his wife had stirred up a whirlwind of emotions. He had always been careful about what he shared with the public, but tonight, he had allowed himself to be more open than ever before. The warmth of the studio lights began to feel stifling, and he longed for the cool embrace of the night.

Once arriving home, Bruce found his mansion ablaze with lights, a stark contrast to the quiet solitude he had left behind in the TV studio.

"Welcome home, Master Bruce," Alfred, his ever-faithful butler, greeted him at the door. "Your presence was quite enchanting on television tonight. Your mysterious charm has not waned."

Bruce chuckled, peeling off his tie. "Thanks, Alfred," he said, his gaze drifting to the grand staircase. "I think it's time for me to check in with the real star of the show."

Alfred nodded knowingly, his eyes twinkling. "Indeed, she's been waiting for your return."

Bruce took the stairs two at a time, his heart racing with anticipation. He found you in your private study, surrounded by books and papers, your eyes glued to the computer screen. You looked up as he entered, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Welcome back," your said, your voice warm as you get up to greet him. You're arms wrapped around him in an embrace that felt more like a homecoming than a simple greeting.

He held you tightly, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your sweet scent. "How'd it go?" you whispered.

"You watched it, didn't you?" he said, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I had to make sure you didn't spill any of our secrets," you teased, brushing a strand of hair from his face.

Bruce chuckled, his arms tightening around you. "You know me, I'm a pro at keeping secrets," he murmured. "But it went smoothly, all things considered. Janelle was quite the interviewer."

You stepped away, a playful smirk on your face. "Or you're just eager to spill everything about your love life on national television," you said, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe I did get carried away," Bruce admitted with a chuckle, his gaze following you as you moved to the minibar to pour him a whiskey. He took the glass gratefully, his eyes never leaving yours. "But when it comes to you, I find it hard not to." Taking a sip of the amber liquid, he let out a contented sigh.

You took a seat on the couch, your legs crossed elegantly, and your arms resting on the back of the cushion. "Well, with everything you told Janelle tonight, I don't think I'll be revealing myself any time soon," you said, your voice a perfect blend of humor and affection.

Bruce sat down next to you, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another sip of whiskey. "I have to let them know how lucky I am without them getting all… obsessive," he said with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "I couldn't help but notice how you avoided the question of how we met."

Bruce took a long sip of his whiskey, his eyes twinkling. "Some secrets are better left untold," he said, his voice low and mysterious. "But if I did, a few… other secrets would come to light."

You leaned in, intrigued. "Oh? And what might those secrets be?"

Bruce set his whiskey glass down with a clink, his eyes alight with mischief. "Well, thinking back, it would be interesting telling them the real story of how we met," he began, his tone playful yet filled with a sense of nostalgia. "Imagine their faces when I tell them it was in a dark alley, not at some fancy gala or charity event."

You couldn't help but laugh, the sound as enchanting as it was unexpected. "Only you could turn a mugging into a romantic meet-cute," you said, shaking your head.

"Well, when you put it that way," Bruce said with a grin, his arm sliding around your shoulders with yours coming down. "But really, it was your fiery spirit and quick thinking that night that made me fall for you."

You playfully slapped his chest. "Fiery spirit? I was just trying not to get shot."

"And you did it with such poise," Bruce said, his eyes warm with admiration. "But yes, that's when I knew you were special. And when I saw you handle those thugs with nothing but a pair of heels and a handbag…"

You blushed, the memory still vivid in your mind. "Well, I'd like to think I've improved since then."

Bruce leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And you have, in more ways than you know," he said, his gaze lingering on your face. "But I'll always remember that night, when I realized I'd met my match."

You raised an eyebrow at his dramatic tone. "The Joker?" You joked, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't recall seeing the Joker there."

Bruce leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "No, not the Joker. But someone equally as formidable," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Someone who could handle the chaos of Gotham and still look good in a pantsuit."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth of his gaze had your heart fluttering. "Dick?" you said, playing along.

"No," Bruce said, his voice a low murmur. "Someone much more… elusive." He leaned in closer, his lips so close to yours. "Someone who can melt the ice in my heart."

"Superman?" You whisper your tone teasing.

"You little teasing woman," he murmured, his gaze lingering on your lips before returning to meet your eyes. "Always keeping me guessing."

"It's part of my charm," you said, your voice a gentle tease.

"The charm that never gets old," Bruce murmured, his eyes darkening with desire.

The air between them grew thick with anticipation, the unspoken tension stretching taut as a bowstring. You leaned closer, your heart racing. "Are you just going to keep a girl waiting?" you whispered.

With a soft chuckle, Bruce closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as fiery as it was gentle. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and for a moment, the weight of their shared secrets and the chaos of Gotham City felt a world away.

As the kiss deepened, you felt the tension of the day melt away. His touch was familiar yet always had the power to ignite something new within you. You pulled him closer, your hand resting gently on the back of his neck, the warmth of his skin sending shivers down your spine.

Bruce set the whiskey glass down with care, the sound of the liquid swirling the last reminder of their light-hearted banter before the intensity of their connection took over. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer, his hand splayed over the curve of your hip. The warmth of his palm seemed to seep into your very bones, anchoring you to the moment, to him.

The door to the study swung open with a creak, the hinges protesting against the weight of the heavy wood. You both startled, breaking the kiss as your eyes darted to the intrusion. In the doorway stood Dick, his eyes wide and a look of shock etched on his face. "Bruce, I—uh, I didn't." he pause, "I should have figured…this, after tonight's interview."

Bruce cleared his throat, straightening his tie with a slight blush. "Dick, what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to say," Dick says, his cheeks flushing as he stepped into the room, "that I thought you did a really good job on the interview tonight. You talked a lot about us, and…" He trailed off, looking down at his feet. "And I'll just leave now, oh but, uh… you might want to start locking doors."

You both laugh awkwardly, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had formed. "Thank you sweetheart, I think we'll keep that in mind," Bruce says, patting your knee reassuringly.

Dick nods, a knowing smile on his face, closes the door and retreats down the hallway. "Nobody go in the office, Bruce is making out with mom," he calls out, his voice echoing through the mansion.

You and Bruce listen as he goes, "It's like he's announcing dinner," you murmur, amusement coloring your voice.

"Well, my dinner at least, come here" he smirks, tackling you to the couch with a playful growl, making you giggle and squirm in his grip. The plush fabric cushions your fall, but it's Bruce's arms that truly make you feel safe and secure. His eyes dance with mischief as he pins you down, the weight of his body pressing into yours, a comforting reminder of his presence.

[starkeyisthelastname]

@rvfecamerons has asked me to write this amazing idea she came up with. I hope this didn’t disappoint. Thank you again babe! 💕💕💕

🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺🌺

You had never really been much of a troublemaker, always listening to your elders and being respectful to everyone, even those less fortunate than you. After you turned 19, you started to become more independent. Going out to parties, taking trips to the mainland to shop by yourself, and even to her dismay, talking to boys.

Rafe had been the one to suggest getting the AirTag to put in your car. He wanted you to always be safe and to ease her worries, at least that's what he told his wife. The real reason being much darker than that. He had been sickly obsessed with you since the moment he laid eyes on your pretty self. No boy was going to touch you as long as he had control of it, and getting the AirTag installed was just the kind of control he needed.

For the last month, he had been stalking everywhere you went through the handy app on his phone. Even got in his own car and drove by a few places to check and see if the damn thing was working. Your innocent little self didn’t suspect a thing either, which is what made you so naive to the situation.

It had been like any other night. Your mother and you had gone out to dinner while Rafe worked late. She being oblivious to the fact you were texting your guy friend, who had invited you over. She never thought you would actually sneak out, you were too much of a sweetheart to do that. It was much to her surprise though, when your room was empty and car was gone at 1:00 in the morning. She immediately thought of the AirTag, Rafe had installed a moth prior, running back to their shared room.

This was the moment he had been waiting for. To catch you being the little slut he knew you were. The GPS on, he zoomed towards your location until the icy white Mercedes with a bedazzled North Carolina tag came into view. The only car there. He shut the truck off, letting his muscular 6’2 frame stalk towards the door. His usual light blue eyes, turned pitch black as soon as he barged through the door. “Bozo’s” tongue down your throat as you laid on the couch.

Gripping the shirt, the boy wore, Rafe teared him off of you. His fist immediately connecting with the boy’s jaw. You sat still, in complete shock by multiple things. Your head was spinning, how did your step-dad find you? How did someone punch one time to have teeth falling out? You knew that your step-father had a violent past but to quite literally see the boy you liked getting beaten to death, had not only scared but something else. Something that made your princess parts tingle.

“Rafe.” You whispered, the boy you had been making out with now bruised and battered as your step-father towered above him.

One look up and Rafe’s hand was gripping your arm, yanking you off the couch. He took your keys and purse in the other, dragging you towards the still open door. You winced, trying to get out of his grip but ultimately failed as he literally threw you in the passenger seat of his truck.

The tires screeched as he sped off, zooming down the empty roads of Kildare. His jaw was tight, the vein in his forehead protruding as he boiled in anger. “I knew that innocent act you pull all the time was a load of shit.” His voice so low it made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You think I’m stupid, huh? That I don’t know you are a fucking slut. You can hide it from your mom, but not from me. I could tell you were a slut from the moment I met you. Batting those ridiculous lashes at me.”

“Not a slut..” You mumbled, looking down. He was berating you with every sentence he spoke, his words nasty and degrading.

The laugh that came from him was sarcastic almost menacing, he glanced over at you for a moment, truck swerving in the process. “You know I told your mom that girls like you need some discipline. Been too fucking spoiled all your life.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, tearing your gaze away as you tried to stay relaxed in the car ride from hell. You noticed Rafe turning a few streets too early, making your frown. The street leading towards Figure 8 was nothing but trees, making it dark and desolate. You were about to ask what he was doing when the car came to a hault. It came too fast, one second you were being yanked out of your seat and the next you were being pushed against the bed of the truck.

“Rafe.. what are you doing?” You whispered, feeling the cool air hit your exposed bottom from the short skirt you wore.

“Shut up and listen.” His voice boomed, a hard smack to your ass from his hand, making you squeak out. “I’m a proactive type of person. So that means when I say I’m gonna discipline you, you are going to get disciplined.”

You weren’t expecting him to spank you, your ass cheek now stinging from just one hit. You hated yourself and more importantly your cunt for clenching around nothing at the pure wrongness of this. You felt just how damp your panties were getting, wishing you hadn’t worn a skirt or better yet had not even snuck out that night.

The sound of a zipper being pulled down and the clank of a belt, had you turning your head. It was a quick look as your head was roughly pushed down onto the hard plastic of the bed of his truck.

“Rafe..” You whimpered, head burning. “No..”

The taller man behind you, yanked your skirt up, tearing your soaked panties in one go. The dark sounding chuckle behind you was all you needed to hear to know that something bad was about to happen.

“You wanna act like a slut. You get treated like a slut.” His voice rough as he shoved his length inside you with no warning. “Show you what real dick is, since you wanna find out so bad.”

He was huge. Bigger than anything you ever could have imagined. You had only lost your virginity a few months prior and hadn’t had sex since. The burn and stretch to your hole was brutal, tears pooling in your eyes from the pain. The control he had over you though was powerful and you couldn’t bring yourself to fight back.

“What was that earlier? Not a slut.” He growled, yanking your head up by the hair. His hand came to grip your jaw tightly, dark blue eyes boring into your soul. “Why you dripping down your thighs, huh?”

Truth be told, you didn’t know why. Your step father was gorgeous to look at, and a part of you didn’t want to ever disappoint him. That was no reason to be soaking his cock though as he held you down against your will.

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughed, ramming inside you at a cruel pace, making you take his monster of a dick.

“Too.. too much.. please.” You begged, your lower stomach on fire as your first orgasm was already approaching. His hand moved down to your throat, clasping it in a tight grip. You felt your oxygen being cut, the lightheadedness coming to your brain as he squeezed hard.

“Awe don’t please me, pretty girl. You shouldn’t have been such a disrespectful little bitch, if you didn’t want to learn this kind of lesson.” Rafe’s words making you clench around his cock.

You tried to cry out, the pleasure of him taking over your body whether you wanted it to come or not. You quite literally thought that this was it. Being strangled to death, while your step-dad’s dick was buried inside you. But as you came down from your orgasm, the grip from your neck released, making you gasp for breath.

“I sure do hope that you don’t think this is over.” He breathed heavily. “Your daddy’s girl now little bitch. Got that? I catch you fucking around with another clown, I will kill you.”

You knew he had never been more serious.

[gaypirate420]

Boyfriend // Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x male!reader.

A/N: Just wanted to write the Cullen's being a family and Jasper being a ranging homosexual.

Summary: Jasper likes a booooyyyyyy uuuuhhh~

Fluff. Blood drinking (animal).

Esme was in the kitchen, making some food for Bella now that the girl comes for dinner almost everyday. The mother of the household saw a particular blonde coming downstairs with a smile on his face and fingers texting rapidly.

Esme smirked, she was filled with curiousity, Jasper rarely leaves his room and rarely smiles, no, he doesn't smile at all.

"Where are you going, hun?" The woman asked, the blonde stopped on his tracks and his smile has now faded but maintain a polite smirk that seems only reserved for any women that holds authority over him.

"Just goin' for a walk, ma'am." He spoke softly, Emmet from the couch laughed, the mother arched an eyebrow and Jasper narrowed his eyes at his brother.

"He's going to see his boyfriend!" Emmet shouted from the living room, a laugh coming from Edward followed.

"He's not my boyfriend." Jasper rolled his eyes and meet his "mother's" teasing smirk.

"Yet." Alice chimed in with a smile.

"Go ahead, Jasper. Tell Esme who is not your boyfriend." Rosalie spoke after Alice with a playful smirk. Jasper furrowed his eyebrows to his "twin." Should he tell Esme? He doesn't tell her anything anyway.

"Isn't he one of Carlisle's ancient friends?" Edward spoke this time from the couch, Esme tried to guess which one of their friends could be Jasper's type, or at least what she thought it's his type.

"He's not ancient." Jasper spoke with a defensive tone which made the rest of his siblings chuckle.

"He's like a million years old." Emmet said from the living room.

"So who is it then?" Esme spoke politely and took Jasper by his arm but not really touching him. Jasper sighed, he feels embarrassed and angry.

Jasper said your name.

Esme's mouth opened to speak but closed immediately. She knew you, or well, of you. You're not really the extrovert type and the only vampire that hasn't had a problem with you is Carlisle. You're a little too mischievous for the rest of vampires.

"May I go now, ma'am?"

"Yeah his boyfriend gonna be so mad if he arrives late for their date!" Emmet shouted again, making everyone laugh. Jasper thinks about attacking his "brother" to make him shut up, those loud thoughts making Edward feel uneasy now, hitting Emmet with his elbow discreetly to shut him up.

"Do you like him?" She whispered. Jasper nodded, a small smile appearing on his rosy lips.

"Yes, ma'am." The blonde whispers back. Esme nodded and smiled widely.

Jasper is reserved, withdrawn and he seems miserable most of the times, but right now, he looks happy.

"Does he treat you well?" She asks something that is very important for her, the blonde's lips curl into a smile again and his mind reading brother read all of the sweet thoughts he got about you.

"Yes, ma'am."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jasper walked through the forest, the moon was about to rise and the air was cool.

Someone is running near the woods, the leaf crush under the rapid walk.

His golden eyes looked around, trying to find the source of the sound. The trees, he can hear the wood cracking and the leafs falling.

"Look over here, goldilocks!" You shouted.

Jasper smirked and turn around to see you up on a tree. You jumped and landed infront of him.

"Did I scare you, cowboy?" You spoked teasingly as your red eyes meet his golden ones.

"I was trembling with fear, pretty boy." He muttered softly, his texan drawl making you feel all tingly. He couldn't help but to stare down at your lips as they curled into a smile.

"Let's meet at the top of our tree!." You smacked his shoulder softly before zooming out. Jasper chuckled and started to run behind you matching your incredible speed.

You did a spin and take a bunny that passed by. Jasper shaked his head.

"Stop showing off!" The blonde shouted behind you. You laughed.

"You're jealous you're not as cool as I am!" You responded before starting to climb a tree. You could hear Jasper catching up with you before you jumped from one tree to another, feeling the wind hit your face and the comforting smell of plants after a rainy day.

Jasper admired your vampiric beauty as he ran, he felt those strange tingles in his stomach again. He couldn't take his eyes off you.

You climbed and jumped until you stopped at the tree you've designated as yours and Jasper's. You looked down at him as he climbed up to meet you.

"You lost." You teased as you hold the bunny on your arms.

"I let you win." He replied with a smirk. You laughed and sat down on the branch of the tree.

"You lost and loser's don't get juicy bunnies for dinner." You bared your fangs at the small animal, Jasper looked at you and smirked.

"I dare you to do it. I want to see you drink the blood of an animal, pretty boy. Actually drink it." He talked between a chuckle. You furrowed your eyebrows and growl at him playfully before taking the bunny and bury your fangs on the small creature.

You pulled away, he could see you swallowing the blood before your face scrunched into one of pure disgust.

Jasper bursted laughing at you.

You smiled, you've never heard his laugh, it made you feel a strange sensation on your stomach. Or it may be the horrible sip of blood you've just drank.

"May I?" Jasper asked holding his hand out for the bunny.

"It's all yours, blondie. I warn you, that's the worst blood I've drank in four hundred years." You handed the perishing animal to his pale hands.

Jasper bared his fangs, his pupils dilate, hiding his golden eyes behind a pitch black wall. He buried his fangs deep into the animal, the bunny screamed but the cries died down quickly as the vampire drains it's life.

A couple of blood drops fall down his sweater. The blonde pulled away and tossed the dry cadaver of the animal down to the forest.

You couldn't pull your eyes away.

That was hot you have to admit. You cleared your throat.

"Do you actually like feeding from animals?" You asked, you always wondered if animals are as tasty as humans, Jasper thinks for a moment about it, he nods.

"It was hard get used to the taste. But it is better than feeling like I want to kill myself after each feeding." He spoke softly and with full honestly.

You lean over and wipe the blood from his lips with your thumb.

Jasper froze for a second. Your touch was gentle, his shoulders relaxed. It's been decades since he felt something so nice.

Your face was now so close to his, your eyes meet. If there's a word that defines you it's impulsive.

You lean over and lock your lips with his. It was a slow dance, shy at first from both parts.

Jasper pulled away, his golden eyes wide and shiny, he was about to withdrawl but instead came back in full force. Kissing you in a bolder way, his cold hand cupping your jaw.

He depends on the kiss, a delicious moan leaves his lips, a groan from your part following after, he's tasting you, touching you and drowning in your scent. He has never felt this way and he couldn't control his urges.

Your back meets the huge tree. Jasper it's almost on top of you now.

The blonde pulls away once more, to take a useless breath. You feel dizzy with happiness because the southerner felt himself radiant with joy.

The two stay silent. Eyes lingering into each other for a couple of seconds before Jasper's lips touch yours a third time. This time it's more gentle and loving.

"I've wanted to do this for a long time...ever since I met you, you light up my world, darlin'." He whispers, you can only look at him, you've never had anyone be this soft and caring with you.

You want to speak, to say you've felt the same way, that he became very special to you, that he made you feel worthy and loved.

But he could feel it too. He knew.

His lips leave a soft kiss on your forehead before he rests his head on your shoulder. You smile and wrap your arms around him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Heyyyy, sorry I've been away. I'm really focused on school and that's why I haven't written shit. This was on my drafts so here it is. You can still send requests or asks just know I'm going to take a little of time in answering. Hope you liked it!

[impyssadobsessions]

DPxDC idea/prompt Pen Pals

(Probably more idea but you can run with the concept... im so srry XD) Basically Danny and Damian are pen pals- until Damian receives a letter with Lazarus Water and Blood smeared on the page.

WHAT IF Danny and Damian were pen pals before Danny's accident. A school project for 8th grade. Damian was reluctant to participate but due to it being a grade and being pestered by his siblings that he would just scare the kid off anyways, he deciding to partake in this pen pal. Danny whose not suffering at school, just living a normal life at the moment, is being teased by Dash saying his pen pal could smell loser before even opening the letter. Asking Danny if his parents even let him open the letter or blast it thinking its a ghost. Which makes Danny who wasn't into this idea of writing a stranger more determined to do it. Besides they might only get one letter and teachers drop the subject. They might not even get it. So what the heck. Turns out they become the only ones that constantly wrote each other- even mailing it in person once the school ended the program. (Damian having a post box set up for letters)

At first it was awkward. Danny commented/asking if Damian really was their age or some teacher pretending to write back instead of sending out the letters. If so. He sucks at it because what kid writes perfectly grammar letters and big words to convey something is cool. Guess its better than pretending he knows slang. Damian furious writes back, offended! Also asks if he isn't younger, because everyone with basic english should know to capitalize their letters! This goes back and fourth. Danny writing back every chance he got, and Damian doing the same, even being told not to at the dinner table. It goes from offended at each other to being curious. Danny asking Damian more advice on english because it isn't his favorite subject. Damian asking more about how to sound like his age. Then it devolves to animals. Danny wishing he had one, but his parents didn't want one getting into the lab. Damian happily sending picture of his animals. Danny talking more about the stars.. etc. Until Accident happens- Danny starts having trouble writing the letters. His pen with phase through his hand and replies between them got longer. Danny justifying this by saying he's having trouble with schooling this year. Damian also been unable to send as many replies because he's been busy with teen titans and other heroics. Though he's encouraging Danny saying Danny is far smarter than that school even is aware of. Until one day, after months of not being able to reply. He finds Damian's letter again. It makes him feel better. Even if Damian didn't know him... this person still believes in Danny... Though Danny feels guilty about it- it compels him to write him again. He was about to finish the letter when he gets blasted by a ghost. He returns from the fight, beaten and bloody. He picks up the letter and sighs at the green stain left on it. Folding it up he stuffs it into his bag. Next day after hurrying off to school, his mother finds the letter after it had fallen on the floor. She read a little bit of it and immediately recognize it was to Danny's penpal. She takes the opportunity to try her knew anti-ecto spray and mails it for Danny. "Boy just like his father. So messy. I'll have to give him a lecture about ecto-contamination again." Damian just returned from a mission from Teen Titans, been gone for three months. Alfred informs Damian he had received a letter from his anonymous pen pal in his absence. Damian had almost forgotten about the pen pal- thinking his pal just didn't want to answer anymore. So eagerly he goes to his room to open the letter, but immediately blood drain from his face as his eyes zoomed back the feathery ink to the green blotch of lazurus water.. having almost evaporated.. leaving a water stain that glowed... and more importantly.. the human specks of blood that was revealed with the driest parts of the stain. Damian immediately rushes to the cave.. only to find out his paranoia was right.... and was it his fault his friend was harmed? Also the idea of Damian talking to Phantom in his robin suit. Asking how Daniel Fenton was.. and Phantom surprised and slips out a "Alive as much as he's dead." Damian glaring and Phantom corrects, "He's fine. He has parents that are ghost hunters is all." Stressing his situation complicated. Phantom just so shocked his pen pal is a hero- annnnd also cursing his mom for sending a letter like that. HE KNEW IT WOULD SEND IMPLICATIONS!

but idk if I figured out a good way for Damian to see the smeared letter. I just think it be fun. Also Damian thinking he's to blame for league going after the fentons when he wasn't. At least not as early as he thought. He's very focused on saving/protecting Danny Fenton.. which makes Phantom's job harder.

[artdcnaldson]

thinking about pre engagement art at his first olympics. you’re doing coverage for a mag back home on some player from your hometown. but art. beautiful fucking art who you run into the morning of your first day and who you convince to come to your hotel so he can get away from the rickety little twin beds at the village. butter him up with a drink. only one, won’t hurt his game. you talk and talk you god you wish your story could be about him instead. and he stays the night in the hotel with you and is gone when you wake up but he’s left an official statement on his wonderful teammate, hometown guy, for your story that will make your boss happy. when you get home after your story star gets knocked in the round of 16 there’s flowers and your hotel has been paid off until the final. he wants to go to dinner after he wins gold and take polaroids of you w nothing but his medal on.

if u have room for 🫐 anon, i will keep homeostasis w my zweiginator emoji anon

Omg hi sorry I sat on this so long <333 RAHHHH pre engagement pretty angel curls art playing tennis at the Olympics makes me feel SO CRAZY

EEEEEP using your press pass to get access to all of his matches, even though you really should get home. Art’s dominating the court— effortless and beautiful. You’re there when he wins the gold medal match against an older, seasoned player, and he’s so gracious to the player’s face, to the press.

“It was a tough match,” he says into a microphone as you stand close by, thankful for the press badge around your neck. “I’m just lucky to get the chance to play with one of the greats.”

He smiles, charming and victorious when they take photos of him with his medal. The American flag in the background and him, the spitting image of homegrown, good old fashioned athletic talent.

The dinner is nice, fancier than you’re used to on a journalist’s budget. He’s just got a new sponsorship with Nike, so they pay for a lot. He buys a nice bottle of wine and bashfully admits he doesn’t know a lot about what makes it nice, other than the price tag. It’s charming, it’s sweet.

Sitting across from him at the table, you know he’s got less than innocent intentions for the night. Just three days ago, he had you sinking down on his cock, riding him hard and fast and crying out his name like it was a form of worship.

“Do you want to see the medal?” He asks once you’ve finished dessert.

You forget the question by the time you’re in his room in the Olympic village, when he’s mouth is on yours and his hands are ripping at your clothes. The bed is soft, plush beneath you as he drops you onto it, laid bare and wanting. You part your legs invitingly, wordlessly begging for him to strip off the rest of his clothes and bury himself inside of you.

You’d even let him do it raw— a present for his gold medal win.

But he disappears, digging in his suitcase until he retrieves the medal from within. Orange and red ribbon and a big gold medal at the center. Before you can say anything, he’s slipped it around your neck, so the gold is nestled between your breasts.

“Pretty,” he muses, fingers circling the cold medal where it rests. “Can I take a picture?”

“Yeah,” you answer quickly. He could’ve suggested anything, really, and you would’ve said yes. He was just so beautiful, so charming. You wanted to please him more than anything.

He pulls out a digital camera and powers it on. It whirrs softly as he zooms in, then snaps a photo of the medal resting between your tits. “Pose for me,” he says, but he has another idea already. His hands move up, sliding from your hip, up your abdomen, until it cups your breast in one large palm. He snaps another photo, smiling behind the camera.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he muses. He nudges your thighs apart and toys with your clit, just on the good side of teasing. Slow, insistent circles that make you grow even wetter, even needier. He zooms out, takes a full body shot (because he’ll die before he forgets this pussy) and tosses the camera to the side.

He hikes your legs over his shoulders and buries his face between your thighs— mouthing hungrily at your cunt. His tongue laves over your center, lapping at the wetness that had been steadily leaking from your cunt since dinner. He moans against you, as he nuzzles his nose against your clit to get closer and closer. “Taste so good—“ his words are mostly muffled against you, as he licks and sucks on your pussy, face shiny with slick and spit.

You cum easily, your body responding to his touches so openly. Like it’s his toy to use. He smiles up at you as you pant and tremble, cunt fluttering with aftershocks. He kisses your thigh gently, reverently.

It’s not long before he’s sinking into you. Your pussy so soft and warm and wet for him, sucking him in, aching for something to fill that empty spot inside. You whine and gasp as he nudges against your cervix, buried deep, finding home there.

“That’s it,” he hums as you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist. “Pull me in deeper. Just like that.”

His pace is slow, his thrusts deep. You feel so close to him as he boxes you in, arms on either side of your head, fucking you like he’s making love. When he leans down and kisses you, it feels like heaven, which seems appropriate for a boy who looks like an angel.

[xueyidweams]

My faves of Penacony (Aventurine & Acheron) x gn!reader who gives them a flower bouquet ramble(!!!!)

Aventurine

i have fancy gifs now woagh!

You were a bartender at a bar that was located in a pretty big casino in Penacony, where the gamblers come to drink their defeat away or celebrate their big wins. You’re pretty used to the racket and seeing the same faces and one day you see him. That gambler, he who never loses, he who has such pretty eyes and lips and he who winks at you so handsomely as you try to do your job and he who always seems to make some sort of electricity run through your whole body when your fingers brush.

You’re not a child, you know you at least like him romantically. You were gonna show your love with some flowers! That’s a classic, right? So you pick up some that you think match his pretty eyes perfectly and go to work, it’s pretty awkward but you can’t really see him anywhere else so this is your only shot.

You perk up as you’re cleaning some glasses and you hear his voice. Your heart does its routine again, beating so fast you feel like it’s gonna zoom out of your chest. You pat your chest just where your heart is and take a deep breath as he calls for his favorite drink. You make it, giving yourself an internal pep talk while doing so, and you present him with his drink. Only now, his glass is decorated with the flowers you bought for him, you decided to be more subtle at the end with a little note. “I hope you like the flowers, no match for your pretty eyes but I hope it makes you smile nonetheless.” Aeons you sucked at romance but damn it you tried and now you feel hot under the collar as you try your best to focus on your customers while aventurine’s eyes are STARING directly at your nape you can FEEL it.

You flinch a bit when he calls your name with that sultry voice of his, you go up to him trying to keep up some sort of professionalism. though that all goes down the window when he beckons you a bit closer, picks up a flower from the glass and tucks it onto your ear. “I think they look even prettier on you.” You stumble over your words as he smiles wordlessly, his eyes full of warmth you didn’t know they could hold and oh Aeons he is so much more pretty like this. Prettier closer, you really don’t want to pull away but there are customers yelling for you already and ugh!

He chuckles as he notices your obvious agitation, “go look after your customers, I’ll treat you to dinner if you’d like? Whatever you want, it’s on me.” He gets even closer, he is shorter when he’s sitting and its adorable to see him looking up at you— “if you’d allow me to privilege of getting to know you better, of course.”

Acheron

As a hotel worker for the family themselves you’re expected to be professional and helpful at all times. Always show a smile never be so impatient, they are precious guests after all.

You sigh as you clean another pool of a soda that’s not even sold in Penacony, how did that even get there? as you complain in your mind about how rude these people are to you just because you’re getting paid to clean up their messes doesn’t mean they can just—

“Hello?”

Your head snaps up and your customer smile comes back, “Hello! Anything I can help you with, miss?” She blinks at you for a moment, caught off guard by your overly cheery attitude, she looks around and then at you. her gaze feels intense, it makes you feel shy. She finally speaks, “I’m.. lost. I don’t know where my room is.” Oh, okay that’s easy.

“What was the number, miss?” She looks at you blankly again, you both sit in silence for a few seconds, and she speaks again. “I’m sorry I forgot that… too.” You sigh as you internally facepalm. Deciding that this pretty but directionally confused lady needs help, you put on your big person pants and ask for her room number from the reception and you escort her to her room. She thanks you as she looks at you from head to toe, there’s a small smile on her face.

This happens a few more times over the week, you keep helping her. her company is really nice, she doesn’t really judge and you can talk about how much of a bother she can be, she affirms your woes with a nod or a hum and thats enough honestly. worst of all.. okay look, love at first sight might be cliche but come on! she’s pretty, tall, has a nice voice and is polite to you. she even brushed a plastic leaf that got on your head and her hand dipped to your cheek, you could feel the cold metal on her fingers and the eye contact went on for a few seconds too long and you felt yourself melt. plus! she was a guest, who knows how long she’s gonna be here? better take your chances.

You give yourself a pretty short pep talk, “if yes hug her if no run away.” pretty good plan all things considered. You had a purple flower bouquet on your hands and some chocolate that was cheesily made for valentine and you got it half for the price. You knock on her door and hear a shuffle, with every step she takes your heart beats faster and faster until she opens the door and it feels like the time stops. You stutter and stumble as her eyes bore into you, she seems full of interest but it still makes you nervous to be the center of attention. “I.. I um… ah!” You can’t do it, you thrust the flowers onto her arms, she takes it and you make a run for it, you’re so dumb dumb dumb what the hell were you thinking oh Aeons she hates you now she does—

what you don’t see is her smelling the flowers and looking after your running form, a familiar yet distinct warmth bleeds to her heart. Her smile a little softer, her eyes a little warmer, she holds onto the flowers and the next time she sees you, she will have some flowers ready for you too.

[monzamash]

the best man — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 6.5k summary – he’s the best man, you’re the maid of honour. he’s charming and handsome, you’re single and looking for a good time. it’s an open bar wedding in swan valley and oh, he’s your ex boyfriend – what could go wrong? warnings – 18+ (sex, coarse language)

It had been 2 years in the making, the event of the decade your best friend had humbly coined her nuptials. And she was right – her and Blake had been waiting for what felt like a lifetime to show their love to the world or more specifically, to nearly 400 of their closest friends and family. It had been quite the build up with a global pandemic getting in the way and coordinating a wedding in Australia when so many of their guests were travelling in from overseas wasn’t easy. But they persevered and had finally made it to their wedding eve, guests from around the world checking into nearby hotels and resorts, excited for their big day.

For you, however, it was the rehearsal dinner that had you on edge from the second you stepped off your delayed Qantas flight that morning – stomach in knots over the unknown of it all. The few details that you were aware of were the ones that had you tangled up; the first being that you were Sarah’s maid of honour, one that you took very seriously but because of the border lockdowns and hectic work schedules, you hadn’t been as involved as you would’ve liked.

The second detail was the one that really had you in a chokehold. Up until this point, you’d avoided the inevitable, relief washing over you every time either Blake or Sarah said he couldn’t make it to the wedding party zoom call or when a suit fitting that Sarah had begged you to come along to was cancelled. Avoiding him had been a breeze so far, your communications kept mediated between your two best friends.

But today was D-day.

“You are rocking that LBD, girlie.”

Sarah’s voice brought you out of your phone and into the present, her bright white smile lighting up the room. It was the happiest you’d even seen your best friend and that alone was enough of a reason to grin and bear what was to come with him.

“Well I am technically single and hopefully out of the thousands of people you’ve invited to your shin-dig, there’s at least one suitor for me to have a crack at,” You winked, “But not your uncle Graham – he’s not my type.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and turned towards the full length mirror propped up beside your chair, “He’s back with Aunty Shirl so don’t worry… But I do know someone else who is single – definitely your type and actually mentioned you a few times last week.”

An interested hum slipped from your lips, curious to know who had been asking about you. Maybe you were in luck.

“Who was it?”

The way Sarah smirked and flicked her long blonde, perfectly curled hair off her shoulder should’ve given her away; “Just a friend of Blake’s – the classic tall, dark and handsome, you know… Brown eyes, absolutely hilarious and such a gentleman…” She continued, her tone teasing.

You blinked a couple of times, completely deadpanned as you stared your best friend down; “You better not be talking about Dan.”

“He’s still hung up on you, babe.” Sarah confessed, treading carefully.

“I don’t care,” You whined, irritated that this conversation was even happening. It had taken you months to move on, to mend your broken heart and now here you were, getting the run around by your supposed best friend who only wanted what was best for you. In her opinion, that was Daniel Ricciardo.

“Well just be civil with him. I know things didn’t end well and I know that you blame him for all of it and rightfully so,” Sarah quickly added, sensing your narrowed stare, “But you did love him once upon a time. A lot. And I know that you love me and wouldn’t do anything to fuck up my moment so get your sexy butt up so I can go see my husband.”

“Aye, aye captain.”

Anything to end this conversation, you thought.

Caversham House was beautiful. Everywhere you looked was picture-perfect – from the balcony overlooking the river to the four-story high waterfall framing the immaculate gardens, not to mention the painstakingly placed candles and floral arrangements hanging in every room. It was spectacular, tastefully extravagant and definitely worth the twelve-month wait.

The rehearsal dinner was strictly wedding party and parents only; everyone would have to wait until tomorrow to witness the event of the decade. Blake was the first person to come up and greet you, having only seen you a couple hours before when you’d arrived at the villas nearby. Michael was closely following behind with his wide smile; always making you feel loved,regardless of what had happened between you and his best friend.

“It’s really good to see you. Been too long, ey?” He asked, the pained inflection on his voice making you pout before you were ushered away by one of the other bridesmaids, promising him that you’d meet him at the bar for a drink later.

He was easy to pick out a crowd. The one who shall not be named; who had broken your heart into a million tiny pieces; who left you with nothing but an empty promise that maybe, one day he would find his way back to you. Utter bullshit.

He was standing with Sarah and her parents who practically raised you, chilled beer in his hand, smiles on their faces and loud laughs rousing the flock of ducks floating across the pond behind them. That fucking smile made you sick because it’s what landed you with said broken heart. Stunned in place, unable to process seeing him again after so long. It had only been six months but it felt like a lifetime without him – and without that stupidly infectious smile.

Daniel was the first to notice you walking over; truth be told, he’d been looking for you the second he stepped out of his hire car twenty minutes ago. Subtle scans of the garden and beyond, peeks over the balcony he was standing on, hoping to see you. He ached thinking about this moment, even last night in his hotel in Perth he thought about you – and whether you would speak to him, or even glance his way. You would have to, right? He was the best man and you were the maid of honour. Surely.

“Hi guys,” You smiled, confidence summoned out of nowhere, surprising yourself. Sarah’s parents were quick to pull you into a cuddle, claiming that you were too cool and way too busy for them these days, which the latter was true. You felt guilty but also knew they understood. They appreciated the little moments like this where they could get their whole family together again and you felt lucky to be a small part of that.

“We were just talking to Daniel about the season starting in a few weeks – are you going to be at the first race, love?” Sarah’s mum asked, and you hadn’t even registered that she was talking to you, assuming that everyone knew by now that you and Daniel had broken up.

Her question, albeit innocent, felt like a punch to the gut – one of the many painful reminder of how interconnected your life together had been for so many years. She wasn't the last person that weekend to remind you of what you'd lost, opening old wounds over and over.

“Actually Mum, I should go and find Blake and get started – your seats are over here…” Sarah was quick to jump into action, ushering her parents over to their table and leaving you and Daniel alone for what felt like the longest minute of your life.

He looked nervous but happy to see you. He looked jetlagged like you, and the way his frazzled curls fell onto his face indicated that the humidity had gotten to him already, the obscene summer heat doing the same to you. The small smile tugging on the sides of his mouth eased you, the quiet whistle he made also allowed you to relax. He was good at filling in uncomfortable silences – you, not so much.

“So…” You drawled, pondered out loud trying to fill the void, “Keeping well?”

Daniel stopped whistling and stifled a laugh at your seemingly innocuous question, “Really?”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” You sharply shot back, chuckling at his judgement, “Great to see you? How’s the family? Like…”

Daniel shuffled his feet on the pavement and looked up at the darkening sky above, “No, you’re right – I’m sorry. It’s just… so fucking weird seeing you after – after everything that happened in Austin,” He leaned forward and whispered, eyes boring into yours as he spoke.

You gave him a small nod, hard features softening the longer you held his stare. You always felt safe in those eyes but right now, you couldn’t let yourself get lost in them like you usually would. Daniel could sense your vulnerability and averted his gaze to his sneakers, saving you both from the heartache.

“I know but I don’t want to stress them out,” You looked over at Sarah and Blake who were speaking with their MC, “So let’s keep our distance and get through the weekend without any drama, please?”

Daniel frowned at your suggestion, wanting the complete opposite of distance but he knew he had no right to fight you on it “Sure...” He settled, a pang of disappointment shooting through his chest, “I can do that.”

“Great.”

You turned on your heel and set your sights on the job at hand. It was no mean feat being the maid of honour to someone as capricious as Sarah but she was glowingly in love; blissful compared to a week ago when she called you in the middle of the night crying, thinking that she’d forgotten to book a DJ. Of course you reassured her and sent her the wedding itinerary for the hundredth time that week, easing her nerves like only a best friend could.

And Daniel was in the same predicament, moving around the room wrangling groomsmen into their agreed upon seating arrangement. All of this ensuing chaos hidden behind your respective smiles and you knew then that at some point you would have to join forces; like you did when you were together. Five years of being the dream team.

“Why did they decide to have a million people in their wedding party?” You whispered once everyone was seated; now waiting for the bride and groom to make their entrance.

Daniel chuckled as he shuffled closer to you, the cologne you’d bought him for his birthday years ago filling your nostrils. It warmed your heart to know that he was still wearing it after the break up, no doubt that it reminded him of you every time he put it on. So many memories tied up in the smell of that cologne.

“Makes no sense to me but I’m proud of you for not slapping Izzy when she refused to sit next to Mark,” Daniel whispered causing a stifled laugh to slip from your smirking lips, “You did good, chook.”

Your nickname fell from his lips too easily, too familiar and your eyes rolled involuntarily. Of course he’d call you that, pushing the boundaries because there had never been a moment in the time that you’d known Daniel where he wouldn’t step over a blurred line. Hell, that’s how it started with him – a drunken night out and breakfast the next morning. He was nothing if not persistent and loved that once upon a time. But for now, you both had to be laser focused on the people who had found each other because of the two of you – a blind date turned into happily ever after.

“You did good too.”

You stayed true to your word and got a drink with Michael once the rehearsal was over – taking full advantage of the complimentary drinks being served by the luxurious resort you were all staying at. As you caught up with Michael, you couldn’t help but scan around the ballroom, unable to fathom how picturesque this place was in real life. It was heaven on earth.

Months ago, you found out that Daniel had been the one to suggest the venue after Blake and Sarah’s original plans fell through during the pandemic and the days following that revelation were tough. Crying yourself to sleep kind of tough. Caversham House had been written in your dream journal since yours and Daniel’s third anniversary – you remembered his words like they were said yesterday.

“My cousin got married at this amazing mansion in Swan Valley last year. One of the most beautiful places in the world…”

It was a throw away comment; an observation that Daniel may not have even realised struck you so much. But you went home that night and googled it; concluding that if Daniel ever proposed and you got to plan your wedding, Caversham House would be the place you would marry the love of your life. You never voiced that to Daniel and sadly, that day never came.

But years later here you were, watching your best friend living out your dream and you couldn’t have been happier for her – for them. Daniel had missed his chance, thrown it all away for god knows what and you couldn’t help but feel your blood starting to boil as he approached you and Michael sitting at the bar, your memories like little daggers sharpening in your mind.

“Hope I’m not interrupting,” Daniel tentatively asked, a fresh beer in hand and a sheepish smile on his face. He knew he was.

“Nah mate. Pull up a seat if you want,” Michael replied and tugged out the stool beside him but Daniel glanced down at you with wide eyes, seeking permission before taking up Michaels offer.

“Join us.”

It was subtle but you could see Daniel exhale a sigh of relief, you knew him better than anyone. You could see the weight lifting from his shoulders as he sat across from you, trying to temper his joy that you'd agreed to have him anywhere near you.

And in typical Daniel fashion, he slotted into the group seamlessly, never an awkward pause of silence or a lull in conversation whenever he was around. He was the social butterfly, the one everyone loved and you were always content with that when you were together. After the split, it became obvious how much everyone loved him and you lost touch with most of your mutual friends – Michael included.

It was a bitter pill to swallow and you resented him in the beginning but watching him talk, crack the odd joke here and there you could understand why. Like Sarah had noted in her room earlier, he was the whole package but he broke your heart. And he regretted that every second of every day. He’d tried so hard to forget the way you smiled, the way you giggled softly, trying to suppress the real laugh that only he ever got to hear. You were glowing under the lights, hair swirling around in the evening breeze and Daniel couldn’t take his eyes off you.

The grimace on his face when you caught him made you smile, eyes narrowed with suspicion as he shrugged and mouthed, I’m sorry. You mirrored his shrug and took a sip of the glass of white wine he’d gotten you when he got up to get himself a drink. Truth be told, you couldn't keep your eyes of him either.

Before you knew it, the two of you were sitting alone – Michael made up some story that he needed to speak with Blake and that he would be back but he never returned. And you hadn’t really even noticed his absence until your phone buzzed on the table between you and Daniel.

“… But being back on the farm over the break was nice – the kids asked where you were and said that they missed you a bunch of times.”

Daniel noticed the way you looked at your phone. The small smile followed by the lip bite gave you away and he couldn’t ignore the way his stomach dropped, knowing that expression all too well. It was one he’d been on the receiving end of so many times. You flipped your phone over, screen down and returned to your conversation with apologetic eyes, “Sorry, what did you say? Something about the farm?”

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” Daniel smiled and nodded towards your phone, “Answer him if you need to.”

You were slightly caught of guard, naively thinking you’d kept your cards close to you chest. Or maybe you had and Daniel was baiting to see if you’d admit that you were talking to someone new, finally moving on after six months. He was hard to read but he knew you better than anyone and you hated the way he was watching you, waiting for a response.

“Nah, all good. It’s not a serious thing,” You stupidly confessed, internally face palming as the words slipped from your loose lips.

“But it is a thing?” Daniel was quick to enquire, selfishly wanting to know whether or not you had moved on, if he'd missed his chance.

“Forget I said anything, please,” You swiftly replied, taking a gulp of wine and wilfully hoping he would drop it. He didn’t want to but he could see the warning in your stern gaze, silently begging him not to interrogate you over this, not here.

“I just want you to be happy.” Daniel landed on; honest eyes boring into yours as he clasped his hands together and sighed loudly into the cool air. 

“I was happy with you and then you threw it away like it meant nothing to you,” You breathed, hands expressively falling to your sides and busying your fingertips on the hem of your dress.

“You mean – meant more to me than anything. I just… woke up one day and realised that you deserved better; more than what I could give you being away for months on end,” He quietly replied, the words feeling dry as he explained why he’d cut you lose and broke your heart.

The scoff erupting in your throat caught Daniel’s attention, “Don’t you think I should’ve been the person deciding that, not you?”

“Of course but in the moment it felt like the right thing to do and I fucked up… I really, really screwed it up, chook. Do you ever think–”

Suddenly, you heard your name being shouted from across the lawn, both you and Daniel snapping your heads around to see Sarah waving her arms like a maniac trying to get your attention, “Time for bed, guys! Early start tomorrow."

Neither or you wanted to end the conversation there, on a cliffhanger because simply being close to each other again fuelled something internally that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He gave you strength whenever he was near and you gave him solace, a sense of calm that nobody else could ever replicate. And tearing yourselves away from that was hard, so much so that a stand off had begun.

“After you,” Daniel motioned with a smirk, reading you like a book.

“You just want me to go first so you can check out my arse in this dress,” You teased and poked his shoulder, “Pervert.”

“Absolute tickets but honestly, yeah…” He winked as you stood up and smoothed out the dress that had ridden up slightly, his eyes shamelessly scanning your outfit, “Unbelievable.”

A blush crept up your neck as his words washed over you but you couldn’t let him see that, “Goodnight, Daniel.” You said, turning on your heel and fleeing the scene as quickly as you could, but not without a little strut as you walked away.

Daniel exhaled deeply and watched you until you were out of his sight, not even noticing the dip in the couch he was sitting on.

“Put your tongue back in ya mouth and go to bed.”

Michael had caught him red handed and now it was hit turn to furiously blush. He was down bad and had no idea how he was supposed to sleep, knowing you were a couple of villas down, thinking about him, thinking about you. He missed you in so many ways, the obvious ones now being the ones on his mind as he lay in bed, fingers trawling through his hair as he tried to think of anything else but you. What eventually lulled him to sleep was the promise of tomorrow – a new beginning.

After a couple of hours of complete and utter panic, the weather had finally decided to put on a show for the newlyweds. The clouds that had dampened the morning vanished as soon as the fleet of vintage cars rolled up the stoned driveway, arriving fashionably late. You had done your best to calm Sarah but she was already teary, eyes blinking rapidly in attempt to control the tears threatening to ruin her make up. Just breathe, you’d whispered as her sister made her way down the carpeted aisle, sun shinning down on the gorgeous archway at the top of the stairs.

“Let’s go and get you married to the man of your dreams, hey?”

That was all you needed to say before Sarah nodded and pushed you towards the open doors, one last wink giving you the reassurance that she would be right behind you. The ceremony was beautiful; there were many tears and laughter rumbling through the large crowd when Blake made a joke about her being stuck with him for the rest of her life. Everything else flew by in the blink of an eye and before you knew it, Daniel was reaching out for your hand, clasping it gently in his as he guided you down the stairs and out to the balcony where the photos were going to be taken before joining the reception.

“Champagne?” Daniel asked you, flute already locked and loaded in his hand – he knew you couldn’t resist a glass of bubbly, not after such a stressful morning.

“Please and thank you,” You sighed, taking a sip and glancing over at the happy couple who had already started doing photos together.

“Can’t believe it’s actually happened.”

Daniel followed your eye line and smiled, “Who knew 4 years ago when we set them up that we’d end up here…” He pondered out loud and you agreed, you never would’ve guessed it, "It's amazing."

“I said it back then and I stand by it now; we should be professional match-makers. We’re literally 1 for 1 right now,” You enthused, reflecting Daniel’s grin.

“Oh, we’re fucking killing it. Alright, let’s see…” He trailed off and looked around the balcony at the other groomsmen and bridesmaids making small talk, “What about big Mike? Been single for a while now and way too obsessed with my shit so getting him laid would benefit me too… Izzy’s single, right?”

“She is!” You whispered a little too enthusiastically that Daniel jumped back and laughed, “But she’s a commitment girl so I don’t think a hit it and quit it vibe or his travelling would be a good match. Marcia is a bit rogue… definitely single and down for anything, I reckon... Ooo, this is too much fun!”

Daniel chuckled and soaked in your excitement – it had been so long since he’d seen you smile like that, so free and uninhibited. Like his simple existence wasn’t sucking the life out of you and wasn’t making you miserable for the first time in over a year. He felt guilty taking so much emotionally from you, the toll of his work effecting both of you in the end. He hadn’t said it out loud but he knew that his mental health was having a detrimental effect on you but you loved him. Loved him with every cell in your body and you would never have given up on him. And little did he know, you still hadn’t after all this time.

“You are so beautiful.”

Daniel’s words surprised you and there was a second of silence before he doubled down with a soft laugh, “Like, breathtakingly beautiful.”

What you did next startled Daniel. Your hand brushed over the buttons on his light blue jacket, fingertips gently readjusting the small flower arrangement pinned on the lapel as you took in his compliment. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t ignite a spark within, a small flutter of your heart making you blush as he reached out and grasped your hips in his warm hands. The silk was soft under his palms, barely even a second passed before you melted into his touch, wishing for more than a friendly exchange.  

“Thank you,” You whispered, eyes flickering up through your thick eyelashes – his brown ones gleaming with joy as you trailed your hands down his chest and gave him a soft push towards the photographers standing behind him, “Get that million dollar smile ready, Ricciardo because I think we’re being summoned.”

He continued to seek you out for the rest of the night, hypnotised by the smell of your perfume and the softness of your touches; the latter caused by the couple of glasses of wine you’d consumed.

Daniel loved it when you were a tiny bit tipsy. He loved the little giggles that you gifted him and the way you hung onto him just that little bit longer. The memories of the two of you stumbling down the footpath outside your home together last summer, barely making it up the stairs and through the door came flooding back when you whispered in his ear, “You are so bloody handsome.”

“Excuse me?” He chuckled; hand sprawled over the small of your back as he placed his jacket over your shoulders, “You heard me,” You shot back, smirk plastered across your face as you grasped his hand. “Come dance with me.”

Daniel had been waiting for you to ask, praying you’d be the one to drag him out onto the dance floor. You knew what you wanted and you didn’t hesitate throwing your arms over his shoulders, forcing his hands to snake down yours sides and grasp your swaying hips. The floor was packed with people dancing along to the DJ who was mainly spinning 90s R&B – a personal favourite of yours and the bride.

Daniel was in heaven as your bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, the music transporting you back to the first time you met – the night when your life changed in the blink of an eye. He knew to savour it, never taking your intimacy for granted because he knew that you were hurting more than him, and you had every right to be. But in that moment, as he looked down into your glossy eyes, he saw the woman he fell in love with – the one he loved more than anything in the entire world. His girl.

You were barely inches apart when he leaned down and kissed you; lips ghosting before taking what they wanted, what they craved. Even though it was Daniel making the first move, you were going to if he didn't soon and the smile erupting on your face when he pulled back reassured him that he’d made the right call. Cutting the tension with a knife and making your blush under the thick layer of makeup that hadn’t budged all day.

There was a short pause as you stared at each other, unsure whether you were fully on the same page or not but Daniel didn’t want to wait any longer. He’d waited nearly six months to be with you, to touch you; to taste you.

“Do you wanna…?”

“Yes!” You hastily replied, making Daniel chuckle before he wrapped his arm around your waist and guided you off the dance floor and away from the loud music; both of you wildly aroused and tingling with anticipation.

The mansion where the reception was being held was enormous. Guest bedroom after guest bedroom lined the hallways so you were a little shocked when you were pulled into a bathroom at the end of the passageway. It was massive, bigger than your kitchen back home and the sconces hanging from the dark walls looked nearly 100 years old, barely emitting any light. It was definitely setting a mood and you weren't complaining at all.

“There’s locks on the bathrooms but not the bedrooms,” Daniel explained, sensing your surprise at his choice of location. You nodded and reached out for him, already missing the way his body felt on yours as he pinned you against the tiled wall, heat radiating down your spine as he feverishly kissed you again.

“You’ve done me in dirtier places,” You moaned and he chuckled against your neck, lips travelling across your collarbone and between your perky breasts.

The fire that had been smouldering in the pit of your stomach all night was being stoked by his firm touch, every trace of a fingertip or rough tug on your sensitive skin making you whimper with excitement. You needed him to fuck you good.

“I’d do you anywhere, honey.”

You hummed and roughly grappled Daniel’s curls between your fingers as he dipped down further and grasped the hem of your dress. A small shrug was enough to let the thick suit jacket he had given you fall to the ground, goose bumps erupting all over your arms as he left a trail of sloppy kisses up your thighs; stopping right where you wanted him and letting the flowy material of your dress drape over his head, disappearing from your sight. He knew your body like the back of his hand and knew you loved nothing more than his warm breath fanning between your thighs, glistening all for him.

“I want you to fuck me against this mirror,” You strongly suggested through batted eyelashes as he returned into view, a smirk painted on the supple lips that were seconds away from devouring you.

“Don’t want my tongue?” Daniel cheekily asked, still crouched down and gazing up at you with those big brown eyes, waiting for your response. “Maybe later,” You whispered, watching as he jumped up with a grin, eager to fulfil whatever you desired.

“Hands up where I can see them, ma’am,” Daniel playfully ordered and you played along, holding your hands up in the air as he spun you around so you were facing the dark mirror. You could feel yourself soaking through your flimsy panties and if you could feel it, Daniel definitely could as he slid his hand into the lace, cupping you gently and stroking a single finger through your folds.

“Spread ‘em,” He whispered into your ear before pressing a firm to your temple and kicking your heeled feet apart.

Your hands were gripping the sink in front of you; white knuckling already but knowing that this wasn’t anything compared to what Daniel could do to you. He once had you bucking on his thigh like it was the last orgasm you were ever going to have, screaming in pleasure like you were being tortured. And now, all you could think about was his hard dick pressing against your backside, taunting you under the thick material of his trousers.

“Danny,” You quietly moaned through gritted teeth and Daniel knew what that moan meant, not wasting a second before unbuckling his belt and pushing his pants down to his ankles. He did the same with your underwear, except he bent all the way down to rid you of them so he could keep them in his discarded jacket pocket for safekeeping.

“I’m gonna need those back, sir.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t think so,” Daniel teased, standing back up straight and catching your eyes in the reflection in front of him.

“Gotta be quiet for me, okay?” He sweetly whispered, tongue swiping across the shell of your ear as he teased your hole with his soft tip, the feeling of your excitement mingling together making your shiver, “Already feels so good.”

You hummed as Daniel nudged forward, his thickness took your breath away as you closed your eyes and leaned over the sink a little more; taking all of him, inch by inch. He could feel how tight you were, trying to not let his mind wander to whether you’d been fucked by anyone else since the break up. Because if you had, he knew it wasn’t anything compared to how good he could do you with the way you were already choking back moans. Whimpering for more.

“Relax for me, honey. The clenching feels crazy fuckin’ good for me but I need you to just take me nice and slow,” Daniel coached, smoothing his palms over your hips and slowly rocking you back and forth against him, “God, your arse really is something else,” He rasped, lightly tapping your rump as you looked up at him in the mirror, narrowed eyes sending him a stern warning.

“Don’t even think about it and don’t try the whole ‘oh, I accidently slipped’ trick because I know you,” You playfully scowled, trying to hide the smirk tugging on the corners of your lips.

Daniel tipped his head back and cackled at you calling him out, revelling in the banter and the fact you knew him inside and out. He’d missed being called out on his shit and he loved nothing more than when you teased him during sex, the laughter ringing off the walls while he watched himself disappear into you.

“You’re tight enough already, baby so no shenanigans tonight,” Daniel groaned and jutted his hips forward, jolting you closer to the mirror in the process. He readjusted his tight grip on the satin dress that he'd bunched up around your hips and caught your gaze in the reflection again, “I bet old mate texting you last night couldn’t fuck you like this, ey?”

“Never gave him the chance,” You panted in reply, eyes trained on Daniel’s as he pounded into you, thighs trembling in pleasure as he stalked you, every little wince or twitch never went unnoticed and you felt hot under his gaze, his hot breath and soft groans fanning into your ear.

“Good. No man deserves you, honey – not even me.”

The little burst of confidence his words gave you spurred you on as you bounced back and met his hips with a slap, quickening the pace and really pushing the limits on how loud you could be in such a public setting. Your voice was coarse and your knees were quivering as Daniel trailed his hands up to your chest, boobs practically spilling out of the satin dress as he bucked into you. He gently pulled down the loose fabric, along with the lacy bra and cupped your breasts in his hands, using them as leverage as he fucked into you. Proudly watching his work unfold in front of him.

The feeling of his rough palms massaging your breasts was enough to cause a loud, pornographic moan to rip from your throat – one that could’ve been heard for miles. One of Daniel’s hands shot up and covered your mouth in an attempt to keep you as quiet as he could while got you off, wanting nothing more than having come undone around his stiff cock.

“Look at how damn sexy you are right now,” Daniel grumbled, eyes trained on yours so intensely. You nodded and moaned into his palm, feeling like your souls were re-connecting as he slowed down the pace and relished the feeling of you wrapped around him, bouncing on that dick so perfectly. He was in paradise.

Until the handle on the bathroom door started jiggling beside you, the loud bang that followed made both you both jump out of your perspiring skin. Daniel’s hand lingered over your mouth, his dick stilled inside you as the handle rattled again – more aggressively this time. The person on the other side didn’t say anything; the only sound swirling around the humid air was bated breath, both of you winded from the adrenaline. And from how exciting it felt nearly being caught with him filling you to the brim.

“Fuck,” Daniel whispered as he looked up at you and dipped his head into the crook of your neck, “Do you wanna keep going?”

The deviant side of your brain was screaming hell yes but the rational voice that kept you level headed was telling you to hit the pause button. It was risky enough doing the deed so publicly, something that you and Daniel never shied away from but right now, when you were both supposed to be at the beck and call of your best friends at their wedding; it all seemed a little bit decadent.

“We should get back,” You whispered, confirming what Daniel already assumed as he slowly pulled out and strategically manoeuvred his semi hard dick into the waistband of his underwear, attempting to hide how hard he still was in those deliciously tight pants.

“Good call… but uh, that was fun,” He stuttered and watched you smooth out your dress, his gaze burning a hole in the back of your head as you looked in the mirror and gently wiped under your eyes; removing any signs that you’d just been fucking your ex in a bathroom.

“Really fun,” You replied, wicked smile lining your smudged lips as Daniel stepped forward and helped you back into his suit jacket.

“We should do it again some time…”

“Absolutely – when were you thinking?”

“Oh, I dunno…” He pondered with a cunning smirk, “Maybe like, now?”

You chewed your bottom lip between your front teeth and sighed; you loved that he wanted you as much as you wanted him, both dying to finish what you started and maybe indulge in even more bad behaviour. It was like old times but different - good different.

“I’m staying in the Cliffside suite so… meet you there in halfa?”

Daniel clapped his hands enthusiastically and rubbed them together, “Sounds like a great fucking plan to me,” He agreed, grinning big and gently pushing you towards the door he was opening for you, looking both ways down the hallway.

“You go first so I can watch you walk away from me in that dress,” Daniel quietly teased as you sashayed down the hallway and back to where the reception was still going strong, “You are killing me!”

“I know!” You shouted back, flipping him the middle finger before spotting Sarah on the dance floor, eyes suspiciously narrowed as you shimmied over to her, smiling like the cat that got the cream.

“Where did you get to?!” She yelled over the music, definitely on her way to being drunk from the flutes of champagne that were still being served by the gallon.

“Just needed to freshen up!” You shouted back and looked over your shoulder at Daniel who had joined a conversation near the bar.

There was a giddy feeling that washed over you after you turned back to Sarah and listened to her ramble about how good the music was and how much fun she was having. It was a familiar feeling; the same one you had the night you met Daniel all those years ago. But now, in his home state, surrounded by so many people you loved, you had both been gifted the rare chance to start over.

To fall in love all over again. This was your second chance at a happily ever after.

a//n – thank you for all the support and patience on this one! thoughts? feelings? i wanna know all of them! or click here for more of my writing x

[afro-hispwriter]

Satoru Gojo x reader x Kento Nanami

Warnings- established polyamorous relationships, slight angst, this has quite a bit of nanago so if you don’t like it… scroll, the fushiguros make an appearance, homophobia mentions, insecurities(if I missed anything please let me know), set early 2014

A/n- I have a wild imagination and I absolutely hate what I wrote. Fuck Gege.

wc-2.5k+

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Nanami never wanted to be home more than now. Another day full of his obnoxious boss and equally obnoxious coworkers. 

Nanami turned the key and pressed the button to the penthouse floor. He leaned against the back of the elevator. The dinging of the ascending numbers and the gentle music calmed him down. The doors opened and his ears were instantly hit with the sound of laughter. 

“Satoru, pay attention you’re making a mess!” You squealed, followed by Gojo’s laugh. 

“Just open your mouth a bit wider. I know you can ba- NANAMIN!” Gojo yelled out and more rice flung everywhere. The long-legged man zoomed around the island and almost knocked the blonde down with the force of the kiss to the man's lips. You spun around the stool before stepping down. 

“Hey, Ken.” You reached up on your toes and pecked the businessman's lips when Gojo pulled away. Your hands went to his tie and you undid it. “Work okay?” 

“As good as it always is.” He says with slight sarcasm and turns his head so Gojo can peck him on the lips and Gojo walks back to the stove. “You’re cooking?” He looks down at you as if silently asking if it is serious.

“Yup! We’re having fried rice with edamame and teriyaki tofu!” Gojo says proudly. 

“He insisted. Don't worry, I have been watching him the whole time.” You pat Nanami’s shoulder and he sighs. “Go change.” Nanami bowed his head before walking off to your shared room. 

Megumi's door was slightly open and Nanami gave it a small knock. 

“Yes?” He pushed the door open. 

“I just wanted to ask how your day was.” 

Now while Nanami has no desire to act like a parent to either Fushiguro sibling. He still lives with them so he does try to build some sort of bond with the kids. 

“Fine.” 

“Good.” Nanami turns to leave when Megumi speaks again.

“Has that idiot burned the kitchen yet?” Nanami fought a chuckle and shook his head.

“Surprisingly not. Yet.” His mouth curved up slightly and turned back to his TV. 

Nanami walked down the hall even more and Tsumiki walked out of the bathroom. They bumped into each other and Tsumiki looked up. 

“Oh sorry Nanami but hi!” Tsumiki says and wraps her thin arms around the man's waist. Nanami rubbed her back softly and softened his face. 

“It’s alright Tsumiki.” She stepped back. 

“I painted today in art! Do you want to see?” 

“That's good, show it to me at dinner.” Her brown eyes twinkled and she nodded happily. 

“Okay!” She ran off to the dining room.

Nanami walked into the large room and started shredding the clothes of the day. He hung up his blazer and placed his tie gently in the drawer with his others. His shoes were placed on his rack in between yours and Gojo’s. His shirts and pants were thrown in the large hamper. 

He put his at-home casual attire on as well as a pair of socks. Nanami’s phone rang on the side table and he peered over to see his boss calling. He closed his eyes and sighed before picking it up and accepting it. 

“Hey Hey Hey Nanami!”

“What do you want?” He says bluntly. 

“No need for the attitude man just calling to tell you we are having an office party Friday!”

“So tomorrow?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Yep! And it’s mandatory but you can bring as many people as you like. I know you have a woman.”

And a man

He could have told his boss about his true relationship(you stopped by his job to drop something off and when you left Nanami got pestered about you). But his boss has expressed his dislike for many relationships that weren’t heterosexual or monogamous. The three of you already face so much due to the higher-ups not agreeing with the relationship, and you and Gojo having issues with them beforehand doesn’t help. 

It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his relationship but he preferred to keep it private. He tells people he's single if it's a stranger or he will say he is in a relationship and say no more.

While Gojo tells anybody with no care and you only tell someone if the conversation calls for it. You’ve even dropped a few people if they express their dislike, if possible.

But he just wants to keep you and Gojo safe from the shitty world. 

“Mandatory?” 

“Mandatory.” 

Nanami sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time this week.

“I’ll see what happens.” He instantly hung up on his boss threw his phone on the table again and walked out of the room to go back to the dining room to wait for dinner. 

-

Tsumiki saw him first and she jumped down from the tall stool and ran to the fridge where a painting hung. 

“Look Nanami!” She held the dried paper up to him and took it immediately. It was a good painting since Tsumiki always had an artistic side. 

“Very good. Your blending is spot on.” He handed her the paper back and she smiled again at his approval. You grabbed Nanami's bicep and pulled him in.

“You’re such a softy.” You kissed his chin softly. “Such a good dad.” You teased and he rolled his eyes. 

“I'm not their fa-.”

“Just a mentor blah blah blah.” You cut him off and kissed his chin. His dark circles were even more prominent today. “Almost Friday.” He sighed and closed his eyes. 

“Almost Friday.” 

“You guys are making me jealous.” Gojo pouts as he starts his plating. 

“Well hurry up, then we can all cuddle.” 

“Blegh.” Tsumiki grimaced and you let out a giggle.

“When you grow up you’ll want to do the same thing with your significant other Miki’.” She put a weird look on and shook her head.

“If growing up means kissing and hugging boys. I don’t want to.” The 13 year old says and the two men in the room nod in agreement. 

“Yeah, that’s my girl.”

“That is a smart choice.” 

You roll your eyes and Gojo then drops the spoon he was using.

“Tada!” He shook his hands in the air and looked down at the plates. 

“It looks really good!” Tsumiki says and leans over the counter to look closer.

“It may look appetizing but it may very well not taste like it,” Nanami says and you swatted his chest. 

“Be nice. I'm sure it will taste great Toru.” 

“At least ‘Some’ people are appreciative.” He says and stares down at Nanami making the blonde sigh deeply. 

“Megumi!” You yell so he can come join you for dinner. There was no response or any noise. “Megumi Fushiguro!” Still nothing. You sighed and started to unravel from Nanami but Gojo intervened.

“Sit down beautiful, Daddy Satoru’s got this.”

“Please stop calling yourself ‘Daddy’, it's never going to happen,” Nanami says and Gojo frowns and glares at the man. He had that look on his face that he was saying something to himself. A quick tap into his mind from you and you gasped. 

“Satoru Gojo!” He cackled a laugh and walked away. 

“What did he say now?” Nanami asks unamused. 

‘He said, I can make you call me daddy’ 

Nanami’s eyes widened in shock and he scowled. 

“Can I know?” Tsumiki asks.

“No.”

“No honey.” 

-

If someone had told Nanami he would be dating Satoru Gojo and Y/n L/n two years after graduating jujitsu tech and helping guide(parent)two kids the sorcerers “adopted”. He would laugh in their face. But as he looked at all the faces around the table he wouldn’t trade it for anything. This has been the happiest he had been since Yu. 

“So how is it?” Gojo asks as he watches everyone eat. 

“It's pretty good.” You say. 

“Is there any left? I want to take some tomorrow.” Tsumiki asks and Gojo nods happily. 

“It is sufficient,” Nanami says contently.

“Aw, thanks Nanamin. What about you Gumi’?” Everyone turned to the boy at the end of the table. He looked around and shrugged.

“Fine.” He mumbled and took another bite. 

“You know what, I'll take it.” Gojo shrugs, making everyone(besides Megumi)chuckle. 

-

Megumi and Tsumiki started their homework in their rooms and Nanami started the dishes. 

“Hey, handsome.” You circle your arms around his waist and reach up on your toes to dig your chin into his shoulder. “So me and Toru were thinking-.”

“Uh oh.” 

“Oh stop it. How about we send the Fushiguros with Shoko tomorrow so we can just have the night to ourselves? Then we can be as loud as we want.” You whispered the last part and nibbled his ear lobe making him tense. 

“Tempting but about tomorrow.” He turns the faucet off and turns around. “My idiot boss called me and told me there was a mandatory party tomorrow.”

“Oh? That's fine too, I know you won't be there long so we can wait for you.” Nanami took a deep sigh and closed your eyes. 

Is this me betraying our relationship?

“I can bring-.”

“Great, I've never actually been to your job Nanamin.” Satoru’s voice comes through. “I just got a new Prada shirt I can show off.” 

“Gojo.” Nanami's heart started racing and he clenched his fists. Gojo placed his hands on your hips and pulled you back into him. 

“You can wear that pretty skirt with those platform red bottoms.” 

“I wouldn’t be going to the club, baby.” You chuckled. 

“I think Y/n should be the only one to go,” Nanami says, and you and Gojo pause. 

“Huh? Why not both of us?” You asked confused but before Nanami could say something, Gojo spoke first. 

“Because they don’t know about me, they know about you two.” His shoulder slumped and you frowned. 

“Is that true Kento?” The blonde couldn’t help but nod, making Gojo scoff. 

“I know you’re a private guy Nanami, but we’ve been together for almost 2 years. How are you still ashamed of us? Of me?” 

“What Satoru- I'm not ashamed I just-.”

“Just what?” Satoru raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, blue eyes piercing into him. 

“Okay, can we just go sit on the couch and talk?” You suggest but Satoru shakes his head. 

“No, we can talk right here. Explain Nanami, why don’t you still want people to know about us even after all this time.” He got closer and closer to the blonde and you stepped in.

“Satoru, it's alright to keep it private.”

“Easy for you to say, his job knows about you. Nobody would look twice with you two if you walked on the street. Our boyfriend is too ashamed to be seen with me, with both of us if it doesn’t look like we’re just some friends out.” His voice was starting to break. 

“Satoru. I'm sorry I just- I just want to keep both of you safe.” 

“Safe?” Satoru asks and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Kento, me and Satoru can protect ourselves just fine.”

“That’s not what I mean. I know you can protect yourself, but that’s physical. I refuse to subject you to the harmful judgment there would be.” 

You and Satoru stayed quiet and then shared a look. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask and he sighs. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now and I was just scared. You two and the kids are the best things in my life, and I don’t want to lose any of you because of others.” There was a pregnant pause.

“Fuck.” Satoru says and rubs his face. “I admit I shouldn’t have jumped at you, guess I've been holding down my feelings. I'm sorry Nanamin.” 

“No, I should have talked to both of you earlier, treated the two of you out somewhere, and told people we are a couple with no fear.” Gojo took a long stride over to Nanami and kissed the blonde's nose.

“Aww see, communication works.” You smiled brightly and Nanami splayed a hand behind your back and pulled you into his side. 

“You are always right.” He pecked the side of your head. 

“I know.” 

“And you guys say I have an ego.” 

“You do my love, but we love you for it.” You reached up on your toes and kissed him on the edge of his mouth. Nanami sighed and raised his hand to rest on the back of Gojo’s neck. 

“I love you.” The blonde molded their lips together and Gojo’s eyes fluttered shut. 

This is what his love is and he hopes it isn’t a dream. 

-

Now a really bad attempt at Juju Stroll🤩

“What about this one? 7 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, and a pool?” You ask.

It was a holiday in Japan. All schools were closed, Nanami’s job closed, and neither you nor Satoru had been called for any missions. 

The three of you were lounging on the couch. You and Nanami are on your laptops searching for a house. While Satoru has taken the liberty of laying across both of you. His knees and below were hanging off the edge so his thighs were on your lap and acting as the laptop stand. All while part of his upper body was on Nanami's thighs so most of his was Nanami’s laptop stand.

He didn’t care what house you two chose, just as long as it was far enough from Gojo Estate. He was simply the guy with the money to get said housing at the moment. He just had one request. 

“Does it have a fence?” 

“Uh.” You looked at the screen. “No, it doesn’t.” 

“Then no.” Satoru closed his eyes. 

“Okay, that's the fourth house you’ve rejected for not having a fence. Tell me why it needs one?” Satoru opened one eye to look at you. 

“For a dog.” You frowned and cocked your head to the side. 

“We have two.” 

“Not everyone can see them!” Satoru exclaims and shoots his hands in the air, knocking Nanami’s laptop stumble. 

“This one has 7 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, an indoor pool, and is close to both schools and my job.” Nanami chose to ignore Satoru's no fence complaints and moved on. 

“But there’s no-.” Satoru started but Nanami shushed him.

The blonde stared at his coffee mug on the table and moved his laptop to the side. He then leaned forward. Giving Satoru a face full of buff titty. But what he did next was just the pure urge of- 

CHOMP

Nanami’s eyes almost burst out of his head as the pain rushed through his left breast. 

“Gah! Gojo!” He spit his coffee out and reeled back making Satoru release him with a smirk. 

“What happened?” You ask looking at your lovers. 

“H-He bit me.” Nanami clutched his chest.

“Oh.” You had to stifle a giggle.

“Sorry Nanamin, they were just there.” Satoru reaches out to grab his boyfriend's chest but gets them slapped away. 

“You’re sleeping on the couch.

“HUH!? It was just a bite, you love it when I bite you!”

[reveluving]

Graves and his shy wife who accidentally calls him daddy and his ego gets all puffed up and happy! (I just think as a nickname it's so cute- like Marilyn Monroe always did 🤭) if it's not your thing please ignore!

Ehehehehehehehe 🤭💗💗💗 – Reve, 2023.

Includes: use of 'daddy' in a non-sexual way, humour, & a shiba inu.

COD x shy!wife thots closed! Thank you, everyone, for your time & amazing minds! I sincerely hope I can do this again with y'all soon! 💌

Come & check out my COD m.list!

"Don't take too long, daddy." 

The name just slips, I imagine, because even as a joke, you, yourself, are taken aback by the fact that you said it in the first place, maybe even more than your own husband. 

But while you're mortified, he's elated! Like, really elated.

Daddy. Yeah, it's got a nice ring to it, only because it's coming from you.

The silence is killing you, and you only dare to look back at him when you hear his footsteps approaching. He hugs you from the side, pulling you to his chest as he smooches your cheek. 

"Won't take long," He releases you, takes his car keys and heads for the door but not before adding, "I promise!" 

He then closes the door to pick up the dinner he had ordered for takeout as if he didn't just leave you in your own thoughts, speechless and stupefied that he took it so well. 

Too well.

But you know what would make this cuter? If this takes place in the same AU where his Shiba Inu, Kai, exists.

If Daddy Graves and Mama Graves exist, then why not Pupper Graves? 

Imagine him coming home from work/buying groceries or whatnot, and then seeing Kai in the living room chewing on a toy, but not you.

"Where's y'mother?" He casually asks the pooch as he places his stuff on the table and amazingly, Kai understands. Perking up at the mention of you as he rushes past him to the dining room, where you're chilling with a book in hand. 

You're not surprised by Kai's sudden appearance, already used to his zooming tendencies around the house. You place your book down to pet and squish his cheeks, unable to resist his cuteness, "Hey there, buddy." 

You are, however, surprised to see your husband come in with an all-too-delighted smile. 

You stand up, holding your hands together with a cheeky smile as he stands in front of you, chest to chest before greeting him meekly, "Hi."

"Hi y'self." He chuckles before attacking you with a flurry of kisses, especially focusing on your neck as it elicits squeals and laughs out of you.

But Kai doesn't like it when the attention's not on him.

So, with his sudden need for zoomies, he bulldozes into Graves' legs before running out of the dining room with excited pants. 

"'The Hell–! Kai!" Graves scolded, still holding onto you as the two of you looked at the Shiba Inu running left and right in the living room. He sighs, knowing where his dog's possessiveness over you comes from, but the giggles he hears from you make up for his demise. 

Other instances would include; "Be a good boy and give this newspaper to daddy, will you?", "Be good at the park with daddy, okay?", and "Kai, you really need to stop running into daddy's legs."

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

[bloodandtime]

roommate!eddie pt 2

okay, finally posting part two to this. thanks for your patience on this!! been depressed busy lol also once again if this is bad i simply don’t want to know

cw:  18+ mdni, noncon voyuerism again (it’s still wanted, just not explicitly stated), (m&f) masturbation, wet dreams, accidental boners, eddie’s exasperated, drug usage briefly mentioned (it’s just weed), fem!reader, chubby/plus size reader implied!! um i fink that’s it. let me know if i missed anything. oh this is all in lowercase cause i suck lol this is also not really edited so godspeed to you all 

nothing drastically changed after the first incident. eddie had been more skittish than usual, which is saying something as he is a jumpy little thing to begin with.

he felt guilty for getting off to you getting off and he couldn’t very well tell you that, (well he could, but he doesn’t know he could). eddie could barely look you in the eye the first few days after, avoiding you at every turn. you thought he actually might implode when you ran into him in only a towel. 

he was out when you got in the shower so you didn’t bother with clothes. while there had been no ulterior motives that time, that’s not to say you didn’t start to tease eddie. 

you’d been holding off on jumping his bones because you had wanted to be sure he wanted you. sure, you’d heard him get off at the same time as you but maybe it was a coincidence. 

so when he finally started acting normal about two weeks later you decided to test the waters. 

you started off small. wearing a big shirt and no pants one evening. 

“everything okay?” you asked while floating around the kitchen, making dinner. eddie was frozen in the doorway, just getting home from work. 

you avoid his gaze, butterflies swarming in your stomach, heat in your cheeks. you know you’re right, you know he wants you but that doesn’t fix your insecurities. 

while moving back to the stove you catch eddie shaking his head, as if to wake himself up. his voice soon follows, albeit strained.

“yeah, sweetheart. i’m good.” eddie, was in fact, not good, “whatever you’re making smells great, i’ll be right back.” 

he zooms away so fast you’re surprised you don’t see a smoke outline of him in his wake. 

well, that was either a really great reaction or a terrible one continuing on with dinner, you don’t see eddie again the rest of the night. 

(he’s jerking off, but you don’t know that)

a couple days pass and he hears you get off again. he hasn’t heard you since that first night. He doesn’t know if you haven’t gotten off at all (unlikely) or if maybe it was just a one off thing that he heard you. maybe you usually wait till he’s not home, but he hears you tonight and you’re not exactly quiet about it.

he’s in bed, sat up against your shared wall, hand palming his cock through his boxers as he listens. through the wall you’re moaning so loud your voice rings crystal clear in his ears. he thinks about what you look like when you’re cumming, a sheen to your skin, chest heaving, a slick mess at the apex of your thighs. 

he imagines his cum dripping down your thighs and groans. that image of you is all the motivation he needs to shove his boxers down his thighs and start jerking off. he’s not kind about it, trying to get off at the same time as you. spitting into his hand, he starts a brutal pace, his other hand reaching down to massage his balls. 

as he jerks his cock, he thinks about you on top, the way you’d look holding down his wrists, using him as leverage to grind into him. your tits in his face, the feel of your tummy pressing into him as you lean down to kiss him. he whimpers, feeling himself teetering on the edge.

a high pitched whine reaches his ears from your room and that’s all he needs to fall over, cumming all over his hands and stomach, he works himself through it until he’s whimpering. what he doesn’t know is that you’ve heard him again too. leaning against your shared wall listening to him work his cock. 

you both sit there, in your respective rooms, out of breath and yearning for one another. 

days pass and eddie’s not as openly weird about it this time. he is able to look you in the eye and hold a conversation, which you think means some sort of weird progress. 

it’s finally your day off, and all you have planned to do is absolutely nothing. binging whatever show and lounging on the couch.

to be fair, eddie wasn’t home again so you weren’t originally trying to tempt him, but you did improvise. he comes home to find you asleep on the couch and he thinks he may just actually die. 

you’re passed out on your stomach, one leg hitched up, face squished against the pillow while snoring softly. you’re only wearing a shirt and panties. your shirt rests above the curve of your ass, the soft cotton of your panties on display. 

he comically bites his fist to avoid groaning as he makes his way over to you quiet as eddie can be, to try and rouse you kindly. 

eddie crouches down, knees to chest, his fingertips a breath away from your shoulder when you moan.

he’s immediately frozen again.

this cannot be happening, you cannot be having a wet dream.

your hips start to move as you let out a breathy sigh, grinding down trying to find friction. 

eddie leans his head to his knees and softly sighs, trying so hard to move himself away. leave the room and do the right thing and go. 

but he can’t, not when you look like this, not when you sound like this. so pretty and soft and sweet. so he lifts his head, watches and listens. 

his eyes rake up your body. your doughy thighs on display, and if he moves leans his head just so he sees the bump of your cunt. a gasp escapes him. 

you’re soaked, folds stuck to the fabric. he stares too long, burning the image in his mind. forcing his eyes away, he follows the curves of your body, takes in every inch of flesh exposed by your rucked up shirt. when his gaze follows the slope of your shoulder to your face he inhales sharply. 

your eyes are open, you’ve been watching him watch you.

“eddie,” teasing, voice sticky with sleep “what are you doing?”

he looks down, avoiding your gaze, brain racing to find an excuse. he doesn’t think sorry! was watching you have a wet dream will cut it.

“was just coming over here to wake you up, cause i didn’t want your neck to hurt after sleeping on the couch.” he says all in one breath, nails tapping a rhythm onto the coffee table absentmindedly. his eyes bounce around the room, avoiding. 

you roll over and sit up, legs stretching out in front of you. eddie sits on the ground, between the couch and the coffee table where he still taps a rhythm, facing you. 

“that’s sweet eddie, thank you.” you say, genuinely, smiling. he is kind, even though he’s telling a half truth. 

his eyes flicker back to you at your thanks, the rhythm stops. he follows the curves of your form to your face, once again.

stopping at your thighs squeezing together, to where your belly peaks out from your shirt, soft and plush, to where your tits rest naturally because eddie can’t catch a fucking break.

“so, how was work?” you ask. closing your eyes as you lay back down and stretch out, you softly moan. eddie feels his cock jump, he makes himself turn away.

“oh you know,” he’s can’t look at you, he’s breathless, “same shit, different day.” 

you open your eyes and nudge his shoulder with your knee, his band tee soft against your skin. 

“oh come on, eddie” you tease, “i know you have more to say than that.” 

he can’t help but laugh, meeting your gaze he flushes. 

“i get it. i talk too much.” sighing dramatically as if you’ve fatally wounded him, “i’m sooooo sorry,” he’s all sarcasm.

as he’s talking you lean up, scooting so you’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch. you let your right leg fall to the floor, your clothed cunt now in eddie��s direct line of sight. he stares, not breathing.

you nudge him with your foot, playing dumb.”really? nothing else? no shitty customers? nothing about your annoying coworkers?” 

eddie scrambles to his feet, hands in front of his crotch, red in the face. “oh that reminds me! i offered to let my coworker borrow a book,” eddie stumbles as he walks backwards to the hall, squawking, he continues, “he closes tonight so i’ll just swing by now.” 

he’s speaking louder now, almost to his room. “i might actually stop by the store too!” there’s shuffling, a loud crash and several fucks! sworn by the time he finally comes back into the living room, book in tow. 

you’ve now pulled a blanket over you, dejected. turning your show back on, you wait for eddie to leave before you move to hide in your room. 

he doesn’t notice the anxious look on your face, so focused on getting out of there before i burst in my pants! 

eddie flies to the door, and tells you to text him if you need anything while he’s out. the door’s not even shut by the time you’re off of the couch, sulking back to your room.

eddie sits in his (newer) van to calm down before he leaves, unable to get the image of you out of his head. crushing on his new roommate was not in his plans. 

 he’s definitely convinced you’re flirting with him though so it’s not one sided, he hopes. he wonders if he should test the waters, see if you actually want him. 

what if you didn’t know your pussy was right in his face? he knows how ridiculous that sounds. 

he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, been the butt of a prank too many times that he catches himself mistrusing his intuition. 

although he’s grown, he can’t always shake his insecurities, but he wants to put himself out there. for you. his mind continues to race as he drives back to work. 

you, on the other hand, were wallowing in bed. you felt like you were being pretty forward. your pussy was in his face for christ’s sake! while the rejection hurts, you’re worried. maybe you  came on too strong? he seems interested in you, he certainly couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

smoking a joint and taking a bath to relax, you plot your next big move. deciding that if he doesn’t make a move this time. you’ll drop it.