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#I really had no idea what his reaction would be when I told him. like obviously he’s not homophobic but
piss-bread · 2 days
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Yo Danny Fenton he was just 14...
He was 14. He definitely had an unusual relationship with his parents, but not too far out from a normal teen. He's embarrassed by them in public, but he truly loves his family. And they love him, in all his nerdiness and cowardice.
Then the accident happens. His parents (and Jazz) know that something happened, but only his friends know what he went through that day. Even after Jazz finds out, she isn't told exactly what occurred.
Tw under the cut for Death Mentions! It is Danny Phantom, after all.
It's a well-known fact that Danny Fenton is Schrodinger's boy. Both alive and dead. And the fandom sure does put our favorite paradoxical anime boy through some shit, but it's not talked about a whole lot the absolute horror of his death.
We see a recreation of what happened in Memory Blank (Season 2, Ep 1). We've been rewatching some of this show with our mother, and we had her watch this episode. I had told her beforehand that Sam basically went "the boy needs to die" as soon as she realized that Danny didn't have his powers. And surprisingly, after watching the episode, our mom agreed that Sam really should have thought of something else. But anyway, it really cements the fact that going into the portal was Sam's idea. Not Tucker's. Not even Danny's. Sam is absolutely the one who got him killed. Yet Danny doesn't harbor any resentment. In fact, it's shown in the same episode that Danny looks for reassurance from Sam (and Tucker) after getting his powers, quite literally asking if it's cool that he has powers.
Quote from me to my mother:
"Danny walks around a dark portal, and he accidentally turns it on from the inside. He gets electrocuted and basically watches himself die, not knowing what's going on except for that it's bad. He stumbles back out, knowing something is very wrong and passes out. His friends think he's dead, he literally phases through Sam's hands as she tries to pick his body up, and when he does wake up he's faced with the fact he's a ghost. he's been told that all ghosts are evil and dangerous, and now he is one. Yeah sure he must've figured out he could change back pretty quickly, but still."
And something else. Vlad has powers too, but he didn't die for them. He got a bad case of ghost acne and gained powers that way. I feel like if Vlad knew what Danny went through, he'd at the very least have a bit more respect for the boy.
Anyway, I love the characterization of Tucker and Sam. It's shown that Tucker is shallow on the outside, but he truly deeply cares for his friends. Sam is shown to put up walls around other people, to the point her friends know a completely different person than the outside world does. And damn, I wish we could see the two's reaction to the accident in the show. But we'll just go headcanon-ing for this one. In my opinion, Tucker would be the quietest he's ever been. He's shown to cower and close up when bad things happen (when he's actually aware of said things). I think Sam would be the one screaming. I think she'd be screaming and crying and just let her emotional state consume her until her friend wakes up.
That's it for now 👀 count on more text posts in the future tho
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luvjunie · 10 months
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earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?
— facetime
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pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader
contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol
summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537
a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot
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“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“
“that is literally you trying to control me.”
you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.
you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.
you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.
“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”
“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.
“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”
while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.
since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.
miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.
so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.
you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”
he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.
“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.
what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.
“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.
his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.
he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.
“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.
“and watch your mouth.”
chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.
“yeah, you’re right. we are.”
thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.
“bet.”
____
you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.
you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.
you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—
“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”
the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.
“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.
he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.
“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”
you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.
“window. you should really lock that.”
“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.
“true.”
his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.
you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.
“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.
he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.
“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.
“do you know what boundaries are?”
“nah, not really.” he admitted.
you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.
“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.
he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”
you sighed.
this boy was going to be the death of you.
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- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
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random percy headcanons:
wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.
literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck
his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)
he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it
will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs
the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.
he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it
percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao
back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone
has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on
weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like
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shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao
bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺
can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao
gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.
movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(
percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake
he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it
has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks
grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic
has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.
he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao
he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence
called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week
the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured
has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him
he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.
he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class
currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!
its his birthday<3
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vixstarria · 5 months
Text
Intimacy
Hello friends, have some soft Act 2 Astarion.  
Astarion’s struggle with sex and intimacy. Connected with my other fics but is a standalone, per usual. 
Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, soft Astarion 
Hurt/comfort, some fluff if you squint, love, angst, mutual pining, Act 2 spoilers, some fairly softcore smut 
Approximately 1,600 words. 
“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he told you. You’d replayed that conversation over and over countless times in your mind, since.  
You had no idea what you were doing either. Oh, navigating an ordinary relationship was simple enough, and you’d had your fair share of those – even if they’d all ended in disappointment at best, so far. Being with someone who’d just escaped 200 years of abuse, however... That was something new.  
“I don't think I want you to think of me in terms of sex.” 
Well that was a fuck-up. He was walking sex. ...Most likely due to sheer force of habit, so necessary for survival over all those years, but still.  
“I love you.” 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...  
You were in over your head too. Completely. Hopelessly. In love with this catastrophe of a man.  
What were you to do with him now?  
Wait for him to take the lead in every physical interaction? It wasn’t in your nature to be so passive. He knew this. And you were sure he would love to be treated like spurned glass all of a sudden.  
Continue as you were? Even though now all you could think about was whether a touch might bring up a repulsive memory? Assume that you could singlehandedly overwrite centuries of disgust and loathing, overnight? How presumptuous and overbearing that would have been. 
Communicate? Ask? Listen? Sure. Absolutely. You did. Or tried, anyway. You were about as good at talking about these things as he was. And you didn’t really trust him to be completely honest at this point. Whether with you or his own self.  
And so you explored. Slowly, cautiously and attentively.
 
The most innocent touches seemed to bring him an inordinate amount of joy. You weren’t surprised.  
Passing him a vial of poison for his weapons and letting your fingers brush and caress one another’s, briefly. Wordlessly running a stray hand along his waist and planting a quick kiss under his ear while you walked past him as he stood talking with someone. Lingering with your foreheads or noses touching lightly after a kiss.
 
He leaped at any opportunity to massage your sore muscles or help you apply a salve, and you let him. It seemed he wanted to take care of you, and was working out all the ways how.  
He still pleasured you in different ways, at times.  
“You don’t have to...” 
“I want to,” he said. 
He just chose to keep his own pants on, now. You weren’t sure about his motivations. Could it be guilt? Or a misguided sense of self-worth? Did he still think this is all he was good for? Or, maybe you were completely overthinking it, and he was still just desperately horny, even if taking a step back. He was more present than before though, you could tell that much. 
You considered his reactions to other forms of touch, careful not to make your observation obvious. 
He hated being scratched. The entire area of his back covered in scars was off-limits for anything but embraces. He enjoyed playful bites, both giving and receiving. And more than anything, he loved holding you close, feeling as much of your body at once as possible, basking in its warmth.  
In turn, you were more than happy to wrap yourself around him when you could. 
“Why do you even like this?” he asked, apprehensive about it at first. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I can’t give you any warmth.” 
“I can give you mine,” you said, simply. “Besides, you obviously don’t remember what it’s like to lie in a puddle of sweat with someone who runs hot. This is a nice change.” you added after a moment of contemplation.  
You meant what you said, but you were dying to drag him into a hot bath, just to know what it would feel like for him to be warmed through. Maybe you’d get the chance once you got to Baldur’s Gate.
 
There happened to be a private room available at Last Light Inn that night. The group unanimously agreed that you and Astarion would take it, while the rest of your companions bunked in the common. 
“For Shar’s sake, piss off, none of us want to see or hear you two,” were the exact words of their blessing, delivered by Shadowheart. Karlach sanctified it by throwing a (deftly dodged) half-eaten apple at Astarion’s head.  
“Especially not hear!”
 
“I know this may come as a shock, but I’m actually not too fond of beds,” he said. 
“New memories, Astarion,” you shook your head. “Beds are non-negotiable. I wasn’t too fond of rutting in the dirt either.” 
“I’ll never grow tired of how poetic you are,” he smiled, unceremoniously throwing his gear on the floor. “New memories, you say?” 
A while later, you were straddling Astarion’s hips as he sat shirtless on the edge of the bed. 
“You know, you never did tell me what you like,” you sighed, your fingers in his hair as he kissed your neck.   
“Oh, what does anyone like? It’s all the same in the end,” he said, running his hands along your thighs. 
“That’s not true,” you murmured in his ear. “I can show you some things that are pretty unique to you right now,” you said and ran the tip of your tongue along the lower inner edge of his ear, making him shudder and let out a small moan.  
“You little devil, when did you figure that out?” he breathed.  
“When I happened to brush your ear a while back, like this,” you giggled, repeating the hand movement on his other ear, making him catch his breath slightly again, “and you just about started purring.” 
He just chuckled in response. 
“So what other secrets are you hiding?” you purred, kissing around his ear. “I might just need to kiss and caress every inch of your body to find out.” 
"Sounds like a terrible chore,” he said, falling back onto the bed and pulling you with him. “You don’t want to do that.” 
“Shut up and let me cherish you.” 
You kissed down along one side his neck, slowly, taking your time, pausing to lightly lick or nibble on any spot that made him hitch his breath. He was putty in your hands by the time you reached his collarbone. 
“Just don’t go any lower,” he said breathlessly. 
You hummed your agreement. You couldn’t handle going any lower yourself – you were completely intoxicated with the scent of his skin and the sound of his sighs of pleasure, if you went any lower, you would keep going, and you didn’t think it was a day for that yet.  
You continued up the other side of his neck instead.  
You hesitated for a moment before your lips reached the bite marks left by Cazador, but Astarion made no indication that he didn’t want you to keep going, and so you continued. He let out a soft whimper as your lips brushed the scars. 
“No?” you pulled back slightly, your hot breath still on his skin. He was lying with his eyes shut, head thrown back, neck completely exposed to you. 
“Yes...” he whispered, hoarsely. “Very yes... Softly...” 
You continued, lingering with your lips on the scars, as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, snapping them against his own and grinding you against an unmistakable erection. 
“I want you to make those marks your own... Yours and no one else’s...” he rasped. 
This is probably a mistake, you thought, but you could barely help yourself as you moaned into his neck and ran your tongue over the scars, making him growl and grind you into himself harder. The friction, the knowledge that he wanted it too was driving you mad.  
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop that,” you begged. 
“Go ahead,” he groaned. 
“Not without you.” 
Something in the energy changed then, and you lifted yourself off him, sitting up. Astarion stayed on his back a moment longer, before exhaling and also raising himself into a sitting position. You were still on his lap, facing him.  
“Listen,” he took your face in both hands, looking into your eyes intensely. “I want you so fucking bad, it hurts. I want to tear your clothes off and ravage you until you’re speaking in tongues. I do.” His voice was hoarse. He paused, before continuing. “But even more than that, I want to remember this, remember you, and not have any of the dirt from my past mixed into it. It’s difficult enough to keep it at bay as it is.” His eyes teared up at that. “And right now, for now, this is the only way I know how to do that.”  
“I’m sorry.” Tears sprang from your eyes. 
“No, you sweet idiot, you haven’t done anything wrong. I love you.” He gathered you in his arms, kissing away your tears as his own started to roll down. He sighed. “Great, now no one is coming, and everyone is crying.” 
You both burst out laughing as soon as those words were out of his mouth.  
You held each other a while longer, him stroking your back, before you broke the silence. 
“So the bite scars are pretty erogenous then?” 
“Extremely. Use that knowledge at your own risk and peril, darling.” 
He lifted your chin for a kiss. 
“Shall we go piss everyone off for a while, maybe steal Lae’zel’s boots, then come back here for more ‘memories’?” he asked.  
“Sounds childish and dangerous. I’m in.” 
You needed to clear your head too.  
Maybe tomorrow would be the day one of you would get closer to knowing what it was you were doing, and tell the other. Until then, at least you were in it together. 
~~~~~ 
The “I love you” is not canon for Act 2, but it is my headcanon, damnit.  
Like what you just read? Huzzah, there’s more! - Series master list
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ohbother2 · 2 months
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hi i’m helluvapoison!! (also a side blog, so APPARENTLY i can’t send asks with it? rude, tumblr) anyways i wanted to say you’re amazing, phenominal, show stopping. i love your writing so. much.
i humbly request a nsfw lucifer/ reader (however you feel like formatting it) where he tries to cancel date night because reader looks too good, he’s gotta have em then and there. reader takes this and runs, spends the evening riling him up and maybe making him beg for it, if you could? i love sub luci but wanna give you creative freedome as much as possible
ok ok i hope you have a fantastic day buh bye and keep being amazing!
You're making me blush srsly
Also I absolutely loved this idea and couldn't help but immediately start planning a fic around it - I absolutely love how your mind works
This is kinda long, and is part 1 of 2 (sorry), but I personally much prefer the build up and think it needs enough time to really get going (wink wink) to make the pay off worth it
*ahem* not quite smut? It's toeing the line tbh - Minors DNI
Lucifer x f!reader - He Wants to Cancel Date Night
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It wasn't a particularly significant day that Lucifer had chosen to designate your upcoming date, he had simply picked a random free day in his calendar, asked you if you were free, and then giddily instructed you to doll yourself up nice and be ready for 7pm to go out for dinner. He hadn't told you where you would be heading, but when Lucifer did decide to take you somewhere purposeful for a date, and not just take you for a leisurely stroll and a candle-lit picnic, he always went full-out, so you knew to dress to impress.
It had been a while since your last date night, the two of you often prioritising your time together and trying to organise something at least every two weeks. Due to both of your busy-ness with reconstructing Charlie's new hotel project after the last extermination, and the exhaustion that settled into your bones and muscles after a long day of construction, it had been a month since your last 'official' date.
Yourself and Lucifer had been dating for several years by now, but the early-stage giddiness remained, and you still loved impressing him when you dolled yourself up, and you honestly lived for his reactions when you wore something particularly nice. It had been a while since you had both indulged yourselves as a couple, and tonight, you wholly planned on blowing him away with what you decided to wear, and hopefully a lot more.
You had missed him a lot. Unbeknownst to you, he had missed you much more, and he himself had spent an embarrassing amount of time getting ready for tonight.
You currently sat at your vanity table, makeup and hair products strewn about its entire surface as you fixed up the finishing touches of your makeup in the large illuminated mirror attached to the desk. Your hair had been styled in an elegant updo, with curled strands of hair framing your face and caressing your rosy cheeks, not a strand out of place after the many hours you had spent perfecting the look. Your whole outfit had been coordinated purposefully, with the intention of wearing a ruby and gold jewellery set Lucifer had gifted you on your first anniversary, a favourite of yours, and a set which never failed to grab his attention. The elegant ruby pendant sat snug against your chest nestled amongst a gold chain, with a pair of ruby and gold earrings dangling from your ears to match. You adorned an equally vibrant ruby dress which cinched tightly at your waist and hugged your bust enticingly, clinging to your hips tightly and its hem digging lightly into your upper thigh. You pucker your rouge lips in the mirror, ensuring an even application as your bright eyes focussed intently, framed with smoky eyeliner and shimmering gold.
You stare at yourself contemplatively, scrutinising your appearance and tugging at a strap of your dress. You had no reason to be nervous, you were already dating the King of Hell, and he took every opportunity to show his devotion to you, but butterflies still swarmed in your stomach as you readied for the date, desperately wanting to impress him. In your eyes, Lucifer was a devastatingly handsome man, with the beauty of an angel despite his fallen status, able to sweep you off your feet with a disarming smile and his silky-smooth voice. He was an amazingly attentive and caring partner, and you could never ask for someone as understanding or perceptive, and god he really did still have the same effect on you, the butterflies only swarming more in your stomach as you thought about the blond man.
Speak of the devil: you jump lightly when you hear a gentle knock at your front door, and you give yourself one final glance in the mirror, a hand carding through a lock of loose hair before you respond.
"One second, Luci!" You call, prepared for him arriving a few minutes early, as he always did, standing from your seat and grabbing a small clutch-purse and a pair of gold heels from beside your bed as you hurry out into the hallway.
You place the items in your hands thoughtlessly on the staircase in the hallway, pausing before the door to straighten your dress, tugging the hem further down your thigh minimally and taking a deep breath before your hand lands on the doorknob. You swing the door open with a little too much enthusiasm, but the staggering smile that greets you has your worries subsiding as Lucifer beams at you, both of his hands rested atop his cane as he waits expectantly.
He had dressed himself incredibly well, a white suit with a burgundy shirt and pin-stripe burgundy waistcoat cinching at his unfairly trim waist, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean physique. He had abandoned his hat for the evening, and you feel your breath leave you at the way he had styled his blond locks away from his face, not a strand out of place and curling around his ears as he smiles oh-so-innocently, the apples of his cheeks rosy and pronounced with the way his grin stretched across his face.
Within his own mind, Lucifer was having an internal battle as his thoughts devolved to a jumbled and rather sinful mess at the sight that greeted him, your bright smile and rouge lips having his heart stammering in his chest as his fists enclose around his cane. You looked positively other-worldly, and the many compliments and greetings he had at the tip of his tongue die in his throat as his gaze flits up and down your body, not all that subtly. The dress left little to the imagination, and his gaze follows the long curve of your legs hotly, the shimmering stockings you wore seemingly accentuating your height. His gaze finally lands on the pendant nestled between your breasts, and a primal heat gathers in the hollow of his stomach when he immediately recognises it as the one he had bought you all those years ago. God, he loved when you wore his gifts, and he's even more ecstatic to see the matching earrings as his red gaze finally returns back to your face, a vision of beauty greeting him, looking far too happy to be in his presence as you smile lovingly.
"Angel, you look positively stunning." He immediately compliments you, bending at the waist and taking a hold of one of your hands in his gentle grasp, pressing a long, purposeful kiss against your knuckles, refusing to breaking eye-contact the entire time. You smile down at him, closing the door behind him as you comment.
"I love your new suit, it's unfair how handsome you are." He practically preens at the compliment, grinning at you as he leans against his cane, trying to make himself look as big and enticing as possible.
"I just need to grab some last minute things, if you wait in the living room I won't be long."
Ah yes, the date, he had nearly forgotten about that. You really did reduce him to a useless, thoughtless, mess. He hums as you walk past, eyes shamefully travelling down your torso as you walk away, not leaving your figure as you bend down to grab your heels and clutch from the staircase. Your dress really did leave little to the imagination, not that he had to imagine. He pulls his gaze away before you turn back around towards him, and he purposefully strides into your living room, pretending that he definitely was not just checking you out shamelessly, and that his throat definitely wasn't growing tighter and dryer with every second.
It had been so long since you both had been able to spend some much needed quality time together, usually spending your days around the habitants of the hotel as you worked, and then just returning home and collapsing into respective heaps after the many hours of labouring away to make Charlie's dream come true. He really was looking forward to this date, and he had been beyond ecstatic to be able to spend so many hours with you, and only you, after so long, but now that the time had finally arrived, he truthfully didn't want to leave these four walls.
Truthfully? He wanted to absolutely ruin the makeup and hairdo you had doubtlessly spent hours on, and he wanted to be out of his brand new suit as quickly as his hands would allow. He tries not to stare too openly when you enter the room, breathing in deeply at the strong smell of your newly sprayed perfume, watching with slitted eyes as you fuss around in a drawer, looking for something he didn't think you needed. He already knew it as soon as you had opened the door and knocked him back on his ass with that dazzling smile; he did not want to go on this date, he wanted you, and hopefully, you felt the same.
"I've missed you so much sweetheart." He practically purrs as he steps behind you, cane left leant against the back of the sofa as his hands land on either of your hips, chest pressed against your spine as he watches your reflection in the mirror hung above the side table. Your gaze flits up to meet his in the mirror, but your hands remain searching as you smile gently at him. You can see the way his eyes are heavy-lidded, his lilac-hued eyelids more visible than before as he stares into your own bright eyes intensely, and you immediately know where his mind had headed.
"I've missed you too, I'm so glad we've finally got a night to ourselves." You mutter, enjoying his warmth pressed along your back, tucking the little comb you had been searching for into your clutch. "You're not being subtle, I know that look."
"What look?" He questions coyly, and you can see his mischievous grin over your shoulder as he props his chin against you. "I'm simply in awe of your beauty." He presses a kiss against the column of your throat, and your head tilts to allow him to press another open-mouthed kiss just beneath your ear. "And can you blame me?"
"Luci," You warn, turning in his grasp. His hands follow your movements, now resting against the small of your back as he grins at you, practically nose to nose. "we have a table booked."
"I'll re-book for another night, it's me, they'll fit us in whenever." He comments, prideful as ever. One of his hands comes up between your bodies to play with the ruby pendant nestled between your breasts, a finger running along the jewel and using the chain to pull you minimally closer.
"I've spent hours getting ready." You practically whisper, you can feel his breath fan across your neck as he studied the pendant.
"And you look absolutely ravishing," He purrs, eyes matching yours once again. "so this is all your fault really." He leans in for a proper kiss, but you turn your head so that his lips land against your cheek.
"You'll get my lipstick all over you for the dinner." You were finding it increasingly hard to tell him no, especially with the way his gaze heated across your face, sultry eyes enticing you invitingly.
"I don't mind." He hums, and you feel his grip tighten against your waist. "In fact, I think I'd love to be covered in your lipstick."
"What happened to the gentleman who was at my front door not only five minutes ago?"
"I am a gentleman!" He defends, smile quickly delving into something devilishly cheeky as he comments. "I'd return the favour, put your lipstick on me, darling, and there won't be an inch of you left uncovered."
You laugh to dispel the tension in your chest at the image, and how sinfully enticing that notion was. At the same time, Lucifer begins to laugh, commenting how 'gentlemanly' that action would be.
"You, are terrible." You push him away gently, and he follows your hands with a childish frown he doesn't even bother to conceal.
"If I ask nicely enough can we stay?" He leans back against the back of the sofa, puffing out his chest in the way he knew you loved. "I'm not a Saint, I don't think I can make it through a meal with you looking like this."
"Like what?" You ask deftly, enjoying toying with him as you begin fastening your heels.
"Like I could just eat you up." You immediately know what he's insinuating, and the point is only proven more with the way he cups his chin with his hand as he watches you, fingers placed purposefully either side of his lips. Anyone else wouldn't pick up on the concealed gesture, but you know him better, and you narrow your eyes at how hard he was chipping away at your resolve.
You had half a mind to just say yes, hike your dress up and have some fun right in the middle of your living room. But no, you had been looking forward to this meal for weeks, and you rather enjoyed the idea of toying with him throughout the meal - really, if he didn't want you to tease him all afternoon, he shouldn't have come across so desperate so quickly. You'd get your revenge for all this teasing, you definitely would, and it made it even better that you knew the thought wouldn't even be crossing his mind yet.
He grins to himself as he watches you closely, an idea forming in his head. "Let me help with your heels, at least."
"No." You comment quickly, beginning to tie the second golden heel.
"Wha- why?" He questions, sounding offended.
"Because I know you, and before I know it you'll be under my dress and we won't make it to our dinner."
"I can indulge in a little starter, I bet you're much more delicious-"
"Luci, you are-" Your words cut off at the shit-eating grin he adorned, clearly enjoying riling you up. "making this incredibly difficult."
"Is it working?" He all but sings, wiggling his brows as you step towards him, now a little taller than him with your heels fastened. He was having far too much fun at your expense, and you couldn't allow that. He looks up at you with a ridiculously fond smile, which only grows when your hands smooth the lapels of his blazer.
"Maybe." You hum, and you avoid his lips once again by pressing a single long kiss underneath the crook of his jaw, your left hand cradling the back of his neck to keep him in place. He sighs out a moan, relaxing back into the sofa and hands clenching against the fabric behind him, believing that his persuasions had finally won you over.
"Really?" He asks as you pull away from his throat, still tantalisingly close. Your eyes don't linger too long, but the bright red lipstick stain has you fighting away a grin at the achievement. And to think, he was none the wiser. He sounded so hopeful, and you nearly back out of your plan. But no, you were looking forward to this meal, and you were looking forward to making him suffer for the next few hours even more.
"No, now come on, we're late."
"What?" His voice immediately loses all of its confidence, a shattered whisper as he watched you with despondent eyes. You could see the way he deflated as you pull further away from him, beginning to head towards the door. His hands were still gripping the back of your sofa, but this time to keep him propped up at the devastating news. "Darling, that's evil. We can't leave now!"
"Patience, baby." You reprimand, and he pouts playfully to hide the disappointment in his chest. "Good things come to those who wait."
"Good things could be happening right now." He tries to reason, voice low as he tries to encourage you to change your mind. He was still propped against the sofa, and you hesitated at the doorway to the hallway, looking back at him with a torn look. You had made up your mind, however, and he wouldn't win so easily.
"Are you coming? Or am I attending our date alone?"
"Fine." He groans, picking up his cane and twirling it in his hands to try and distract himself as he follows after you, pausing in front of the mirror to check his appearance. He had spent a long time on himself, after all, and next to you he needed to look every bit the charming devil. He doesn't really intend to pay too much attention to himself, but the pronounced cherry-red lipstick stain pressed under the crook of his jaw in the unmistakeable form of your lips has him nearly snapping his cane in half as soon as he spots it.
"Sweetheart!" He calls immediately, voice an octave higher than it had been a moment before. You grin to yourself as you shrug on your sheer shawl, knowing he had seen your little gift. His head pokes around the doorway, and you can see how his eyes have widened to the size of saucer-plates as he hurries towards you, knuckles of his left hand white against his cane as he reaches for you. "You can't do that and then drag me to dinner." A hand reaches for you, but you're already opening the door with a laugh. "We're staying."
His hand misses you as you step outside, and he pauses at the front entrance, glowering down at you with a tight jaw and furrowed brows. He tries one final pathetic attempt. "I feel ill."
"You're a bad liar." You laugh, holding a hand out, waiting to take his arm expectantly, and you can see how he works his jaw as he realises he really had to go to this meal. "We've got all night to ourselves, you'll survive for a few more hours."
"I don't think I will with such a pretty thing on my arm." He mutters more to himself, but you still feel heat creeping to your cheeks at the compliment. Your resolve wins over, however, and Lucifer locks your door and pockets the key before offering out his arm, beginning to lead you towards an awaiting taxi. Oh, tonight would be fun, and the best part was, Lucifer had no idea how much fun you were about to have.
---
The drive to the restaurant had gone smoothly, and Lucifer had guided you to an incredibly elegant restaurant, far outside what you would attend by yourself, nestled deep within the centre of the Pride Ring where those with wealth and status liked to play and mingle. Lucifer had practically glowed with pride when you had openly gasped in the restaurant's foyer, and had kept his hand on the small of your back the entire journey to your table; a booth directly next to the inside balcony that looked over the lower two floors of the restaurant, with a great crystal chandelier hanging parallel.
Now, you both sat at opposite sides of the table with a menu each, a bottle of some expensive-sounding wine placed in the centre of the table and your glasses filled. Lucifer was happily chatting away, meanwhile you had been storming your mind to begin enacting your revenge.
"-I don't know why he's so stubborn about it! He's literally the embodiment of lust, how embarrassing can confessing feelings be after, after doing that." Lucifer pulls a face as he sets down his menu, wafting his hands about as he continues. "It's ridiculous! And after the way he treated me when I was panicking about asking to court you! That man is the biggest hypocrite in all of Hell, and I should know."
"He's probably just embarrassed, Luci." You hum, still looking over your own menu. "Sure he's the embodiment of lust, but being sexually attracted and emotionally involved are two completely different things."
"They've been sleeping together for years by now, surely someone must have let something slip during all those times. He's told me about everything they've done, despite me not even wanting to know, and they've done some, some absolutely-" He hesitates, searching for the correct word. "'questionable' things. I mean, you can't do all that and remain," A pause. "indifferent."
"Physical attraction is a lot more removed, I think." You comment, resting your menu against the table and looking over at him. "It's a lot easier to just be interested rather than involved, you're putting your heart on the line not just your pride. Like, as an example, we slept together way before we ever said 'I love you'."
"But I-" The blond's face pinches slightly, as if remembering something embarrassing. "I knew I loved you before we even got together, so that doesn't count."
"You didn't tell me though, that's the difference." You smile softly at him, heart swelling at the little confession. His sweetness really was making you rethink your plan for the evening, but then you remembered the way he had prepositioned you to skip starters altogether in the taxi in favour of something else, and your sympathy quickly dies. "If Ozzy actually says the words, Fizz could say no-"
"He won't, that man's even more obsessed than Ozzy." Lucifer slumps a little in his chair, looking at you hopelessly, as if you had all the answers to his dear friends' worries. "I don't know how much more of his pining I can take, I might have to confess for him at this rate."
Throughout the entire conversation, you had been slowly shimmying yourself lower in the booth you sat on, which was incredibly hard with the way the skirt of your dress tugged against the soft velvet fabric beneath you, trying not to accidentally flash yourself as you worked. Now that you were low enough down, but still looked as if you were sitting upright, you slowly reach your right leg out, uncrossing your legs to give yourself some extra reach. You nod along to Lucifer's lamenting, smiling distractedly as you search for his legs underneath the table with your own.
Finally, the tip of your heel brushes against a soft fabric, and your smile brightens for seemingly no reason as your foot hovers near Lucifer's ankle, tapping against it gently, once, twice. If he notices he doesn't indicate it, carrying on with his complaining, now having moved onto Fizz and away from Asmodeus. Your foot rests gently against his calf, pressing minimally into the light white fabric as you respond to him.
"And how long did it take you to confess to me, hm?" Your head tilts as you smily cheekily, and Lucifer pouts when he realises exactly what you were about to say. "If it's longer than whatever they've got going on, I think you deserve to be his confidante. I'm sure you put him through it yourself."
"I-" He sighs, unhappy with the reality. "But it's- it's so painful watching them! I think it pains me more because it's Asmodeus. If anyone in hell has the courage to do something like that, it's him."
Your foot inches higher, slowly, and you're now midway up his calf. He's still too enraptured in his own friends love life to realise.
"He's the embodiment of lust, not love. This is as far out of his comfort zone as anyone else."
Your foot continues to inch higher, and as Lucifer thinks with a slightly downturned lip, you heel presses inward towards his knee.
"I'd argue they go hand in hand! I don't see how-" He suddenly stops talking, eyes honing in on you and lip falling into a firm line. "What are you doing?" You continue to smile mindlessly, watching as he stares at you contemplatively, hands fiddling with his menu as he becomes startlingly aware of exactly how high your foot had managed to inch.
"Whatever do you mean?" You tilt your head innocently, foot inching upward again and resting on the inside of his calf, just below his knee. "Has the wine gotten to you already?"
You jest with a jovial smile, but Lucifer is staring at you as if he had just managed to crack the Rosetta Stone, skin paling under the warm glow of the candlelight, and mouth falling open slightly. Realisation of what this night would be hits him like a tidal wave, and he stares hopelessly as he finally understands your eagerness to come to the meal. His eyes were large and lightly panicked, and that panic only increases when your foot shifts higher, pressing into the side of his knee playfully.
"Y/N, sweetie, you can't be serious-" He sounded like a man who had just figured out he had been sentenced to deaths row, and he certainly looked as if he had just received the news. ''you- you told me later."
"I'm not doing anything!" You grin devilishly with your chin rested atop your interwoven hands, and in that moment Lucifer knew he was in for a world of trouble. He stares at you tensely, silently pleading with you to let him enjoy the meal in somewhat peace. It was hard enough looking at you, nevermind with your foot inching higher and higher and beginning to press pleasantly against the lowest part of his inner thigh. "So, do you think Fizz will confess first?"
"I think coming to this restaurant was a mistake."
"I'm really enjoying my time." You chirp around a laugh, grinning as he shifts in his seat, your foot beginning to rub against his inner thigh slowly, up and down, each caress inching higher and higher. "Relax. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself once the food arrives."
"I think I should've locked the door behind me when I arrived and kept you in the living room." He laments to himself, and you have to hide the way the comment has heat rushing up your neck. No, you were playing with him tonight, not the other way around. To prove a point, your foot presses harsher into his thigh, and you watch as he glances at his lap before settling his sight back on you.
"It really is a beautiful restaurant, and you booked a wonderful table, so secluded. Very romantic."
"I think you're enjoying this too much."
"Oh, I am."
The smile you send him has him nearly standing from the table, grabbing your hand and dragging you from the restaurant and into the nearest alleyway. It was a look that promised so much more than he had planned for this meal, and the fact that it was aimed at him had him sweating under his collar and regretting his teasing earlier in the night. He really was at your mercy, and he knew that you were aware of that, and that you had no intention of making this meal easy on him. He glowers at you from across the table, more upset with himself than you: he should've begged harder at your doorstep.
The waitress takes that moment to return with a smile and a writing pad, asking about starters and entrees and how you both were finding the wine. Lucifer goes to open his mouth to cancel the afternoon but you are two steps ahead, as always, ordering your meals with a sickeningly sweet smile and then redirecting your attention back to him, who now has to order food he doesn't even want for the sake of saving his image.
"-and I was wondering about the bourguignon, is it possible-" He nearly smashes his knee against the top of the table when you press the toe of your heel to the highest point of his inner thigh, grazing dangerously against his bulge and tugging his trouser material taut. He splutters for a moment, making a show of clearing his throat to hide his absolute shock, and clears his throat as he attempts to smile at the concerned waitress. "Ah, sorry, I'm a little under the weather but we've had this meal planned- anyway, could I please have that w-without-" His voice audibly warbles when you rock your foot slightly, pressing directly into the side of his bulge and continuing to watch the interaction with a grin. He has to clear his throat again. "without mushrooms please."
You continue to toe against his bulge as the waitress recites your orders back to you both, his hands clenching against the edge of the table as he attempts to nod along to whatever the waitress was saying. His hips attempt to shift away from your agonising touch, but you only stretch your leg further, pressing harsher and continuing to rock at that agonisingly slow pace.
"Excellent, thank you." He maintains his unsteady smile until the waitress is long gone, and then he's staring at you and breathing a little harshly as your foot continues to rub against him.
"Darling-"
"You look stressed, baby. Is something wrong?"
"Is this why you wanted to come to this meal? Just to toy with me?" He sounded like a woman scandalised, and something in his jaw twitches when you drag your foot back to the curve of his knee, before caressing as far in as you could reach.
"Depends, is it working?" You parrot back at him from earlier, and he takes a deep breath as he realises this was entirely his own fault.
"Of course it is."
"I thought you wanted to indulge yourself before our starters? Relax, indulge yourself."
"This-" His voice cracks again when you completely leave his thigh and toe directly against the centre of his problem, rocking up and down instead of side to side. His shoulders tense as his legs instinctively part at the contact, knees spreading slightly despite the agonised look he adorned. "isn't what I had in mind."
"Huh, this is exactly what I had in mind."
"Think about this," His breathing had become slightly harsher, and his hips twitched when your heel tugged the material of his trousers a little too tight, a dull pleasure slowly spreading that he was desperately trying to ignore. You laugh loudly at the desperate way he had already begun to plead, and to think, your starters hadn't even arrived yet. His voice drops as he whispers at you. "you want me walking out of here with ruined trousers? Because keep this up and keep looking at me that way and that's what's going to happen."
"I've barely done anything Luci." You shake your head feigning disappointment, foot stopping its ministrations and just resting right against his centre. "But don't worry, it wouldn't be much of a punishment if I did."
"Punishment?" He whispers bewildered, leaning forward in his seat and across the table to emphasise his disbelief.
"You're too pretty to throw yourself at me before our meal and expect me to just get over it." You tut, grin widening as he continues to gawp. The rosy hue of the apple of his cheeks had darkened considerably after the compliment. Oh, this was too easy. "If I have to spend the rest of this night in," You pause, leaning forward and dropping your voice to whisper seductively. "ruined underwear," A pathetic little sound catches in his throat, and you grin wickedly as his hips twitch against you. "I think it's only fair I have some fun."
"We could've stayed, I could've taken care of you." He really did have the sweetest way of wording things. In reality, he was envisioning you pinned beneath him on the sofa as his tongue and fingers set to work, and he was growing increasingly infuriated that he wasn't doing just that right now.
"You've not even let me kiss you yet." He begins, a hand reaching out to caress yours across the table, and you tilt your head playfully when you feel his breath fan across your face. "Isn't that punishment enough?"
"And you won't if you don't start behaving." The way your voice had taken on an authoritative tone has heat climbing up the nape of his neck, and his fist clenches tighter against the fabric draped across the table. "How can you expect me to behave when there's such a handsome man pleading with me? You're the gentleman, you should woo me until a much more acceptable time in the evening. This is a date, after all, where's the gentleman who asked me to come here?"
"You killed him when he saw you wearing that sinful outfit."
"Pity, because he won't see what's underneath until he returns." Lucifer can feel himself twitch within his trousers and it takes a great degree of self control to stop a whine from leaving his dry throat. You really had no idea just how you were effecting him, and he tugs at the collar of his shirt to try and get some air to the nape of his neck, he was surely going to combust soon.
You couldn't leave it there, and your fingers caress his own outstretched hand as you release the killing blow. "Understand?"
"God," He groans around a shuddering breath, pupils dilating as he shifts back in his seat. His trousers were growing increasingly uncomfortable, and the heavy weight of your foot against him made him startlingly aware of how little control he actually had. "yes."
"Good." You grin, completely unfazed by the entire conversation. Lucifer, however, had taken on a rather sickly complexion, with his cheeks and neck startlingly red against his pale pallor. You immediately steer the conversation in another direction when you notice the waitress heading towards your table with your starters, and the blond's despondent look as you begin chattering about something else has your ego inflating and satisfaction brewing in your chest. You were right, this was going to be a fun night.
---
You had let up with your teasing throughout the starters and the wait for the entrees, and Lucifer had returned to a far healthier appearance than before. He hadn't fully recovered, however, with his own imagination running off and assaulting his mind with downright sinful images as he tried to focus on his food and converse with you. Currently, he was rather lost in a fantasy of ducking under the table, pushing your underwear to the side, and actually eating something he craved, and not relenting until you had finished every scrap of food on your plate. He had had to shrug off his blazer, which now lay neatly folded next to him, and his burgundy shirt sleeves had rolled up to expose his forearms and try and get some cool air to his heated skin.
Yes, you had relented with your teasing, but you had given his mind all that he needed to have him thoroughly wrecked for the rest of the evening. He was doing a poor job of controlling his thoughts, and truthfully he didn't want to.
"Mmm." You hum, bringing the first forkful of your meal to your lips and humming as the flavour reached your tongue. "This is amazing, I don't think I've ever tasted anything better."
He watches with heavy eyes as you bring another forkful to your mouth, and his chest raises when you make direct eye contact with him as you moan again, a quiet little sound that no one else in the bustling restaurant would hear, but that he could pick up on like a gunshot through a forrest. He watches as you do the same again, and his forked tongue comes out to lick across his lips as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, gnawing on it as he thinks about the sounds he could entice from you if you just let him. This time, you hum slightly louder, making a show of playfully rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you close them, savouring the flavour on your tongue. Lucifer has to spread his legs under the table to make room for the half-hard bulge he'd been fostering that was now beginning to grow again. He loved you, but you were a cruel woman.
"Not hungry, Luci?" Your question was innocent enough, but all he could envision was throwing the plates to the side and dragging you on top of the table to have his way with you. Reputation be damned, he would do so if you gave him the nod.
"Positively starving." His voice was uncharacteristically low, not even sparing his food a glance. He hadn't even picked up his cutlery yet.
"Your meal looks great, I'm kind of jealous. If we ever come again I think I'd order that."
He wasn't paying attention to a thing you said, instead watching as your hands wrapped unusually around the top of your wine glass - a fancy looking tall slender intricately designed glass that emphasised the restaurant's heightened status - taking a negligent sip, and then placing it back down onto the table. You didn't place it down normally, however, and you watch Lucifer closely as your hand remains clenched around the glass, stroking all the way down to its base before tapping a polished nail against it. You can see the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly, and you twist your wrist and hand around its base before letting it go.
"Everything okay, baby? If there's something wrong we can send it back."
"You," He takes a deep breath to compose himself, his nails digging into his palms as your foot resumes its gentle caresses against his inner thigh in some semblance of a comforting notion. "are something else, sweetheart."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"And I think you're going to kill me before I can ever ask for the bill."
"I'd hope not, I've been looking forward to dessert all day." You purr, foot once again resting in between his legs. His eyes nearly roll at the contact, and his fists clench tightly around the cutlery he had just picked up as his mind absolutely runs with the possibilities after your meal. "Something sweet, I think. Apple crumble, maybe?" His gaze snaps from the piece of meat he had just skewered with his fork to your dark gaze, the gold framing your eyes glinting enticingly and churning his stomach. "I think I'd rather just have the apple, really."
His hips involuntarily jolt towards the pressure of your heel against him, and the food he had brought halfway to his mouth is thoroughly forgotten as you grin at him from across the table, taking another sip of your wine.
"I-" He stammers, scrambling for the suave flirtatious version of the King of Hell as he tries to muster a response. "that can definitely be arranged, darling."
You smile as he finally begins eating his meal, seemingly intent on finishing it as quickly as possible, but that upturn of your rouge lips turns dangerous when you decide he was rushing this meal far too fast. This was an expensive restaurant with some of the finest foods in hell: he should savour it.
"Ah!" You yelp in surprise, your knife 'falling' from the table and clattering against the floor. "Sorry- you distracted me." You lie not that convincingly, but Lucifer is too distracted in his own mind and too prideful that his stumbling attempt at flirtation has you so flustered to question your behaviour.
You smile at him innocently as you lean down, commenting loudly about how you couldn't see the knife as you lower yourself completely from your seat onto your knees and under the table. You wait a moment, spotting the knife immediately and crawling over it as you reach for Lucifer's legs, your cheeks hurting with the size of the grin that stretched across your face. Both of your hands come to rest on both of his ankles, gripping them firmly as he jolts, pinning them apart as you hear his cutlery clatter from above you.
The darkness under the table is suddenly illuminated as he tugs the table cloth up, a pair of wide bright yellow eyes immediately gazing down at you as your fingers slowly travel up his shins.
"Darling, what are you doing?" He all but hisses, but his voice is high pitched and airy and resembles more of a desperate whine than a genuine question.
"Shh." Your hands rest on either or his knees, and you push them further apart as he gapes down at you. "Continue eating, I won't be long."
"No, no." He stammers, but his legs fall open easily. You can see his eyes jerk back up to survey the little entrance to your secluded booth, terrified of being caught. "Please, don't. I can't do this."
"Yes, you can." You encourage, hands resting heavily on his inner thighs, feeling the heat of his legs from beneath the thin material. "All you have to do is sit pretty and be quiet. I've got the rest."
"I can't." And as if to prove his own point, a choked wet sound catches in his throat when you prop your cheek against his knee.
"You're right," You contemplate, and he breathes a sigh of relief that quickly withers in his throat when he sees that you have no intention of coming out from under the table. "you have to keep talking or someone might get suspicious. Tell me a story."
His mouth falls open in disbelief, but you tug the table cloth from his hands and push it up against his lap to fully hide what you were about to do. He stares doubtfully at the white tablecloth that hid you from view, fists clenching atop the table as he swiftly regrets ever trying to convince you to stay at your home.
"Sweetheart, please-"
"I'm not leaving until you tell me a story, so you better make it a quick one." He doesn't move for a moment, and neither do you, but your nails dig into his thighs when you hear him pick his cutlery back up with a tense sigh.
"I don't- God, I can't think with you-" He mutters quietly, voice hitching when your palms slide up, fingertips caressing his prominent bulge straining against the white cotton of his trousers. You press a kiss to his inner thigh, careful not to leave a lipstick stain behind, and you grin when he moans and spreads his legs, hips pushing closer to your searing touch.
"The hotel? I saw you arguing with Alastor earlier." You offer helpfully, a palm resting flat against the outline of his dick and fingers curling around him horrifyingly lightly. You twist your wrist slowly, featherlight touches caressing through the white fabric as your other hand snakes lower, cupping his balls and squeezing.
Another choking sound, and you can feel the way he sucks a deep breath into his lungs.
"Y-yes. He was being his usually horrid self-" You press a kiss against the tip of his bulge, and this time a whine heaves from his throat that he silences by biting into his fist, face twisting in pain as he breathes deeply. He pushes his hips towards you, and your hands grab either of his hips and pin him in place as your brows furrow disapprovingly.
"That's not very gentlemanly of you." You tut, and you know he hears you when a choked whimper reaches your ears. Above you, he shakes his head to clear his thoughts, blond locks beginning to unravel from their neatly combed style as he steadily loses his composure that he had been clutching to all evening. You rest heavily against his thighs and hips, hands clenched into his belt loops and preventing him from shifting as you gather saliva on your tongue.
"Uh- He was moaning about some- some furnishing-" His voice cracks when you lean forward, licking a defined line straight across his length. He can't feel the wetness, but he knows exactly what you did.
"Honey, please-" He had stopped trying to barter with you altogether, plainly begging in that small voice you loved, breath hitching around every word.
"You've not finished your story."
"Ngh-" He groans to himself, panting and staring at his half eaten plate. It is then he realised your plate was completely empty, you didn't even need the goddamn knife. His shoulders and neck are impossibly tense, and his jaw aches with the way he clenches his teeth to stop any more sounds from spilling past his lips as one of your hands leaves his belt to cup his balls once again. "I-I don't want to talk about him while you're doing that."
You giggle to yourself from under the table. He loved the sound, but it was the furthest thing from innocent he had ever heard. "And who else would you rather talk about?"
"I don't." He practically whines, trying to lower his voice back to some degree of normality. "I want you. Please can we leave."
"Oh, no no." You shake your head with a laugh. "You think you've been good enough? You've been nothing less than a mess all evening, not gentlemanly at all."
Suddenly, his hands are gripping your wrists and yanking you from his beltloops, and you're about to tell him off before you hear another woman's voice chattering above you. You sigh to yourself, collecting the knife and beginning to crawl back into your own seat.
You sit back up with a gentle smile, fluffing your hair as the waitress glances at you, a perplexed smile on her face. "Sorry, I dropped my knife. I'm so clumsy it's terrible, isn't that right dear?"
Your gaze finally lands on Lucifer, and your chest expands in pride at how disheveled he looked. The familiar flaming heat had once again licked up his neck and cheeks, both of which were a startling red as he sucked deep breaths into his lungs. His shirt had become slightly wrinkled from the way that he had gripped at his tie, and some of his blond locks had fallen from their neat style. He was still an utter vision of sophistication and charm, but the frays at the edges were beginning to simmer inwards.
"Oh, honey," You feign surprise, but Lucifer's jaw works when he sees the utter lack of sympathy in your eyes. "maybe you really weren't lying earlier, you don't look well."
"I'm fine." He all but grits out, voice having lost some of that chipper charm it usually carried, a muscle in his jaw tense. "I was just saying how lovely the food has been and how I think we're done."
"Ah, yes. It really has been amazing." You smile at the waitress, who had begun clearing the plates away and piling them into her arms. Your gaze shifts back to Lucifer, and his brows furrow lightly in confusion at the sickly sweet smile you sent his way. "We were actually hoping to try some of your desserts? I think we decided on the apple crumble and the cherry roulade, right dear?"
If he hadn't been such a composed man, Lucifer may have started crying then and there. He felt as though the world had been tugged from under him and that he was falling into a baseless abyss, and the little composure that he had been clawing to his chest nearly tore in two as he realised he couldn't say no without looking like an absolutely terrible date. He stares at you with disbelief for a moment, brows raising as he tries to muster the courage to agree with you.
"Uh, yes. If you wouldn't mind that'd be great." He hands the waitress a side-dish, eyes looking incredibly watery all of a sudden. "Thank you."
With a nod and a comment about the time you'd both have to wait for the dessert, the waitress takes her leave, leaving yourself and Lucifer in deathly silence.
Lucifer was staring at you as if you'd just torn his heart from his chest and stomped on it right in front of him, with large wet eyes watching your hopelessly as you continued to sip from your glass of wine, smiling over at him with your rouge lips. For a moment, it looked as though he had stopped breathing altogether, but then his tongue wets his lips and he opens his mouth, a small sad dejected voice coming out.
"When you were talking about dessert-"
"Yes, the apple crumble, I can't wait to try it!" You chirp happily, and it takes all of your restraint not to laugh openly at the way his eyes fall down to his lap despondently. "What happened to your hand?"
His lips purse as he flexes his right hand atop the table, the unmistakeable mark of teeth red and glinting in the candlelight. You can see two prominent fang marks across his knuckle and thumb as you lean across the table, tiny droplets of blood having crusted along their surface. How you wished you could've seen him do that, you cross your legs tightly at the images conjured in your head. Truth be told, your own teasing was getting to you as well. From the looks of it though, Lucifer was crumbling much faster.
His desperate gaze lands on you. You knew what had happened to his hand.
You laugh, a hand coming up to cover your mouth when he doesn't respond.
"I'm sorry." He leans forward as he talks, and your eyes alight with something indistinguishable as he tries to appeal to your better nature. "You have no idea how sorry I am for earlier. I'll do anything- please can we take our desserts home? Sweetheart, please."
Your head tilts, faux confusion flashing across your gaze. "I appreciate the apology Luci, but I don't know what you're apologising for. I'm just carrying on what you started."
"I can't sit here for another moment." His voice had taken on that whiny pitch you loved, and your tongue wets your lips as both of his hands grasp one of your across the table. "Please can we go home."
"Of course," You hum, and he perks up in his seat before you begin talking again. "as soon as we've finished. I've been looking forward to this dessert all month. You've made it this long, one more course won't hurt."
His throat tightens painfully as he continues to grip your hand in his own grasp. The aching in his trousers was becoming unbearable, and to have you deny him after toying with him so openly gave him a sort of whiplash that had him nearly shoving his own hand down his trousers to just give himself some sort of release. He had been wanting since the moment he first saw you that night, and he was so close and yet so far from actually having you.
"Look, dessert's here now. Won't be long."
You both pull away as the waitress approaches, settling the two desserts in the centre of the table.
You immediately tug the apple crumble towards you with a grin, and Lucifer watches with the little self-restraint he had crumpling into an ashen heap as you immediately spoon a hefty helping of apple into your mouth, humming as you swallow. He doesn't even try to hide his thoughts anymore, eyes watching the column of your throat as you swallow, hands weekly pulling his own dessert unhappily towards himself.
"This really is an amazing restaurant Luci." You comment, leaning across the table and watching as he begins his own dessert, your own spoon dancing from your fingertips. "I'm so glad you brought me. In fact, I think this is my favourite date we're ever been on."
He hums at you, eyes squinting playfully as you continue to tease him.
"And you look so good, I can't lie you nearly won me over before we left my house, but I'm so glad I convinced you to come out. I've loved every minute."
You were being downright cruel, and the compliments went straight to the flaming heat in his boxers as he shifts uncomfortably, trying to give himself that tiny bit of friction he desperately craved. He tries to remain composed, despite his flaming cheeks and the sweat that beaded along his back and chest, resting his head on his left hand, munching slowly on the chocolate and cherry dessert. It really was an amazing restaurant, but he hardly remembered any of the food he had eaten, his thoughts and senses completely enraptured by you the entire evening.
"I would love to try your dessert though, it looks like you've ordered the better thing every course." He glances from his plate to you, confused at what you were insinuating. The last time you had spoken about dessert, he had been sorely mistaken, and so he sits, too apprehensive to really do anything for fear or disappointing himself.
You place your spoon down, leaning across the table and pushing your chest out tantalisingly, pearly white teeth visible as you smirk, a hand reaching forward and fingers curling around his collar. His eyes flicker between your sultry gaze and your heaving chest, and yet he remains rigid in his seat, absolutely terrified of raising his hopes.
"Darling-?" He questions softly as you tug him closer, following your hands with ease as your breath fans across his lips.
"Just a small taste."
And then your lips are on his and he openly groans into your mouth as you finally give him what he wants. His hands leave the table ledge to cradle your jaw, pulling you in closer as his lilac-hued eyelids close, tilting your head to give him better access as his brows furrow. Your tongue darts across his lips, and he invites you in willingly, another moan catching in his throat as you hungrily lick into his mouth, his tongue battling with yours as one of your hands clenches into the hair at the nape of his neck. You pull away all too soon, and he collapses back into his seat a red, panting, mess, lips glossy, gazing at you with disbelieving amber eyes, utterly and completely smitten. He watches you pick your own spoon back up from its place on the table.
"The cherry's nice, but I do think I prefer the apple."
As soon as you finish the last spoonful, Lucifer is calling the waitress over and requesting the bill, practically vibrating in his seat as you watch him leisurely. This had been one of your favourite dates, and you didn't intend on letting this be the end of your fun.
---
Tag List - @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @cyberpr1m3 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @froggybich
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lxkeee · 2 months
Text
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
-PART THREE
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: Daddy issues.
Notes: Fun fact... The reason I titled this as two sides of the same coin as I was originally planning on making the reader being Azrael's wife and would be [y/n] Eveningstar as Azrael's last name would be Eveningstar 🧍but decided not to lmao.
PART TWO | PART FOUR | NAVIGATION
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Charlie stood nervously at the podium, angels above her already judging her. Her eyes noticed the door to the courtroom opens, a familiar angel she met awhile ago, an angel that looked like her father. Xavier was it? If she remembered correctly. She watched as the boy flew up and took his position on the other side of Sera, Emily on the other side of the woman, the older woman in between the two young seraphims.
Charlie could feel the [e/c] orbs staring at her as the boy looked down on her (literally as he was sitting above her).
The meeting began.
Charlie was really hoping to win these angels over, hopefully her brother could help.
But she was slowly getting more and more nervous as the boy looked like he was getting bored from this meeting, the meeting clearly didn't meet his expectations.
Xavier just looked down, eyes half-lidded as he looked at the girl with boredom. All he could see is a plan without enough foundation to work, baseless claims that the hotel will work.
What annoys him is that this is the very same ambition his father proposed years ago. He wasn't there during the meeting but his mother told him about it.
The idea is ridiculous. Sinners were given a chance to live an honest and good life but decided to mess it up and now they're looking for a way to redeem themselves?
Xavier was close to falling asleep in the middle of it, suddenly something caught his interest. Emily, Charlotte, and Sera were arguing but Lute and Adam suddenly butted into the conversation and managed to slip up and revealed a secret.
“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month... gotta say I can't wait to... Come down and exterminate you.” Adam says mockingly along with Lute.
Xavier's eyes widened, jaw dropping. Looking around to see if he heard it right and base on the others reaction, he heard it right.
The rest of the meeting went by a blur, another secret was revealed and Vaggie, Charlotte's lover was a former exorcist and is a fallen angel.
Frankly, he doesn't care about that. Xavier can only cover his mouth in shock, still in disbelief that these killings are happening without the others knowing.
Heaven is a lie.
Charlie looked at her supposed brother, a slight surprised look on his face. Clearly in disbelief. She couldn't tell if he's mad or not.
Oh, he's mad alright. Mad that a lie this big has been hidden away.
Beyond furious, Xavier glared at Sera. Charlotte and her lover were teleported back to hell after a snap of Adam's fingers.
Killing of souls, damned or not they have no reason for doing this.
Xavier decided to attend the court meeting, curious what fantastic or foolish ideas his half sister had to show them. He didn't expect that this meeting ended up revealing a very heavy secret.
Currently he is comforting Emily as the girl glares at Sera, “Please, if you start to question... You could end up like Lucifer... Fallen.” Sera says, her voice trembling slightly.
Xavier's glare hardened when the older woman mentioned a certain man he hated, Xavier just glared at Sera as the woman gave Emily a kiss on her forehead, he doesn't like how the high Seraphim is hiding a secret this big.
“Xavier.” Sera calls out to him sternly, the boy just gave the woman a raised eyebrow as his face returns to being emotionless. Sera felt chills running down her spine, Lucifer's face is unfortunately plastered on this boy's face, the fallen angel was his father after all.
“I hope you don't tell anyone about this. Especially your mother.” She pleaded and Xavier scoffs, a slight mischievous smile on his face, “Or what? Gonna cast me out to like what you did with my birth father?” he asked sarcastically, Sera's eye twitched.
“Of course, not. That isn't an enough reason to cast you out. Just... Please don't tell her.” the woman explained and Xavier scoffs.
“I love my mother and I can't bear to lie to her face, she already had enough of that. Just expect that this will reach the seven's soon.” He explained before eventually flying down and leaving the courtroom, not giving the woman a chance to speak.
Sera wanted to reach out and stop the boy but he was already gone, lowering her hand slowly. Sighing. He really is Lucifer's son, stubborn.
After all, the apple doesn't really fall far from the tree.
They're just lucky that [y/n] was able to raise the boy properly and was able to inherit most of his mom's personality. The looks however, are unfortunately from his dad.
Sera sighs again. Mentally preparing about the possibilities of what will happen if the seven virtues' know about this.
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Charlie's mind was a mess after that meeting, Vaggie gave her some time and space to process everything of what happened.
She can't believe the love of her life is a fallen angel and worse, an ex exorcist! She hid something this big from her! And on top of that, she has a half older brother in heaven?!
Charlie groans, going underneath the covers as she lies on the bed.
She knows the older boy didn't lie as he literally had her father's face except for the eyes and height but everything else was an exact replica. Charlie can't help but be jealous, she could tell how much better the boy was compared to her, the boy carried an air of authority around him.
She feels guilty, she's not stupid. Her dad had that boy while he was in heaven and obviously with someone else, another angel.
Charlie wonders what kind of life her half brother is living up there?
What she does know is that the boy harbors some kind of hatred for her and her family. The boy didn't fully express it but Charlie could feel it, the bubbling rage beneath his exterior when he saw her.
She'll have to ask her dad about this later, once she's mentally okay.
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Xavier returned back home, the mansion empty as his mother is away, and they don't have any servants as they prefer a quiet life.
Walking to the living room, his eyes gazed at the large portrait that was displayed on the wall of the living room—a portrait of him and his mom. Him standing at her side while she sat on a regal chair, both of them matching clothes—their heaven uniforms.
His eyes softened, he felt exhausted. Training with his uncle, meeting his half sister, and a secret Sera hid was revealed.
He can't wait for her to come back home, he needed to tell her all about this.
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TAGLIST:
@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen
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eddiesxangel · 6 months
Note
If you ever felt like it, would you be cool writing reader and Eddie; their best friends and they both perv for each other but never show it and she was invited to DND and she needs to rush to the bathroom to literally rub one out and Eddie silently makes his way to see what you’re up to
Just Friends |Perv!EddieMunsonX Perv!bestie reader
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AN: I made it modern just to make it more pervy! hope you enjoy :) ps. If you see any typos no you didn’t 🤫
WC: 3.2k
It’s been almost a year since you and Eddie became friends, you’ve been inseparable since. You and Eddie first met when you were sleeping over at Nancy’s and Eddie was over for a DND session. You had literally run into Eddie, you smacked your face into his chest as you rounded the corner, in your pyjamas no less. You gave an awkward giggle and introduced yourself. You didn’t really recognize him, your lunch periods weren’t the same and he wasn’t in any of your classes. But fate swooped in, and due to that fated night everything changed. 
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Eddie was struck by you the second you crashed into his chest. He had seen you occasionally with Nancy in the halls but never could come up with a good excuse to approach you. He thought you were cute, like really fucking cute. So cute to the point that when you did actually touch him (by accident) he popped a boner the second your sparkling eyes looked into his for the first time. Lame, he knows. He couldn’t believe you had this visceral reaction over his body, but all he could think about was your lips, how they moved when you spoke his name and how you smiled at him. Eddie was absolutely screwed, and he had to do something about it he just didn’t know how. So when you finally approached him at Mike’s one day he seized his one opportunity. Turns out you were really fucking cool, on top of being really fucking cute. 
Eddie wanted to spend the most amount of time with you that he could. He was always asking to hang out one on one. His favourite would be when you would ask him over to your house. He loved being able to have access to all things you. The first time he was invited over he couldn’t believe his luck. In the midst of your hang out, you had to take a phone call in the hallway and you left him alone in your room. Eddie felt like a creep the first time but he had to know. He found your underwear drawer, it was filled with soft cotton and lace. His eyes almost popped out of his head when his hands found your red lacy thong. Pocketing it and slamming your drawer ship when he heard you giggle goodbye. 
The second time Eddie was left in your room you told him you were going to take a quick shower, leaving him to his own devices for a least ten minutes, he saw your book on your nightstand, it had a cutesy little cartoon cover, very girly, he was planning on mocking you when you got back in because who reads romance novels? He opened up to where your bookmark was, and his eyes bulged open when he saw what exactly it was you were reading
His strong hands gripped my bare hips as he pinned me down to the bed. His fingers travelled down to my soaked pussy, slowly and agonizingly circling my sensitive clit. I begged for more but he only laughed, "Only good girls get what they want" he whispered and I ground my hips up into him the best I could, but his hold was too much. "Please' I begged. "Please Sir I will do anything, I want your cock so bad, I promise I'll be a good girl." I cried. He was torturing me...
Eddie could not believe his eyes, he had no idea you were so dirty. His best friend had another side to her that he had yet to see, that he would literally sell his soul to see. Oh to hear you say those dirty words to him that he had just read. He popped a boner just thinking about it. He hadn't time to fix it so he grabbed your cow squishmallow to put on his lap when you re-entered the room in nothing but your pink bath towel. You were literally going to be the death of him. 
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You loved when Eddie would come over, but you also loved being in Eddie’s space. Being consumed by all things Eddie, the decor, the smell, the comfort of being surrounded by him. Eddie let you into his home anytime and all the time, it didn’t matter if he wasn’t home yet, you knew where the spare key was, he texted you he would be home in 40 minutes so you let yourself in and hung out until he got back. 
You walked into Eddie’s room and the urge to snoop was growing. You didn’t know what you were looking for until you found it. Stashed under his mess of clothing was Eddie's laptop. Your hands couldn’t move fast enough to the search history. Luckily for you, he was dumb enough to be logged into everything automatically. You didn’t care that this was wrong, yet you wanted to know if he had been talking to anyone. You hadn’t seen him romantically attached to anyone in the almost year you’ve been just friends. You're sure he would tell you. However, the jealousy gremlin was nipping at your ear; telling you to keep going. 
After being unsuccessful at finding any dirt you continued through the search of his laptop and found a particularly interesting bookmark. You knew this was so wrong and he probably would never forgive you if he found out but you had to know what Eddie was into. 
You clicked on the link and a porn website opened. The video was of a woman solo touching herself, and using very racy language about what she would do to the watcher. It was much different than what you consumed when you were to indulge yourself, but it was starting to turn you on as you examined the naked woman spread out in front of you. Thinking about Eddie and what he would be doing while watching this…in this bed you were sitting on, naked, touching himself to her sexy words. You thought about how big he would be, how those delicious fingers would grip himself. You often found yourself dazing out while staring at his thick ring-clad fingers. Especially when he would practice guitar, and how quickly he could move them without missing a note. Your mind drifted and you found yourself lying down in Eddie’s bed. 
Trailing your hands down underneath the waistband of your jeans, you brought a worn t-shirt that was thrown on the bed up to your nose, it smelled so strongly of Eddie. Your fingers teased your clit edging yourself as you pretended they were your best friends. You thought of how it would be to have him on top of you, how it would feel to have his cock slip past your entrance. You hummed his name quietly over and over until the slam of the screen door made you jump and you snapped out of your bliss. You quickly exited the screen and slid the laptop under the pile of clothes that rested atop the bed before Eddie entered his room. 
A bright smile struck his face when he saw you there sitting in his bed. He was oblivious to what you had been doing seconds earlier. Eddie's mind spun with the scenarios he imagined the both of you in, preferably naked. He never divulged these fantasies, of course, he couldn’t have you finding out about what a perv he was for you, or else you would never let him near you again. 
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Tonight Eddie invited you to watch in on Hellfire because you told him Nancy had a date and you had nothing to do this Friday night. You’d never attended before, you were always busy with Nancy. So when you showed up to game night you didn’t know what to expect. Eddie tried so many times to explain the game to you but you never really understood, there were too many rules and you’d always zone out as you watched his plump lips at work. Day dreaming of them on your lips, or on your neck, or on your pussy.
You walked up the the Wheeler household feeling a bit strange that you weren't here to see Nancy. You were let in by Mrs. Wheeler who was on her way out with Mr. Wheeler for a very rare date night.
"Hey guys" you greeted the group as you made your way down to the basement. 
“Hey, cutie" Eddie greeted back with the biggest smile on his face. 
It truly was a mystery to the others how the both of you weren't picking up one another's signals. You saw Mike roll his eyes after Eddie spoke but you took it like he didn't was his annoying sister's friend here to ruin their ritual. Little moments between you two were clear as day to any onlooker but to the both of you, you were oblivious. Too blind to see the signs because you’ve convinced yourselves that the other one would never share the same feelings. 
You had settled in sitting on the couch behind the DND table so you could give them space without crowding around. Eddie was directly facing you so you could see everything but still do your own thing.
As the night progressed you’d been so turned on by Eddie’s performance. The passion that filled him, the way he deepened his voice, the gaze in his eyes as he described the frightening scenes that played out for the club members. Everything that you lusted for from Eddie was heightened by 100 tonight. Eddie had such a hold over you that he didn't even know about. 
You crossed your legs trying to focus on the tiktoks you tried distracting yourself with however they were not helping because it had been a bunch of thirst traps and sexy excerpts from romance novels. Yes, you were on Booktok and no you were not ashamed of being an avid smut reader. 
Since the distractions were not working and the throbbing between your legs was becoming unbearable you needed to excuse yourself, and quickly. You barely mumbled that you needed the washroom before sprinting to the main floor to find some peace in the powder room. 
You shut the door so quickly you may have accidentally slammed it which altered Eddie's even more. He was worried about you. You'd been squirming on the couch looking very uncomfortable, and then you ran out of there like a bat out of hell. He knew he needed to see if you were okay, maybe you had gotten your period or something? 
Eddie walked up the steps and called out your name but there was no answer. As he rounded the corner he noticed the light coming from under the closed bathroom door. He walked closer and heard your muffled voice but couldn't make out the words. As he approached the door he almost knocked but froze halfway when he heard your voice loud and clear.
"Eddie please" you moaned. Eddie couldn't believe his ears because there was no way this was happening...until you did it again.
"Fuck me please, Eddie right there!" you gasped. Your clit had been throbbing the whole time you’d been downstairs you couldn’t help but relieve it. You were silently watching the secret video you had taken of Eddie while he was commanding the game. It has turned you on so much, and watching it back was even better. Eddie didn’t know what to do. But he had to think quickly because his time was limited. He hesitantly knocked on the door and cleared his throat before he spoke. “ uhhh are you alright right in there?” he stuttered out his words. The knock on the door scared you. You let out a small scream as you ripped your hands away from yourself and up to your chest feeling your heart pounding. How much had Eddie heard? How much does he know you don’t think you’re being that loud? Where are you? Oh shit, maybe you were? 
“Uhhh I’m-I’m fine Ed’s” you managed to stutter. Oh my god, you were mortified. The handle of the door giggled like Eddie was trying to come in. “Come on sweetheart open the door I really need to come in,” he continued on jiggling the door until you unlocked it. Eddie needed to seize this moment. He was never going to have another opportunity like this.
“Eddie I-” You didn’t finish your sentence because Eddie had cut you off with a kiss as he cupped your face while backing you into the opposite wall. “You’re such a little pervert. I know what you think about now when you want to touch yourself, do you think about me and what my fingers can do to you huh?” Eddie broke away from the kiss and started kissing down your neck. All of this was so sudden. You had no idea that this was going to happen when you had left the basement. “I’m not a pervert!” You defend yourself. “No baby? So if I took your hand and sniffed these fingers I wouldn’t smell your pussy all over them?” he cocked his brow. “And I didn’t hear you moan my name twice just now?” He hummed. You had never heard Eddie speak like this, not even in your wildest dreams did you think he had such a filthy mouth. “You want me, baby? I heard you and your dirty words through the door. Do you want Eddie to make you feel good? Can’t get off without me? That's it huh?” Eddie’s cockiness was only making you wetter. “Fuck Eddie I need you I have needed you for so long. Please touch me.” You gasped as his plump lips sucked the delicate skin of your neck.
“Could have just asked baby, I would give you the world” His hand grazed up your leg to the open zipper of your jeans until his calloused fingers found the waistband of your baby pink panties. Your breath hitched as he found his way into your pants, brushing over the short hair of your mound to your slick wet slit. “Oh oh oh baby,” he chuckled darkly “you’ve been hiding this from me? I don’t think you deserve me to touch you, you’ve been very naughty. Tell me, baby, you always get this wet for me? What other dirty things do you do when I’m not around?” Your mind was numb with pleasure as Eddie slowly made contact with your pussy lips. He was being so mean like he was punishing you, grazing everywhere but your clit. “Fuck. Eddie please” you beg girding your hips up into his fingers to get some relief.
“I don’t think so sweetheart” you’ve been a very bad girl. “Have I? You try to spit back. “I recall you stealing my favourite pair of panties. Don’t play innocent Munson. I found them in your room yesterday.” You chide.
Eddie kissed you to shut you up. His tongue pushed its way into your mouth as you moaned in pleasure. Your slippery slick coated Eddie’s fingers as they prodded their way up into your tight hole. “Oh, Eddie!” You sighed. “Fuck say my name again” he growled.
“Eddie!” You moaned throwing your head against the wall. His fingers were so thick. He really knows how to work his fingers. “That’s it scream my name” his cocky smirk hasn’t left his face. All disregarding everyone downstairs, you didn’t try and keep quiet. Eddie watched your chest heave as your breasts raised and fell. His free hand scaled up your shirt over your bra. His hands explored your breasts and he pulled down the cup to free you. His hands worked your nipple and your clit. The way his fingers felt exploring your body only made the feeling in your core build and build. Eddie dipped his head to take your perked nipple in his mouth. You arched your back into him and his warm tongue latched onto you. A soft “Eddie baby” slipped from your lips as you were washed away with the feeling of everything Eddie. You were getting so close so fast, you had already warmed yourself up and Eddie was here to take all of the credit. Not that you’re complaining but the coil in your core was being wound up so tightly you need for it to snap. “I'm so close! please don’t stop.” 
“Oh, so you are a good girl who knows her manners, go on then, on cum for me baby” 
Eddie kissed the sweet spot on your neck while playing with your nipple with one hand and your pussy with the other. Your senses were on overdrive and you were bumming from his words. Your body shook and your release dripped down Eddie’s fingers. A few seconds later after you come down from your high you realize that he was having all the fun and you haven’t touched him yet. You graze your hand down his stomach, to the button of his black jeans. You quickly moved your fingers to unbutton and unzip his pants. You slide down the bathroom wall and get on your knees in front of Eddie. He gathered your hair in his hands and you pulled out his cock. “You’re complaining about me hiding from you when you’ve been holding out on me this whole time?” You don't hesitate. You start making out with the base of his cock moving your way up to the tip. You coddle his balls in one hand and use the other to tease the tip of his red cock. “Fuck” Eddie sucks in a breath. You continue to worship his cock. How could you not? It was so pretty, long and thick, and slightly curved to the right. Hearing Eddie whimpering above you was music to your ears. You loved the feel of the weight of him on your tongue. You swirled your tongue on his tip taking in the taste of his precum before sliding down his length to the hilt. His pubs tickled your nose but you ignored that as you hummed onto his cock. You bobbed your head up and down. It was messy and it was loud. 
“Baby fuck fuck fuck if you keep going like that I’m-” Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before he came down your throat. The hot thick liquid ran hot down your throat. “Shit I’m sorry I’m sorry” he panted as you continued to suck him dry. Humming in satisfaction. Eddie finally loosened the grip of your hair as you pulled back and opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue to show him you’d swallowed it all. Eddie’s eyes went wide, he hadn’t expected you to be so filthy, just for him. He pulled you back up by your hair to stick his tongue down your throat. A giggle left your mouth and he pulled away. 
“We are so doing that again” he breathed. 
A pounding on the bathroom door made you both jump. 
“We get it you guys are disgusting! Let's get back to the game please!” The sound of Lucas’s angry voice came from the other side of the door. You could practically hear his eye-roll. Eddie and you burst out laughing “Come on baby, the Dungeon Master needs to finish up and then I will be seeing you later for more” Eddie left you in the bathroom, flushed and more than satisfied. You couldn’t wait for him to finish that sexy little game. 
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boiohboii · 10 months
Text
The surprise guest (who had to be protected by the host)
Lando Norris x Leclerc! Reader
After Lando Norris had a make out session with YN Leclerc on his stream, it hadn't been intentional, he had been too scared to come face to face with any of his girlfriend's three older brothers. But when his girlfriend's mother invites him over for dinner, he can't just ignore her
or
in which Pascale Leclerc invites her daughter's boyfriend (or as she likes to call him, her fourth son) over for a family dinner
N.B: I feel like the humor isn't what most of you expected and I am so sorry, I swear I am funnier irl 😭 hope you guys like it... special thanks to @glai1023-blog and @flowerchild-96 for the idea of mama leclerc doting on Lando
For context
The brothers' reactions to the steamy stream
Social media reactions
YN had always been close to her mother, she always told her about her new hair ideas, how she wants to cook a new recipe and her crushes, so when YN started dating Lando Norris her mother was the first person to know (with the promise of not telling her brothers)
Pascale had met Lando quite a lot in the 9 months that the young couple's relationship had stayed secret from her brothers. To say Pascale adored the young Brit was an understatement.
Pascale Leclerc loved Lando Norris like her own son; she learned all his favorite foods, what are his preferred desserts and the meals he hadn't been able to taste before (so that she could make it for him)
With that being said, the Leclerc parent is always big on family. She had instilled in her childrens' head that even if you are busy, you must have a day each month for a family dinner and that all five members of the Leclerc family must be present.
Except for this month, six members were present at that dinner, and three of them were ready to kick the intruder out if it not had been for their mother hitting them on the back of their heads.
It had all started out normal- well as normal as it could be when just a week ago you had seen your sister making out with her boyfriend on live.
Pascale had been in the kitchen making dinner with the help of YN while the three male Leclercs were too traumatised by last week's events to face their sister. It's not that they didn't want to ask her questions, they really did, they wanted to interrogate her, but whenever they catch a glimpse of her they remember the phone screens showing her and her boyfriend.
Boyfriend. That was one person they would love to meet. Charles could probably know where Lando Norris is whenever he wanted, that was the perks of having the same circle of friends, team workers who were also friends and same bosses. Did he want to talk to him? No. Did he want to beat him? Yes.
The doorbell interrupted the brothers creative imagination of how they could kill the British driver. As Arthur was closest to the door he went up to see who it was, not expecting the one who they murdered 100 different ways in their haeds to be standing at the door with 2 bouquets of flowers, a box of chocolate and a box of what appeared to be a cake.
"Oh, umm, hi?"
Lando was about to piss his pants, he saw that expression change on Arthur's face, and he was the youngest of his girlfriend's brothers. With every second Arthur stared at him his heart rate increased with sweat filling his palms as his throat tightened up.
"Who is it Arthur?"
Shit, fuck. Lando knew that voice all too well, and he was not ready to have his head nailed to the front of the paddock for everyone to see.
"Oh dear, hello my son, Arthur move out of the way."
The gentle voice of Pascale Leclerc stopped any and all movements in the living room.
"SON!"
The three Leclercs exclaimed in sync, looking at the young brit with wide eyes and clenched jaws.
The boys' anger increased as they watched their mother fuss over the boy, thanking him for the flowers as she called their sister to place them in a vase, giving him a hug and kissing his cheeks.
"Oh lovely, you didn't have to bring anything. Is that your favorite dessert then?"
Lando was all too aware of the three pairs of eyes staring at him, and if looks could kill he'd be 18 feet under. Gulping, he gave Pascale an awkward smile, too scared to actually utter a word.
Noticing his trembling hands and terrified glances at her sons, Pascale glared at the young men "you three! Stop it!"
"But mum-"
"No! I don't want to hear a word out of any of you if it's not going to be nice! You should respect you sister's boyfriend and my guest!"
"It's a family dinner! You never invited any of our girlfriends to a family dinner before"
"Oh my god," now that's a familiar voice Lando loves hearing "stop being babies about it."
Moving closed, YN took the flowers from Lando's hands "ohhh, mum, he got you your favourite!"
"Thank you love." Giving him a peck on the lips, YN smiled at him, and upon hearing her brothers' groans and complains she gave him a wink before kissing him again.
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The three Leclerc brothers were like Hyenas, waiting for their mother to stop protecting their pray so they could have a word (with their fists.)
Sitting at the couch facing the open kitchen they watched as their mother dotted over the British driver, stretching her hand for him to taste the food on the spoon before giving her a wide smile
"You three look like Scar." YN teased as she took a seat besides Charles
"Mon ange," Charles started as he rotated in his seat making him face to face with his sister "please, why didn't you tell us?"
"YN, Lando Norris, really?" Arthur whined as he looked at his younger sister, waiting for an explanation of hers.
"You three are really insufferable," YN stated as she looked at them with a devilish smirk "if you guys are wondering why i didn't tell you, it's just cause I know you three will be earing my ear off about our relationship and yes Arthur, Lando Norris, he makes me happy and he kisses me oh so-"
"LALALALALALAAA" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, making his sister laugh while their mother scolded them for the noise
"No, but really," YN took a sip of water "he is really nice to me, he treats me really well and he is so respectful-"
"Oh yeah, making out on live is oh so respectful of him" Lorenzo rolled his eyes then glared at the young boy in the kitchen, getting head pats from their mother like a golden retriever.
"Oh god, don't remind me man" Charles groaned as the image he tried so hard to erase came back much more vibrant and clearer, as if the presence of Lando just solidified it in his brain.
"Okay listen," YN huffed as she crossed her arms "if you don't like him then okay, fine, I will end it before it goes any further, but it was an honest mistake on both of out parts. We're not into that kind of thing."
"God, will you stop doing that!"
"Do you want to tramatise us?"
"Oh god, I did not need to know anything about this."
Hearing her brothers whine and groan from her teasing brings YN the greatest of joys. Was she planning on actually breaking things off for her brothers? Hell no, they're not little princesses they can keep their emotions in check.
"Mon ange, are you really sure that you like him?"
"Yes!" YN insisted as she looked at him like he grew 2 heads "will you just please get to know him?"
Sighing Charles bit his tongue, not wanting to actually upset his sister with what he really wanted to say.
"Okay mon ange, I'll talk to him and I'll make sure everything is normal," Charles got up to make his way to his mother who was now in a matching apron with Lando as he listened to her every word, basking up the praises and head pats given to him "just please, if he hurts you or if you feel like you aren't his top priority don't stick around okay. You are worth so much more than a race driver."
"Aren't you one?"
"Exactly."
With that, Charles left his siblings heading off to his mother with a pout as he spotted her patting the Brit's cheek with a full smile
"God, he's so whipped for her." Arthur told his brother, shaking his head.
"Yeah well, I told him it'd bite him in the ass someday."
"Hey! I'm not that bad!"
"YN," Lorenzo looked at her with a blank expression "you take full advantage of it and you know it."
■■♡■■
It had been an hour and now the family of five and their guest are sitting at the dinner table, having their first bite of the homemade dinner.
"Oh, this tastes phenomenal Mrs Leclerc. I hadn't had that in a while"
"Oh dear, I'm so glad you like it!" Pascale cooed over the young boy, getting up to place more for him on his plate "YN told me it's one of your favourites."
"Thank you so much darling." Lando smiled at YN, feeling more at ease with the glares sent his way as Pascale Leclerc glared right back at her sons.
"Mum," Lorenzo started as he looked at the food in distaste "I don't eat that, you know."
"Well," the mother smiled at her son sarcastically, making sure to get her point across "if you don't like it, then don't eat."
"Oh, c'est brutal maman." Arthur murmured under his breath, looking at his oldest sibling in pity
("Oh, that's brutal mum")
"I said no French!" Pascale warned her youngest son before turning to her now favorite son "tell me Lando, do you like Vanilla cakes?"
"Not really no, but YN told me it's your favorite so I bought it from what I also believe to be your favorite dessert shop."
"Oh dear, you really are my favorite," four voices of a 'mum!' yelled in the dinning room which did not take any of Pascale's attention away from the British young man "you're going to make me swoon."
"Oh my god," YN whispered to her brothers "we lost her."
"Yeah well," Lorenzo grumbled at his sister "he is your boyfriend"
"I lost my mum to my boyfriend."
"Oh, he went out of his way to go to her favourite shop," Arthur stated "she's not letting him go anywhere."
"I think you lost both of them mon ange."
■■♡■■
{Taglist: @idaesrhy @masonspulisic}
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mimimui · 10 months
Text
genshin boys asking for a kiss
includes: kazuha, ayato, thoma, alhaitham, kaveh, diluc, kaeya
tags: established relationship, fluff, mentions of wounds in diluc's, them being deeply in love with reader
a/n: it's 1am rn sorry if it's so scuffed omg but as always .. enjoy !
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kazuha simply puckers his lips in hopes you get the message. he had just finished an expedition with the crux when he went to go see you, wrapping his arms around your waist while saying, "i missed you." you missed him too, which was evident by the way you hugged him back.
and there he was, puckering his lips, waiting for you to lean in and kiss him. he always looks a bit silly when he does this, but you're endeared by him nonetheless. you lean in, giving him a quick peck, and a warm smile grows on his face. it's not long before he's puckering his lips again.
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ayato literally asks for it. he would go up to you and ask, "(y/n), can i have a kiss?" to which you generously give him. even in intimate moments where it's best not to ask, he'll ask anyway. an example of this was on your anniversary; neither of you exchanged words as you stared longingly into his eyes, waiting for him to make his move.
and as always, without fail, "can i kiss you?" escapes from his lips. this habit of ayato's is something you grew to really love about him, knowing he'll always ask before receiving it from you. you nod your head, and his soft lips connect with yours perfectly.
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thoma taps his lips twice with his finger, gesturing that he wants a kiss from you. it's a small thing he does that you find absolutely adorable. every time he does it, you make sure to give him more than just one kiss. he's always flustered after and you tease him about it, saying, "you asked for it, thoma."
he also does this when he wants a kiss other than on his lips. he would tap his cheek, his nose, anywhere he wants you to kiss him, really. you don't remember when he started doing this, but you pray to the archons everyday he will never stop doing it.
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alhaitham doesn't ask, he takes. when he wants a kiss, he'll simply go up to you and steal a quick one from your lips. he usually catches you off guard by doing this, and you always scold him for it. "alhaitham, i almost dropped my mug!" you exclaim, to which he replies, "but you're still holding it, aren't you?"
he especially loves stealing kisses from you when you're focused on something. reading a book? kiss. doing paperwork? kiss. staring at the wall? kiss. alhaitham likes seeing your reactions after he kisses you, he finds them delightful.
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kaveh will stare at you until you pick up the hint that he wants you to kiss him. when you finally understand what he wants and gives him a kiss, he complains it took you way too long to receive his telepathic signals. you hit his arm jokingly, and he responds with an overexaggerated gasp. "unbelieveable, (y/n)!"
he sometimes stares at you without the intention of asking for a kiss, so when you catch him staring at you and you kiss him, he gets confused. his cheeks welcome a slight pink tint, not expecting you to kiss him so suddenly. but kaveh doesn't mind, so as long as it's you.
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diluc would be getting his wounds bandaged by you when he thinks of asking for a kiss. he's a bit embarrassed to say anything though, so he stays silent until you're done patching him up. but to his surprise, you kiss his wounds and tell him, "it's so they heal quicker."
he doesn't hide his smile as he looks at you, thanking you for taking care of him. but even if you've kissed all his wounds already, he still feels a bit dissatisfied. suddenly, an idea pops into his head and he calls your attention. you can only laugh at what he says next, "my lips have a wound, can you kiss it too?"
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kaeya will keep asking for more kisses and if you keep giving them to him, it will be neverending. you gave him a goodbye kiss when he told you he was leaving, but you were confused when he just stood there. "kaeya, aren't you going to go now?" you ask, but he only smiles at you.
"one more kiss, please." you playfully roll your eyes as you give him another kiss. you thought he would go after that, but when he doesn't and asks for another kiss, you knew it was going to be a while before he actually leaves.
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thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
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cheapshrimpysheep · 10 months
Text
You... Cheater? - Demon Brothers
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SUMMARY: They saw you making out with some random demon. But only after talking to you will they find out that it wasn't you after all. It was a demon impersonating you. But how did they feel before realizing this and how did they react to the relief that it wasn't really you they saw?
(This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.)
CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)
TAGS: Fluf; GN Reader; Comfort; Kiss, Tears, a little Angst (I think)
WORD COUNT: An average of 470 words per character.
👉 You… Cheater? - Side Characters
COMMENTS: I was looking for prompts and saw something like “cheating” or “How would they react to being cheated on?” But I don't like cheaters, this would be to sad. However, they thinking they were cheated on, but in fact they were deceived and you comfort them, that looked like a better option to me.
I hope you enjoy ;)
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CONTEXT: He was walking the streets of Devildom, maybe out shopping for dinner. And he saw you! Or at least someone he thought was you. The appearance was exactly like yours! And you were making out with some random lower demon, that was unmistakable. That he could see clearly without a doubt.
This takes place before the events of Nightbringer.
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Lucifer decided to walk up to “you” and have a conversation with “you” right there. But when “you” and the other demon saw him, both ran away. He didn't follow them. He stopped right there and it only took a few seconds for him to realize that something was wrong. That couldn't be you. It does not make sense. You wouldn't cheat on him. Who would?
Part of him doesn't believe it was you because he knows you and your character. But the other part that doesn't believe it was you is his Pride. Cheat on Lucifer? With someone like Diavolo he could understand, but a lower demon? No, that wasn't you, you're not that stupid! However, he can't help but have a very small fear that it really was you. But that one is irrational, it can't be right.
He asks you to go talk to him in his office and, of course, you have no idea what he saw. So, you don't know what he wants to talk to you about.
“Where were you while I was away?” is the first thing he asks after telling you that you can come in. You are confused, but the truth is, you've been playing with Levi in his room. Then some of the other brothers also showed up to play, so you have a lot of alibis.
“Did Solomon ever teach you how to duplicate yourself?” If you respond with "Is that possible?!" and an obvious face of surprise, he will burst out laughing. “I wouldn't be surprised if it was.” he continues and tells you about what he saw on the street.
Your reaction tells him everything he needs to know and confirms his suspicions. “Don't worry, I knew it wasn't you. I just wanted to confirm with you.” he lifts your chin and kisses your lips “I would never fall in love with a cheater.”
And then, he hugs you. It starts out like a normal hug, but after his arms are around you, you feel them tighten slightly. As if that little irrational side of him that worried him was showing how relieved he was that it really wasn't you. As if that little irrational part of him, that told him what he'd seen could be real, was showing you how relieved he was wrong.
“I don't know who those demons were.” He says, slowly breaking the hug and looking at you. “Yet.” You see his eyes, a look very similar to the one he usually has when he wants to punish his brothers. But this one was worse. “I will find out who they were. They need to be reminded why they shouldn't deceive us. Of course you are more than welcome to join me, after all they had the audacity to impersonate you.”
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We all know Mammon is the emotional type not the rational one. So... he’s completely desolate, devastated, he’s heart shattered in pieces. It didn't even cross his mind that it might not be you, despite the number of times he said to himself "No, no, no, no, no, no..." He didn't have the courage to face “you”. He even dropped the purchases he made. One of the items he bought was a gift for you. And he run away.
He didn't come home. After all, you were there and seeing you would be too painful. But nobody knew about it. But nobody knew about it. Well, actually he went home, without the groceries and without listening to anyone. He just went straight to his room and left again, but this time on his car. You haven't seen him.
It's when everyone else goes to talk to you about not knowing where he is and being his turn to make dinner that you decide to go to his room and summon him. I mean, you have no idea where he is either. He doesn't respond to your messages. Summoning him will bring him straight to you, straight to home.
He appears and falls on his butt. “OI! WHAT THE-?!” he looks at you. His eyes were reddish and his cheeks wet. You ask what happened, worried. “You... I... You know what happened!” But you don’t. “Yes you do! I saw you! I saw... you two...”
“Us two? You mean Asmo and I? Of course you saw us. You came with us.” You remind him that the three of you went shopping together, but Asmo wanted to buy a new perfume and wanted you to go with him. So Mammon went to buy the rest of the stuff.
He is clearly embarrassed. “W-wait, s-so you were with Asmo the whole time?” Yes, you still even smelled like the perfume he bought. “S-so... you weren't sneaking kissing another demon on the street?” What the heck was he talking about?! Of course not! Does he really thought you would be kissing a random demon on the street when you could be making out with him? Your first?! And you tell him that. He's such a dummy!
He hugs you desperately. And he starts to cry again, but this time with relief. His face on your shoulder, he can't even speak, just sob. As if you just woke him up from a nightmare. You hug him back and kiss him on the forehead.
He really needs some time with you now. He's not really the vindictive type. He just wants you, your love and affection, although it took him a while to admit it. So you two cuddle for a while on his sofa. Until he remembered his car was parked somewhere.
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Levi is also a very emotional person but worse: he is the Avatar of Envy. Just like any other sin can blind you, this one is the worst for what he saw. And even even worse, we know he doesn't have a good self-esteem. Put it all together and he never felt worse in his life. He won't talk to "you", he will run back home and lock himself in his room.
You had agreed that when he arrived you would go to his room to play the new game he had gone out to buy. But he didn't tell you he was back. It was one of the brothers who told you that he had seen him arrive and enter the room.
You go to his room, knock on the door, but he doesn't answer. You try as many times as it takes until he says he wants to be alone and doesn't want to talk to anyone. Messages don't work either. Only when you threaten to break down the door does he let you in.
The lights are off and he's hiding under the covers in the bathtub. You ask what's going on and again he takes a long time to answer you. He’s more the type of avoiding talk and/or see you. Listening to you is painful enough already. Worried, you slowly approach and ask again, in your sweetest voice, what was going on.
“I SAW IT, OK!?” he exploded, without coming out from under the covers, his voice cracking. “I... saw it... I saw you... on the street...” He saw you on the street? Was he talking about seeing you and Satan on the book store? “WHAT? No!” He got up, uncovering himself from the blankets. His eyes were reddish and a few tears were still falling down his cheeks. “I saw you kissing that demon on the street.” he calms down a bit and starts talking about that shouldn't surprise him. Even a lower demon was better than him. Of course he would never be enough for you. Someone like him? Of course not. You deserved better. You would even deserve the crown of Devildom...
Well, you don't remember kissing Satan on the street, so you have no idea what he's talking about. You tell him you went out with Satan to the bookstore and you were with him the whole time until you got back home. Levi could ask him. Whoever he saw wasn't you.
It takes a while for him to process that and realize that who he saw really wasn't you. And for him to throw himself into your arms. He's not afraid to cry in front of you, and on your shoulder. His hug is tight, desperately and lovingly tight.
He tells you again about his fear of losing you, of you leaving him. You end up getting in the bathtub with him. Cuddling with and reassuring him. Saying you would never leave him, how much you love him. He needs you now, he needs to recover from the shock that luckily wasn't real.
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What have those two demons just done? Envy is a very bad sin to be the avatar of in a situation like that. But even worse is Wrath! Satan instantly assumed his demon form, throws the groceries to who knows where, and walked towards the two. They noticed him approach by the heavy and determined steps and fled. He stopped. “You” looked at him with such fear in “your”eyes, it shocked him.
He didn't mean to hurt “you”, he never would! But “you” hurt him. How could this be happening? You weren't like that, you were so kind and lovable... Wait, you're not like this. Something is wrong. And he only realizes this after stopping and calming down a bit. Something he learned from you. No! You wouldn't do this. Something was really wrong and he needed to talk to you now!
As soon as he gets home, he asks the first brother of his he sees if you are there. And after hearing a yes he runs to your room. Ignoring the "Why? What's going on?" after that yes.
He knocks at your door while calling your name. You open the door and he rushes into the room, closing the door behind you and practically "Kabedon" you against the door. “Have you been here the whole time?” he seems to contain some kind of anger. It worries you a little, but at these times you know you need to be the calm person. And yes, you were home that whole time. In fact, you spent a lot of time helping Mammon with his studies. He practically begged for your help to avoid another punishment from Lucifer.
You seemed sincere, but still: “So, you never left the house? Not even to go shopping?” You think for a moment. But no, pretty sure you never left the House of Lamentation. And the hours of study were very long. You both know what a bad student Mammon is.
He sighs, lowers his head for a moment and then drops down to hug you. It is a tender and relieved hug. “I’m sorry.” he whispers in your ear. “I just... wanted to make sure..." you hug him back and finally feel like it's the right time to ask what's going on.
He tells you what he saw on the street. The shock on your face is further proof to him that it wasn't really you he saw. As he thinks about what that could have been, his expression change. The expression of the true Avatar of Wrath.
“The only explanation is that someone impersonated you. I don't know who they were but I'll find out. And I couldn't care less if there were any reason for them to do that. Nobody tarnishes your name! I will find them, and when I do I'll make them regret even the air they breathe today.”
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Asmo doesn't think you are cheating on him. After all he’s the Avatar of Lust, he better than anyone understands the concept of One-night stand. But he can't help but get a sour feeling in his stomach. He used to do one-night stands, but that was before he meet you. After that he couldn't do it anymore, he just wanted you. And he thought you only wanted him. What was happening to him?
He thought of going to you. Ask if he could join. That would look like him, but no, he can't, that's not what he wants to do. It's nothing related to his sin that he wants to do. He felt more like... Levi? Could it be jealousy? Him?! He needed to go home. ASAP!
He does his best to pretend that nothing is wrong, that he just came back from shopping and didn't see anything special. Maybe he'll come up with some story about a purse he saw, just to keep up the facade that everything was fine.
He'll avoid you for awhile, flashing you a smile you knew was fake. It was at dinner time, after he sent a message to the brothers' group saying he didn't feel well and therefore wouldn't have dinner that you decided to go to his room and check on him.
He is reluctant to let you in, but he still wants to show you that everything is fine, so he gives in at the second or third knock. He is sitting on the bed. And not even all the make-up he could put on his face would manage to hide from you the sadness that was really in his eyes. Despite his smile. He tells you not to worry, but it's when you insist that you can tell something is wrong that he decides to tell you the truth.
“I... I wanted to ask you.” he puts back on his everything is fine mask “Who was that new demon friend of yours?” You look confused at him. “I wasn't snooping, I promise. I just ended up seeing you two. You know, even if you try to hide yourself well there is still a possibility that someone will see you making out on the street.” he was forcing a smile, as if wanting to look like he was giving you genuine advice. But you got even more confused. What the heck was he talking about?
“Aww, don't worry hon, I'm not mad. I... think...” he mutters to himself and then goes back to talking to you. “You don't need to hide it from me. I saw it with my own eyes, you know?” you see his eyes water slightly. He's trying so hard not to cry.
But you weren't on that street today. “What?!” he widens his eyes, as if seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. You tell him you've been with Lucifer at RAD most of the day, helping him with paperwork. And even when you came home, you came back with him. And that was it. That and you wouldn't making out with a random demon on the streets. You have standards. and they only skyrocketed after you met Asmo.
He believes in you, he always believed in you and you really seemed to be telling the truth. He finally breaks down in tears and jumps out of bed to hug you desperately. He is so happy to know that that wasn't you! But he's still confused about what he felt. He really needs to talk to you about this. But after dinner. His appetite has returned and he is starving.
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Beel doesn't know what to do. Should he pretend he didn't see anything? Should he go talk to you? He was so confused. You're not like this. what was happening? He... shouldn't interrupt, should he? He just grabs the groceries and heads home.
None of the groceries survived the trip. He ate up his feelings along the way. Or at least he tried. Lucifer was about to scold him, until he saw the look on his face and he just decided to let him go to his room and talk later. But the truth is, he would ask you to talk to him. And that's because even Belphie couldn't.
Belphie went to the attic to let you two talk alone in their bedroom. You knocked on the door, but Beel didn't answer. He didn't tell you to come in, but he didn't say you couldn't either. You walk in and see him lying on his bed with his back to you.
You slowly walk up to him and ask what's going on. He still doesn't respond. You sit on the bed and when you touch him, he flinches a little. Ok, now you're really worried. You ask him to please tell you what's going on, in your sweet, understanding voice.
He takes a deep breath and then slowly gets up to sit on the bed beside you. He still can't look at you. He doesn't look upset, just sad and confused. “I saw you on the street.” he calmly explains, with a sadness in the voice that breaks your heart “With that demon.”
What demon? What street? You haven't even left the house today. “What?!” he finally looks at you. He hadn't cried yet, but he was close to it. You tell him you didn't leave the house. You were even in the Planetarium with Belphie while Beel went shopping.
He believes in you, he always did and he never had any reason not to. And the same goes for Belphie. “So it wasn't you I saw on the street kissing another demon?” What? Of course not! What was he talking about?
He doesn't explain, he just smiles hugely and gives you one of his bear hugs. He tells you what he saw while hugging you. He doesn't care what he saw. He doesn't want to know who did it. The only thing that matters is that it wasn't really you. The real you was there, with him, hugging him back and letting him kiss you and kissing him back.
Then you hear his stomach rumble like a beast. His appetite had returned, and with a vengeance.
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What the F*ck was going on?! Did that filthy lower demon make you do that? Were you under some spell? Belphie was going to put an end to it NOW! He assumed his demon form, throws the groceries away and rushed towards “you”. But when “you” two see him, “you” run away. He runs after the two, but unfortunately for him, the demon manages to outrun him.
He comes back home looking for you and without the groceries. When Lucifer sees him and prepares to lecture him for not bringing the groceries, Belphie stops him and asks if you are at home. It’s important! Something might have happened to you. Lucifer says you're in your room and lets Belphie run to your door.
You hear him knocking urgently at your door. You open the door, and seeing the seriousness on his face you ask what happened. He stands still in silence for a moment, looking at you, analysing. Then he comes in and lets you close the door.
“Did you leave the house today?” he asks calmly. You say yes. “Where did you go?” That was weird, he wasn't the stalking type, he was too lazy for that. That and he was never like that, much less with Beel. You went with Beel to a new pastry shop that opened to try their drinks and sweets. Needless to say, you spent a lot of time there. You had to drag Beel back home because it was getting late. You two had only arrived home shortly before Belphie himself.
“You never left his side?” No. Why would you? You love hanging out with Beel. By the way you speak and your confused expression, he knows you're telling the truth. And his straight face instantly turns into a reassured, lazy laugh. “Ha ha ha. I knew that was weird. It wasn't even you.” And now that his good mood was back, you could safely ask what the heck was going on.
“Ummmmm... I'm too tired to tell. At least standing. You know, I saw something that made me worry about you, so I ran back to see if you were all right. I'm so sleepy right now. What if I told you while we cuddle in your bed?” That sly bastard, taking advantage of a subject like that for cuddles.
He tells you what happened while the two of you are in bed. But even though he's relaxed in your arms he doesn't fall asleep. “That was probably some demon impersonating you with some shapeshifting spell.” he says “If they had done that to me, I wouldn't care. But since you were the one they did this to, I'll make sure to find them and break their neck.” he said with a cute smile and already half asleep, which only made the threat worse. And then finally fell asleep in your arms.
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If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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katiexpunk · 3 days
Text
Fuck Me, Fill Me
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~4K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI
Summary: Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. You spent years successfully avoiding one. Except things are different now, you're ready for more. Your husband Joel is more than happy to oblige.
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Warnings: Joel has one mission in this one -- knock you the fuck up (if that's not your thing, kindly move on). Heavy on the breeding kink. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). So much dirty talk. Fingering. Dry humping/grinding. Praise kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V. Rough sex. Semi-public sex. Sex in front of a mirror. Multiple creampies. No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to. Let me know if I missed anything!
A/N: I have no excuses for this one except that I have Joel brain rot and baby fever. Shoutout to the Capital One Lounge at IAD for the idea. Written on a plane.
Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Notifications
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Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. 
It’s inevitable, really. A known fact of life. Call it Murphy’s law, bad luck, or just plain stupidity… 
You’ve spent the majority of your teens and 20s successfully avoiding an accident. 
If it can happen, it will happen your superstitious aunt used to say, and you were a believer. 
Lord knows you've had more than enough evidence in your life to back up her words. From the tummy ache after eating way too many cherries, to the conspicuous brown stain that ruined your pristine white blouse. A blister on your heel from shoes that were supposed to be 'broken in' but never quite were, and the painful crack in your skin that followed. Proof was everywhere, and you learned to expect the unexpected.
You hold tight to that belief, while Joel does the same to your hips, fucking you within an inch of your life in the airport lounge bathroom.
But how you both ended up in this position was no accident. 
++++
It never seemed like the right time—you had so much more to explore, achieve, and experience. Becoming a mother would complicate everything; at least, that's what you convinced yourself. You were content to rely on that little orange pill each day, despite its own set of side effects, because it kept your options open. 
You weren't sure you'd make a good mom anyway. Your own mother certainly wasn't a shining example, and you had no reason to think you'd be any different. You couldn't even keep a cactus alive—how could you possibly care for a child?
But something changed not long after you and Joel got married. Maybe it was maturity slowly finding its way in, like warm honey filling the spaces you once closed off. It softened you to the idea of chubby cheeks and tiny fingers, gentle coos, and quiet lullabies sung in the deep southern drawl that had become so familiar.
Initially, you weren't sure how Joel would take the news, but when you told him you'd reconsidered, his reaction was beyond anything you'd expected. He was over the moon, filled with an urgency you'd never seen in him before. It was like you'd handed him the key to his deepest desires, and he was eager, almost desperate, to turn it and bring new life into your world, yours and his.
He made it clear just how eager he was when he took you in his arms and twirled you around the kitchen in joy. Then, without missing a beat, he bent you over the counter, yanked down your jeans, and made his intentions unmistakably clear. He fucked his cum so deep inside of you that night that you felt the warm dribble of him the next morning. 
++++ 
Good things come to those who wait.
The words seem almost lifeless as they peer back at you, the paper they're printed on showing signs of age and Scotch tape keeping it glued to the break room wall above the microwave. The optimism they once held has faded, leaving behind nothing but cynicism and wear.
Yeah. Right. 
The shrill beep of the microwave snaps you back to the present, your shoulders tensing. You shake off your irritation, clutching the warm coffee that’s been reheated three times, its heat barely reaching the chill of your underlying pessimism. It’s a small comfort, but enough to soften the ache of disappointment that nags at you every month when hope fizzles out.
Back at your desk, you bury yourself in work, flipping through emails and juggling various applications. Headphones in, you’re almost lost in your own world when a notification on your phone pulls you back. It's your cycle tracking app, reminding you that you're due to ovulate in a couple of days. But wait—
No, no, no. You quickly count the days in your head, then scramble to open your work calendar. The schedule's a blur until your eyes land on the words "Work Trip: Jackson, Wyoming." They jump off the screen, almost mocking you. Looks like timing won't be on your side this month. Unless —
Would it be too ridiculous to change an entire work trip just so you could make love to your ridiculously hot husband, and let him fill you again and again? You think not, but you know your boss might say otherwise. 
You spend the rest of your workday figuring out Plan B. The irony is not lost on you that you’re seeking out an entirely different kind than you used to. 
++++
As you settle into the couch, your legs draped across his lap, he begins to massage the soles of your feet in that soothing way that sends a ripple of warmth up your spine. You can't help but glance at his side profile—the elegant slope of his nose, the chiseled cut of his jaw, and the effortless curls of his salt-and-pepper hair that rest at the nape of his neck. He's undeniably handsome, a sight that never gets old.
His touch spreads a slow heat across your skin, your stomach fluttering in response. It's always been this way—the world could be crumbling outside, but with Joel, in your shared cocoon, you feel entirely at ease, wrapped in safety and affection.
“You're really gorgeous, you know,” you murmur, almost too quietly to be heard. You swirl the wine in your glass and meet his gaze as you take a sip.
“Nah, that's you, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink, his touch transitioning to featherlight kitten caresses as his fingers trace a path up your shin. He's not trying to seduce you, not really,  but his touch and the intent gaze he holds on you are enough to ignite a slow burn under your skin.
You relax into the cushions, your head sinking back into the pillow, reveling in this moment. When he pauses, even for a second, you squirm, and he chuckles softly. “Such a needy little thing, aren't cha?” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he resumes his gentle strokes. “Mhm, sure am,” you hum, your eyes closing as you melt into the sensation of his skin on yours.
He slowly journeys upward, callused palms gliding along the smooth skin of your thigh, alternating between soft strokes and firm squeezes. Each touch seems to awaken a deeper need within you, and you're all too aware of the growing bulge beneath your calves, a silent but potent reminder of the desire simmering between you. It's enough to make you ache for him, crave his closeness, the kind of closeness only he can provide.
You lift your head, and he's already adjusting, his broad frame looming over you. He locks eyes with you as he takes the wineglass from your hand, placing it on the coffee table with care, then shifts his full attention back to you. You push your hips upward, meeting his, and he presses down just enough to make it clear that he’s in control, his body holding you firmly but without discomfort. You know he’s got you right where he wants you.
Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze leaves no doubt—this is happening. He props himself up on one forearm, his other hand tangling through your hair, his knuckles brushing against your cheek with a tender touch. He thrusts his hips into you with more urgency, his lips descending to capture yours, drawing out a soft moan from deep within you.
“Fuck sweetheart, feel what you do to me?” he groans, pressing his lips harder against yours. He tastes the wine on you, and your tongues intertwine, each movement slow but deliberate. You work your arms free from your sides and slide your hands into his hair, tugging gently, your nails grazing his scalp. The deep groan that escapes him tells you he's feeling everything—the pull, the scrape, the heat. It rumbles from his chest, reverberating through you, and it's intoxicating.
With your lips pressed firmly to his, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a teasing bite as he thrusts against you. The rough denim scrapes against your inner thighs, and he slots himself perfectly between your legs. His mouth leaves yours, tracing a path of soft kisses down your jawline, lingering at that sensitive spot just behind your ear before he pulls the lobe into his mouth. You moan, fingers tangled in his hair, while your other hand explores the broad expanse of his back, craving the feel of him, unable to get enough.
“Joel,” you whimper, his name almost a question on your lips. 
He doesn't pause, thrusting with just the right pressure, almost ignoring your plea. You move your lips to his shoulder and whisper, “I’m ovulating.”
That makes him stop. He props himself up on one forearm, his free hand on your ribs, his intense gaze locking onto yours. His eyes darken, pupils eclipsing the rich brown you know so well, and he groans deeply. Fuck. 
“Yeah, sweetheart? Mmm, big mistake telling me that, now I’m just going to pump you full of my cum all night, gonna fuck you again and again, keep you so full of me that it’ll have no choice but to stick this time.” 
You whimper at the thought, and his words go straight to your already wet core, your pussy fluttering around nothing, practically begging to be filled. 
You want him so bad, but right now, he wants you more — wants every part of you, wants to change you forever. His head dips back to your neck, and he's practically grinding into you, the pressure so intense it feels like he's already fucking you through your clothes. His beard rasps against your cheek, leaving a trail of red marks as he works his way down to your chest, hastily undoing buttons, uncovering your breasts, and teasing your nipples to hard, eager peaks.
It would almost be embarrassing how turned on you are right now if it were anyone but him, how easily he can fluster you, turn you into a babbling mess. 
“Well, not right now, but I am next —” you start to say, but quickly lose your train of thought as his whole hand comes down to cup your sex and the feel of his palm pressing against your dripping center. 
“Sorry darlin’, what was that?” He asks, doing little to hide the smug tone behind his voice, obviously pleased with the effect he has on you.
“I am next week, while I’m supposed to be in Jackson for work,” you manage to get out, the words coming out soft, a barely there thought, your attention mostly on the sensation of his thick finger that has now curled its way deep inside of you, your panties pushed to the side as they should never have been there in the first place, not with him in the room. 
“Come with me,” you ask, your words a tad breathless as he adds another finger to your dripping center, your slick coating them completely, and when he doesn’t answer, you’re not sure he heard you behind the haze of his arousal, the blood thrumming through his veins. Not that you can blame him, it’s so hard to fucking think, to breathe, to string together a rational thought that isn’t dirty when you’re together like this. 
“Gotta feel this pussy first,” he rasps, the words slightly muffled against the tenderness of your breast. His words sober you for a brief second, as you playfully push against him in protest. 
"That's not what I meant, and you know it," you laugh, and he can't suppress the goofy grin spreading across his face. He loves this—the playful banter, the way you bring out his lighter side, the perfect blend of passion and humor that flows between you. It's always been like this, effortlessly flirty, endlessly fun. You’re the perfect combination of sexy and cute, and better yet, you’re all his. 
“Alright baby, I’ll come with you, on one condition,” he says, adding a third finger, and the stench of him is intoxicatingly delicious, perfect, and intense in the best way. You already feel so fucked out, you’re not sure how he’s managing to find the will to set fucking conditions right now, but still, you humor him — 
“Conditions, huh?” You moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the pads of his fingers grazing at the soft spongey spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 
“Yeah, sweetheart, conditions,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re gonna be the good girl I know you are and come all over my fingers, and then I’ll make sure that you’re full of me all week, whenever you want it baby, I’m all yours,” he rasps, his breath coming a bit more ragged now at the thought of your proposition and his. 
His fingers are still deep inside of you, he positions his wrist just right and brings the pad of his thumb to your clit. Your slick, combined with his filthy fucking mouth, and his thick cock pressed against you, creates the perfect conditions for the inevitable. He’s never not made you come, and you sure as hell know he’s not about to change that narrative now. 
If it can happen, it will happen. 
“Come on pretty girl, show me how pretty you come on your husband’s fingers,” he says, not really asking, but rather ordering in the tone that lights every nerve in your body on fire with arousal. 
The warmth in your lower belly spreads outward, wrapping you in a blanket of pleasure. Your limbs tingle, your vision blurs, and your toes curl as the intensity builds. For a split second, everything goes hazy, and you let go, surrendering to him completely. He takes control, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy, pulling you into a bliss that only he knows how to reach.
“So good for me, sweetheart. You are so perfect.” 
He makes you come once more soon after and then fucks you deep and slow. It’s all whispered praises in your ear, a firm grip on your hips, and his cock barely leaving your cunt before he’s slamming back into you, desperate to keep the tip of him as close to your cervix as possible. 
Come with me, you moan, and he knows exactly what you mean this time. 
“Shit, baby, I can feel you squeezing me, taking me so good —” his words break with a moan as you come for the third time, falling apart on his cock, before he adds “gripping me so goddamn tight.” 
His thrusts slow and he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, and paints your insides in thick ropes of cum, holding your gaze as he throbs inside, not daring to move and risk any of his spend coming out before he wants it to. 
He plants a soft kiss on your lips and tells you that you’re going to look even more gorgeous with his baby inside of you. 
++++
The delayed flight to Jackson was just another reminder of life's unpredictability.
What started as a simple 30-minute delay quickly turned into an hour, then two, and now you're both three hours past your original departure time. 
You find yourselves in one of the newer airport lounges, sitting in overly posh chairs. It's surprisingly uncrowded given the chaos that usually comes with airport delays. Your luggage is safely tucked away in the lockers, your bellies are full from the free snacks, and the irritation from earlier is fading thanks to the complimentary drinks. The ambiance is unexpectedly chic. Even the bathrooms feel upscale—private, enormous mirrors, fancy soap, and paper towels so luxurious they might as well be hand towels.
Joel is deep into a well-worn Western novel, its cover frayed and spine cracked from countless readings. You're scrolling through an article about the best positions for conceiving, smirking when you realize you and Joel have tried most of them, and then some. Just as you're in the middle of your read, your cycle tracking app sends a notification—you're at peak fertility, starting now. Have fun! ;) 
Shit. 
Who knows when you'll actually make it to your hotel room in Jackson tonight? You glance up from your phone, stealing a look at Joel. He's always handsome, but there's something about him in his glasses—the way the frames sit on the bridge of his nose, the slight furrow in his brow as he focuses on the words in his book. It's endearing how he still reads with such intensity, even though you know he's revisited these same pages countless times.
Your pussy flutters and aches at the sight, giving you a cheeky idea. He did say you could have him whenever you wanted. 
You clear your throat, hoping to pull Joel's focus from his book, but he doesn't seem to notice. You try again, this time a bit louder, and all you get is a distracted, "You okay, sweetheart?" without him even glancing up.
You know you’ll need to be more direct to capture his attention.
"I'm going to use the restroom," you say, and he nods, eyes still on the page. Once inside, you leave the door unlocked and hike up your dress, exposing your bare breasts. You pinch your nipples between your thumb and forefinger until they harden, then push out your chest, angling your smartphone for the perfect shot. The result is a provocative selfie that you know will make him put that book down.
You attach it to a message for Joel and quickly type out your request — come knock me up in the bathroom, Cowboy. 
He’s joining you in the bathroom faster than you thought he would, careful to avoid any curious eyes or draw attention to the fact that he’s about to absolutely wreck his wife.
Once inside, he locks the door behind him and grabs your waist, guiding you back until your hips hit the counter's edge. His hands roam over your body, lifting the hem of your dress until it's bunched around your waist. He kisses you with a desperate hunger, as if he hasn't had you in years.
"You sure you want to do this here, sweetheart?" he groans against your lips, shifting between playful nips, gentle kisses on your cheeks, and heated sucks at your jawline. The anticipation in his touch is palpable, but he's still checking to make sure this is what you want.
“Never been more sure of anything in my life except for the day I married you. Please fuck me, Joel, need to feel you stretch me out” you say, your words crossed between a whimper and a plea. 
God, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more perfect. 
“Yeah? My girl wants me to fill up her tight little hole,” he teases, already knowing the answer. He moves his hand to your dripping core and lets out a deep groan when he discovers you’ve already removed the barrier of your underwear for him. 
“Fuck baby, I’d do anything to taste you right now, wanna hear all those pretty noises you make and the way my name sounds when you moan it for me,” and you soften more under the heat of his words, letting your mind drift to thoughts of how good it feels when his head is between your legs, gently wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s his fucking job. 
“Gotta make this one quick, though. Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. 
"Good girl—c'mere, turn around," he instructs, guiding you with his hands until you've spun around, your hips pressing into the sink. His hand travels down your spine, making you arch toward him slightly, and he bends you over even more. In the mirror, you see him behind you, his eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his jeans to mid-thigh. The anticipation is electric as you watch him in the reflection, knowing exactly what's coming next.
He spits into his hand and jerks himself, all the while holding your gaze, admiring the way your breasts are pressed up against the counter, perky and perfect. His cock twitches at the thought of what they’ll look like all swollen and full of milk. 
He lines himself up against your wet and waiting hole, holds your hips steady with one hand, and gathers your hair in his fist with the other. He gently tugs it so your chin is angled up, eyes even straighter looking into the mirror. He loves watching you take it. 
“You’re gonna watch as I fuck you, sweetheart,” He rasps as he presses himself into you in one stroke. You’re so fucking wet, your greedy cunt accepts him easily, despite his size. Like it knows what it wants, and what it needs. There’s a dull delicious sting at the intrusion.
“Oh my god, Joel, you’re so bi—” You break off in a moan as he pulls out and then slams himself into you deep and hard. 
“God damn, look at you, my perfect fucking girl. Taking me so well, like this cock was made for you, huh baby?” His voice is firm, but quiet, just above a whisper. He’s not wasting time, he sets a punishing pace, and all you can do is let him use you. 
“Fuck me, fuck me, fill me, fill me” you cry out, and he brings his hand to cover your mouth. 
“What’d I say about being quiet, baby?” He holds you like that. You slip your hand between your thighs and rub your clit, a dangerous combination when he’s fucking you in this position. You come so fast that you think it might be a record. The tightening of your cunt has him on the precipice of his release.
“You’re fucking mine,” he growls, fucking his cum into you over and over, using every drop of him to give you what you want.
It might not stick this time, hell, it might not stick next time, but one thing is for certain — Joel will keep you full and fucked either way. 
END 
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A/N Continued: Thank you so much for reading! On a side note, my engagement here has been really low lately. :( As much as I'd love to say I don't care about the notes, I won't lie and tell you I don't need them for validation. If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I'll love you forever.
Tagging some moots for visibility (lmk if you want to be removed if the subject matter isn't your thing. No hard feelings!) @endlessthxxghts @syd-djarin @auteurdelabre @morning-star-joy@theoasisofthings @chulopascal @morallyinept @sweetercalypso @xdaddysprincessxx @burntheedges @punkshort @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @morgaussy
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eiightysixbaby · 5 months
Text
under the mistletoe
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modern!eddie munson x fem!reader (college au)
2.6k
summary: a holiday party, a sweet gift exchange, and an even sweeter kiss
cw: mentions of alcohol, v brief mentions of weed smoking, fluff
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“If Steve and Chrissy kiss one more time under that mistletoe, I’m gonna barf,” Eddie mumbles around his glass of eggnog.
“Oh, come on, I think it’s sweet,” Robin says, elbowing him in the side. “Stop being such a downer.”
You look in the direction of the couple under scrutiny, watching as Chrissy perches herself on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on Steve’s waiting mouth. It is sweet, sickeningly so, if you’re honest. Maybe that’s where Eddie’s coming from…
“I’m not being a downer, I just don’t think we should all have to be subjected to them sucking face every five minutes,” Eddie sneers at her, huffing when she rolls her eyes at him.
“You’re just jealous you’re not getting any, Munson,” Robin sing-songs, walking away to refill her drink.
This was your first time experiencing one of Steve’s Christmas parties. Last year, you spent the holiday miserably sick in your and Robin’s shared apartment. You’d met the group during your first year of college, making fast friends and fitting right in with them. Robin and Eddie knew Steve from their shared hometown growing up, and they’d told you countless stories of all of the parties he used to throw in high school.
You’re just thankful that now, the parties are a little more scaled-back. A lot less drinking-till-you-puke and a lot more quality time with people you actually care about.
“So, you having fun at your first official Harrington holiday party?” Eddie asks you, looking casually over at you with his deep brown eyes.
“Yeah,” you smile. “It’s fun. I needed this after all the stress from finals. And it beats having the flu like last year,” you grimace, heart skipping a beat when Eddie laughs.
“Okay, you got me. Watching Steve and Chrissy make out might be bad, but it’s not as bad as the flu.”
You giggle, feeling your cheeks heat when he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You’d be a filthy liar if you said you didn’t have a thing for Eddie. The moment you met him he’d captured your full attention, with his boisterous personality and his pretty eyes. His wild curly hair and his stellar smile. Everything about him had you giddy like a teenager, but you hadn’t voiced this to anyone — too scared that your feelings would disrupt, well, everything.
Plus, Eddie definitely didn’t like you like that. You’ve heard some of his hookup stories, he wouldn’t want to settle down and start a relationship with you. You’re just a friend to him, and that’s fine.
But with the way he’s looking at you right now, you could almost be convinced otherwise…
The little moment is gone before it really even started, Nancy coming over to the two of you and hurrying you into the living room to do the gift exchange. You’d decided to do a Secret Santa, drawing names and keeping your chosen person a secret until it was time for the unwrapping.
Much to your excitement, you’d pulled Eddie’s name. You’d debated over what to get him for as long as you could get away with before you finally came up with the perfect idea. Now that it’s almost time for him to open it, you find yourself getting nervous to see his reaction.
Everyone sits in a circle in the living room, taking up all of the furniture as well as the floor. You take one end of the sofa, and Eddie claims the chair closest to you. You watch as Nancy places all of the wrapped boxes and sparkly gift bags in the center of the group, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Eddie chose to sit by you.
“So, whose name did you get?” he leans over and whispers to you, those big doe eyes full of mischief.
“Well what fun would it be to spoil it now?” you counter, smiling at him as he rolls his eyes and sighs exaggeratedly.
Your attention is brought back to the group as Steve offers to go first, picking up his gift and handing it over to Jonathan. Jonathan shyly accepts it, smiling as he tears the tissue paper out of the bag to reveal its contents. He pulls out a few cassette tapes of his favorite artists, as well as a new strap for his camera.
“Dude, these are awesome!” he says, and you watch as Steve smiles proudly. “Thank you so much,” the shaggy-headed boy continues, leaning over to accept Steve’s fist bump.
“No problem, man. I know you were complaining about your current camera strap getting all worn. The cassettes were an obvious choice,” Steve jokes.
The room is full of smiles and laughs as the gift-giving continues. Jonathan gives his gift to Chrissy, Chrissy had drawn your name and gives hers to you — a beautiful charm bracelet and a cozy blanket you’d seen at the mall not long ago and wanted terribly.
That means you’re up next. Your hands feel clammy and nervous butterflies flutter in your stomach as you grab your gifts from the floor. Angling yourself in Eddie’s direction, you hand him the presents with a timid smile.
“For me!?” he asks, holding a hand up to his heart. “How’d I get so lucky?”
You feel your face flush, unable to maintain eye contact as your jitters get the best of you. You just hope he likes it. You hope it’s not too much.
Eddie’s careful hands unwrap the first present of the two, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor. The small box is exposed, and you feel like you might pass out as he takes the lid off. His jaw drops open, his head snapping up to look at you and then look back down at the contents of the container once more.
“What is it!?” Nancy asks, craning her neck from her seat to try and catch a glimpse.
“Custom guitar picks. For Corroded Coffin,” Eddie says, in awe as he just stares at them.
The picks were a red and black marbled pattern, with CC printed onto them on one side, and an image of a bat flying on the opposite side. You know how important his band is to him, how often he stays up till the asscrack of dawn practicing guitar, and so it felt like the perfect thing to get.
You wait with baited-breath as he continues looking them over, picking them up and marveling at them as if they aren’t just pieces of plastic at the end of the day.
“These are…. I don’t even know what to say. These are so fucking sweet,” he says, meeting your eyes.
“Don’t forget to open the second one,” you say, trying to bite back a smile.
He just smiles, shaking his head as he goes to pick up the second present. Reaching carefully inside of the big, sparkly red bag, he pulls out a vinyl record. Not just any record, though. It’s a copy of Master of Puppets, signed by every member of Metallica. Eddie’s favorite band. You’d scoured the internet for a legitimate and somewhat-affordable copy, completely scoring on this one. A good chunk of the money you’d made from your campus job went towards it, but it was more than worth it.
“No fucking way!” he shouts when he clocks the signatures scrawled out in marker. He flips the record around to show the room, everyone erupting in a chorus of “holy shit!” and “oh my god”.
He’s out of his seat in an instant, encouraging you to stand with him. He squeezes you in an impossibly tight hug, his arms so secure around you.
“I can’t fucking believe you,” he says, right against your ear. He pulls back a little, looking you right in the eyes. “Thank you so fucking much. What the hell,” he laughs, his teeth fully on display and the dimples coming out in his cheeks.
“Damn. She’s the best gift giver of us all. I think we might as well just call off Secret Santa for next year, no one’s topping that,” Steve says, getting a nod from Robin.
Eddie still hasn’t fully let you go, and it’s only when you become excruciatingly aware of all of the eyes on you that you pull away from his touch.
“Okay. So, Eddie, you’re next?” you say shakily, trying to gain your composure back. The boy stares at you just a second too long for you not to overthink it, before he’s nodding along.
“Yeah, alright,” he says, reaching for his gift.
The remainder of the gifts are exchanged rather quickly, but you really couldn’t tell anyone what they were if you’d had a gun to your head. All you could think about was the way Eddie hugged you. The look in his eyes when he opened both gifts. His eyes watching you intently from that moment on.
You want to buy him gifts like that all of the time, want to make him smile like that all of the time.
Chrissy and Steve cozy up on the loveseat, wrapped in each other as Christmas music plays softly. Jonathan and Argyle sit by the window, smoking from the new bowl the latter had been gifted by Robin. (That was the only gift you’d actually paid attention to as it was given, because Argyle literally cried). Eddie was relaxing in his chair, sipping another glass of spiked nog.
Robin and Nancy had pulled you into the kitchen as soon as they could, talking in whispers.
“Okay, so what was that? You got Eddie, like, the best gift ever.” Robin says, her eyes bulging at the end of the sentence.
“Yeah, I mean, that record had to have cost a fortune. And the custom picks!?” Nancy prods.
“Can I not just get my friend a nice gift?” you counter, your hand rubbing the back of your neck.
“Something’s up. I always know when something’s up,” Nancy says, her small mouth pursing in thought.
She’s right. She always knows. You don’t stand a chance lying to them — especially not both of them, together.
“Okay, fine! So maybe I have a little thing for Eddie…” you say. “But he definitely doesn’t like me like that! I just… wanted to get him something nice. It made me feel good,” you add, quick to defend yourself.
“I knew it!” Robin says, a little too loud, Nancy and you hurrying to shush her. “I knew it,” she says again, whispering this time.
“Just pleeaaase don’t tell him, okay? I don’t need this getting out—”
“Okay, babe, have you ever considered that he might like you too?” Robin interrupts, and Nancy nods.
“I— I don’t know! He doesn’t seem like the type to want a relationship, and… I don’t know!” you stumble, realizing you aren’t sure if you have a valid reason to confidently claim that he doesn’t like you.
The truth is, you just don’t know. And the unknown is terrifying.
“Why don’t you ask him out?” Nancy asks. “You know Eddie’s a sweetheart. I’m sure he’d love to go on a date with you,” she says, and you chew on your lip in indecision.
“I don’t know, you guys…” you mumble, nervously playing with your hair.
“Just, think about it?” Robin asks, just as the curly-headed man in question strolls leisurely into the kitchen.
“What are we thinking about?” he noses his way into the conversation, grabbing a few cookies off of a tray.
“Uh, nothing important,” you lie, giving him the most convincingly casual smile you can muster.
He bites into his cookie, leaning casually against the table. His dark eyes don’t leave you. Bringing an icing-covered finger to his mouth, he sucks the sugary substance off, making you flustered for the millionth time tonight.
Think about it, Robin said. You’re definitely thinking about it.
“Hey, um, could I talk to you alone, for a sec?” he asks you, bringing you back to earth.
“Oh! Y-yeah, sure,” you say, following him out of the kitchen. You chance a quick glance back at the girls, both of whom give you a thumbs up and an encouraging nod.
Eddie rounds the corner from the kitchen, standing in the entryway to the apartment. You’re just out of earshot of anyone else, and you’re nervous for what he’s about to say. You lean against the wall, his taller frame almost caging you in.
“Listen. I just want you to know how much I appreciate the gifts you got me. You didn’t have to do that,” he says sincerely. “No one’s ever gotten me a gift that nice before, besides for when Wayne got me my guitar,” he says, laughing lightly. “I just… thank you. I can’t thank you enough, actually.”
“I wanted to do it. You don’t even need to thank me. I’m just glad you like them, and you don’t think it’s too much,” you admit, glancing down at your feet.
“They’re perfect,” he says earnestly, getting you to look back up at him. “You’re… perfect," he breathes, saying it like it's a sigh of relief. Like it’s long overdue.
His eyes are so soft and sincere, his lips plump and pink as his tongue pokes out to wet them. His cheeks are tinged with the slightest bit of red, either from nerves or from the alcohol. You find yourself lost in him, your lips parting slightly as you both stand in silence.
Something above his head catches your attention, after a moment, and you look further up. You laugh in spite of yourself, making him look up, too.
Right above both of you, hanging from the arch in the ceiling, is mistletoe. The same mistletoe Eddie had been complaining about earlier. He starts laughing too, and then the both of you are stood there giggling like schoolchildren at the situation you find yourselves in.
When he’s regained composure, and your belly-laughs have subsided to a shy smile, you meet his eyes again. He steps ever-so-slightly closer to you, regarding you carefully down the bridge of his nose. There’s a playful look on his face, and one of his hands reaches out to gently rest on your waist.
“Since we’re here… should we..?” he starts, inching even closer.
“Yeah, we should,” you murmur, pushing up on your toes to meet him as he starts leaning down.
Your eyes flutter shut, your noses brushing together before your lips barely graze his. His warm breath fans your face, and then his lips are pressed fully on yours. You’re drinking him in, letting your mouths move softly together as you press your body against his. He smells like cinnamon and spice, tastes like the liquor from his drink, and you can’t get enough.
He’s pulling away too soon, reaching his hands up to cup your face. You never want him to let go, never want to go back to the reality you were living in before you’d kissed him, and the look on his face tells you he might be feeling the same.
“Wow,” Steve says from his spot on the couch, reminding both you and Eddie that you aren’t the only ones here.
“Awww you guys are so cute!” Chrissy coos, making you bite your lip in slight embarrassment.
Nancy and Robin high-five nonchalantly, before looking at you with huge smiles. Eddie’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into his side. You feel like a million bucks with him so close to you.
“You guys mind if we get out of here?” he says to the room. “I think we have a lot to catch up on,” he adds, glancing down at you with a wink.
You’d never been so happy to leave a party in your life. And maybe you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot of Steve’s complex before Eddie’s hands were all over you, but that’s your business.
1K notes · View notes
aestrayla · 4 months
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cherries or peaches? ft. obey me! brothers
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summary: do they prefer ass or boobs? ft. obey me! brothers x f!reader
cw: highly suggestive, mdni, fluff??, pet names (darling, sweetheart), fondling, groping, MY HUMOUR..
word count: 1.5k
a/n: sorry for some of them being so short, it was actually kind of challenging trying to elaborate on the ideas rather than just plainly stating them out as they are, but i hope u still enjoy them just as much as i enjoyed writing them ^^ also, don't mind my shitty humour in the last two + i haven’t written for most of these characters before so they might sound off idk??
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at first, it was hard to tell whether lucifer preferred ass or boobs.
he would always reply to you with a, "i prefer them both, equally," or a, "why should i choose when i can like them both?"
it drove you crazy because you clearly asked him to choose either one or the other. he was always dodging the question and at some point, you even got the brothers in on this, some bets were made too.
"it's obvious he likes ass more, have you seen the way he looks at y/n when they're wearing that skirt he bought for them?"
"nah he totally like boobs more, he can't keep his eyes off ‘em whenever they're wearin' a tight shirt!"
soon you started to take these signs into account, wearing much more revealing things to try and catch a reaction out of him, but to your demise, he never seemed to crack.
after weeks of bet-making and skin-revealing lucifer had finally had enough. the two of you were both lying in bed, facing one another while his arms were wrapped around your waist.
"y/n," he whispered.
"mhm?" you hummed in response.
"isn't it obvious i like these better?"
he pulled himself closer to you as his face buried against your chest. oh you thought. he had always found comfort sleeping against you like this, his head stuffed between your boobs while his arms wrapped around you tightly, that it became natural and you had almost forgot he did it.
"shit— you should've told me earlier! now we've all lost our bets to mammon!" you whined.
you could hear his muffled chuckles vibrate against your body as you wrapped your arms around his head, squeezing him closer.
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mammon is 100% an ass-loving guy, no questions asked.
with mammon, no matter what you're doing, what you're wearing, where you are, or who you're with, he just loves touching you all the damn time.
whether you're walking through the halls of RAD to your next class or taking a stroll through the devildom while window shopping, he won't hesitate to sneak his hands up your skirt to feel your plump ass.
"mammon stop, we're in public!" you glare as you swat his hands away.
"’m sorry can't help it, just gotta have my hands all over ya!"
oh well, maybe next time he’d be lucky enough to sneak his hands further down your skirt and— who knows, you might just find yourself begging him for more.
and if it's just the two of you in your own company, you'll always find that his hands like to slip past the waistband of your panties just to lay onto your cheeks, rubbing and squeezing at the plump flesh. always smiling in delight as you squirm under his carnal touch.
as much as you like to complain, he always swears that "it's just comfortable!" or "my hands were just cold!"
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there is no doubt in my mind that leviathan wouldn't be on team cherries.
he always lets you sit on his lap whenever he's grinding a video game or on an anime-watching marathon. a recent occurrence you've taken note of is that, almost as if it's a reflex, he'll always end up having a hand or two resting on your boobs, casually squeezing at it as if he owns the thing.
"you must be real comfortable there, levi." you teased, motioning to where his hand laid.
"huh— OH! um, I-I'M SORRY I DIDN'T MEAN TO!" he shot his hands up in defense. "it's just really soft… and warm... I'm sorry y/n." his face was bright red.
"it's fine, i was just teasing you, silly!"
there was also a time where you scolded levi for owning one of those mouse pads where ruri-chan’s the characters boobs would be squishy.
in desperate need to make it up to you, he custom ordered a version with you on it, only because he swears out of all his waifus, you're his absolute favourite.
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it was a rainy night, and in the comfort of the library beside a crackling fireplace, you were messing around on your d.d.d while satan was next to you, reading what you assumed to be a mystery book.
"hey satan?" you put your d.d.d down for a moment, turning to look at him.
"hm?" he hummed, while keeping his eyes glued to the page.
"do you prefer ass or boobs?"
he pauses to look up at you and closes his book, placing it beside him, all while sighing.
"what does it look like i prefer?" he deadpans.
you break his eye contact as you look down to see his left hand buried under your sweater, which was fondling with your boob this entire time.
"so... boobs?"
he replies while picking his book up again, "yes darling, don't ask such foolish questions."
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asmo loves boobs. your boobs to be specific.
don't blame him, your boobs are just so pretty and he loves pretty things.
the way they sit when you're wearing a low-cut garment, or the way they shine when you're having a bubble bath together. he loves it all.
as you know, asmo loves pampering you and surprises you with random gifts whenever he finds something that he'd love to see you in.
one night as he's doing your hair after a bath, he suddenly remembers something and stands to walk to his closet.
"the other day when i was shopping at majolish, i found this super pretty bra i thought you'd look just gorgeous in!" he approaches you with a box wrapped neatly with a ribbon.
as you open the box, you set your eyes on a beautiful red laced bra.
"are you sure i'd look good in this?"
"you look perfect in everything sweetheart, you know i’d never lie about that."
he's always buying you pretty things to wear, and trust me when i say, this definitely isn’t the first bra he's ever gotten you.
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beel could not care less about choosing between your ass or boobs. they're both squishy and feel nice in his hands so it didn't really matter to him. well, not until today.
getting up from the edge of the bed and turning your heel to face him, you asked, "did you know a new cafe opened up in the devildom recently?"
"really? what food do they sell there?" he asked, his eyes looked as if there were stars in them.
"well apparently their cakes are a specialty, they're pretty popular for it."
"cake?" he drooled, "i love cake! hey we should go to the cafe right now, i'm starving." he sat up from the edge of the bed, drooling like a puppy dog.
little did he know, you decided to be a little jokester today.
"oh you're starving right now? then here," you turn around, bending over.
"what are you doing y/n?"
you turn your head back to look at his confused expression, "you said you were starving right? the cake's right here," you pointed to your ass.
he stares at you for a moment. then at your ass. then back at you again.
"so there's no cafe, is there?" he wipes his drool away with the back of his hand.
"nope. but there sure is cake," you smile cheekily while shuffling closer.
he sighs while grabbing ahold of your thighs, dragging you just inches away from his lips, "you're lucky i like this kind of cake too."
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as long as he can sleep on them, belphie will like them no matter what. so when it comes to choosing between your ass or boobs, it can be a hard decision just to choose one.
belphie's "sleepability" criteria is: soft, warm and comfortable; and your boobs and ass were equal competition.
he sighs, "if i have to choose one over the other, i'd rather sleep on your ass all day" his reasoning being because your ass has more of an "even surface" compared to your boobs.
if you're ever just lounging around the house of lamentation, on your stomach specifically, within seconds you'll feel belphie's arms wrap around your legs while he lays his head onto you.
its crazy how instantly he falls asleep on you. he'd stay like that forever if you didn't have to get up to pee or because your legs fall numb.
"c'mon belphie, i needa pee so bad!" you squirm.
"mmmphh," he grumbles, half-asleep, while hugging onto your legs even tighter.
"hurry up or i'll fart on your face!" you threaten him jokingly.
"OKAY, OKAY!" he shoots up from his position and is scrambling to the edge of the bed. you laugh in response because it works every time.
"and i was having a good dream too!" he scowled, while rubbing his left eye from sleep.
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lmk if u guys want a part two ft. the datables!
©2023 aestrayla. do not modify, copy, translate or share.
2K notes · View notes
halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months
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ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..
how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)
ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol
have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Our Remains
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Pairing: John Price x F!Reader
Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.
Word Count: 4.8k
Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end
A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
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You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.
You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!
But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 
Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.
Just an overwhelming sense of dread.
The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 
You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 
The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 
In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 
John’s icon dims. 
You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 
He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.
“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.
God, you loved him so much.
Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 
He tried to call as often as he could. 
John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.
“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 
You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 
“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 
“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 
“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”
Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.
Jesus, this was actually happening. 
You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 
“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 
The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 
Above all, he knew when something was up with you.
“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”
Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”
The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 
The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.
Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 
Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 
John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 
“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 
…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 
“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”
The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 
“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”
He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 
There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 
John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 
“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”
“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 
Your voice quivers.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 
You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”
John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 
Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 
From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 
You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 
“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”
John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 
“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 
You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 
“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.
“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”
Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.
“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 
“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 
A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 
“I promise, John.”
“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”
Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 
The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 
He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 
The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 
Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.
John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.
All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 
It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 
“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 
Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 
John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.
The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.
“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 
Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 
The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 
He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 
Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 
But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.
“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 
His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 
John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 
Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 
He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.
“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 
You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 
“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”
Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 
But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 
Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…
“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 
Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 
You steel yourself and raise the box. 
“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 
He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 
Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 
“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 
You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 
“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 
What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….
Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 
John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 
Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 
“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 
It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 
Why isn’t he saying anything? 
John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 
Pregnant. 
His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 
Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 
“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 
John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 
“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”
Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 
“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 
He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 
You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.
“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”
“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 
Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”
His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.
You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.
“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 
The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 
“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 
While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 
A family that you both had made.
John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 
Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 
There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 
What remains behind, you ask? Simple.
White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.
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4K notes · View notes
chastiefoul · 6 months
Text
giving them flowers ft. genshin characters
featuring: wriothesley, neuvilette, scara, xiao, kaveh tags: fluff random notes: wriothesley is my new obsession
wriothesley
“wrio,” you sang out as you took the last step of the stair leading up to his office, finding him at his usual spot; buried in paperwork with a cup of tea loyal on his desk. upon the sight of you, his face lit up a little. “now the guards just let you right in hm? well it’s no wonder, you’re quite the charmer after all,” he said, his tone playful. you approached him, rolling your eyes. “please, the moment the news spread that i am ‘involved’ with the duke no one was brave enough to mess with me.” wrio chuckled, not denying the fact, as he also did not forget to remind the guards that you have the freedom to do whatever you wanted within the premises.
wrio just hummed in approval, as you went and sit on his lap. “i noticed the pretty things on your hand there, who’s it for?” he asked as he put a hand around your waist, the gesture tickled you a little. “for you.” you smiled. “for me to give sigewinne? i’m pretty sure i’ve told you where she usually is,” he raised an eyebrow, the clueless expression was as clear as day. “silly, it’s for you. this flower is yours.”
he stared at the bouquet of aster flowers on your hand, taking it carefully. somehow for a moment his gaze seemed a bit distant, like seeing through a passing memory. “how lovely,” he smiled to himself, your heart squeezed a little. “indeed they are,” you said softly.
“and you, too.” the lingering gaze landed on you, his piercing icy-blue eyes that’s usually sharp was somehow warm and gentle. he continued, “the loveliest.”
--
“i was worried when i saw you with that flowers that i might have one of those things you often read and told me in your books, ‘love rival’ is that it?”
you laughed. “really? you, worried?”
“hmm well, i did say i could fight.”
neuvilette
“neuvi?” you called to him as you peeked your head from behind his office door. “(y/n)? such a pleasant surprise, what brings you here?” he smiled softly, leaving his desk to approach you. “i had sometime before work and i wanted to give you this.”
you revealed a bouquet of bluebells from your back.
neuvi’s eyes widened slightly at the object.
“do you like it?” you asked hesitantly after seeing his lack of reaction. neuvilette snapped out of it, noticing the restlessness on your feature as he said, “i love it, i will cherish it.” relief washed over you as you did not detect the sign of him lying about it as he gazed the bouquet with such tenderness. “although, to what do i owe the pleasure of receiving such nice gesture?”
“nothing at all, i happened to see it on the way here and seeing the petals just reminded me of you a little.” you said, keeping the true meaning of the flowers to yourself. “oh? how so?” neuvilette asked, genuinely curious but also enthusiastic over what you said. you quietly chuckled to yourself. “what more do you want me to say? obviously the flowers are so beautiful, very much like yourself.” you smiled teasingly, a little wide for it to be genuine.
the subtlest pink painted his cheek bone at your unexpected response. “only you would compliment me with such words, (y/n),” he shook his head in wonderment, his little smile betrayed his attempt in acting aloof. “you mean the only one that’s bold enough to say it directly to your face, if you refuse to believe it i could go right now and gather enough people to march in here to chant that the iudex of fountaine is so very beau-“
he coughed in bashfulness, the color on his cheeks became more apparent. “love.. it is also only you who’s so fond of teasing me. please perish that ridiculous idea from your head,” he said, his tone feeble and pleadful, something you knew he did only in front of you. you laughed lovingly at his reaction, “i’m sorry, i just couldn’t help it. but you truly are beautiful, neuvilette.”
“dear please.. no need for further flattery, you already have me.” he let out a sigh, shaking his head at your shameless flirting. “it’s not flattery, it’s the truth.  i am allowed to compliment my lover whenever i wanted, no?” you smiled. neuvilette once again sigh in defeat. “i suppose that’s alright, so long you let me do the same towards you.”
scara
“what is this..?” he stared at the sunflowers on his hand. “okay so when someone waters a seed and fertilize them-“
he scoffed, “you know what i meant.”
“it’s a gift.” you answered curtly, as if the whole thing doesn’t need a further explanation, and it really didn’t it’s just a certain grumpy gremlin demanded it. “did you do something wrong?” he eyed you suspiciously and you’d hit this man if he wasn’t so endearing. “god why are you saying it like i’m a bad person or something, you know what? i’m taking it back.” you said as you made no attempt of reaching out yet he shielded the flowers with his arms anyway.
“i never said i didn’t want it. also it’s mine now, have you no shame taking back what you’ve given?” he narrowed his eyes at you, and returned his attention to the object at hand.
“a ‘thank you’ still works just fine, you know?” you said, having a hard time holding back a grin by his hard attempt not to show that he liked the gift. his gaze rested on the flower for another minute, as if reminiscing something. “i just... no one really ever...” he said with a voice barely above a whisper; a moment of weakness where he sounded vulnerable.
“i’ll just have to give you many more of it then,” you smiled at him, for a second you swore he looked excited. “you don’t have to, i have no use of this.” he said, sounding like he didn’t mean a single word he said. you raised an eyebrow at him.
“although.. ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ.”
xiao
“i didn’t bring your almond tofu today, but instead i wanted to give you this,” you said, handing him the iris flowers. “flowers..?” he tilted his head, wanting you to elaborate as to why you gave him that. what’s the occasion? where did you get them? why are you giving them to him?
“i just thought you’d like it, do you?” you smiled unsurely. “i.. don’t mind it however, such vibrant and lively things, it fits you more,” he said nonchalantly, as if what he just said didn’t make your heart do a backflip. “you’re looking at it the wrong way. even after surviving storms and rains, flowers stood tall proudly through it all—and that’s why i think it resembles you way more,” you said confidently.
xiao was quiet at your words, before letting out a rare soft smile. “if you feel that way so strongly, i have no choice but to believe it, then.”
kaveh
“for me!?” he asked excitedly at the bouquet of tulips. you nodded just as excited. “oh i love this so much, it would go so well on my desk after i put them on a vase,” he said, his eyes glistened with joy. “if i knew you’re going to be this excited i would’ve gotten them sooner.”
“no harm done my love, i am just beyond happy you thought of me.” he smiled, giving you a kiss on your cheek. “now, won’t you help me pick a container to put these flowers in?” he said, already taking your hand and leading you to his collection of things. “you say that but everytime we do this it’s always you picking different stuff up while you demand for my words of affirmation,”  you said, holding back a smile. “and?” kaveh raised an eyebrow, “and i love it, of course.” you laughed.
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bloodlust-1 · 3 months
Note
Hi. So I loved the story you made about Tav revealing she's a virgin to Astarion. You said we could send prompts so when you're back I would love a story about Tav's first time with Astarion under the stars 🌟🥰.
Love your stories
Thank you 🙏🏾
Okay - Fine! I'll totally give ya a part 2 ;* ! A few people actually requested this so it's about time ;p Since this is a virgin Tav, I wanted to be extremely delicate and detailed with Astarion's actions, while also still being sexy. This is some slowburned passionate smut!!
Lets get into iitttt. Hope you enjoy reading anon!
˚ ° A purity like yours ° ˚ part 2
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Lovely photo by @astarionposting
Astarion x fem Tav — Explicit 18+
T/W: Smut!, virginity
Summary: Astarion fulfills his promise to make Tav's first time a beautiful and memorable experience, something he believes she deserves. When he surprises her, things get heated and her first time becomes a memory that'll forever burn into her head.
Notes: This is a part 2 to this story. You don't have to read part 1 to enjoy or understand the storyline, but it just hits different for the ones who did :* <3
The air was filled with the sweet scent of wildflowers and the sound of crickets chirping. Astarion had been planning this surprise for weeks and now it was finally time to show Tav. He took her hand and led her through the dark forest, carefully avoiding any fallen branches or rocks.
Tav held onto his hand tightly, and the anticipation was welling up inside her. What was it? She had no idea where Astarion was taking her, but she trusted him completely.
Finally, they reached a clearing in the forest and Astarion stopped, turning to face Tav with a soft smile on his face. "Close your eyes," he whispered, "I have a surprise for you."
Tav did as she was told, her heart racing with excitement. She felt Astarion take her hand once again and lead her a few steps forward before coming to a stop.
Tav felt the warmth of his palms on her shoulders. Then, the pressure of his lips pressing against her neck, "Okay, open your eyes."
Tav slowly opened her eyes and gasped in awe at the sight before her. They were standing in a beautiful pasture, surrounded by tall grass and wildflowers. But what took her breath away was the night sky above them. It was filled with countless stars, twinkling in the darkness.
"Astarion..." Tav spoke under her breath, her eyes wide with wonder. "I had no idea..."
And somehow, the moonlight captured Astarion so perfectly under its shine. A small wind blew softly threw his white curls.
Astarion chuckled at her reaction and helped her lie down on the soft grass. "I knew you would love it," he said, lying down beside her.
Tav couldn't take her eyes off the stars, they seemed to go on forever. "I never knew the night sky could be so beautiful," she whispered.
Astarion turned to look at her, his eyes shining with adoration. "Just like you," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "Your beauty is just as infinite as the stars above us." He shyly averted his eyes back onto the sky.
Tav's eyes welled up with tears and she turned to look at Astarion with a scrunched smile. "Thank you for showing me this,"
Astarion wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "I am just glad you like it, my dear," he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
Tav couldn't contain herself, wrapping her arms tightly around Astarion and bombarding his face with kisses. "You're the best," she said between giggles.
"And beautiful!" He exclaimed at her sarcastically, or did he really mean it?
Tav rolled her eyes and shook her head with a light heart.
They lay there for what felt like hours, just enjoying each other's company in comfortable silence. Tav could feel Astarion's steady breath against her cheek, and it calmed her nerves.
Without warning, Astarion's hand slipped down to rest on Tav's hip. She stiffened slightly, not expecting the sudden touch. But before she could react, Astarion's hand moved lower, cupping her ass.
Tav's eyes widened in surprise, and before she could speak, Astarion let out a nervous apology under his breath. Tav could see the panic in his eyes, afraid he had crossed a line.
"No -" She felt herself get flustered, but Tav mustered up the courage to reach for Astarion's face, cupping his cheekbone.
"I-I actually...like it," Tav stammered, her eyelashes battered at him shyly.
Astarion's eyebrows raised in shock before a cocky smirk spread across his lips. "Oh, is that so?" he teased, his voice low and playful.
Tav nodded.
Astarion's fingers trailed up the back of her thighs, tickling her skin. Tav squirmed under his touch, feeling a sudden heat between her thighs.
Her breath hitched as Astarion groped her ass, his touch was surprisingly gentle and soft. Tav felt his breath become heavy and he leaned closer to her, his lips hovering just inches from hers.
"You're such a tease," she playfully scolded him, her voice laced with desire.
Astarion just chuckled, his fingers still teasingly caressing her skin. "But you like it," he whispered, his lips now grazing her ear.
Damn, he's right.
Tav liked the way he made her feel, and the way he touched her. With a sudden burst of confidence, she pulled him in for a passionate kiss, gently climbing on top of his body fully.
Astarion's hands gripped Tav's hips, softly tugging them against his groin. He huffed into the kiss, grinding her hips against him with each needy thrust.
Tav's hands slid up Astarion's chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. She moaned softly while he continued to grind against her, the lace of his shirt now completely undone and hanging loosely around his neck.
Astarion growled low in his throat, his lips moving from hers to trail kisses down her neck. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "If this is what you really want, my love - I can't wait to feel you."
Tav shivered at his words, her body aching with desire. "I want you," she replied, her hands running through his hair as she tugged him closer.
Astarion's hands traveled down her body, his fingers tracing the curves of her waist before sliding under her shirt. He lifted it over her head, revealing her bare skin to him. He helped her kick off her pants as well.
Astarion lifted her by the waist, pushing her to sit straight up on his lap as he laid, "I want to see you from this angle."
Tav looked down on him in her undergarments. This was the most naked she had ever been in front of him, and it made her shudder with anxiousness.
His eyes sparkled, trailing down from her collarbones, breasts, stomach, full thighs, and then the soft cloth of her panties. She was a work of art, a muse.
His hand snaked up her side, with a swift motion he unclipped her bra with one hand; allowing it to sink off her shoulders.
Tav turned her head timidly, hiding her face in as much of her hair as possible.
As her bra fell, her breasts were exposed to the cool air of the night, and Astarion was practically drooling.
"Pretty." Astarion hummed in approval. He reached out for her breast, cupping the soft skin into his palm.
Tav's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had never been touched like this before and she didn't know how to react. Astarion's hand continued to roam over her chest, his touch gentle and curious.
"Relax, my dear," he whispered, he took her nipple between his fingers. "I will be gentle."
He sat up, one breast in his palm, and his other hand wrapped around her waist.
Astarion's lips trailed down Tav's neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses. He gave her breast a gentle squeeze. Tav gasped at the sensation, her body responding to his touch despite her nerves.
He pulled her closer, his lips now on hers, and Tav melted into his embrace. Astarion's other hand joined in, caressing her other breast, and Tav couldn't hold back a loud moan.
"There it is. how does it feel?" His breath tickled her lips.
"More - please.." Tav shamelessly lowered her head, allowing her whimpers to flow out softly.
Astarion kissed her deeply, and her worries and doubts faded away. Tav gave in to the pleasure, letting Astarion take the lead and guide her through this new experience.
she was grateful to have him as her first. He was gentle and nurturing to her needs and wants.
Astarion continued to explore Tav’s body, hands hungrily stroking every curve, scar, and stretch mark he could dip his fingers on.
Studying her every move, expression, and whimper, Astarion pinned every spot that made her jaw drop and face burn red. He specifically loved the way her lower lip fell when she moaned.
He felt one thing that he had never felt before: In control. And all he wanted to do with it was please Tav.
He continued to kiss her, lacing his tongue with hers. The excitement started to whelm deep into his stomach and as a result, poking Tav’s inner thighs with a full erection.
Astarion became desperate, sloppily kissing her while their tongues twirled together. Their hold got tighten around each other and Astarion pulled away with a sharp breath for air.
“I wonder how you taste." His lips pulled into a smug look and it burned Tav's heart. He was so shameless and knew exactly what he wanted. Why wouldn't be honest with his love?
He pushed Tav's back onto the grass, hovering over her naked body.
Tav's heart raced, and Astarion looked down at her with dominating eyes. She couldn't believe she was here, at this moment, ready to give her virginity.
As he pulled his shirt off, Tav blatantly stared at his abs. But when he removed his pants, his erection building right up, Tav had a wave of nerves wash over her.
Astarion noticed the panic in her eyes and immediately stopped. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, his hand caressing her cheek.
"It's okay, my dear," he whispered, "I'll take care of you."
Tav's heart swelled at his words. She nodded, giving him a small smile. He would take care of her, surely.
His lips trailed down Tav's collarbones, making their way to her breasts. Tav's breath hitched, he took one of her nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it and sending shivers down her spine.
He then moved down her stomach, his lips leaving a trail of kisses and his hands caressing every inch of her skin. When he reached her thighs, Astarion couldn't resist the temptation any longer.
With a devilish glint in his eye, he spread her legs wide and took a deep breath, "Delicious," he murmured, before teasing her inner thighs with his kisses.
Tav squirmed under his touch, her skin tingling from the grazing of his fangs against her thighs. A soft moan escaped her lips, and a trail of hickeys littered her skin.
But it was nothing compared to the sensation when Astarion finally placed a single kiss on her core. Tav's back arched for more, her fingers gripping the blades of grass. A soft gasp left her lips.
"I think we should take this slow, my dear," Astarion whispered against her sex, "After all, it's your first time."
Again, his lips were on her folds, kissing them until his tongue dragged across her wetness. The slick of her core had a sweet tinge that only made him desperate for more.
The tip of his tongue fell onto Tav's clit. It burned in heat compared to his tongue and he slowly traced in all kinds of shapes. His red eyes glared up at Tav, studying which designs made her moan more, whimper, arch her back, and push her hips closer against his mouth.
And when he did find her spot, Tav's became a breathy mess. Cries and whimpers flowed out her mouth like lyrics to her favorite song. Her ankles quivered to each long stroke of Astarion's tongue.
Her stomach knotted deep within her and Tav hastily grabbed a handful of his curls.
"A-aahhh, Don't..S-Stop." She gritted her teeth and her face scrunched in an intense plea to his tongue.
His name cried off her lips.
With a devilish glint in his eyes, Astarion flicked his tongue and teased her most sensitive spot. Tav's moans grew louder and heavier.
It was like he became almost feral. He pushed his face closer to her core, his tongue working even more intensely against her clit. Tav felt a knot forming in her stomach. Tav's body tensed up as she neared her climax.
With one final flick of his tongue, Astarion brought Tav to her peak, her body released itself, and Tav let out a breathy cry. Astarion looked up at her, nodding in approval as he took in her flushed cheeks and ragged breaths.
Tav was left breathless and Astarion quickly covered her mouth with his, their tongues tangled needingly like a drug. Their tongues and teeth clashed together roughly. Their bodies practically hummed with a desire for more.
Finally, they pulled away, their chests rising and falling, both trying to catch their breath. "Wow..I...never felt that - before," Tav huffed, her eyes fell hazy.
Astarion gazed at Tav with a mischievous smirk on his face. "I could say the same, my love," he replied, before pulling her in for another heated kiss.
Tav moaned between the kiss, "I want to make you feel good too."
"Open your mouth," Astarion commanded as he fit himself perfectly between her legs.
Tav obeyed, and his slender fingers slipped into her mouth. She sucked on them eagerly, wetting them with her tongue. His eyes coldly pushed them deeper into her throat until she gagged.
"You're such a good pup," Astarion praised, his voice husky with desire. He used her saliva to lubricate his cock before placing it at the entrance of her core.
"Are you ready?" His red eyes pierced Tav's, and with teary eyes, she nodded yes.
With a slow and steady pace, Astarion pushed his hips forward, sliding himself into her. Tav clutched onto his arms and winced at the sharp pain, but Astarion's face faded somber at the sound of her cries.
"Shhh...There, there. Try to relax," he comforted her, giving her a moment to adjust to his length. Tav pulled him closer into a hug, tightly shutting her eyes into his nape.
Astarion gently rubbed the back of her head with his hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her skin. Tears welled up in Tav's eyes, but she spoke to Astarion through the pain.
"I can feel you," Tav hummed in a soft voice, admiration.
His heart skipped a beat at her words. They were finally one, and it made him fall in love with her all over again.
Astarion rarely became nervous, but Tav's words shook him, "A-Alright, I'm going to go slow, my love..."
With each thrust of his hips, Astarion could feel Tav's grip tighten around him, and he let out a low grunt of pleasure against her neck. Tav's body responded eagerly to his, and soon they were moving in perfect rhythm together.
Tav's nails dug into Astarion's shoulder blades, dragging lines down his back until it rested on his hips. Tav forced his hips down with her palms closer to her groin.
Their bodies were slick with sweat as they moved against each other, and Tav's moans mingled with Astarion's grunts. At that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of them, lost in their lust.
Astarion grabbed Tav's thigh, forcibly pulling her leg up tighter into his cock. He pumped skillfully into her sex, closing his eyes as his body greedily melted to the sensation.
Fuck, Astarion's mind went blank. Sex was never for pleasure. Not in his world, but in this moment; there was something special about the way his spine shivered and his skin crawled.
Without a word, Astarion took hold of Tav's wrists and pinned them above her head, glaring down at her with carnal lust. Only a gasp left her lips.
"I'm going to take everything I want from you, my love, greedily and passionately."
Wasting no time, his hips rocked against Tav's, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces.
Tav mewled a loud moan, the roughness of Astarion's thrusts almost bordering on pain. But it was a good kind of pain, one that sent shivers down her spine and made her toes curl.
"Astarion!" she cried out, her voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. "Fuck...n-nghh!"
Astarion's own moans mixed with hers, his breath hot against her skin as he continued to drive into her with each thrust. Tav's walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper and deeper inside her.
Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, each moan and gasp pushed them closer and closer to the edge. Tav's mind clouded with nothing but the feeling of Astarion's cock inside her.
"Harder, Astarion," she begged, her voice rasped raw with need.
And he obliged, his movements becoming rougher and more urgent and they both approached their climax. Tav's moans turned into cries of ecstasy while her body trembled beneath Astarion's hold.
With one final thrust, Astarion let out a loud moan. His length twitched three times, filling Tav before collapsed on top of her. Their bodies were still entwined.
When he pulled out, a small sheen of blood covered his tip.
Astarion captured Tav's lips, and his eyes fluttered hazily. He then pulled Tav into a hug and they lay in each other's arms, panting and catching their breath. They may have started as strangers, but in that moment, they were truly one and it was a feeling that he never wanted to let go of.
"You're amazing," Astarion kissed Tav's forehead, "How do you feel?"
"I feel ruined - but in the best way possible." Her mouth hung open, still catching her breath.
Astarion clicked his tongue against his teeth, "Darling, you will be feeling deliciously sore in all the right places tomorrow."
"You really think so?" Tav's glossy eyes widened with a flush of red burning her cheeks.
Astarion was so right. The lingering ache would serve as a sweet memory of their passionate and unforgettable night together.
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